Whoops … been
neglecting keeping this up to date. Sorry about that. Consequently, this post will be a bit less structured than some of the others (don't be rude, they weren't all as chaotic as this one) as it's been cobbled together from some posts that I started to make and didn't finish, along with content from some interim emails that I've sent to various people.
So, what to report?
Finally made the Australian Ship registration thing happen. Yep,
Hellcat is now officially an Australian! This involved a fair bit of
email 'to and fro' with the Ship Registration Office at AMSA, but it
came good. I now have a Certificate of Provisional Registration which
is valid for six months, and allows me to sail home and complete the
rest of the full registration requirements in the interim. Actually,
the only requirement that is still outstanding is the 'marking',
which entails putting the 'ship' number and name on various parts of
the boat but that, weirdly, would have added several weeks to the
process, and I wanted to get sailing sooner rather than later.
Once I had that
document in hand I could approach the Customs and Border Protection
(CBP) authorities here and apply for a Cruising Licence. This
effectively allows me to sail around the US without having to do the
formal exit an re-entry process every time, although I am still
required to report my arrival and show the Licence when I change
locations. A change in location is loosely defined as moving from the
region covered by one CBP office to any place covered by a different
CBP office. The requirement to have one is, I guess, a product of
the American sense of vulnerability in a post 9-11 world. (Australia
has, to my knowledge, no such requirement of foreign flag vessels.)
Whatever its origins, the local authorities around this part of
California very rarely issue them. So when I wandered into the Port
Heumene CBP office and said I wanted a Cruising Licence, I was met by
blank stares by the first three people I spoke to. Actually the first
response was “Do you have an appointment?”, followed by “Bad
timing, we're all about to head out the door and go home”. My voice
may have been a little terse when I pointed out that a) their web
site doesn't mention making an appointment, and I had been on the
phone to their office twice that day and it wasn't mentioned; b) I
had walked several miles to get there; and c) their web site states
that the office hours are 9 to 5, and it was only 4pm. Then came the
blank looks about what I was asking for. Finally they directed me to
someone who had actually issued one several years ago.
After sifting through
their computer applications and advising me that the last time he did
one it was just hand-written on a form, he produced what looks more
like a letter than a licence, but it does say all the right things,
and has an impressive stamp on it. At the conclusion of the exercise
he handed it over, and I asked with some trepidation how much it
cost. I had read various figures of $35 to $500, and had come
prepared with $200. He looked a bit blank, and said, “It's a
free service, there is no charge”, which was both a pleasant and
novel surprise, which I tactfully declined to explain to him.
So I made the walk back
to the boat in good spirits. Did I mention that I had walked to the
CBP office? A mere 7-ish kilometres in a hurry, and I did the return
briskly as well, in the hope of getting in some sailing that same day. It wasn't to
be though as I got back too late and too tired. The reason I mention
it now is to explain why I have been limping for the last few days.
Oh, I really didn't mention that bit before. It's partly because I did the
walk wearing a pair of runners. It's partly because I did it in a
hurry. And it's partly because when I was a lad I accidentally cut
off the big toe of my right foot. (Weren't expecting that last one,
were you?!) It's a long story of which I wont go into the details.
Suffice it to say that it was sewed back on, in what was probably
'cutting edge' surgery (pun intended) in the early 1970's, but it
isn't fully functional. The relevant part of this is that
long-distance walks in shoes without adequately stiff soles place
inordinate strain on the calf muscles of my right leg. It's a product
of the way we walk, pushing off with the toes with each step … Oh
look, just take my word for it, OK? Thing is, I went to bed expecting
to wake up with blisters on my feet, which turned out to not be
there, and not expecting severe pain in my right leg, which was
there. And still is several days later, but only when I walk for a
while in runners. I guess it will come good, and I've discovered that
I can walk around without severe pain as long as I'm wearing hard soled shoes. Problem is
that hard soled shoes and boats do not go well together. Le sigh.
Right, that little
digression out of the way ...
Preparations continue
apace. The Satphone has arrived, but now I'm waiting on the
'pre-paid' vendor to activate the SIM card so I can actually access
the system. I've also made enquiries to another retailer about
establishing a 'post paid' account. So as things stand the Satphone
is currently an expensive paperweight.
As I may have mentioned
earlier, the boat came with a manual anchor windlass which was
thoroughly seized. I salvaged the gypsy (a wheel for reeling in
chain) and capstan, which handles rope, (Oh god, I've contracted
"Yachties' Hoarding Syndrome") and dumped the rest. I then
invested in a very pretty brand new and shiny electric windlass that
I'm getting a pro to install. It's a recently superseded Lewmar model
I got for $600, whereas they are usually well over $1000.
So,
now having a Cruising Licence, I've made two forays out of the pen,
each achieving about 3 hours of sailing. First sail went well, even
though the leech line on the Genoa snagged the lower spreader and
tore out like a zip coming undone. Second sail the footer tape on the
Genoa quietly detached itself along most of the sail 'foot'. On
inspection I found that the stitching (not the fabric) that is
exposed when the Genoa is furled has all but perished. The stitching
and fabric 'inside the furl' are OK. So the headsail is now with a
Sail-maker to have the sail-edge stitching redone and the head and
tack refurbished. For the non-nautical readers, the furler is a
device that rolls the head sail up to store 'in situ' rather than
having to take it down and put it back up again each time one goes
sailing. It also allows for the sail to be reduced in area for
sailing in heavy weather without having to change sails at sea. They
are a wonderful invention all round. But when the sail is 'furled',
part of the sail is still exposed to the weather, and as this boat
hasn't been used for at least a couple years, the exposed section has
deteriorated. Now if you read this paragraph again it will make more
sense. Or I could re-write the paragraph. Nah, you do the work this
time.
Otherwise we are nearly there. The 'sparky' (slang term
for an electrician) that's doing the Windlass is also going to
install the autopilot, a cranking battery, and probably a solar
panel. Locals are trying to talk me into buying an 80W panel for
$650, but I'm not convinced that I need that much, so I'm aiming at
about 40 watts that I can get for much less than half the price of
the bigger unit.
A rigger is coming on Monday to do my
masthead jobs, which consist of replacing the anchor light and VHF
antennae which are both severely deteriorated by exposure to the weather, and installing 2 (!) external emergency/utility halyards.
I've already made two trips to the first spreader, which is only about a third of the way up, and that's high enough for me, thank you very much. After that it's pretty much 'provision' and go.
As an aside, I've come
to the realisation that I have to stop even listening to local advice on
what one 'must have' fitted to one's boat. With one exception, all
the people that have made such advice have 'just the thing' available
to sell to me at a 'good price'. The one exception is another
cruising yachtie in a boat a couple of pens up the dock, who is also
preparing his boat for a south pacific trip. He did make one
suggestion that would have cost me several hundred dollars to
implement, but came back a couple of hours later and said “Thinking
about where you said you're going, you wont need that, so forget it,
your current setup is OK”. Nice old bloke, is Barry. Deaf as a door
post, but nice. I've started to interrupt people who say "what you need is ..." by saying "Don't tell me what it is, just tell me how much it will cost and I'll tell you if it has a chance of happening"
Another source of help has been the broker that represented the former owner in the purchase. He recently suggested that it would be useful for us to have a dinghy for getting around the marina and nearby shops, and before I could interrupt him as above, he added "I think I can get you one free. Old and needs work, but free". And he has done so. It is old, and needs work, but it was free. James has started on the repairs. The broker has also allowed me to use his frequent-buyer discount arrangement with the local chandlers, which has saved me something in the order of $200. Another nice chappie.
I had set the 22nd as a target departure
date, but with the Genoa being in a shop that wont look at it 'til
Monday, and waiting to resolve the Satphone, and the electrical works
that wont even start until Tuesday, that's pretty much certain to be
pushed back a couple of days.
Had a couple of lazy days this
weekend (I'm writing this Sunday night, local time). We've had the
first rain since about 6 weeks ago (a good leak test which revealed
only one leak to fix) with strong winds. All that and having no
headsail, means no sailing and instead catching up on 'in cabin' stuff, like
writing emails, experimenting with on-board cooking, and even updating this blog instead of the test sailing that I
would otherwise be doing.
Well that'll do for
now. Once again apologies for the long gap. I'll try to be more
frequent with updates until departure day.
