Thoughts on the First Part

Well, it’s my Mom and me onboard S/V NOMAD.  The first day alone together was a good one, largely recovery from the whole Niehuus crew onboard – we cleaned, organized, and generally made things more liveable.  Then we did the whole wine and sunset thing, on a deserted island.  Not too shabby.  We’ll be sailing today after diving, and I’m ready to play that game again – sailing has quickly become a favorite pastime.

But I received an email the other day, super-similar to others.  I reckon it’s best to take a shot at answering publicly – in hopes it actually helps other folks.  Rich, sorry for the delay in answer – I hope to be forgiven if I answer well.  There’s a little more here of the same on my The First 6 Months post.

Nate, 

A great site and inspiration!

I am on the same path; actively searching for a used Lagoon 380 or Leopard 38.  

Just some questions:

If you were starting your adventure would you stay a few months US stateside for the refit?

With your refit time/expenses would you purchase a newer more equipped boat?

How’s the sailing learning curve?

Any words of advice? 

—————

In order:

A great site and inspiration!

•   Thanks!

I am on the same path; actively searching for a used Lagoon 380 or Leopard 38.  

• Awesome!  Boat buying isn’t easy.  I literally got an email from a friend the other day that said:  Buying a boat is a big pain in the ass.  Sellers don’t respond, brokers don’t call back, no one gives a shit about the buyer.  I F*CKING HATE IT…  The best advice, which I didn’t take, was that a successful purchase depends on your ability to visit a ton of boats and pass on many – before even making an offer.  In hindsight, I agree entirely with that sentiment – though I’m not convinced that I could have done too much better.   That said, I would have went into this with my eyes a bit more open.  Both of those models you mention will do the job – find one you like and that has been well-maintained and well-loved. If there isn’t a long list of recent upgrades, don’t waste your time (unless you get a big discount, of course).

If you were starting your adventure would you stay a few months US stateside for the refit?

• Absolutely.  If I bought the boat in the US (or it was in reasonable sailing range) I would certainly stay there for the refit.  The ideal place for a refit is the US, most likely Florida.  I’ve heard arguments for Puerto Rico as well.  The access to knowledge (internet and boat-people), the access to high-quality parts, and the access to a high-quality postal service in the US will benefit you immensely.

With your refit time/expenses would you purchase a newer more equipped boat?

• Maybe.  This is tough.  Every cent spent was a learning experience.  That said, there were a couple of better-maintained and equally well-equipped Lagoons that came onto the market a couple of months after I purchased mine.  Of course they were more money.  Significantly more money, actually – but there’s an argument that my sanity and time are worth money too.  That’s an unsubstantiated argument, presently, though.  It depends on how hard your budget is, me thinks.  If I were to say I’d purchase a boat that was X- it would be a better maintained boat (newer and better equipped pale in comparison), but of course, I wouldn’t want to pay any more :)

How’s the sailing learning curve?

• Steep, but sailing is the easy part.  It’s fun and you’ll probably like it.  Especially on a smaller catamaran that is a) stable b) comfortable c) fast d) manageable to sail solo.  The boats you’re looking at really nail that – though I would personally give a bit of an edge to the Lagoon 380. Obviously I’m biased.  I personally struggle more with boat maintenance, troubleshooting, etc than with sailing.

Any words of advice? 

• I’ll try…
  
  • Join the owners group of any make of catamaran you are looking at and don’t be afraid to ask them for advice. Understand that they’re clearly biased in favor of that make.
  
  
  • Don’t be afraid to ask for advice and opinions, but take all of them with a grain of salt.  Sailors are, by nature: stubborn, sure they are right, and deeply opinionated.  For proof of that – start a conversation in a sailing bar with “I really like my CQR/Fortress/Rochna anchor, it’s the best.”  Guys who drag anchor in 15 knots of wind quickly find themselves anchor-experts.
  
  
  • This (cruising) really is one of those things that you have to do to understand.  Some coastal sailing can help give you a feel for it.  If you’ve been sailing for 20 years, you’ll have a grasp as well.  But dealing with boat maintenance, red tape, and general living in a foreign country where you don’t speak the language – while you’re trying to learn this lifestyle – isn’t for the faint of heart.  But you can do it.  Anyone can, with the proper mindset.  I knew nothing, I still know very little – but I can get from place to place and solve most major problems.
  
  
  • That’s the key to the whole thing – mindset and problem solving.  It’s definitely not easy, it’s definitely not a cakewalk, but it can be done and the rewards can be remarkable.
  
  
  • When you’re boat shopping, you’re in the driver’s seat.  Don’t let your boat broker, the boat seller, or anyone else make you feel otherwise.  You have the cash, and cash is king.  The broker wants to make a deal so he gets paid.  The seller wants to offload a rapidly depreciating asset that is a maintenance headache.  Be patient, don’t feel pressured, and if you don’t feel like you’re getting the right service – look elsewhere.  YOU have cash.  YOU are in the driver’s seat, end of story.
  
  
  • Take a look at the boats one level up (in the range of the Lagoon 410), if they interest you.  The space isn’t as well used, but they have dramatically more, and with a bit of practice they aren’t much harder to sail.  Of course, budget becomes a real factor here.
  
  
  • Get everything you want in the contract.  Don’t take anyone’s word for anything.  “It all comes with the boat” is a great way to end up with a stripped boat, if it’s not line-itemed in the contract.  Send the most qualified inspector you can find (get recommendations and previous copies of their inspection reports).  If you ask for repairs, send the inspector back to validate those repairs.  Never, ever expect something to be finished after the money changes hands.
  
  
  • Everything boat related takes 5X as long and costs 3X as much as you suspect.  Count on that, and you won’t blow budgets or set yourself up for schedule-stress.
  
  
  • When in doubt, reef.  Weather is king.  Schedules are for suckers. I failed on all of those counts, but it helps to say it :)
  
  
  • Finally – there will be days when you wonder if you’re doing the right thing, but that’s proof that you’re living.  Without that occasional feeling of nagging doubt – you’re just not pushing yourself out of your comfort zone enough.  The vast majority of men live in that comfort zone, and they’ll never do anything that really inspires people. Once you’ve done something like this, the conversations about interest rates at cocktail parties seem remarkably dull.
  
  

Most importantly – good luck, and I genuinely hope to bump into you out here.  “Out here” is a great place to be.

Killing Time

Thoughts on the First Part

I’m sure everyone got those “From Our Family To Yours” Christmas emails and Christmas cards.  Even I got a few.  Here’s one from The Nomad Trip – complete with minor adventures and plenty of pictures – albeit a few days late.  So, Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.  Mine was awesome, and I’ve just started to recover from a welcome issue – too much food.  And since I finally have a working computer – there will be more updates.

 

A Sailing Christmas

I’m a pretty lucky guy.  I have a family that’s intelligent, well-educated, and successful in anything they set their minds to.  It’s something I don’t think everyone can say, and since we don’t get to choose family – I’m really happy I ended up with this one.  So when this whole buy-a-boat-and-sail-around-the-world thing started, they were remarkably supportive (though obviously slightly concerned I’d went off my rocker).  Shortly after purchasing the boat, we planned a family Christmas in Panama aboard said vessel.

The week leading up to my family’s arrival was a whirlwind of shopping and boat-prep.  I really thought I had it all worked out.  Of course, I didn’t.  But, nonetheless, I had most of it worked out.  My brother came in, and I met him at the Le Meridien.  It’s the kind of place that is decidedly outside of my budget, but my brother had some points – so we stayed there.  I’d been living like a savage so long, I forgot what hot showers, air conditioning, and luxury beds felt like.  Without the worries of being captain – I slept like a babe.

The hotel view

Touchdown

The next day we put out some small fires, went grocery shopping, and headed to Puerto Lindo in my rust-bucket.  My brother was impressed that the car made it.  We had two days to get the boat ready for my Mom and sister.  But first, monkey-feeding.

Monkey Feeding Time

What started out as a couple of small boat projects escalated quickly.  I put on new zincs, worked on boat lettering, switched out Jabsco heads, and a variety of other small but important tasks.  While doing that – my brother attempted to change out an alternator on my port side engine.  That 20 minute task took us two days – we ended up having to cut the alternator off with a Dremel (but we got it done).  This, of course, led us to the realization that I didn’t have the right size bolt to mount the new alternator.  We realized this at 4PM on the day before Christmas Eve.  I had to make it to Colon within the hour if we were to be able to sail the following morning.  I made it, but by the skin of my teeth.

The alternator is off!

 

The Family is Aboard

Mom and my sister were delayed, but they made it back to the boat before I did.  I was still on a last-minute boat-part run.  Nonetheless, we were all onboard with all systems go for an early sail out of Puerto Lindo (to San Blas) the following day.  The boat already looked like Christmas – with a small tree and tons of gifts under it.

The next morning I found my navigation systems were down, but playing with some connections managed to get it all under control.  So we motored to San Blas (with headwinds).  On the way I lost my port engine.  Upon inspection I found that the electric fuel-pump had burned out – so I rerouted the fuel lines, replaced the Racor, and hoped for the best.  It worked, and we were back underway.

We made it into Chichime with daylight to spare on Christmas Eve.  We managed to drop the pick without issue and headed to shore.  A quick exploration of the main island led us smack-dab into some backpackers spending Christmas in San Blas – we were quickly invited to their Christmas Party.  That party included Santa hats.

A Sailing Christmas

Christmas Adventures

I wanted to see my buddy Rob on Christmas.  The issue was that he was in Nargana and I was in Chichime.  And we had 25 knots of wind on the face, gusting to 30.  The biggest concern was that I wanted to leave Chichime for Christmas – so I decided we’d give it a shot and see what happened.

We tried a bit of sailing, but quickly found how futile that really was.  So I cranked up the engines and we were underway.  Everything was fine, until my port engine went out again.  Clearly a fuel issue, but I couldn’t really figure it out – despite all of my troubleshooting.  So we limped along with a single engine until we finally made it to Nargana – where Rob was waiting on us.  Luckily, as I went to anchor – the port engine came back online – allowing me to maneuver and set the anchor correctly.  Needless to say, my nerves were a bit raw.

But we finally were anchored, Rob & Laurie came over with their guests, and my whole little family was onboard S/V NOMAD for Christmas.  I really can’t ask for anything more.  Though I was beat, we managed to open presents, have an awesome dinner, and kill a couple of bottles of wine.  Rob and I became convinced that I have a bit of particulate floating in my port fuel tank that is intermittently clogging my fuel intake line.  That’s a disappointing diagnosis as I just flushed both fuel tanks hoping to avoid exactly this.

A Sailing Christmas

 

Shopping In Nargana

A Kuna Grocery Store

The thing about Nargana is that it’s not very pretty.  Especially compared to the rest of San Blas.  So – we did some shopping, picked up some more diesel, and tried to head out of port before noon.  We made it.

A Kuna Christmas Tree

I knew we were going to have some great sailing winds, and a semi-favorable wind angle – so I was excited to do some real sailing.  Upon inspection, the port engine started and everything else seemed to be working.  Which is great news, considering how failure-prone all of this marine stuff is.  We set off, raised the main, let out the genoa, and suddenly we were doing 7 knots.  Then 8 knots.  Then 9 knots.  I was having so much fun that I didn’t stop at Green Island, deciding to take advantage of the favorable wind to head to some islands further offshore.

Almost 9 knots!

I managed to take a screenshot of us doing 8.8 knots, but kept missing the 9 knot mark.  Alas. I love sailing that fast, and after the last few days of unfavorable wind angles, it certainly was welcome.

West Hollandes

There are a couple of non-marked anchorages that I’m aware of in West Hollandes.  They’re nice spots as you’re able to anchor in relative peace and quiet.  Quite often these anchorages are deserted.  The wind was pushing about 18 knots when we went to drop anchor, and so two of these anchorages weren’t holding us very well.  I had to re-anchor 4 or 5 times to get a hold that I actually felt comfortable with.  Then I dove the anchor, and the holding looked alright – but not exactly what I wanted.  But we stayed there, and we never pulled anchor.  I’m learning how to set this Manson Supreme.  This is a 60 pound anchor – rather than my 44 pound Bruce, but the Bruce seems to be more forgiving of shorter anchor scope.  That’s a really surprising thing..

We headed ashore and did some exploring.  It didn’t take long for the brother and sister to resort to their usual antics.

The Family Circus

We made our way back to the mothership and had a relaxing night reading.  I, of course, was a little nervous about our anchor and so I slept fitfully – constantly monitoring the anchor alarm.

Reading onboard

The next morning was glorious, though windy.  After a quick breakfast we all headed out to a reef where I’ve had some luck in the past.  Within an hour we had more fish that we could eat – a couple of triggers and a barracuda.  I was comfortable taking a little more than we would eat as I knew the local Kuna, and enjoyed making fish-gifts to them.  They’re always pretty happy to get fresh fish.

An Hour’s Haul

Fish-Cleaning

We made the fish-gifts, had a nice lunch, and headed to see Prado – a local mola-making guru.  The family picked out some molas, they gave us some fish they had smoked, and we left.

That evening we needed to burn some trash (the only way to dispose of trash here) and we decided to do an island clean-up while we were at it.  We spent a few hours gathering plastic and other trash off the beach and collecting it.  Then we burned it, and watched the fire with a glass of wine.  Our good deed wasn’t on a global scale, but that beach was a completely different sight after we had finished.

Beach Cleanup Party

Enjoying the clean beach…

Another night was spent at anchor in West Hollandes.  That night my brother hooked up with a baby shark under our green fish-light.

Sharkman

We needed to get to relative civilization to get my brother and sister heading back to Panama City, where they’d then return stateside.  But before we set sail again, we made another quick dive for lobster.  We found one, and having plenty of fish – I refrained from pulling the trigger on any more fish.

East Lemmons

We set sail from Hollandes with a not-so-favorable wind angle, but I was tired of motoring and wanted to sail.  So I put the crew to work and we sailed to East Lemmons – tacking the whole way, and only burning diesel to set our anchor.  Despite the wind angle, we averaged over 6 knots – though not in a straight line.  Not too shabby for a bunch of amateurs.

When tacking…

When not tacking…

We found a spot with a favorable depth and plenty of swing room and dropped the pick.  I dove the anchor, and with being satisfied with the holding – we took off to Elephante.  Brother and sister decided to kayak, while Mom and I took the dinghy.  We gave the kayakers a head-start, but managed to catch them in time to spin the dinghy around them in circles and try to dump them over.  They were more resilient that I’d hoped and managed to stay on top of the kayak.  Very disappointing.

Exercise

On Elephante we had beer, then headed to the other island where we arranged transportation to Porvenir the following morning.  Their flight left at 7AM from Porvenir, which meant that brother and sister would be leaving S/V NOMAD before light.  No problem though.

All Good Things Must Come To An End

We feasted and drank wine.  But, with the days activities, I was beat before 10 PM.

We were all up by 5 AM.  The water-taxi was due at 5:45 AM.  At 6 AM we got a little worried, and my brother and I headed to shore in the dinghy to wake up the locals.  We really needed that water taxi.  We found the water taxi on the way in – and shortly we were loading the water taxi.  We said hurried goodbyes (the wind was gusting at 25 knots) and suddenly S/V NOMAD was short two more crew.  It was decidedly quieter onboard, but that’s not always a good thing.

I can’t say this is the kind of Christmas everyone should try – but it worked for us.  And when it was over we were all sorry to have to say goodbyes.  There was plenty of laughter, great food, wine, and general good cheer.  I can safely say I don’t have much love for the Christmas debacle in the States, but it really is nice having your family around for the holidays.  Especially if you’re onboard a sailing yacht in San Blas.

Now, back to cleaning and fixing stuff.

A Sailing Christmas

I’ve had a few emails recently concerning sailing crew.  And occasionally I get emails from people who want to join as sailing crew onboard S/V NOMAD.  And I’ve had both really cool and really bad experiences with crew.  This is a touchy subject, as you can imagine, because all of the previous crew reads the stuff that I write.  As well as all potential crew. That said, I work pretty hard at being honest when I write – even when it is (and it usually is) uncomfortable.

Thoughts on Sailing Crew

 

Here’s an email I received the other day.  Right before the debacle with Josh Phillips.

Hey Nate,

…

 I have a question for you…

 You talk a bit about taking on crew and taking on crew with specific experience.  Im very

interested to know exactly how you have worked this.

 How are you finding crew?  finacrew.net? cruisersforum? Local bars and backpacker joints?

 Are you paying them? Are they paying you?

….

 

Here’s a much more complete answer to how I find crew, how it impacts me, and whether I think it’s worth it – which was the crux of this chap’s email.

 

Finding Sailing Crew

 

First – have an online presence.  Having a presence online is a massive amount of work.  If you don’t gloss over the not-so-shiny parts it’s also a bit of a liability.  All that said, an online presence (that you actually put work into) really helps.  You don’t need to post daily, your site doesn’t need to be fancy – but writing and being honest goes a long way.  Of course, for this to work for you, you also need to promote this online presence a bit.  Self-promotion is ugly, almost as ugly as being honest.  I hate self promotion – but it’s an absolute necessity if you want to make any kind of an impact.

Secondly – try new stuff.  Use your online presence to ask for help.  Post on forums that have some tangential qualities.  FindACrew can work, but I’ve not had any luck there.  Of course, if I was really looking for high-quality sailing crew – I’d put more work in there and probably have more luck there.  The truth is, I enjoy meeting new people and having them onboard – I’m not sure that I want anybody coming onboard and telling me how to run my ship.  Which is what you invite when you bring on more sailing-oriented crew.  I’ve had the best luck with workaway.info, but they’re a fickle beast and not (at all) open to the idea of a day-rate (which is the only way to handle crew, IMO). cruisersforum would probably be a good place, but it’s not ideal for a variety of reasons – and I don’t use it for that.  BUT – you can definitely find crew on cruisersforum.

Finally – be open to random occurrences.  If you do the above, you may not always have steady sailing crew onboard – but you can lean toward “yes” when crew makes itself available.

 

Selecting Sailing Crew

 

So, once you’ve done the work to find sailing crew – you need to actually select them. When I’m actually trying, I get two or three emails a day asking to join the trip.  This allows me to be fairly selective.  That’s important, but even with this relative luxury – I’ve made mistakes.

I read an old issue of a cruising magazine the other day.  On selecting offshore sailing crew, Fatty (the dude’s name) wrote something to the effect of:  “only sail offshore with crew that you’re sleeping with.”  When I read it, I scoffed.  But then, after I had more crew onboard – I saw what he was trying to say.  More on that later – but the basis of this is that you need to absolutely know the person, you need to be able to get along with them in tense situations, and you need to be able live with them in very tight quarters.  And everything on the boat needs to have multiple purposes.  The previous parameters almost preclude any long-term sailing crew other than paid crew, or crew you are sleeping with.  That’s an unfortunate truth, but I now think Fatty was on to something.

So, when you select sailing crew you need to select them for personality and perceived trustworthiness (it’s impossible to really know how trustworthy someone is, I’ve decided).  Then you need to select them based upon how much they really want to be onboard.  Then you need to consider their skillset and what they bring to the table.  If you select a crew member with the idea of skillset first – you risk losing on personality and trustworthiness.  That’s a real problem, and then crew is a real liability. And someone really wanting to be onboard will often allow them to deal with the difference between their expectations and the reality of sailing around and living on a boat.  Make no mistake – there’s a massive difference between the dream and the reality.

A Skype chat can help.  A little bit about them, ideally in the form of a well-worded and clear email helps.  A clear agreement on what is expected and what will be provided, in a written format, is absolutely required.  But none of that ever really prepares you for what a person may or may not be when they step into your house/vehicle/temple/mistress (your boat).

I think, at this point, that the best sailing crew is often post-professional.  Meaning that they’ve actually done a bit of work in the “real-world.”  They are used to handling responsibility, they have had to do things under pressure with people they don’t always agree with, they’re educated and understand their own fallibility.  They know what it’s like to work in shitty conditions for things that they want in their life.  They understand the effort and sacrifice one makes when they put their money into a boat, which depreciates (rather than a business, real estate, or other investments).  Of course, too much work in the “real-world” makes one very boring, unhelpful on an adventure, and narrow-minded.  So – it is, like all things, a trade-off.

The Drawbacks

First let me say that sailing crew onboard my yacht, to date, has been a remarkable pleasure.  There are things that you learn about people that aren’t always pretty.  There are times when it really sucks.  There are times when you may want to literally throw them into the water as you’re sailing.  If you doubt that, I question your grip on reality.

With that in the back of one’s mind, consider the following, which was my actual response to the email mentioned previously in this post.  Please note these are generalizations, because when we’re trying to make decisions – we all generalize.

On crew, here’s been my experience:

-  Specialized crew is better
- Make it very clear beforehand what their duties are
- Try to scare them off by being honest about the cons, if they stay interested they have a higher
chance of being legitimate
- They will interrupt your peace
- They will drive you nuts at times
- They will get tired of you asking/telling them to do things
- Males are more likely to have an issue taking orders than females
- Females are more likely to keep things clean and be pleasant
- Females are less likely to be able to handle the lifestyle (limited water, no hair driers, etc)

Something I failed to add in the above – it’s that it takes a couple of weeks to train sailing crew.  And so, if they come on for only a couple of weeks – their positive impact onboard is negligible.  Finally, as I was reminded in the Re:Re: of this email chain – females are more fun to look at.  That I can’t disagree with, though it certainly depends on the female.  And the more pleasant-looking ones aren’t always cut out for this.

In short:  There’s a reason that most captains don’t take on crew, even when they are sailing solo.  There’s a reason that crew, if taken on, often comes on with very specific goals and dates.

Payment and Other Stuff

The truth is I hate dealing with money and people. But I realize its necessity and treat it as a means to purchase my freedom.  And while money can’t buy happiness, it can by freedom.  That’s close enough.

My ability to continue this lifestyle is directly tied to the balance in my bank account.  Which means I take on crew that pays.  If I’m going to have to deal with the implicit expectations, schedules, and other pressures of crew – they aren’t getting a free ride.  Especially since I’m not working and every cent I spend is a cent I can’t spend toward my voyage.  I think, based upon a small amount of experience, that a $X/day rate is the best.

That $X/day rate should cover food and (for lack of a better word) rent.  Other stuff is the absolute responsibility of the crew:  alcohol, tourist stuff, visas, etc.  I don’t know what the magic number is, but I can assure you that this won’t be a money-making endeavor.  At best, it will offset some expenses.  The absolute max (to date) that I’ve charged crew is $20/day, which included alcohol and tons of expensive food (not just rice and beans).

In the cruising world, it’s common to charge $30-35/day.  I have more than a few friends who’ve charged this.  Sometimes more if you’re on a catamaran and you’re eating well.  But if you’re thinking you want to actually make money – you need to consider chartering (which, for a catamaran is something to the tune of $300/person/day). That is actually putting money back into the kitty – where as anything less really isn’t.

It’s tempting (because crew will press you) to simply split expenses.  This, absolutely, never works out in favor of the boat owner.  Doing this should be a last-ditch effort and only done with people that you can absolutely trust or that have a fair amount of money (meaning they’re less likely to steal from you).

Finally -any money that needs to change hands needs to do so when the crew boards.  From there, be prepared to refund any $ if the sailing crew leaves earlier than expected.

What Does Crew Get Out Of This?

In short – they don’t have to buy a boat. And they get to learn yours.

They don’t have to worry about all the bullshit involved in tying up one’s entire life savings in a depreciating asset.  They don’t have to worry about where they’re going to get that hard-to-find part when they’re in a remote part of the world.  They don’t have to worry about crew (see what I did there?).  They don’t spend their nights up worrying about what other spare parts are needed before the next big adventure.  And they don’t worry nearly as much when things don’t work – worst case, they just leave.

If they appreciate sailing, exploring, and an ocean-oriented lifestyle – they will love simply living on a boat.  Let alone all of the pleasure that comes from moving around in one.  And, again, they don’t have to tie themselves to the boat.  When they’re ready to take off, they just leave, and the captain is stuck with the worries/hassles/headaches/expenses of the boat.

Honestly, if a crewmember doesn’t understand the value of that – they’re the wrong crewmember anyways.

Any Lessons Learned?

Yep.  Too many.

The larger picture is that you need to treat crew with caution.  If you’re really dotting your i’s and crossing your t’s – you need to have them sign something close to a contract, which documents your expectations of them and releases you from any liability.  Said “contract” also needs to be very clear about payment and expenses.

You should get a copy of their passport.

You should be fair and honest, but understand that you can’t expect crew to understand your reality.  Which is one in which you’re cautious:  about weather, boat condition, and general health and safety of the crew.  Crew is often more tied to schedules, with the preceding thoughts being afterthoughts.

You should have a small “welcome aboard” list.  And a list of boat rules.  And a clear understanding (both verbal and written) about who is in charge.  If it’s your boat – you’re the person in charge.

 

There’s no room for:

– a shitty attitude

– a “f**k-you” attitude.  Very similar to a shitty attitude, but more subversive

– any misunderstanding about who makes the calls

– anyone who doesn’t pull their weight and then some

– people who don’t respect your property, your sacrifice, or you

– people who try to run your boat

Is Sailing Crew Worth It?

In a word:  maybe.

If I honestly tally it up, the one bad experience I had cost more than the other good experiences have helped me.  That said – the good experiences allowed me to meet cool people and learn new things.  And even the bad experience wasn’t all bad, all the time.

After thinking about this very question, I asked a few captains their thoughts.  The overwhelming majority a) don’t bring crew on and b) only let “outsiders” on the boat if they’re charter guests paying full charter rates.  If I were to start over, that may well be my rule.  The only deviation from that are friends and family, with exceptions made for the occasional interesting person of the opposite sex.  Random sailing crew has liability issues, issues with schedules, issues with expectations, trust issues, and they are living in very close quarters with you.

So, if you bring on crew – do your homework, set expectations, get things in writing/signed, and be prepared for the occasional bad-egg. Otherwise, stick to sailing with people you trust and know.

 

Thoughts On Sailing Crew

The Last Few Days

So I’ve managed to have the last of my credit cards stolen/misplaced, break my Mac, finish some remaining boat projects, and we even took a couple of days to sail to a nearby beach and hang with the locals.  Fun times.  For the foreseable future, my ability to post decent pictures and do real writing is going to be hampered.  Bear with me.

The Last Few Days

After we got the last of the major boat-projects knocked out, we took off to Playa Blanca.  There we anchored S/V NOMAD in a calm, picturesque anchorage.  The sail was relatively uneventful, with some fair chop and one of the greenhorns getting pretty seasick.  We managed to hit 8 knots with four people onboard, too much spearfishing gear, full fuel tanks, an additional anchor, and water.  I’d say that’s fair performance for  37 + foot cruising catamaran.

Dropping the anchor isn’t nearly as stressful for me anymore.  Now rather than dropping a 44 pound Bruce anchor, I’m dropping a 60 pound Manson Supreme.  That extra 15 pounds makes a huge difference.  Backing down on the Manson Supreme makes my bow drop, where as before, backing down on the Bruce often drug the anchor.  In addition, I added a bunch of rope to the end of my anchor chain which helps me not worry about dumping all of my chain.  All in all, much more confident anchoring.  Confident enough now that I can sell my mooring and move my home base from that dreaded Puerto Lindo (Isla Linton).  I’ll miss some friends, but it’s way past time to move.

There were some hiccups to the anchoring.  The largest one was that someone put out fishing lines and then I completely forgot about them until I was backing down on the anchor.  That ended in lines in my props.  I can’t tell you how frustrating that is, but I should have seen that one coming.  Regardless of who put the lines out, it was my responsibility to remember to pick them up – and all of this sitting around in Puerto Lindo made me a little rusty.

Onshore in Playa Blanca

By pure coincidence, the day we’d chosen to go to Playa Blanca was a local Holiday.  So the locals were out in force.  The good news is they were fairly intoxicated and all in a good mood when we arrived.  So when Josh decided to scale a tree, install a rope swing, and rappel back down – they immediately begin feeding us whiskey.  Their method left nothing to be desired, as they sent their best English-speaker (conveniently their prettiest girl) to pour whiskey straight from the bottle down our throats.  We appreciated their style.

We gathered coconuts, ate some food, had some smoothies, and then went for a dive.  I can’t condone drinking and freediving, but it does happen from time to time.  And we manage to put fish in the boat.   

Calm

The locals were gone.  As soon as it began to get dark, they head back to Portobello.  So, at night, things are calm and peaceful.  It’s kind of a nice thing for a couple of days – socialization during the day and peace at night.  Josh and I were both beat.  We fell asleep when I was supposed to be grilling.

 

Results of a long day…

Luckily the girls figured out the grill and managed to cook a big spread of beef, pork ribs, sausage, and even some tamales (real ones, not Mexican tamales).  It seems as if I’m spending time between two extremes – being immensely spoiled and being deeply tried.  After some thought though – that’s fine with me.

Best Laid Plans

Josh was hoping we’d be headed to Bocas.  I was too.  We both actually completely and totally planned on it.  But the family is coming in for Christmas and the committee spoke and I was overruled by my family.  What happened, after looking back on it, is pretty strange – my family, with no real investment in my boat, the work on it, or my voyage – overruled me and my crew.  Considering me and the crew had an immense amount of work (months) and money invested in the boat, it’s hard to really comprehend how that happens, but it does and it did.  It will be great to have the family aboard and show them a little bit of the lifestyle.  I’m looking forward to it, and consider whatever sacrifice to be well worth it.  But the whole exchange was a stark reminder of how different the average American mindset is than what is required for a real cruising/voyaging mindset.  The difference couldn’t be greater.  And, again, even when crew comes from America – it becomes clear that there’s a real adjustment period.

So when I broke the news to Josh that I wasn’t going to be taking the boat to Bocas, the dissapointment was obvious and he quickly arranged to head to Bocas via a bus.  Honey was headed to Columbia.  My friend from Panama City had already headed home.  So the boat was going from 4 people to just me.  I was planning on heading to San Blas for the sake of the crew, but with now crew onboard I could now tinker with the boat at my leisure and head to San Blas when and if I felt like it.  The relief was immediate, and I realized then how much additional pressure crew adds.

Without crew onboard, I’ll have to (again) relearn the art of cooking and cleaning after myself.  I won’t have people to pass tools to me. I won’t be able to leave the boat and have things continue to progress.  But I will have some pressure lifted.  I’ll get back into a healthy routine, and I’ll have the kind of peace that you can only have when you’re alone on a boat in the middle of a third-world country in the middle of a remote anchorage.  For short periods of time, this is priceless.

And then, I may have the opportunity to test my single-handing skills.  If I have the chance, it’ll be a really gratifying experience to sail around San Blas again by myself – purely self-sufficient.

 

The Last Few Days