Indian Summer Boat Blog

Last Friday, I took the day off to go sailing with Sideshow and Chris V and to try to recover from the disaster that is my job (the board of directors in their infinite wisdom fired our site director and several others Monday morning, throwing the rest of us into quite the tizzy - now we don’t meet in the halls to discuss data but rather resume writing tips).

I got up early so that I could go to the Chinese consulate and get my passport turned in for a visa, this went very quickly, so I got to the Indian Summer early enough to make some repairs before my crew showed up.  I tightened up part of the tiller with some bronze bushings and an appropriate show of force, tightened up the fore stay and got asked out by a gentleman surprised to see a "sailor girl."  The conversation went something like this "Whoa!  You don’t see many sailor girls around.  Do you have a husband or boyfriend?  No?  Well, do you want my phone number?"  I said I probably wouldn’t call him but he was welcome to stop by if he saw me at the boat    {{Janel - don’t look at me like that, I know I was way politer than you would have been}}

My crew showed up and we got set to go.  Chris is a very well-trained sailor, his provisions included wine, sushi and a sub.  He was invited back before we left the dock.  Which was a good thing as we didn’t get to sail.

The wind was so fierce that when we got out of the harbor I had trouble turning up into it to raise the sails.  According to the radio it was gusting up to 37 knots.  At that point, I said that if we could get the boat back into the harbor, we were going back in.  It took a while, but we made it safely.  There was one near miss where some gusts almost pushed us into the harbor wall, but luckily Sideshow is good in a crisis and fended off.  I think he would have been game to stay out and sail, but that’s why I’m captain.

Docking was remarkably smooth (again, no one saw!).  So we sat in the boat the rest of the day and drank the case of beer Sideshow brought and the wine Chris provided.

I’ve been second guessing myself about it, whether it was wimpy to turn around, whether I should have left the dock in the first place, etc. etc. but in the end, I think I did the right thing.  The reports from the radio were mixed, Sideshow (very experienced) seemed to feel it was okay to go, there were a couple of other boats out (although they were much bigger), so I think making the attempt was justified, but I’m very glad I turned back when I did.  I now know that those winds are beyond my capabilities and at the edge of my boats capabilities.  In winds like that, I think the safest thing a sailor can do is return to harbor if possible.  So that’s what we did.

Received this email from Sideshow Ian.  This blog will now be not only about my boat, but also to collect blackmail on him (not that its a useful commodity).  But anyway, its things like this that make Sailing with Sideshow fun:

With 16 thousand dollars, 4 women and a hundred camels you could have a hell of a party!

And that is all he wrote.  Hmm.

One of my coworkers, Chris V., is currently at what I like to think of and he assures me is not "sleep away camp for big boys."  It is the OCSC sailing school.  He is sending daily updates and has given me permission to add them here.  I think they are highly educational.

Carroll,

Maybe I should start my own sailing blog…

Day 1, "Basic Keelboat Week" on a J24 in 20-knot winds with 25-knot gusts in "The Slot": First Impressions.

1. Toto, I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore.
2. Sailing is like sex, but is slightly more expensive.     2b) but… I don’t think i could take a 36-footer. Now is NOT the time to be a size queen.
3. I can’t believe how much work it is to operate sucha tiny boat — especially one that has neither a wet bar nor a powder room!
4. Give me roller furling, autohelm, and self-tailingwinches, or give me death.
5. "Muffy, do pour me another G & T…", NOT! Sailing on the bay is not relaxing. My license plate holder will read: "I’d rather be Moored".
6. Sunscreen is more than just a substance that muscular frat-boys should slather on each other at public volleyball games; I now have lobster-boat face.

-Chris

Day 1  Dispatch 2

I forgot to tell you! After comming into the harbor, our outboard FRIED as we brought down the rigging. We got to do an "emergency docking" at Hornblower Yachts until a towboat came. So, tell me, does this happen every time?    (Not every time, just usually)

Can’t believe I’ll be doing four more days of this — on my "vacation".

Day 2 Dispatch

Winds, not so many knots as yesterday, but was totally an E-ticket, and OCSC "Keelboat Week" is definitely sailing Boot Camp. Although this is way more involved than I had expected, taking this course is the absolutely correct choice for me to have made. I predict that the impact on my life will reach far beyond the realm of sailing, but at the moment, I’m too sore, bruised, sunburned, invigorated, and exhausted to expound further. Nevertheless, i joined the OCSC cult today by becoming a member.

So, boys and girls, let x = the set of [sex + roller coasters + acid trips + confidence building].

Therefore, we can express the following life relationship:

x + (Elan, a Very Large Negative integer) > 0.

Hence, one now finds that one’s life is currently a Positive experience.

Carroll, feel free to add my emails to your blog.

No, this is not "sleepaway camp for big boys". As it turns out, we can only "sleep on the boats (you) are sailing on", and no, I’m not sleeping on a J24 with my head slamming against the PortaPotty as I have not "slept" with my head slammed against a toilet since my 30’s.

Yes, you are the Godess of Sailing reason: OPB’s, small, cheap, crewing = good.

Cheers,

-Your future crew

Now, I really hope some of his instructors and/or classmates had the sense to bring along a camera to catch the looks of sheer terror on his face on Day 1.

We now return you to your regularly scheduled programming.

Why is it that when I screw up a docking, there are about 37 of my neighbors and/or the harbor patrol around to watch, but the majority of the time, when I execute a perfect (or at least perfectly acceptable) docking, the only witnesses are my crew?

WHYWHYWHYWHYWHY?!?!?!?!?

The vast majority of the time, I have no problem.  Once, I came in too fast and bumped a dock box (not a major problem).  Once, the motor came loose and twisted at the vital moment so I couldn’t steer it, however, I was able to formulate a plan B and get the boat to a safe spot and start over.  No, I didn’t hit Crazy Canoe Lady’s Boat, no matter what she yelled.  Frankly, I don’t think someone who looks that much like the Simpsons Cat Woman is a reliable witness.  Then last week, Yes, I simply missed the dock when there was a hard gust of wind and I lost control of the boat in reverse.  But, once again, I got the boat safely into another slip.  So then the Harbor Patrol Guy (who’s really cute by-the-by) came aboard and showed me how to deal with reverse.

However, that’s it!  Personally, I only consider the last one, when I actually missed the dock, to be that bad.  I mean, when the engine came loose?  I was pretty damn impressed with myself for getting boat safely elsewhere.  And as for hitting the dock box, well, I’ve seen pictures of a lot worse than that.   http://cbs5.com/video/?id=5145@kpix.dayport.com

So, that’s one docking that I actually feel embarrassed about out of all of them.  Yet, that one docking event is the one that at least 6 of my neighbors observed  and talked to me about later!  One of them (Cheech) put it in great perspective for me

"Embarrassment only lasts till the next guy does something even stupider."

Wisdom from someone that perpetually stoned is wisdom indeed.

This past Saturday I sailed with the very inexperienced crew of Rebecca, Janet and Janet’s son Gabe.  Prior to sailing, Rebecca had emailed me that Gabe was the best kid on the planet, and I think she just may be right.  He is now the Official Indian Summer Cabin Boy, replacing all others.

It was a great day for learning, as it started out with no wind, then steadily increased to gale force 20-25 knots.  Ah, summer in San Francisco!  We flew over the water, heeled the boat over to 30 degrees, my crew caught on to the art of sail trim quite well and we even saw a sea lion inside Oyster Point Marina - I didn’t think they came that far south in the bay.  Janet is a natural at stepping off the boat during docking and Rebecca taught me a new and much better way of folding the jib (which is amazing since I believe she’s never been on a sailboat before).  The fear in Rebecca’s face when I asked her to take the tiller while Janet and I raised sails was priceless.  Now I know the best way to strike fear into a ninja.

At the end of the day, we brought the sails down, motored into and harbor and I brought the Indian Summer into her berth perfectly and without a soul watching.

Failing to plan is planning to fail.       - J. Medeiros

Last week, my coworker Chris stopped by and asked me how one goes about buying a boat.  This struck me as a very interesting question, one that I had myself quite recently and yet had found no guide to.  Hence, I will now attempt (nay!  I will succeed!) in penning "The Complete Ostrich’s Guide to Buying a Boat."

Step 1:  Find some money.  I recommend having a winning lottery ticket, but inheriting money or finding out that you’ve been included in a class-action lawsuit also works. If all else fails, save $20 per week for a long time, time dependent on value of boat you will purchase.  Use the following calculation to determine how long it will take:       

# weeks = {(~ boat price$ x 110%)  + [(#weeks/4) x (monthly copay for tranquilizers)]} / $20

             this may need to be translated into a calculus equation

      Hide your head in the sand in fear.

Step 2:  Learn to sail.  I cannot overemphasize the importance of this.  Sailing consists of more than sitting on a boat going "Oh yar, isn’t the watah pretty today.  Chip, dahling, fetch me anothah G&T."  If you don’t already know what a jib is, what a sheet is, how to tack and jib (as different from ‘a jib’) and fix things that go wrong, then stay here on step 2 until you do.

Rule number first:  Its way less stressful to learn how to bash someone else’s $10,000 into a dock than it is to learn how to bash your own $10,000 into a dock.

Step 3:  Decide what boat you want.

Step 4:  Decide what boat you can realistically sail.  Answer the following questions yes or no.         

• Do I live in an enlightened country where I get 8 weeks of vacation a year and can go cruising to Mexico every winter?
• Do I have an unlimited bank account?
• Do I have 4 children between the ages of 12 and 16 which I am planning on homeschooling for the next 5 years?
• Do I live for near-death experiences?

If the answer to these questions is yes, you should be looking for a 36 foot plus, ocean going boat.  If the answer is no, think smaller.  Much smaller.  I recommend something in the 22 to 28 foot range, fiberglass.  If you like racing, think J24.  If you don’t, think most anything else that’s cheap, has a sound hull and rigging, has a galley and a portapotty (called a head***).  This is a really good time in which to sail in other people’s boats - see what you think is important.  Do you really really really have to have a figurehead on yours?  Is a spinnaker a must have?  Is a catamaran the only boat for you?

Step 5:  Monitor Craigslist and Latitude38 for at least 3 months.  This is important.  You’ll learn a lot just by seeing what boats get snapped up and what boats languish for (literally) years.  DO NOT (REPEAT) DO NOT MAKE AN OFFER ON THE FIRST PRETTY BOAT YOU SEE. 

Step 6:  Look at boats.  What are you looking for?  Soft hulls, signs of obvious damage, rusty or otherwise decrepit metal parts, rotten brightwork, unsafe wiring (see Noah’s Revenge), worn-out sails, general malaise, an icky feeling in the pit of your stomach.

   Hide your head in the sand in fear of making the wrong decision.

Step 7:  Find and make an offer on one particular one, getting a survey if you can, although you know what, if the boat is only $5000, and the survey is going to cost $1500, you might want to consider it your gambling for the year and just trust that you’ve learned enough about boats in step 2.   Rule the second: bid way low, come up slow.  They want to sell the boat way more than you want to buy it.

         Hide your head in the sand in fear.  ARE YOU INSANE!?! YOU’RE BUYING A BOAT?!?!

Now come the hard parts.

Step 8:  Find a marina with slips available at short notice in your boat size.  The nicer they are on the phone, the easier they’ll be to deal with.   Ask what they require for insurance, registration, fees, and be really nice to them.  They may need to be listed on the insurance policy. 

Step 9:  Hand over a cashier’s check while trying not to hyperventilate.

Step 9:  The seller should have brought the title and current registration.  Make sure the seller signs on ALL the appropriate lines of the title. 

Step 10:  Call Progressive and get insurance.  Way easier than any other insurance company.  If your boat is cheap, just get the required liability.  Plus boat tow insurance!!!

Step 11:  Wait in line at the DMV for 3 hours.   I recommend you bring a book.  You will also need (1) Title   (2) Registration   (3)  Insurance Info      (4)  Name of marina it is/will be at    (5) That extra money you saved for the purchase because you’ll have to pay taxes which amount to about 10% of the boat price plus registration fee which isn’t too much.

Step 12:  Call former owner.   "Hi, yeah, you were listed on the title not only as the owner but as the lien holder so the DMV wants you to sign there also………Um hum, yeah, I know you can’t be both the owner and the lien holder but the DMV won’t let me register the boat until you sign the lien line as well……………yeah, I’m sure you’re really busy, but I’d really appreciate it………….no, I don’t feel comfortable forging your signature on a government document…………yeah, I see that your signature is really simple, but………..LOOK!  THEY’RE THE DMV!   You can’t argue with them, all they say is NEXT!…………OK, fine tomorrow at 2:30."

Step 13:  Drive to San Jose for twink’s signature.  Return to DMV for final stamp on paperwork.

Step 14:  Wait 3 weeks for title and registration to arrive in mail.

          Hide your head in the sand in fear that it will get lost in the mail.

I’d recommend skipping step 13.

Step 15 (Optional):  Move boat to new marina.  Because the old one sucks clearly.  Plus, you don’t want the old owner to be able to find the boat and see what you’ve done to it.

Step the last:  Don’t listen to your friends advice.  The first pretty boat you see is going to drive it out of your head anyway.   So just stick your head in the sand and ignore it all.

*** Note: In BoatGirl’s beloved Indian Summer, the head has been renamed by Jeff and Caroline.  It is called something different, which I won’t put here for fear of causing offense, but I can be bribed into telling you.

For the past few days, I (like the rest of the world) have been looking at pictures of the damage caused by Hurricane Katrina.  And I’ve found myself saying, Oh that’s too bad, must suck to be them, well why the hell did they build a city below sea level?  It’s all the Republicans’ fault for taking money away from FEMA and levee-upkeep to fund the war, etc. etc.

And I look at photos like Example A which appeared in Yahoo News and go Hmm.  Sucks.  Oh well, better get back to work.

Example A   

Then I get photos like Example B, and burst into tears.