two year liveaboardaversary (and postscript on sleazy captains)

Thursday marked two years since the pets and I moved aboard. I've heard most liveaboards only last a year and a half before they give up, frustrated, and move back ashore. I feel like I should be so much farther along on all the projects, but nonetheless it doesn't occur to me at all to move ashore. Ambrosia is the only home I've ever owned, the only place that has been truly mine.

practicing my sugar skull makeup for halloween

So, what next? I am somewhat loathe to state any plans because people relish pointing out when one doesn't achieve the deadline or follow the stated plan. But I'm just drawing really broad brush strokes right now and I don't owe anyone apologies or explanations if they change. In the most general sense my plan is that of most every liveaboard I've met: to sail off to that mythical destination called South. For some that's the Carolinas. Or St. Augustine. Perhaps it means Ft. Lauderdale, Miami, or the Keys. For many it also means the Bahamas and the Caribbean. In my case I can see myself heading home to Miami for a bit, on to Key West to look for work fishing or slinging drinks. Ideally, taking a few months to hop around the Bahamas; if I find remote work, perhaps the island-hopping is indefinite.

While I have a few close friends in Annapolis there is nothing to hold me here. I don't know that the prospects for work are any better anywhere else, but they are very meager here, so "career," whatever that is supposed to be, certainly doesn't tie me down. In the end, I'd like to leave the US entirely and for good. I think it will take some time to find a job overseas and secure a visa that lets me emigrate, but this is no longer a land of opportunity and I need to find someplace else to get a chance to start over and build a life. In the meantime, I may as well take advantage of having a slip that includes electricity until Spring. I have work to do on the hard, but don't expect to have the funds to get hauled before winter sets in here. Thus, my thinking is that I'll leave Annapolis and initially head for an area where yard rates are more reasonable and spend a bit of time on the hard making repairs and upgrades before continuing down the ditch, heading South, wherever that is. 

I had thought I'd have contract work in DC for the next few months and while it's a terrible grind commuting four hours round-trip, I would just try to keep my head down and save money. I need to save up a lot for the repairs and upgrades I need aboard, and more urgently the pup dog needs an $800 surgery to remove a rotten tooth. But of course the project I was working on that was slated to last two to four months instead lasted just seven working days. It gets tiring being down to the last penny all the time, but at least I'm not trapped in a horrible marriage or slaving away in an evil law firm. Though I'm poor and have little hope of that ever changing, I'll take the strain of poverty any day over the life I was trapped in before.

As the situation quickly deteriorated on my trip to the Cooks, I didn't dish all the details in real time. So, here's the postscript on sleazy captains and the sordid tale of my brief visit to beautiful Aitutaki.

Regrettably, I doubt I will be willing to crew for any single guys for quite a while. I have been too trusting and too generous in thinking guys who are wildly outside of my age-range and/or seriously not my type understand that and won't be sleazy. And even if a guy is of an age I might consider, that doesn't mean I'd have any interest in sleeping with him. What part of the 30-second rule is so hard to understand? I guess I just have to be rude and tell guys bluntly as soon as I meet them, "Dude, I am never going to sleep with you. If you still want to have a drink, hang out, sail, fine, but you have been friend-zoned, period." Perhaps I'd be willing to crew with a couple making a passage, but I've even had bad experiences (though not yet when sailing) with what appear to be swinger couples with an agenda just like the creepy solo guys. Maybe I have to find a nice gay couple to crew with so I know the guys really don't have any agenda with me. I still want to be able to work on a fishing charter, but after the last charter gig I will definitely have to bluntly tell the captain that he'll lose a hand if he lays a finger on me. I know there are decent guys out there, but the sleazebags sure do give all guys a bad rap.

As for the recent trip, I absolutely never thought the captain had any expectations since he's plainly too old for me, so incredibly not my type (which I also explicitly told our mutual friend), and he knew I quit the fishing boat because of the handsy old captain. I wasn't sure if he was either trying to or did hook up with our mutual friend, but he referred to her as an "ex" to someone in conversation, which surprised me. In the Cooks he was constantly trashing her and her boyfriend, saying how jealous the guy was that he was there, and how it was a nightmare staying with her, what a disaster it was staying on her boat. This from a guy with zero personal hygiene and no working head on his boat; ugh. But he'd definitely like to get his hands on some of her boyfriend's money since the captain is broke, in debt, and living off credit cards. He was scheming how to get the boyfriend to invest in his daysail / fishing charter in the Cooks; hopefully the guy will steer well clear of the captain and not get scammed. 

So, how did the trip unfold?

When I arrived in Aitutaki on Monday and we got to the house, the captain showed me a little twin bed, which he said I could use, then showed me the big bed where he sleeps, and said I'm also welcome to sleep there. I actually laughed out loud at that suggestion and made it clear I'd be on the twin alone. That was such a ridiculous proposition that I mostly took it as a joke but that was the first indication that he might have expectations beyond the crew and cook role I had signed on for. It was cool at night in Aitutaki and I asked about a blanket. The captain said there was only one blanket so if I wanted to use it I had to sleep in the bed with him. I said that's nonsense and took the blanket. He bitched and moaned the next evening about how cold he was and wanted the blanket back. I argued that there couldn't seriously be only one blanket in the whole house and to find something. He took the good blanket and gave me a light bedspread he found in another room. Fine. Being old and highly unattractive is unfortunate, but not a character flaw. Being a manipulative sleazebag is a serious character flaw and pretty much sums that captain up.

Tuesday we had to run all over the island with a borrowed pick-up buying groceries and hauling things to the boat. He was supposed to return the truck the night before and when we ran into the owner of the truck the guy was pretty pissed off and told the captain to move all his stuff out of a house where he was storing things. The captain ended up just bad-mouthing the guy the rest of the day and decided to keep the truck all day and not move out his stuff. How he would have ever fit all the junk he has onto that catamaran anyway is a mystery and he certainly was no where near being ready to sail to Tonga. 

The captain only appeared to have three "friends" on the island after some six months: (1) the American ex-pat guy he borrowed the truck from, who didn't exactly seem to like the captain; (2) a Samoan guy married to a local but who was out of town for an extended trip; and (3) a local auto mechanic who always looked very annoyed by the captain any time we went by there to borrow things or use his shop. The captain would put on a front of being buddies to anyone we came across and as soon as they were gone he'd be bad-mouthing them or gossiping about them. The actual locals never seemed genuinely friendly to him and likely the only people who really tolerated him were outsiders who had happened to marry a local.

It must have been Wednesday morning when the Samoan guy's son told the captain that they had a plan to get the island council to approve him to stay. The plan was for the captain to sign half his boat over to the Samoan and/or the son and be partners in the business so the council would consider the application to be made by a local. Personally, I'd think that was a steep price, giving up half your business and boat to be able to stay. But I guess if it's the place you really love and want to be, it'd be worth it. Ah, but it turns out the captain has a different plan. He said that whatever paperwork they did in the Cooks saying he'd signed anything over would be irrelevant because he wouldn't be changing the ownership documentation with the US Coast Guard, so after a few years he'd just sail away and the locals wouldn't get anything. So, one of the few people he was supposedly friends with and he'd happily screw him over once he got what he wanted. Maybe they were both planning on screwing each other over, but it was pretty clear the captain had no moral compass whatsoever. I feel so sorry for Aitutaki if the island council approved him for a business. He'll just milk the place and the tourists for everything he can and then move on. 

On Wednesday the captain was being pissy and I suspected perhaps he was mad that I wasn't sleeping with him. He would constantly be in my personal space and trying to touch me, which I really hate. When he came back from lunch on Wednesday he left me on the dock when he took the dink to the boat, and that was just the beginning of the snippy, petulant behavior. It was Wednesday or Thursday evening that he cornered me, put his arm around my waist, and said he "wasn't opposed to some female companionship." Eewwww. I pushed him away and told him he was totally in the friend-zone, which definitely pissed him off. Thursday evening I was going to try to watch the traditional dance at the Tamanu resort, but the captain's inability to ever stop talking or invading my personal space was too annoying and I called it a night by 9:00pm. 

It was pretty clear by Friday that the captain planned to stay in Aitutaki so I had been trying to find another boat to join to sail on to Niue and Tonga, or even Auckland if possible. Unfortunately, not having a cell phone and very limited Internet access made it too difficult to connect and coordinate with the few other boats in the harbor. Friday night we went to a local bar, Crushers, with a little dance floor inside and picnic tables in the sand outside. As obnoxious as the captain was, I had just been trying to slide away from him whenever he got in my space and just bit my tongue for the sake of being peaceable. Walking to Crushers, however, I had had it. He kept touching me, goofing off, rambling on, and doing anything he could to get attention. I finally told him that being around him is like babysitting an 8-year-old, to please just shut the fuck up and walk. 

Naturally, he was all piss and vinegar but once we were at Crushers he was acting nice because he wanted people to think we were together. I did whatever I could to not have to sit next to him and was relieved when Mary and Patrick, a couple from another boat in the harbor, arrived and I could chat with them. Mary clearly felt bad for me being stuck with the captain. Mary and I were on the dance floor and a local guy came up and asked if I "was the girl running on the island [that] morning." Yes, indeed, the one and only runner on the island, that was me. When I was dancing the captain came up and was trying to dance with me and I kept evading him and finally had to just yell at him to get the fuck away from me. The owner of the bar invited Mary, Patrick, and I up to a rooftop deck where a few other people joined us and we hung out for hours having an impromptu jam session. Thankfully, the captain didn't know where I was and went home. I ended up crashing at a friend's, a few houses down the road from the captain's rented house. How nice to have indoor facilities and a good night's sleep!

Saturday morning I strolled in and said good morning, but the captain was chilly. He left to work on the boat shortly after I arrived. I took some time to actually enjoy the beach a bit and then investigated the Internet access at the nearby resort, (where I met Carol and Nikki, both of whom ended up generously opening their homes to me in Aitutaki and Papamoa Beach, respectively). I figured it was going to be very difficult logistically to find another boat to join and researched flights to get to Auckland. It's much pricier to get from Aitutaki to Auckland than to get there from Niue or Tonga. Even though the captain was a scumbag, I would most likely have suffered through a passage if it looked like he was actually going to relocate. I wouldn't travel half-way around the world and leave someone hanging. But it was pretty clear at that point he planned to stay in Aitutaki. And while I wouldn't want to leave anyone short-handed, I don't know that I'd have felt safe trapped aboard with him for any length of time. 

When I got back to the house Saturday afternoon the captain had a total hissy fit. He said that it wasn't working out and he didn't think I was ready for 1000 miles of open ocean sailing. Complete bullshit, of course, which I told him. I've got more mental and physical aptitude in my pinkie than he'll ever have. (And it'd be 800 nm consisting of one day sail plus two 36-hour passages, but whatever.) But I agreed that we should definitely part ways as soon as possible. He said he thought I should fly out on Monday. He lied about the cost for a ticket to Auckland and belly-ached about it, trying to push it off on me. He said I should just make something up to qualify for the travel insurance to fly back to the States early. He explicitly told me to commit insurance fraud. Wow. I told him I'm obviously not going to do that.

I headed back to the nearby resort for happy hour and some more Internet access. Nikki asked if I'd found a boat and when I said I hadn't, she generously invited me to stay at their house in the Bay of Plenty when they got back to New Zealand. The locals were insistent that the captain had to pay for my ticket to Auckland and seemed pretty disgusted that he was trying to push it off on me. I asked about a cheap hotel for the following night, but Carol invited me to stay at her home instead. I dreaded going back to that house with the captain, but thankfully it was the last night I had to put up with him.

On Sunday morning the captain was under the gun to move out of the little house and onto his boat. I told him that I just needed my plane tickets to Auckland and I had a place to stay that night, so we could just part ways as soon as he handed me the tickets. He was clearly pissed off at me, and then the real reason he wanted me gone came out. He went into a tirade about how it was totally "disrespectful for me to be sleeping with someone else when I was living under his roof." I burst out laughing. How completely ridiculous. We were roommates, period, sharing a little rented shack. I'm an adult American woman, no one makes rules for me and no one owns me. Even a really stupid American guy should know that. He was acting as if we were married and I'd had an affair. This guy is seriously disconnected from reality. There's not a universe in which I would have ever dated him but somehow he created that little fantasy world in his head. He went on about how all the locals are laughing at him and talking behind his back about it, blah, blah, blah. And the really funny thing about it: I didn't actually sleep with anyone there, though I certainly could have. He stormed off on his little scooter to get online and find plane tickets.

I packed all my things up and hid out at the resort. I obviously wanted to minimize the amount of time I had to be around him. I managed to just pop back to the house and get the flight confirmation numbers from him and when I returned later to get my bag he had left. Naturally, he got me the very most inconvenient flights possible just to be a jerk. Oh, well. The girl who arrived to clean the house said that last time he left it was "very messy," but I told her I had cleaned the kitchen and swept the floors, so it shouldn't be too bad. Carol picked me up and her family welcomed and spoiled me and made sure I got to the airport the next morning. 

Hopefully karma will deal the captain the hand he deserves. Although one very ugly American did his best to ruin my trip, I met countless amazing people, saw great sites, and enjoyed the adventure that presented itself, even if it wasn't the one I had planned. And in the end, I still think the world is my oyster. But perhaps it's best if I'm "the captain of my own ship," as my friend Mike likes to say, so I don't have to worry about any more sleazy captains.

kia orana

So, where has this adventure taken me? I've gone from Annapolis to Los Angeles to the South Pacific. 

Kia orana! Be well and welcome to the Cook Islands! 

the beach behind me in Aitutaki

I had planned to check a duffel and just carry on a small pack, but ended up needing to bring various additional gear and supplies for the trip (e.g., chartplotter, 5200, duct tape, and batteries), so I needed to carry on a gym duffel along with my small pack. The luggage became a stressor both in terms of sourcing and weight limitations. At 6:00PM the night before I left I was frantically digging through every locker trying to find my big black duffel bag to get packed. It was no where to be found. I had looked longingly at a blue-greenish Patagonia duffel at Fawcetts boat supply just an hour earlier, but thought I had my duffel and could ill afford to spend money on a bag when I need all my funds for the trip itself. But now Fawcetts was closed and I had little choice but to settle for whatever I could find at West Marine. I grabbed a huge gray West Marine duffel I found on sale and hurried back to the boat. 

I packed the large duffel and even though I had few clothes and shoes, it seemed to be getting heavier and heavier. Air New Zealand is very strict on baggage limitations and weight and the duffel was heavy and unwieldy. I tried to weigh it on my scale but there was no way to put it on the scale and read it. I culled my stash of 24 Clif Bars down to 6. I pulled out a couple bottles of sunblock and of bug repellent. My clothes and shoes would easily fit in the small gym bag, but I also needed my life jacket, snorkel gear, and foulies. I was very worried the bag would be over the 50-pound limit but it weighed in at just over 45 pounds, so I guess I could have held onto my Clif bars and sunblock after all. As I already mentioned, I pulled an all-nighter packing, organizing, doing laundry, and cleaning. I was literally doing the dishes the last 20 minutes before I kissed my cats goodbye and loaded pup dog and luggage in my friend's car (borrowed for my last-minute running around) and headed to his house to scoop him up as my ride to the airport.

It turns out that while the gray rubbery tarpaulin material the duffel is made of seems somewhat sturdy, the zipper pulls are the absolute cheapest crap you could imagine. At BWI I tried to unzip an outside pocket to stow the shoulder strap and the zipper pull broke right off. On arrival in the Cooks I popped into a restroom to wash my face and brush my teeth and on zipping the bag back up, there goes another zipper pull. Perhaps needless to say, I'll be demanding my money back from West Marine when I get back to Annapolis. 

Air New Zealand was a very pleasant and comfortable contrast to flying US domestic flights. I had a preferred seat, but still in basic economy class. Nonetheless, even with my legs fully outstretched only my toes reached under the seat in front of me. I wished I'd known dinner would be served, since I'd have skipped the outrageously pricey pizza and beer at LAX. (But then I'd have missed out on meeting Dan and Omar.) But I ate most of the dinner offering and enjoyed a couple glasses of complimentary New Zealand wine with my meal. I managed to get about 5 hours of sleep, listened to some podcasts, and then they served breakfast. The announcement went something like this: "Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls. Our cabin crew will begin serving breakfast shortly. You have a choice of omelette or fruit plate, served with freshly brewed coffee, assorted juices, and spirits for those of you brave enough to drink them at this hour of the morning."

Monday, circa 8:00AM: I'm currently sitting at the Rarotonga airport. I fly onward to Aitutaki in the afternoon. Our flight arrived early, at 5:30AM, and after clearing immigration and customs I waited for someone to show up at the Air Rarotonga counter to see if I could go ahead and check in and check my bag. He couldn't check me in, but better than that he offered to hold both the huge duffel and the smaller carry-on. I just have to return an hour before my flight to check in and get the carry-on back. Although it's overcast and raining, I'd still like to use this brief opportunity to see Raro, so now I'll be able to much more comfortably bus and walk around the island with just my small backpack. I pulled my foul weather jacket from the bottom of the duffel so I don't end up soaking wet. Prices I've seen so far, just here at the airport, are staggering. About $6 for a cup of regular coffee, about $12 for a sandwich. These are not sit down restaurants, just food stand shacks. I'm glad I ate and had coffee on the flight and I'm currently nibbling here and there on Twizzlers I bought in LA. I still need to find a Telecom office to buy  wifi credits, find the immigration office to pay a NZ$25 fee for my approval letter to enter, and hopefully I'll get to walk around downtown Avarua a bit and ride the bus the circumference of the island. Although I turned the cellular function on my phone off, some local carrier still grabbed onto my phone and T-Mobile sent me text messages warning that it would be $.50/text, $4.19/minute for calls, and $15/MB for web/email while roaming. Yikes!

Monday afternoon: I was trying to figure out where to catch the bus into town and a woman from Air New Zealand said it would come around past where I was but then asked where I needed to go. I told her I needed to get to Avarua and pay a fee at immigration. She explained where the office was and then just waved for me to follow her. I thought she was going to show me a better place to wait for the bus but she moved things around in her car and told me to get in. She pointed out where "downtown" mostly started, where I could go to get some wifi credit, where the bus should pass to go back, and then dropped me by the immigration office. I'm very blessed by the kindness of strangers in my life. I had to wait until immigration opened at 9:00AM, and it was the same officer I had had at the airport. I had taken out some cash at the ATM so at least I was able to pay the fee in New Zealand dollars. While she had been somewhat stern at the airport, she softened up as we chatted about the islands and fishing. She wanted to know what the fish I'd been catching, rockfish, was like and how we cook fish. I said most people grilled or broiled it, and she nodded, "ah, same as we do." I think Americans are not that common here because people seemed curious to ask me what America is like and how much it costs to fly here from there. A Kiwi here at the airport made a point to say he likes Americans, just not our policies, and that all the Americans he's met over the years have been good people. 

It drizzled, rained, and misted most of the morning so I was glad to have my foul weather jacket and its hood to keep me dry. I walked the length of downtown a couple of times, window shopping, getting a credit for 150MB of data for NZ$10, taking photos, and checking out Polynesian Tattoo. (Hey, it's a souvenir that doesn't take up space on the boat.) As I headed back toward my starting point near Boogie's Burgers, My path intersected with a floppy-haired glacierologist who had been sleeping in the seat next to mine waiting for our flight from LA. I made a comment about our having made it a long way from Los Angeles and we began chatting and walking. We ended up sitting down for lunch and a couple of hours flew by before I knew it.  He was taking a few days in the Cooks before heading to a conference about Antarctica in New Zealand. Small world that it is, he is also a trail ultrarunner, though surely faster and more accomplished than I. It was fun to hear someone else's passion for that kind of running and now that the sun has come out, hopefully he's enjoying a hike up into the island. I had to get going and he needed to get to his hotel, so I gave him a card and told him to email me sometime. Hopefully, he'll drop me a note about some great trail race adventure he's having and perhaps fate will have us bump into each other out on a run someday. I really have to remember to register for my Seashore Nature Trail 50K when I get back to Annapolis.

Wednesday, circa 6:00AM: As soon as I landed in Aitutaki on Monday afternoon we had to head to the dock and move the boat out into the little harbor because a ship would be coming in with supplies and the container barge would need the dock. A Swiss cruiser also needed to move, so we helped each other tie off sterns to coconut trees ashore and drop anchors off the bow. At one point we needed to shuttle back and forth by dinghy and the Swiss guy got out of his dink to get on his boat and move it. Suddenly I realized I was the one who had to shuttle the dink back to the other shore. Except that I've only rowed my old dinghy, and never ran a tender with an outboard. So I was pretty much having heart palpitations as I would push the tiller the wrong direction and turn the throttle handle too far or too fast and was zig-zagging haphazardly around the tiny harbor trying to get the hang of it and get over to the boat. It was embarrassing and a little scary, but the captain said it was the best way to learn--on someone else's boat! 

We finally made it to the little house by the beach where we're staying for $10 a night until Sunday, when we have to be out. If the boat isn't ready to go at that point, we'll at least have to have it in shape to stay aboard. Yesterday morning I finally managed to get a shower. I don't have to worry about the hot water running out since there isn't any to begin with. I definitely wasn't going to stand under the cold water when I didn't have to, but it wasn't too bad. Today I will try to use a solar shower as well to have some warmer water to rinse off with, but I don't think the solar shower will have much time to heat up since I'll be heading out for a run at sunrise and need to run though the shower an hour later. The day yesterday was full of running around in a borrowed truck getting groceries, dropping things off at the boat or the house, and seeing the entire perimeter of the island. Groceries are very expensive and the selection is very limited. Prices varied wildly; a cabbage was NZ$5.50 at one store and double that at another. Only one place had cheese. I saw blocks and blocks of Colby at another shop and got excited, until I saw the sign that said "Cheese is NOT for sale!" We picked up a bicycle that I'll use to get around. Today we have a lot of work to get done on the boat but I really need to get a run in, so the captain will head to the boat to get started and I'll bike down shortly after so I can get in a run. Down at the dock there should be wifi access, so hopefully I'll be able to post this! Not sure I'll be able to include many photographs (I've taken a lot), since the wifi access is by data not time. It was $10 for 150/MB credit from the Telecom shop. So, the video I shot and lots of photos I've taken may not get posted up here until later. Rates are still high but better in Tonga, and at the end of the trip in New Zealand I think access and prices will be more akin to the US.

Wednesday, circa 10:00AM: Managed to get in a good 6 mile run this morning, take a cold shower and walk 40 minutes to the dock. The bicycle seat was a couple inches too high to be remotely tolerable, and I have hated being on a bike ever since a bad accident in law school. So, I hoofed it, and happily spotted the place that sells delicious cheese bread, so that fueled the later half of my walk.

Wednesday, circa 1:30PM: At last! Internet at last! It is incredibly difficult on the iPad to post photos. The blogger app lacks a lot of features I need but in Blogger via Safari, when I try to insert a photo or video it doesn't "see" any of the ones on my iPad. Arrgghhh! So, I'm going to try just putting a lot of photos in a stream in "the cloud" with a link for those who want to check out the photos. I'll try to have that in the next post.

NB: Please note that I try to get comments posted quickly (they are moderated due to the amount of spam comments that come through), but there may be significant delays while I'm out here due to my limited internet access. So, don't take offense if a comment takes a while to post.

For now, I'll leave you with this. But let me assure you, it isn't all fruity rum drinks and palm trees on this trip. Stay tuned...