I’m not sure how other captains feel about leaving their boat. I am sure that I don’t like it.
All repair/maintenance halts, and it seems like no matter what you do – there’s always more broken when you return than when you left. And I’m still new enough to this that I worry about leaving a hatch unlocked, or the watermaker pickled incorrectly, etc. If you’re a homeowner who has ever left for an extended vacation – it’s a similar worry (but multiplied by 100). All that said – I’ve made enough friends in the anchorage that I feel pretty comfortable leaving S/V NOMAD, as far as location goes.
New Friends
I’ve gotten to know some of the semi-local cruisers. They’re semi-local in that they’re currently in my anchorage, but live aboard floating/sailing houses that they can (and do) take wherever they want. But for the next couple of weeks, while I’m in the States, these semi-locals are going to be a huge help. Harry and his wife Linda (another catamaran owner in the anchorage) are watching S/V NOMAD like a hawk. And Harry knows enough about the boat to move it around in case the worst happens – my mooring falls apart and the boat starts drifting.
We met when I helped them move a (really) heavy generator from their back deck to their engine rooms below-decks a few weeks ago. I can tell you – it was less fun than I’d imagined (and I really didn’t think it was going to be fun). Truth be told – my back was sore for a couple of weeks afterward. Lifting with your legs isn’t always an option in tight spaces belowdecks…
Anyways, since we’ve met – they’ve been remarkably helpful in just about every way. Including helping me doctor this rotten finger a bit. They also fed me ham, broccoli and mashed potatoes one night- which is way better than I eat when I cook for myself.
Another American Spearfisherman
I was buzzing around the anchorage the other day, making plans to buy a small Honda 2000 generator w/propane conversion (way cheaper to run), when Phillipe (the guy selling the generator) noticed my finger and told me to run talk to a nearby boat about the infection – as the captain of the nearby boat had a similar issue. I asked the typical gringo question – does he speak English? – and thankfully the answer was affirmative. Turns out he was an American. Great news, but I’m a little skeptical of some American cruisers already.
Imagine my pleasure then, when a halfway decent guy walks out from below decks. Even moreso when I find out that he’s an avid spearfisherman. I believe his words, when he heard I was a spearfisherman, were: “it’s my church.” That’s a feeling that I can relate to. I coming to believe that the younger sailing crowd are very often spearfisherman. Though I’ll admit that they’ve tended to be in the “get dinner” camp as opposed to the “shoot big fish” camp. Either is fine, but there are some techniques that the former camp often misses. And the latter camp (where I believe I fall) often passes on fish that are near perfect for dinner… Alas.
Enough of that though.
This dude’s name is Alex Dorsey. You’ve probably ran across his site if you’re into the cruising blogs: Project Bluesphere. We bonded pretty quickly. I found out he’d sailed through the South Pacific and had some knowledge worth knowing. He found out I had a car – and we both share a similar distaste for riding the bus into town. That sealed the deal.
My last few nights in Puerto Lindo we traded off making dinner and generally shooting the shit on each other’s boats. It was nice to have another opinion on boat maintenance, and someone with some mechanical chops onboard to walk me through my systems. And his new wife Carla can cook!
It also turns out that Carla can do canvas work. Convenient, as I needed a new sailcover for my main. Hopefully we’ll be spearing and diving together a bit when I get back. I have some tricks that I can pull out with two people in the water – and I’m dying to try my new Rob Allen Spearfishing Gear. Rob, thanks again man!
An Infestation
I really hadn’t given much thought to infestations onboard a sailboat. Like, for instance, roaches. Or worse, rats. I just assumed it was pretty unlikely. Not the case. In fact Alex and Carla had been fighting a rat onboard for a week or so. I could tell it was stressing them out. The rat was eating their food, likely chewing through their wiring, and keeping them up at night. No fun.
The last straw, though, was when the rat started chewing through Alex’s mainsail. Jeez. The good news is that Alex was pretty crafty making traps. There were no fewer than 4 different kinds of traps onboard when I was around.
To make a long story short – the day before we needed to leave for Panama City (Alex and Carla were dropping me off at the airport) – Alex got the rat. More specifically - Alex locked it out of the boat in the middle of the night, and in the morning he shot it with a speargun. True story. Here’s proof. Never heard of that before – but it works, if you’re a good shot.
Back to Panama City
Alex needed to see a doctor in Panama City, I needed a ride to the airport. The solution was pretty simple – Alex and Carla come in with me, and drop me at the airport. None of us have to ride the bus, we all get to Panama City.
Well – we got into a little trouble in Panama City. First I backed the SUV up into a huge hole that was well-hidden on the street. It completely bottomed out my suspension. And, wouldn’t you know, the locals there knew exactly how to get it out – for a fee of course. I don’t like the feeling that I’m being ripped off (getting the gringo treatment), but it’s better than having your SUV in a hole in a crappy part of Panama City. So the locals got us out, and we paid them.
Then I was having some trouble navigating through rush-hour in Panama City. Ask anyone who has ever seen it – it’s complete and utter chaos. If you’ve ever cursed the drivers in any American city, let me assure you – Panama City is horrible (but supposedly decent compared to other South/Central American Cities). Well, I darted into an opening in a turn-lane. It wasn’t a classy move, but I was still driving better than any of the locals.
Unfortunately for me, there was a pipsqueak of a police-officer that noticed I was a white guy with blonde hair, behind the wheel. This means he wants to pull me over and write me a ticket, at which point he wants me to bribe him to not write a ticket. But, of course, I don’t really care if he writes me a ticket – I won’t pay it. I just leave his crappy city, and eventually his country. I’ll repeat it – I don’t like being ripped off. Alex and Carla were with me, and Alex pulled out an old trick – he started videoing the encounter.
The police officer got pretty defensive, and if looks could kill – Alex wouldn’t have walked out of that encounter. I was legitimately worried the police officer might take a whack at Alex with his baton. Rather, the police officer just handed me back my license and told me to get lost. That’s a solid win for the visiting team.
And that was the last of the excitement. Unless, of course, you consider waiting on a 2:30 AM flight exciting. I consider it a circle of Hell.
Leaving and New Friends
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