A Sail of Two Idiots (3 page)
Read A Sail of Two Idiots Online
Authors: Renee Petrillo
101 Inspect Your Gadgets (and Gear)
J
ust like every hobby or sport, sailing has its own lingo. Some terms are used interchangeably and can get a bit confusing, so I thought I'd address a few here. A
jib
and a
genoa
(
genny
) are the same thingâa front sail. Usually a genny is bigger than a jib though. Ropes in particular are renamed according to their function. If ropes adjust the wind in your sails, they're called
sheets
. Then they can be
mainsheets
(for the main!) or
jibsheets
(when adjusting your front sail). If the rope will put your sail up/down or in/out you're talking about a
halyard
. If you're lucky, your boat will have
lazy jacks
, which are ropes that run the length of your mast and help guide your mainsail down into a nice, orderly pile on your
boom
(the horizontal metal or wood beam that holds the bottom of your mainsail taut when it's up or stores it when it's down). The rope you use to tie off your dinghy to various objects is your
painter
. Michael and I spent a lot of time pointing to ropes and simply calling them
lines
, which is the generic term for ropes on boats.
Aft
is front.
Stern
is back. If facing forward,
port
is left;
starboard
is right. A
galley
is a kitchen, a
head
is a bathroom, a
cabin
is your bedroom, and a
salon
is your living room. Or is it
saloon
? Ah yes, as with all language, boat terminology is evolving. What old salts once called a saloon many newbies (like us) now refer to as a salon, whether describing the main living space on a monohull or catamaran. You might use one or the other term depending on what part of the hemisphere you live on as well. For
A Sail of Two Idiots
purposes, we'll use salon, since that was, in fact, what we called it. Ready to climb aboard? Anchors away!
W
elcome to
A Sail of Two Idiots
, a book not necessarily
for
idiots. If you are reading this, it is probably because you've always wanted to sell all your stuff, move onto a boat, and sail toward paradise, but you aren't sure you're smart enough. Or maybe you already own a boat but still aren't sure you're smart enough. Of course you are.
Look at us. I had done some sailing on little Sunfish sailboats and the occasional Hobie Cat but had never understood the nuances of sailing and, to be honest, never planned to try. My husband, Michael, had no sailboat experience at all, nor was he concerned about this omission in his life. Our cat, Shaka, didn't know squat about boats either and, had he a choice, probably would have liked to keep it that way.
Despite our lack of experience, we managed to sail ourselves throughout the Caribbean, meet lots of great people, explore over a dozen islands, and end up calling one of those islands home at the end of our journey.
The question you should be asking yourself is not whether you can manage the technical aspects of sailing (of course you can) but rather whether you want to become a full-time liveaboard. Your answer may surprise you.
There are plenty of books that teach you how to sail and how to prepare your boat. All were helpful to us and should definitely be a part of your library. Some tomes glamorize the lifestyle, teasing you out to sea, while others relate horror stories, sending you back to terra firma. Either way, it can be hard to see how their chronicles and tips might apply to youâkind of like learning algebra but having no idea why you need to know it and when you'd ever use it.
A Sail of Two Idiots
is all those other books wrapped up in one, including stories, lessons, advice, and encouragement. You're going to read them and think we're nuts, and then you're going to go out and do the same thingâonly without all the mistakes because you'll have learned from ours.
This is not a comprehensive book by any means. There are so many dumb things you can do while sailing that I couldn't possibly detail them all here (although we certainly put a hefty dent in them). I suppose we were more inexperienced than dumb, but some things we did were just plain stupid. We made more than our share of screwups and thought we'd write about them so you don't have to do the same.
Oh, heck, who are we kidding? You will make a fool of yourself so often you'll be able to write your own book someday. At least once you've stopped laughing,
or crying, you'll remember that you were not alone! Others were laughing at ⦠I mean
with
⦠you too! Boaters are an empathetic bunch. Whatever mistake(s) you make, just remember that all seafarers have either done the same thing or pulled off a feat even more embarrassing, so try to keep your sense of humor.
Your experience with sailing will probably be the best of times and the worst of times. I know ours was, but what a fantastic adventure we had! Come ⦠break out the rum, put on some Jimmy Buffet, and let's embark on the adventure that was
Jacumba
.
Whose Idea Was This Anyway?
S
o what drives a person to even consider buying and living on a boat? Two words: midlife crisis.
That's right. Muscle cars and dating high schoolers are so passé. If you're really serious about regaining your youth, you buy a boat! I kid, sort of. Boaters are more likely to be middle-aged though (which means between 40 and 90 years old these days). By then they've had time to accumulate enough money to buy a boat, maintain it, and eat and do fun things tooâin that order. Whatever your age, you'll want to ensure that you have the strength and energy to do manual yachty things for whatever length of time you want to sail.
Potential boaters might be on sabbatical or enjoying early retirement. “Kids” (under 40) might want to get their wanderlust out of the way before they settle down and start a family. Seniors who have been sailing only on weekends or vacations can finally take off for good. You may even run across a few blokes who live and breathe the sea and have figured out how to make a living being on the water. Lest you think that boating is just for couples or men, you'd be surprised how many families you'll see out there with infants to teenagers and, yes, a few hardy solo women ply the seas as well. Folks of all sorts decide that they've done what they were supposed to doâthey had jobs, earned pensions/401(k)s/retirement savings, and raised their kids, and so can now run free. Dogs? Cats? Yep, they're out there too. There's a mishmash of people in the sailing world, which is what makes it so much fun.
Nothing personifies the idea of freedom more than boating. Just about everyone we've ever talked to about our experiences says the same thing, “Boy, I wish I could do that.” I don't think they really mean boatingâit ain't quite what they think it isâbut they like the idea of chucking it all and beginning anew. Do any of these people sound like you?
Michael and I were of the midlife crisis variety. We had just turned 40, didn't have kids, and didn't care about keeping up with the Joneses. We both had great, decent-paying jobs (mine as a technical writer, Michael's as a resort chief engineer); a small house in a town we loved for many years; and favorite restaurants, hikes, and TV shows. But we felt dragged down by the monotony of life. We were
sooooo bored! Okay, I was bored. My husband was just fine, but I needed something else and didn't have too hard a time convincing Michael that he did too.
So how did we decide that sailing was the answer?
Well, first and foremost, I was still on my quest for perpetually warm weather. I'd spent my whole life seeking temperatures that only a lizard could love. I had grown up in New York City and never liked the coldâever. College in Pennsylvaniaâbrrrr! I dreamt of California,
Southern
California, and when I finally had the money to do so, I moved there. But 65 degreesânot warm enough! Next came Arizona, with summer temps of 110 degrees. Perfectâuntil winter brought frost and sometimes snow. Michael and I (by then a couple) gave it a valiant attempt, staying there 16 years (Arizona had a lot to like), but eventually the extreme temperatures got to us (Michael's a wimp too). Next?
The Caribbean seemed an obvious place to consider, but how to choose which island without seeing several? Even more baffling, how to do that with just two weeks' vacation? While reading several guides about the Caribbean, I couldn't help noticing all those pictures of sailboats anchored in various harbors. Hmm ⦠It dawned on me that buying a boat might be the way to go. We'd be able to see all the Caribbean islands (and more of the world if we wanted to) without worrying about how to get there and where to stay. Even better, we could bring along our 16-year-old cat, Shaka, while we looked.
I couldn't see any downsides to this idea. We could look for our new home while having a once-in-a-lifetime experience, and we might even make a few like-minded friends. Until now, no matter what state we had chosen to live in, we found it difficult to develop friendships. In New York, we were all workaholics; in California and Arizona, neighbors just pulled into their garages and disappeared. Nobody wanted to come out and play! I wanted to play!
It took me a year to convince Michael to jump on board, but once the idea took root, he got completely behind the concept. Ironically, it's usually the male who wants to hit the decks and the female who has to be dragged aboard. (I do
not
recommend this, by the way. Anchorages abound with enough abandoned men to start a support group.)
Michael and I have never exactly been a “normal” couple. Lucky for me though, I married an open-minded guy, who looked at this as a new adventure and trusted me enough to know we'd be okay.
Mistake number one? Just joking.
Of course, you'd think we might have been concerned about our lack of experienceâMichael none whatsoeverâme limited to childhood outings. Pfftt ⦠a minor detail. We'd just buy a boat and then take lessons on it. How hard could that be?
How to pay for it? Sell the house. Where to goâeast or west? After much research, we decided to start with the eastern Caribbean because island hopping
sounded more fun than sailing down the coast of the Americas. Plus there seemed to be more books on the subject. We'd need all the help we could get.
Now all we needed was a boat. We decided to look for a sailboat rather than a motorboat because we wanted options. Who knew how long we'd be out there and where we might want to go? A sailboat would give us more flexibility, provide sails as a backup for the engines should they fail, and save on fuel as well.
So that's how two perfectly sane, successful people decided to become cruisers.
Next up? Boat shopping!
Monohulls vs. Catamarans
B
efore you get started, you have to decide what kind of boat you want. Some people are die-hardsâdefinitely monohull or definitely catamaran (not to mention power vs. sail). Some people feel so strongly about their favorite type of boat that it's tantamount to discussing religion or politics. Be careful lest you get launched into a dinghy without oars!
Because I feel pretty strongly about catamarans, we bought one; monohulls are like floating basements to me. Here are some pros and cons of each. To be fair, most of my monohull comments are based on preconceived ideas, observations, and Internet research. Before buying our catamaran, the only monohulls we had been on were anchored in harbors or marinas and were just fun places to drink beer. My pros and cons are purely subjective, and I may have exaggerated a bit (a lot?). Our cons may be your pros. But my comments reflect how Michael and I saw the boats and why we chose the type we did. If you don't already have a preference, try both types and make up your own mind.