Friday 11 August 2017

Crossroads in the Pacific

Umm, perhaps we better wake the Captain!
Water spout in action.

I am weary that my posts seem to be of the haphazard, high drama nature. I assure you this is not our intention, we would much prefer to live a "boring" existence that nobody particularly cares to read about (dont get me wrong, I really appreciate I have readers out there). We really do try to research all manner of things and gather as much information as possible from others. I suppose it comes with the territory of going to new places and having little experience.
So I'll pre-warn you, unfortunately, this post is no different...new experiences, different dramas!
We had planned to take up a mooring at the Balboa yacht club after the canal transit, for a night, almost under the bridge of the Americas where we could get ferried to land. Our new concern was the 5-6 metre tides on this side, (as opposed to approx. .5m Caribbean side), making sure we anchor out far enough, then the prospect of paddling a long way into shore with no outboard. One of the linehandlers was quite persistent that we should drop them off at La Playita where it would be free to offload them instead of Balboa for the $20 fee. So rather than picking up a mooring ball, dropping off linehandlers with launch, resting and celebrating our canal success, we agreed, as we had planned to anchor at the end of the 6km long causeway eventually anyway.
Salem's shot looking across the causeway to Panama city.

However, on approaching, we had some concerns about the anchorage with only 3 boats in it. The guy was now saying Playita was on the other side of the island. Having looked at my cruiser guide many times, I had doubts and brought it out to confirm. We decided to try and drop them off around the other side of the island, at the marina but as we came around, the wind was suddenly strong in our face, the anchorage ahead looking wild and stormy to our weary eyes. He was gesturing towards the very expensive Flamenco marina, which he had assumed we would be going to! We did a loop in front of the entrance, big rocky walls either side, trying to suss out the area. We thought maybe we could just drop them off and go anchor. The wind was strong as I tried to make allowances coming into the jetty, still managing to cut into the slip foam with the bowsprit chain! We were met with an entourage of marina crew speaking fast Spanish and giving us the impression we shouldn't be there. Glancing down the jetty, I was stoked to see the very famous "Sea Shepherd" on the same dock. (We were later informd they had been detained there by the Panamanian authorities for what they do best: protesting/getting in the way of fishing operations they deem dodgy.) I was instructed to call up the main guy on the vhf but communication was getting no where with them. Dave in the meantime, went down and talked to the sea shepherd guys who took him on board and advised him on a map the best place to anchor. By this time, I was tired and stressed about getting off the dock and out of the entrance in the strong wind, let alone trying to anchor and get these people off our boat- there's no way we could row ashore safely.
Photo: flikriver.com; captions mine.

We got out fine, found a spot, anchored, made sure we were holding, and called out for help on the vhf for a water taxi or someone to help. A neighbour came over raving about how dodgy the anchorage was, he'd draged three times, but he didn't know of any taxi and his dingy wasn't up to taking people. Then he rambled the same thing another 3 or 4 times. While sitting, waiting to make sure we were holding, We finally managed to wave down some guys on a panga, paying them to take the people, lines and tyres ashore just before dark. Such an unfortunate way to end what was an enjoyable transit, the emotions caught up with us as we wondered what on earth we were doing this for.
Las Brisas anchorage looking across to Panama city. 

Turns out, after a good night's sleep, it was a good anchorage, we didnt drag, it had a free, guarded dinghy dock, as opposed to the other expensive side, and we ended up getting ourselves a new outboard, which after one paddle ashore, fully paid for itself!!
Classic example of tides: high tide...

...low tide (notice the horizontal I beams).

Another busy week, getting supplies, thanks to our awesome taxi guy: geto, who knew all the right places to go, loads of groceries...
Trip 2 of 3. Three full trolleys!
Boxed and delivered free, then 3 full dinghy trips.

..water, diesel, petrol.  The kids doing some shopping with their pocket money at the massive mall and getting more clothes as many things are perishing!
Awesome twisty building downtown can easily be seen from anchorage . 

Panama Canal administration building. 

Then there was the local fruit and veg market..
Grains, oils dried beans etc.


Pineapples 3 for $1!!!

$6 stalk of bananas


Citrus department.

Got to meet up with a couple of kid boats, get some playground time, which only just opened next to the anchorage.
4pm onwards, water spurts start, lit up with different colours.

Checked out a small rainforest park right close to the anchorage also.


Eli's shot of Senor Iguana.


Spot the tiny orange, red a and brown frogs.
Photo: Eli.


Red eyed tree frog (see below) sleeping! Photo: Eli.



Can you see the well camouflaged big green
frog on the top leaf? !  Photo: Dave.
The more prepared we became, the more at ease we felt about the big trip looming. It was really nice to know that an Aussie family and a kiwi guy and his dad were all on a similar mission.. to Panama's Las Perlas islands first, then on with the crossing.
Our first city anchorage, Panama city.

The day we were to check out, I remembered to turn on the vhf to listen in on the cruisers' net. To our horror, we learnt that a boat between Galapagos and Marquesas had sent out a mayday. They had a 60cm crack between the keel and hull, taking on water, bilge pumps not keeping up and their dive/repair attempts were not working. Then we realised we knew the guy, we'd met him at Bonaire boatyard, he was fixing his rudder at the time and would often send the kids to the shop to buy him food in exchange for iceblocks! We'd kept in regular contact ever since. By the time we caught wind of the news, he had called off the mayday, had managed to run a tarp under the hull, used the engine's intake hose to pump out the bilges and eased off the standing rigging, thereby lessening tension between the mast and keel. They were hopeful to continue the 1600nm themselves. We were obviously relieved to hear they were doing ok but it does play in the back of the mind...what are we doing?!
Lot's of humpback whales and their calves
about. Photo: Eli.

Nevertheless, we had an enjoyable day's motorsail down to Isla Espiritu Santo in the Las Perlas islands, were met with some friends dinghying out to greet us and we spent a couple of enjoyable days between two anchorages with the two families.
Dave on a foraging mission.

Salem would much rather be the
one with the machete!

Oh so sweet.

So this is how they grow!

Inside Isla Espiritu Santo.

Windward side Isla Espiritu Santo. 

Eli's shot of a stingray.

Photo: Eli



Leo off the Aussie boat, also offered to help Dave figure out how to set up our light wind sail.
Eager to keep up with our Aussie friends who were doing Marquesas via Galapagos, we left a little later with them in our sights on the horizon. Being a much larger boat though it wasn't long before we lost sight of them but we knew we would meet up with them again in a month.
Putting one third of the bunch to use.
Can't help but sing.."hey mumbo, mumbo
Italiano, hey mumbo!" Then it's stuck in
your head for the rest of the day - you'll see..
You're welcome!

The next two days had been pleasant, getting into the swing of things. We had a current in our favour, so even though it was a light head wind most of the time, motoring along, we were making a good amount of mileage. The boys were very accepting of the big trip and were handling it well. Salem who had suffered seasickness the most, had managed the last two trips and this one without taking any pills, even managing to go downstairs. Eden would say he hates sailing 'cos it takes too long, then in less than an hour make a statement starting with.."this is the best day ever!" We had seen lots of whales breaching and spurting water in all directions, every day.
We even caught a tuna trawling! Our most success ever..thanks Eric for your recommendation.

Had one intense evening of very heavy rain, pooling up the ports, with some leaking dribbles inside. Dave also had a good amount coming into the cockpit that he was pumping out with our manual hand bilge pump.
It was nearing the second evening at sea, I proudly observed the following: Eli was sitting next to me in the cockpit, absorbed in whatever he was doing. He stopped, poked his head out past the semi-lowered tarp blind and mentioned the wind had picked up and changed direction. With that, he jumped up to the front of the cockpit, altered the stay sail and foresail, altered course on the autopilot to make the most of the wind angle, pulled out the roller fuler and just like that, we gained an extra 4 knots speed! I was so impressed with the awesome seamanship skills this guy was showing.
About an hour or so later, Dave woke up and asked me to see him downstairs. I couldn't help feeling "this can't be good," going by the stressed look on his face.
To my horror, he disclosed his concerns for our safety, the stress he was feeling and his absolute resolve to turn the boat around and return to Panama city. I was gobsmacked, and gutted, I thought we were doing well, but I was weary of the fact that if anything goes wrong, it's essentially on his shoulders to figure out a solution, being the onto it, practical, resourceful one of the family.
Seeing your best friend unhappy under that much strain I witnessed on his face is never nice, so, he turned us around.
I expressed in my pain, that I will love and respect his decision.
This is still difficult to write about. Eli and Salem in the cockpit at the time, piped up, "what are you doing?" Dave's answer to them was to our surprise, met with tears from the boys and much debate from Eli about how it's going to get better, this is our home even if it isn't super comfy and got all the "essentials," how he feels more at home amongst the sailors. We were all upset about not being able to rendezvous with our Aussie friends in the Marquesas. Salem and Eden had already gone through their arguments off the head of Colombia when Dave last said he was going to put the boat up for sale and fly home. This transformation in Eli though, especially under these circumstances was surprising, awesome, and all too bittersweet.
To make matters worse, we turned around in nice conditions and headed into the worst weather we've had yet generating off the infamous Punta Mala (bad point).
Dave's face within hours though, was already looking years younger up as he confirmed he felt better already at the decision. It took the rest of us a good 24 hours or so to come around to accepting it.
It takes alot of courage to stick to your decision or gut, when everybody is against it and not just try to please the masses, something I have always loved about Dave.
The morning we were to arrive back in the familiar anchorage of Isla Espiritu Santo, a dark heavy cloud band hung over Las Perlas islands, lightening sparking down between the hills. Do we head into that or continue north to Panama city? That was when I thought I was watching the all familiar sight of a whale spurt on the horizon to the north of the island..funny, it's staying up for a long time..wow, check out that cloudy finger..imagine if..oh, how bout that, maybe we should wake up Dave!
"Oh, that can't be good" came the weary response as Dave's eyes came into focus with the dodgy looking system feeding into the water spout.
It dissipated within 5 minutes or so. Dave was desperate for some rest and the weather looked to be slowly moving south.
We got settled into the anchorage, it felt gloomy and lonely this time though, knowing our friends had long gone.
Las Perlas. 

Then Dave quietly broke down on the aft deck. He was disappointed we had turned back.
Rested up later, Dave expressed he felt it was still a good decision to make. I felt it was important to let him know that even though I respect his decision, I can't deny the fact that I'm gutted. He was 90% sure we would be flying home. I was 85% hopeful we would find a way to continue to the Pacific, in spite of the daunting feeling of having to repeat that passage.
For some reason I have this crazy notion that if we can make it to Tahiti, all our hard work, stress and endurance will have paid off.. the great reward. The day we had been dingying ashore to an island beach in Las Perlas with other cruiser friends, actually hanging out was the first day we've had. It seems a shame to not reap some more benefits especially for Dave's huge investment of stress and work.
We were just preparing to head off next morning when it clouded over with the look of heavy rain about to approach. Waiting in the cockpit, amused at what I thought was the familiar sound of a fishy boil up, my eyes were met with a different sight: 10 metres from our boat, water was spiralling in an upward motion! It moved parallel with the boat then headed to the end of the island, no cloudy finger to boost it's power though, phew!
"Death at every corner," to quote what one cruiser friend semi-jokes about the "cruising" life! Within minutes of that, the wind picked up with fierce intensity, bringing waves through that consistently rocked our bow up and down, pulling hard at the chain. We sat, concerned, discussing our options and course of action. Alright, I'd have to agree, this is not fun. All the tiring emotions welled from the last 72 hours, messing with the overwhelming scary situation we were in. All I could think to do was get busy: I tidied and made an early lunch, in case we needed to up-anchor. It helped. We then watched a medley of previously loaded TedX talks. These were a great distraction, uplifting, encouraging, funny, challenging, the boys loved them and at some stage the wind eased off while our anchor held.
We stayed on for another night, getting woken early morning by a consistent splashing noise outside our cabin port. It was still dark out but I could just make out the culprit for the noise: bats flying laps around our boat, dipping for fish every 4-6 seconds, no wonder I wasn't getting any sleep!
Another whale, this time close to the anchorage. 

Thankfully we had a very pleasant motor up (still no wind), regularly entertained by whales, sometimes within metres of the boat.
Meeting other cruisers that day our questions of storage were soon answered: there's no cheap, easy option on this side of Panama. Ecuador and Costa Rica were not particularly straight forward either, given our budget restraints.
Turns out we were probably in the safest place for the wind, as it hit like a battering ram through Las Brisas, Panama city.
It was of some reprieve upon arrival on land, taking the kids to the playground, we bumped into some friends with kids we'd met at Shelter bay. Having them there, and anchored close by, helped ease the discomfort and tension.
We researched. We figured out lists.
I realised it was a good decision. We got prices together. Dave courageously started working through the jobs. We listed the boat for sale, keeping our options open. Somewhere along the way we came to the conclusion that selling is not going to be a quick, easy out, we need to keep plodding forward.
There's been a good amount of tension, being in close confinement with arguing, fighting kids and the stress that ensues such decision making under a serious lack of resources, both locally and financially.
We have been feeling rather timid and often overwhelmed but throughout this time have been hugely grateful for the constant encouragement and timely words from close friends and family, regardless of our decision of which way we go. We couldn't have got this far without them. You know who you are, thank you.
I've noticed something over this last week : sitting in the relative safety of our anchorage (not including the days where the wind screams through threatening to drag us all out to sea or into each other), contemplating the possible outcomes of give up, sell up, go home to comfort vs keep on pushing to achieving the goal (which at this stage is very hazy), there has been a subtle change in attitude. Contemplating left us feeling timid, unsure. Now that we've started to progress through the list of jobs, as each one is dealt with, I believe we're getting just a little bit more courage. One could summise, that once we got proactive, only then did the courage follow, albeit a tiny ounce! Then just when we start to think, "yeah, we can do this," we get a knock back like intense thunderstorms cracking overhead and all we want to do is cower to land for cover and catch the first plane home!
Bridge of the Americas has disappeared, here we go again!

I've also noticed a change in courage for me, ie seriously lacking now. Or perhaps it's just that I'm not so blissfully ignorant now!
You'll be pleased to know, our mayday friend made it to the Marquesas under sail, 37 days. A large freighter passed by, and dropped off repair items to help. He is even courageously considering continuing to sail another 10 days onto Tahiti where there will be better repair facilities.
Las Brisas, spot Bridge of the
Americas in background. 

We are aiming for crossing attempt round 2, God willing. Prayers and encouragement much appreciated, we need all the help we can get!

Tuesday 1 August 2017

To the Colon, the Canal...the Pacific!


"A man, a plan, a canal, Panama..."
Is one of the world's most famous palindromes: you can read it forwards and backwards!
Panama's area is 74,177.3 kmsq (NZ is 3.6 times the size, according to madaboutpanama.com). Their population is 4,052,481 with nearly half living in the capital, Panama city.
As our cruising guide described, the first thing you'll notice coming down the coast, that you're nearing the Colon entrance of the Canal, are the fleet of ships anchored outside the breakwater, awaiting their transit.  From a distance, they almost appear to be anchored in a line on the horizon. Massive cranes and other port objects came into view and Eli asked, "Is this the entrance up here Dad?"
"No, no, this is the port before the Canal, we've still got a way to go." Five or 10 minutes pass, I say, "That looks a lot like the 30 metre lights on the breakwater mentioned in the guide"..no, still a way to go. There's a ship leaving the entrance, it seems slow, but due to previous experience, it looks that we wont have time to pass in front. While were discussing whether to turn to port, towards the entrance, or starboard, away from entrance, but also towards the same direction the ship is heading, it suddenly appears remarkably close. (At least it's not night time!). Dave quickly turns off the auto-pilot and turns to starboard while Eli and I, from the safety of the cockpit, try to sheet in the roller furler that is flapping madly about from the sudden turn into the wind.
A little too close for our liking!

The ship comes powering past as we do a full 360, then go back to our course.  Another ship comes powering up in front of us and heads toward the entrance as Eli makes another comment about whether that is the Colon entrance. Dave, frustrated at having to repeat himself, grabs the tablet with the navionics map to prove his point. It shows our boat outside Isla Naranjos, a number of miles back. Somehow, the chart had stopped tracking! I quickly went below retrieving my phone off charge, brought the charts up, only to discover that yes, we had just sailed straight past the entrance!!
Another u-turn and all of a sudden, our tranquil cruising downwind turned into a raucous as the boat lurched up and down into the wind, jerking side to side as we rolled over the seas, which always feel bigger when you have to punch into them!  I called up the Cristobal signal station requesting permission to enter the breakwater, thankfully were given the all-clear.
The canal entrance area on a nice still day!

We had planned to anchor in the busy Colon port area of Club Nautico, which is close to the cruise ship docks and a not so good neighborhood, requiring us to paddle ashore and taxi everywhere for safety reasons. After this ordeal, Dave made the call, we're heading to the marina, "I need to relax." Luckily I had previously enquired of any vacancies and being low season there was space available. We motored along the breakwater, super cautious of the shallowness on that side, but also the reef on the other side that we had been forewarned. (We had previously plotted a course for the marina, as another option). Called up the dockmaster, receiving instructions for entering the narrow marina alonside the mangroves.
Boatyard out back of marina, surrounded by lush rainforest.

Turned out to be a great decision.  Being the low-season meant that for a little extra, we could stay for a week, rather than a few days, focus on jobs for canal and get some better sleep, not waking often to check on whether we're dragging anchor.  But just for a bit of excitement, reading the marina brochure, they advise to keep a look out for crocs cruising between boats after 9pm!!
Our nice admeasurer Jose.

We could get our paperwork done and the admeasurer was out to see us next morning. Once again we were welcomed and encouraged by lots of great people, while "cooling off" (not really!) in the pool and there were quite a few kids around.
The free shopping bus trip into Colon was awesome, we had to drive past old military buildings from the war and through the military checkpoint.
Photo courtesy of sailcetacean.com

Lush rainforest meets the road until we have to stop and wait for traffic: boats entering the Canal!  Once through, we then drive right past the first lock.. (apologies for bad photos using phone through bus window)..
Driving at water level past the lock, a little unnerving
seeing water seeping through some gaps!

Over top of canal operations, notice ship in 2nd lock ahead.

Then zigzag through a myriad of buildings and operations, over top of the lock system, feeling like we were in the midst of a real-life mouse trap game.
We pop out the other side, back into rainforest, short time after, arriving into a spaghetti junction/4 lane highway that we cross over to the shopping area.
One return trip home, we even got to travel across the canal on a car ferry.
With all our paperwork and fees paid for (shopping bus could drop us at bank), we nervously made the phone call after 6pm as instructed, to find out our transit date. The man, speaking very good English said the earliest we could do it was..Sunday..in two days???!!!! (we're not ready for that, literally or mentally!) How about Wednesday? I countered.
"Oh yes, that should be fine, just call up the night before, July 11th to confirm"
Goodness gracious, we are actually doing this!!

Checking out jungle clad ex-war
buildings near marina.

I've been pretty darn excited about the prospect of Panama and the Canal ever since we bought the boat. I'm sure the nervousness will kick in closer to the time. Dave is quietly nervous, but handling it very well, working through the jobs. It's been really nice bouncing things off other cruisers. Met a few Kiwis even, having a rather funny, entertaining but also very informative evening with one lot of very experienced cruiser/racers.
The week disappeared very quickly making a start on grocery provisioning, refuelling and filling water tanks.
Dave and I managed to sneak in a small jungle walk while the kids made the most of their friend/screen/pool time.
Finally got to see the howler monkeys.



Dave braving the bats: constantly flying between two doorways straight past his head!-note bat blur on right wall!



In amongst all this, Eli turned 15! Dave and I are immensely proud of this guy, he has been such a pleasure to have in our lives and has blown us away with his transformation in maturity and attitude.
Eli

That evening at a cruisers' get-together, one family caught wind of the news and managed to arrange a large tub of icecream to be delivered from a cruise ship, as a celebration gift! We also found out only 6 weeks prior, three 3m crocs had been wandering around that very bbq area!
Canal day arrived, we had our lines and tyre/fenders already delivered, our linehandlers had arrived and so had a rather large crew of friends to see us off.  The kids were yelling constant goodbyes, friends were waiting to untie our lines, I switched on the key...nothing.  Checked the switches, tried again, nothing.  "Um, Dave, can you take a look at this." There was so much noise from the kids, no-one noticed, Dave fiddled about, managed to get it in the correct sweet spot and fired the engine to life..phew, no pressure!  We meandered out at snail pace, the poor marina occupants listening to constant goodbyes from the kids running about the the finger slips, following us out! We motored a short distance, half hour or so to the industrial side of Colon to the "flats" anchorage where we waited for our advisor to be delivered by boat.
Just to give you a better overview, here's  a picture from AMP:


From Colon (Cristobal on the map), to Balboa is 39.5 miles.
Image: slideshare.net

3.30pm our advisor arrived and we followed a catamaran through the traffic up to the first lock, tying together shortly beforehand.
We followed a massive ship that had just passed us, then a tug snuggled in behind us.

Bit of traffic to keep us actively observant.

The monkey fists got thrown to us from the men on the  land, which were attached to our lines.

An alarm goes off, the massive iron doors close and the water starts to churn into the chamber, as we watch the water level rapidly rise, Eli suddenly yells out..shark! We'd heard of crocodiles being the only ones to get a free pass through the canal, but Eli and Eden definitely saw a shark about 3 metres long.


The black bridge underneath slides out to cross; this is where we travelled across by bus.

As we rose, the ropes holding us in place had to be constantly adjusted.  Once at the top, the doors opened. The men on land pulled us along with ropes, having to climb a steep set of stairs to reach the next chamber.
Trains pull the large ships through while men walk us along, up the steep hill!

During this time, the catamaran was driving the two of us, while I adjusted the throttle according to the advisors' directions.
While sitting at the helm, I noticed out the window, Dave's legs at the edge of the boat, and on the other boat, many sets of legs, all milling around Dave, he seemed to have become the star attraction!  They were asking lots of questions about what we were doing and did we have a generator (no) and a watermaker (no), they'd look at the paint flaking off the decks and say, "oh, yes, it does need a bit of work!"
Tied up together.

The group were chartering the boat, with a young Aussie Captain and stewardess taking them through. Then one of them came out with souvenir teeshirts for Dave and I! The next two locks were thankfully fairly uneventful, but also very enjoyable.  Once out of the last lock, we untied, motored about 20 minutes into the Gatun Lake where our advisor skilfully jumped ship to go home.
Celebration in the lake.

Our linehandlers stayed on for the night, having dinner pre-made, we enjoyed the sunset, drinks and semi-conversations of mixed Spanish and English.
Sunrise looking out our bedroom port over Gatun Lake:
Surreal moment.

Up early, preparing apple yoghurt muesli, expecting the advisor to arrive at 7.30am, it was 9.30am by the time we left, due to some delay in the canal.
Eden has breakfast on the rubber buoy and watches massive ship leave the new canal into the lake.

The catamaran had left about an hour before, which ended up working in our favour: we got to take the more scenic "banana cut", shaving off about a half hour or so. Dave took over the helm for an hour while I prepared lunch, then I jumped back on it. This combination works best for us as I am quite comfortable driving, while Dave prefers to be taking all the details into consideration to make clear decisions and directions, to me at the helm.

We were praying it wouldn't rain for our canal transit, mostly out of concern of visibility. A tall order in Panama, during rainy season, where thunder and lightening are a daily occurrence. It did rain, actually, it poured, but I could see anywhere between 2 and five markers ahead. There was some pretty intense thunder and lightening overhead also!
We did get to see a large crocodile on the muddy bank, which was very exciting and made for a good side track to forget about the weather.  A massive ship was closing in on us, 500m, 300m, then backed off. I was also praying for visibility to enjoy the view of sailing under the Centenario bridge, which it did.
Gold hill in the Gaillard cut.



Centenario bridge.

We found out later that because of the lack of visibility, the large ship behind had to ease right back, which actually set us up better for the next set of locks, catching up with the cat and tying alongside them again as they cheered and clapped!
Pedro Miguel Lock sitting up at the top..
Love this shot my brother in law took of us from the canal camera website..thanks Johnny.


This set of locks had us going down and it was weird looking down over the gate into the Pacific.
Hello Pacific! 

I suddenly felt rather teary, the reality of all our years of planning and hard work had actually brought us from the Caribbean to the Pacific, we almost had our boat on the right side of the world at long last!
At the helm.


While waiting for the large ship to get set up and meet us in the lock, I was also very fortunate to have constant communication with family on whatsapp, as they watched us on the cameras online, further adding to the rather surreal experience.

At the bottom, all drained out!

Watching our depth sounder, we were at 75 feet at the first lock, we dropped down to about 54 feet, the gates opened and by the time we reached the next lock gate, we were at 75 feet again!

The water going out was very subtle, we motored out of the last lock, untied from the catamaran, then followed the buoys out of the busy harbour and under the bridge of the Americas - joining South America to Central and North America.

Bridge of the Americas.

Our advisor kindly complemented me on doing a good job before leaving on his pilot boat ride.


We were in the Pacific.  But that will have to wait till next time..thanks for reading.