And then comes day three!

It is in about the third day when you enter “Cruise Mode.”

Cruise Mode is a state of mind not dissimilar to hibernation.  All of a sudden everything kinda goes into its own time zone.  The days actually seem to get a lot shorter.  It is about here in a voyage where you start to adapt to the time schedule of a cruising vessel.  You know, watch schedules, meals, stuff like that.  It all starts to go into automation.

On the dawn of the third day you are usually thinking “What the heck was I thinking?  It’s only been two days and we got another two weeks until we get back to land!  Am I nuts?”

Then you awaken on day four.  Magic has occurred!  You sit up on your bunk, and all of a sudden the annoying rocking and rolling has turned into a comforting sway.  You don’t even notice how your body adjusts to the swells and the heel of the boat.  It seems natural.

You grab a cup out of the cupboard and pour a cup of coffee.  The day before you spilled it because the %^$%$#!! boat wouldn’t stop moving!  Now you just swing the cup to match the motion.  You don’t even notice you are doing it.

As you leave the cabin and walk topside you hear a cheerful voice, “Good morning, sleep well?”  The person on watch is glad to see you, because now they have someone to talk to after a few hours alone with their thoughts, enjoying the dawn.

After awhile you grab your book and stuff a beanbag chair against the mast, making a comfortable nest, and drop your body into it. Soon you are lost in the world of literature.  Occasionally you’ll look over the top of your book, and just stare out across the blue water, letting your mind drift to a hundred pasts and a hundred planned futures.

Your reverie will then be broken by someone shouting at you to see if you’re hungry.  It’ll take a few seconds for you to figure if it is supposed to be breakfast, lunch or dinner.  Remembering it’s breakfast, you walk back to the cockpit, and enjoy the company of your crewmates, and some easy to prepare meal.

Soon, you’ll find yourself back in the beanbag, probably checking your eyelids for holes (sleeping!) when it’s time for your watch.  After awhile you start looking forward to watch.  Little rivalries develop, like seeing who will cover the most water during their watch, or what wildlife will be spotted.  Whales, dolphins or sea birds, and of course, the real prize, when a fish is caught!

The days start to run together.  Trying to remember when something happened on a crossing becomes a real game.  Actually, trying to remember what day it is becomes tough.  You know you are lost in Cruising Mode when you can’t remember what month it is.  Then you have entered Nirvana, a true cruising paradise.

By the end of a crossing you can’t recall over half the days behind you.  They just seem to run together.  On this crossing to Hawaii (see story, page 38), as we entered Hawaiian waters we didn’t want to stop.  We kept sailing for another 120 miles, past The Big Island, past the beautiful island of Maui and its old whaling capitol, Lahaina, and on into the channel between Maui and Molokai.

We sailed past the old wreck on the coast of the Island of Lanai, and felt the pull of the trades as we entered the Molokai channel.

Sailing on a downwind broad reach, we watched huge humpback whales jumping out of the water with what only can be pure joy of living. We wanted to do the same.

The truth of the matter is, you have to experience a little bit of hell to truly enjoy the bountiful gift of heaven.  The trials and tribulations of a long voyage are directly balanced on the end of that voyage by the feeling of accomplishment that fills you.

You put the last sail tie on, pull the sail covers in place, and pull into the harbor that signifies the completion of your voyage.  It is here that you will understand why sailors, for thousands of years, have left safe harbors,and challenged the sea!

Bob’s “Attitude” articles first appeared in Latitude and Attitudes magazine and can also be found in either The Sailing Life or Starboard Attitude books.

The post The Third Day Syndrome appeared first on Bob Bitchin.

Oh, it’s not like this is the first time I have done so.  Oh no, I am a pretty frequent screwup.  If they gave frequent screwup mileage, I’d be flying for free in first class all the time.  No, that’s not what I am getting at.  The thing that was bad about this was, I didn’t realize it until well after my mistake had been discovered by a whole bunch of people, and now I have to smile each time the story is retold.

Just so you know what I’m talking about, and so you won’t have to read the silly story to catch up, I shall simplify your life by giving a short recap here.  We were sailing a three boat flotilla out of Opua in the Bay of Islands, and it was raining so hard you couldn’t see the bow of the boat.  I was the lead boat, with Captain Woody and Tania following.  The boats we were on didn’t have GPS, radar or chartplotters, but I’ve been sailing for about 30 years and learned on a square rigger that was similarly equipped.  I trusted my senses.

In order to find our way into a good anchorage, I had to keep ducking below where the chart could be kept dry, and then coming up and trying to match landmarks with islands on the chart.  As we passed a small island, the downpour increased to where there was very little vision.  I was looking for a headland that I was planning to duck behind.  I saw a dark shape looming in the downpour and headed for it.  It seemed to be in the right direction.  Having sailed for so many years, you get “a sense of direction” that very seldom lets you down.  Even in a downpour, with dark clouds and blowing wind, I was sure I knew right where I was heading.

I went the wrong way!

The next day, when the sun had come out and things could be seen, I was asked where we were.  I pointed confidently to a bay on the chart and said, “Right here!”  I was very secure in my mind that that was where we were.  The contour of the bay was real close, and the depths were only slightly off, which I attributed to unfamiliar gauges.

When it was discovered that we were about a quarter mile away from the actual bay I thought I was in, I still didn’t want to admit I was wrong.  I was sure, from the sense of direction that had never let me down before, that I was right, even though all the facts pointed to my error.

A little later that day, after a thorough razzing by everybody on our voyage, plus all the cruisers anchored nearby, I was discussing my assuredness with Tom Brownell, a friend who was on the cruise with me.  Tom has been sailing all of his life and is a third generation boat builder out of Mattapoisette in Buzzards Bay, Massachusetts.  He had the same feeling.

I was sitting, looking at the compass, and saw we were facing north.  My “inner direction finder” was telling me I was facing south.  I asked Tom to point to the north.  Unhesitatingly, he pointed to the south.  I pointed at the compass.  We both felt so strongly about it we wanted to argue with the compass.

And then it hit us simultaneously.  We were unwittingly using our senses, which was what our sense of direction was based on, and for the past ten years we had both been sailing in the northern hemisphere.  Without even thinking about it, our minds were using the fact that, in the north, you get warmer going south.  No matter what time of day, even in a blinding rainstorm, there is always a little more light to the south, and that is what your brain bases your sense of direction on.

In the southern hemisphere, it’s brighter to the north.  The moss grows on the southern side of the trees, so to speak.

Now, I have sailed the southern hemisphere before, but it was always on my own boat after sailing across the equator, and I was able to “adjust” my inner compass over a period of time.  Flying down in an aluminum box at night, there was no adjusting my sense over time.

For the rest of our voyage “down under,” Tom & I had to look at the charts upside down.  It just “didn’t feel right” when we’d turn them right side up.  We were down there three weeks, and the feeling never changed.

The moral of this story?  Hell, there is none.  I guess I was just trying to justify my unwanted new nickname; “Wrong Bay Bob.”

Sigh.

Bob’s “Attitude” articles first appeared in Latitude and Attitudes magazine and can also be found in either The Sailing Life or Starboard Attitude books.

The post Bitchin Attitude – Wrong Way Bob appeared first on Bob Bitchin.

We’d timed our arrival well; the sun was just setting as the snubber line was attached to the chain, and we sat back with a cold one to celebrate another great day of sailing in the South Pacific.

All of a sudden we heard some voices, and two outriggers were pulling alongside the Lost Soul.  My first thought was to reach for the machete I keep by the nav-station as it was closer than the shotgun buried in the aft cabin.  Just before my hand closed on the haft of the long, cold blade I saw a smiling face looking over the rail.

Six young men filled the two canoes.  They were all large, and covered with tattoo’s.  My first thought?  We were about to meet our first real-life pirates.  This was from years of conditioning in a civilization that has bred violence as an artform.  But then it hit me.  I’m not in civilization any more!  This is Polynesia, and tattoo’s don’t indicate anti-social behavior, but are a sign of stature in the community.

Kewl!  I’m covered with ‘em!

Soon the six would-be attackers were sitting around the aft deck, singing some of the local songs and accompanying the songs with ukuleles they’d brought and a guitar we had on board.  They had rowed out to welcome us to their island.  A Polynesian custom older than any can remember.

We listened, laughed and even sang them a few songs from our home “island.”  You know, some Buffett and Beatles stuff.  Even though none of them spoke a word of English, and none of us a word of Polynesian or French, we spent two hours getting acquainted.

As they sang I broke out my video camera and filmed the intercourse between our crew and theirs.  The songs, the smiles and the hand signals were almost comical.

In fact, it was so comical I figured they might like to see the video.  After they’d finished their songs we indicated they should come below, to see the video on the T.V.

Once below they gazed around the Lost Soul in wonder.  I flipped on the TV and plugged the Video recorder into it.  In a couple of seconds their singing filled the air, and there they were in living color.

They sat there as if spellbound.  Then one of them recognized his friend on the screen, and he started to giggle.  They talked excitedly between themselves, and couldn’t stop giggling.

It seems this was the first time they had ever seen a television set.  The fact that they were starring in the video didn’t even hit them until after the first few seconds of being shocked at seeing full color moving photos with sound.

You see, being a typical ugly American, it hadn’t even dawned on my alleged brain that these guys had never seen a television.

In the next few days we were greeted each morning by two or three of our new friends, and they would take us to find particularly good fruits and vegetables growing on the island, and one day they led us to a beautiful waterfall in a small valley a couple miles from where we anchored.

In the days that we stayed there we got to know our new “friends,” even though we couldn’t speak to each other in words.  It wasn’t even a problem after awhile.  You’d say what you wanted to say and they seemed to understand, and when they spoke to us we would just seem to “get it.”

In the ensuing months, which turned into years, we would meet other people who we would get to know, in spite of the language barriers.  But none had such an impact as the first meeting, there in Fatu-Hiva, where I first realized that the most civilized people on earth are those we tend to call uncivilized.

What’s Bob Bitchin up to? – Follow Bob Bitchin and his antics on his Facebook Page.

Bob’s “Attitude” articles first appeared in Latitude and Attitudes magazine and can also be found in either The Sailing Life or Starboard Attitude books.

The post Bitchin Attitude – The Most Civilized People appeared first on Bob Bitchin.

In the morning we took the dinghy ashore, tying up to a small wooden pier on the shore. We wandered about a quarter mile up the gravel road to where we found a small store. They didn’t speak English, and we didn’t speak French, but there was no communication problem. They smiled, we smiled, and we walked through their small store. They didn’t have much to offer. Just some basics. However, on the counter there was a plate filled with fresh homemade sugar donuts.

We grabbed a couple and wandered leisurly back to the Lost Soul. I remember kicking back there on the foredeck of the boat. The sun was just starting to get warm and we were surrounded by lush tropical growth on the shore, as we munched on those great sugar donuts.

I couldn’t even remember what “real life” was like. We sat there talking about what people back home might be doing, trying to remember what it had been like. I remember thinking how it all seemed as if our past life had been a bad dream…a nightmare.

How could people live like that we wondered? Why would they?

Many months later, when we returned from that voyage, we stopped to visit our friends and families. We told stories of our adventures, and had countless “slide parties” where we would recount the adventures, and the misadventures.

As time rolled on the ordeals turned into adventures. The knockdown in the Aliniuihah Channel went from being a frightening experience to being one of the highlights of our voyage. As more time passed even fixing a broken head took on magical properties. The storms that seemed to roll on for days now dwindled in our memories to mere whisps of wind that lasted only an hour or two. The fear of our first time hitting bottom now became a point of pride. We’d always chime in with “There are only two types of sailors; those who have gone aground and those who are going to!”

We took off again, and sailed to the “other end” of the Earth. We visited ancient civilizations, met paupers and princes, dined in great restaurants and at tavernas in harbors that have been in use longer than mankind can remember.

And that voyage too, came to an end. After years we returned to our home base, and once again the slide shows started, and once again, in the telling, ordeals became great adventures. Selective memory is a wondrous thing, and before long all we could remember was the dream life we had lived for so many years. A dream, that’s what it all seemed.

I can still remember the taste of that sugar donut on Tahaa. I can still feel the grains of sugar caught in my beard, and remember with total clarity the way Jody’s hair gleamed in the surreal light of a tropical paradise, but it does seem more a dream.

And therein lies the truth of the matter. When you are out there doing it; living and loving life, you think back on your pre-cruising existence, it it all seems just a terrible nightmare. On the other hand, when you return to reality, what was out there seems more like it was a dream.

So the question arises, why would anyone in their right mind want to live a nightmare? And the next logical progression of this quandary is, why am I sitting here in a nightmare writing about dreaming?

Now, lemme see, where were those sugar donuts?

Bob’s “Attitude” articles first appeared in Latitude and Attitudes Magazine and can also be found in either The Sailing Life or Starboard Attitude books.

The post Bitchin Attitude – Sugar Donuts appeared first on Bob Bitchin.

Check out the video here!

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