Antigua: insurance and change
Antigua: insurance and change
7:00 a.m. but I’ve been up for three hours. Had to row Carol ashore to catch an early flight. We had arranged for Alex, the same driver I used to go to the airport to met her flight, to meet us at the dinghy landing at 5:00 a.m. He seemed reliable and was.
Fortunately the wind was light and the row easy.
Carol returns to Chicago, where it is below freezing and snowing.
Yesterday afternoon I rowed us in to the small white sand beach off which we and about a dozen other transient boats are anchored. I don’t spend much time on beaches any more and it was pleasant to walk on the sand at water’s edge and feel the surge wash over our feet.
Carol swam there. I waited until we were back at the boat and snorkeled to check out the bottom.
I had already cleaned a host of goose-neck barnacles from near and mostly above the waterline from the dinghy. There were some still on the hull deeper down, but the bottom was remarkably clean. A little weed is starting to grow in a few places, but no hard growth; and the prop and shaft, which were coated by the painter who works out of the boat yard in Opua with some unknown to me substance, are clean. Although I did pay a diver to clean the bottom in Durban and I don’t know what he removed, this is remarkable after a year and 15,000 miles. I’ll probably dive again and remove the few remaining goose-necks before I sail to the Virgin Islands; but it wouldn’t matter if I waited. From the way THE HAWKE OF TUONELA was sailing I knew the bottom must be fairly clean. Barring the unexpected, this will be a circumnavigation without a haul-out.
On one of our trips ashore this week I took a jerry can and brought back 4 ½ gallons of diesel. That was enough to replace what I used in the 6,000 miles from South Africa and top up the tank.
I also spent some time on the Internet checking out the British and U.S. Virgin Islands at Jimmy Cornell’s useful www.noonsite.com. At least something good has come from the ARC.
I found that the BVI have recently added a number of fees for cruising boats. They aren’t excessive, but they are obnoxious; so I’m going to go directly to the U.S. Virgin Islands. I need to buy some boat equipment, including a replacement solar panel; order freeze dry food from the U.S., and see a doctor about a possible skin cancer. I have had such before. And I know I am repeating myself, but take care of your skin, particularly if you are young. I didn’t.
I also happened to see on Noonsite that all yachts in Europe are now required to have insurance. I wasn’t going to sail there, but doubt if I could. I have liability insurance in New Zealand, which costs about $200 a year and is required to go into marinas, something I don’t much do; but no one wants to insure a 30 year old boat, a single-hander, or all waters. Insurance is part of the entire failed economic system that I abhor and opted out of years ago. The idea that I have to have permission from an insurance company is antithetical to the freedom that sailing means to me.
Sunny with a little less wind so far this morning. I’m at a bit of a loss with Carol’s absence even after so brief a visit. Not sure what I’m going to do today. Very much hope the rigger gives me my shroud on Tuesday, so I can be on my way.
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Just after sunset.
A fine day, with only trade wind clouds.
I rowed ashore before noon to have lunch, Internet, and get some water.
My larger water tank nominally holds 35.5 gallons. Air can get trapped in the tank and reduce that, but it lasted for the entire passage from South Africa to here.
My smaller tank holds 22.5 gallons. In my week here I have used the remnant of the bigger tank, all the smaller tank, and emptied the two five gallon jerry cans I have aboard. True that Carol was here part of the time. The increase came mostly shaving and fresh water showers every day and washing dishes in fresh rather than salt water. Still a striking difference.
I showered in late afternoon, then sat on deck with a gin and tonic--actually two--and watched the sunset. I love being on the water. Watching the changing light, the deepening shadows on the clouds, the birds hunting, feeling the wind against my skin, feeling the motion of the boat. Those of you who live ashore may have the illusion of stability. If you are in California or Japan or a good many other places, the Earth disabuses you of that illusion from time to time. Parmenides said change is not possible. That was a logical construct. Heraclitus said everything is change, you can’t step into the same river twice. Heraclitus was right. Everything is change and motion. Those of us who live on water feel that every moment.
I can’t say it too often: being on a boat, being on the water, brings a smile to my face and joy to my heart.
Sunday, March 29, 2009