My brief stint as a pirate

It has been months since I lasted posted, sorry about that. I have no excuse, I let it slip and been awful about committing to sit down and work. I am going to try and catch up in the next week. I will continue chronologically from where I left off. I wrote bits and pieces of posts at the time they happened, weeks after, and months after, so the blog may have a more collage type feeling now. Sorry if it gets repetitive. Below is a note I wrote months ago when I thought I was getting back on track, and then I hop right back into the story.

I'm awful at keeping up with this blog. It has now been over a month since I got on the sailboat and I've had many opportunities to work on this post and the others I meant to write. I do want to keep sharing my adventure especially now that I have exciting plans for the rest of the year. So after a lengthy summary of all the time I have failed to record I will start back up with slightly more regular posts. Hopefully.

Thanks for waiting around!

11/08/17 - 11/13/17

I woke up nice and early to finish preparing everything for the sailing trip. I got my bike and camping gear packed away at the Egelke's home, where they graciously offered to store it for me. I finished up all the last minute computer needs I had and sent off final emails to potential gap year contacts. I didn’t know when I would have access again. A final sweep of my attic apartment and I was ready to go.

I had packed as minimally as possible but because I didn’t really know my plans farther than four days I had to bring a decent amount of gear so I could be ready for anything. I had all my stuff packed into a large black backpack with a kind of long story. Near Olin College is a dump primarily for the wealthier neighborhood surrounding the school. Olin students take advantage of this by going there and salvaging basically anything they can find, but most commonly electronics. The Olin student who started the bike shop there, whom I befriended, had found the backpacking pack in the dump and as it was just sitting around his room he kindly lent it to me. As he passed it to me he casually mentioned to me that it looked like a day pack attached to the bigger bag but the day pack was missing. I recognized the Eagle Creek brand as I'd only ever seen it on the goodwill schoolbag I used everyday which also seemed to attach to something larger. My parents shipped me a few clothes and I asked that they send the daypack as well. It wasn’t a perfect match but the two bags were compatible so I now have a nice big backpacking pack with a detachable day pack. Added bonus to the already awesome pair was the fact that the big bag had a flap to cover the straps and it converts into a perfectly sized airplane carry on duffel. Score!

I threw my loaded combined bag into the back of Bill's pickup truck and we headed off. Bill was the crew mate that was forced to come pick me up for the drive to Newport, RI where the boat was docked. We chatted and I found out that Bill is the most versatile person I've ever met. He loves racing and has raced motocross, bicycles, race-cars and snowmobiles professionally. He is in construction so he knows how to build a house and owned a concrete business as well. He’s a mechanic so he fixes cars, bikes, boats and anything else with an engine. He line fishes, spear fishes, hunts and bow hunts. Oh, and sails of course. These are just the skills I happened to find out by asking the right questions, who knows what else Bill can do.

We had to stop by Bill's home to grab some sailing gear. We were about a mile away when he exclaimed loudly and told me we had to run back quick. He forgot he had his gun in the truck and the guy driving it back from the marina wasn’t licensed to carry. We headed back and he pulled a case out from under the seat. Inside was a revolver with a massive scope on top of it. Bill explained that it’s easier to move and hunt with the small gun. We then drove to Newport where we stopped to get subs at the place with the longest sandwich prep time I've ever experienced. Finally, without further delay, we headed to the boat.

We took off our shoes on the dock and I got my first sight of the interior. It is massive and elegant. Down the hatch and you are in a lavish sitting room. There are berths with full beds, three bathrooms, a kitchen, a master bedroom cabin and a small two cot bunk room. I was pumped. Most of the deck is canopied over so once under sail there really isn’t much necessity to go outside. And there are pillows everywhere, just so many pillows, it was great.

The evening was a blur of activity getting ready for the departure the next day. We hoisted Bill up the mast for some maintenance, made room for the pillow guy to install refurbished cushions, drove out to get a new life raft and drop off the accidentally deployed one, picked up radio parts, and packed up the food. Michael, the captain and my connection, arrived with his wife and son, who were driving the vehicles back to Boston, and we all hung out for a little bit and chatted. Eventually they left and Chris, Michael’s first cousin once removed, arrived from Oregon. That made all of us: me, Michael, Bill, Chris and Marvin, an old acquaintance of Michael’s who was catching a ride south to buy a new boat. Michael made us dinner, Alfredo pasta, and made it very clear that was the only meal he would be making us. We decided to leave that night.

The wind wasn’t strong enough so we motored out of the marina and turned towards the open sea. I was already learning so much about boat light regulations, signals, navigation, buoys and so much more. After about an hour or two of the five of us hanging around the dark canopied deck watching the shore go by and the massive moon rise, we decided to start the night watch. It was a three hours awake, three hours asleep cycle. Two crew mates would be up at a time and Michael would stay on the deck all night sleeping occasionally. We were looking out for ships, floating shipping containers and basically anything else that would cause us to crash and drown. Ships were easy to spot with their direction indicating lights, but a watchful eye would have to strain to pick out a dark container in the water.

I took the first watch with Chris. We chatted about sailboat racing. The time went by really fast. After an hour or so the talking died out and I sat in silence looking out at the dark expansive moonlight sea. Suddenly my shift was over. I was surprised how easy it had been. I went down to the bunk room and tried to sleep. I was up on the top bunk and I had to tuck my legs into a little nook where the bunk entered the wall between the hull and a storage closet. After nearly falling off 20 times I eventually realized I was sleeping the wrong way and turned so my head and torso were in the little coffin-like cranny. That worked and the waves no longer threatened to drop me to the floor. I finally drifted off to sleep.

My alarm woke me from my watery dreams and I promptly smashed my head into the ceiling. I managed to get my body out of my sleeping bag and slithered my way out of my hole and off the top bunk. As I righted myself I misjudged the space and again bashed my head on my way down. I groggily worked my way up to the deck where I was told how much I’d missed. Apparently hundreds of dolphins had surrounded the ship and jumped alongside it for hours. I spotted a few final ones but with the now cloudy sky it was difficult to make out the stragglers in the dark.

I can’t describe the feeling of sitting alone in the middle of the vast moonlight sea. I wrote a poem that doesn’t do it justice. It was just such an overwhelmingly peaceful place to find oneself in.

Powerless

Ever forward

From numbing vastness to expansive oblivion

The mind wanders

A steep sway reminds of reality

Carried onward in a self steering ship

Collision the only concern

With what? Warped waters? Why worry?

Nevertheless moonshine guides watchful eyes forward to the always approaching horizon

A quilled night sky offers distraction in its pricks of light

Easing the mind from the consistent uniform sublime

Steady onward un-veering

A capsule frozen in place, passing over dark fluid dessert dunes

Ghostly foaming crabs scuttle outwards fading quickly back to anonymity

The only indication of the abnormality

An epsilon-esque blemish on infinity

Watch was a little tougher this time and I caught myself almost drifting off a couple times. I pulled out my phone and practiced Swahili pronunciations. Somehow that woke me up and after about half an hour of watching the sea while muttering foreign words under my breath I was able to push through until sunrise. Sitting on the gently swaying boat in the middle of that dark emptiness was one of the most peaceful experiences I’ve ever had. Unfortunately, it wouldn’t last.

I dozed through most of the morning on and off. I would come up on deck for an hour or so then realize I should really be trying to regain lost sleep from the night before. Around noon I gave up, made another turkey and cheese sandwich, and joined the crew on top. Marvin was seasick by this point and we barely saw him for the rest of the journey. Bill decided to try some fishing and soon his lines were all strung and he was casting off the stern. I was about to ask what would happen if a bird went for the lure but thought better of the question I already knew the answer to: it won’t. I already had a reputation for asking too many questions. Seconds after casting, Bill was reeling in his first catch, a sea bird. When he hauled it aboard and grabbed it we realized it had swooped and flown through the outstretched line. As he worked to untangle it it bit him. Spewing curses he freed it and threw it back into the sea. Later he told me it was a good thing I was there, otherwise he would have snapped its neck.

We (Bill) caught a massive tuna. He butchered it on the deck. I hung around asking questions. We set the meat aside to fry later. But, due to stormy circumstances, we never got a chance to cook it and we had to throw out the wasted meal.

I don’t quite remember when the wind picked up but we soon had gusts up to 40 knots from the recently calm 5 to 15 knots. I was excited because I thought it meant more speed. It did, a little, but it also meant massive aggressive waves. We had a little pitch and roll meter and I caught it at 45 degrees once. For the mathematically challenged readers, that is half way between horizontal and vertical, or in other words, safe and capsized. It was a wild ride.

Although being on deck was an exhilarating rollicking adventure, trying to sleep was a little less fun. I kept being flung from my top bunk and finally gave up with the realization that falling 5 feet in my sleep was not something I wanted to keep repeating. I managed to catch an hour or two of rest in Bill's bulkhead. There the walls rose on both sides and with strategically placed pillows you could decrease the amount of rolling your body did with each wave.

By this point I was just sleeping during the day whenever I could, which was rarely. At night I usually remained on deck except for a brief hour or so attempt to catch some rest. At one point the boat was mostly keeled to one side so I was able to wedge myself between a couch seat and the back cushion where I dozed for a couple hours. I was of course awoken every now and then by a huge wave that threw me onto the floor along with anything not nailed down (by this time we had stowed most books, utensils and other sharp heavy objects). Luckily the floor was only a foot lower than me which was a huge improvement from falling out of my bunk. The rails built into the ceiling to facilitate movement became crucial. Often I would be holding them and the floor would be swept out from under me, so I would hang there for a second before swinging back to a solid footing. Of course I would then be thrown into a wall but by hopping from corner to corner I could make my way around alright. Peeing was always a thrilling time.

After the second choppy night we made it around the worst point and started into the bay. That’s when the engine decided to fail. Luckily day was breaking so we tore up the main cabin’s floor and started working on the engine. After hours of no luck we had to call a tow. We had slowly been tacking our way close to the river mouth that led to our dock, but once inside there would be no way to safely maneuver the powerless boat without a perfectly favorable wind. It was kind of a bummer to end the trip with a tow and everyone was a little down. I made my final, probably 12th or 13th, turkey and cheese sandwich and waited for the excitement of port. It arrived quickly enough and with some quick jumps and thrown ropes the motorless yacht was all tied up.

It was nice to be back on land again. After swabbing the deck, and everything else on the ship, inside and out we got a chance to relax. Marvin left almost immediately, after supervising the swabbing from inside the cabin. The rest of us went about preparing for our next destinations. I managed to make contact and call a 70 year old ship captain who was sailing solo from a nearby port to the Bahamas. The plan we made was for me to hitchhike north to the ship where we would hang for a few days while we prepared for the journey. After that it was south via the Intracoastal Waterway until Florida and then a hop and a skip to the Bahamas. I was super excited, all I had to figure out was a minor passport problem. I needed to renew my passport for my Israel travels and it would be difficult to reconnect with it before the Bahamas. Luckily, the Bahamas are one of the few places, I was told, you can go without a passport, however getting back into the US would be difficult. I left a couple voicemails at passport offices and then let go of the issue until the next day when I could actually do something about it.

We all headed out for a super fancy celebratory steak dinner. The first restaurant we picked wasn't fancy enough so after appetizers we hit the street again. The second place was perfect, except our rivals, from the dock next to ours, were there. We spent most of the meal devising different devious plots to get revenge for some comments they made. The meal was heavenly, way better than turkey and cheese. Then we went to a couple bars and just sat around and chatted about the ride and the future. I had grown close with the guys over the trip and it was difficult to think about saying goodbye so soon.

After a beautifully full, calm night sleep Chris had to head out for his flight home. I took the awful brakeless rickety bike that the dock office lent out for communal use, and rode off to a nearby town to try and sort out some passport stuff. I was told that that would be the farthest trip ever attempted on the disintegrating vehicle. I ended up riding all over town and then to another one over trying to find a part for our broken engine, after dealing with the passport. It was a good time to be alone and reflect on the trip, although I often feared for my life on that hobbled together contraption.

That night we went out again, the three of us, for a final meal and to watch a game at a bar. It was really nice to joke around one last time. I left the second bar we went to because I couldn’t understand the drunken boat talk. I went and sat on the gently rocking darkened deck and thought about my adventures to come. The Bahamas was going to be great but I would miss having this great large crew.

The next morning we packed up and then I went to shower. When I came back from the bathhouse I found out how poorly timed my shower had been. They were trying to move the ship to a different dock. With a still crippled motor everything was being done with a web of ropes held by dock hands all over the place and the bow thruster. I was called for and quickly hopped aboard to start dashing around the deck manning different ropes. After a few small bumps and a much longer, more complex process than anyone expected we got the vessel settled at the new dock. Then the three of us started a final cleaning. We motored around the yacht in a dingy rubbing down the sides and shining them. After everything was shipshape I went off to find some breakfast.

At this point I made and got some calls and found out that I would be unable to get the passport in time to head to the Bahamas. I made a decision then which I still am confused about to this day, maybe I just needed a little break. I decided to sell out on my dream and hypocritically chose to go to Kentucky, where my parents lived, to work for a couple weeks instead of sailing on to Florida with the new captain. I reversed the choice that started my whole adventure and chose money over happiness. It was not a bright moment. I said my goodbyes to the ship and the sea.

I bought my tickets and drove to the airport with the other two guys who were headed back north. They had somehow managed to pass two pounds of turkey off to me. When we got to the airport I realized in my haste I had booked a ticket for the next day. The decision cost me an extra $300 dollars. I was feeling pretty glum at this point. We all said goodbye and promised to stay in touch. I got on my new flight, made my connection and landed in Louisville, KY. I got an Uber and headed to where I thought my parents lived. After some searching up and down streets I found the place I recognized from my visit there.

Unfortunately, there was no doorbell to ring so I called my mom. She was about to go to sleep but the first thing she asked was “Where are you?” I told her downstairs, which she didn’t believe at first but finally she came and let me out of the cold. They thought I would be either in my hammock by the side of the road in NC or on another boat if my hitchhiking had been successful. In hindsight, I might have told them ahead of time, but the look on her face was priceless. I ate some turkey, chatted with her a little and then hit the sack. Still feeling confused and depressed about my decision I was just ready to turn in. The adventure was actually over, after all that, but at least now I didn’t have to pay for food.