S/V Drifter: Westsail 32 A boat, a dream and a plan
"Twenty years from now, you will be more disappointed by the things you didn't do, than by the things you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover." (Mark Twain)
As my father's life drew to a close early 2006, I took a sabbatical, that we might share precious time before his passing. This period crystallized the cliche "life is short". With both enthusiasm and trepidation, my father shared those aspects of life that he found most rewarding and most regretful. Though his life was full, he clearly then subscribed to Twain's prescription, albeit too late to effect an impact.
During this time, and in retrospect thereafter, I've rekindled a long-held dream to see the world from the deck of a small boat; to find freedom, open air and adventure, and to find it on the sea.
"We each must choose our own path through life. Do we follow the course laid out for us by others, or dare we chart our own destiny? Brainwashed by our economic system, we become entombed beneath a pyramid of time payments, mortgages, and preposterous gadgetry and playthings that divert our attention from the sheer idiocy of the charade."
"The years thunder by, The dreams of youth grow dim where they lie caked in dust on the shelves of patience. Before we know it, the tomb is sealed. Where, then, lies the answer? In choice. Which shall it be: bankruptcy of purse or bankruptcy of life?" (Sterling Hayden - Wanderer)
In sailing through life, we all must take our turn at the helm -- our time on watch. Yet, in then end, time for each of us stands still, as sure as the sand will someday choke in the watch-glass.
Do I hear you muttering "mid-life crisis"? Perhaps. But I'll not be one to allow life to get in the way of living, discovering too late that my dreams were more than simply visions in the night. My dream to sail the oceans was set in mind in the mid-60s. Some 40 years later, that dream remains alive, and it beckons to be followed.
Though once intending a circumnavigation, I'm no longer compelled to see the entire world pass beneath my hull. I go then, not to set records nor to chalk the mark, but because if I go not, I will always regret having not fulfilled the dream.
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Learn more about S/V Drifter, her captain, and their voyage...
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PHOTOGRAPHS OF S/V DRIFTER'S CAPTAIN
Photographs of s/v Drifter's captain (Click image to view enlargement)
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PHOTOGRAPHS OF THE VESSEL S/V DRIFTER
Photographs of the vessel s/v Drifter (Click image to view enlargement)
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DRIFTER'S DETAILED SPECIFICATIONS & EQUIPMENT LIST
1975 32' Westsail Cutter
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Design & Build Specs
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Builder: Westsail
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Hull Material: Fiberglass
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Engine/Fuel Type: Single Diesel
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YW# 1891-1524861
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Engine Specifications
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Engine Manuf: Perkins
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Engine Model: 4-108M
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Horsepower: 50 HP
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Engine Hrs: 2,200
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Dimensions
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LOA: 43' 6"
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LOD: 32' 0"
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LWL: 27' 6"
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Beam: 11' 0"
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Draft: 5' 6"
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Bridge Clearance: 48' 0"
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Displacement: 19,500 lbs
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Ballast: 7,000 lbs
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Tankage
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Fuel: 70 gal
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Water: 60 gal
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Holding: Raritan Lectrasans
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Deck Config & Gear
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Hull fiberglass 1-inch thick below the waterline (ballast is encapsulated)
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Hull barrier coated with Vinylester resin (1998, no history of blistering)
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Stainless Steel Bowsprit, riser and Boomkin (replaced the wooden spars 2000)
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Stainless Steel bow pulpit and new aft pushpit - extra long (2000)
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New custom twin bitts forward, white oak
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Decks painted and non-skid renewed (no teak decks)
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Forward 8-inch bronze cleats moved off of deck and onto bulwurks
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Cockpit sole comes out with removal of 4 bolts for easy engine access
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Aluminum & teak companionway seahood (2001)
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Companionway Dodger
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Cockpit sailing awning
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Full two-piece boat awning for use at anchor
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Magma Propane Gas Grill
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Stainless Steel folding boarding ladder admidship
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Steering
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Tillerpilot
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Cape Horn Windvane (New 2000)
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Ground Tackle
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Canadian Lunch Hook: 45 lb CQR mounted on bow platform pulling 300 ft 3/8 inch chain and 300 ft 3/4 inch nylon
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Bahamian Backup: 45 lb CQR mounted on bow platform pulling 30 ft 3/8 chain and 500 ft 3/4 inch braid (for use when deploying the Paranchor)
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Chesapeake Storm Anchor: 25 lb Danforth mounted on cockpit railing pulling 12 ft 3/8 inch chain and 100 ft 3/8 inch nylon
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Simpson-Lawrence 555 manual windlass
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ParaAnchor parachute drag device
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Twin Bitts new two years ago
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Safety & Miscellaneous
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Lifelines replaced (2001)
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Two adult size SOSPenders
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West Marine 8 ft roll-up inflatable (new 2001)
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5hp outboard in good condition
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Avon 4 man liferaft in valise (new 2001)
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Extensive paper charts.
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Two SOSPenders - adult size.
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GPS/EPIRB
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PUR hand operated watermaker, new in box never used
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4 dry powder fire extinguishers
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Mast and Rigging
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Masthead Cutter Rigged
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Bridge deck traveller
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Lefeil aluminum mast and spars
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Staysail track on deck, with two winches under dodger
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Mast & boom pulled, stripped and repainted 2001
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Mast Steps to spreaders (2001)
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Forespar Rigid Boomvang (2001)
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Running backstays
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New Ancor marine grade mast wiring all around, (2001)
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New Forespar TriColor-Anchor, Steaming & deck lights (2001)
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New Ancor marine grade coax and Shakespeare vhf radio antennea (2001)
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Telescoping reaching / spinnaker pole on sliding track on front of mast (rigged like the Pardey's) (2001)
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100 % standing rigging replacement w/proper toggles and Staloc terminals plus back stay insulated for HF radio (2001)
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All halyards replace (main, stay, jib and spinnaker) extra long to allow hoisting from water level (2001)
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Mainsail, jib and staysail sheets replaced (2002/3)
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8 Winches
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2 large bronze in cockpit
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1 small in cockpit for furler
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2 large on mast for halyards (fed by rope clutches)
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2 small on cabintop for staysail
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1 small on boom for reefing (fed by rope clutches)
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Sail Inventory
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Working sail area 753 sq. ft. (all working sails extra heavy cloth for NE sailing)
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All sails by Kern Sails
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Main needs repair, 303 sq. ft. double reef points and battenless, foot shortened to improve weather helm and pointing
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Staysail 149 sq. ft.
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Yankee 301 sq. ft.
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Profurl furling on headsail (New 1999)
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Staysail hanked on for quick change to storm sail
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Cruising spinnaker
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Storm sails
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Electrical
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12 Volt System
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Four 6v golf cart batteries (house bank--new 2004)
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Two series 35 12v starting batteries (new 2003)
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One series 24 real emergency starting battery, completely isolated, just in case
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Balmar Max Charge Digital Regulator
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ZapStop regulator protection
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Balmar Series 91 70 amp alternator (wired direct to house)
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Echo Charge battery combiner (charges starting off of house, then isolates starting)
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Starting bank completely isolated from house bank
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two Blue Seas on/off switches instead of 1-2-both-off switch
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Two Seimans 55 watt solar panels
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PV7D Flex Charge Solar regulator
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Prowatt 600 inverter
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Link 2000 electronic two-bank battery monitor
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110 Volt System
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40 watt Prowatt Battery Charger
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Four outlets wired for 110 volt outlets with water tight deck plugs and shore power
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AC Switch Panel w/shore power polarity tester
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Four Winds II generator with optional towing cable and hardware for hoisting in the rigging and separate voltage regulator.
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Electronics
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Kenwood TS 440-AT Ham radio
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SGC Automatic SmartTuner antenna tuner in lazerette, feeds insulated backstay
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Furuno Radar
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Trimble GPS
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Polaris Hailer/Fog Horn
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Standard VHF
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Standard wind, speed, depth instruments (new 2001)
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Paines-Wessox 406 Satellite GPS/EPIRB Emergency Beacon
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Mechanical & Tankage
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Engine: Perkins 4-108M diesel (50 hp., fixed 3-blade prop)
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Water pump new 2004.
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Baha Fuel Filter.
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Automatic Halon Fire Extinguisher in engine room
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Mechanical oil change pump built onto engine
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High Pressure fuel pump and injectors rebuilt (2001)
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2 Racor diesel filters (one for port tank, one for starboard, plus engine filter)
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Fuel: 70 gallons, US (two aluminum diesel tanks in engine room)
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Water: 60 gallons US (two rotomold tanks under cabin sole)
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Electric & manual bilge pump
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Transmission rebuilt with new clutch plate, seals, bearings, fluid (2003)
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New shaft log (2003)
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Prop polished, balanced, repitched (2003)
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Prop polished, balanced (2004)
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New prop shaft (2005)
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New cutlass bearing (2003)
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New engine mounts (2003)
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PSS Dripless stuffing box
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Below Decks
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Ventilation/Cooling/Heating
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Hull insulated above waterline
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Marine Air air conditioning
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Force 10 propane cabin heater
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Two 27-inch aluminum framed Bomar hatches (one forward, one in saloon 2001)
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Three 8-inch and two 4-inch bronze opening ports per side (10 total, rebedded 1999)
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Interior lighting & electrical
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9 overhead incandescent fixtures (including 1 red light over chart table)
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1 temporary incandescent rigged in galley
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4 halogen gooseneck reading lights in main cabin
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1 aircraft style AquaSignal chart & reading light
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two mounted kerosene lanterns
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Wired for telephone with waterproof deck plug
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Galley
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Saltwater foot pump in galley
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Fynspray bronze freshwater pump in galley
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Single SS sink
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Shipmate 2-burner propane stove with oven
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Two 10 gallon propane tanks with electric shut off in galley (tanks & valves new in 2001) in sealed and vented compartment in lazerette
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Propane alarm
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Adler Barbor ColdMachine refrigeration (2002)
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Dining/Seating/Sleeping
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Dinette makes down into twin sized bunk
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Starboard seatee is real matress
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Starboard seatee is also rigged with lee cloth for sleeping underway
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Forward berth fills to make large berth (needs a king-sized sheet at head of berth)
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Head & Shower
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top of the line Lavac Head
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Lectrasans waste treatment
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Sink & foot pump in head
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Shower pan
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Raritan Lectrasans
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Storage
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Hanging wet locker
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Hanging dry locker quick converts to breathable shelf storage
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Ample storage for a family of four to cross an ocean
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Stand-up chart table with 4 drawers to port across from galley
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Sailing Statistics
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Ballast to Displacement Ratio: 36% (28%-40% optimum, relates to both ride and load carrying capacity)
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Displacement to LWL Ratio: 419 (heavy)
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Sail Area to Displacement Ratio: 16.26% (15-17 optimum)
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Capsize Risk: 1.58 (numbers less that 2 are good)
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Comfort Factor: 42.8 (25-50 range, 40 optimum. This estimates a boat's motion in a seaway.)
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In A Nutshell: The Westsails hold their own with more modern boats when it comes to performance--particularly when price, accommodations, load carrying ability and safety are factored in.
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ROBIN LEE GRAHAM - THE SCHOOLBOY SAILOR WHO PLANTED THE DREAM
The Schoolboy Circumnavigator
In 1965, National Geographic magazine began coverage of an adventure undertaken by a 16 yr old schoolboy, Robin Lee Graham. Robin was a bit older than me (okay... by 3-1/2 mo.), but he was about to sail around the world, single-handed. At the time, it was virtually inconceivable that any youngster would attempt such a feat. Most who heard the tale either listened in total disbelief, or simply declared Robin could not possibly complete the journey. His plans were sharp contrast to any voyages yet accomplished, and certainly without a massive boat, a load of high-tech gear and a good deal more experience. Robin's boat was only 24 feet in length and rather modestly provisioned at that. But Robin did indeed complete his journey. It took him five years and he even got married along the way. It was the journey of a lifetime and it was covered, in intermittent segments, in National Geographic' periodicals. I read each new episode with growing enthusiasm and wanderlust. Robin didn't make his historical voyage to set records, but simply to explore the world from the deck of a small boat. I knew, at some point, I'd follow in his wake. I just never expected to wait so long to start. What follows is a short synopsis of Robin's journey, excerted from Don Holm's book 'The Circumnavigators'. With the help of a ghost writer, Robin also wrote a book named 'Dove', which was later released as a movie. His journey was ground-breaking in the day when navigation and sailing equipment was still relatively low-tech by today's standards. But, it was an adventure that spawned many world cruisers... myself being one of the admirers who shall follow in his wake.
[Text from Don Holm's 'The Circumnavigators' , ch. 34]
Home is the sailor, home from the sea And the hunter home from the hill.(l)
ON HIS SIXTEENTH BIRTHDAY, MARCH 5, 1965, ROBIN LEE Graham said to his mother and father: "Know what I'd really like a boat of my own that I could sail to the South Pacific islands."
Most parents, upon hearing such talk, would dismiss it as impetuosity, but four and a half months later Robin stepped aboard his own 24 foot fiberglass sloop, Dove, a light displacement craft usually regarded as a day-sailor, and shoved off from Los Angeles for a shakedown cruise to Hawaii, a passage that took 22 1/2 days and was a piece of cake all the way.
Alone except for a pair of kittens, he entertained himself most of the way with his guitar and folk tunes, navigating the 2,230 nautical miles with the aplomb of a veteran topgallant hand. It was so easy, in fact, that once in the islands, it seemed the most natural thing in the world just to keep going on around. At first, he hoped to find a companion to share the adventure, but few schoolboys have parents as lenient as were Robin's mother and father. Then he made up his mind to do it alone, just as had Captain Slocum back in 1895-1898. But where Slocum had made his voyage at the end of a long career at sea, Robin would be doing it at the beginning of his, and if successful he would become the youngest person ever to sail alone around the world.(2)
So, at 11 A.M. on Tuesday morning, September 14, 1965, he said his good-byes again to his parents and departed Honolulu's Ala Wai yacht harbor. In spite of its small size, Dove was easy to manage and had been modified for ocean voyaging. There was a small inboard engine, supplemented by an outboard with a long shank. A steering vane designed and built by his father had been installed. As for Robin, although a mere callow boy, he was far from inexperienced. During 1962 and 1963, with his mother, father, and older brother, he had helped crew the family 36-foot ketch, Golden Hind, all through the Pacific islands. During that cruise, his father had taught him seamanship, celestial navigation, shipboard maintenance, and all the other skills so vital to bluewater voyaging. Robin was a good student, and along with his lessons, he acquired a deep love for the sea and sailing.
This background, then, explains why his parents were so "lenient" and understanding. Moreover, sailing around the world had been a lifelong ambition of Robin's father, but World War II and then raising a family had intervened. Robin had often heard his father talk about this, and perhaps by some psychological osmosis had assumed responsibility for fulfilling the goal.
His family had helped him prepare for the voyage, besides furnishing the boat. They had collected charts and navigation materials, food and supplies, a camera and film for recording his adventures, and a tape recorder with which to make on the spot comments.(3)
His father, it seemed, became more obsessed with the voyage than Robin, perhaps seeing it vicariously as his own. He threw himself into the preparations and outfitting, spending most of those last hectic weeks with his son. As Robin recalled later, it was a period when he and his father were the closest in their entire lives. Along with taking care of preparations, Robin's father had also become his manager and agent, and complex arrangements were made to sell the story of his circumnavigation to publications and broadcast media, and set up lecture tours. It was going to be one circumnavigation that made money or else.(4)
The only malfunction on the passage to Hawaii had been the vane steering. This was rebuilt by his father. He had aboard a transistor radio for news and weather and the WWVH time ticks. He later picked up a Gibson Girl war surplus emergency transmitter, which sends out an S.O.S. when cranked. He also had fishing gear, a .22 caliber pistol, and a large supply of recording tapes.(5) The newspapers prior to his departure, had called him the "Schoolboy Sailor," and he was well aware that his voyage was unique and newsworthy. His frequent long sessions with the tape recorder revealed this adolescent sense of destiny.
Leaving Hawaii with only $75 in cash, he made a perfect landfall fourteen days later at the British-owned Fanning Island,(6) only 12 miles square and 1,050 miles down course. Robin was a competent seaman, and shooting sights with a sextant on a 24-foot cork was child's play for him. When on deck, he always wore a harness with lifeline. He kept the harness on at all times, even when in the bunk below, so that all he had to do when he came up on deck was snap the lifeline to it. The only times he failed to do this on the entire voyage, he fell overboard and narrowly escaped being left behind once in the Indian Ocean and once in the Atlantic.
The further from Honolulu he got, however, the more lonely and homesick he became. He began talking almost constantly into the tape recorder. Among his stores, Robin had about 500 pieces of secondhand clothing, plus various trinkets for trading among the islands, in the naive belief that he could exist by bartering among the islands. He spent several days at Fanning, a former cable station, but now a copra plantation, and when he left he took a sack of Her Majesty's mail for posting in Pago Pago.
Only twenty miles from Tutuila, after two weeks of hard sailing, a squall buckled his mast and the lower shrouds parted. Robin felt like crying, but he lashed the wreckage to the deck and set up a jury sail. His engine could not cope with the wind and current. An airplane passed over. Robin showed a bright orange distress flag and fired flares, but was unseen. After anxious hours, he limped into Apia.
In Samoa, he received mail and supplies from home, including a spare sextant and a log spinner to replace one taken by a shark. Reluctant to set out, he decided to wait until April, when the hurricane season was over. This was a fortunate decision. On January 29, a vicious hurricane swept the islands and nearly wrecked Dove in the harbor.
On May 1, 1966, he finally departed. His only companion was Joliette, one of the kittens. The other had jumped ship. The passage to Tonga was enjoyable and now he had company in other world cruisers he had encountered, including the Kelea from Vancouver, B.C.; Corsair II from South Africa; Morea from California, Falcon from New Zealand. He was to meet the same yachts (and others)again and again at various ports. He reached Suva on Viti Levu, Fiji's main island, on July 1. He had only $23 cash, and since an airline ticket of a $100 bond was required by authorities, he had to prevail upon the American consul for a loan.
He enjoyed his stay in the Fijis more than any place he had ever been. In fact, here the voyage was nearly terminated for the first time. He had met through friends a girl named Patti Ratterree from Los Angeles another restless and curious young American who was traveling around the world on her own, stopping to work at various places and living mainly by her wits.
It was love at first sight, Robin wrote, and after weeks of an idyllic existence sailing among the tropical islands of Fiji, only Robin's firm commitments and his father's pressure could induce him to give it up and go on. So he and Patti split up, but agreed to keep in touch by mail and to meet ten months later in Darwin, or failing that, in Durban.
Leaving the Fijis alone, Robin met his father again in the New Hebrides. They spent the next few weeks together, then Robin sailed for the Solomons and his father took passage on an inter-island schooner, meeting him in Guadalcanal. His father stayed through Christmas, Robin's second so far on the voyage, and they had good times together exploring the islands, many of which had those familiar names from World War II, which his father's generation had come to know so well - Savu, Tulagi, Florida - where many of the natives still remembered the G.I.'s with fondness, never understanding why they did not return. They visited the rusted old hulks of ships and tanks, the weed-grown foxholes, finding bits of bone, pieces of rotted boots, bullet-pierced helmets. Robin was impressed by the sacrifices which his father's generation had made in those dark days. But now, he felt, this was his world.
At Honaira, Robin sold his inboard engine, which was useless. He earned additional money by renting his spare genoa to a local yacht going to New Guinea. On his eighteenth birthday, he wrote his draft board and later received a reply in Australia, telling him to check with them upon his return. He did not know then that it would be another three years before he would be home.
From the Solomons, he encountered calms and sticky hot weather, mixed with squalls and adverse currents. It took twenty-three days to cover the nine hundred miles to Port Moresby, where he spent three weeks on shore. On April 18, he departed for Darwin through Torres Strait and into the Arafura Sea, a heavily traveled shipping route. The many ships passing in the night kept him up until exhaustion drove him below. One night, while lying in the bunk, he heard a loud swish and felt something scrape the hull. He rushed up to see a large black unlighted ship disappearing into the night. He had escaped a collision by the thickness of a coat of paint. He wondered how many lonely navigators including Captain Slocum himself had near-misses, for just this reason unmarked, unlighted ships without lookouts, passing callously in the night.
Robin reached Darwin on May 4, and spent several weeks ashore, including a month working on a power station project, rigging guy wires on towers. The further Robin had sailed on his circumnavigation, the more disenchanted he had become with the idea. He would have quit back in the Fijis had it not been for his father and those firm commitments (the National Geographic magazine had already started running a series on his voyage). When his father first heard about Patti, he was somewhat furious especially when Patti showed up in Darwin. From that point on, Robin's relations with his father were strained at best, and may have contributed to his parents' breaking up their marriage. When his father first met Patti, he obviously considered her something of a tramp and an obstacle to completion of the round-the-world voyage. At Darwin, too, a National Geographic photographer showed up with his equipment and some firm instructions to get some usable material for future issues. Apparently, the principal sponsors of the adventure were also having second thoughts.
Before leaving Darwin, Robin and Patti agreed to meet in Durban, and this was probably all that kept the lad going during the next leg of the circumnavigation, across the Indian Ocean via Keeling-Cocos, Mauritius, and Reunion.
On July 6, 1967, he sailed again, his first landfall to be Keeling-Cocos, the family-owned autocracy and fiefdom in the Indian Ocean. It had been from Thursday Island to Cocos that Captain Slocum made his famous run of 2,700 miles in 23 days without touching the helm. Robin made the 1,900 miles from Darwin to Cocos in 18 days almost exactly the same speed as Slocum had recorded in the Spray. This was a pleasant sail, with little to do but fill his hours with sewing sails, making rope belts, taking photos of himself with a tripping line, and dictating into the recorder.
From Cocos to Mauritius, some 2,400 miles, it was usually all downwind, and once you leap off from Cocos there is no turning back. But only 18 hours out, running through a line of Squalls, Dove was dismasted again. Rushing out on deck to save what he could, Robin was thrown overboard as the boat lurched. It was the first time he had not worn his lifeline. By sheer fate, another lurch brought the boat within reach. He caught hold of the rail and climbed back aboard. Coming out of the warm water into the cold rainy wind, he was overcome by chills. He went below to wait daylight. He had 2,300 miles to go to reach Mauritius, and no chance to get back to Cocos. When daylight came, he was able to rig a small square sail from a bedsheet and set it on the forestay. This ripped out in the 25-knot winds, so he set an old yellow awning which he had to patch with a tea towel and an extra shirt. In this manner, he limped along through heavy seas and continued squalls for twenty-four days, averaging almost one hundred miles a day, and reaching his destination almost at his original E.T.A!
At Port Louis, he again met fellow ocean vagabonds the Shireen and Mother of Pearl from England; the Edward Bear and Bona Dea from New Zealand; Corsair II from South Africa, and the Ohra from Australia. Here Robin stayed to enjoy the local hospitality and to make repairs. The National Geographic Society shipped out a new aluminum mast from California by Quantas.
The next stop was Reunion, a beautiful but expensive place. After a short stay, he left in company with the Bona Dea and the Ohra for Durban. Three days later came the most violent weather of the entire voyage, with mountainous seas. For seventeen days, Dove was battered and pummeled, at times threatening to roll over and at other times to pitchpole. It was too unsafe to be on deck, so Robin spent his time in the bunk reading books and periodically talking into the tape recorder. Anything loose in the cabin soon became a flying missile. Doors were smashed, water ruined his flour and dry provisions, his tape recorder took a soaking. Robin held on and prayed for calmer seas, which came one morning with a gentle northeast breeze. Soon after he saw the coast of Africa and then was caught up in the heavy ship traffic caused by the closing of Suez. Then he reached Durban, crossed the bar, and tied up to the mooring at the Royal Natal Yacht Club.(7)
It was now spring in South Africa, and Robin had completed half his circumnavigation. And Patti was waiting here for him. They had decided to get married, but Robin was still a minor. He had to get permission from his parents. It finally came, and Patti officially became Mrs. Robin Lee Graham. They bought a motorbike which they named Elsa, and took off on a honeymoon to Johannesburg and the Transvaal. They had a wonderful time, one that grew more difficult to end the longer they waited.
Dove had to be almost entirely rebuilt and beefed up. The deck had been coming loose from the hull, several bulkheads were cracked, and there were signs of general deterioration. After much soul searching and pressure from parents and sponsors he got underway at last. The difFicult passage around the bight of Africa was the worst of the entire voyage. He made it by running close to shore and putting in frequently at available havens, beset by head winds and adverse currents. This was better, however, than the mountainous seas out beyond the 100-fathom line. With increasing exhaustion, he ducked into East London, Port Elizabeth, Plettenbergbaai, Knysna, Stilbaai, Struisbaai, and Gordon's Bay. At Port Elizabeth, he nearly lost Dove when the anchor dragged. The deck pulled away from the hull again, and opened up a seam which leaked. There were signs of rot in the plywood, and the layers of fiberglass were separating.
He confided in his secret journal that he had planned to scuttle the vessel here along this lonely coast and claim an accident, so he could quit this voyage and be with Patti. But something kept him going. At Cape Town, more repairs were necessary. This gave Robin and Patti another two months together, most of which they spent at a delightful old boardinghouse called Thelma's. They made many friends among the older people living there. One couple in particular they became fond of were a man about eighty-five and his bride, seventy-five, who had been married about five years and acted like newlyweds. Their happiness made Robin and Patti feel good and right.
From Cape Town, the next leg would be five thousand nautical miles to Surinam with a stop at Ascension. Robin acquired two more little kittens, Fili and Kili, which he named after the youngest dwarfs in J. R. R. Tolkien's The Hobbit. While Robin sailed on Dove, Patti would be on an Italian line, the Europa, bound for Barcelona. They made arrangements with the captain to keep a radiotelephone schedule, which was only partly successful, but did help Robin's morale.
The loneliness was the worst thing about the Atlantic crossing. When the weather was good, he worked positions, read books, sewed sails, listened to the battery radio, bathed, cooked, played with the kittens, talked into the recorder. In his log, on July 27, 1968, he recorded the third anniversary of his departure. It began to get to him. One day he found a Japanese float with two crabs and some barnacles clinging to it. Knowing the crabs would die in the open sea, he made a raft of plastic foam and sent them adrift in this. He even put the gooseneck barnacles on the raft so the crabs would have something to eat.
He sighted St. Helena but did not land. On August 23, he dropped anchor at Clarence Bay, Ascension, where he was welcomed by PanAm crews manning the tracking station. He passed Fernando de Noronha on the twenty-first, and picked up the coastal current off South America. On the twenty-fifth, he crossed the equator for the second time. On the thirty-first, he made the lightship at the mouth of the Surinam River, entered and went upstream to Paramaribo. The Atlantic crossing had been the worst of all, from the standpoint of mental and spiritual exhaustion. Moreover, he had fallen overboard again and this time barely made it back aboard as Dove sailed on. The sloop was literally coming apart, and each spell of bad weather increased his apprehension. Finally, Patti was not there when he arrived, and did not show up for several weeks. Meanwhile, Robin toured the back country with local officials and National Geographic Society staffers. When Patti arrived, she was flown in to the jungle to meet him, and they spent three weeks together.
At this point, Graham knew he could not go on. He told the National Geographic people and his parents and other sponsors. The NGS sent a top editor down to talk to him. His mother came out from California to see him and meet Patti for the first time. Robin put Dove up for sale in the West Indies.
Finally, a compromise was worked out. Dove was replaced by a new 33-foot sloop, manufactured by Allied Boat Company, Inc., of Catskill, New York.(8) There were more advances from articles to be published. The couple found a nice apartment on the leeward shore of the Barbados and settled down to housekeeping for a while. They toured the islands by motorbike, and Robin obtained part-time work.
The sleek new 33-footer was named The Return of Dove. It was delivered in Florida. He and Patti picked it up and sailed to the Virgin Islands, where little Dove was finally sold. The new boat had a depth sounder, a radiotelephone, a kerosene stove (Robin found alcohol unsuited for ocean cruising and as Eric Hiscock wrote, it is cheaper to buy bonded whisky in many places, than stove alcohol).
As soon as the hurricane season was over, the new boat was hauled and painted, and refrigeration installed. On November 21, Patti left on the S.S. Lurline for Panama. Robin got underway again. At Porvenir, they met again, explored the San Blas Islands, and motored into Cristobal, where they tied up at the yacht club.
Over the Christmas holidays, they visited friends, fixed up The Return of Dove a little, and on January 17, the pilot came aboard and the canal transit was made. At the Pacific end, they stopped briefly at Balboa, then sailed for the offshore islands for a couple weeks alone.
On Friday, January 30, Robin headed again to sea, and on February 7,he made San Cristobal in the Galapagos Islands. Patti flew to the airport at Baltra with her father and stepmother, Allan and Ann Ratterree. Another idyllic vacation was spent here.
On March 23, Robin departed on the long run uphill to Los Angeles. He now had 2,600 miles to go against some of the worst conditions of the voyage adverse winds and currents, coupled with frequent calms. But now, however, he had a working auxiliary engine to get through the calms, he had two-way radio, and even ice cubes. In spite of this, the little mishaps became major annoyances, and he at times gave himself over to periods of violent frustration, during which he would hurl things against the bulkhead and fuss over his inability to untie a knot in a line. The going was agonizingly slow, sometimes making only thirty miles a day. On April 15, he heard American ships on the radio. The next day, he raised the fishing vessel Jinita out of San Diego, which relayed a message to Patti's father in Long Beach. The next day the engine would not start and he had no more electric power.
The trouble was simple. He had forgotten to open the engine exhaust. The Jinita called him and reported that she was not able to reach Al Ratterree, while another boat, the Olympia, broke in to say she could relay and deliver the message.
Then Kili the cat began to go crazy, alternating between viciousness and limp whining. Everyone on Dove was getting channel fever.
The uphill beat was increasingly rough. On the twenty-fifth day, however, he was only 250 miles from Long Beach. On the twenty-eighth, he was about 100 miles away. On the twenty-ninth, he passed San Clemente Island. For the first time, the prospect of actually going home became a reality.(9)
His first impression of the California coastline was the stench of land and civilization. It had a raw, pungent smell of hot asphalt and concrete.
At 7 A.M., on April 30, 1970, Robin sailed in between the breakwaters of Los Angeles harbor, which he had left 1,739 days before in the first Dove. He had traveled 30,600 sea miles. He was five years older, now a mature young man, with a wife (pregnant) and his whole life ahead of him.
After the enthusiastic welcome by friends, family, and the television cameras, he set about to settle the draft board problem, and to enter Stanford University in his native state.(10) When the excitement had subsided, he and Patti enrolled at Stanford. Until they could sell The Return of Dove, they had little money, but were able to find a patched-up secondhand mail van and rent a one-room cabin in the hills near the campus. Robin worked at odd jobs around the campus. At one point, they had to live on fruit and vegetables Robin picked up behind a supermarket.
Robin had planned to get an engineering degree with architecture as his goal. But the young couple, after roaming the world, found they had nothing in common with others their age. At the most critical point in their lives, they had acquired experiences and attitudes that the average youth is never exposed to. Robin noted in his journals how sad it seemed to him to see some students coming to college right out of high school, ready to believe anything told them by cynical professors. He remembered one professor in particular, a Maoist, who preached passionately for bloody revolution in class, and was applauded loudly by those students who owned the most expensive Porsches and Jags.
That first semester at Stanford seemed longer to Robin than the first two years at sea. After one particular trying day in which he had to listen to the Maoist professor ranting about his new society in which "everyone would be equal and thieves would be treated in a hospital," Robin and Patti stayed awake all night discussing what to do. The next morning, they decided it was time to move on.
The Return of Dove finally sold, and as soon as the papers were signed and they had the money, they headed their battered mail van toward the northwest. They had discussed going to Canada to settle, but did not really want to lose their American citizenship. The next best thing seemed to be Montana, and it was there that they found what they wanted on a rugged 160-acre timbered homesite in the mountains near Kalispell. The nearest neighbors were three miles away. In the woods around them, they could find the fresh signs of deer, elk, and bear. They started by building a lean-to cabin from scrap timber. They cleared a garden patch and planted fruit trees. For the next six weeks, they stayed in the village where Robin took lessons in logging and forestry. With a mail order course, they planned to help educate their daughter, Quimby, and themselves, and meanwhile they would build a new and simple life style based on understanding and enjoying the natural world. The neighbors brought them some home-made cheese, wine, and bread. They stocked their cabin for the coming winter. Robin went about learning how to kill a deer or elk for their winter meat supply.
The thought of Patti and Quimby standing in the doorway of the cabin, as he came up the trail with a deer over his shoulders, brought back the words he had copied into his notebook from the gravestone of Robert Louis Stevenson in Samoa:
Home is the sailor, home from the sea, And the hunter home from the hill.
AUTHOR's NOTES
- From the epitaph on the gravestone memorial of Robert Louis Stevenson, written by himself before his death on Samoa
- Robin was the youngest to circumnavigate, but Dove was not the smallest. John Guzzwell in Trekka had already established this.
- Many voyagers, particularly those who sail alone, now carry tape recorders. If nothing else it provides the morale-booster of having something to "talk to." Behaviorists have found in recorded tapes a gold mine of research into how the human mind behaves under conditions of extreme tension and long periods of loneliness.
- See Dove by Robin Lee Graham with Derek L. T. Gill (New York: Harper & Row, Publishers, 1972). Also the National Geographic magazine, October 1968; April 1969; and October 1970. At this writing, Gregory Peck has announced that he will produce a movie based upon Robin and Patti's life, including the circumnavigation. A yacht like Dove sold for between $6,000 and $10,000 at the time. Another $5,000 would be required to outfit and prepare for ocean cruising.
- A better selection of a firearm would have been a .22 rifle or a combination .22/.20 gauge double-barreled survival gun In most parts of the world today, any kind of a handgun is regarded with suspicion, a completely ir rational and emotion-charged viewpoint, but a fact of life. The most recent voyagers have reported any kind of a firearm is now treated with suspicion and official red tape in most popular ports of call. They recommend none be carried -which shows how much the world has become "civilized" since Captain Slocum's day. Three-quarters of a century ago, every sailing yacht carried a sizable arsenal of weapons, and no one ever questioned it. Significantly, there was less violence at that time than there is now, when private firearms are illegal almost everywhere.
- The Fanning Island group includes Palmyra and Kingman which are U.S. controlled, and Christmas and Washington, both Commonwealth ad- ministered. They lie directly south of Hawaii and about halfway to Tahiti.
- The Ohra, a 25-foot cutter with an Australian skipper and Canadian mate, had left Darwin on a global voyage, but off Madagascar broke the rudder in a storm. A Japanese freighter came alongside to help, but damaged the boat. The two men had to abandon her. A day later the Ohra washed up ashore near Durban. She was salvaged with the help of a bulldozer
- This is the same firm that built Opogee, the first fiberglass boat to sail around the world.
- By comparison, it took Captain Harry Pidgeon almost eighty days to cover the same route.
- One reason for Robin's unexpected welcome was that he entered harbor as the fleet centered in the annual Ensenada Race was leaving. All the boats saluted him riproariously as they passed. He was also met by Al Ratterree with Patti and the family yacht at 6 A.M. with a basket of sweet rolls, melon, and champagne, before the customs and immigration officials and the press reached them. Robin remembered the babble of American voices seemed strange to his ears.
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Robin Lee and Patti Graham "all grown up"
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HISTORY OF THE WESTSAIL 32 - A SAFE & SUCCESSFUL BLUEWATER CRUISER
The Westsail 32 was a production fiberglass sailboat built between the years of 1971 and 1980. Approximately 830 were built, about half of them in kit form. The "W32", as they are often referred to, was very heavily built and has taken many people on trouble-free voyages and several circumnavigations. Often thought of as a slow boat, the long waterline and incredible load carrying capabilities of this vessel make it an excellent cruising boat. The Westsail was directly derived from the earlier Kendall 32, of which only a few were made.
Origins
The Westsail 32 design has a long history. The hull shape is descended from the double-ended pilot and rescue boats designed by the Norwegian naval architect Colin Archer. These boats were designed for extreme seaworthiness in the rough conditions of the North Sea.
The late 19th century Archer design was first adapted for pleasure sailing by William Atkin, who, in 1928, designed a 32-foot (9.8 m) double-ended boat called Eric based on Archer's 47’ pilot boat Regis Voyager. This design was later refined into Thistle, which replaced Eric's gaff rig with a bermuda rig. Similar boats made impressive voyages, including the wartime circumnavigation of Vito Dumas in Lehg II, designed by Manuel Campos. An Eric design shot to prominence in 1969, when Robin Knox-Johnston became the first person to sail single-handed and non-stop around the world; his boat, Suhaili, was hand-built in India to the Eric design.
The Kendall 32
In 1969, Californian Larry Kendall decided that a boat like Suhaili would make his ideal long-distance cruiser, specially if built in glass-reinforced plastic (GRP). A couple of his friends were also interested, and together they thought that moulding the boats from fibreglass would save some money. Kendall asked yacht designer William Crealock whether there might be a market for a heavily-built, long-distance, fibreglass cruising sailboat; Crealock's opinion was that "you might sell ten or a dozen". This was enough for Kendall to go into business, and Crealock set about converting the Atkin design to GRP, resulting in a hull shape essentially the same as the original Eric/Thistle. The resulting Kendall 32 was a limited success; the company was short-lived, however, and became insolvent after two years in operation.
Westsail Corporation
In February, 1971, S. Snyder Vick, a young electrical engineer, and his wife Lynne, bought the moulds for the Kendall 32 from Kendall Yacht Corporation. Kendall and five other employees were hired to continue production. Production started in 1969, beginning by finishing three boats for Kendall buyers for between $15,000 and $20,000 each; however, Crealock was asked to design a modified deck layout and interior, and the Westsail 32 was born.
The Vicks put in place an impressive promotional campaign, focussing on the world cruising lifestyle. The dream of buying a boat and sailing it off to exotic foreign locations struck a chord with a surprisingly responsive public; the company's quarterly magazine, Windbag, was essentially a forum to promote the boat, but had over 5,000 subscribers (all except boat owners paying for the privilege) at one point. Special "Owners' Boat Shows" were held, and owners were recruited as sales representatives.
Demise
Despite the company's sales success, it never achieved financial success. The usual practice of taking payment for a boat only upon delivery created a credit gap for the company, and this gap grew larger with the booming sales, as the number of boats in production at one time increased. This problem was exacerbated by the announcement of the new Westsail 42 and 43 in 1974; the new boats sold strongly from the preliminary sketches, but the larger boats involved an even longer build time and larger capital commitment. The commitment to deliver boats for a price agreed at the start of production made the company especially vulnerable to inflation in materials costs. In an effort to meet demand while reducing the strain on production, many boats were sold as kits. A book was written to accompany the kit, Ferenc Máté's From a Bare Hull; a later edition of this book is still selling as a popular reference on home boatbuilding. Also see "The Finely Fitted Yacht" by the same author.
The Vicks' business inexperience, and lax production efficiency, meant that despite technically showing a profit, the company struggled to stay solvent. The firm went into bankruptcy proceedings in early 1977. Although the company restarted under new management, the financial problems continued, and Westsail Corporation ceased operation finally in 1981. The firms' achievement remains impressive, however; in just ten years the company built some 830 Westsail 32s (as well as the 28s, 42s, and 43s built), a phenomenal rate of production for such a large boat, and made a lasting impact on the world of cruising yachts.
Design
The Westsail 32 is a heavy-displacement sailboat designed for ultimate seaworthiness. She is massively constructed, and fitted with a comfortable and roomy interior.
Construction
The construction is extremely heavy, which appeals to many prospective cruisers. The hull is made of hand-laid fibreglass, in 12 layers, alternating woven roving with chopped strand mat, set in polyester resin. This results in a solid hull whose thickness ranges from half an inch at minimum to almost an inch. This is considerably more than most equivalent boats. The deck is half-inch plywood sheathed in GRP; the bulkheads are also plywood, tabbed to the hull with fibreglass cloth. The ballast is 7,000 lb (3,200 kg), either lead and iron (earlier boats) or all lead, installed inside the keel (which is part of the hull shape) and set in resin.
The trade-off for the construction strength is weight; at 19,500 lb (8,800 kg), the Westsail is exceptionally heavy for a 32-foot (9.8 m) boat. This hampers performance, but on the other hand, Westsails are affected relatively less by the large weight of stores and equipment required for long-term cruising (2 tons or more is quite typical).
The 400 kit boats sold were (except for a few) sold as complete hulls with ballast installed and the deck bonded on; it remained for the owner to fit out the interior and deck.
Deck and sail plan
Most Westsail 32s were rigged as cutters; i.e. with a single mast, mainsail, forestaysail and jib. The forestay terminates on the bow; a six-foot bowsprit supports the headstay, and the backstay terminates on a short boomkin, bringing the overall length with appendages of the typical boat to 40 feet (12 m). The shroud chainplates are bolted to the outside of the hull, making for a strong and reliable design, with clear side decks, at the expense of some sheeting angle for the jib.
The deck layout is geared towards ocean sailing, with wide side decks giving easy access forwards, and high bulwarks with high lifelines for safety. The cockpit is very small; this helps seaworthiness, as the weight of water which can be loaded onto the boat by a wave is limited. However, comfort in the cockpit is not helped.
Interior
The payoff for the short cockpit is a surprisingly roomy interior. The boat's maximum beam, already roomy at 11 feet (3.4 m), is carried much farther forward than in most boats; coupled with a headroom of 6 ft 2 in (1.88 m), this produces a remarkably spacious interior.
A number of different interior layouts were produced at the factory, with an even greater variety produced by home builders of the 400 kit boats sold. A typical layout will feature a galley and sizeable navigation station with a quarter berth aft, with two sofas or a sofa and dinette, a head and hanging locker, and a V-berth forwards. A common layout had pilot berths behind the settees. The quality of finish in the kit boats varies enormously, with some being well above factory standards.
Performance and seaworthiness
The Westsail's no-compromise approach to seaworthiness is carried through into her sailing performance. The heavy, full-keeled hull makes for good tracking offshore, coupled with a safe-feeling and quiet ride, but with limited performance. The overall effect is that the boat will get to wherever it is headed, but that it may take a while. Nevertheless, the Westsail is praised by many owners for being able to make a reasonable pace, particularly with a good wind. Indeed, in the right conditions the boat can perform well, as seen in the 1988 Pacific Cup, won (on corrected time) by the Westsail 32 Saraband in relatively light winds. The same boat finished third in 1990.
The Westsail's seaworthiness is attested by many stories of groundings, rollovers, and even collisions with freighters survived by the boats. A well-known example is Satori, a Westsail 32 which was abandoned during the famous Halloween storm of 1991, but which survived despite being washed up on shore.
Impact
The Westsail 32 had a tremendous impact on the cruising world, and on the boat industry. The most immediate impact, of course, was on the 800-plus owners of the boats built. With her massive no-nonsense construction, the Westsail largely delivered on the promise of a boat that could take its owners anywhere in the world, and surprisingly many boats have in fact been sailed to exotic locations, even if performance was a disappointment for many owners. The overwhelming majority of the boats are still fully seaworthy, and hold their resale value very well.
Westsails continue to be cited as the epitome of a seaworthy cruising boat. In discussions of seaworthiness versus performance, the design is frequently cited as "one end of the spectrum" (for either good or ill). The Westsail's reputation is usually summed up as "built like a tank, but unfortunately sails like one too". Nevertheless, the boat is still often praised as a design which "has a larger, nicer interior; can carry more, is more comfortable to live aboard at anchor and during passages; will last longer; will be more forgiving of owner neglect and mistakes; has a better chance of surviving groundings and other mishaps; and quite likely will hold its value better".
The success of the Westsail spawned many imitations, and led to a huge revival in "Archer-Atkin" double-ended designs, with boats such as Babas, Tashibas, Pandas, Hans Christians, Lord Nelsons, CTS, Union Cutters, Alejuelas, Tayanas, Willards, Dreadnaughts, Prairie Cutters, Pacific Seacrafts, and more. Subsequent designs, however, have sought to improve on the Westsail's sluggish performance, typically featuring a cutaway forefoot, lighter build, and larger sail plan. Many of these boats were built more cheaply in Taiwan.
There are many aspects of the Westsail design that contribute to her suitability as a world cruiser. Many of these can be traced directly to her heritage. Others are related to the availability of modern buiding materials.
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The double ended full length keel sailboat is a sea kindly hull form that has a well balanced helm, and is easy for one person to sail. The outboard rudder is a natural for self steering gear when the captain wishes some time off. The hull is deep enough for all internal ballast that is bonded in place forever.
The canoe stern has been with mankind since the beginnings of civilization and have been especially popular in European countries, but they are quite rare, as they are difficult and expensive to construct in wood. In fact, the most exclusive sailboats Europe produced often had canoe sterns.
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Construction of the Westsail hull, is enormously rugged; it is 1/2" at the rail, 3/4" at the bend of the bilge, and over 1" in the keel. One 32 was T-Boned by an ocean freighter off the coast of California. No lose of life occurred and the boat was able to make port. It was repaired and is in service today. Another survived the "Perfect Storm" and except for the Coast Guard forcing the Captain off the boat survived the surf and is still sailing today. For most sailing experiences, the boat is considerably overbuilt. However, this excess material could be valuable if one had an unexpected encounter with ...anything out there.
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Westsail's hull to deck attachment is the strongest in the industry. The deck is through bolted and bedded in a flexible polysulfide which cannot crack, reducing leaks as much as possible.
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All rigging and deck hardware is oversized stainless steel. The exposed chain plates are readily accessible for maintenance. They are made of 1/4" x 2" stainless steel flat bars. Standing rigging is 1/4" 1 x 19 and turnbuckles are 1/2" with toggles.
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Westsail masts are extra heavy duty aluminum . Finished with paint, they need little or no maintenance.
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'S/V SATORI' - THE W32 FEATURED IN 'THE PERFECT STORM' STILL SAILS TODAY

In this photo, taken from a Coast Guard helicopter, it appears as though Satori has foundered and is awash. Actually, she is simply at the peak of a large roll. Had this been a moving image, you'd have then seen her pop back up like a cork. In all of the photos publicly available from the USCG, Satori is abeam (sideways) to the waves. If the Captain had deployed a drogue or sea anchor, the crew would have faired much better and might never have issued a distress signal. The vessel, however, sustained no damage regardless.
Capt. Ray Leonard
In 1965, at the age of thirty eight, Ray Leonard celebrated the completion of his doctoral examination by buying his first sailboat, a seventeen foot O'Day. He purchased his second sailboat, a twenty four foot Dutch built sloop in 1969.
In 1972 Ray sold that sloop and in 1974 bought Satori, a new Westsail 32. In the years that followed became a Coast Guard certified captain, earning his 100-Ton Masters license in 1988. He made several boat deliveries along the United States East Coast, usually with a volunteer crew. His first long distance trip was a delivery from Moorhead City North Carolina to St. Thomas in the U. S. Virgin Islands. In 1983 he was the navigator in a sailing race from Annapolis to Bermuda. They made the 800 mile trip in five days. The next year he delivered a new 39 foot C & C from Portsmouth, New Hampshire to Red Hook, St. Thomas.
In 1985 Ray retired from his job as Research Ecologist for the U.S. Forest Service. He continues to work various jobs: as interim president of a college, helping design a series of kayak trails along the Maine coast, as a deck hand on a research vessel, and consulting for environmental groups. In 1986 Ray moved permanently aboard Satori. Over the next five years, Ray made an annual voyage between the Caribbean and Maine while continuing to deliver other sailboats. By the fall of 1991 he had sailed 18,000 miles.
S/V Satori - A Westsail 32
The Westsail 32 is a Colin Archer designed double ended cutter. This style of vessel was originally used to bring a harbor pilot out to meet a large cargo schooner during the late 1800's. The harbor pilot and one crew member would set out to a rendezvous point where they would wait until the schooner appeared. The crew member would drop off the pilot and sail the cutter back to port by himself.
She is a short masted, heavy displacement rig. She weighs 11 tons and is designed for heavy seas. Eleven stays keep the forty foot mast secure. When the boat was built Ray requested heavy rigging to be certain that Satori could handle more severe storms. She is set up for long ocean voyages with a Perkins engine, a 70 gallon fuel tank and 100 gallon fresh water capacity. In addition to working sails there is a storm trysail and a storm jib. There are three manual bilge pumps, one electric bilge pump, three large gel batteries, two survival suits and an emergency life raft. The navigation and communication equipment includes a GPS (Global Positioning System), a SatNav (Satellite Navigation), two VHF (Very High Frequency) radios, a SSB (Single Side Band) radio, and three EPIRBs (Emergency Position Indicating Radio Beacons).
Her most important safety features are the thick fiberglass hull, thick decks, coach top, and small strong portholes. She is equipped for single handed sailing, with a wind vane for automatic steering under sail and an autopilot for automatic steering under power. Similarly built ocean cruising sailboats have survived rolling 360 degrees, pitch poling (being flipped lengthwise), or losing their masts. Fortunately, Satori has never seen such difficult conditions.
Every five years Ray overhauls Satori: he pulls the engine, replaces the lines, paints the deck and hull, has the sails refurbished at a sailmaker's in Rockland, Maine, and tests all safety equipment. The overhaul in the summer of 1991 took a month and cost five thousand dollars.
October 1991
In the summer of 1991 Ray was working at the Island Institute with Karen Stimpson and Susan Bylander. They were working on a recreational canoe and kayak route on the Maine coast. Karen and Susan were commercial artists using their skills to market the Institute and recruit volunteers. Over the course of the summer Ray had several lunches with them and they discussed Ray's sailing experiences.
In October he sailed Satori down to Portsmouth and provisioned her for the annual trip south. Crew was never an issue. Ray always planned to make the voyage alone, but should an old friend or a new acquaintance want to hitch a ride and experience off shore sailing, they were welcome to come. Crew congeniality and a positive attitude were more important than sailing experience.
Karen and Susan wanted to make the passage as far as Bermuda. They were to meet Ray in Portsmouth with their gear and be ready to set sail. Both women portrayed themselves as experienced sailors. Susan had said she had made a trip to the Azores and Karen said that she had served as crew aboard tankers; both of them were excited about the trip.
While moored at the Great Bay Yacht Club, Ray met up with his friends, Bob and Peg Fish. They had been living aboard the Stafka III, a Tayana 37, for several years. They were also going to Bermuda so Ray, Bob, and Peg decided to travel together.
At the Great Bay Yacht Club Ray made Satori ready for the trip. He brought on board enough dry goods and canned food for six months, filled the 100 gallon fresh water tanks and laid on 70 gallons of diesel fuel. Karen and Susan had planned to arrive on the 25th, but were a day late. Typically, Ray would spend a day briefing his crew about the boat, however, because of their delayed arrival and Ray and Bob's desire to get started while the forecast was good, they set sail at 5:15 P.M. on the 26th, immediately after Karen and Susan arrived. The tide was favorable and the two boats cleared the breakwater before dark.
The weather forecast predicted 15 to 20 knot winds (17-23 mph) out of the north-northeast, ideal winds for the passage to Bermuda. The first night the wind was light; they set one sail and continued under power. Ray always runs under power the first day to change the batteries and to checkout his radios, pumps, autopilot, and other electrical equipment. The newly rigged Satori was in top running condition when they left the harbor.
At sunrise Ray was on shift and felt the breezes picking up. He turned the engine off, set the mainsail, and oriented the windvane for steering. They were 50 miles off Portsmouth; the winds were 20 knots (23 mph) and building. The weather forecast from NOAH predicted a northeaster and accompanying winds of approximately 30 knots (34.5 mph). This meant that the passage would be fast and a little bumpy with six to eight foot seas. By afternoon the winds had increased to the predicted 30 knots. In continued conversations via VHF radio Ray learned that the Stafka III, ten miles ahead of Satori, was considering taking down sails to bare poles. Weather reports on the single side band radio indicated that there was a hurricane in the Carribbean heading toward Bermuda. With this knowledge Ray did not want to continue on to Bermuda and expressed his concerns to Bob on the Stafka III. Bob reported back that he did not think the hurricane was going to interfere with his passage and that he was going to keep on course to Bermuda. This was the last communication between the Satori and the Stafka III during the storm.
Lying Ahull
Not knowing what the two weather systems were going to do, Ray decided to wait to determine his next course of action. He explained his decision to the crew, took down all sail, double lashed the sails and the deck gear, battened down the hatches, closed the through hulls, and lashed the helm. The boat was now lying ahull, ready to ride out the storm. The two women remained below as the seas built to twelve feet. They continued to get weather forecasts every six hours on the SSB radio.
Lying ahull is a well-established technique for sailing in heavy weather offshore. It involves taking down all sail, lashing the helm, and staying secure below. The boat will lie beam to the waves and will roll. If the amounts of windage and drag (from the keel) are right, the boat will slip sideways through the water, giving way before the waves. Too much keel and the boat will get caught in the waves and tend toward knockdowns. Too little keel or too much windage and she will move too quickly across the surface. It's also important to balance the forces for and aft lest the vessel get driven stern first, as that can damage the rudder. This technique is explained in many sailing books, including Adlard Coles' "Heavy Weather Sailing" 9th edition 1992 and Michael Badham and Robby Robinson's "Sailor's Secrets" 1st edition 1997. Ray had used this technique with Satori several times and knew how she would behave. In October of 1987 Satori came within seventy miles of the eye of a hurricane and lay ahull in seventy mile per hour winds. Twelve hours later, the winds subsided and he was able to sail into Bermuda.
Ray decided not to try to make Nantucket, as this would have been dangerous. It would require getting into the harbor, avoiding other boats, and anchoring in heavy weather. During the travel to Nantucket, the crew would be on deck and risking injury from a boarding wave. There was little or no risk in staying where they were and lying ahull.
Heading into evening at the end of the first day the forecast indicated that the hurricane was still making its way north toward Bermuda and the northeaster was holding fast. Satori was between two weather patterns waiting for them to pass. Like any good boat, Satori will have a predictable, rhythmic rolling motion in most storms - she finds a dynamic balance in the wind and waves. Because this weather was from two systems, the waves were confused. In those confused seas Satori would roll unpredictably. This was less comfortable, but not dangerous.
While everyone was below lashed into their bunks, a wave came onto the starboard side and rolled the boat over. Satori was on her side for about thirty seconds before the weight of the keel righted the boat. The quick righting motion tossed many things about the cabin - including canned goods and books.
Approximately five gallons of seawater squirted into the cabin through the gap between the hatch boards and the main hatch cover. The electric bilge pump automatically pumped that water out of the hull.
This knockdown followed twelve hours of rough seas, and the crew began to panic. Both women were crying and saying that they were bound to die. Ray put on his safety harness, went above deck, clipped into a pad eye and reviewed the damage. The force of the water had bent the dodger, the cover for the cockpit. Ray unfastened it and stored it below. He came below, re-latched the hatch, and reassured the crew. The cabin was reorganized and cleaned up, and crew and captain settled back into their berths.
Secure in his berth with the boat ahull, Ray felt comfortable that the vessel would ride out the storm. Three times she had been at sea on the edge of a hurricane or tropical depression. In the past, he was able to sail to avoid the main thrust of the storm. The biggest danger was the possibility of being hit by unsecured equipment below. All the bunks had canvas side cloths to keep the occupant from being thrown out of bed and to protect him or her from flying debris. The boat was designed to address every nuance of a formidable storm.
A few hours after the knock down, Ray decided to try to lift the crew's morale. He went back on deck, safety harness securely fastened, and set a storm jib (about forty square feet of sail). He put the storm jib on the staysail stay so that he would not have to travel far forward on deck. This also moved the center of windage to the center of the boat and minimized the strain on the rigging if there were another knock down. While setting the storm jib was "doing something" and might help calm the crew, it didn't improve the bumpiness of the ride below.
When he went below he found the crew still in a state of panic. They were standing in the cabin rather than secure in their bunks where they would be much safer and where he had asked them to remain. The confused seas were still rocking Satori side to side. She was having a hard time finding a comfortable position. He was unable to convince the crew that this motion was uncomfortable but not dangerous.
Coast Guard
Satori was riding out the seas when a second knockdown occurred. While lying ahull in heavy weather a knockdown is always a possibility but not a severe threat. The boat went over approximately ninety degrees and again righted herself. During this knockdown the life raft was torn from its deck mount. Hitting the water the raft - as designed - inflated immediately and its strobe light began flashing. Ray went up on deck, checked that there was no damage to the mast or any of the radar equipment on the mast. The inflated raft whipping around at the end of its tether would have been unsafe, so he cut it loose. When he returned below, Ray and the crew stowed the few items that had come loose again.
This second knockdown put the crew into a heightened state of panic. They began to insist that they call the Coast Guard for a rescue. Karen believed that the boat was going to break up any minute. The captain explained that there was no need for a rescue and that Satori had been through this before and would ride out this storm. At this point, Susan and Karen were not listening and kept insisting that they wanted to call. Ray agreed to let them call, but only to give their position and status and to have the Coast Guard call their parents to relay word that they were all right. A Coast Guard vessel received this call and recorded it at 6:18PM: "Comms with S/V [sailing vessel] Satori in posit 29-49N 069-52W 3 POB [people on board] ... on course 260° T not requesting CG Guard assist just want someone to know their status"
Karen continued calling and contacted the freighter Gold Bond Conveyor. The message to the freighter was in a tone of panic. Poor reception led to miscommunication. The freighter understood the message to be a Mayday call, when in fact Karen was only supposed to convey the boat's position. Because she was facing away from him and because of the noise below, Ray is uncertain exactly what Karen said. The unauthorized Mayday was then relayed to the Coast Guard and appears in their logs at 11:15PM. Within hours a Coast Guard Falcon jet flew overhead and called the Satori on the short range VHF radio.
Ray transmitted back that the boat was O.K. but the crew wanted to get off. The Falcon stayed in the area and maintained radio contact. Sometime around 5AM a frightened crew member relayed more information to the Falcon. According to the Coast Guard records, "S/V [sailing vessel] Satori also reported losing fuel tank and power to engine" and "In the early morning hours, S/V Satori began to take on water". In fact Satori was not taking on water (a few gallons had come in on the last knockdown, but that was 12 hours earlier), she had never lost fuel or power to the engine. Satori had over half her original fuel, enough to run the engine for 40 hours. Ray does not know who made the 5 AM transmissions. These miscommunications and the frightened voices of the crew probably caused the Coast Guard to decide that everyone must be evacuated.
Within a couple of hours a helicopter flew over and raised them on the radio indicating that the Tamaroa, a Coast vessel, was going to try and contact them on the VHF. When the Tamaroa arrived and called the Satori Ray again reported that the boat was O.K., that he wanted to stay, but that the crew wanted to get off. The Captain of Tamaroa radioed back and told Ray that he had specific orders from Headquarters in Boston to remove everyone from the boat. Ray knew that if he refused the order to abandon ship he could loose his captain's license and Satori's Coast Guard documentation. His boat could then be prohibited from entering American ports.
Evacuation
The seas were still confused, but not severe. From the Coast Guard incident reports: "Seas 30 Ft., Winds 015/40 [knots] with gusts to 55 kts. [knots]". There were no 50 or 60 foot waves during the evacuation. Satori was rolling in an irregular way, but experienced no knockdowns on Wednesday. Ray's primary concern was the crew's safety.
The Tamaroa launched Tam1, a 21 foot inflatable boat. The inflatable came along side Satori and passed over three immersion suits. When they approached Satori the second time from behind Ray yelled to them not to approach from the stern. He was concerned that the steering vane, which extended a couple of feet aft of the deck, would puncture the inflatable in the rough seas. The inflatable crew did not heed his warning and sustained a puncture. Because of the punctured pontoon, the inflatable could not remove the crew from Satori.
Having failed to remove Satori's captain and crew by sea, the Coast Guard now looked to the skies. The helicopter had been standing by and called Ray to discuss how to remove them from the deck. Ray was still not convinced that he was going to desert his vessel, but he was going to cooperate in removing his crew. The first plan suggested was to try to lower down a harness and lift them directly off the deck. Ray expressed his concern that this could be dangerous since they could be struck by the mast or rigging as they were being hoisted above. The chopper crew agreed. The only alternative left was to pluck the crew out of the water. This would entail jumping overboard to meet a Coast Guard swimmer who would be lowered down with a basket.
Ray decided to obey the Coast Guard's order and abandon his vessel. He unhooked his safety harness, headed below and packed his passport, money, camera, and the valuables he could grab into a waterproof orange bag which he tied to the front of his lifejacket. Knowing that he was turning over all responsibility to the Coast Guard, Ray opened the liquor locker and toasted a farewell to Satori, tucked his prized bottle of Gossling's Bermuda rum into his foul weather jumper, and then proceeded back on deck. He noted Satori's position and course so he would know where to search for her.
Back on deck Ray unharnessed the crew, placed life jackets on them and himself and arranged everyone on the outer rail of the leeward side. Ray directed Karen and Susan to jump backwards into the water. As Ray jumped into the water the waterproof orange bag caught in the rigging, was torn off his life jacket, and landed on deck. Satori's four foot freeboard and the waves made it impossible to get back on deck. The bag would apparently be washed overboard with the next boarding wave. In the water he directed the rescue swimmer to take Susan first, then Karen, and finally, himself for hoisting to the chopper.
Once on the chopper the swimmer realized that there was one more task to be accomplished. The crew of Tam1 had not made it back to the Tamaroa because of the punctured pontoon and the rough seas. The swimmer descended back into the water and retrieved the three men. Ray was tired after three days of heavy weather and the water rescue; he slept during the helicopter ride to Cape Cod Ray. Just before their arrival, one of the Coast Guardsmen told Ray that there were news reporters waiting. He was angry with the Coast Guard for ordering him off his boat and did not want to speak with the press.
Ray and a crew member went out the door away from the press and walked into the Coast Guard station. The Coast Guard splinted his broken fingers, and provided a shower, a dry set of coveralls to wear, and a hot meal. He was debriefed for an hour by various members of the helicopter crew where they exchanged ideas that could be useful in future rescue missions. Ray's son Kent drove down from Boston, picked him up, and put him up for the night.
Recovery and Restoration
Early the next morning Ray wanted to go and retrieve his boat. He knew she was floating at sea and was fairly certain about the coordinates where he could locate her. Before leaving the boat, Ray had lashed the helm, and made certain that the storm jib was sheeted in tight. He had been tracking their course and could easily calculate Satori's position. Before setting out to recover his vessel he had to replace his glasses and make arrangements to replace his credit cards and other documents.
As he was about to drive to the New Jersey coast in Kent's car, the Coast Guard called to tell him that a Navy vessel had spotted Satori off of Ocean City New Jersey. Ray asked the Coast Guard if they could go out and tow his boat back to harbor. Their reply was that they were not authorized to retrieve private vessels and offered him the phone number for Sea Tow, a commercial towing service. Ray phoned Sea Tow, gave them the position where she had been spotted, and hired them to transport Satori back to port while he drove to New Jersey. He expected to arrive at about the same time as Satori was towed in; unfortunately they had not found Satori. Now that her position was known, anyone who found her could make a claim on her (whoever recovers an abandoned ship has a legal claim to a portion of her value). Time was important.
At first light on the Sunday 3rd of November Ray hired a plane and flew to the area where he thought she was located. It took about five hours searching from the air before he spotted her. He then hurried back to the Sea Tow office to set out for the retrieval process. Satori was still approximately fifty miles out at sea and by the time he reached the area where she was seen the boat again eluded him. So he returned at dark after being bounced around on six foot seas on Sea Tow's twenty-four foot fiberglass motorboat, Shamrock. The next day he set out for yet another small coastal airport and hired another plane. They flew all day and again could not locate the boat. On Tuesday he drove on to the next airport down the coast and hired a plane to continue the search. This day they were lucky and located her once again. Once more he hired a fast boat and went back out and couldn't find her. Part of the difficulty with locating Satori was that the planes Ray hired did not have sophisticated navigational equipment. He could only estimate her location by using a dead reckoning. On Wednesday he hired a special ocean surface search aircraft equipped with down seeking radar, and a GPS. The plane was based out of Cape Cod and was used to spot schools of whales. While the specially equipped plane searched for Satori 25 miles off shore, another smaller plane Ray had hired was combing the nearby beaches. The smaller plane spotted her on the beach at Maryland's Assateaque State Park. At the same time State Park rangers also found Satori. The orange waterproof bag of personal belongings, which had been torn off in the evacuation, was still on the deck.

Sartori on the beach at Maryland's Assateaque State Park after the storm.
The first attempt to get Satori off the beach was carried out by Sea Tow. Their boat proved too small to move the eleven ton Westsail. Ray hired a dragger, a sixty foot fishing vessel, to pull her off. This time they dislodged her from the sand and she sprung back into the water floating comfortably. While the boat had remained on shore the Park Rangers guarded the vessel and were extremely helpful by digging a channel to the sea, which made getting her off the beach much easier.
The dragger captain towed Satori back into port in Ocean City, Maryland. Ray had not seen or heard from his crew since he left them at the Coast Guard station on Cape Cod. He got on the phone and called his friend Rick Dearborn to help him clean up the boat and sail her to Moorehead City, North Carolina, whence he skippered her solo to Ft. Pierce, Florida. The total cost of retrieval was $10,000. All the damage that Satori had endured was from the beaching. There was no damaged sustained in the storm after the evacuation.
Bob and Peg Fish arrived in Ocean City Maryland a few days after the storm - Stafka III came through with no problems. Ray continues to live aboard and sail Satori. Since October of 1991, he has sailed over 6000 miles, found himself in similar sized seas and lay ahull at three times. He has heard from Karen twice. Once when he took Karen out to lunch and once when he ran into her at an Island Institute meeting. Each time she was very congenial and chatted about their adventure. He has never heard from Susan.
If there's something to be learned from this experience, it is appreciation for the help you get when you need it most. Ray would like to thank the Rangers at Assateaque State Park, Sea Tow, his son Kent, Rick Dearborn, and all the friends who offered support during Satori's recovery.
Is it any wonder that yachties and others look at this film again and again?
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LINKS TO OTHER CRUISER'S WEBSITES, FOR A BETTER LOOK AT THE CRUISING LIFESTYLE...
Links to Other Cruisers
The following links are provided to give additional insight into the cruising lifestyle.
Links open new windows, so you may need to turn 'popup blocking' off in your browser.
s/v Zora • The cruising adventures of the Collins family aboard Zora.
s/v Mico Verde • Warren & Stephanie, cruising in the South Pacific on another Westsail 32.
s/v Sea Muffin • Tony and Francine are hard at work getting their steel boat ready to take an extended cruise as a floating bakery...
s/v Windom • Ilana and Britt's excellent web site about their cruising (and fishing!) adventures in the Caribbean and Bahamas. Check out the really great Bahamas Guide, recipes, and cruising costs pages.
s/v Sereia • Possibly the most entertaining cruisers' web site out there. Don't miss the video, "Pimp My Ride"!
s/v Atom • 20 years worldwide voyaging on a 28-foot Pearson Triton. Excellent writing and resources.
s/v Billabong • Fish-crazy cruisers, sailing the South Pacific.
s/v BlueJacket • Geoff and Sue have been sailing in the western Caribbean for six years and offer tons of great information.
s/v Hawk • Beth Leonard & Evans Starzinger's web site.
s/v Ithaka • Bernadette and Douglas have been sailing in the western Caribbean for several years now. They left two years before we did and were a big inspiration to us. Their web site is a great read!
s/v Minke • The Kettlewell family's blog about cruising in the western Caribbean. Good reading!
s/v Mystic Rhythm • South Pacific logs, good provisioning advice.
s/v Elvina • Krister & Gunilla on their Swedish OE 36 in Trinidad.
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View slideshow of scenes along the way.
Enjoy a collection of slides, representative of the sights along the way.
(Many were taken during previous trips and some were gathered from alternate sources.)
© WebbWebs Consulting, 2006
All documents on this website are the sole property and copyright of WebbWebs Consulting.
No duplication or modification is permitted without written permission of the author.
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