Doug Faunt's Journal

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BOUNTY-At anchor, off West Palm Beach, Friday
Due to issues arising from our shore establishment, we have to hang on the hook about a mile from our destination for about 36 hours. We could have stayed in San Juan for the extra day and a half, if we'd known, but until yesterday afternoon, we though we were entering this morning. There's much anger aboard here, directed at that shore establishment.

I'll be arriving home at OAK about 6 PM PST on Sunday, having changed my flight last night.

As we were about 30 miles off of Miami yesterday, an owl landed on our deck. After a pause, it flew up to the end of the crojack, and hung on there for a bit until the wind and or forward speed apparently blew it off. It was trying hard to get back aboard, so the captain cut back the engines and the owl managed to hook on in the mizzen top. It was there at sundown last night, and we anchored out here just a short distance off West Palm Beach about midnight, so I hope it's made its way ashore by now.

We had a swimmer come out from the beach, and we invited him on board for a look around, and then a lift back to shore, so he wouldn't be late for his lifeguard job.
And then we had a visit from the Coast Guard with Border agents aboard, who looked though the entire ship, but have left without incident.

Miami was beautiful at night, with a big crescent moon hanging low over it- a perfect "Moon Over Miami" cover.

But we're all just hanging out here, killing time, after a bit of a push to get here, and our shore establishment would be a lot safer if they don't arrive until much of the crew has left.

Dinner at sea, from Lobscouse and Spotted Dog, Tuesday 6 bells
Last night's dinner was food as might have been served on the BOUNTY on its original voyage.
The salt cod and cheese were items I'd picked up in the Azores, and the salt beef, hard tack, pease porridge, and spotted dick were concocted from our usual supplies.

Our track on the chart-plotter was just about keyhole-shaped. It shows us turning hard starboard, out of the channel to the Bahama Banks, then drifting downwind, hove to, at an acute angle to the original track, then a circle which is us turning back to our original course.

BOUNTY 1300 EST Tuesday- ETA West Palm Beach, 0600 EST Friday
We're north of Cuba, south of the Bahama Banks, in the Old Bahama Channel (there is no New Bahama Channel), motoring mostly, somtimes the staysails are drawing too, at 5-6 knots.
The sea is smooth, the temperature moderate and rain squalls are few and far between.

We saw a Coast Guard cutter patrolling yesterday, who reminded our 4th mate (he of the Bligh tendencies) of the rules of the road. He'd been set up, though, by another boat who had responded to his radio call inappropriately. And one of our Diesels started spewing fuel this morning from a bad injector, but that's been fixed. However, that engine's starting battery is shot, so we have to use a pair of standard jumper cables to start it.

The crew spaces are being painted, so some are sleeping on 'tweendecks, and there are piles of their possesions everywhere.

Earlier I mentioned that we were going to 1/2 hour rotations between watch stations, which gave me the regular opportunity to take my trick at the helm right after I stood Cassie's trick at the wheel (and she'd do my boat check trick). That means that I am regularly "relieving myself on the helm".
-pause for laughter- OK, we've all been on the boat too long.

This is probably my last post from the boat, unless something special happens.

"All men shall be sailors, until the sea shall free them"
I certainly haven't been freed. We're just 15 miles north of the
Dominican Republic, heading NNW at about 6 knots under power.
The winds are forecast to be in our bow for the rest of our trip,
so all sails are furled and the yards are all braced sharp.
We'll be in Florida on Friday, apparently. And I'll be home for
Thanksgiving. Any one want to give turkey to a sailor?

We just did swim call, again, and I've now done my other goals-
I jumped from the tip of the jibboom (very nearly as high as the
tops), and I've dived from the channel at the base of the main
shrouds.

We did a number of man-over-board drills, and the last included
trying to get the big boat close enough, under sail, so we could
pick up someone in seas too bad to launch the small boat, and
with engine failure. Each attempt meant tacking a 170-foot
squarerigger three times in 12 minutes. I was at the helm for
all three times we tried it, and it was a VERY busy time. And we
were pretty successful. A concious and active swimmer could have
reached us the first two times, and the third time we were 4 feet
to windward of our target.

San Juan was great. A couple of us made the trip to the radio
telescope at Arecibo, with our local "friend of BOUNTY", who is
in a group that re-enacts the 1797 battle when 1000 Spanish
repelled a large British invasion force. That meant we were
fired upon as we arrived- unfortunately, we were not in a
position to fire back with our four cannon. The food was good,
and many chores were done. We left Thursday evening, since no
sailor leaves port on a Friday, and especially a Friday the 13th.
BTW, we also keep the pots in the galley hung top forward, to
catch more luck, and whistling is frowned upon.

And I've found what I want for a tattoo- a compass rose, on my
inner forearm. I need to research the customs and traditions to
see if there there are any considerations, and choose an exact
design, but after MANY hour's at the helm looking at the compass,
it'll be a good memento of this trip. It was actually inspired
by the one on the arm of our server at the Cafe Puerto Rico.
She's not been to sea, and unfortunately, we're headed in the
wrong direction to tempt her- she wants to go to Europe, not
Florida.

Sunday, almost 4 weeks from the Azores
We're a few hundred miles from San Juan, Puerto Rico, our definite destination. We're trying to set up a flying visit to the radiotelescope at Arecibo.

The last week has been mostly sleep, eat, stand watch- repeat.
We switch to the 8-12 watch tonight, which means I get to stand 3 watches in 24 hours.

The boat rolls!!! My legs are tired just from walking around.
She's noisy- I'm using earplugs to sleep, but no place, even aloft on the main crosstrees, is quiet.
And 'tweendecks, where my cabin is, is a cacophony of creaking. No wonder the captain is hard-of-hearing. We run a noisy generator all the time- daytimes the driving force is an all-electric kitchen, nighttime it's nav gear and lights.
We still have water restrictions in place, so I get a shower every other day and am doing hand-laundry (the washer hates rolling anyway). But we have to regularly switch off the watermaker in these tropical waters to keep from flooding the bilges with fresh!!
There's ONE sink for everyone (except dishes) and two really baddly designed toilets. The toilets are set on platforms with minimal clearance in front of the doors so you have to dance around the door to get it open or shut, so most of the males aboard don't bother with the doors. Me, I tend to pee in a bottle in my cabin and flush away the contents when it gets full. That saves walking through the rolling, dark, 'tweendeck open area at night, too.
The cabins need a few more amenities, too. There's a small chest of drawers, and a bunk, so anything you want to hand is in the bed with you as you roll around. And there's LOTS of space for shelves.
If I'd realized we had so much scrap wood on board, I'd have built a shelf, but it was only a few days ago the lumber was organized that I found that out. I did put up a bunch of hooks and screws for hanging things.
There's hope- the cabins should be improved this winter, so when she goes to the Great Lakes next summer, accomodations should be better.

Two people are leaving the boat in PR, so we'll be reorganizing the watch bill, and will be slightly short-handed. Me, I'm going to collect some more sea-time to West Palm Beach.

Next time, man overboard drills and short-tacking a full-rigged ship.

21 days at sea, and murmuring among the crew
BOUNTY 2 November, 08:46 local (three hours west of GMT), running downwind, West by North 1/2 N, 6 knots, 6 foot swells, 18-52' N 048-11'W, 21 days since we sunk the Azores astern.

0330, a couple of days ago in the bosuns store, well below decks. Only red lights are on and furtive figures are murmuring in the shadows-"quiet, it's the mate of the watch", so we withdraw further into the shadows. Mutiny? No (although there is disaffection aboard), but Halloween, and C watch is about to do a zombie takeover of the watch. A painter's filter mask without the filters alters the outline of a face, and even does a good job of changing the voice. Chains are carried, a noose decorates a neck, dry-erase markers are abused, a bag over the head is a bit scary (both for the wearer and observers) and we strike! Our leader's beard tickles when he bites, but we do cause one minor shreak of fear.

Later, a very expensive pumpkin is decorated with schools of fish, a few predator fish and a shark.
The windlass (covered) makes an appearance with two pair of legs (we would have thrown a horse overboard in the Horse Latitudes, as tradition calls for). Blind justice appears, wrapped in a sheet, with a parceling blindfold, a sword from "pirate days", and scales with pans being cocnut shells from some iced desserts picked up in the Azores.

Then Sunday, watches are dogged again (I'm now on 12 to 4, and wish I were asleep now). And change happens! Some of the mates and their watches are too chummy and set in their peculiar ways, so the 4 mates are going to rotate through the three watches (at least for a week). The 4th is striking to be Bligh, with strong technical skills, but no people skills. He's young, and ambitious, and a pain.
Another was a deckhand last year, and is learning the fine technical details, but gernerally is pretty good. The others are a couple with a long history with the boat, and are conflicted about being on this trip. They'd signed off, but were begged to come back for some of this voyage, but are doing the whole thing. We had one of the latter for our watch mate this morning, and she wasn't too bad. And she's agreed to give us all report cards when the week is over and she's had all three watches. She's been a kindergarden teacher in the past, so we have an idea of what to expect. In fact, a few of the deckhands give evidence of having failed that grade (one with a degree in finance).

But the disaffection is mostly concentrated on our shore-side establishment- she got the job by nepotism, here job is to communicate, and she apparently doesn't know how to. "Why won't the officals in Porto Del Garda speak English to me?", and the some of the email exchanges have been shared because they're a joke. She's now sharing her attention with a custom vitamin scheme (sounds bogus to me), so things are even worse now. She's due to be replaced, but for now.... I saw some evidence of this myself, but after starting to communicate with the officers here directly, I had little trouble. Some others did as well, others, who knows- they're not here.

Next time, why you don't want to be on this boat.

BOUNTY- no wind, 19-08'N 040-35'W, dusk and dawn
We saw a leaping Minke whale and a couple of satellites at dusk yesterday, and leaping fish and Maxfield Parrish colors in the sky at dawn today. I'm sore from wrestling with the helm to make a boat with bare steerage-way go the right direction. It's hot and we're proceeding under power.

Making up sails in the tropics
Wednesday, 28 October, 19-29'N 039-21'W (celestial fix, by sun sights), 5 knots
We made 90 NM in the noon to noon 24 hours, so PR is looking pretty unlikely, just due to time constraints. We're definitely ending up in West Palm Beach by Thanksgiving, though.
It's hot, when there are no squalls.

My apologies about contacting me- only people who are white-listed can send me mail at that address, and I think that means just brisingamen and Dan King (WNOLJ, but is on FB) can send me mail there. If Winlink policies are as I recall, I can only white-list you by sending email to your address.

We're setting extra sails using old sails in different ways. We have an old foresail bent on the crojack yard to be what should be called a mizzen course, even though the mizzen sail is a gaff-rigged fore-and-aft sail. But it's called a jacksail. We added "bonnets" to the foresail and mainsail (fore and main courses) by bending old sails to the bottom edge. They drag on the deck, but add some extra area (and provide a lot of shade). We've also made a studding sail (or st'u'n's'l, by pronunciation) to weather edge of the fore topsail. The boom and club for that are saplings, complete with bark and the marks of trimming branches) cut in Maine for a hack attempot to sail one of our small boats.

Time to get ready for watch.

Monday, again- the Tropic of Cancer
It's been a week of a hard watch schedule- you'd think 8-12 would be good, but it's not, as things are set up here. 'I'm now on 4-8, and it should be easier. We're still seeing lots of shooting stars (there was a report of another spectacular one last night), and satellites at dusk and dawn. I wish I'd brought stand-alone software so I could put in out position and time to find out what we're seeing. I can find out when we'll be seeing particular satellites, but it's too cumbersome and incomplete

We're sailing again right now, but we've switched back and forth several times from motoring to sailing. My watch set everything one day, took it all in the next, and reset it the next day, as things worked out. I ended up doing two hours of helm several days running, and then this morning on the new schedule, and a little short-handed, did helm, bow lookout, helm and helm. I'm far and away the least fit person on my watch, but am good on the helm (lots of practice), so it's right when we have lots of hard work to do for me to take the helm. We're still going SW, currently at at 3 knots from 20-52'N 036-48'W to try to catch the trades west. Puerto Rico is uncertain, which would mean clearing in at Miami for West Palm Beach, apparently, if we don't stop. We did about 800 nautical miles in the last week.

The captain's 60th birthday was yesterday, so we had a jelly roll and lots of cookies. The fresh fruit is gone, and all the strawberry jam. There's just a small amount of peanut butter left, so it's being kept at the main crosstrees. The few non-climbers don't care. Fresh (frozen) milk is being rationed, but reconstituted dry milk is abundant, and is an OK substitute, and my main source of potassium now.

We crossed the Tropic of Cancer, so people dressed as tropically as possible, being a Tshirt and lava-lava in my case- a harness is OK but slightly uncomfortable over just underwear, so I'm back to jeans. I brought some that needed patching, and have done that. And Mush the bear has a turkshead bracelet now, thanks to Cassie, an AB on my watch, to go with his knit watch cap.

You can send short messages to me at n6tqs@winlink.org, if you wish.

Beauty
In all the minutiae of everyday life, I've neglected the beauty of this trip.
There is little more beautiful than a square-rigger with all square sails set,
braced for a wind over the quarter. Even being in and among it, and aware of all the details, doesn't detract. And we get the ocean, glassy with 1-2 foot swells or white-capped, 4-6 feet swells, and coming aboard through the scuppers, it's ever-present, and magnificent. We have sun, squalls, planets, stars, more stars, even more stars, and shooting stars all the time. We've seen a moonbow, some really good sunsets and sunrises, and shooting stars that lit up the weather deck.

I have it easy- the rest of the deckies have 4 hours of work-party every day but Sunday- I, as the sole paying passenger (and I negotiated a substantial discount), get to do what I want. So I'm running the email system, for which I'm originally responsible; learning celestial navigation and radar, and generally being useful, but not for 4 hours a day.

Fwd: Monday, "Man Overboard"-this is a drill
20:00 UTC Monday 19 October

So the 8-12 watch seems to be a loser- I can't get a good nap in.
Maybe it'll get better.

On Sunday, one person stood watch in pajamas and another had his
bathrobe on. Since watchstanders wear climbing harness, it was a
little strange looking.

And today, we tossed a deckie overboard to see if he'd float
(actually, he jumped, with a little prodding). We already had the
small boat in the water, but the drill was to see how far we could
keep him in sight, or spot him- as in a real MOB situation. The
bottom line- don't fall overboard. We'll revise some procedures, and
have already put a smoke device at the helm to be tossed overboard,
along with the life ring with strobe and the bin full of survival
equipment. All those things are based on real-time knowledge of a
MOB- an unremarked MOB is most likely to be a lost person.

We're running downwind, so the boat is a pain to steer and rolls a
lot, but we're making distance at 5 knots- we're just about at 30N
030W headed SW. We can't just head west since we'd lose the wind soon.

Sunday, at 32 N 028 W, 5.5 kts SSW
It's a lazy Sunday- we're under sail again, from this morning's
midwatch- C watch's last for a couple of weeks. We dog the watches
again this afternoon, so we stand 12 to 4 and then 8 to 12, and that's
my watch's schedule for a week.

I mentioned readings of the Bible or the Articles of War for Sunday,
so we ended up with readings by Rebecca, one of the mates, from
Bowditch, a bible all of us aboard recognize. And the captain is using
the slight cloud layer to continue making a photo-journal of the
crew's tattoos. He was a semi-professional photographer for a bit in
his youth, and is creating an exhibition for the (probable) Palm Beach
stay. I get credit for suggesting the idea, but my page will say
"this page intentionally left blank".

We had swim call again yesterday (it's easy when there's no wind), and
I swam under the boat, with a 50 foot beam and 12 foot draft. I ended
up with a head-full of seawater, but it's mostly cleared up now.

Knives- several people are making knives from old files- I'm glad it's
not my grindstones they're using.

I'm doing a lot of tricks at the helm, since I'm still avoiding
boat-check if I can, which means I start at the wheel for an hour, and
then often trade for the last trick of the watch, too. We have 4
deckhands for five days and 5 for two (one of our deckies is the
relief cook), and the sequence is an hour at each of helm, nav (speed
measurement and position plotting), lookout, idle (which includes
checking the galley and heads for mess and minor cleaning if
necessary), and boat check. "idle" is skipped if there are only 4
deckies in the watch.

When we left Galway, I was wearing foulies over fleece over fleece for
the 20 to 24 watch, but last night I was in T-shirt and jeans for most
of three tricks on deck from 00 to 04.

"Cargoes"- formerly, you spotted a passing ship and maybe recognized
and/or spoke her, and from that you might get information about what
she was carrying and from where to where. And you plotted her bearings
to get course, speed and passing distance/ Now, you just look on the
AIS screen and it tells you all that and more- when she departed, her
ETA at her destination, and even her cargo. Ah well, it's safer this way.
----- End of Original Message -----

Horse latitudes and This American Life
Wew`re still sailing slowly south, here in the "horse latitudes".
They're basically the areas of unreliable winds above the northern trade winds, but it looks from the GRIB files and other weather information that the trade winds don't start until we get south to 20 degrees. We're currently averaging a bit above 2 knots, due south.

Does anyone reading this catch the This American Life podcasts and be willing to email next week's episode to me at my gmail account once we get to Puerto Rico?
You can contact me at n6tqs@winlink.org- that's also the address you can send comments to me- otherwise I won't wee them until we get to land again.

a 15 mile day
Update on previous- we've got steerageway, and the island has sunk below the horizon, OTOH, it looks as if it's going to be a 15 mile day.

Sorta left- Sao Miquel still in sight after 24 hours.
We're sailing, but just barely have steerage way. We're not behind "schedule" so we'll continue this for a bit.

Not only did I pack enough clothes so I can get away with one wash on board (you must sacrifice a shower for a wash, and you only get a shower every other day), I packed a BUNCH of electronics-
computer, PDA (with lots of ebooks), MP3 player, GPS, VHF/UHF ham radio transceiver (for satellite operation), digital voice recorder (backup for MP3 player and for recording satellite contacts), pocket shortwave radio, active headphones, and camera, as well as batteries and chargers for all of the above.
I also brought along power distribution bits, since I knew there are about 1 1/2 outlets per cabin.

The crew all carry, on their belts, knives and spikes, at a minimum- most carry flashlights, and a few have multi-tools, too. They range from fancy store-bought rigs (one person), to repurposed kitchen knives and railway spikes. I have mine, too- a small flashlight and a fancy Leatherman.
We all have lanyards on everything, so we won't drop them over the side or on someone's head while aloft. Many of the carrying pouches are made by the carrier of leather or sailcloth, and one decky from Scotland has a pocket for a fan, since it's already warm here for her.

The 12-4 watch is a bit hard, but since we changed timnes zones by TWO hours when we cast off, it's not as bad as it might be.

It's the leavin' of Porto Delgada.... (doesn't scan, does it?)
but not much. I'm ready to be at sea again, as are most of us, to some degree.
We'll advance the clocks 1 hour as soon as we take in our lines tomorrow, 9AM local (and GMT).
I'll have bacalhau for dinner tonight at the same restaurant ("Mercado do Peixe"), and I have a 9 kilo wheel of cheese to eat and share on the trip across. We tasted several and this one was a clear winner.

They quote fuel prices here in cubic meters, which is the same as a kiloliter. We took on 4.
I was sorry to hear of the death of a friend.

Getting ready to leave
We are departing tomorrow, and will probably spend a month getting to Puerto Rico. We're all laying in supplies- I've got bread in the freezer and cans of baked beans under my bunk for late night meals on the 12-4 watch. I'm hoping to find some good cheese and chocolate today, since it's too wet to hire scooters and ride around.
I had another meal at the "Fish Market" restaurant (Portuguese translation later), and it was much more fulfilling- limpets and soft cheese for starters, and grilled rockfish for main.
And we went to some of the volcanic tourist spots here, as well as a tea factory. The tea factory was almost a steampunk dream, with much 19th century machinery, although the main power sources were some early 20th century electric motors, driving jack shafts. Much work is till done by hand, though.

Current Mood: cheerful

my lunch in Ponta Delgada-

Yes, barnacles.

Current Mood: accomplished

Update- 8 Oct 0147 GMT- PR maybe
We have a piece of 3" diameter line around one shaft, so are proceeding on one engine, toi arrive for a Friday, 1530 bus tour of the island, laid on by the mayor.
And there's a possibility of a few days in Puerto Rico.
Tramping around the Atlantic, we are.