Another strange thing, the berth at the marina has also been paid for. So the only thing we have to pay is the departure tax when we finally leave here around the 20th. Mind you, all I really want to do is sleep tomorrow
.
1st Officer’s log 15/08 point 18.
He did and all. Staci and I stocked up the cupboards, fridge and freezer. Was a bit like Old Mother Hubbard’s place to start with. At least I didn’t have to count the pennies or cents this time.
Captains log 17/08 point 16.
These engines are fantastic. It makes such a difference having two new engines. She goes much faster and smoother now. Visited a conch farm today. I’ve been re-reading the stuff from the Panama Canal. They only provide a pilot for boats under 65ft under special circumstances so we shall have to manage. I saw another shark today. I’m sure Lou reckons I’m making them up, but I’m not. Picked up a couple of dinghies as we lost ours in the storm. Actually, I’m quite anxious to get underway again. We’ve finished another two memory cards for the camera. Lou suggested sending all the discs home to keep them safe. If we do post them back to Nichola, we need to leave here before they arrive in England.
Captains log 20/08 point 23.
Well, we are under way again. We had the engines checked this morning and having been given the green light, we did a final food shop and topped up the water and fuel. I took her out and once we were clear, Lou took over. Staci has agreed to take up the kitchen duties again and I have rearranged the cupboards so she doesn’t have to climb up to reach dishes or glasses again.
We have just cleared the Windward Pass between Cuba and Haiti and are in the Jamaica Channel. Then into the Caribbean Sea and across to Panama. Lou’s posted the photo cards. I guess at least that way Nichola knows we’re OK.
It’ll take a few days to get back into routine of the shifts again I suppose. Oh, I’m tired. Still got another two and a half-hours to go.
1st Officer’s log 24/08 point 11.
The Caribbean is so pretty - even though we are not visiting any of the islands. The sun shines and sparkles off the clear blue sea. Staci and I went swimming in the sea today. Jim wasn’t impressed—muttered something about sharks. Needless to say, we took no notice and plan to swim everyday if we can.
Captain’s log 26/08 point 20 (local time—6hrs behind GMT)
Arrived at the Cristobal entrance to the Panama Canal this morning. As per the instructions they sent me, I contacted the Admeasurement office on the VHF channel. They then sent someone to measure
Avon
and do a safety and equipment inspection. They then gave me three forms. The first, so I could pay for the transit. The second a copy of the handline lockage request, and the third the release and indemnity.
We have been assigned a transit advisor who communicates with the locks and other vessels. As you need four people to handle the lines plus a captain to operate the boat, the admeasurement office have very kindly given us a pilot. We had to hire tires to put on the sides of Avon to avoid damage in case she hits the chamber walls.
Captains log 27/08 point 22.
In the Pacific. We did transit the Canal in a day. We tied alongside a Canal tugboat whilst in the locks. The ropes have to be taken in or let out in order to keep the boat straight in the locks as the water rises or falls. The first lock was hard, but they got easier.
The three locks took us up to Colon City then we went under our own power through the Canal, still with the pilot and advisor on board. The lock chambers btw, are 110ft wide, 1000ft long and 85ft deep. The Canal is 85ft above sea level hence the three locks at each end. On reaching the other side at Balboa Point, we went down the three locks, again manipulating the lines. We’re anchored there tonight. Long day. Must go to bed.
Captains log 28/08 point 16.
We’re off again. We got $800 dollars back this morning which I paid back into the account. The girls did some shopping—when don’t they? Staci did really well handling the lines yesterday. She surprised everyone, including herself.
1st Officer’s log 01/09 point 4.
Peace and quiet. Makes a change. Staci and I are still swimming when we can. Jim doesn’t like it but tough. It’s September already. Today marks the three-month anniversary of our leaving. Sometimes it seems longer. No mention of sharks recently.
Captains log 01/09 point 10.
Sharks. Sharks. Sharks. Just because I don’t mention them doesn’t mean that they’re not there.
Three months. It doesn’t seem possible. We have come so far and done so much. And yet still not reached our goal. Sometimes when it’s quiet I think how nice it is, that I could live like this forever. Then I remember Mum and Dad and just wish I’d flown or something in the first instance. Then when Staci is around, I realize that she needs more than I can give her. She needs a proper home, not this hand to mouth existence on this floating haven, at risk from everything 24/7. Maybe we should turn back. Before something happens. I have this bad feeling.
1st Officer’s log 03/09 point 20.
He does talk such rot at times. Sharks, bad feelings, wanting to turn back. Personally, I think this Captaincy thing has gone to his head. He needs to chill out. In fact I think I have the perfect answer—make him walk the plank. What do you mean we don’t have one? Since when has that stopped us? We’ll
improvise...
Chuck him overboard
.
Captain’s log supplemental.
They did, too. Rotten lot. I shall get my own back though. It may take a while, but I will be avenged. The question is not how but when. When they are least expecting it. I shall leave it for a couple of weeks and then when they least expect it…
Captains log 04/09 point 11.
Lou will no doubt moan, but I’m sure I can still see sharks.
The Pacific is the world’s biggest ocean I think—correct me if I’m wrong. Another five or six weeks, and we should reach the Philippines. Before then though, we need to make a decision as to what we do when we get there. If they send us back, we’ve come all this way for nothing
.
1st Officer’s log 10/09 point 11 and a quarter.
Break the mold. Why are the logs always written exactly on the hour anyway? I am so cross right now, I’m tempted to spoil his log on purpose.
Well, he has gone and done it this time. I’m not surprised I’m writing this. He daren’t show his face on the bridge right now. Jim and Deefer were messing around—chase or catch or something. Anyway, something flew onto the bridge through the open door and into the radio. Don’t ask me how but it did. Anyway, Jim decided he would fix it. (ROFL.)
The short story is the radio no longer works. It is defunct. Deceased. An ex-radio. So much for contact with the outside world. So my phone now lives on the bridge where the radio used to be. At least we still have that.
Captains log 13/09 point 13.
We’ve lost the phone. Or rather, I lost the phone. Lou isn’t speaking to me at the moment for which I don’t blame her at all. I had taken the phone out on to the deck to try out the ring tones. Staci had just washed the decking. I slipped and the phone went overboard. On its own, the loss of the phone would be no big deal. Coupled with the loss of the radio, it is nothing short of a disaster.
1st Officer’s log supplemental point 23 and a half.
Six weeks to the Philippines. That’s a long time. I know we didn’t use the radio much but it was there. Now the phone has gone too even landing anywhere will be difficult. Jim and his sharks don’t help much either. I’m beginning to regret this. We should just turn round and head towards mainland America and give ourselves up. Jim can fly the rest of the way while I take Staci home.
Captain’s log 14/09 point 14.
I know things are tough, and we have no contact with the world, but this boat is my home. We can get the radio fixed and purchase a new phone somewhere. There isn’t anything we can’t handle.
Right now, other than Mum and Dad being here with us, the only thing that would make life perfect would be fresh food. Fish would be nice. Fresh fish for dinner
.
1st officers log 25/09 point 17 and a little bit.
The weather has been cold and cloudy for a couple of days now. Good job we packed jumpers. Otherwise, we’d be cold. Staci and I haven’t seen any of Jim’s “sharks” so we reckon he’s seeing things. He had threatened to throw Deefer overboard to use him as bait. I’d like to see him try. Maybe we should throw him overboard instead. (Again.)
Captain’s log supplemental.
Despite what the others think, I know what I saw and have put a stop to swimming for a bit. Staci still keeps mentioning fish. We have the dinghies that we picked up in Grand Turk. Two of them. One fastened to the bridge roof and the other still boxed up on the bow. (Makes a good seat.) That one is quite clever. You literally throw it into the water and it opens itself out. Maybe I’ll take the other one out and go fishing one morning. The rate things are going the first officer is going to find herself in the brig for being rude to the Captain.
1st Officer’s log 2045 and then some.
I have nothing to say. Just wanted to wreck the log some more. It really does wind Jim up something chronic I forgot to put the date in. Oh dear, how sad, never mind. Do we care? No, we don’t, but I suppose I ought to really. It’s September 29th. But that’s not important right now. What is important is annoying Jim and defacing the logbook.
This log needs pictures in it. OK, what next.
What would really, really wind him up? i know what i could write all in small letters. i could write in lots of small letters i could leave out the punctuatuin an spel everfink rong while knot usin anyfink uver than smal letrs
OR IN CAPITALS LIKE I’M SHOUTING AGAIN WITH NO PUNCTUATION SO THAT REALLY SHOULD BE IM
Oricoulddoitwithoutspacessoitisimpossibletoread
And then there’s graffiti.
Hey, I never realized that doodling all over the log book would be so much fun. If only I had known, I would have done it months ago. What to do next? I know I’ll draw a shark. That’ll annoy him even more. Better still, I’ll do it in color. All the better to annoy him with. And on a new sheet of paper. Bwa ha ha.
I am having such fun I think I might do another one. What is the worst he could do to me? We don’t have a brig for me to spend seventy-five years in. Toss me overboard? Make me do all the cooking for a month? It would be worth it. He-he-he. If only I could see his face when he writes the next log entry. Unfortunately, he has the next shift and I shall be in bed. Oh well. On with more sharks. You know what, let’s combine his love of rainbows and sharks and make them multicolored. Jim and his technicolored dream sharks.
Perfect. Takes up the entire sheet of paper so it is better than perfect, it’s brilliant. I didn’t give the last shark any teeth. Too late. Here comes Jim. Better go. Night. Why did I just say goodnight to the log book? I must be tired. Either that or desperate. He-he-he.
Captains log supplemental point 23.
Cross? Cross? That doesn’t even begin to describe how I feel right now. Livid is more like it. Seventy-five years in the brig is not nearly long enough. Tossing her overboard is no good because she is too good a swimmer for that. Likewise cooking. I shall think for a bit and come up with something.
Captains Log 30/09 point 04.
Thought. I shall go and wake Lou in a bit. She should’ve come up and taken over at 0200 anyway, but I reckon it’s time to go do some fishing and she has to go with me. (Lou hates fishing.) And after defacing my logbook like that she deserves it. I’ll get the dinghy off the bridge roof and then wake her up. Watch out fish. Here we come.
13
Jim crept into the girls’ cabin and shook Lou. “Wake up sleepyhead,” he whispered in an overly sweet tone.
Lou turned over and groaned. She opened her eyes. “It can’t be two o’clock already?”
“Come on. Get dressed.”
“All right. Give me a minute.”
“No way.” Jim pulled the duvet off her. “Up. Now.”
Lou yawned and sat up. Still yawning, she went up to the bridge, dressed but not sure she matched. “Sorry,” she said. “What time is it?”
“Half past four. How does fresh fish sound?”
“Very nice, but I don’t see many fish shops round here.”
“I hear the sea is well stocked at this time of year. Coming fishing?”
“We can’t leave
Avon
unattended, and Staci won’t want to wake up. Not this early.”
“We’ll cut the engines and let her drift. There’s nothing on the radar for miles, except fish.” He turned on the fish finder screen and it lit up like a Christmas tree. “We’ve got a line, a net and the fish. Coming?”
“You know I hate fishing.”
“Oh, yes, I do.”
“It’s still dark.”
“Not for much longer.”
“And we don’t have any bait.”
“Bought some in Grand Turk. And quit your moaning.” Jim cut the engines and
Avon
slowed to a stop. “She should hold her position fairly well,” he said.
They let the dinghy carefully over the side of the boat and into the water. Jim climbed down the ladder into it.
Lou passed him his rod, line and two boxes and then climbed down the ladder herself.
Pulling out the oars, Jim rowed away from
Avon
.
“Jim, won’t Staci panic if she wakes and finds us gone and the boat drifting?” Lou asked.
“She won’t wake for hours. We’ll be back well before then. Besides I left her a note.” Jim replied confidently. He stopped rowing. “Here should do.” He set up his line and cast it over the side.
Lou settled back in the dinghy and closed her eyes. “There’s no room for me,” she complained sleepily. “Too much fishing equipment.”
“Stop moaning. Hey, wake up.”
Lou opened her eyes. “I’m sorry Jim. I’m just so tired that my eyes shut all by themselves.” She yawned. “It’s all this sea air.”