Wandering with Tedder and Tamara

First, it's important to preface the sail trip with the following: we were told we'd be treated quite well, that his passengers “don't go hungry”, and were given very good timelines for everything. Our new Swedish friends were promised more- that they had a private cabin (which is apparently the couch in the salon) and private bathroom (there was one bathroom, the door didn't shut). We were also told that Richard (our new Swedish friend) loved rum, which explains all the rum, wine, and beer that was brought onboard.

5/30

Today we finally left. We were supposed to leave 'at first light'. That meant waiting for our captain to row in, buy more beer, then finally leave about 11am. We weren't given breakfast.

Our pillows and bedding smell strongly of mold. I'm sure it's the humid atmosphere, but it is really bad. Richard complained about their bedding, and said the towels (covering the couch in the salon) are in really bad shape too.

We stopped about 4pm at a nicely sheltered harbor. It was miserably hot the entire day, and the entire evening, but at least we could hop off and swim. Steve fixed dinner- good, because we were pretty hungry.

5/31

Today we sailed to Porvenir, an island that has customs and immigration for Panama. Steve checked us out of Panama- it took about 2 hours (dinner and beer for Steve). In that time Richard and Amanda swam to shore to look around. We then went on to the San Blas. Amusingly, we met up with Josh, because we saw his KLR on a nearby sailboat. Kinda cool to see him again!

We also used the opportunity to buy some molas from the Kunas. They are nice people, and the molas are incredibly detailed- they are basically a handful of layers of cloth, sewn together, then cut out so the various colors show through on the main layer. We'll have to post some pictures. We aren't sure what we'll do with them- they would probably be incredibly beautiful in a quilt.

6/1

We went to shore today, had a cola, and wandered around the little island. The huts are so humble, and the people are friendly. Contrary to what we've always heard, it is totally okay to take pictures of the Kuna people- of course it is worth asking first, but they understand it doesn't take their soul or anything.

There was a monkey tied to a tree at the 'store' where we had our sodas. It seems mean to tie him up, but he would cause trouble on such a small island (probably less than a square mile). He was pretty mean- he'd go swinging on his rope whenever a dog came nearby. He was cute though, and didn't mind posing for pictures.

Richard and Amanda really wanted to leave today. I understand- in fact, we didn't care much about stopping in the San Blas. We enjoyed the visit, but completely agreed- we would have been happy if we left about noon. Initially Steve said we would leave in the afternoon, early enough to navigate out in the daylight (so he didn't have to worry as much about the reef). As the day went on, it became apparent we weren't leaving. Steve eventually said we would leave in the morning. Ugh- another miserably hot night aboard a tiny boat, with a captain who was incredibly drunk and loud.

6/2

Finally we left the San Blas, fairly late in the morning. We were all pretty grumpy, since Steve's snoring and drunken stumbling kept us all awake- though the heat and lack of wind would have done so anyhow.

Like previous days, not a lot of food. Steve fixes about one meal a day. It isn't anything special- Mac 'N Cheese with tuna, or something similar. We usually scrounge for cereal, or make a peanut butter sandwich, or eat some of the food that we brought- though Steve raided Richard's personal food supply without asking, which didn't make Richard very happy. Steve has a bottle of ketchup that is black from mold. Good times.

There's very little to do. It's too hot in the cabin, and too much sun on most of the deck. So we usually alternate between the cabin and sitting in the shade of the cockpit, though that means dealing with Steve and such. We'd watch movies and such on our laptop but Steve refuses to get the inverter out, so we have no power. At least I offloaded some radio shows onto my MP3 player, so I have a little bit to keep me occupied. It's worse for Tamara, because she is so motion sick that she can't read or anything.

6/3

In the night (last night), the boat stopped. It was pretty stormy- we had enough rain that the hatches on the hold needed to stay shut, which meant oppressive heat and humidity for us passengers. We waited a few hours, then Tamara and I went up to the cockpit. Our captain was passed out- sprawled on a bench in the cockpit, out to all the world. He had been crashing into things in the salon earlier in the evening while refilling his cup of rum.

When we went out and started the boat up, Steve mumbled some headings. I wouldn't have understood them except I already knew our approximate heading. So I tossed the boat into gear and started motoring towards our destination. We were probably about 180 miles out- and at 5 knots, it was going to take a LONG time to get there.

We stayed at the helm for almost 4 hours, then went in to wake up Richard for a shift. He came out and piloted for a while, until our captain woke up. We then went in and crashed- remember none of us have slept, or eaten much, for about 5 days by now.

During the day, we had a gut-check type of meeting with Richard and Amanda. We debated options- mutiny, radioing the Colombian Coast Guard, or what. Some of our party wanted to confront him and take fairly severe action. Finally we decided that we just couldn't trust the captain. We became much more involved with piloting and navigation. We learned how to use the chart plotter, radar, and everything else. We might not know how to actually SAIL, but there wasn't enough wind anyhow.

Captain Steve slept most of the day. That was fine with us- we used the few opportunities we had to ransack the boat for any more alcohol. He'd finished the rum and all the beer, so we threw the remaining wine overboard. I don't like to litter, but the leftover containers would have been quite obvious.

6/4

We took turns piloting until about 3am, then turned it over to the captain until 6am when we started crewing and monitoring him again. We could finally see land again by about 8am. We fed ourselves breakfast (sound familiar?), then sighted Cartagena about 9am. We knew the channel meant basically going behind Cartagena, so it would take a while- but our good captain slowed WAY down. We were only turning 2 knots at best, and he would slow down or run circles whenever he saw a ship coming towards us. The channel was quite wide, so the behavior was perplexing.

The situation was made worse because he hadn't been to Cartagena for 7 years, so he didn't know where the marina was. We finally got anchored near a marina by about noon. Pretty sad- the final two miles took about 3 hours to cover.

Captain Steve got a tow, so he didn't have to row his dinghy in. We sat on the ship, talking about our options and what we'd do if the passports were rejected or anything weird like that. We were ready to start flagging down passing dinghys when Steve finally showed up, two hours later. Why does it take 2 hours to row in and drop off five passports? We are sure that a lot of alcohol was involved- the actual rowing only took about 10 minutes, round-trip.

After he came back, he was very evasive with information. We finally talked him into taking us to shore to wait for our passports, and to talk to folks about getting the bike unloaded. Steve was basically unwilling to do much about the bike- he figured he'd take care of it by the next day. I honestly don't know why Steve suddenly turned hostile at this point. Our behavior hadn't changed significantly- in fact, we were somewhat on pins and needles. However, from this point forward, he became outwardly abusive and aggressive towards the four of us.

We sat in the restaurant with Steve for probably two hours. By 5pm we realized things were getting dire. We talked to the harbormaster- he was a nice guy- in some ways, he reminded me of a former boss (Eric W). He went over to Steve and smoothed things out a bit- he was very good at explaining that we'd like the bike off today, and why does Steve care what day?

While we were away, Steve badmouthed us to our Swedish passenger friends. They were annoyed and amused. He also complained to us that we had cereal and didn't even offer him any. The night before he was talking about his wonderful pancakes (like he did every night), and promised to make them for us (like he promised every night). We only ate because he didn't feed us! Why would we offer him some? He usually had wine or rum for breakfast!

Our timing couldn't have been better- Josh and his KLR arrived. His captain was a good guy, they actually docked his boat and had his bike unloaded in minutes. Since Josh is fluent in sailing and Spanish, we enlisted his help to organize the whole operation. It was apparent we'd need someone who knew what they were doing to help, since Steve was trying to sabotage the whole thing.

Eventually we (Tamara, Ted, Steve, Josh, Richard, and a couple of dockworkers) went out to the boat. That meant Tamara had to ask Steve to come out, and rode out in the dinghy with him. Tamara said that Steve didn't know why we were in a hurry to unload it, that he was sick (DTs from alcohol, we figure, since we pretty much forced him to run out of alcohol), he knew the bike was going to go into the water because the lancha was too small, and the bike would go in the water because we were in such a hurry.

As soon as we got aboard, I started grabbing the boat fenders to keep the lancha from marring Steve's boat- he cussed and told me to leave them. Oh well- his loss, not mine. We then untied the boat in about 10 minutes (Steve said that would take at least 90 minutes). He threw a rope at Josh, who used his incredible knot-typing skills to secure the bike. We then hoisted the bike up, then carefully set it down into the lancha.

During this, Tamara's job was to hold the rope and let it out as we lowered it into the bike. That was a really difficult thing to do, and she did a great job. We didn't trust Steve to not 'accidentally' let go or anything. As she was lowering it, Steve kept telling her to speed up, to let it drop faster, and things like that. Her speed was perfect- at the same time that Steve was saying that, the rest of us were telling her to go VERY SLOW. It was amusing that Steve was trying to speed things along, considering he was moving like a government employee on his parts of the process.

The bike was loaded, and the little lancha (about 10 feet, v-bottom) was really sitting low in the water. The two dockworkers went back in it, and four of us crowded into Steve's tiny dinghy. Josh rowed us in, which was quite nice.

We left Tamara on board the boat (alone). She grabbed all of our luggage. I thought Steve was going to stay behind, so Tamara was there as security. Steve ended up coming with us in the dinghy. No matter- it worked quite well to have Tamara packing and such.

Josh, Richard, and myself went down the beach, looking for the lancha. They knew of a shorter dock that we could unload the bike from. When we got there, Josh didn't like it. He conversed with the workers, and discovered there was a boat ramp a little further down the way. So we kept walking that way. Steve was trailing behind- probably interested in seeing our bike go into the water more than anything.

Josh had a great idea. We set the lancha parallel in the ramp, and pulled it up the ramp until it was only in about 6 inches of water. The bike was laying on its side, with the tires on the shallow side. We then pulled the tires out of the lancha a little and then Josh and I lifted the bike up- as if it had lowsided on dirt. The bike went upright very easily, and we just pushed it out of the water after that. Not bad!

Since the bike was on its side for so long, I didn't want to start it. It needs to sit overnight, so I'll let the oil drain out of the cylinders. I also didn't have the key. So I pushed it back to the docks- more than a quarter mile. Phew.

Richard went in the lancha to pick up Tamara and our luggage. They met us back on the dock not long after I got there. From there it was really easy- quickly pack the bike and put the luggage on, then lock everything up. The bike won't clear customs until tomorrow, so we just went to a hotel with Richard and Amanda.

While we were packing things up, Steve was nearby. He bitched towards us, making sure we knew the bike wasn't going anywhere until the following day anyhow, since it needed to clear customs. Of course, it was off his boat, which was the huge risk. We figure there was probably a 50% chance that it would be sabotaged by Steve if we left it on his boat overnight. Better yet, we are done with him.

The whole thing was incredibly high drama. Not only were we angry, worried, and worked up, but Richard and a lot of other people were too. Because of that, we didn't get any pictures of it. I wish we had been able to- the bike, coming off the sailboat, was very photogenic and it would have been easy to see how precarious the whole thing was. We just didn't have enough people to risk it- the thing was high-risk enough without having a camera or two involved.