2003

ANCHORING

So it’s ’03 and I’m anchored in Portobello, Panama working on the prototype of the nesting planing dingy. (see Heads) I’d done a work gig in Ft Lauderdale working for one of those tax dodge marine outfits that will give you a grossly inflated receipt for your boat if you donate to them. You know, I certainly don’t, when your accountant says “You’re going to have to pay X mega bucks unless we come up with a deduction” and the ultra rich slob replies “Why don’t we donate that damn boat I bought while drunk, never use and is costing a fortune in marina fees” Hey, I didn’t devise the tax system, I’ve not paid into it in many years. I just fixed the boats for an hourly wage so the non profit outfit could sell them and internalize the money. Six months of that and I was convinced the cruising kitty was healthy enough to let me get out of the $500/mth slip in Los Olas with a falling down dock behind an apartment building whose units rented for $350/mth. Go figure.

I had a fine time getting down to Port Antonio, Jamaica, through the Bahamas where I met a lady friend that’d picked me up in a bar in Stuart, Fl, where I was rewiring a friend’s boat. Candyce was a nice woman who’d lived on a sailboat for 2 yrs between Fl, Bahamas and the Turks and Caicos, claimed she’d never gotten seasick. I met her at the airport in Kingston, now there’s a place you don’t want to go. We partied in Port Antonio for a couple of days, provisioned and set out for Provedencia, a beautiful Island possession of Colombia, who got it when Britain divested herself of a lot of her territories, I think, in the 50’s. People still spoke English there, although now Nicaragua is lusting after it. Can’t say I blame them, it’s a lovely spot. Port Antonio is the NW corner of Jamaica and a stiff 45 min beat will put you onto a comfy broad reach for Providencia, that’s if you’re not already seasick, like Candyce was. She lost it after 20 min and there was no going back, I had Dramamine and scopalamine patches but nothing works once you’re sick. For about 3 days Thalia reached at close to hull speed in a delightful sail in moderate seas, trade wind sailing at it’s finest, I mean a great sail, the kind other people will pay big bucks to enjoy. The fish came over the side easily and filled the freezer, but Candyce just lay on the low side of the cockpit, unless I was filleting a fish, and moaned, when she was conscious, “Oh please, just kill me and roll me over the side, I can’t do this.” You had to feel for her, I’d seen other folk seasick, but nothing like this. Eventually the mountainous island of Providencia appeared as a dark smudge on the horizon. “Candyce, I can see the island, you may actually get there alive.” Never saw a recovery that swift, “How far is it?” she asked hopefully “Oh, about 25 hrs, we’ll have an anchor down by 1600, and boat drinks by 1630” I enthused “Cool, I could use a drink.” she gushed. Some recovery. No? In all sincerity, she needed a more than a drink, she’d not even held down water since we left Jamaica and was dehydrated, needless to say she hadn’t eaten either. But we ate and drank big that night. We stayed about a week in Providencia, ignored its companion island San Andreas and set off for the San Blas Is fully provisioned and a freezer full of wahoo and dorado. This time I put a scopolamine patch on her the night before we left, figuring the 1% incidence of psychosis could be discounted as she hadn’t gone nuts, while seasick, although she was too weak to tell. But the patch worked like a champ and she was her cheerful, sunny self for the 2 day passage to the SBIs.

The San Blas Is, were as always, a rare treat, we caught up with a lot of my friends and made new ones. One lady gave Candyce who was about to go titanium post implants for a partial bridge a lot of advice on a Cartagena dentist, where she’d had pretty much the same procedure done along with the price, she had all the contact info and we found a solar powered pay phone in one of the Kuna villages, paid the obligatory $.10 to use the phone and Candyce spoke to the dentist, his English was perfect and he confirmed all including the prices, which were way below Candyce’s contribution on her dental plan. With that I lost my crew, but it was pretty much time for her to return to work anyway. She showed up on her way to Cartagena 6 mths later to get the bridges fitted, by then I was back in Portabello, where I started this story. Sorry about that, I’m easily distracted.

I love hearing other boaters tell me “No, I’ve never dragged, ever.” I figure that’s because they’ve always been on a dock. I’ve dragged too many times to count and that’s with a 45 lb Bruce and all 5/16” chain, but I think it’s because Thalia has so little motor, 20 hp, that she can’t pull the bight out of 100’ of chain in 20’ of water in reverse, much less actually burying the hook, but in my defense I’ve never hit anyone, that I’m aware of and only been hit once by a dragging boat in Langkawi, Malaysia years later. Touch wood, I’d rather be lucky than good. While in Fl I replaced my chain and come up with the not so brilliant solution of replacing all that heavy chain with just 100’ and 150’ of 5/8” 8 plait anchor rode. I’d saved 150 lbs in the bow, just where you don’t want it and that’s what this prolonged tale is about. I’d rented a room to work on the dinghy prototype from a very nice family with a seriously cool teenage son, Fransisco. Portabello is 50’ deep close to town and that’s where I’d anchored, but I had lots out, however the bay is open to the west and if it blows from there it’s a dangerous anchorage, but that’s rare. One day when I’d gone to Colon to use an internet café there was a storm that blew, yep, from the west. No indication of in Colon of what was happening in Portabello but when I returned, 1 hour by bus, the folks there told me Thalia had been lost in a blow, it was getting late and I could just see her sitting in a new spot but definitely floating. “Hey Darling, you didn’t sink yet” my standard greeting when dinghying out to the boat, but things were a trifle chaotic and she was sitting on a mooring. My Panamanian lady friend Indira, who taught English in Portabello and waited for me to get back, caught a ride out to Thalia when she heard I was back and told me what had happened.

Fransisco had seen Thalia take off at the height of the squall, grabbed 2 of his friends and my dinghy and caught her just before she went up on the river bar at the head of the bay. These 3 young men stood in chest deep water for 2 hours on the edge of the bar keeping her from going up. A couple of pangas with 40 hp Enduros came up to see what the salvage options were, but left when they saw the teenagers in the water. None offered to put a line on her and tow her to safety, they were hoping for salvage/looting opportunities. Eventually Indira heard was happening and found a VHF radio and called my friend Phil anchored on the other side of the bay and told him what him was going on. Phil roared over with his 25 hp dinghy and the 4 of them pulled Thalia clear and put her on the mooring. The only damage was a broken steering chain link, fortunately an end link, easy fix and bent rudder stops, another easy fix and oh yeah the anchor was gone and the bitter end of the rode looked like it’s been cut with a knife, but it appeared that very little was missing.

I took Indira into work in the morning and I’d taken $150 with me and went to find Fransisco, who immediately asked if Thalia was alright and if it was ok that they’d used the dinghy. “Jesus Fransisco, you saved my boat, anything you do is ok and yes, Thalia is fine” Fransisco relaxed and told me in very simple Spanish how the afternoon had gone. I listened carefully and when he was done I explained that I had to pay him for saving my boat, he protested that since we were friends payment was neither expected or wanted. “No sorry, Fransisco, you must take this” I said “You and your friends saved everything I own and unfortunately since I was not here I’m giving you with the responsibility of disbursing funds to the people that deserve them.” Portabello is not a wealthy community and even $150 is big money there plus he immediately grasped the concept that when the town found out that the Gringo had paid Fransisco’s life would be a misery. “He nodded gravely and agreed that there would be disagreements. I gave him the tightly rolled bills and he was way too polite to count them in front of me, but was back 2 mins later protesting that I’d overpaid for 3 hours work. “No Fransisco, what you and your friends did cannot be paid for, everything I own and love is on Thalia, I owe you debt that I will never be able to pay Please think well of me when the people in town come looking for a piece of the money.” I said. Spanish is fairly flowery and even my awful Spanish got the point across and he protested no more. Phil predictably was insulted when I tried to pay him “F**K off, you’d do the same for me in a heartbeat” It’s good to have friends. Fransisco’s quality of life went into steep decline as people presented themselves and I don’t really know how that went, but I heard from Indira that he had stood up to the panga drivers and said “All you had to do was put a line on Thalia, but no, all you wanted to do was steal from her. You get nothing.” Brave kid, like I said it’s good to have friends. However, everyone was nice to me as they knew I’d done the honorable thing and cheerfully and quickly overpaid for a service, didn’t seem like overpaying to me.

It took me 2 days of dragging a borrowed grapnel anchor to find 100’ of chain, my 44 lb Bruce and 8’ of rode, cut so nicely… Well, there’s 225 ft of 5/16” chain up there now and I don’t begrudge the weight, but man, I sleep so much better. George and Thalia

“If I’m lyin’…”