Life Aboard

Peoples Reactions to our Planned Trip

When people find out that we are planning to sail to the Caribbean, we are faced with some repeat questions. These questions are different from the common questions we are asked when people learn that we liveaboard. Liveaboard questions are merely routine for us as we have been doing it for years and consider all the unknowns they could as as ordinary parts of everyday life.

Liveaboard questions tend to be:

How do you get to your car?
What do you do when it rains?
Are you cold during the winter?
What if there is flooding, are you worried about your boat sinking?

These questions are all too common for us and we have carefully prepared answers for them:

Walk down the pier to the car.
Go inside and keep dry.
No, we turn on the heat.
We float. (this one is one of my personal favorites)

Our planned trip is just that, a plan. We have not done it before, so we don't have definitive answers based on years of experience. Instead, we have thoughts formed from reading books and talking with other sailors. There are a lot of unknowns involved with this trip and we don't have all the answers. 

I have taken to playing the role of the happy go lucky fool when I get asked the same questions, because it makes the conversation proceed quicker and easier. They either think I am kidding or that I am going to die and there is no helping the helpless, so they change the subject. I would rather get on to another subject as I grow tired of the same doubtful questions. 

Aren't you scared about a storm out in the ocean?
What if a hurricane comes?
What if a sea monster eats your boat?

What if you get sick?
What if you get lost?
Aren't you afraid of pirates?

Storms are a concern, which is why we have practiced heaving-to. We also carry a parachute anchor to set in addition to heaving-to to help steady the ship as we ride out the storm in the protection of the slick. We haven't tested this out on the high seas, but we have had some horrible squalls in the Chesapeake Bay and other storms close to the Atlantic Coast. We know how to manage storms, and we know how to stay safe, but we have always been close to land. We do have a slight uneasy feeling in our stomach when we think about setting off to distant lands and getting hit by a storm in the night hundreds of miles from shore where no one can assist us should something catastrophic happen.

Hurricanes are a concern, they are incredibly powerful and their paths can change in an instant. When we are far offshore, we won't have the best of weather updates and a hurricane could theoretically slip through our weather forecast electronics. The reason I am not as concerned is hurricanes send a large swell out into the ocean radiating away from its center. By noticing this swell, we can begin to monitor the weather and figure out where the center of the storm is and what its route is. With this knowledge, we can plot a course away from the storm and into safer water. Worst case scenario, heave-to with the parachute anchor and ride out the hurricane. By choosing our cruising course carefully, we hope to avoid hurricanes and negate the issue all together.

"Sea monsters" always makes me chuckle. Whales on the other hand are not as funny. Running into a sleeping whale is an actual concern. The collision would not cause that much damage to our full keel sailboat, but it could piss off the whale that just got struck by 17 tons of boat! Angered whales can retaliate and sink a sailboat if they are in the mood and there is little you can do to stop them. In most cases, the whale will simply swim off and leave you be; with both parties a little shaken up from the whole ordeal.

Sickness at sea is a concern. We can get injured and there is no hospital to run to. If we are a week from shore, that means we are a week from any medical care. I am a dentist (and not a physician) so I can do minor procedures such as debride a wound or suture a laceration, but I can't take out an appendix! Being a dentist does make me well versed in dealing with infections and surgical procedures, but working on a moving vessel with bad lighting doesn't make me a skilled surgeon. Our first line of defense against sickness is to avoid injury in the first place. By playing it safe, we stay healthy and well. Keeping up on our sleep and eating well will keep us well nourished and strong, warding off the illnesses that come from malnutrition and stress.

Getting lost is a very real problem at sea where there is no landmarks in sight. We have paper charts, we have electronic charts, we have three GPS units, we have a compass, and we have a sextant! In the worst case scenario where the sextant falls overboard, all the GPS units die, the compass breaks, and we loose all our charts; we still have one trick up our sleeve: the sun rises in the east and sets in the west. If we lost everything and had no clue where we were, we could simply sail west to return to the Americas. This may sound over simplified, but if we are lost in the Atlantic, the Americas are to the West and Europe/Africa is to the East. Should I find myself in total confusion, I would personally rather make landfall on my home continent. As far fetched as this scenario may sound, people actually ask me what I would do if everything failed. The truth is, we take care of the sextant and the compass is mounted to the binnacle. Using these two instruments, we can plot our position and find our way through the ocean. Knowing how to use the world around you to navigate is a very important skill. It goes much further than knowing how to read a map or looking at your electronics. Navigation is just that, navigating. It is a process that requires practice to hone your skills and find your way through. 

Piracy is an issue, but not as big as you might think it is. There are no pirates on the high seas that are boarding sailboats in the middle of the ocean. Pirates are interested in large cargo ships that carry a lot of valuables. Sailboats tend to be filled with poor cruisers. Old sailboats tend to be filled with poorer cruisers. Our sailboat is from 1968 and looks nothing like the sleek yachts of the global elite. Piracy around islands tends to involve theft of your belongings, particularly your inflatable dinghy and outboard motor. We don't have an inflatable, or an outboard; instead we have an undesirable wooden row boat. As far as being boarded, we feel strongly in choosing where to anchor based on current crime reports and talking with other cruisers about which islands to visit and which harbors to avoid.

In short, we don't have the experience under out belts like we do with living aboard and coastal cruising, but we do have the drive and the desire to go the distance. It just feels frustrating that every person we meet questions us and wants us to prove to them that we are capable seamen, even though the people who are judging our capabilities have never been sailing nor have any idea what we actually need to know. We are literally trying to impress blind people with pretty colors, they can never see what we are showing yet they will judge us harshly and cast a verdict without remorse.

The conversation usually ends with an uplifting: "Just don't die."

After the first go about with this conversation, you brush it off. After the tenth, you begin to question peoples intentions in asking. After the fiftieth, you begin to question yourself. After you question yourself, you then realize that you are ready and you are prepared. Why even entertain these questions? 

Cutting the Transom

The transom of our dinghy has fully cured and was then planed smooth. Now it is time to cut it to its final shape and attach it to the dinghy.

The width of the transom at the gunwale is supposed to be 23.5 inches, and the topsides flare 1.5 inches on each side. The other known factor is the rabbet line is 1 inch below the top of the keel and the chine is located 4 inches above this point. The last known is the height of the hull is 18 inches (plus one inch for the rabbet). Taking these very crude facts into account, we are able to sketch out and design the cuts to make to produce the transom.

The whole process began by marking the selected points on the board and connecting the dots. Using a square helps ensure that the measurements are correct and not offset. You can see the many steps taken to finally narrow down the design to the finalized and ideal transom cutout.

A quick trip to the bandsaw produced a very clean cutout of our transom for the dinghy. A light sanding helped to remove any residual blue lines and to remove any fuzz that may have developed near the saw line.

When viewed from the side, the grain pattern is clearly evident. The growth rings were set in an alternating fashion, that way any distortion that occurs from swelling and contracting of the wood will not warp the entire transom. As the board swells and contracts, the opposing grain patterns will result in a net zero change in the transom's surface.

Cutting Cherry Tomatoes

Cooking on a sailboat has its added challenges. Food rolls around as your work place is not still because you are in a boat and (unless you are in a calm harbor) you are rolling with the waves. In situations like this, any help is appreciated!

If you need to cut tiny cherry tomatoes in half, any trick that saves time and effort is always welcome in a boat galley! 

Simply set the tomatoes on a small plate, then put another identically sized plate over the tomatoes. Now the tomatoes are held in place and there is a gap down the middle.

Slice through this gap with a large knife (taking care not to cut your hand) and all your tomatoes will be cut in one motion!

I recommend doing this over the sink so that any tomato juice that comes out doesn't make a mess. This trick can make the chore of cutting cherry tomatoes into a quick step in the cooking process.

Fastening the Stern Post

While the stem was rather complicated to attach, the stern post was the exact opposite! The stern post was glued and screwed to the stern knee a while ago and allowed to cure, now it is time to attach it to the keel.

The stern knee is fastened with a single silicon bronze lag bolt driven into the keel. Wood glue was attached to the faying surface of the stern knee and the excess squeezed out as the lag bolt was driven home. 

With the stem and stern post attached, we are able to finally know the length of the dinghy we are building. 7'8" is the length of our dinghy and there can be no wavering from this length as the end pieces have been attached and secured! Up to this point, the length has been fluctuating from as low as 6 feet all the way up to around 8 feet. Now that the post is attached and can not be moved, we have our final and fixed length for the dinghy.

Getting From the Boat to the Car in Winter

One of the questions we are often asked when people find out we live on a sailboat is: "How do you get to your car, especially in the winter?"

The truth is, just like everyone else does: walking.

When living aboard in a marina, the morning commute is not that complicated nor mysterious. You simply leave your boat, walk down the pier, and head to your car. I know this is kind of anticlimactic, there is no little dinghy ferrying us to shore or any need to swim; we don't even need to fight off sea monsters!

Living aboard grants you many freedoms and doesn't cause as much inconvenience as most people would have themselves believe.