By John – Page 5 – Caro Babbo

Dancing with somebody new…

Port Townsend, WA, 30-OCT-2021 – Should I be careful about what I wish for? Should we all?

Bluewater sailing: having the expertise and being known for it. That’s what I wanted, and perhaps, possibly, because I write about it, I am becoming known for it. Do I have that expertise? Well, that’s a different question.

Caro Babbo Sleeps

Mitte, Berlin, German, 13-SEP-2021 – The return to Homer was smooth and uneventful. We sailed when we could, three times, perhaps. Each time Caro Babbo coming into her own, sailing faster than I remember, reaching hull speed easily. This may be because we were in fairly protected waters each time, but most likely we had current helping us.

For the entire trip, we saw only three other sailboats. The first was a marina-mate from Ko’Olina marina on Oahu. Yes, it is a small world.

Airplanes and Nail Polish

Homer, AK, 16-JUL-2021 — I’m here. I’m in Homer getting Caro Babbo ready to ”Splash” at the end of the month.

Splash is a very visual word and a bit joyous, making a big splash is what many of us want when we make it big. When launching Caro Babbo that is the last thing we want to envision. Splash is a sail boat falling from the TravelLift into the water, a crane tipping over and other very visual mishaps that must be pushed from my imagination.

Count down to Homer

Port Townsend, WA, 23-Jun-2021 – In 22 days I will board a Delta Flight from SeaTac airport to Homer, Alaska changing in Anchorage. Rental cars are scarce; I will pay $125 per day for a three days rental car in Homer. In Anchorage, there are none – Jennifer and I paid $13 per day for a rental last September.

I am flying to Caro Babbo. The surge of returning has taken a long time to build in me. I once saw an interview with Norman Mailer describing the effects of using a testosterone gel. He said he hadn’t felt that way in years. Norman is long dead, but returning to Caro Babbo sharpens my senses and gives me purpose.

There is never the return to her that doesn’t have some apprehension. It is the not the uncertainty in the back of one’s mind when seeing a lover after an absence: Have things changed? Will I still be loved?

No, returning to a boat, our boat, is the apprehension of returning to a house that has been shut up: Will everything still be there? Will there be damage?

Maybe it is closer to returning to a loved exotic car. All of the above for a house, plus will it start? Can I get parts for the repairs I must make?

Unique to a boat: once I get it running, will it sink somewhere with me aboard? Will the rigging fail and Caro Babbo become dismasted?

Two Caro Babbos, Two Johns

Scottsdale, AZ, 29-MAY-2021 – There are two pictures of Caro Babbo that have special significance to me. The first is Caro Babbo at anchor on our first trip north along the inside passage. In the scheme of things we didn’t go very far, only as far as the top of Quadra Island, but to us it was an unimaginable adventure. Caro Babbo is at anchor. Her transom is nearly naked and, in my mind’s eye, not even her name is there, but it is, so this picture must be from 2014. There is no windvane, there is no EPIRB, nor outboard engine. She is uncluttered.

The Long Dark Tea Time of the Sail

Rocky Point, New York, April 4th, 2021, Easter Sunday – Winter has passed, the snow here in New York is long gone and Maxi 95 owners in Scandinavia and elsewhere in Europe are putting their boats in the water.

Preparing this house for rent has taken longer than any similar project I have worked on, and is coming up on four times longer than I had planned. I hadn’t planned to be away from Jennifer this long, I hadn’t planned to spend this large percentage of my remaining life here, doing this.

Looking forward, looking aft: who was I, who am I, who will I become

Port Townsend Washington, 20 November 2020 – On Monday, the day after tomorrow, I’ll fly to Atlanta to work on my house there.

I’ll be flying on an Alaska Airlines buddy pass, courtesy of Grayson on X-Wing.

My life has changed. I’ve become so integrated into the sailing community that people don’t have last names anymore, just the name of the vessel they sail on.* It’s very much like the German or Dutch von or the French du, or even how Italian names came into existence as the place where they are from, my original surname, Giuliano, from the province of Giulia, which is no longer inside the Italian borders.

In giving me these buddy passes, Grayson told me I had to fly dressed appropriately, no ripped jeans.

After six days in Dutch, we head east again.

Written on my birthday. Two days prior, two fishing boats left Dutch Harbor, and Jennifer and I climbed to higher ground, all of us waiting for a tsunami.

Dutch Harbor, AK, USA, 24-JUL-2020 – It is my birthday today. I’ve come to the conclusion there is no such thing as a day off. Here in Dutch Harbor, we have had a full social life and will take tonight for just Jennifer and me. We’ll go to Angelina’s, which has an amazing Mexican menu. We’ll eat some small plates, I think, and drink some beer.

Living on Discovery Dock with us in the Bob Moss International small boat harbor are Anja and Thomas on Robusta and Ola* and Michael on Crystal.

Plastic

Traveling to where there are no people, one sees new things, and things anew.

Port Townsend, WA, 11-NOV-2020 – Our first landfall in Alaska was Hot Springs Cove, Inanudak bay, Umnak Island, Aleutians on the Bering Sea side.

The crossing had been uneventful, with good weather the entire way. There were no major equipment failures, and by using our windvane for most of the trip, the sounds were of wind, water against the hull, and the propeller, driven by the streaming water.

Commercial grade gear

‘‘Until something breaks’’ is the watch phrase of all sailors.

Homer, AK, 9-Sep-2020 – We’ve been reading, watching, and talking about equipment failures. A typical ocean crossing is 15 to 35 days. On every boat, things break during a crossing. It’s something sailors have come to expect and prepare for. I’ve also come to realize we, as sailors, expect this very expensive equipment to fail after a very short duty cycle.

In small harbors, where we hang around with commercial fishing boats, I try to envision a commercial vessel living with the meantime between failure (MTBF) measured in days of service. The bits and pieces of their boats are up to the task and not generally pretty: Stainless steel in some places, aluminum in others, and galvanized steel wherever that makes the most sense. We rarely see full-chain anchor rodes.