Captain’s Log – Unnamed Gaff-Rigged Cutter (1969 Saran 17 made in Cannes)

The Downrigging, December 13-14, 2008

She has sat for twelve weeks since I set eyes upon her. Upon last visit, a few inches of water had entered the bilges and flooded the toolbox and cabin. I decided to bail this myself and let the September heat handle the rest, however it had only been a week since the bilges were dry and I found the few inches. What would happen for 12 weeks? I expected the bilges and cockpit to the brimming with water, and the hull to have smashed the trailer to the point that the rails were almost broken and the corners of which has punched dents into the hull. I could hardly sleep as I contemplated what mess would exist. Perhaps the trailer gave out entirely from the weight, and the boat fell off and damaged another’s boat? What if the force caused the boats all to topple over like dominos, costing ME hundreds of thousands of dollars in damage? It was a terrifying thought but all for naught.

The bilge was dry. The cockpit contained about two inches at most at the aftmost end. Evidence of about a foot of flooding existed in the cabin, just enough to rise up and barely seep under the cushions, causing them to be moist only on the bottom. The cabin had created a hotbox for mildew prior to the seasons changing. The damage was extensive, but thankfully only to ephemeral items. The lost gear to replace for next season includes:

1. 1 fixed blade knife with leather sheath (had been completely submerged in bilge) rusted beyond use (skipper belt knife remains in good condition)
2. 1 craftsman pocket-style knife, same as above (two such knives still in decent shape in first aid kit)
3. 3 sets of rain gear tops, and 1 set of rain gear bottoms, molded beyond a desire to salvage (also evidence of complete submersion). Ponchos remained unaffected.
4. 1 3’x5’ US flag for gaff, currently soaking for salvage
5. 1 small US flag for stern, (have a backup)

Aside from these items, the radio, steering gear, mainsheet and boomvang remained no different from how they were left. The port and starboard cockpit hatches appeared to have remained completely dry, which brought great joy as they contained expensive lines and my toolbox, which also contained my prized sailing book (which remained dry but has developed some “character”). Other damage for repair includes:

1. Towels and clothing were damp but should be usable after laundering.
2. A lantern that would turn on when shook despite the switch being off (turned out the battery compartment was flooded and the water would close the circuit). Thankfully the resin material did not rust and the lantern appears to be operational after a thorough cleaning.
3. Cushions had accrued a few mold and mildew stains, which can be treated and removed or covers replaced if necessary.
4. Mohagany floorboard has lost much of its polish from the submersion. This is not very bothersome to me because I am not captivated by shiny things; only the thrill of controlling natural forces and making them move my boat to the place I desire.
5. Some of the running rigging and coiled lines from the bilge were soaked, and this may have caused weak spots that could cause them to snap if fungi began to grow inside. Thankfully these types of lines are not prone to such a malady and should be usable upon inspection.
6. Some black dots grew on life preservers. These can be removed or disregarded (the skipper’s has stayed in his truck all season J)
7. Engine should be sent to a specialist or replaced (I’m sure the fluids inside have frozen a few times which undoubtedly has caused damage).

I decided not to remove the mast as I stepped it myself and was quite proud of the accomplishment back in August. But now my muscles have atrophied from law school and I probably do not have the strength to step that beast again. I do not like to ask for help outside of the family due to the risk of injury from such a task and the strength required. Instead I better secured the running rigging and removed the boom and gaff. The 25mph wind was howling as I stood there on the trailer, and I imagined that I was sailing in such a wind and what I would do. The topping lift escaped from where I had secured it and it flew away from me. It was swaying up in the air to probably an 80degree angle to the mast! I prayed that the pulley would not turn and retract the line, which would require bringing down the mast to fix. After a few minutes of careful waiting, it came back down close enough to where I could snatch it back and secure it again.

I thus decided not to rig a tarp over the cockpit, as this would cause an unnecessary kite effect in the wind, increasing strain and movement on the trailer. Plus snow would build up on it and cause undue weight on the stern, which would topple the trailer backwards. Hopefully instead the snow will build up equally on the hull, and as it melts it will seep into the bilges and escape just as the rainwater did for the last three months.

Overall, the boat is in good condition, especially for what it has been through this season under my preoccupied leadership. At heart however, I know that this is only a learning boat. Rigging three sails and launching from a trailer is a lot of work for each use, and one day I must have a sloop on a mooring or dock simply for time’s sake. However this boat is a most unique item for this country (there are only a handful left and none are identical to her) and I am proud to sail her in her in the autumn of her years. It requires leadership and dedication to make this forty year old boat continue to sail, and perhaps a test of these skills is a formidable part of the thrill I get from sailing.

This is a post I have wanted to write for a long time.


Thoughts on Buffett, Part 1

In the legacy of Leo Strauss's Thoughts on Machiavelli (which I still contend was hidden from me in the library by a certain professor in order to make me "draw my own conclusions on the text"), I will analyze one of my favorite singer-songwriters, Jimmy Buffett. I contend that philosophy is conveyed almost entirely to post modern society via music and song. Lyricized music is the way by which mass society either reinforces culture, or creates it. Even if music is only a subordinate to culture and philosophy, its role must be understood as significant. It is also facilitated in some way by every major world religion, but that is not the nature of this discussion.

It is further stipulated that people seldom read today, and if they do it is only in the same method by which music affects a person. Because books are ultimately chosen through a certain lens and always judged prior to reading as this is inherent in the selection process (except in rare cases of "self exploration"), the philosophical brilliance within books, if present, has a very small opportunity to filter through the normative lenses of most people.

All of that said, it is my contention that music is a much more effective genre for affecting people. It can change moods, and strike a person quite unexpectedly. Books hardly get read on accident, but stumbling across a song on the radio or television can reach a person in a more effective and efficient manner. That is all just to lead up to my main, though somewhat unsophisticated point: that Jimmy Buffett is one of the foremost philosophers of our age.

I am sad to say that I am speaking through my own culture and life experiences when I make this claim, and this bias is sadly noted. What else would a blog be for but to discuss oneself, right? I am a sailor who has enjoyed the ocean and loves to relax and forget about the world and ambition for a while. I have learned to find the perfect balance between working and indulgent wastes of time that serve exactly to rejuvenate and enable me to only work harder when turning the "ambition" switch back on. And this came in great part from my many long drives and flights spent listening to classic Jimmy Buffett, and, dare I say, philosophizing over the meaning of the lyrics. How could this be any different from poring over the complex language of the existentialists or the timeless yet relevant claims of the classics? A person could make the case that this "philosophy" is far from top-heavy. But when basic cultural assumptions corroborate between reader and listener, the ideas create certain meaning that can extend further than initially appears. For example, Plato probably made pretty good sense to a literate Athenian. For us, it takes just a few more steps of research and contextual/historical understanding to tease out the full meaning. That step is skipped when it comes to me and JB.

Now, let's go to the "text." I have come to understand that JB has recently been making country/western albums with popular stars in that genre. I have had limited exposure to this music but nonetheless found it to be unfulfilling when contrasting to the enjoyment I get from the classical Buffett. Again, it is all culture. And speaking of culture, I do not consider myself now, nor have ever considered myself to be a "parrot head." I cannot say with certainty what this term means, and my gut tells me that there could be a connotation of illegal drugs there. All I am saying is that the tunes have reached me up in my "ivory tower," and nothing else. I have never been to a concert, oddly enough.

We'll start with the classic "Changes in Latitudes, Changes in Attitudes"

I took off for a weekend last month

Just to try and recall the whole year

All of the faces and all of the places

Wonderin' where they all disappeared

I didn't ponder the question too long

I was hungry and went out for a bite

Ran into a chum with a bottle of rum

And we wound up drinkin all night

This is a fascinating verse regarding the condition of what so many aspire to be - the carefree, but perhaps not careless. What is it that really matters? Is there anything wrong with taking off for a weekend and drinking with a chum? Of course not. Breaking out of the social monotony and straightjacket into which many allow themselves to be restrained is a consistent theme of this music. It presses the listener to want to follow suit, which to me is the divergence with traditional published philosophy, ethics and other such theory. Now, the chorus:

It's these changes in latitudes, changes in attitudes

Nothing remains quite the same

With all of our running and all of our cunning

If we couldn't laugh we would all go insane

There is not much to say here, but the general theme of the song is the importance of being lighthearted. But on a heavier note, it is about realizing how life changes both as a person ages and as the various worlds a person has known as a traveler have changed when they are re-visited. There is also a latent punch to the throwdown fight to reach the top endemic in the workforce. While I have no problem with striving for excellence, I most certainly agree that laughing on the way to the bank is essential to sanity.

Reading departure signs in some big airport

Reminds me of the places I've been

Visions of good times that brought so much pleasure

Makes me want to go back again

If it suddenly ended tomorrow

I could somehow adjust to the fall

Good times and riches and son of a bitches

I've seen more than I can recall

This verse echoes of an ultimate satisfaction of a person with their life. To me, it was about finding a deeper level of happiness and contentment. If I suddenly lost my mental or physical capacities and could not do something that I love (such as sailing or law), could I look back and be happy? You bet I could. It took me a while to reach such a point, but after a person becomes inundated with the things they told themselves they always wanted, they realize that there is more to life than what was previously thought. When I realized this, I was able to slow down, and, ever so slowly, feel truly happy.

I think about Paris when I'm high on red wine

I wish I could jump on a plane

So many nights I just dream of the ocean

God I wish I was sailin' again

Oh, yesterday's over my shoulder

So I can't look back for too long

There's just too much to see waiting in front of me

And I know that I just can't go wrong

This leaves a reader with questions that a listener would probably never consider. Has the writer moved on from the old world that has irreversibly changed? Has the writer gone back to work? Has the spontaneity left? Never. While perhaps circumstances have coalesced and the writer cannot afford the time or resources to travel, there is the ultimate optimism that lies within. The beauty of this song is that it could be coming from the perspective of a consultant who hopelessly works 95 hours per week flying between Cleveland and Boise thrice within each of those weeks, or it could be an 85-year old on a fixed income picking up his grandson at the airport. The message: live life to the fullest. Now. Someday you may not have the option. You may have four kids' child support and alimony to pay, or you might just be in a coma. Live, dammit, live.

It is a fascinating time in the life of a person when they first begin to feel older than others. I do not mean more mature, which a gradual process that does not surprise a person (such as watching a puppy grow up each day around you). When a person first feels old it is like being hit in the head with a baseball. You realize that those younger than you have a significant cultural difference that is attributable to their age. You are no longer in that class of persons on the "cutting edge." The one that everyone looks to and wishes they could figure out. Now I am the outsider trying to figure them out, and they make ZERO sense. My only retort is "call me old fashioned."

The example to which I refer is that of instant text messaging. I sent my own for a few years, but eventually disabled the function because I was getting spammed and I preferred talking to people on the phone - things get clarified much more efficiently. But certain people younger than myself are addicted to texting. It has become an intersection of instant gratification and the impersonal communication that has come to define our age. These people cannot wait until they are outside of a class or a meeting to respond or check texts. When I was a senior in college, there were a lot of people with phones under the table, texting away uncontrollably.

I have seen people separated by only a wall communicate by text instead of just use the phone or walk next door to talk to the person. I could be making more out of this then it is, but I doubt it. This generation could be losing its incentives to be in the company others - the "Bowling Alone" thesis might just be manifesting itself. While people may be "closer" in the sense that they are constantly sharing information, they could actually grow much further apart.

The problem is not just an unprofessional and immature obsession. Studies are showing that it is also ruining the spelling skills of young people in school. For me, reading books reinforced the proper spelling of words in my head. But when young people today are constantly communicating dozens of times per day in this "social shorthand," they are actually failing their spelling tests because of the reinforcement coming from text messaging.

Call me old fashioned, but I will prefer to look into sombody's eyes than to read a screen. I prefer to TALK to people instead of let electronics do the talking for me. Of course there are times when e-mails and such are more appropriate, but to me there is no better way to socially interact than talking to someone, preferably in person. Save the text message. Have a cup of coffee and a conversation - do not let a fragmented string of gibberish do the talking for you. If you are in a place where you cannot use the phone, then you should probably not be sending a text message either. If you choose to send a text message over talking on the phone, then you might just be a victim of this fad-gone-awry.