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CAT PPALU: Holed in St. Maarten

Sail Feed - Mon, 2014-03-10 13:11

Major bummer here. D. Randy West, the well known West Indies multihull maven, is struggling to salvage his new ride, the Peter Spronk-designed Cat Ppalu (see photo above), which he bought and renovated last year after a 20-year quest.

Major coincidence here, too, as Randy was in St. Maarten racing on the Gunboat 62 Tribe at the Heineken Regatta with, among others, Tribe‘s creator and original owner, Peter Johnstone, who has been resolutely ignoring some e-mails I sent him last week asking questions about the new Gunboat 60. I had just figured out where Peter was, and why he wasn’t answering e-mail, when I got word from Paul Gelder, ex-editor of Yachting Monthly in the UK, that Ppalu was in trouble.

I gather from the blurb on that YouTube video that Ppalu somehow dragged on to a reef and was holed while Randy was out racing.

Old partners in crime. Peter Johnstone (left) and D. Randy (right) on Tribe this past weekend

Tribe under sail last week. She was the Gunboat that started it all

Ppalu, when first launched in 1978 (Randy was actually on hand to help carry her into the water!) was purportedly, at 75 feet, the world’s largest catamaran at the time. Like many of Spronk’s boats, she was designed for the Caribbean charter trade, but was also unusually fast.

Magazine charter ad for Ppalu circa 1980

Ppalu about the time Randy bought her last year

Randy at work renovating her on St. Kitts

As mentioned up top, D. Randy has waited a long, long time to lay hands on this boat. I’m sure he’ll move heaven and earth to get her floating again.

Changing Dreams in Midstream: Part II

Sail Feed - Mon, 2014-03-10 11:25

By Kimball Livingston   Posted March 10, 2014

In Part I, we explored the story of young men, fresh out of the Navy at the close of hostilities in 1946, pooling their WWII discharge pay to buy and rebuild a 35-foot schooner. The mission: Embark upon a voyage from Nova Scotia to California. We had some fun with the fact that, like Dave Honey, I formed a “relationship” with, but never got published in, Yachting Magazine. If you haven’t read Part 1, consider it. That’s a much better place to begin.

We open now on the east coast of Florida, where our heroes undertook the delivery to California of a finely-built, 79-foot schooner named Kelpie, pictured above. The schooner’s owner was detained at home by the demands of business, and that was exactly the sort of exigency that Dick Honey, Dave Honey and their companions were avoiding by taking control of their moment, by voyaging now, footloose and free. Free of war, first of all, and now even freer with their own rather demanding boat sold. Sold for enough to cover expenses to date, and with Kelpie’s owner covering expenses to come.

They had imagined going on in their own boat, and only through a mighty effort had they come this far. Now they chose to adjust, changing dreams in midstream.

On June 15, 1947. Kelpie cleared Miami, bound for a first stop in Nassau. Of his first encounter with the gleaming brightness of the Gulf Stream, Dave wrote, “The water changed to an indescribably beautiful shade of blue—a cross between robin’s egg and turquoise.” And there, right there, is another thing Dave and I have in common. My first experience of the Stream was a Miami-Nassau Race, and I looked at the water and wondered who turned the lights on down there.

Dick saddles up to explore Haiti

In Nassau town, Dave observed locals balancing on their heads “everything from sewing machines to trays of nervous, clucking chickens.”

In a different generation, I missed that.

Until jet travel, the islands of the Caribbean were a world or worlds apart, remote and exotic.

Kelpie’s crew would stop at only a few of those islands, but then would take their time about exploring. “We had no schedule,” Dave wrote, “We decided to stop when, where and for how long our fancies dictated—and a schedule would have been next to impossible to keep.” Our much-later survey will move fast-forward, so I will tell you that in the Caymans the boys took aboard an additional hand (who became a story later), and in Haiti they found a languid, idyllic air lost to later generations.

In Le Mole St. Nicolas, Haiti, they traded “empty bottles, tin cans, old clothes and bits of wire for oranges, limes, mangoes, avocados and a stalk of bananas, as well as the use of horses to explore the hinterland.” Horses that might look pint-sized to some eyes. There followed in Port au Prince adventures that Dave glossed over as “interesting voodoo ceremonies.”

Under way again, Kelpie took a licking in the Windward Passage and emerged with ripped sails and a leak. I’m pretty sure that in 2014 there would be no welcome for a random schooner seeking shelter in Guantanamo, but in 1947, for these ex-Navy boys, it was no trouble at all to arrange the services of a military travel lift, etcetera.

So the narrative goes, across the Caribbean, leading to a 600-mile leg to the Canal and through to the West Coast, where Kelpie stopped over in Balboa, Panama for yet more of the never-ending refurbishing.

Our correspondent, Dave, in port in Balboa, Panama addressing the varnish

Farther along, Kelpie stopped in the Costa Rican banana port of Quepos. There the crew was warmly received by Americans running the United Fruit Company base, and most of the crew took a small-plane flight to the capital city, San Jose, only to find that they had arrived in the midst of a revolt. The government newspaper offices were bombed overnight, the streets teemed with troops with fixed bayonets, and mobs roamed with sticks and stones and packs of yapping dogs. As revolutions go, it could have been a lot messier. Ducking into any nearest doorway proved adequate protection, but, “interesting spectacle” though it was, two nights in San Jose was enough of that.

The return to Quepos revealed significant complications.

At this point, allow me to interject a quote from Hemingway: “Never trust a man whose story hangs together too well.”

I’ll interpret that to mean, never trust a story that hangs together too well. In his submission to Yachting Magazine, Dave related a highly-sanitized version of Kelpie’s time in Quepos. I heard a rather-different version as relayed by Dave’s son, Stan Honey. And I heard yet another version from Stan’s Uncle Dick, who lives about an hour north of the Golden Gate.

Here is Dick’s version, related while sitting at a dining table littered for the occasion with manuscripts, newspaper clippings and photos of that long-ago voyage:

“In Quepos the manager of the United Fruit plant befriended us. He let us shop at the company store, where prices were a pittance, and, well, everything was the same price.

“We found out that we could take a small plane up the mountain to the capital, San Jose, and that sounded like something we might never get a chance to do again, so Dave and I plus another American we had picked up in Panama took off for San Jose. We left our Cayman Islander, Boyce, in charge of the boat and [. . . events in the capital as described above] when we got back to Quepos, the dinghy was ashore, and Boyce was nowhere to be seen.”

Oops.

“Well, it turned out that Boyce was an alcoholic. We didn’t know it. He had come with good references. Physically, he was strong, and he had never touched a drop since coming aboard in the Caymans. But when we left Haiti, the priest there had given us a few bottles of, umm, sacramental wine, and when Boyce found himself alone on the boat, he lost his cool. And once he got going, the wine wasn’t enough. We also had a small arsenal that Mace had brought aboard, a German Luger with a big clip and a couple of 22s and a 32 automatic pistol, maybe more guns too, and when Boyce ran dry on the boat, he took the guns ashore and traded them for more liquor. But ‘smuggling’ guns into Costa Rica in the middle of a revolution was, you might imagine, a real big no-no. When we found Boyce, we found him in jail. Sobered up by that time. All he could do was hang his head in shame.

“And they weren’t going to let him out.”

What to do?

“Our friend at United Fruit made a persuasive suggestion: ‘You boys better get out of here before they confiscate the boat.’

“We went.

“Later, when we got to California, Dave tried to determine what had come of Boyce, but that was all those years ago, and we never did find out.”

Kelpie’s crew left Quepos aiming for Acapulco, some 1000 miles. First, however, they had to cross the Gulf of Tehuantepec, notorious for light airs interspersed with the fierce “Tehuantepecker” winds that blow from land to sea, funneling across the narrowest neck of the Mexican mainland. “Those are high-pressure winds,” Dick relates. “The pilot books are full of red flags, and they warn you to hug the beach and hug the lee.” The urge to keep moving in the light stuff, however, gradually lured Kelpie’s crew farther out to sea. Powering for mileage was not an option. Kelpie’s prop was mounted off center and shallow. Pitching in a seaway, it would air out with the risk over-revving the motor. “We never motored at sea,” Dick recalls, “except in a dire emergency.” That would come later. First came the storm.

Twenty days and 600 slow miles beyond Quepos, Dick wrote, “It came with a roar and no warning.”

“It” being a four-day Tehuantepecker that vacillated between Force 8 and Force 9, with gusts to Force 10. In Dick’s description, “We were down to a storm trysail and a reefed main. The skies stayed brilliant and clear day and night. The spray never stopped flying, never stopped accumulating salt and never stopped blowing the salt off. When it was over, all the varnish had been stripped.

“I wonder, do they still call it a Tehuantepecker?”

Yep.

A month amid the comforts of the Acapulco Yacht Club resolved the varnish problems, one square inch at a time, and allowed for repairing other wear and tear before departing for San Diego, that welcoming sailor’s refuge under the lee of Point Loma.

By way of a stop in the Socorro Islands, about 250 miles southwest of Cabo san Lucas.

By way of breaking a fitting and losing the mainmast just a few hours after getting under way from the Socorros.

By way of limping back to the islands under power—now we’re talking emergency—and then taking a tow to San Diego behind a tuna boat that, by all odds, should have been nowhere near the Socorros when Kelpie came limping in. Far from the mainland. On a remote island. With no radio capability.

The second landfall in the Socorros

And so it goes. Navigationis interruptus. And the source of many a tale to be told and retold and polished and repolished over the years. So Dick’s account of getting out of Quepos is a trifle (actually, more than a trifle) different from Dave’s unwritten tale, as told to Stan, of mysterious powders and strange sleep? The sands of time are forever shifting. Stan Honey says now, “I’m sure that listening to those stories as a kid had a lot to do with sparking my own interest in ocean sailing.” In which Stan Honey’s history is more than average.

And just to prove that the more things change, the more they stay the same, let me remind you that I opened with an account of Dave Honey’s years of correspondence with then-editor of Yachting Magazine Critchell Rimington, who never got around to running Dave’s story. To be precise, eleven years of correspondence.

It’s been a few months since I stumbled, again, across the box of letters, manuscripts and photographs that Stan placed in my hands when he first brought this up—the voyages of Utopia II and Kelpie—to see if there might be a story there for me. The package sat for . . . a while . . . waiting for me to find a way into the story, a way to tell it for the here and now.

As I aim to squeeze the Publish trigger in my software, the date is—

March 10, 2014.

Stan’s original note to me, along with that stuffed cardboard box, was dated—

December 19, 2004.

And Dick Honey turns 90 today.

Happy birthday, Dick. Hey there, JoAnne.

Photo by Tamisie Honey

POSTCRIPT

Kelpie was designed in 1928 by Francis Sweisguth, still celebrated for his most famous creation, the 22-foot Star. Kelpie had a long and storied sojourn on the West Coast of the Americas, including time in the charter trade out of Newport Harbor.

Kelpie was sold a few years ago into the capable hands of Charlie Wroe, well known as the captain of another classic schooner, Mariette, a boat kept like a prize jewel, which ought to give you a fix on this boat’s bright future. Wroe is giving Kelpie a deep-down restoration at the Gweek Quay Boatyard in Cornwall, U.K. under an updated name, Kelpie of Falmouth. Progress is easily followed through an open group on Facebook.

Wroe aims to have his “new” boat on the starting line for the fourth edition of the Pendennis Cup starting May 27. Meanwhile, the team is going deep. As of June, 2013, this was the look . . .

By February of 2014, it was more like this . . .

Insert Kelpie of Falmouth into this 2012 frame, and you have the look of the Pendennis Cup 2014. The future is looking good.

Photo © Richard Langdon

Cal Maritime Does It Again

Sail Feed - Mon, 2014-03-10 11:23

Is there such a term as ‘four-peat?’ If not, Cal Maritime has invented it – with their fourth consecutive win in the Port of Los Angeles Harbor Cup.

Going into the final day of this prestigious invitational intercollegiate regatta, the Cal Maritime Keelhaulers held a tenuous lead over the 10-boat fleet.

“We had a few slip ups yesterday, so we didn’t have quite as much cushion as we wanted to,” explained Keelhauler tactician Scott Doyle. “We knew we really had to go out and stick it to USC and make sure they were behind us, and Navy too, because they were pretty close too. We have the talent, we just needed to focus and make sure to sail really clean.”

But they would have to wait. The day started out dismally light: Daylight Savings Time put the first warning an hour earlier than usual. During a subsequent delay of nearly two-hours, several students jumped into the bracing Pacific – prompting a broadcast on VHF: ‘The Race Committee would appreciate it if the fleet would not use their main halyards as a swing to go swimming.’

With zephyrs of 4-5k, the postponement flag came down and Race Nine of the 10-race series commenced. Cal Maritime led the fleet around the course for a bullet, with the UCI Anteaters logging their best finish of the regatta, an impressive second place.

By the final race the wind was filling in from the west. But an OCS at the start nearly toppled Cal Maritime’s reign. “We knew we were close, but we had a boat to leeward and were worried about them pushing us up. And we didn’t want to foul them, that could have ruined it for us,” explained Doyle. Over early, Cal Maritime jibed around.

It proved to be an advantage.

“We figured, ‘We’re starting out behind; a bunch of tacks would be slow,’ so we just sent it to the right, and hoped for the big righty shift. And we got it – so it worked out pretty well.”

Cal Maritime was launched, recapturing the lead by the first windward mark – and not letting go for the entire three-lap race.

“We knew Cal Maritime was going to sail well today, so we were focusing on USC; and we knew University of Hawaii was also pretty close behind,” said US Naval Academy skipper Andrew Beeler. “We had a pretty bad first race, so Hawaii was only two points behind going into the last race. We were confident we could put things together, but we knew Hawaii was good in these conditions too. We had to beat them, and made it our strategy just to stay ahead of them. We fought really hard and were able to hang with them just enough to beat them out in the end.”

Navy retained third place overall, bowing to USC in second place.

“This regatta is something I’ve wanted to do my whole time at Navy,” Beeler continued. “I’ve always wanted to go, and it did not disappoint.”

“The weather was great; the conditions were awesome. The boats were so even. And the competition was like we’ve never seen in college sailing before. It did not disappoint at all – I’m really glad I got to come to this race.”

“This event is unbelievable,” mirrored Hollister ‘Holly’ Poole, skipper of Maine Maritime Academy. “They do a great job and provide us with everything we need. We absolutely love it, and will definitely be back next year.”

The event is raced annually, in the waters off Los Angeles, aboard Catalina 37s – the same boats used for the iconic Congressional Cup. Ten teams from across the nation compete in three days of intense racing, organized by Los Angeles Yacht Club with California Maritime Academy as the host.

As reported by Betsy Crowfoot March 9 2014

What do cruising kids do all day?

Sail Feed - Mon, 2014-03-10 09:43

It seems that the everyday life of the Totem cruising kids is somewhat opaque in recent blog content (thank you reader email for pointing that out!). They’ve been pretty busy- just a little differently than the normal ways that a 9, 11 and 14 year old are busy. Here is a smattering from the last few days.

Siobhan started a little bakery business. On Fridays, there’s a vegetable truck that comes around to sell fresh produce to cruisers in the little bay where we are anchored. She’s gotten up early to do some baking and earned a nice bit of cash by selling muffins and pastries to the cruisers who come in for veggies. She pays me back for ingredients, and keeps the rest of the proceeds.

asking price: three ringgit each (about $1). great math practice making change.

Niall built a raft from all the driftwood and garbage (an esky, plastic sheets, fishing line) that washes up on the beach of the little islet where they play every day. He rigged it with a crab claw sail and took it for a spin. (Thanks to our anchorage neighbor Nigel for this shot!)

heading for the pass between the islets

With help from their friends on other kid boats, they’re building shelters on the beach: forts, hideouts, tree houses. Some of these were started before they arrived, others they’ve created on their own. Honestly, this tree house terrifies me, and we’ve had The Safety Talk. I trust them, but… well, I’m still their mother.

Notice the hammocks, strung up between trees around the bonfire area from fishing nets. There’s even a dried-out puffer fish “chandelier” dangling overhead to complete the image.

They built a network of trenches on the beach. I asked why. They just said “for fun!” Well, OK! Niall said that when they put a leaf structure over the top it’s a nice cool spot to rest a while. It’s hot here. I get that.

It’s a long skinny islet that we’re anchored off. Yesterday’s discovery was a shed snakeskin. That’s a little disturbing for mama bear here, because snakeskin = snakes, and not all the snakes around here are the kind you want to met on a dark tree limb. We think we’ve identified it as a harmless tree snake, but it’s hard to really know for certain.

Back on Totem, kid-driven carpentry is happening. Wood scraps have been reclaimed from the area under the aft cabin berth as it is cleared to make room for our much-anticipated new battery bank. As the pieces which can become giveaways or scrap end up on deck, the girls have requisitioned them for their own projects. First on the list: building a box to hold their treasures in.

What else? They read. A lot. Sometimes it seems like a ridiculous amount, and I want to redirect them: go swim! Sweep the floor! Kayak! SOMETHING! Then I remember- they have fallen in love with reading, one of the things I perhaps irrationally worried about the most. In the world of life skills on their docket, I’m happy. Niall is deep in history books (re-reading 1776). Mairen is in the middle of The Lord of the Rings series. Siobhan has started the sixth Harry Potter book. And I wondered if they would ever be “readers”…

A bonfire in the evening brings us together with the spread of crew from other boats. Happy evenings, roasting marshmallows on a bonfire on the islet.

Kids at heart know we love it when you read this on the Sailfeed website

Am I Still A Cruiser When I’m Not Sailing?

Sail Feed - Sat, 2014-03-08 21:01

I spent Wednesday evening packed into a small cafeteria with two hundred other parents.  As we listened to Stylish’s principal talk about school rules and signing homework planners, I smiled to myself as I thought of how many similar “welcome to the new school year” talks I’d been to in years gone by.  French or English, here or there, every primary school seems to follow the same script.  Just the like the birthday party Indy attended the weekend before.  Same kids, same moms, same presents, same activities.  Except for the language, it was just like home.

A chill ran down my spine as the realization hit me.  I am living my old, pre-boat life: staying in one place, husband away working, kids in school, me running the household.  Am I even a cruiser anymore?

I started writing this blog back when we first hopped aboard.  In the early days, it was a way to update the family on our day-to-day, and to reassure them that our progeny remained safe and whole.  (You can guess which task was more important.)  As time went by, I wrote more and more about sailing things.  Because we were, you know, sailing.  I talked about fixing stuff, travelling from place to place, and the funny things that happened along the way.  SAILfeed started syndicating the blog, and I got into even more of a sailing mindset.  I was writing about the sailing life.  As my kids would say: sailing here, sailing there, sailing in our underwear.  Everything to do with life on the water.

I have spent the last three and a half years thinking of myself as a cruiser.  A person having an adventure with her family, roaming hither and yon, visiting new ports, making new friends, and learning about the exciting and varied world of boat repair.  And, without really thinking about it, I build a mental picture of cruisers being people like us.

Which is, of course, ridiculous.  Yes, we have been living the “move-along” cruising life.  But, when I think carefully about the other live-aboards I’ve met, ours certainly isn’t the only way to cruise.  Lots of people like to sail back and forth between two locations, six months here, six months there.  Others have their favorite loop.  Still others live on the boat in one place and just take weekend jaunts – or none at all.  They are still part of the cruising community.  They can relate to my generator issues.  They know what it is like to be a walking guide to local chandleries and services.  They may not be in the game to chase the “new” experience all the time, but they are just as much cruisers as those sailors who are always moving on.

I expect our temporary halt to be, well, temporary.  I expect to fix the boat and sail out of here a few months down the road.  In the meantime, I am going to make peace with the fact that I have morphed into a different sort of cruiser.  I am still having new experiences, but they are mostly related to integrating into a different culture.  For the time being, my eyes will be less on the water and more on becoming a part of this place.

So, forgive me sailors.  Until we get moving again, I am going to focus on writing about a different aspect of cruising: stopping and integrating into the local culture.  I am still a cruiser, but I am learning how to be a different sort.  A patient sort.  A dying-to-go-sailing-but-I-can’t-so-I’m-going-to-enjoy-this-instead sort.  I am going to put our “just roll with it” philosophy to the test.

I’ll get back to chasing the thrill of the open seas, but, in the meantime, I’m glad to have you with me in Noumea.

Sailing Through Mardi Gras

Sail Feed - Sat, 2014-03-08 13:26
It’s no surprise to me that so many sailors are also writers, nor that the best of these often live out secluded lives. Not a few classics in the genre include passages about the glorious solitude of sailing singlehanded over great distances, of living alone in a small cabin with only an oil lamp, a molding library, and a notepad for company. For us who have never crossed an ocean, but want to, have yet to single-hand, but quietly carry big plans, have barely started books, but dream of finishing them, these sea stories carry a fair weight, amplified of course by certain moods. I find inspiration even in the ones that are a mere guilty pleasures, tall tales written by authors we know not to have done quite what their stories tell us. Facts aside, one thing that these stories show clearly, unassailably, is the power of a sailboat as a mental space, a place to think and to write. For most of us writing requires solitude, or at least an illusion of it. Words fall into order more easily in a calm, quiet place with time and space to think uninterrupted. And sailboats, especially those that are never raced, aspire to be just such an environment. When I was living on my boat, before the trip, my favorite part of the day was waking up to make coffee and sip it alone at my tiny table. I loved being ensconced in a space completely my own, hearing only the sounds of the lake: wavelets, wind, the shake and slap of halyards and poorly-furled sails. It was the best place I’ve ever found for writing, and even when I was sailing it, living with three others in twenty-eight feet of space I still often felt that same productive solitude. A half-finished house is quite a different beast. From May of last year clear through November I was living almost all the time in small sailboats, and was writing regularly. Now I’ve returned to New Orleans and I’m renovating a house with my parents. From the quiet comfort of a boat I’ve come to live in a space clouded with dust, jumbled with construction debris, and ringing with work at a frenetic pace which comes far more naturally to them than it does me. On ‘good’ days I’m up at seven with the sound of the tile saw and, unless I escape on some pretext, working until we wind down with the dwindling light. On bad days I’m at home, picking up books and as quickly setting them down, or staring for hours at a few words on a computer screen, fretting about my lack of productivity while my parents work tirelessly on the house.                 Mardi Gras was a welcome break. For a week the whole city pauses, drops any pretense at work and boils with an ecstatic and stunningly creative sense of play. It’s a sight to behold. Then comes the end of Carnival, Ash Wednesday arriving with the plodding, lenten pace of the policemen tasked with clearing Bourbon street at midnight on Fat Tuesday. With or without religion, lent in New Orleans is a time of moderation and focus. It always comes too soon for the tourists but for many of us who live here it’s just on time, and it’s a time for fresh starts. For me Mardi Gras was also a return to boats. After being sucked so completely into projects on land, this celebration finally got me back out on the water for the first time in months. I had a lovely sail one morning on good old Margaret and I got to attend maybe my favorite parade of the season, the Loupe Garou Boat Parade in City Park. This year was the best we’ve had, with maybe twenty boats swirling down the bayou, bumping to the Balkan brass music of the Slow Danger Brass Band who were riding on the homemade ‘band boat’ and distributed throughout the parade in canoes. It was a perfect day, and a great return to this activity I love.

Changing Dreams in Midstream

Sail Feed - Fri, 2014-03-07 11:37

The sailing ventures of Dave Honey and Dick Honey

Posted March 7, 2014 By Kimball Livingston

I have something in common with the brothers Honey. Separated by a generation, we never got published in the pages of Yachting Magazine.

Five minutes after the end of the Second World War, and even before they were discharged from the Navy, Dave and Dick were already knee-deep in plotting a getaway under sail, East Coast to West Coast of the Americas. I challenge you to imagine yourself as a young co-owner of a newly-purchased, old-school fishing schooner, walking into the deep woods of Nova Scotia in the company of friendly local fishermen until you come to the perfect black spruce and they look up, and they appraise, and they declare in a lilt that rolls on like the sea, something like, “Aye, that tree’s about right to make a proper new mainmast for your boat.”

I was introduced to the tale through Stan Honey (yes, that Stan), whose father, Dave, was lost to us in 2009. But Uncle Dick is still here, and clear, closing on ninety as I write this. Dick told me the story of the tree, aka the mast. But it was Stan who shared with me the correspondence between his father, Dave, and then-editor of Yachting Critchell Rimington as a publication date spooled on and on through the 1940s and ’50s and into oblivion. I had to grin.

And I guess I have a leg up. Yachting paid me a hundred bucks for the first story I ever sold. They never ran it. Yachting also gave me my first commission. They rejected the story, which later ran as a feature in SAIL and later still became the first chapter of a book, Sailing the Bay.

This isn’t written to crucify Yachting. I’m just a reporter. These things happened, years ago and umpteen iterations of that magazine ago, ahead of a succession of owners and editors. Millennials may find it news that, from its founding in 1907 and into the 1970s, Yachting stood (almost) alone. RIP The Rudder. In its heyday, Yachting had offices a short walk from the New York Yacht Club. With features, columns and news reports from the various regions—news that was a few months old, but that was state of the art—Yachting was the natural, aspirational target for a twenty-something Dave Honey offering an account of a voyage that, while not unique, was singular. Very few people, in 1946, went ocean voyaging. But nothing I get from reading the long-ago writings of Dave Honey, and nothing I get from talking now to Dick Honey, makes it seem that they regarded that voyage as anything other than essential.

My kind of people.

Now, this is not going to be an everything-fits-together story, much less a you-gotta-read-this-or-else kind of story. But it’s a thing of beauty: Young men fresh out of service, members of the greatest generation, if you must, delivered from the threat of war, determined to take a bite of the sailing life before they settled into what they assumed would be the inevitable, consuming obligations of work and family.

Looking for adventure, they went. And how many of us have ever had the varnish stripped by a relentless Tehuantepecker?

THE CORRESPONDENCE

Aspiring writers may take this history as heartening or not, to see that travail is spread widely. I tried scanning Dave Honey’s two-page letter, but starting from mimeograph (you could look it up) it makes a difficult read. Below is a transcript. The original was written, I believe, from a business address. Note the dates.

July 23, 1959

621 South Hope Street   Los Angeles 17, California

Mr. Critchell Rimington
Managing Editor
Yachting Magazine
205 East 42nd Street
New York 17, New York

Dear Mr. Rimington:

I have been going through some old files and came across a large sheaf of correspondence with you dating from June 7, 1948 and continuing through March 29, 1953. This file of correspondence, as you may remember, relates to the matter of my furnishing you with a series of articles and photographs. This series is still in your files in original manuscript form as well as a collection of color slides.

At the risk of testing your patience, I will quote from several of your letters over this period.

June 11, 1948…”I feel certain that there are various phases of your cruise that would make the best sort of article for us.”

May 11, 1949…“We are still struggling to get caught up on our inventory with the result that every time I hear from you and others as to the exact date of an article I shudder. Seriously, however, we are making real progress, however slow, and I do hope to give you a definite date soon.”

June 10, 1950…“We hadn’t planned to use your piece for another couple of months so that if you get the pictures back to me within the next six weeks or so, it will be quite all right.”

January 12, 1951…“I am now making some long-range schedules for the next five or six issues and I certainly will not forget your script which is anything but forgotten.”

Now, I do not think that you can accuse me of being impatient with this whole matter, Mr. Rimington, and perhaps it has been that you do not want to hurt my feelings by returning the manuscript and pictures. Let me hasten to assure you that this whole thing occurred so far in the dim, distant past that this really should not be a major consideration. Perhaps I can interest some historical society in the articles.

Patiently yours, D.C. Honey

SETTING OUT ABOARD UTOPIA II

The dream, as Dave Honey would describe it, was ambitious, to find “a real bargain in a small, seaworthy boat” and take her to sea. The modest pot of money to make it happen would come from the discharge payments of four young men, fresh out of the U.S. Navy in 1946, a decade when yacht building had been halted and many existing pleasure boats had been taken by the military and used hard. Prices for the few good boats were high. With Dave closing in on his date of discharge, but still at sea in the Pacific, his brother Dick Honey and two other already-free veterans—thrown together either by college or the Navy, a mix of Oregon, California and Ohio natives—had followed the affordable-boat trail to the unbeaten pathways of West Dover, Nova Scotia.

West Dover, Nova Scotia © Harbor View Cottages

West Dover today remains a fishing community with a population hovering about 200, except in summer, when tourists swell that number considerably. In 1946, West Dover was even smaller and a mite harder to get to. The first paved road, and the post office, came later. Getting around often involved hitchhiking, where the good news was that folks were friendly and generous and kind enough to switch out of their opaque, Scot-influenced dialect when speaking to strangers. The bad news, there wasn’t much traffic.

Added to the Honeys of Portland, Oregon were Brian Dunne of Pasadena, California and Mace Hallock of Ohio. Each had a piece of the dream, and yes, at a time when the locals expected their working craft to have a service life of about ten years, there was this 35-foot schooner that was priced right, not used up and correct in many ways. It needed just a few things. A cabin for example.

Dave Honey, Dick Honey,Brian Dunne and Mace Hallock, 1946

Dick and Brian were Caltech-trained physicists. Dick would later spend time working for the Stanford Research Institute (as would his nephew, Dave’s son, Stan). Mace was a mechanical engineer. Dave was an industrial engineer and our journalist of reference here. Along with their book savvy, there was plenty of the rough and ready can-do spirit that had just won a war with duct tape and chewing gum. Sure, they could build a cabin, bunks, shelving, lockers. Get some new sails. Sure, they could replace rock ballast with 2,500 pounds of railroad iron and batten it into the bilges, but not until a six years’ accumulation of fish scales had been cleared. There was something about needing a new mainmast, too, but here was a real boat, as Dave put it:

“The old fisherman sat aft on the counter by the lantern, smoking, and he watched the young men with a half-amused, half-hopeful glint in his eye. He had grown fond of the Utopia II, pine over oak on nine-inch centers. She had reached out to the Banks with him for six seasons and had stood up to weather that had sent many of the larger boats scurrying for shelter. He wondered whether these young’uns would know a good boat when they saw it. They looked like they might.”

Nine hundred dollars Canadian sealed the deal. That was about half of the combined discharge cash, even with most of Dick’s discharge money intact, for example, because rather than buy train tickets he had first hitched home to Oregon from his discharge in Chicago, then hitched his way back across the country to the East Coast to launch the search for a boat. Now, Utopia II offered the promise of the dream. He and his buddies had first proposed a cruise, in one of Dick’s letters to Dave. Drafting his magazine piece, Dave put down the words, “and what better time to take such a trip. We were all relatively unattached, out of the Navy and through school. I wrote back telling Dick to count me in for sure, having become increasingly uneasy about following in the immediate future the prescribed pattern of ‘settling down.’ ”

About the mainmast, Dick says now, “I forget just what was wrong about the mast, but the locals took us out to the woods and showed us the tree that we needed, so we cut it down, and that was fairly early in the game, because we still needed to build the cabin. We trimmed the branches – there was a lot of time spent with a spoke shave – and left it to sit and dry as far as possible before we had to step it as a mast.”

The list of needs grew shorter and longer simultaneously, and the season closed in, but Dick Honey recalls today that Utopia II (the name came with the boat) was the one successful cruiser of the half dozen or so mustered in Mahone Bay that summer. Success meaning, Utopia II would make it all the way to St. Petersburg, Florida. Not that that was The End.

Utopia II

“United Sailmakers of Lunenberg completed a beautiful new suit of sails at the unbelievably low cost of a dollar a square yard,” Dave wrote. The four boat owners—officially yachtsmen now—worked fourteen- or sixteen-hour days, “and we returned each night to a camp in the nearby woods.”

“We were living on onions,” Dick relates, “because onions were the cheapest food we could find.”

When the cabin was rough-finished, they broke camp and moved aboard. Meanwhile, their fisher friends were advising them to “get out before the September gales start blowing.” That meant that it was time for the felled tree to become a mast, fully dried or not, Dick recalls, “and we hauled her down there and put her in. That’s really all there was to it.”

Thus, Utopia II became a complete yacht. That is, a boat to be used for pleasure, but of the most practical sort. Luxuries there were none, just stuff that made sense, and “stuffed” with supplies, spares and tools was the state belowdecks on August 23, 1946 as Utopia II bade farewell to Mahone Bay and opened to the broad Atlantic. “We had each been in the Navy,” Dave wrote, “but let me at this point dispel any illusion that we had learned all about the sea and boats in that organization. On the contrary, our combined sailing experience might be had by anyone in a few afternoons of leisurely sailing on a protected body of water. But experience was forthcoming in quantity.”

This narrative will fast-forward through the voyage down the Eastern Seaboard. It was a time when life rafts from mothballed warships could be found stacked and abandoned on the docks, yielding a treasure trove of emergency rations to be “liberated” for a hungry crew. Otherwise, there is much to say but little that is new or instructive about that first encounter with profound fog and near disaster, or the first big blow, or the occasional groundings and frequent motoring upon entering the Inland Waterway—though few of my readers will have experienced same with a “little unreliable two-cylinder, make-and-break engine of about ten horsepower” that had to be flywheel-cranked. The size and sophistication of the towns along the way, 1947 to now, would have been different, and you probably don’t need help with that. Dave noted the change in vegetation, from Virginia’s pine woods to the cypress swamps of the Carolinas: “We were often greeted by small, solemn barefoot boys, each trailing his relic of a shotgun, each with a bird dog nosing in the brush nearby. Winding down the canal was almost like taking a long walk in the woods, being, if possible, more beautiful.”

There would be a long stretch through protective, deep woods, with the banks mirrored in calm waters, only to break out into the open of a windswept bay and go screaming, rail down and bug-free, into the woods on the opposite side and then back to mirrored calm.

But every cruise has its disappointments: “I fished off and on all the way down,” Dave wrote, “through reputedly the best striped bass, channel bass and weakfish waters, without any luck.”

Then came Florida and a turn to the west across the vast shallows of Lake Okeechobee and into the St. Lucie Canal, with flamingoes and herons raising a ruckus. Our foursome marveled at the speed and subtlety of the alligators. Utopia II emerged on the Gulf Coast at Fort Myers and led on to an anchorage at St. Petersburg, still just a town in that day. No one could foresee the statewide boom that would follow, rather soon, the invention of air conditioning. None among our crew could see what was coming next for them, either. Some work, for sure. Dave and Mace took jobs on a charter yacht while Dick and Brian set back to work in earnest on Utopia II, taking time out to crew and win Class B in the St. Pete-Havana race aboard the sleek cutter, Den-E-Von.

Along the way, in the way of cruising, Utopia II had crossed and recrossed paths with fellow voyagers but especially with a larger, well-fitted schooner out of Boston named Kelpie. Bonds had been formed. And so it was that, while Utopia II and her crew of four contemplated how best to replenish the kitty and effect repairs before setting off into the great beyond of the Caribbean, “A letter arrived from Howard Springer, the owner of the schooner Kelpie, proposing that we sell Utopia II and join the Kelpie for its trip through the Bahamas and West Indies, the Panama Canal, and the west coast of Central America and Mexico to Southern California.”

Imagine the jolt.

The route would be the same, but.

All those plans. All those dreams. And yet, all those plans and all those dreams were a dollar short, and it was possible for our boys to sell their doughty little schooner right there in St. Petersburg for enough to cover all costs to date.

Did somebody say, cover all costs to date?

“And so ended the cruise of the Utopia II, perhaps a little sooner than we had thought. But we had set no destination for our cruise, for the reason that, when one sets a goal in that sort of game, he becomes so intent on it that he forgets what he came for—a good time—and that we’d had with Utopia II. The morning that we left her to a new owner, she was nodding and tugging impatiently at her bow line.”

Fairwell, Utopia II . . .

BELOW: Selections from the two-page bill from H.G. Stairs, broker and outfitter, West Dover, Nova Scotia

August 23, 1946 H.G. Stairs

10% commission on Utopia II 100.00
5 inch Wilcox compass 31.03
Chrome galley sink pump 8.25
60 lb galv. Kedge anchor 13.75
Wooden case barometer 7.75
14 telephone calls 1.55
50 ft ½ ” Galv Wire Rope 6 X 7 4.75
Nautical American Almanac .75
Total of entire list (not shown) $454.99

Monday: Part II, The Voyage of the Kelpie

Grael Holds on at Bacardi Cup

Sail Feed - Thu, 2014-03-06 22:15

With a front blowing through, 55 Star Class boats racing for the Bacardi Cup had the best race of a previously light-air regatta on Biscayne Bay.

While Lars Grael held onto his overall lead with a 14th-place finish in race four, the race – as reported by Paul Cayard – went to Xavier Rohart, with Serge Pulfer as crew, hitting the first right shift: “They were in a league of their own. They hit the right hand side of the course pretty hard and had a handy lead at the first windward mark. They are fast in breeze and therefore were able to stretch out on the fleet from there. Larry Whipple and Austin Sperry were 2nd all the way around the course. Brian Ledbetter and Josh Revkin sailed very well to get 3rd.”

Current Place, Sail Number, Boatname, Skipper/Crew

1. BRA8474 Renata Lars Grael / Samuel F. M. Gonzalves
2. USA8320M Quantum Mark Reynolds / Magnus Liljedahl
3. BRA8494M Vida Bandida Torben S. Grael / Guilheme Almeida
4. FRA8237M La Pelle Xavier Rohart / Pulfer Serge
5. USA8404 Funky Star Brad Funk / Mark Strube

Beginning Thursday, five other classes joined the Stars for Miami Sailing Week, where John Kilroy led off with a first place finish in Melges 20s.

The new MarineTraffic Internet AIS service, cautiously optimistic

Sail Feed - Thu, 2014-03-06 18:56

Written by Ben Ellison on Mar 6, 2014 for Panbo, The Marine Electronics Hub

These days I feel obliged to include a warning every time I write about AIS over the Internet. What you see in a nice app like ShipFinder HD (above) probably does not include every vessel that’s transmitting AIS info even in fairly well covered areas like the Miami/Lauderdale area, and many areas aren’t covered at all…unless perhaps you’re using the Seapilot app in Sweden or somehow have access to another well-organized AIS receiver system. That’s because what most of us see on computers, phones or tablets connected to the web is target data collected by patchy networks of volunteers, whose shore antennas may well miss even fairly nearby 2 Watt Class B AIS transmissions or even 12 Watt Class A signals obscured by buildings or terrain (or may suddenly go offline just because the volunteer’s kid trips on a power cord or something similar).

That warning stated, one particular source of Internet AIS, MarineTraffic, seems to have attracted a large number of volunteer listening stations. The screen above shows all the stations currently registered in the USA — a lot more than there used to be — with the color green representing the ones that were sharing live data this morning. MarineTraffic (MT) is even stronger in Europe, and thus, the bottom left brag about having 56,026 AIS targets in range when I grabbed the screen. Note also how MT vastly improved its web browser presentation recently, though that change came with a possible problem.

Along with a completely redesigned web interface and a slew of new features, MarineTraffic became a commercial AIS tracking operation, and I’ve unhappily experienced that transition before. Back in 2005, I lamented the limitations of AISlive once it went seriously commercial, and something similar happened to the VesselTracker site that was a favorite in 2008 (along with several still-good regional services). In recent years MarineTraffic seemed to build the best global coverage with the most user features among the free sites, but will a hunger for subscription revenues mean decreased AIS tracking for freeloaders like me?
   Well, so far so good, and I like the “Free Forever” notation on the Basic membership in the various service plans partly shown above.  The plan list is also a good place to see all the features MarineTraffic offers now, including satellite tracking of vessels beyond shore stations. And about the only new limitations for Free users that I can detect are a limit of 5 vessels in “My Fleet” and only three days of vessel track history. Those features remain pretty useful in my view, and I particularly like being able to tag Fleet vessels so I get emailed when they enter or leave a port, as noted in this 2012 MarineTraffic appreciation. My Fleet combined with the still free MT map widget also makes a nice addition to Panbo’s About page (and might work well for many marina and boatyard sites).

Notice that my own My Fleet isn’t limited to 5 vessels of interest and that my screenshots aren’t showing the ads that appear if you’re on the Free plan or unregistered altogether. That’s because MT gave free Premium subscriptions to all its volunteer station keepers when the plans were introduced, and I was maintaining a receiver here in Camden (as I wrote about here). That was a nice gesture (and I hope to get a station running on Gizmo before MT pulls the subscription). It’s neat, for instance, to zoom into targets on a high quality (Jeppesen C-Map) nautical chart anywhere in the world.
The example above shows a yacht working its way into an exotic looking anchorage in the Tobago Cays today — an inspiring sight from a desk in chilly Maine — though its Class B signal is barely being captured by a volunteer station on Carriacou. And that’s why it’s great the MarineTraffic is offering free Pro or Premium plans to new volunteer stations (depending on performance) and even offer free receivers for good locations.

There really can’t be too many AIS receiving stations in my experience, and I continue to think that it’s a great opportunity for marinas and other coastwise marine businesses to “add a little value” and do a little marketing at low cost. In fact, one reason I’ve been lax with my home station is that Wayfarer Marine set up a reliable station in Camden Harbor, and the inhouse installer Alden Cole enjoys maintaining a volunteer station so much he also minds a home system high in the hills behind town. There’s another station at the Lyman Morse boatyard in Thomaston — note the credit in the target detail box above (that’s the marketing part) — and Walter Barnard’s station recently opened in the north bay. Walter’s rig is down today, but note that he’s also been taking photos of local AIS targets like the ferry shown above, and photos are a huge part of Internet AIS (and can also earn free MT subscriptions). And finally, a new station just popped up in Searsport, but they haven’t yet identified themselves on their MT account’s My Stations page. (This screen also shows where the ads go if you’re not logged into a pro subscription).

At any rate, it looks like the east side of Penobscot Bay will be well covered on MarineTraffic when spring arrives and lots more boats finally appear. It’s likely then that even a small boat sailing around North Haven will be able to know when the ferry will loom out of the fog, with just a smartphone and an inexpensive app like MarineTraffic’s own. If the existing stations stay alive, even more elaborate Internet AIS focused apps like the SeaNav/BoatBeacon combo should work well around here. Plus, Wayfarer and Lyman Morse (anyone really) can put up MT widgets so their customers with AIS, or their families, can see what’s going on from afar. They can even suggest the mAIS app so boaters can get on MT, even if they don’t have a real AIS transponder.
But not far in either direction, and in many other places around the US coast, there’s still no Internet AIS coverage at all. If you have a spot and a few hundred dollars to invest, please consider becoming a MarineTraffic volunteer. I also think all us volunteers should hedge our bets and promote competition by contributing our feeds to other sites like AISHub, ShipFinder, and FleetMon (I’ll add details to the “how-to” entry).

While I’m obviously an Internet AIS enthusiast, I should finish where I began. This spring there will be another spike of boaters with newly installed Class B transponders (good!) who will call their installer or supplier because they can’t see themselves on MarineTraffic or a similar site. Sometimes it’s because a forest of nearby masts in the marina kill the signal, but usually it’s because the location isn’t really covered, at least for Class B. We need to help folks out with this confusion and we need more receivers, I think. Meanwhile, one recent MT joy has been watching Yme’s electric Drift Away cruising the fascinating waterways of Holland in near real time. Do other armchair I-AIS cruisers prefer other sites or have ways to use MT that I haven’t discovered yet?

Click here to read comments about this Panbo entry, or add your own.

How the America’s Cup Came to the Caribbean 1500

Sail Feed - Thu, 2014-03-06 16:28

2014 will mark the 25th edition of the Caribbean 1500. It’s now officially branded the ARC Caribbean 1500, ostensibly to have it fall in line with World Cruising Club’s other rallies around the world bearing similar monikers. But to those who sail it, and those who long to, it’ll always be, simply, the ’1500.’

I first got involved in 2006, sailing on my first-ever offshore passage aboard the Jeanneau 40 Dress Parade. We were last to finish, leaving from Charleston, SC, on our own, and joining the fleet in Tortola, when the event still called Road Town home. Fast forward a few years – I’m now, alongside my wife Mia, the event manager for the 1500, and have sailed in several other iterations of it on various boats since 2006.

One of our challenges for 2014 will be commemorating the 25th edition of the event. It’s seen major change since Steve Black left the helm in 2011, but we think we’ve done a good job of keeping it’s spirit intact. 2013 saw the event move to Portsmouth, Virginia, where we received an extremely warm welcome from the local community and our new hosts at Ocean Marine Yacht Center. And then suddenly something happened that will make the 25th edition of the event memorable, regardless of what we plan for it.

On Monday this week, the yacht Falcon officially registered for the 1500. This would be uneventful, except that the yacht Falcon is 80 feet long and was built as a training vessel for the 2000 America’s Cup. In full carbon fiber. Quite quickly, Monday became one of the most exciting days that I’ve had as event manager for the 1500, and a pretty good start to 2014.

What follows is a brief blurb from the owner with some details of the boat and what he plans on doing with it – and how you can go sailing with him:

“Falcon is an eighty foot carbon fiber maxi racing yacht originally designed to train a crew for the 2000 Americas Cup. Starting this year she will have a new life as a training vessel. Falcon will be used for youth safety at sea programs, corporate and family team building, and now in conjunction with the World Cruising Club, she will sail in the 2014 ARC Caribbean 1500. Falcon will offer an unforgettable learning experience for 10 lucky sailors. The cost of the program will include participation in the 1500 events, several days of offshore training prior to departure and a crew position on Falcon for the rally to Tortola, BVI.

Falcon has just completed a major refit including a full cruising interior. This thoroughbred race boat capable of 20 knots boat speed will now become a safe and comfortable platform to learn the art of offshore sailing. Safety at sea, sail handling, heavy weather sailing, routing, weather, navigation, and a multitude of other subjects will be discussed prior to and during the voyage.”

The captain, Cary St Onge, has a heck of a resume himself, and is quite the interesting character. He’s a circumnavigator with 45 years of racing and cruising experience. He’s done 15,000 miles singlehanded and holds a USCG 100 Ton Master license.

For those of you in the area, Cary will be giving a short presentation during the Annapolis Ocean Sailing Seminar in March (there is still limited room to sign up), and will be available all weekend to discuss crewing opportunities on Falcon.

Anyone with an interest in securing one of these crew positions should contact Cary at Falcon@Force10Sailing.com or 303-927-8489 for more information.

As for me, I’m still trying to convince the office to let me catch a ride on Falcon in the 1500 – she’s almost guaranteed to be the first boat to arrive in Tortola!

 

The Hurricane of 1939, Newport Beach

Sail Feed - Thu, 2014-03-06 14:02

This video, a gift to our local nautical museum, just got posted to YouTube.

The carnage begins about 3 minutes in, if you’re just into carnage.

It’s bizarre to watch this on the harbor I grew up on, which is usually a very mellow place, and hasn’t had a hurricane since, well, 1939. I’ve only seen waves break inside the harbor a few times in my life, namely the Swell of 1983, when The Wedge was breaking at well over twenty feet.

My dad was six years old in 1939, and he remembers it well.

Here’s what Wikipedia has to say about it:

“The 1939 California tropical storm, also called the 1939 Long Beach tropical storm, El Cordonazo, The Lash of St. Francis was a tropical cyclone that hit Southern California in September, 1939. Formerly a hurricane, it was the only tropical storm to make landfall in California in the twentieth century. The only other known tropical cyclone to directly affect California is the 1858 San Diego Hurricane, and only three other eastern Pacific tropical cyclones have caused gale-force winds in the continental United States. The tropical storm caused heavy flooding, leaving many dead, mostly at sea.”

The cost of cruising: the rest of Totem’s maintenance list

Sail Feed - Thu, 2014-03-06 07:00

The roundup of our current maintenance projects isn’t complete without a look at the work we’ve recently done. Totem is just one case, but a reasonable stand-in to consider the kind of work that a well used cruising boat goes through after five plus years in the tropics. It’s a different perspective than offered by the general rule of thumb, and that’s fine by us: we take good care of our baby.

1. Prop shaft and bearings. Looking good now, but turned out that it had a few kinks.

2. Bottom job. We won’t expect to get five years out of this one like we did the last, but we should be covered until at least South Africa now.

3. Replace through-hulls. Original (32 year old) units replaced… excellent peace of mind.

4. Haul out. Essential for #1, 2, and 3. We spent a week on the shipyard at Satun and had a great experience.

5. New holding tank. Now here’s something that you REALLY don’t want to have fail catastrophically! Better to do it before it’s an absolute necessity. Ours showed signs, so it was replaced.

6. Foredeck sun cover. Not pretty, but great for keeping cool. Covering the foredeck has made a big difference in comfort in the tropics, lowering temps for the kids’ cabins at the forward end of Totem. Unfortunately it cost me the one spot on deck that was big enough for a yoga mat. Oh well, small sacrifices!

7. Service alternator. Aside from being a routine job, we’ve had to rely on our engine for power many times in the last few months, as the local weather around the equator has been less cooperative than you’d think (cloud cover from squally days, and generally not enough wind to make the turbine very productive)- so having the alternator in good working order is especially important

8. New dinghy. Our Avon dinghy was 19 years old. We really can’t ask for more than that! The hypalon became so thin that it was popping new leaks daily. We got a good price on a slightly smaller aluminum bottom hypalon dink in Phuket, and it joins the fleet at left of mother ship, kayak, and… I think that’s a fishing cooler converted into an sailing outrigger. Meanwhile, we sold our never-used spare dinghy to defray the cost. Better yet, because the hull of our old dinghy still had plenty of integrity, the company we bought our dinghy from took it to refurbish it and give it to a local sailing school that had lost their tender in a recent storm. Win/win/win!

Coupled with the work we plan to do in the coming months, this puts our maintenance costs at somewhere over $25,000. It sounds daunting to budget cruisers like us, but compared to the “rule of thumb,” we’re feeling pretty good about it.

Previously:

Cruising costs, routine maintenance, and the 10% (15%, 20%) rule The cost of cruising: Totem’s maintenance list (part 1)


Well maintained readers know we love it when you read this on the Sailfeed website.

Classics, Modern and Un-

Sail Feed - Thu, 2014-03-06 01:53

By Kimball Livingston Posted March 5, 2014

Let’s talk classics, sailable and wearable.

In my book, there are two true classic fiberglass boats, the Hinckley Bermuda 40 and the Cal 40.

The Hinckley is the traditionalist, beautifully recalling the allure of the wooden boats that came before.

The Cal 40 was, in its moment, a bold leap forward, a disruptive surfin’ machine.

Both of these 1960s boats please the eye. Both please the hand.

Also in my book, there are two classic sunglass styles, Ray-Ban’s Aviator and Kaenon’s Kore, likewise worlds apart.

Aviators have made a comeback, big time. The “most” classic retails at $145.

The comeback of the Aviator style follows a onetime loss of market share to the new wave of sports eyeware—much more practical for the active user—as embodied by the Kaenon line.

Wouldn’t want to live without either.

Kaenon today has a full boat of offerings, but I noticed that speed skater Denny Morrison showed at Sochi with his Kores ($214), the first model Kaenon released—in 2001—and still going strong. Dare I say, instant classic?

In fact . . .

Once upon a time, Kaenon Kores had such a hold on pro sailors that you would see just about nothing on pro-sailed boats but the silver-framed Kaenon Kore. It was easier to count the pros without silver Kores than the ones with.

Founded by sailors, dedicated to sun-protection for all sports, predicated upon researching the extra mile and going the extra mile, Kaenon launched huge in the sailing world. Having company principals who were known quantities in sailing helped, but they’ve expanded “a bit” beyond that as you can see at Kaenon.com. It’s kit that works.

To stay relevant, Kaenon of course has brought out new product lines, some of which represent new technology, and some of which are “just” fashion incorporating said technology. But, frankly, I don’t know anyone in my sailing world who doesn’t put Kaenon first in the gene pool.

I had a bit of fun back in the day, with the 2007 America’s Cup under way in Spain and my discovery that I could not replace my lost silver-frame Kores. Black frames, yes. Silver, no. As I learned, pro sailors are one thing, and “the market” is something else, and the market just did not support the production of those silver frames. I well recall the dismay registered on one friend’s face when I shared the news. Then came this advertising note from Kaenon:

“It’s a question of style. Terry Hutchinson chooses the original, the tried and true Kore. Our original award-winning design. Straight-up performance. Brad Butterworth is going new-school with the new Hard Kore. A bit more attitude, a bit more style. An evolution that compliments the ever so clever and sophisticated Butterworth. Two different styles…one common theme.”

But, what was Terry Hutchinson actually wearing?   The no-longer-available silver frames.

So now I know. I should never have worn mine. I should have hoarded, maybe eventually sold on eBay. They weren’t silver. They were gold.

Classics, Modern and Un-

Sail Feed - Thu, 2014-03-06 01:53

By Kimball Livingston Posted March 5, 2014

Let’s talk classics, sailable and wearable.

In my book, there are two true classic fiberglass boats, the Hinckley Bermuda 40 and the Cal 40.

The Hinckley is the traditionalist, beautifully recalling the allure of the wooden boats that came before.

The Cal 40 was, in its moment, a bold leap forward, a disruptive surfin’ machine.

Both of these 1960s boats please the eye. Both please the hand.

Also in my book, there are two classic sunglass styles, Ray-Ban’s Aviator and Kaenon’s Kore, likewise worlds apart.

Aviators have made a comeback, big time. The “most” classic retails at $145.

The comeback of the Aviator style follows a onetime loss of market share to the new wave of sports eyeware—much more practical for the active user—as embodied by the Kaenon line.

Wouldn’t want to live without either.

Kaenon today has a full boat of offerings, but I noticed that speed skater Denny Morrison showed at Sochi with his Kores ($214), the first model Kaenon released—in 2001—and still going strong. Dare I say, instant classic?

In fact . . .

Once upon a time, Kaenon Kores had such a hold on pro sailors that you would see just about nothing on pro-sailed boats but the silver-framed Kaenon Kore. It was easier to count the pros without silver Kores than the ones with.

Founded by sailors, dedicated to sun-protection for all sports, predicated upon researching the extra mile and going the extra mile, Kaenon launched huge in the sailing world. Having company principals who were known quantities in sailing helped, but they’ve expanded “a bit” beyond that as you can see at Kaenon.com. It’s kit that works.

To stay relevant, Kaenon of course has brought out new product lines, some of which represent new technology, and some of which are “just” fashion incorporating said technology. But, frankly, I don’t know anyone in my sailing world who doesn’t put Kaenon first in the gene pool.

I had a bit of fun back in the day, with the 2007 America’s Cup under way in Spain and my discovery that I could not replace my lost silver-frame Kores. Black frames, yes. Silver, no. As I learned, pro sailors are one thing, and “the market” is something else, and the market just did not support the production of those silver frames. I well recall the dismay registered on one friend’s face when I shared the news. Then came this advertising note from Kaenon:

“It’s a question of style. Terry Hutchinson chooses the original, the tried and true Kore. Our original award-winning design. Straight-up performance. Brad Butterworth is going new-school with the new Hard Kore. A bit more attitude, a bit more style. An evolution that compliments the ever so clever and sophisticated Butterworth. Two different styles…one common theme.”

But, what was Terry Hutchinson actually wearing?   The no-longer-available silver frames.

So now I know. I should never have worn mine. I should have hoarded, maybe eventually sold on eBay. They weren’t silver. They were gold.

What’s the Most Polluted Harbor in America?

Sail Feed - Wed, 2014-03-05 20:44

Posted March 5, 2014 by Kimball Livingston

Polluted? Surely not Marina del Rey.

But, out of tests performed in ten harbors in America, on the day of the Rozalia Project’s testing in Marina del Rey, that spiffy enclave four miles north of LAX, and just south of hot, hot, hot Venice Beach, rang the bell as the most polluted harbor in America.

We’ll have to add qualifiers, so don’t stop reading here. But if you care about Marina del Rey, you need to know.

Source: visitmarinadelrey.com

Because, yes, we’re talking about the Marina del Rey that was created in the days when any car worth having sported tailfins to the stars. Home over the years to the yachts of the stars. Also the nation’s largest man-made pleasure-boat harbor with more than 4,000 slips, according to the Los Angeles Times, or, according to MarinaDelRey.com, home to “more than 6,000 recreational boat slips, the highest density of restaurant seating in a one-square-mile area outside of New York City, and boat launching ramps that provide access to over 100,000 trailer-class boats annually.”

In its best moments, it’s just lovely.

The nonprofit Rozalia Project has devoted recent years to testing waterways on the Atlantic and Pacific coasts, trawling with a standardized, replicable system and then counting what’s there besides water. Plastic, for example. Plastic, especially. They’re not analyzing toxicity; they’re measuring a volume of trash, including tiny trash. (Including even the tiny-tiny-tiny beads of plastic used in many of the facial exfoliants on the market. Those exfoliant beads go down the drain, and then they go guess where.)

Rozalia Project director Rachael Miller reports that the team’s tows in Marina del Rey “produced a count of 282,000 pieces of trash per square kilometer. That’s an incredible amount. Even our tows on the East River didn’t match that.”

Tows near Point Loma, in San Diego Bay, produced a count of 21,000 pieces of trash per square kilometer, less than ten percent of the count on test day in Marina del Rey.

Miller is quick to add that these were date-specific surveys. The Rozalia Project isn’t big enough, yet, to run long-term, robust studies all across the country. Samplings have not been made exhaustively in Marina del Rey, or San Diego, or the East River. “I’m confident of the data that we have,” Miller says, “but we can’t extrapolate from one or two days of towing in any given harbor to say that Marina del Rey always has the most particulate pollution.”

Got it. But that alarm bell is ringing.

The test date for Marina del Rey was November 13, 2012, and you might wonder why data from 2012 is “news” in 2014. Simply because numbers mean little without comparisons. I had my first contact with the Rozalia Project much more recently, when I rode along on tows in San Francisco Bay. I was naturally interested in how my hometown harbor fit in. The conversation led to this comparison of sampling results that have taken several years to accumulate. The per-tow numbers often varied widely. Here are harbor averages:

1. Los Angeles – Marina del Rey: 282,000 pieces of trash per km²
2. Port of LA/Long Beach: 88,000 pieces of trash per km²
3. Philadelphia – Delaware River: 83,555 pieces of trash per km²
4. New York Harbor: 74,000 pieces of trash per km²
5. Boston – inner harbor: 58,557 pieces of trash per km²
6. San Francisco Bay: 23,818 pieces of trash per km²
7. San Diego – near Point Loma: 21,000 pieces of trash per km²
8. Seattle – Lake Washington: 14,000 pieces of trash per km²
9. Chicago – inside breakwater: 8,500 pieces of trash per km²
10. Vancouver – off Jericho: 3,500 pieces of trash per km²

What’s in the water. Source: rozaliaproject.org

About the results for Marina del Rey, Miller says, “The good news is, we believe we’ve found the culprit. “It’s an action item. The fix is affordable.”

Affordable, because if Miller is correct about the source of Marina del Rey’s spike in plastic, the fix is already built in to capital expenditures—if someone is on the ball.

The test-day photographs seem to indicate that, at the time of testing, elements of one or more of Marina del Rey’s floating docks had deteriorated. The shell(s) encasing foam flotation had broken and was (were) spilling plastic foam at a prodigious rate. That particular type of foam is formed from tiny spheres, and as it breaks up, here comes the spike in your plastic pollution. “Without that plastic from failing dock flotation,” Miller says, “Marina del Rey would be looking OK, or at least no worse than most other harbors.

“To fix this, you wouldn’t have to go in and replace every floating dock. Instead, you could take action as one docks ages and needs to be replaced. There are other kinds of foam flotation you could use, and they don’t break up in this destructive way.”

Your reporter had an extended exchange of phone calls and emails with a spokesperson at the Los Angeles County Department of Beaches and Harbors, which administers the land and water rights of Marina del Rey on behalf of the City of Los Angeles and leases waterfront land to private lease holders in long-term agreements.

In our exchanges, we shared the Rozalia Project’s test methods and results and comparisons to other harbors. There was a concern on the part of Beaches and Harbors that the sampling might have occurred in the wake of a rainstorm, which washes detritus from a swath of LA down to the beach. My search of NOAA records did not support this, nor did the records of the Rozalia Project, which tracks weather as a factor in data collection. Ultimately, the Department released the following statement. I don’t blame them for hedging a bit, and, frankly, this sounds reasonable:

“The Department of Beaches and Harbors is committed to working with the boating community and other stakeholders to provide the cleanest harbor possible. Tests of a single water sample taken from one location in the largest recreational marina in the United States cannot paint a full picture of the day-to-day water quality of the Marina, especially when the sample is taken after an early season rain event, when landside run-off often flows into the Marina. The plastic pellets used in floating docks are confined to boxes that should prevent their escape into the harbor. But if the micro-plastics can be traced to materials from debilitated floating docks, the Department would be willing to explore the use of alternative docks that contain no such materials and would certainly seek to address any other identifiable sources of such pollution.”

The graph below was published by weatherspark.com as a historical record of 2012 precipitation at LAX. I note what appears to be a spike just after mid-November (some days after testing) and even then, close reading reveals an amount of precipitation of less than one quarter of an inch. I don’t think we can ascribe Rozalia’s results to runoff.

So—

We kicked off with the provocative question, what’s the most polluted harbor in America? By now, you know that we don’t have the answer. But if people who keep boats in Marina del Rey, and people who operate harbors in Marina del Rey, and the well-intentioned officials who administer Marina del Rey, all pay attention going forward—and if indeed dock flotation is verified as a pollution source—there you have one nasty problem that can be resolved as low-hanging fruit.

Re-spec’d dock flotation would be a noncontroversial and easier and cheaper problem to solve than the toxicity issues surrounding bottom paint, which Los Angeles is already trying to address. The bottom paint story has moved beyond what I am posting here, but it launched with the following notice:

ATTENTION BOATERS! Public Meeting on TMDL Proposal – February 6, 2014, 9:00 a.m. – The County has submitted comments to the L.A. Regional Water Quality Control Board (Regional Board) on the proposed changes to the Marina del Rey TMDL. Next, the Regional Board will hold a public meeting on February 6, 2014 to discuss the proposed changes to the TMDL, which would require that 85% of boats moored in Marina del Rey have their hulls repainted with non-copper based paints by 2024. This would most likely require full stripping of a boat’s hull as well as more frequent in-water hull cleaning and repainting.

Now, that sounds expensive, and it produced the predictable blowback.

WHY DOES PLASTIC MATTER?

Most of us have heard of the “Pacific Garbage Patch,” which is not at all the floating island of garbage once touted, but it’s actually more sinister. As with oceans elsewhere, the Pacific has a current flow around a central gyre where garbage collects. Scripps oceanographers, among others who have done on-site research, report that you can go there and see little in the water, but if you troll and assess, you discover that the water teems with tiny residue of plastic bits.

The brightest bits are taken for food by seabirds, accounting for dieoffs on Midway, for example, while others continually degrade into smaller and smaller plastic bits that work their way into the food chain.

And that plastic did not arrive mid-ocean by being thrown overboard from boats in mid-ocean. It came almost entirely from shoreside sources, carried on the wind, carried on the currents, abandoned to gradually turn into a new form of poison. I think the science on that is solid, and anything that can be done to reduce plastic pollution counts.

There’s a sign near Howlands Landing, Catalina Island: When you throw something away, where is “away” ?

THE PREMISE OF THE ROZALIA PROJECT is that, yes, the deep oceans are infused with tiny bits of degraded plastic which we expect will cause long term harm as they join the food chain. But there is no likely way to go out to the collection points, the gyres, and clean things up. And that plastic got there by washing out of rivers and streams and blowing off beaches and drifting with the currents. So the accessible intervention is close to home:

Keep bad stuff out of the water.

Education is part of it. So is knowing what we’re up against, which means taking measurements.

Rozalia’s measurement system employs a Neuston net, a hard-frame device developed by ocean scientists in the 1960s, originally for the purpose of capturing and studying neuston—marine life dwelling at or near the surface.

To capture pollution, the Rozalia Project’s net is towed from a boom extended outside the boat to undisturbed water, in this case beyond the bow wake of a boat traveling a standardized distance at a standardized speed. Rozalia’s tows run one quarter of a kilometer in a straight line. Trash per square kilometer data is extrapolated from multiple tows.

– Midway photo © Chris Jordan -

Probably, the Rozalia Project tows happened to coincide with a breakup of floating foam beneath identifiable floating piers. And then, all that plastic had to go somewhere, and there was only the water. If that actually was the process, you have to expect that there is a next pier in line, and a next.

To learn more about the Rozalia Project’s outreach programs and their collection of underwater debris using robotic machinery, visit Rozalia Project.

Below, we see a Newston tow in progress on San Francisco Bay. The vessel is the Derek M. Baylis, conceived and designed by Tom Wylie for conservation work and education. The Baylis has been on the case for years now, working much of the time on Monterey Bay. Here is what SeaLifeConservation.org has to say about the Baylis:

“The vessel was named after a man who was a mentor to the designers [and others, and father to three famous sailors: KL] and contributed his expertise to several marine institutions in the Monterey Bay area. The vessel has a rear deck like a trawler, living quarters crafted in a modern yacht style, and uses wind as its primary fuel. The Baylis was specifically designed and constructed to provide a comfortable, fast and eco-friendly vessel for research and education. The Baylis can be operated quietly, economically and emit zero pollution, making DMB specially suited for non-obtrusive monitoring. We carry up to 24 passengers comfortably on day trips, and 10 passengers on more extended voyages. The large cargo capacity, removable transom, stern-mounted titanium A-frame, and 22-foot long aft deck facilitate easy deployment of a wide range of gear.”

Photo KL

What’s the Most Polluted Harbor in America?

Sail Feed - Wed, 2014-03-05 20:44

Posted March 5, 2014 by Kimball Livingston

Polluted? Surely not Marina del Rey.

But, out of tests performed in ten harbors in America, on the day of the Rozalia Project’s testing in Marina del Rey, that spiffy enclave four miles north of LAX, and just south of hot, hot, hot Venice Beach, rang the bell as the most polluted harbor in America.

We’ll have to add qualifiers, so don’t stop reading here. But if you care about Marina del Rey, you need to know.

Source: visitmarinadelrey.com

Because, yes, we’re talking about the Marina del Rey that was created in the days when any car worth having sported tailfins to the stars. Home over the years to the yachts of the stars. Also the nation’s largest man-made pleasure-boat harbor with more than 4,000 slips, according to the Los Angeles Times, or, according to MarinaDelRey.com, home to “more than 6,000 recreational boat slips, the highest density of restaurant seating in a one-square-mile area outside of New York City, and boat launching ramps that provide access to over 100,000 trailer-class boats annually.”

In its best moments, it’s just lovely.

The nonprofit Rozalia Project has devoted recent years to testing waterways on the Atlantic and Pacific coasts, trawling with a standardized, replicable system and then counting what’s there besides water. Plastic, for example. Plastic, especially. They’re not analyzing toxicity; they’re measuring a volume of trash, including tiny trash. (Including even the tiny-tiny-tiny beads of plastic used in many of the facial exfoliants on the market. Those exfoliant beads go down the drain, and then they go guess where.)

Rozalia Project director Rachael Miller reports that the team’s tows in Marina del Rey “produced a count of 282,000 pieces of trash per square kilometer. That’s an incredible amount. Even our tows on the East River didn’t match that.”

Tows near Point Loma, in San Diego Bay, produced a count of 21,000 pieces of trash per square kilometer, less than ten percent of the count on test day in Marina del Rey.

Miller is quick to add that these were date-specific surveys. The Rozalia Project isn’t big enough to run long-term, robust studies all across the country. Samplings have not been made exhaustively in Marina del Rey, or San Diego, or the East River. “I’m confident of the data that we have,” Miller says, “but we can’t extrapolate from one or two days of towing in any given harbor to say that Marina del Rey always has the most particulate pollution.”

Got it. But that alarm bell is ringing.

The test date for Marina del Rey was November 13, 2012, and you might wonder why data from 2012 is “news” in 2014. Simply because numbers mean little without comparisons. I had my first contact with the Rozalia Project much more recently, when I rode along on tows in San Francisco Bay. I was naturally interested in how my hometown harbor fit in. The conversation led to this comparison of sampling results that have taken several years to accumulate:

1. Los Angeles – Marina del Rey: 282,000 pieces of trash per km²
2. Port of LA/Long Beach: 88,000 pieces of trash per km²
3. Philadelphia – Delaware River: 83,555 pieces of trash per km²
4. New York Harbor: 74,000 pieces of trash per km²
5. Boston – inner harbor: 58,557 pieces of trash per km²
6. San Francisco Bay: 23,818 pieces of trash per km²
7. San Diego – near Point Loma: 21,000 pieces of trash per km²
8. Seattle – Lake Washington: 14,000 pieces of trash per km²
9. Chicago – inside breakwater: 8,500 pieces of trash per km²
10. Vancouver – off Jericho: 3,500 pieces of trash per km²

What’s in the water. Source: rozaliaproject.org

About the results for Marina del Rey, Miller says, “The good news is, we believe we’ve found the culprit. “It’s an action item. The fix is affordable.”

Affordable, because if Miller is correct about the source of Marina del Rey’s spike in plastic, the fix is already built in to capital expenditures—if someone is on the ball.

The test-day photographs seem to indicate that, at the time of testing, elements of one or more of Marina del Rey’s floating docks had deteriorated. The shell(s) encasing foam flotation had broken and was (were) spilling plastic foam at a prodigious rate. That particular type of foam is formed from tiny spheres, and as it breaks up, here comes the spike in your plastic pollution. “Without that plastic from failing dock flotation,” Miller says, “Marina del Rey would be looking OK, or at least no worse than most other harbors.

“To fix this, you wouldn’t have to go in and replace every floating dock. Instead, you could take action as one docks ages and needs to be replaced. There are other kinds of foam flotation you could use, and they don’t break up in this destructive way.”

Your reporter had an extended exchange of phone calls and emails with a spokesperson at the Los Angeles County Department of Beaches and Harbors, which administers the land and water rights of Marina del Rey on behalf of the City of Los Angeles and leases waterfront land to private lease holders in long-term agreements.

In our exchanges, we shared the Rozalia Project’s test methods and results, and comparisons to other harbors. There was a concern on the part of Beaches and Harbors that the sampling might have occurred in the wake of a rainstorm, which washes detritus from a swath of LA down to the beach. My search of NOAA records did not support this. Ultimately, the Department released the following statement. I don’t blame them for hedging a bit, and, frankly, this sounds reasonable:

“The Department of Beaches and Harbors is committed to working with the boating community and other stakeholders to provide the cleanest harbor possible. Tests of a single water sample taken from one location in the largest recreational marina in the United States cannot paint a full picture of the day-to-day water quality of the Marina, especially when the sample is taken after an early season rain event, when landside run-off often flows into the Marina. The plastic pellets used in floating docks are confined to boxes that should prevent their escape into the harbor. But if the micro-plastics can be traced to materials from debilitated floating docks, the Department would be willing to explore the use of alternative docks that contain no such materials and would certainly seek to address any other identifiable sources of such pollution.”

The graph below was published by weatherspark.com as a historical record of 2012 precipitation at LAX. I note what appears to be a spike just after mid-November (some days after testing) and even then, close reading reveals an amount of precipitation of less than one quarter of an inch. I don’t think we can ascribe Rozalia’s results to runoff.

So—

We kicked off with the provocative question, what’s the most polluted harbor in America? By now, you know that we don’t have the answer. But if people who keep boats in Marina del Rey, and people who operate harbors in Marina del Rey, and the well-intentioned officials who administer Marina del Rey, all pay attention going forward—and if indeed dock flotation is verified as a pollution source—there you have one nasty problem that can be resolved as low-hanging fruit.

Re-spec’d dock flotation would be a noncontroversial and easier and cheaper problem to solve than the toxicity issues surrounding bottom paint, which Los Angeles is already trying to address. The bottom paint story has moved beyond what I am posting here, but it launched with the following notice:

ATTENTION BOATERS! Public Meeting on TMDL Proposal – February 6, 2014, 9:00 a.m. – The County has submitted comments to the L.A. Regional Water Quality Control Board (Regional Board) on the proposed changes to the Marina del Rey TMDL. Next, the Regional Board will hold a public meeting on February 6, 2014 to discuss the proposed changes to the TMDL, which would require that 85% of boats moored in Marina del Rey have their hulls repainted with non-copper based paints by 2024. This would most likely require full stripping of a boat’s hull as well as more frequent in-water hull cleaning and repainting.

Now, that sounds expensive, and it produced the predictable blowback.

WHY DOES PLASTIC MATTER?

Most of us have heard of the “Pacific Garbage Patch,” which is not at all the floating island of garbage once touted, but it’s actually more sinister. As with oceans elsewhere, the Pacific has a current flow around a central gyre where garbage collects. Scripps oceanographers, among others who have done on-site research, report that you can go there and see little in the water, but if you troll and assess, you discover that the water teems with tiny residue of plastic bits.

The brightest bits are taken for food by seabirds, accounting for dieoffs on Midway, for example, while others continually degrade into smaller and smaller plastic bits that work their way into the food chain.

And that plastic did not arrive mid-ocean by being thrown overboard from boats in mid-ocean. It came almost entirely from shoreside sources, carried on the wind, carried on the currents, abandoned to gradually turn into a new form of poison. I think the science on that is solid, and anything that can be done to reduce plastic pollution counts.

There’s a sign near Howlands Landing, Catalina Island: When you throw something away, where is “away” ?

THE PREMISE OF THE ROZALIA PROJECT is that, yes, the deep oceans are infused with tiny bits of degraded plastic which we expect will cause long term harm as they join the food chain. But there is no likely way to go out to the collection points, the gyres, and clean things up. And that plastic got there by washing out of rivers and streams and blowing off beaches and drifting with the currents. So the accessible intervention is close to home:

Keep bad stuff out of the water.

Education is part of it. So is knowing what we’re up against, which means taking measurements.

Rozalia’s measurement system employs a Neuston net, a hard-frame device developed by ocean scientists in the 1960s, originally for the purpose of capturing and studying neuston—marine life dwelling at or near the surface.

To capture pollution, the Rozalia Project’s net is towed from a boom extended outside the boat to undisturbed water, in this case beyond the bow wake of a boat traveling a standardized distance at a standardized speed. Rozalia’s tows run one quarter of a kilometer in a straight line. Trash per square kilometer data is extrapolated from multiple tows.

– Midway photo © Chris Jordan -

Probably, the Rozalia Project tows happened to coincide with a breakup of floating foam beneath identifiable floating piers. And then, all that plastic had to go somewhere, and there was only the water. If that actually was the process, you have to expect that there is a next pier in line, and a next.

To learn more about the Rozalia Project’s outreach programs and their collection of underwater debris using robotic machinery, visit Rozalia Project.

Below, we see a Newston tow in progress on San Francisco Bay. The vessel is the Derek M. Baylis, conceived and designed by Tom Wylie for conservation work and education. The Baylis has been on the case for years now, working much of the time on Monterey Bay. Here is what SeaLifeConservation.org has to say about the Baylis:

“The vessel was named after a man who was a mentor to the designers [and others, and father to three famous sailors: KL] and contributed his expertise to several marine institutions in the Monterey Bay area. The vessel has a rear deck like a trawler, living quarters crafted in a modern yacht style, and uses wind as its primary fuel. The Baylis was specifically designed and constructed to provide a comfortable, fast and eco-friendly vessel for research and education. The Baylis can be operated quietly, economically and emit zero pollution, making DMB specially suited for non-obtrusive monitoring. We carry up to 24 passengers comfortably on day trips, and 10 passengers on more extended voyages. The large cargo capacity, removable transom, stern-mounted titanium A-frame, and 22-foot long aft deck facilitate easy deployment of a wide range of gear.”

Photo KL

Grael Leads Bacardi Cup

Sail Feed - Wed, 2014-03-05 20:42

A win on Wednesday keeps Lars Grael in the lead for the 87th Star Class Bacardi Cup, part of Miami Sailing Week. Grael and crew Samuel Golzalves have been solid, with finishes of 2-2-1 in one of the toughest assemblages you can imagine. The two-time Olympic medalist in the Tornado catamaran called Wednesday’s racing “very tactical . . . it was a gybe war.”

Grael and Gonzalves moved to the top of the overall standings in the 55-boat fleet on Tuesday. Their 2-2-1 scoreline, for five points, gives them a five-point cushion over San Diego’s Mark Reynolds and Miami’s Magnus Liljedahl.

The fifth annual running of BACARDI Miami Sailing Week (BMSW) presented by EFG runs through March 8. As of Thursday, Melges 20s, Melges 24s, Viper 640s, and VX One classes join the Stars on Biscayne Bay.

Grael Leads Bacardi Cup

Sail Feed - Wed, 2014-03-05 20:42

A win on Wednesday keeps Lars Grael in the lead for the 87th Star Class Bacardi Cup, part of Miami Sailing Week. Grael and crew Samuel Golzalves have been solid, with finishes of 2-2-1 in one of the toughest assemblages you can imagine. The two-time Olympic medalist in the Tornado catamaran called Wednesday’s racing “very tactical . . . it was a gybe war.”

Grael and Gonzalves moved to the top of the overall standings in the 55-boat fleet on Tuesday. Their 2-2-1 scoreline, for five points, gives them a five-point cushion over San Diego’s Mark Reynolds and Miami’s Magnus Liljedahl.

The fifth annual running of BACARDI Miami Sailing Week (BMSW) presented by EFG runs through March 8. As of Thursday, Melges 20s, Melges 24s, Viper 640s, and VX One classes join the Stars on Biscayne Bay.

Rockin’ the Giltinan

Sail Feed - Wed, 2014-03-05 20:32

Slightly launched is sorta like slightly pregnant?

TheJJ Giltinan Trophy, aka the 18-foot skiff world championship, is never less than a visual treat. Crossing the midpoint of the seven race series on Sydney Harbour, The Gotta Love It 7 team of Seve Jarvin, Sam Newton and Scott Babbage have recovered the lead they held early on—and they had to dig out from the depths to make it happen.

Gotta Love It 7 took the lead on the second windward leg of race four and finished more than a minute and a half ahead of Chris Nicholson, Mike McKensey and Ricky Bridgein Mojo Wine.

There are two teams from the USA in a fleet of 34, both running in the twenties after three races: Past winners Howie Hamlin and Mike Martin, with a new third, Nick Catley; also Skip and Jody McCormack with Joe Penrod.

Source: 18footers.com

Rockin’ the Giltinan

Sail Feed - Wed, 2014-03-05 20:32

Slightly launched is sorta like slightly pregnant?

TheJJ Giltinan Trophy, aka the 18-foot skiff world championship, is never less than a visual treat. Crossing the midpoint of the seven race series on Sydney Harbour, The Gotta Love It 7 team of Seve Jarvin, Sam Newton and Scott Babbage have recovered the lead they held early on—and they had to dig out from the depths to make it happen.

Gotta Love It 7 took the lead on the second windward leg of race four and finished more than a minute and a half ahead of Chris Nicholson, Mike McKensey and Ricky Bridgein Mojo Wine.

There are two teams from the USA in a fleet of 34, both running in the twenties after three races: Past winners Howie Hamlin and Mike Martin, with a new third, Nick Catley; also Skip and Jody McCormack with Joe Penrod.

Source: 18footers.com

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