Late update.

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.