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Sassea Sails

SAILING, METAPHORS, ADVENTURE,

Tri Again . . .

From my Corsair F28, with my Marples 35 in between, to Ron’s homebuilt F31-9A to our newly purchased Windrider 17, we are tri ing again. Why not? Although for me it has been an intuitive, beauty in the eyes of the beholder, a trimaran is the way to sail. For those technies that need/want to understand their seafaring attributes from an expert, listen to Jim Brown’s podcasts. You can access them on ‘outrig.com’  Or simply google them.

Pictured above on the left is “Chiquita” Ron’s F-31, 9A that he built, sailed extensively around the mid Bahamas and round trip from Everglades City to Orr’s Island, Maine.

Pictured above on the right is Pete Kissel’s original Windrider 17 that he purchased in 2002. Now, the proud owner is me, the sassea sailor…. Actually, ownership is shared with me mate, Ron. We named her LC, ‘lil’ Chiquita.’ After all, compared to his former F9A she looks like a baby banana.

 

Caterpillars and Butterflies

Engraved on a tombstone at the cemetry where my friend, Linda’s parents and brother – in- law are buried:

TO THE CATERPILLAR IT IS THE END,

                                                    TO THE BUTTERFLY IT IS THE BEGINNING!

 

SPRAY, WIND, n RIDE

From My Marples 35, SPRAY, to my Windrider 17 I am destined to Ride. The big challenge is to curb my appetite for competition and adventure.  The multiple common denominator is both boat have the infamous Jim Brown influence, both are trimarans, and both have a beautiful history accompanied with a preferred future.

image1

Having listened to the 14 podcasts written and narrated by Jim Brown, I am intrigued by my intuitiveness. I had no idea that tris sailed smoother over waves than catamarans. Seemingly it is because the width from main hull to lee ama is less than the distance between two hulls of a cat. The windard hull on the tri rides out of the water so it has minimal impact. It kind of makes sense to me. For more technical info, though, listen to podcast # 14.

Before I ever sailed, even prior to my imagining I would ever sail despite my captivation with the sight of two memorable events. The first was when I saw Ted Turner at the helm of courageous during a CBS newscast in the 1970s. A few years later the second event was when I was drawn to a white home built tri sitting at a dock in the Florida Keys. I didn’t know there were monohulls and multihulls. I just knew there were sailboats and good looking sailors.

Of course, the best looking sailor in my humble opinion is and has always been my dad. He was a different kind of sailor than Ted Turner, my husband, and my current beau. My dad proudly served as a medic in the U.S. Navy. Never, though did dad have an inclination to learn to sail a ‘real boat.’ Before my rambling gets the best of me, let me get back to the purpose of this article.

With the sale of SPRAY to a happy go lucky, intelligent man I bought LC, so named by me and my mate. What matters here, is that I am again draining my bank account all for the love of my life, sailing. To ride the waves, ride with the wind, ride with a friend, ride alone, ride for the thrill, ride for the peace, ride to teach, ride to learn, ride Sassea, ride! That is what I will do.

Sea you on the Water,,,,,image1

 

 

 

Passing the Helm

 

To pass the helm to an excited prospect brings joy in watching their anticipation of a lifestyle yet to be had. To give up the helm brings sadness, regret, and admonition as I wrestle with accepting who I am. To rationalize my luck in being healthy with no signs of cancer, kidney failure, or heart disease with the demise of loneliness is a tough pill to swallow.

The pain resulting from a sense of being unloved and unwanted by a romantic partner became unbearable. When the prospect of an attractive and kind  partner offered to spend the rest of his life with me, I couldn’t resist. Certainly, I didn’t. Maybe under different circumstances I would have resisted. Why I didn’t is a bit hazy.

Was it the fear of moving to the next leg of the voyage? I think that was it. Sailing toward the Caribbean after getting comfortable finding my way around the Bahamas conjured up fears. The water depth in the Virgin Islands and parts beyond was said to be upwards of 100 feet at anchorages. Up until this time I rarely dropped the hook in more than 10 feet.

Many questions plagued my waking hours. Did I have enough chain? Would I have to dive on the anchor? Who would help me? Rather than do more research and focus on what I could do to alleviate the fear, I looked for an escape. My past behavior shows a pattern of finding a mate. Since the 3rd grade, it seems I was always eyeing some good looking guy.

To want to sail alone while inclined to need/want a boyfriend befuddles me. In the end, though, having a mate won the battle. It has now been 2 1/2 years since giving up the helm. It has been 30 months since I sought an adventure worthy of writing about.

In line with the cliche ‘the check is in the mail’ I wonder, what will happen to me. Will I return to small boat racing? Will I wish SPRAY and I were still the team we were for 3 wonderful years? Will I find a new passion?

Que Sera, Sera, is such a simple way to negate all the negative feelings, regrets and unresolved understanding of why I am not amongst the solo sailors who made the circumnavigation I continue to dream about. The desire awakens me at least 3 or 4 nights a week. My subconscious seeks a way to make it happen only to be dismissed at first light.

And, so it is. Rather than this website being a journal of well documented researched articles about my life as a solo sailor, it has become a place to ramble, to vent, to document my thoughts. Sorry to bore folks, but soon, I may again give up my volunteer job and concentrate on my passion for sailing. For now, I think I will go for an intriguing walk along Panther Creek, in the darkness of our first week of daylight savings time in the year 2016.

Hillary Clinton, My Kind of Gal

How many of us cried when waking to the news that Donald Trump won Presidential Election? I sure did. After all, I watched my entire adult life a woman who set a goal then did what she could to achieve it. That amounts to about 45 years. More than double the time I spent trying to capitalize on becoming a champion sailor.

Endless hours, more than 50% of my earnings, and too many missed opportunities with family and friends were spent with one single goal: to win a championship. In that respect Hillary and I have common ground. She set herself a goal. Like an arrow being shot in the dark, she drew back the bow, aimed high, and with heart and soul, let it fly.

Members of my local sailing club, once called me a tough broad. I hated that term. Referring to a woman as a broad had a derogatory tone. My dad called single woman, and woman who achieved outside the traditional home lifestyle ‘broads.’ I wasn’t, and never will be a broad. Neither is Hillary.

You can mock her dress if you find boxy shaped pants suits and covered cleavage if you want. You can displace your jealousy because she is a substantial wage earner and not dependent on her husband to pay the bills if that is your choice. The reality is, this woman took on leadership roles, while most of my friends and colleagues, had neither the strength or wisdom to step outside the box.

I regret not taking a more active role in the political process. It is my fault she lost the election. I could have spent more time and money posting signs and hosting meetings. Rather, I chose to play the piano, read books, drive aimlessly around the country, attend ladies’ coffee, strive to win a race, and even indulge in libations.

So, while real tears streamed down my cheeks when it became apparent she would not be the next President of the United States, I knew it was my fault. No petition or protest, after the fact, will change the outcome of the election. There is no doubt in my mind that Hillary Clinton will go down in history as a woman who did more than care about people. She took action, tolerated accusations for being corrupt over a misinterpretation, and stayed on course even when her husband’s ego did unrequited damage to their marriage. Why people hated her I will never know.

Anyway, this is my banter, my venting, and my continued belief, that Mrs. Hillary Clinton, is my kind of gal!

 

I LOVE MY BOAT

There I said it. Actually I have said it many times during our courtship. What started as the fulfillment of a nearly lifelong dream and ended with the thrill of a romantic encounter haunts me each and every day. It is all good stuff. With the acceptance of life as a bitter suite adventure, how can anything we encounter be but an experience of wonderment.

Let me start with a definition of bitter suite as opposed to bittersweet. To be bittersweet I believe we encounter the same event at the same time. For example, morning the death of my beloved Danny while reveling in my purchase of SPRAY was bittersweet.  Sailing without having Danny to call on was the most bitter of tastes ever to pierce my lips. The suite was my new home, the home that is still mine; that home is SPRAY. And, Danny, is still my beloved.

It seems philosophical thinking that has crept into my being as it never has before. Why hasn’t SPRAY sold yet? Many say it is a matter of fate. Sooner or later that rightful owner will show up. In the meantime I meet dynamic people. Take Lew for instance. Lew and I both have the gift for gab. He lives in Oklahoma or Kansas. It is one of those states not known for sailing. Yet he has raced on a friend’s F27 and is fascinated by the thought of owning a tri bigger and more accommodating than his Dick Newick designed Tremolina. If the truth were known, I would consider a swap. There just isn’t room for a sailboat on coupleship.

More importantly, is that talking with Lew ignites the fire I once had. Living each day with the passion of watching a dream come alive presents a spectacular display of enthusiasm. Lew is getting ready to sell his house, is contemplating whether or not to sell its contents or pay for storage, and is a babble of verbage. Like the hyperactive dog that chases every squirrel he sees, Lew can hardly keep his thoughts focused on the list of questions he has about SPRAY. Again it is such a sweet memory of sparks that once flew within me.

Then, there is Herb, a seemingly more calm kind of guy than Lew. Herb knows he wants a Marples. He fears he should have bought one a few months ago. Since that boat sold all he can do is hope SPRAY lives up to his dream. He is leaving his house at 3 am for the six hour drive to see us. Us, of course, is me and SPRAY.

Months ago there was an American who is living in Sweden. He flew to the states to give SPRAY a look. A sailboard friend, Tinho made the 5 hour drive to swampland. Although I was betting his wife still is not a sailor, I thought it might be nice if we could make the deal. Another guy and lady came for an inspection. This couple found no fault with the price or the boat. With bitter regret, though, an injury to the guy’s neck prevented even the slightest downturn of his head. It was painful to watch him get frustrated each time his eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas. Then, instantly he grabbed his head reacting to the pain.

Each of these people adds to the legacy of my John Marples designed, Steve Neal built, boyfriend maintained boat. Yea, I love my mobile home. Yea, I am living in my boyfriend’s house. And, yea, I am happy onboard coupleship. BUT, SPRAY, wow, she’s my love,,,

Rain, rain, finally got here

Finally, my mate assisted me with potentially fixing a leaky hatch. I say potentially because since we did the repair it has been dry as a bone in this usual moist climate. How are we to know if the leak is a thing of the past when no rain befalls us.

To fix the leak we used butyl tape around the underside of the glass where it touches the frame. Having never even heard of butyl tape before, I was impressed with how easy it is to measure, cut, and tape to the surface. Four separate pieces were measured to fit each of the four sides of the hatch. Tiny pieces were cut to fill in the sections where the lengthwise sides met the widthwise sides of the hatch.

One side of the butyl tape has a paper-like substance to keep it from sticking to itself while rolled up prior to use.  Equally important is that the paper-like substance allows you to put the butyl tape sticky side down against the surface you want stuck to something. Using our fingers we gently pressed paper-like side of the butyl tape onto the surface. Convinced we had a good seal we gently pulled the paper-like substance off the four sides of the glass. Then, using our fingernails we peeled back the paper-like substance from the tiny corner pieces.

Before the final step, we set the glass with the butyl tape stuck to it down onto the frame.  The butyl tape allowed time to maneuver the glass within the frame making sure it was a perfect fit. Using the palms of our hands we pressed the glass onto the frame. A bit of the gooey stuff (sealant) o0zed out the sides where the glass and the frame meet. The oozed sealant was less than the amount oozed when I use silicone from a caulking gun to do similar sealing jobs. Again, it looked nice and neat; almost professional…

Lastly we placed two small 1/4 inch flat boards on top of the glass with a 25 pound weight on each of the boards. This secured the hatch in place without putting undo pressure directly onto the glass. Knowing we would be out of town for three or four days the weights also abated any fears of a storm blowing the glass off its frame, should the butyl tape not hold.

After our 4 day absence I was excited, when we returned, to see the inside of the boat dry as it has ever been. There wasn’t even a sign of condensation. “Wow, this is great,”  I silently cheered. As I moseyed back to the house I stopped to check on my vegetable garden where I  noted the leaves on my tomato plants hanging in a limp.Along the edges of the garden box there was a 1/4 inch space between the dirt and the wooden fence like wall. “Oh, pooey,” I conceded. No wonder the boat was so dry, there probably hasn’t been a drop of rain while we were gone.”

Sinking into sulkhood, I went inside the house and ate a box of crackers. What else is there to do when disappointment strikes? For the next four days I barely paid a moment’s attention to my beloved SPRAY. Pray for rain, though, I did.

Finally, today at 4 pm, while waiting to go for a planned afternoon walk the thunder roared. Lightning struck. My pals and I cancelled the walk.  I reveled inside while the rain pummeled down and the sky lite up in a random pattern of thin, bolts of lightning. It will be an hour or so though til I get home and check the hatch. . .

So, you will have to stay tuned until then get back to a public wifi source as I am too cheap to pay for its use at the house….   🙂  Ay, the life of a retiree and sailor on leave from the sea.

 

 

Uh-oh Politically Inspired

Below is a copy of an e-mail I received to which I was compelled to comment. The regular print is what the sender wrote. My comments are in italics. I regret the extra lines around boxes. That is how the copy/paste presented itself.

I am the Democratic, Republican Liberal-Progressive’s Worst Nightmare. I am a White, Christian, Conservative, Tax-Paying American Veteran, Gun Owning Camper, Hunter, NRA Member. That’s me!

I am a Democrat, though more importantly I choose issues and values over party allegiance. I am white, jewish, female, tax paying, retired public educator, gun owning camper/sailor, writer, friend, sister, daughter, and lover.

I am a retired worker. I worked hard and long hours to earn a living.

After a 40 year career as a school counselor, who worked hard, long hours always putting the children’s needs before administration and parents. I earned a living and paid for all I have.

I believe in the freedom of religion, but I don’t push it on others.

I believe in the freedom of religion.

I drive a Winnebago Motor Home and ride Motorcycles.

I drive a VW jetta, have owned porsches, toyotas, pontiacs, chevrolets,  a motorcycle, and several sailboats.

I believe in American products and buy them whenever I can.

As a believer in a global economy I buy American products as well as non American products.

I believe the money I make belongs to me and not some liberal governmental functionary, Democrat or Republican, that wants to share it with others who don’t work!

I believe the money I make belongs to me. I also enjoy sharing it with our government to provide for infrastructure and safety. 

I’m in touch with my feelings and I like it that way!

Me, too.

I think owning a gun doesn’t make you a killer; it makes you a smart American.

I think owning a gun is a choice. Gun ownership does not make you a killer.   I do not judge others as smart or dumb.  People are what they are.

I think being a minority does not make you noble or victimized, and does not entitle you to anything.  Get over it!

I think generalizing is ineffective. 

I believe that if you are selling me a Big Mac or any other item, you should do it in English.

Learning a foreign language can be enlightening. Using a friendly introduction in a foreign language usually puts the newcomer to the English language more comfortable and willing to learn English. It is called ‘joining,’ i.e. meeting someone halfway. 

I believe there should be no other language option.

I believe limitations are limiting.

I believe everyone has a right to pray to his or her God when and where they want to.

I also believe everyone has the right abstain from prayer or belief in a God.

My heroes are Malcolm Forbes, John Wayne, Babe Ruth, Roy Rogers, and Willie G. Davidson, who makes the awesome Harley Davidson Motorcycles.

My heroes are the people who go beyond their fears to take healthy risks and who value a monogamous relationship with another human being or people who are happily living an independent lifestyle (single). Dee Caffari, Hilary Clinton, Oprah Winfrey, Florence Arthaund are among my heroines. 

I don’t hate the rich. I don’t pity the poor.

I only hate what I can’t figure out how to do or get. I only pity myself on occasion when feeling betrayed.

I know wrestling is fake and I don’t waste my time watching or arguing about it.

I know wrestling has a fixed outcome. Sometimes I still enjoy watching the show. What is there to argue? I also enjoy a friendly wager.

I’ve never owned a slave, nor was I a slave. I haven’t burned any witches or been persecuted by the Turks, and neither have you!

I have never owned a slave, nor was I ever a slave. I haven’t burned or hurt anyone intentionally, nor have I been persecuted by anyone. I have been discriminated against with regard to pay on at least two occasions and I have been a victim of crime. 

I believe if you don’t like the way things are here, go back to where you came from and change your own country! This is AMERICA. We like it the way it is and more so the way it was, so stop trying to change it to look like Russia or China, or some other socialist country!

I believe if you don’t like the way things are here, do what you can to instill an evolutionary change for the good of all. We have the best country. It will never look like Russia or China. Just look at the map. There are things in America I don’t like. It’s like any relationship, it is not perfect, but it is better than alternatives. 

If you were born here and don’t like it… you are free to move to any Socialist country that will have you. I believe it is time to really clean house, starting with the White House, the seat of our biggest problems.

I agree there are things in our government that are unfavorable. It is the best system I know of.

And, again, I say take evolutionary action to slowly make changes for the good of all.

I want to know which church is it, exactly, where the Reverend Jesse Jackson preaches, where he gets his money, and why he is always part of the problem and not the solution? Can I get anAMEN on that one?

 I agree I wonder where a lot of people get their money.

I also think the cops have the right to pull you over if you’re breaking the law, regardless of what color you are, but not just because you happen to ride a bike

And, no, I don’t mind having my face shown on my driver’s license. I think it’s good. I agree. Police are employed to pull you over if you are breaking the law.

I think if you are too stupid to know how a ballot works, I don’t want you deciding who should be running the most powerful nation in the world for the next four years.

Interesting point.

I dislike those people standing in the intersections trying to sell me stuff or trying to guilt me into making ‘donations’ to their cause. Get a job and do your part to support yourself and our family!

I  agree with you on this. I especially despise the cheerleaders and similarly attired folks selling car wash tickets. Those horribly fattening, overpriced girl scout cookies and boy scout popcorn and candy need to go. Teach these kids how to help an elderly neighbor landscape their yard, or carry out their trash, clean their cafeteria tables, sweep the classroom floors, pick up trash around the neighborhood and other helpful deeds would bring more good than selling unhealthy food or ‘sex’ (as in young girls in skimpy outfits at the car wash)…

I believe that it doesn’t take a village to raise a child, it takes a man and woman.

It takes a responsible person, whether it be a man and/or a woman. Teachers, doctors, librarians and other non-family members add value to children’s lives as well.

I believe ‘illegal’ is illegal no matter what the lawyers think!

Agreed, although verbage is subject to interpretation. 

I believe the American flag should be the only one allowed in AMERICA! If this makes me a BAD American, then yes, I’m a BAD American.  If you are a BAD American too, please forward this to everyone you know.

Hmmm, what about those cute little flags people fly on their lawn. Or, do you mean no other country flags are to be flown? What about the rebel flags?

We want to return our country to the values it was founded on, and prospered under for over 200 years!

200 years ago the woman’s right to vote was NOT valued, women in the workforce was NOT valued, and slavery was valued. I don’t think gays and lesbians were allowed in the military. I disagree we need to return to those values. 

My Country, I hope this offends all illegal aliens.

Is it just your country, or all of ours. My paternal great grandma was a Russian immigrant, and my maternal grandparents immigrated from England. 

My great, great, great, great grandfather watched and bled as his friends died in the Revolution and the War of 1812.

My great, great, great grandfather watched as his friends died in the Mexican American War.

My great, great grandfather watched as his friends and brothers died in the Civil War.

My great grandfather watched as his friends died in the Spanish-American War.

My grandfather watched as his friends died in WW I.

My father watched as his friends died in WW II and the Korean War.

I watched as my friends died in Vietnam , Panama and Desert Storm.

My son watched and bled as his friends died in Afghanistan and Iraq.

None of them died for the Mexican Flag.

Everyone of them died for the American flag.

You obviously have a family dedicated to fighting for our freedom and the freedom of others. For that I am grateful. 

Texas high school students raised a Mexican flag on a school flag pole, other students took it down. Guess who was expelled the students who took it down.

I would need to read/hear more about this.

California high school students were sent home on Cinco de Mayo because they wore T-shirts with the American flag printed on them.

Where did you read this? What is the name of the school and the town in California?

Enough is enough!

Yes, sir, enough is enough,,,,I can’t believe I responded to your rhetoric. It is your generalizations that compelled me to respond.

This message needs to be viewed by every American; and every American needs to stand up for America .

It might be nice if every American read your verbage, but it is not necessary. Food and shelter are necessary. Education and compassion are also nice

We’ve bent over to appease the America-haters long enough.

Who is we?  I need facts. 

I’m taking a stand.

Standing is good for your legs, in fact standing on one foot will actually strengthen you calf muscles. Sharing your thoughts are also healthy.

I’m standing up because of the hundreds of thousands who died fighting in wars for this country, and for the American flag.

What do you propose as a substitute for war?

If you agree, stand up with me.

I agree (metaphorically stand) with some of what you say.

And shame on anyone who tries to make this a racist message.

AMERICANS, stop giving away Your RIGHTS!  Let me make this clear! THIS IS MY COUNTRY!

Wow, I thought this was OUR great country!

This statement DOES NOT mean I’m against immigration!

I understand and agree immigration, like other endeavors should be done within the legal limits of the law. 

YOU ARE WELCOME HERE, IN MY COUNTRY, welcome to come legally: There you go again, in YOUR country. I thought I was a part of the American country,

1. Get a sponsor

2. Learn the LANGUAGE, as immigrants have in the past!  In many cases it was the children of the immigrants who learned the language by attending public school, a method for ‘joining the newcomers.’  Back in those times many of the woman stayed home cooking and cleaning and had little occasion to mingle with other English speaking folks. They let their children interpret for them.

3. Live by OUR rules!

4. Get a job!

5. Pay YOUR Taxes!

6. No Social Security until you have earned it and Paid for it!

7. NOW find a place to lay your head!

If you don’t want to forward this for fear of offending someone, then YOU’RE PART OF THE PROBLEM!

I am not going to forward this because most of my friends don’t read this type of jargon. 

We’ve gone so far the other way, bent over backwards not to offend anyone. What other way? The way in which women are paid less for same job a man is paid, the way in which slavery was legal, the way in which alcohol was prohibited?

Only AMERICANS seems to care when American Citizens are being offended! Not true, I have been in several other countries where the people demonstrate the utmost respect for Americans and indeed envy our life here in the good old USA.

WAKE UP America!

If you do not pass this on, may your fingers cramp!

Tsk-tsk, being a karmatic believer I hereby warn that what you bestow on others just may come back to you, better massage your fingers.

Glad to share our ideas. 

A Clean Boat is a Happy Boat

There she sits. At the end of the dock. From the house I can see her. With but a ripple on the water as the tide abates, her stoutly physique beckons me to sail. In the early morning and late afternoon, I admire her potential and her past. Aye, but for the emotional scar that has yet to heal I do what I can to keep her clean. Bleaching the mildew, cleansing the bowl, pumping fresh water, and even cooking on her stove. She may be settled at the dock waiting for a buyer, but she is still mine, a very  proud find.DSCN3262.jpg

No man, no woman,  can take what she has given me away. Even when she leaves my side, my heart will crave the brave soul who once sailed away. Just give me the strength to keep her looking fresh. To tend to her needs as best I can. N’er was a love greater than the joy SPRAY has given to me. So, I will keep her clean, as clean I can while continuing to risk going to sea alone. For a beggar I am not, nor ever will be. If you want to sail or just help me out then hither come yonder.  Or congeal your fear, dig your heels in,  push me away whatever you need. It really doesn’t matter. Our lives will go on,,,,with a clean boat at the dock.

 

 

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