Saturday, February 16, 2008
Thursday, February 14, 2008
! Revolucion !
I was walking around checkin' stuff out today, and I came across what appeared to be a roadside tent colony of protesters with policia surveying them from the outskirts. I entered the tent village reminiscent of many a Phish show..... "habla Englais?" I asked around.... A young, english-speaking, local activist was only too proud to tell me all about what was up:
Old San Juan is loaded with many very old, historic waterfront fortresses, which locals are quite proud of. Apparently, many a historic battle have taken place at and around these forts. Well, these forts, and the waterfront property they reside on, are national parks, and are immune to and proteceted from development..... or so everyone thought. Apparently, the abutting Hilton Caribe Resort has somehow bought their way around this law, and a very historic peice of fort-related waterfront property is now under development. Million-dollar-per-unit luxury townhouse hi-rise condos. Good ol' fashioned American corporate greed and textbook corruption at its best.
Well, the Peurto Rican people are not standing for it. Their tent-city blockade is WORKING! Construction has stopped as the legal / publicity circus comes to town. I love it! In your face, Paris!! Power to the people!!
UNRELATED SIDE NOTE: As I type this, I'm at Sizzler for the third night in a row. It's Puerto Rican White-Trash Hell Night here at Sizzler. The place is jam packed to fire code capacity, there is a line out the door to get in, and half the people are wearing bright red for some reason. Some strange local tardition, I suppose. There is a little kid directly adjacent to me right now who is crying his eyes out cuz his parents won't let him come "play" with my computer. Good thing.... touch my laptop with those melted ice cream covered hands, and I'll GIVE you something to cry about. I ain't no GQ editor by any stretch, but damn, these people make some "interesting" fashion choices. Oh, the humanity....
El Cato
So, this morning at about 3:30am, Jordi goes up on deck to pee off the rail. John and I are woken up by Jordi exclaiming "Holy shit, you guys.... there's a CAT on the boat!!". This would not be so freaky if we were tied up a dock. We're not..... we're too cheap for that. Team Audax anchors for "free 99" just outside of marinas so we can use their facilities without paying. Yeah, that's right. That's how we roll. So the closest land is about 50 yards away. Somehow, a cat found his way onto S/V Audax during the night, as we slept.
Soon, all three of us were out in the cockpit, in our underwear, marveling at this lil' bastid. He was scurrying about the weatherdeck, in a panic, meowing his ass off... incessantly and loudly. His wails did not even cease for bowls of tuna and fresh water we procured for him! At one point he scaled my back like a tree, and I have the scratches to prove it. Everybody.... on three.... ".....cat scratch feverrrr..." [ed: Ted Nugent copyright issues] At another point he did a swan dive off the bow into the water. I gave him a 7.5 due to low degree of difficulty. He then climbed up into the tender and back onto the boat..... all on his own. FREAKAZOID! So we did the photo shoot, and then I volunteered to ferry El Cato to shore. We emptied out the anchor locker on the tender, and stuffed him into it. I shoved off, scouting for a suitable new home for this scrawny, young, frightened, wet and now shivering cat...... SCORE! I see boats that say "Policia" on them. It's a little marine cop shop. Surely the po-po could take care of him, or at least cart him over to the SPCA. I pulled up to the dock adjacent to the 5-0's.... best not to startle uniformed people with guns.... and I threw the lil' bastid out... Roger Clemens style. Sorry, cat lovers, but I didn't want him jumping back into the tender. He was fine..... he landed on all fours like cats always seem to figure out how to do in mid air. I dumped his tuna on the dock and sped off. As I departed, I looked back and he was scurrying around, still meowing to beat the band. G'night, and good luck, El Cato. At least eat the friggin' tuna, will ya? That's three lunchtime sandwiches on Team Audax!
[Disclaimer: If "El Cato" means something totally offensive in Spanish, I apologize. I had no idea, believe me. No habla espanol.]
Soon, all three of us were out in the cockpit, in our underwear, marveling at this lil' bastid. He was scurrying about the weatherdeck, in a panic, meowing his ass off... incessantly and loudly. His wails did not even cease for bowls of tuna and fresh water we procured for him! At one point he scaled my back like a tree, and I have the scratches to prove it. Everybody.... on three.... ".....cat scratch feverrrr..." [ed: Ted Nugent copyright issues] At another point he did a swan dive off the bow into the water. I gave him a 7.5 due to low degree of difficulty. He then climbed up into the tender and back onto the boat..... all on his own. FREAKAZOID! So we did the photo shoot, and then I volunteered to ferry El Cato to shore. We emptied out the anchor locker on the tender, and stuffed him into it. I shoved off, scouting for a suitable new home for this scrawny, young, frightened, wet and now shivering cat...... SCORE! I see boats that say "Policia" on them. It's a little marine cop shop. Surely the po-po could take care of him, or at least cart him over to the SPCA. I pulled up to the dock adjacent to the 5-0's.... best not to startle uniformed people with guns.... and I threw the lil' bastid out... Roger Clemens style. Sorry, cat lovers, but I didn't want him jumping back into the tender. He was fine..... he landed on all fours like cats always seem to figure out how to do in mid air. I dumped his tuna on the dock and sped off. As I departed, I looked back and he was scurrying around, still meowing to beat the band. G'night, and good luck, El Cato. At least eat the friggin' tuna, will ya? That's three lunchtime sandwiches on Team Audax!
[Disclaimer: If "El Cato" means something totally offensive in Spanish, I apologize. I had no idea, believe me. No habla espanol.]
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
The Spider's Face
So, Maimi Steph, Nancy and I were walking back to Steph's condo in Provo last week when we saw this spider in the stairwell:
That's a pretty big spider by my standards. This prompted me to ask the ladies "have you ever seen what a spider's face looks like?" They didn't seem interested in discussing it. In fact, they seemed more interested in distancing themselves from this spider. But I was being serious.
Consider this, if you will: Most people hate spiders, and are scared and/or freaked out by them. Especially large ones, it seems. The part that I've always found ironic about this, is that they are scared by the spider when it is feet away from them, only able to discern the general shape of it's legs, thorax and abdomen. If they would only look closer... much much closer, they would see the scariest part of the spider..... THE SPIDER'S FACE. Spider faces must have been designed by God for one purpose, and one purpose only: to instill fear into the heart of man. They have anywhere from six to eight eyes, and sharp, powerful, fangy jaws. Sometimes large, venemous fangs at that.
As I began to explain this phenomenon to the ladies, they walked off.... back to the spider-free confines of the condo. I had to take a close-up photo to demonstrate my point, and they sure as hell weren't too psyched to make any close-up eye contact with this puppy. So, I gently and tactfully moved the spider over to a brigher light (I knew the camera flash would surely draw the wrath of the spider fang) and positioned my camera as close to the spider's face as the camera could get and still maintain a good lens focus. I was able to snap the folllowing picture, thankfully in one take:
If you look closely at the above photo (by clicking on it), you can actually see a silhouetted reflection in the spider eyes of me taking the picture. Look at the two largest eyes on top. See what I mean? The Spider's Face is BY FAR the most instinctively frightening feature of the spider, but most people never even get to see it. Mull this over as you lie in bed tonight. Picture The Spider's Face as you fall asleep. Sweet dreams.
That's a pretty big spider by my standards. This prompted me to ask the ladies "have you ever seen what a spider's face looks like?" They didn't seem interested in discussing it. In fact, they seemed more interested in distancing themselves from this spider. But I was being serious.
Consider this, if you will: Most people hate spiders, and are scared and/or freaked out by them. Especially large ones, it seems. The part that I've always found ironic about this, is that they are scared by the spider when it is feet away from them, only able to discern the general shape of it's legs, thorax and abdomen. If they would only look closer... much much closer, they would see the scariest part of the spider..... THE SPIDER'S FACE. Spider faces must have been designed by God for one purpose, and one purpose only: to instill fear into the heart of man. They have anywhere from six to eight eyes, and sharp, powerful, fangy jaws. Sometimes large, venemous fangs at that.
As I began to explain this phenomenon to the ladies, they walked off.... back to the spider-free confines of the condo. I had to take a close-up photo to demonstrate my point, and they sure as hell weren't too psyched to make any close-up eye contact with this puppy. So, I gently and tactfully moved the spider over to a brigher light (I knew the camera flash would surely draw the wrath of the spider fang) and positioned my camera as close to the spider's face as the camera could get and still maintain a good lens focus. I was able to snap the folllowing picture, thankfully in one take:
If you look closely at the above photo (by clicking on it), you can actually see a silhouetted reflection in the spider eyes of me taking the picture. Look at the two largest eyes on top. See what I mean? The Spider's Face is BY FAR the most instinctively frightening feature of the spider, but most people never even get to see it. Mull this over as you lie in bed tonight. Picture The Spider's Face as you fall asleep. Sweet dreams.
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
Puerto Rico II
So, now I'm at Sizzler. Great wi-fi, a seat with an electrical outlet, and a cost effective "all you can eat" buffet. "All you can eat", huh? They obviously don't know who they are dealing with here. I can hyperextend my stomach like a boa constrictor's jaw. A sail bum oasis. hhmm... 500nm from South Caicos to San Juan... four days at sea. I'll do my best to summarize without leaving anything out.....
The weather window was perfect as predicted by Chris Parker. Thank you, Chris Parker. Four days is a BIG window to ask for and we got it. The only aspect even remotely resembling a flaw would be the squalls, but let's not get greedy, eh? One 200nm Stbd tack North East out to sea, and one 300nm Port tack SouthEast to San Juan:
The weather window was perfect as predicted by Chris Parker. Thank you, Chris Parker. Four days is a BIG window to ask for and we got it. The only aspect even remotely resembling a flaw would be the squalls, but let's not get greedy, eh? One 200nm Stbd tack North East out to sea, and one 300nm Port tack SouthEast to San Juan:
No real gnarly conditions to speak of, except for one intense squall which hit on my solo night shift. It was an intense one, but Otto hung tough right through it, so I could stay pseudo-dry under the dodger. Thanks to the radar, the sails were reefed in preparation. I still can't believe John and Jordi both slept through it. It was a doozie. Speaking of sleep....
Major props to John and Jordi who came up with an AWESOME new 3 hours on / 3 hours off / "overlapping swingman" watch schedule which KICKED ASS. We were all fully rested all four days and nights, and I am still fully rested as I type this! Amazing. Thanks, guys. Good work. And I still don't understand how the schedule works.... I just know it DOES.
The menu: FRI - hot dogs, steak fries and canned green beans (John). SAT - beef stew, hash browns (Steve). SUN - beans & rice (Jordi). MON - fresh bread, spaghetti o's with fresh carrots (Jordi and John respectively).
Mechanical failure #1: We either got dirty fuel in South Caicos, or put too much cleaning agent in our tank which loosened up too much debris in the tank at once. We clogged our primary fuel filter twice en-route, enough to stop the engine. Twice. We were glad to be in a "blowboat" and not a "stinkpot". We had to conserve the third and last filter by sailing and only sailing for the entire last day and night. The winds co-operated, thank God. The race was on.... we had to sail-and-only-sail to Puerto Rico before our weather window closed and the wind and seas intensified.... we just made it.
Mechanical failure #2: Self-induced. Our rudder post stuffing box seeps water into the bilge. This annoys us. We attempted to tighten it up en-route, which made it worse. DOH! Live and learn.
Thermodynamics. We started the trip packed with ice and drinking cold drinks. Ice melts faster on board when the engine raises the mean cabin temperature. We were drinking lukewarm drinks by mid-trip. By the end, the drinks were actually warmer than the outside ambient temperature, due to the afforementioned engine heating effect. I stocked up on my life-giving elixir known as Diet Coke before we left. I should have noted the dust on the cans.... they were WAY OLD. Expired Diet Coke tastes like a seltzer water with some unpalatable sythetic chemical accidentally spilled into it. And I drank them in a warmed-up state. Gross. huh? Only for the first few.... kinda like Milwaukee's Best. You get used to it. They had the caffeine which my neurosynapses have come to require in my old age. And our milk spoiled. No more cereal.
This is a NOAA weatherfax we recieve on single sideband radio. These puppies and Chris Parker's Caribbean weather broadcasts determine when, where, and how S/V Audax makes her moves. Or..... stays put:
Feeling dirty? Tired? Unkept? Smelly? Liberal applications of this stuff in strategic spots on your body can change your whole outlook. A real morale booster. It's just like a shower! (yeah, right) Chris Bartlett has been raving about this stuff for years, and I have scoffed. I DON'T SCOFF ANYMORE. I'm now a big fan:
Major props to John and Jordi who came up with an AWESOME new 3 hours on / 3 hours off / "overlapping swingman" watch schedule which KICKED ASS. We were all fully rested all four days and nights, and I am still fully rested as I type this! Amazing. Thanks, guys. Good work. And I still don't understand how the schedule works.... I just know it DOES.
The menu: FRI - hot dogs, steak fries and canned green beans (John). SAT - beef stew, hash browns (Steve). SUN - beans & rice (Jordi). MON - fresh bread, spaghetti o's with fresh carrots (Jordi and John respectively).
Mechanical failure #1: We either got dirty fuel in South Caicos, or put too much cleaning agent in our tank which loosened up too much debris in the tank at once. We clogged our primary fuel filter twice en-route, enough to stop the engine. Twice. We were glad to be in a "blowboat" and not a "stinkpot". We had to conserve the third and last filter by sailing and only sailing for the entire last day and night. The winds co-operated, thank God. The race was on.... we had to sail-and-only-sail to Puerto Rico before our weather window closed and the wind and seas intensified.... we just made it.
Mechanical failure #2: Self-induced. Our rudder post stuffing box seeps water into the bilge. This annoys us. We attempted to tighten it up en-route, which made it worse. DOH! Live and learn.
Thermodynamics. We started the trip packed with ice and drinking cold drinks. Ice melts faster on board when the engine raises the mean cabin temperature. We were drinking lukewarm drinks by mid-trip. By the end, the drinks were actually warmer than the outside ambient temperature, due to the afforementioned engine heating effect. I stocked up on my life-giving elixir known as Diet Coke before we left. I should have noted the dust on the cans.... they were WAY OLD. Expired Diet Coke tastes like a seltzer water with some unpalatable sythetic chemical accidentally spilled into it. And I drank them in a warmed-up state. Gross. huh? Only for the first few.... kinda like Milwaukee's Best. You get used to it. They had the caffeine which my neurosynapses have come to require in my old age. And our milk spoiled. No more cereal.
This is a NOAA weatherfax we recieve on single sideband radio. These puppies and Chris Parker's Caribbean weather broadcasts determine when, where, and how S/V Audax makes her moves. Or..... stays put:
Feeling dirty? Tired? Unkept? Smelly? Liberal applications of this stuff in strategic spots on your body can change your whole outlook. A real morale booster. It's just like a shower! (yeah, right) Chris Bartlett has been raving about this stuff for years, and I have scoffed. I DON'T SCOFF ANYMORE. I'm now a big fan:
See the "schmutz" in the bottom of the sight glass? It stopped our engine twice:
Jordi navvin' up a storm. Not literally. (Bad choice of words):
This is a SQUALL. A delightful little concentrated dose of gale force wind and torrential downpour. Avoid these if possible. Luckily, these show up quite well on the radar at night:
Who's THAT? He was with us on this trip for sure. Wassup, HP?!:
Lots of "chill time" when you're on a 38ft boat for four days:
Look who's back! Always a welcomed greeting:
Thanks, Johnboy, but I think I'll just look at the GPS if you don't mind. I, too, used to have that "thirst for knowledge". He's also trying to learn Spanish in two days:
There He is again. G'night, HP!:
YES! YES! I love America! And the colonized territories thereof! YES!! Today I had McDonald's, Starbucks, Sizzler, and found these gems while ducking into a convenience store during a downpour earlier today.... coincidence? I think not. I bought four:
Cruise ship mania, Old San Juan:
I fly outta here for Florida this Friday, for the Daytona 500 and Van Halen. Very much looking forward to those.... let's see what kinda shenannigans I can get into here in San Juan before then.....
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