Tuesday, December 29, 2009

Ready or Not....

Here I, Lady Hornsby, sits on the Night before departure...
Is it actually possible that eight months after we thought up this crazy, ridiculous, absurd, amazing idea that it is truly time to set sail?  WHEN, not if, the motor cranks we will be on our way to Catalina Island for a New Years Eve arrival.  The journey, thus far, has been filled with highs, lows, moments of wondering why? why? why? (would I ever do this to myself) and the constant laughter that makes it all possible.  If you've ever wondered how three women could undertake this journey and not kill each other, it is a valid question.  It is by laughing, laughing and laughing some more.  We opened a bank account together and had so much fun that it was questioned if we were drinking.  We were not.  Some days it causes you to have no real sense of reality when the day passes in an assortment of accents, absurd usage of the English language, and at times (most times), inappropriate behavior. 
When you set your priorities straight, you can accomplish anything. Priorities have included driving an hour and a half to buy a stick pony, acquiring free vegetables, going carolling at an old folk's home, reading a children's story aloud, putting together a costume box and screaming for Captain Luigi to give us a ride in the dinghy we can't seem to sell.    
We have been acquiring all the necessary items over the last months to see that we will be fully prepared.  
1-hula hoop 
1-pony
1-fruit basket (bought before the boat)
2-guitars
1-sweaty betty surfboard
1-sat phone traded for a dead whale skin crammed into a westfalia that cost me hundreds in acupuncture treatments 

The boat is also fully outfitted with all that technical gear and repair type stuff that is not as fun to talk about but will come in REAL handy along the way.  
We are ready to continue manifesting our dream so wish us luck and know that this journey is one of the most precious chances in life that any of us has ever been given.  

 "if i had a boat, I'd go out on the ocean and if I had a pony I'd ride him on my boat" 
boat- check
pony- check
2 of the most amazing, supportive friends i have ever had- check
ready or not, here we go...........

Thursday, December 24, 2009

The List...

Our Christmas List has been decidedly different than everybody elses, I suspect. Our Christmas list has been an ever-evolving list of things to do and buy to prepare the Misty Moonlight and ourselves for the big adventure ahead of us. What's on such a list? Well, let's see...

Secure Batteries--check
Get wood from James--check
Insurance--check, this is at least it's second appearance on the list and the second time we've crossed it off too!
Dingy Sell/Buy--half-check we currently have two so if anyone knows someone who needs a sweet double-hull fiberglass dingy, let me know!
Oil Filters
Fuel Filters
Check thermostat
Mexico Cruising Guide--check
H2O tubes replaced--check, well done Sharky!!
Cheek block for reef lines
Anchor and Rode--check
Dodger--Ha!
Nesbitt's Saw
Load Test Batteries--check, this lead us to buying two new batteries...
Measure and mark Anchor Line--check
Flare Gun--check
Tighten belts--well, we tried, so...check...sure...
Buy Rhode (is that your spelling, Sharky?? 'cause I don't know what kinda funny math you've been doing on our bank account but I'm pretty sure we can't afford a State right now--even if it's a small one)
"Man" (what the?....oh my!...who put that on here?)
Boots--check
Pony--check, a story in itself...but another time...
Clothes Pins--check
Grip stuff--check
Plastic wine glasses--check
Fill Propane
Harness
Trash Can--check
Salt H2O pump--check
Call Standard Horizon--check
GPS--check
Flags--check
Charts--check
Patch Repair Kit
Boat Pump
Call Vintage--check
Call Minnies--check
Get Tubing--check
Check Acct--check
Inverter--check
Open House Party--check
Freezer Hinge
Pot Grippers--check
Plugs
Long Lighter--check
Hula Hoop--check
Try boots on with socks--check
Call West Marine/Gold Membership
Shelving
Download "Misty Moonlight"--check
Books--check
X-tra lines
Sat Phone--check

This is just one of several lists I found on this Christmas Eve. The list in my head of things we need rolls off the page...extra shackles and line for our anchors, spare lightbulbs of every kind, more air horns, fishing tackle, a tortilla press, more guitar music...it goes on and on and on. And every purchase digs in just a little further into our already dwindling funds sending us into agonizing debates over what we need and what we want. We chuckle about how much easier every decision would be if we just had a little bit more. So...

Dear Santa,

All I want for Christmas is a couple thousand dollars. You don't even have to come down the chimney or anything, just direct deposit into our bank account if that's easier. Unless you want to come around and share some egg-nog and a card game and a few laughs--a few merry Ho Ho Ho's would fit in well with our set, I think. You are always welcome on the Misty Moonlight!

Much love and Merry Christmas,

Captain Luigi

Wednesday, December 23, 2009

Someone wise once said, "shoot for the stars and you'll end up on Uranus" or something like that.

Hornsby walked down the stairs during an impromptu rehearsal of Christmas Carols and announced that we were to be singing Carols a local home on Christmas Eve for some folks that didn't have family to share the occasion with. It wasn't at all what we had planned, but surrounded by friends brimming with great love and compassion, I for one knew this was going to be a special holiday.

Christmas was to be spent in Mexico and then maybe Catalina Island, and now, now it's going to be in Ventura, Ca. Sharkfoot had told her family that if she was in the country she would be at home and I had told my family that if we didn't make it out of town in time I would pile the Windworthy Women into a car and make the six hour trek north to a Christmas tradition I was excited to share with dear friends.

But as the song goes, "any place is alright as long as I'm with you." It may be a bit hokey, but I must say, I feel blessed to spend the holidays with two women who I love and respect. So it will be an orphan SoCal Christmas. Instead of being with our families or out on an oceanic adventure, we will surround ourselves with blessings and good wishes and share some joy and music with others.

So Happy Merry to all our loved ones, far and wide! We feel nothing but blessing and gratitude for your love and support. And when we're ready, and only then, we will take those soaring wishes and sail with them.

Friday, December 18, 2009

Beginnings...


It's always hard to figure out where a story really begins. Was it the moment we were offered a free boat by the Captain of a Catalina Island ferry service? Or the moment when our offer on a boat was accepted? Could it be opening the bank account in the names of three ridiculously slap-happy women and pouring our life-savings into a ludicrous dream? Or maybe the day we signed the papers? Or is it much further back? Should we trace through our separate histories and find where they begin to overlap?

I think of a moment in San Pedro, albeit not a happy one, when I, the "captain" sat down on the curb of a parking lot and stared into the murky marina water. Lady Hornsby had taken the car to find fuel filters for an engine we knew nothing about. Sharkfoot and I had spent an hour hauling gear to the dock. Misty Moonlight was about to be put in the water after some repairs and a fresh coat of paint and we, untested and nervous, were to bring her Oxnard.

The list of things we hadn't done loomed large. I sat, mildly catatonic with worry, with all my faith riding on a thin shell of fiberglass, and more importantly, a 1975 (?) Volvo Penta MD6A with a diesel tank of unknown capacity. We were headed "uphill," that is, up wind and up current, to our new berth in Channel Islands Harbor and without an engine it could take us several days to go the 70-ish nautical miles. Sharkfoot had a plane to catch, Hornsby had a wedding to be in, and I had a box of tools and hopefully just enough know-how (read "luck) to help us get there.

They say that blue water sailing is 90% boredom and 10% terror. Fortunately for us we are graced with great friendship and spicy humor, remedies for the swings of emotion we all faced. Sharkfoot sat down next to me and offered the kind of logical compassion I needed.

"We don't have to do anything, you know? I mean, we could go out there for a few hours and figure some things out and then decide that it's too much you know, and just come back. We can get a slip right here. And then we'll just figure it out." That's all it took and after a few deep breaths I was back in the game.

This was our on-going fall back. That we could abandon the mission at any time, sell the boat and be done with it. No one wanted to do it, but it was always an option. Sharkfoot loved to remind us that we could scrap the boat for the lead keel for $2000 in a pinch. Somehow this point wasn't quite as comforting.

Hornsby finally returned, and by 12:30 on November 17th, 2009, after over six months of scheming and dreaming, we were motoring out of Long Beach/San Pedro passing some of the largest container ships in the world. And then came our first blessing. Just at the breakwater we reached a pod of dolphins--the first of many on our journey--and I think we all knew in a strange way, that somehow it would all work out.

A mile outside of the Harbor we set our sails, killed the motor and began to beat upwind, sailing our own boat for the first time. I'm embarrassed to admit, in our surveying of the boat, we had never even raised the sails, so we were thankful the previous owner hadn't cut any large donut holes out of the center of them. Sharkfoot spotted whales off the coast towards Catalina and we, all three, called out to them with our new-found freedom and wonder.

Four hours later we had made only 10 miles of headway so after enjoying a beer at sunset we revved up the engine again, doused the sails, and headed NW across the Santa Monica Basin under the growing darkness.

Seasickness is hard to describe--it seems to sneak up on one--and when Sharkfoot came up with freshly made sandwiches I knew it was too late for me. I took one bite, knowing that I would feel better if I had something in my stomach, but the act of swallowing was such a chore a gave up. The sandwich lay un-eaten for the rest of the journey. Half a dramamine and a drug-induced nap later, I was able to stomach a few crackers.

The cabin was thick with diesel fumes (a problem we have since remedied, but more on that later) and so we spent the night, green from the darkness, the swell, and the smell, taking shifts at the helm or sleeping on cushions on the cockpit benches. No-one left that 20-foot-square area for more than 10 minutes that entire night. We all knew it was going to be one of the longest nights of our lives. We were quite right.

When dawn came we could see Port Hueneme and amidst another pod of dolphins and a six-foot swell we headed into our new home. Weary, nauseous, and giddy at our success, we motored into the Harbor, slid into our new berth and had a celebratory meal of Sharkfoot's special Miso Soup with Noodles (look for our recipe book!). Hornsby and Sharkfoot hobbled up the dock on their sea legs to announce our arrival to the marina as I straightened up the cabin. That pita sandwich of mine lay, unscathed and uneaten, on the center of the floor, along with the entire contents of a beloved fruitbasket and numerous other items large and small, tokens of the night's confused seas. It wasn't long before we all collapsed into bed and let Misty rock us to sleep for the first time.