Margaritas on Deck, Dark Clouds on the Horizon
The Devil in the Details
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March 8, 2022, late afternoon.
We left Magdalena Bay early the next morning, around 7 a.m. I was alone in bed when the engine rumbled to life and we began making our way out of the bay. We were blessed with another glorious day and calm seas. Dean is an early riser, so he would kiss me while he thought I was asleep, (even in my sleepiness, my heart always knew), then leave quietly to have his coffee, survey the scenery and see what the crew was up to; watching them, listening to them and trying to learn more about how our, (his) boat operated.
On our journey south along the Baja peninsula, the wind had exclusively been to our backs at a consistent ten knots, so without a spinnaker there was no way to effectively sail. A main reach was out of the question, (the crew had no experience or confidence in using the captive winches and it was all totally new to them, and as I outlined in a previous post, Eclipse, the maneuver can be dangerous), and we had to get much further South quickly, so motoring remained our only mode of power. The bright side was that the seas were mild and we were getting a good ten knots over ground consistently.
The delivery crew had committed to six weeks for the passage to Florida, but we were already five weeks in and hadn’t even reached central Mexico. Four weeks had been eaten up by preparations in Newport Beach. Of the five thousand or so nautical miles we needed to cover to reach Florida, we had traveled only eleven hundred of them. Dean and I were each silently beginning to worry; and deep down suspect; that we may not get where we wanted to be with our current crew - a problem we were aware of but dared not discuss. Honestly, somewhere in the back of both of our hearts was the comforting knowledge that God was firmly in control of our schedule; so we were not going to push overly hard for the schedule we thought we wanted. However, we held fast to the comfort that we were confident that Lloyd, at least, (with Brad signing off as the supervising captain for his hours and experience while on board Eclipse), would stay on and take over as captain once we reached Florida.
We were headed out the southern end of Magdalena Bay, our next destination being Puerto Los Cabos Marina in San Jose del Cabo, where we would get provisions. For those unfamiliar with the Pacific coast of Mexico, it is stunningly beautiful. Sea conditions in Spring are normally optimal for cruising; calm seas and a steady north westerly wind create a very pleasant ride. The abundance and variety of life in the sea in this part of the Pacific is overwhelming - God really showing off His amazing creation. Every type of fish, crustacean, plankton, jellyfish in every color imaginable - not to mention arguably the best sport’s fishing in the world - make this part of Mexico somewhat heaven on the ocean, especially for this girl raised on the West coast who still has sand and saltwater in her veins. We were finally far enough south that during the day we could stay on deck without a jacket. I spent many hours there, sunning with a pair of binoculars close by, watching for marlin, swordfish, dorado, tuna, whales, turtles, dolphin…this part of the Pacific is literally the world’s best stocked wild aquarium. The water is the most incredible shade of blue green close to shore, and the deepest most amazing blue off of it, thanks to the light sandy bottom of the sea.
I relished the moments I could just take it all in - because it was constantly annoying that instead of having the freedom to enjoy the journey, Dean and I were left with no choice but to manage problem after problem that our “professional” and well compensated crew could not. In the previous week alone, on one particular day I had managed eighty two separate emails and texts pertaining to legal, logistic, and other necessities for our trip. Whenever we had cell coverage, we spent every minute researching systems, motors, manufacturers, part catalogues and blogs, looking for answers to questions that we, as owners, should never have needed to ask. “Relaxing” had not yet entered our vernacular. We kept telling ourselves, “give it time”.
We had about 275 miles to cover to get to San Jose; just over a full day at ten knots. To get to the marina, we had to go all the way to the very tip of Baja then head back a little bit north around the other side of the peninsula and into the Sea of Cortez. We would run all night and into the following afternoon to arrive before nightfall.
Dean really wanted to get the sails up - we had purchased a sail boat, after all - and asked Brad if we could at least sail out of ‘Mag’ Bay. The reluctance of the crew, as captained by Brad, to put out the sails was really grating on Dean. He grumbled to me what seemed like a hundred times a day - which in turn, was grating on me. It was our insistence on the Catalina trip which had led to the discovery of the issue with the voltage regulator, something Dean brought up to me often, (like, every day). The crew had spent four weeks preparing Eclipse for this trip - but had taken no time to learn how she operated. They needed to get used to how the captive winches and rigging worked. They needed to understand how the electrical system worked, the PTO system worked, how to transfer fuel, use the hydraulics and where to check for leaks, make sure the auto pilot functioned, if the diesel fuel was clean, how to clean the filters on the main engine and generators, how to empty the gray and black water tanks, make sure the air handlers and A/C worked….on and on. I, in particular was flummoxed by the battery system. I had never been on a boat that could not go on batteries at night; and Eclipse’s battery banks and electronics were new. Yet Brad and Lloyd insisted we could not go on batteries as there was no “battery” setting on the controls.
The crews non-use of the boat’s systems and sails was making Dean and I uneasy; boats, even more so than houses, suffer more failures from disuse than from using them. Eclipse is a floating city, with its own water, electricity, sewage, compressors……not to mention three different types of electrical power delivery and three diesel motors. Her winches and the hydraulic system were just another added layer of complexity. Receipts showed that the starboard genoa winch had been completely rebuilt in England at great expense right before we purchased her, and the surveyor had not called out any issues with the other five winches, so we assumed everything worked. Yet, in spite of the millions of dollars and two solid years of work invested in her, she had not been out on the open ocean since 2016. Add to that the brutality of a harsh marine environment where pumps, valves, connections etc. are not being maintained and those things can erode, quickly. Reminder: Dean was an Engineering Officer on a Navy frigate. He was one of the people tasked with keeping everything working below decks, and his knowledge of all this was not ancillary.
So when Dean started to suspect that Brad did not intend to sail at all on our way to Florida, all this background knowledge started really eating at him. Eclipse is a sailboat! Not only that, but motoring twenty four hours a day gets exhausting - and boring. So Dean kept at it - persistently needling Brad to put up the sails - and Brad, in turn, using factual excuses that were completely reasonable but overcomeable, continued to persistently decline.
We later found out why.
About ten days previous, while we had been asleep and Brad was on watch, he had put out the stay sail for some stability and a little bit of extra speed. I remember the night - the “zzziiiiinnnngggg” right over out heads of the sheets going back and forth woke us both. Unfortunately, because he was unfamiliar with the winch and hydraulic system, he had jammed the sheet in the winch and in trying to untangle it using the hydraulics, destroyed it - which he, oops, forgot to mention to us. Under those circumstances, it was no surprise Brad was so reluctant to put out the genoa, or any other sail for that matter.
That morning, the wind was light and there were no boats around as we headed out of the bay. With our western heading, the wind was blowing directly abeam for the next ten miles until we left the bay and turned south. Dean had strategically placed himself next to Brad on the stern, with Brad at the helm, drinking their coffees together. The question was starting to feel like the scene in Oliver Twist, “Please, sir, may I have some more?”, when Dean asked again, “Can we raise the sails, just to get out of the bay?” Brad was silent while he checked the conditions; a mild ten knot wind and calm seas; which were perfect. Realizing that he had finally run out of excuses, he reluctantly assented. “Sure, I guess we could all use the practice”. It seemed safe enough…..especially since Brad thought so. Of course, we did not know what he had done to the stay sail sheet.
As for the operational part, I need to explain what ‘captive winches’ are. This means that Eclipse’s winches are hidden under cowling on the deck, or in lockers under the deck; and, like the lines; are not visible on, nor cluttering up, the deck surface. Unlike sailboats with traditional winches and rigging, this gives the deck a beautiful uncluttered surface that enables one to run around in their bare feet with tripping on or stubbing ones toes on lines, cleats and miscellaneous other paraphernalia. The sails automatically furled or unfurled using joysticks at the helm that utilize a powerful hydraulic system, (3000psi; no, that is not a typo) to command the speed and direction of the furler and winches. When the main sail is fully up and engaged, at fifteen knots of wind, two thousand pounds of pressure are being exerted on it; a powerful system is needed to deal with that much weight and stress. The captive winch system is not used on many boats; with the expensive technology reserved mostly for mega yachts, (over 150 feet); so few captains, especially on a boat the size of Eclipse, are experts on using them. Brad was no exception.
The main went up, getting stuck here and there, (we did not know as yet as to why) on the one hundred and thirty feet plus journey up the mast; soon after, the genoa easily unfurled. Other than the janky main, we had no problems. Eclipse heeled gently in the light breeze and Brad, being extra cautious, instead of shutting it off put the engine in neutral………but at last, we were sailing. He kept complaining about his inability to measure the feather on the prop, because if the shaft kept turning, wear on the bearings and transmission were among his a concerns. But….everything looked good, felt good and sounded good. I laughed, giddy that we were finally sailing our sail boat. Dean and I were standing on the bow, listening to the sound of water lapping against the hull in the early morning seas, a soft breeze messing up our hair and carrying the soft scent of salt, sand and dry brush; a delight to our senses and a balm to our spirits. There is nothing like sailing.
Still in our early morning attire, we decided to quickly head down to our cabin to get washed up and dressed for the warmth of the day, thrilled that we were sailing at last. Down below, the sounds of Eclipses’ systems were becoming more and more intimate. The hums and purrs of the systems on any boat become a love song to those who love and operate them. For us, it seemed that Eclipse was serenading us with songs of her pleasure at being at sea. I intuited for a moment that in our excitement we were experiencing the unfamiliar pangs of - could it be? - optimism. We listened to the still unfamiliar sound of the hydraulic system being engaged in adjusting the sails; loud, and a bit jarring, but we would have to get used to it as one of the many pleasurable sounds of sailing our beautiful Eclipse.
A bit relaxed and unaccustomed to this feeling of confidence, I thought to myself, “see Michelle, everything is going to be just fine. All that angst for nothing”. I had just finished changing my clothes as Dean brushed his teeth, when out of nowhere………..
“BANG!!!!!!!!!!”
- a sharp, earsplitting crack, like a pistol shot - hit our ears with an explosion that left them ringing. An impact directly above us vibrated through the entire hull of the boat, while a shock that caught us both completely off guard probably stole two years of our lives. I’ll never forget it - adrenaline hit me so hard, that for a split second, I felt like I had stuck my finger in an electric socket, the sharp jolt leaving my body vibrating and my heart racing. The reverberations could be heard echoing loudly around the quiet bay.
We looked at each other for a split second, then immediately bolted for the deck.
We had no idea what to expect, and what we found when we opened the salon door was not a happy scene - but thank God, there was no blood, or bodies.
We looked directly at the helm, where; with a sheepishly grim look on his face; stood Brad. Beside him stood Lloyd, looking a lot less grim and a lot more angry, his red face tight, displaying a “I told you so” and obviously forced semi-smile. Both had frozen their features in an attempt to look calm. The words immediately burst from my lips…..
“what the hell just happened??!!!!!”
From Lloyd - “Well…………..…..your boat is really powerful”. He turned to look at Brad.
From Brad - silence.
There was a perceptible beat or two before Brad finally spoke, as non-emotionally as humanly possible. “I was not happy with the sweep of the main so I asked Lloyd to tighten the back stay. I may have tightened it a little too much: the line snapped”.
Then Lloyd, in his usual manner, immediately burst out, turning back to us and snapping indignantly - “I told him it didn’t need any more tightening. I told him it was enough”.
While they were speaking; not that they cared as they jockeyed to play “cover my ass”; all that ran through my head, (and probably making its way out of my mouth far too rapidly, as usual) was, “well you should both thank GOD that line didn’t HIT anyone. It would have cut them in half!” As soon as I said those words, I could immediately see in their faces that they had just grasped two very important things; A) that despite their trying to make light of it, I fully understood what had happened and the danger it represented; and B) I wasn’t fooled by their nonchalant attitude, and I fully understood the hazards the power of our sailboat could unleash. The amount of force needed to accomplish a split line was tremendous, and the force of that break’s kickback, potentially lethal. Their attitude aside, they both knew they had been extremely careless; but as the captain, the brunt of the blame and the responsibility for any injuries or damage lay with Brad. Either way, at least ONE of them should have stopped it from happening. My furious stare penetrated straight through them both. I was angry. Their carelessness was inexcusable, but even worse was the shifting of blame; a character flaw that I find completely unacceptable and especially for these two seasoned, adult ‘professionals’. My comment and expression were met with two grown men staring at and shuffling their feet like guilty eighth graders in the principal’s office. I got silence and the tops of their heads. Dean, bringing levity to the standoff, as is his job being married to me, quietly asked, “is there any damage?” Brad quickly replied, “Only to the sheet. We can replace it in Cabo”.
Dean is, was and always will be the more forgiving and less “expressive” person in our duo. Without any sign of emotion or upset, he calmly replied, “great. We will do that then”. It isn’t until we are alone that I witness and try to help him bear the emotional cost of his firm control of himself in the face of these kinds of incidents. He simply cannot express his anger or frustration to anyone’s face; not out of cowardice, but out of kindness. He always chooses to give people the benefit of the doubt, believing the possibility that there is no intentional malice, only honest mistakes. I have a much higher level of cynicism and a firm belief in the tendency of people to act only in their own self-interest. That may not be what some consider malice, but to me, when they are getting paid and represent themselves deceitfully as accomplished and experienced, it is. However, in some ways, my willingness to speak my mind makes it easier for me to get over my frustration or anger more quickly; and I do. (It is usually those on the receiving end who struggle longer. Truth bombs are still….bombs.) Dean’s silent reserve sometimes comes at great cost to his emotional well being. It is a distinctly strong masculine characteristic and discipline; few women I know can manage it. I think this is true of many good men and one of the under acknowledged disciplines they exercise for others, especially wives. But there are times when he is just too accepting of being taken advantage of and unwilling to speak, and those are the times I have to step in and put a stop to it. We balance each other almost perfectly. I love that joke about the definition of stress: not beating the crap out of someone who desperately needs it; and although this particular incident was mild in it’s severity, and no one got a beating, it was just a taste of what we were going to face in the coming months as well as a sober reminder that people get seriously injured and even die at sea - all the time.
Yes, God was at work. On us. Especially me. Our education about people was going to be life altering - for both of us.
Neither Lloyd nor Brad said another word; to me. Dean stayed on deck to discuss the repair, while I went below, fuming.
In our cabin, I assumed the position - face down on the bed, tears rolling down, praying. I was already developing PTSD from the continuous litany of “problems”. We did not know enough to discern whether the “problem” was Eclipse, or our lack of knowledge about her. How had Greg Poche, or Jono, owned, sailed and loved her for twenty two years if she had this many “issues”? Was it her……or us? Or the crew? I was not enjoying the feeling of low level anxiety every minute of every waking and even sleeping hour, as if I was just waiting for impending disaster. Why did God want us on this journey; and did it have to be so difficult? With all the money being spent on ‘professional’, seasoned crew, why were they still so incompetent? Our two captains had decades of experience between them - why could they not figure things out? Why can’t we just relax and enjoy the trip? It would not be the last time this scenario played out. If not for my being harnessed by the Holy Spirit, coupled with Dean’s clear-headedness in thwarting my tendencies to speak brutally plainly and harshly about what I saw happening, someone would have been severely verbally assaulted while on board our vessel. Thank God I had a consistent loud voice in my heart and head with admonitions to keep the peace, supported by Dean’s calm. Wisdom demanded that I needed to maintain a positive atmosphere in such a small space, as did we all.
In our cabin, lying on our bed, being the bean counter that I am, I was considering several related things: our bill for the latest ‘mistake’, the rigging report from the survey, and the attitude of the crew.
While we had been in Newport and the crew were supposedly working “eleven hours a day” getting the boat ready for her trip, they had been supplied with a boat credit card and a rented brand new Honda family van to pick up parts, supplies and various other necessary items. They had used that card very liberally; regular trips to bars and restaurants showed up daily, as well as supermarket trips. Dean was in charge of watching the expenditures and receipts so I butted out and stayed quiet, but what I did see left me very unhappy. I was beginning to get the impression that we were their personal “piggy bank” for fun after ‘work’. Not one of them was spending a dime of their own money. None of them would cook a meal, even though the galley on Eclipse was fully functional, and I could not understand why WE were buying their drinks and expensive meals at water front restaurants in Newport Beach. One of the many “perks” of the job? My heart said no. It just felt wrong. I felt we were being used. My gut was telling me a truth that at the time I did not want to believe.
But Dean said nothing.
I contemplated the rigging report. In it, the surveyor noted that the sheets, (lines) on Eclipse’s sails were incorrect sizes, (widths). Consequently, his hypothesis was that the design for feeding them correctly to the various winches was not working properly. Lines were coming off their feeders and getting badly damaged. It was an expensive and reoccurring problem. The surveyor, who just happened to own a sailboat and rigging supply company, recommended that we replace all of them with properly sized Dynema lines. We had an estimate from him of $20,000 for new Dynema sheets from England with a six week time frame to receive them. The rigger went on to explain that because we had captive winches, the sheets needed to have a special covering glued to the Dynema to avoid bunching up. We accepted his explanation and recommendations with no resistance or questions as we literally had no experience or knowledge with which to challenge them. In the dark recesses of my warped Pachinko machine of a brain, the familiar “Ka CHING” could be heard.
Thinking it was the right thing to do, we ordered the lines and spent the money - only to learn over time that his hypothesis, as well as the description of the Dynema lines, were both in error. There were bigger problems than the line sizes that he missed, and that took us over a year to discover, understand and correct. However, we also learned from buying those same lines in Italy that he had profited handsomely from his ‘recommendation’. The actual problem continued to destroy lines, including our “special order for captive winches” Dynema lines - a consequence that made me feel physically ill as I surveyed the damage and the cost.
And let me make this abundantly clear: at no time, ever, was Eclipse the problem. The level of incompetency of the crew; or at least the level to which no one understood, wanted to understand, or wanted to actually work to understand; how Eclipse was properly operated was becoming incrementally clear, and we were then only at the tip of what turned out to be a pretty massive iceberg. That is not to say the crew was bad - in retrospect the delivery crew was actually pretty great - but we had no clue and little warning that we were all gearing up for the learning curve of our lives. Eclipse is custom built with incredibly brilliant and uniquely designed engineering; her systems are not plug and play and certainly not run of the mill. In fact, thankfully, she is somewhat idiot proof, with redundancies and protective systems designed for every vital function. Unfortunately, there are very few Alloy yachts in existence, so few people have had the opportunity to really understand their engineering, with the added complication that each subsequent boat’s design changed over time. There had been many changes to Eclipse’s original systems design, but the documentation of those changes was not on board. Even those who today run Alloy Yacht Sailboats are often in over their heads, as we found out on our travels. God certainly does have a sense of humor, and I kinda wish we would not have been at the brunt of it. But I am not God, and I trusted He had good reasons for everything we were going through. We were not going to be Job on this point.
So, yet another issue, this time to be repaired in San Jose. A few sheets - no big deal. Only a few thousand dollars. It felt like we were going from one port in a storm to another, fixing one ‘problem’ just to find another one, and to finance another ‘lesson’ for the crew. I was assuaged that the crew was learning about the boat, but not so much about the cost to us; both emotionally and financially; for their education. The good thing was that this would not affect our ability to get to Florida, just to sail temporarily. The line could be easily replaced, but the thought kept running through my head - what if that line had hit someone?? Images of missing hands, limbs, half-severed bodies and decapitations ran through my mind, making me shudder. Thank you God, thank you - nothing happened this time. I considered that despite Brad being a well seasoned and experienced captain, that was still a possibly lethal mistake. The sea is totally unforgiving and we certainly didn’t need carelessness to assist. If stupid things like this kept happening, even with highly experienced crew, how long would our luck last?
But I had the assurance that it wasn’t fickle luck that held us fast - we had placed ourselves firmly in God’s hands. We both believed and had faith; and continual confirmation; that it was God’s favor pouring out - through our heartfelt prayers - and that it remained on and with us, the crew and the boat. We knew it was that favor that kept us from disaster.
And while we hoped the lesson that morning would be heeded and learned by Brad……quietly, he had taken it a lot harder than we ever expected and more personally than we knew.
It is now clear; but not so much then; that Brad was slowly losing his confidence that he could sail Eclipse or safely get her to Florida; and that his trepidation was going to prove to be a major trial.
To Be Continued.