People – Page 6 – Caro Babbo

Natalie, Unintended consequences, Law? and someplace everyone has heard of.

Catalina, CA, 26-SEP-2019 — ”I met these two Swedish men on the island who said to me, ‘We’re looking for a woman named Natalie who runs these adventure races,’ ” said the woman that Jennifer and I first saw walking up the winding dirt road from Two Harbors to the cliff overlook where we all stood.

We said to her, ”And that would be you?”

Where we are now and some perspective.

Two weeks ago:

29-AUG-2019 – Today is the first day Jennifer and I are not sea sick and scared. Overcoming being frightened is just a matter of realizing that we can do this. We have trained, practiced and prepared. It is very little different than coastal sailing other than there is no heading in when we’re tired of this.

Other differences of note are a single point of sail (leaving the sails untouched) for more than 24 hours at a time. We’ve gotten used to large rollers with waves atop them, and found that on starless, moonless lights the only orientation one has are the instruments.

So why aren’t we out in the pacific?

Off Point Flattery, 27-AUG-2019 08.11 PT– We set out this morning to lumpy waves in the Strait and are just rounding Cape Flattery via Tatoosh Island.

We may also have realtime tracking at: https://forecast.predictwind.com/tracking/display/CaroBabbo

Sorry about the unfinished blog post below. I was working from a tablet keyboard that didn’t like me.

The next 24-hours should be breezy and bumpy and then a predicted nice ride to San Fran.

I’ll spend some time later putting together real post. For the moment, wish us well.

Neah Bay, 23-AUG-2019 — Leaving Monday morning was a bit more rush than planned. I spoke with Frank at 11pm Sunday evening arranging a 6:30 am bridge opening. Jennifer and I got to sleep before midnight. I was up at 5:15 to get coffee started. Jennifer would get up about 5:45, which is plenty of time to leave slip at 6:20 and be ready for the opening.

At 5:30, Frank called to tell me we needed to make a six am opening. Could we make it? The question was rhetorical and disingenuous. If we didn’t take his offer we would need to wait until after rush hour traffic; the bridges don’t operate from 7 until 9 am each work day.

Island Chief, the very large tug that moves gravel barges to and from Lake Washington had a 6 am opening. We should fall in behind her.

I woke Jennifer to tell her the news, and walked over to Harrison’s boatm, Berkley to wake him and tell him the news. Harrison was already awake and on deck.

We had originally planned to leave on the 14th, but Harrison asks us to wait until the 19th to sail with him up to Port Townsend. We never would have made the 14th. We didn’t strap Hilary Hoffmann, our Portland Pudgy, rigged as a life raft, upside down on the foredeck until just before I called Frank.

Before Jennifer and I on Caro Babbo and Harrison and two friends, one asleep, and two dogs aboard Berkeley waiting outside of Lee’s Landing for Island Chief and her barge, we had listened on VHF 13 to the captain of Island Chief speak with Frank at the University Bridge.

Where is Jennifer’s Car and When are we leaving?

Lee’s Landing, Lake Union, Seattle, WA, 14-Aug-2019 – A fast status as we’re finishing up getting ready to leave.

There is a heavy and unrelenting feeling of pressure to get everything done, but as I sit to write this fast and hurried post, I realize that there are five days to go and there is no need to feel this pressure. Everything on critical path is easily accomplished. Yes, the list is unending, but that it is because it is a boat, just like a house, there is always more to do.

Better in the living

More than a week has passed since I wrote this. Jennifer has returned to Seattle, and I have been head down working on what needs to be done before we leave and what I’d like to be done before we leave.

DL1077 ATL-SEA twenty minutes outside of Atlanta, 20-JUL-2019 – As an adult, I’ve always lived a double life, or more. A life in one city, a second or third in another. It has been a life out of a movie sometimes: I worked at a movie studio, fell for a Russian I met there and followed her to Paris; I was profiled in a magazine and worked in dozens of countries; I owned that same model sports car that James Bond drove, but it was always a life better in the telling than the living. Long distance relationships seem to be more about pain and heartbreak than anything else, life on the road is exciting and tiring and forbids other parts of life.

Taking a few minutes to play Hooky

Lee’s Landing, Lake Union, Seattle, WA, 7-MAY-2019 – Tests for my Master’s (Captain’s) license start tomorrow evening. I’ll take a few minutes to play hooky and tell you about the experience before the reckoning.

I row to class in our Portland Pudgy each afternoon, a little after 5pm and then home at 9:30. The row is around 50 minutes, five or ten minutes longer than walking, but if I paid attention to where I am rowing, it might be the same or less. When rowing, I only see where I have been, rather than where I will be.

At night, I will see only three or fewer boats on the lake on my row home.

Lake Union and the PNW boating community is as much my home, as any I have had. I think of the three places I’ve lived where I would run into I people I knew: As a young adult on Long Island, I would always meet people I knew at Smith-Haven Mall. As a slightly older, young adult in New York’s west village, and now sailing here.

Hilary Has died.

At 7:42 pm, Atlanta time, Jennifer sent a text: ‘‘30 breaths per minute, hard, normal is 12-15.’’ At 7:54pm, ‘‘37 bpm.’’

Lake Union, Seattle, WA, 5:30 am PT, 12-Apr-2019 – At 6:03 am this morning, Atlanta time, with Jennifer holding her hand, Hilary drew her last breath and breathed no more.

Her passing was as Jennifer has hoped, peaceful and quiet. Jennifer was with her and Hilary was not afraid.

Life is a Mangle

7-APR-2019, Port Townsend, WA – Contranym – a word that is its own opposite. The noun mangle and verb mangle are life at the moment. A mangle is a machine with rollers that smooth cloth. I think of them as the wringer rollers on a washing machine, or the machines that iron sheets in a hotel. The verb is to destroy usually by twisting and cutting.

Hilary is dying. It blots out much of what I intended to write about.

She stood in front of the temple and spread herself upon the wind, thinner and thinner, until only the wind remained.
Apollo referring to Hera in Star Trek episode 33, Who Mourns for Adonis

Hilary, Spelling and the Camino; GPS, the Bahamas, and when will we ever get home to Caro Babbo.

Decatur, GA, 19-FEB-2019 – At times I’ve written that the true subject of this blog is Hilary.

Dyna and husband John at the 2019 Atlanta Orthographic Spelling Bee.

I received this email from Dyna Kohler, the Doyenne of the Atlanta Orthographic Spelling Bee. Dyna saw a picture of our dinghy, the Hilary Hoffmann stored on Caro Babbo’s foredeck.

I am really dumbfounded now to learn Hilary’s full name. Hilary Hoffman, did she walk the Camino in Spain in 2003? If so, I met her.…

John Riley

Decatur, GA, 24-Jan-2019 – Jennifer and I flew from Seattle to Atlanta yesterday. We had traveled by bus and ferry from Port Townsend to Caro Babbo, on Lake Union, the day before.

Owning Caro Babbo introduces us to a greater cross section of the world than anything I have ever done.

We meet people who have bought new power boats for millions of dollars and people living on derelict sailboats that will never move again without a tow. Unlike doing business in New York or the third world where the mega-wealthy and the destitute live side-by-side, sailing Caro Babbo, we do not merely see the spectrum of wealth and social standing, we spend time with the socio-eco spectrum of mankind.

I lived in NYC during the dark Abe Beam years. The city was at its nadir: murders were around four per day. It was dangerous time, and a time to learn about people and gain street smarts.