Cold and Happy

We've been back in Virginia for almost three weeks now. It's taken that long to be able to take a moment and put some thoughts down about everything.

We flew into Dulles and were greeted by 30 degree weather, a talkative cabby and a warm bed at Amanda's sister and husband's house in Arlington. Waking up the next morning, it all became very real. The boat was sold, our lives were changed, our future...a tad uncertain. Looking at the pile of stuff (two tough-bins, four suitcases and a couple of surfboards) in their front room that comprised 80 percent of our worldly possessions made me feel a little homeless, but at the same time I felt loved and taken care of. Living in California was wonderful. We met folks who constantly overwhelm me with their friendship and visited places that made me say "wow" at least once a week, but spending time with our families once or twice a year had taken a toll. We missed these people. We miss our California people, too.

We spent the first two weeks bopping from one family to the other. A few days in Arlington, a weekend at Brad and Leah's cabin in WV then a few days at my parent's new house in Harrisonburg before heading to Amanda's mom's house near Harper's Ferry. Everyone has offered us a place to stay, anytime, for however long. With my usual rapidity, we'd bought a car, phones, I'd gotten a haircut and found a job on the Spirit of Washington, a dinner boat in D.C. Amanda is hot on the trail of her coffee career and I'm waiting to hear from Univ. of North Carolina in Wilmington. We've been busy playing with our adorable niece and our rascally nephew, who at this time is a highly contagious pink-eyed rascal. So for the meantime, this is home, as in our families' homes.

There's tons of things that I miss about cruising already, and I'm sure there will be more as time moves on. We learned a lot about ourselves and the world. We learned more about how to take care of and love each other, how to navigate the mercado municipal, how to live on fresh fish tacos and beans. We learned how much we love sailing and travelling. We learned that there is a huge world out there to explore, and that we have a lifetime to do it in.

A Mixed Bag...

So I am sitting in the airport in Panama City, waiting for the flight that will take us to DC. Liberte is now in the capable hands of Tom and Kathi. We are headed "home." I put that in quotations, because who knows what that really means. We are headed back to where we grew up, and many of our family members live, so that feels like home, but we haven't lived there for years. We are leaving our "home," Liberte, here in Panama. We're not returning to California, which felt very much like home for the last 5 years. So, it's a little mixed up.
I think it's still a little early to be able to process a lot of the emotions that go along with this. I am excited about the future, I am sad to leave this amazing adventure behind. I am grateful for all the support we've had, both from people we just met and those who have known us our whole lives. I am worried, I am relieved. I am really concerned about the weather where we're headed.
We have had a lot of adventure packed into the last seven or so months. We have weathered storms and seen incredible sunsets. We have laughed and shaken in anger. We have made fools of ourselves, and felt like we've conquered the world. I beat Chris at chess at least once. So that's an accomplishment.
One thing that Chris and I would often say when headed into a new port was, "We've never been this far before." It feels more true than ever now.

Busy in Panama

Sailing by the stern of a giant tanker just south of the canal entrance.

Selling the boat was something that I never thought very much about before a few weeks ago. At times we had ideas of holding onto her after we were settled on the east coast. Trips to the Caribbean, up and down the coast; we were going to share our love of sailing with our family onboard Liberte. It's going to have to be on another boat though.

We have sold Liberte to a great couple, Tom and Kathi. They are retired, living on a small mountain northeast of Panama City. They've owned boats before and really love sailing. They don't have any deadlines or busy schedules. They've been looking for a sailboat for a year and finally found the right one. I'm a bit jealous of them, actually.

The past week was a bit of a whirlwind. Our brother in law, Brad, flew down to lend a hand. We got the boat prepped for showing off. Liberte was spic and span, neat and stowed. As we were waiting for our first appointment to show her I wondered why the boat isn't always this neat. Luckily the week wasn't all work and we made it to Isla Taboga for an overnight and up to the Miraflores canal locks. I've never had an eye for business, so Brad's advice on selling was invaluable.

Brad's first fish on the spear.

Jerry, Amanda's father, flew in on the 7th, so we all had one Super Bowl of an evening together. Brad flew home the following day. So right now we are going through the process of accepting payment for the boat, going through her from stem to stern, introducing the Tom and Kathi to the workings of Liberte. We might have a ticket through the canal as line-handlers for a sailboat from the Netherlands. We'll know for sure whether it's a sure deal in a day or two.

Right now I know we're making the right move. We've come up with a plan for the near future and are both excited about it. But, I know that on some breezy, sunny day a few months from now I am going to ache for the chance to toss off the dock lines on my very own sailboat and go for a jaunt.

Liberte for Sale

We've thought long and hard about our current situation and have decided we would like to sell the boat and head home. It's been an amazing trip, but a few things have brought us down recently. Our first mistake was attempting too much distance in too little time. It's been forever since we stopped somewhere and had the time to take two weeks and relax for a good spell, enjoy ourselves thoroughly. Knowing what we know now, I would have stayed in Mexico. I loved Mexico, the food was amazing, the surf was excellent and there was wind for sailing. Second, we've had too many repairs to handle in the past month and are out of patience for it. Third, I think I might be giving my wife an early head of gray hair. Amanda is a worrier, and I think she's starting to worry a tad too much. Forth, we miss our people, our friends, our families. I never had a doubt that Amanda and I would be able to spend this time together without strangling each other, actually I think it's brought us together more. But, we miss the rest of the people in our lives.

So, Liberte is for sale. We're at the BYC in Balboa. Below is the For Sale posting. Anyone interested feel free to comment with contact info.

1975 Formosa Ketch. 38' LOA. Kept in SF Bay for the past 6 years and cruised for the past 6 months. Full keel, heavy, safe, ocean-going design. 28 hp Universal 5424 diesel engine with 850 hours. New alternator, and 3 year old Hurth transmission. 12 gallon tank with 3 jerries on deck, room for more. Recently repaired flywheel casing, no oil leaks. Furuno 1623 radar up to 16 NM. 80W BP solar panel charges 3 house batteries, a 31 group and 2 brand new 24 group lead-acid. 1000W inverter. 2 Garmin handheld GPSmap 76s for navigation. Full set of charts of American and Central American Pacific coast and Panama to FL via Yucatan. Two anchors on bow, one 35# plow with 80' 5/16 chain and 300' of 1” double braid and one 33# claw with 70' of 5/16 chain and 300' of 5/8” three strand nylon. Spare 45# danforth, 7# Fortress and 15# fisherman style anchors with spare rodes. 3 headsails, 2 mains and one mizzen sail. Sails in used but good condition. Standing rigging replaced in 2008. Running rigging 1 year old. Installed and handheld VHF radios. 9'6” Achilles wood bottom tender with beach wheels, with 6 hp 2009 Tohatsu outboard. Waeco Coolmatic refrigerator.

Cruised for 6 months, ready to return to States, eager to sell. Vessel is valued in survey and insurance at $33,000 USD, asking $15,000. ALL offers considered.

Update. Just arrived in Panama City, at BYC. Engine is having problems, bogging down. Might be problem with injectors or dirty fuel. Currently seeking mechanical help in Balboa.

Coffee In the Mist

I don't know if coffee is a sacred drink in any culture, but it does have its fair share of reverent devotees, a group to which I can wholeheartedly say I belong. My mornings would not be the same without it. My day begins with the sound of grinding and the kettle being plopped down on our little alcohol stove. The aroma of brewing gets my brain functions set to go and my first sip is almost always accompanied by an “ahhhh.”

So when Chris and I wanted to take a few days off of the boat to explore inland Costa Rica, we decided to go into the mountains and check out Monteverde. The region is known as a cloud forest, a high altitude rainforest featuring dense, moss and bromeliad covered trees and lots of wildlife. And, most importantly, it's where coffee grows, nestled in the steep valleys.

Having most recently hailed from near the famous wine-producing region of the Napa, Sonoma and Alexander valleys, it seemed natural to want to head out to the source of a favorite beverage, learn about it's peculiarities and taste the fruit of the labor that goes into it. Coffee, like wine grapes, grows in particular regions. It thrives only in the tropics and at specific altitude. Monteverde has these desired traits, and thus coffee is it's main agricultural commodity. We opted first for the eponymous Monteverde coffee tour, and we made arrangements for the tour as soon as we got into town.

We were picked up at the tourist center in Santa Elena and driven a little way down into the valley to the farm of a gentleman named Don Juan. The tour had only four people, myself, Chris and two young women, plus our tour guide, Alex. Don Juan showed us his processing area where he removed the husks of the coffee cherries, soaked and dried them before transporting the beans to the co-op to which he and many of the other farmers belong. He had a hand cranked machine that popped the beans out from the fruit and he could do a couple of kilos in a few minutes. Then he showed us around his property. Along with coffee, he grew bananas, tomatoes, herbs and some other fruits. It is harvest season, so we picked a few cherries that were ripe on the coffee bushes. I think between the four of us we picked almost enough to make one cup of coffee. We finished up at his little house nestled among beautiful flowering plants for a cup of coffee and delicious fresh baked banana bread.

After the farm, we went to the Monteverde store and coffee shop where Alex showed us their roaster and we sampled the different roasts. We chatted with him a little about Costa Rican history, Fair Trade and the co-op and bought some coffee on the way out.

After bopping around town for a day or so, getting rained on and looking for wildlife, we stopped off at a coffeeshop called the Common Cup. Or rather, I should say we walked into a revolution. The three owners there are starting a farm-to-cup business, and their excitement is infectious. They're coffee farmers that decided to buck the co-op system to grow, process, roast and sell their coffee themselves, without middlemen. The Common Cup is their roasting space and you get a great cup of coffee there, but most of all it serves as a way to meet their potential long-term customers. They are shipping directly to anyone in the U.S., and with competitive prices. So the model is: you go to Costa Rica, visit this great coffee house, and want to take a piece of it home with you. Buy some coffee, love the coffee, and order it online when you get home. It's a way for the farmers to make a better living and for customers to get great coffee because the farmer/roaster/seller has more of a stake in making his product excellent. Chris and I were so taken with their whole shebang that we signed up for their tour the next morning, and stayed for an hour or so that evening to watch the roasting process.

The farm tour the next day was amazing. We drove down into the San Rafael area, about 20 kilometers from Santa Elena, to visit the Santa Marta farm. It's an incredible place. Using many sustainable practices, the farm grows coffee, sugar cane, a few other crops and has pigs, horses and chickens. The pigs' waste and fermented coffee skins produce methane that the home uses for cooking. Hardly any water is wasted during the coffee processing, as the washing water is recycled for further use. Greenhouses are used to dry the coffee, and to produce some hydroponic crops. The coffee plants themselves were lush and beautiful, planted on shaded hillsides in tidy rows. Our guide was both knowledgeable and inspiring, talking about how the coffee industry has influenced Costa Rica over time. Again, we were invited into the owner's home and given coffee and baked goods. In the humble kitchen there was a spirit of love and dedication that was nearly palpable, and we felt lucky to witness it.

Back to the Future

On my first assignment in the Coast Guard, the USCGC Campbell, we sometimes spent over three weeks in a row at sea and up to 3 months away from our homeport. Towards the end of my time there, after I knew that I was transferring to California and after I'd started dating a certain someone, I grew incredibly restless. The ship, whether through work or play, had a way of inserting itself into your life. You were kept busy enough that it was hard to get involved in much in the way of hobbies. It wouldn't have been impossible, and there is no one to blame but myself, but I just didn't develop much during those years. Since I was leaving, my responsibilities had been whittled down to mere supervision. I had a ton of time to think about my future. So, lots of time led to a few ideas bouncing around in my head, which I can't handle for very long before doing something about them. Before the patrol was over I had paid for half of a 1968 Hunter 25 sloop, located in South San Francisco. I didn't have any idea how to sail, but I'd learn. Amanda and I had also decided to move in together in San Francisco. She'd already driven out to Los Angeles and was living with her best friend there. I didn't have any idea how to live with a girlfriend, but I'd learn that, too. Some nights I'd try to sleep, only to lay there awake for hours thinking. Change was in the air.

Skip forward five and a half years and here we are, on a boat, thinking about our futures. For the past three years this has been our goal. We worked, saved and sailed in order to be where we are today. We were “the boat people.” Within five minutes of meeting someone it would invariably come up. Whether someone asked where we lived, what we did for fun, or what we had for breakfast, the fact that we lived on a boat and had a plan to sail her always came up. We were proud of it. I'm still proud of it.

So far this trip has been everything we thought it would be, and more. The “everything we thought” part has been great, surfing, diving, traveling, new people, new foods, new cultures. More, as in some of it has been a challenge. We might have under-estimated the strains of traveling as far as we have set out to; especially without an auto-helm. I'm not going to say that no one told me so, but someone should have grabbed me by the scruff and said “Boy, put an auto-helm onboard, don't be a dummy!” That, and a few other things that I had looked at as unnecessary luxuries (like shade and ice). But, we've been able to live without traffic, rude people (almost), cell phones, most of our clothes, the daily drivel of the news and all the other “benefits” that 21^st century life brings us. It's been a period in our lives without distractions. Things are rarely crystal clear, but right now it's pretty close. I think that without this time I might have jumped right into the next job that came my way. It might have worked out, or it might have led me to back into the woods. I got out of the Coast Guard because no one was going to grant me 270 days of leave to sail Central America. But, there were other reasons that have more to do with what I want to accomplish and become. It was a job I loved, but staying in meant moving up the chain and giving up the bits that made me happy.

So, while no one is relieving us of our duties or officially transferring us to our next assignment, we are spending time on what's next. What is next? We'll save that for later. But, it feels a bit silly to be on a boat off the coast of Panama on a beautiful, sunny day talking about what kind of puppy we might want, what kitchen utensils we'll need and what life will be like when we have to wear more clothes.

Rainy Days

We've caught up with rain, or rain has caught up with us. After the increasingly cloudy skies of Costa Rica erupted with a crazy lightning and rainstorm last week, we had a few days of sunshine then it down-poured last night and is drizzling today. It smells like a greenhouse here, fertile and damp. It's slightly melancholic, as rain will be, but also refreshing and renewing. And couldn't we all do with some renewal? Now if only we could get all the leaks to stop...

We are anchored out in Golfito, the last port in southern Costa Rica. It's an old banana port, a sort of "company town" and is still struggling to economically recover from when the corporations pulled out, years ago. It's situated on the Golfo Dulce, a bay surrounded mostly by steep, jungly hills. As Chris mentioned, there is a world class surf spot (actually two) at the mouth of the bay, and the Corcovado National Park on the north side. Golfito itself isn't a tourist hang-out, there aren't any fancy resorts around or eco-hotels dotting the hills, but it's a nice place to have the boat. It boasts a calm anchorage and the use of the generous services of Land and Sea, a cruisers' club/tour company that is a very welcome stop. With a well-stocked book exchange, morning coffee, and a convenient dinghy dock (not to mention the company of fellow boat folk), it's about all a wayward sailor could want.

Well, that and a little sunshine. After all, I've got laundry to dry.