So Long!

It's been quite a while since I've written anything on this site, and for those of you that still follow me on here, I apologize. These days I am working very hard on promoting and selling my book "No Fixed Address; Tales of a Reluctant Sailor", This takes up most of my time. I'm also posting on my website www.daisyatsea.com I was amazed when I checked in today, to see that so many people still regularly read my blog, thank you all for your loyalty. My husband and son who are on their way around the world with the Oyster World Rally are currently on route to Australia from Vanautu, expected to arrive in the next couple of days, for updates on their journey please check my website. Thank you all so much for reading my blog, and thank you for your comments. Cheers Heather

Tin Pan Alley!

Hello For those of you wondering what's happening in my crazy, crazy world, I'm posting all the Crazy Daisy news on my web site now -- www.daisyatsea.com. However, for my faithful blog followers I decided to post this: I'm currently chasing around once again like a headless chicken trying desperately to find another house, because once again I find myself having to move (sigh!, three times in three years, this is becoming a nightmare, I feel like a nomad. However, as I manage to usually find humor in all things, this came to mind yesterday as I drove out into unchartered (for me) territory to look at a possible house. bear in mind I did not know the area I was looking at, at all, had I known I probably wouldn't have had anything to write about today. I did make myself laugh as I was driving out to see yet another house, I mentally went through the directions I would give to anyone visiting me for the first (and probably last) time. “Once you leave the beautiful area of Avondale, head north east for about 10 minutes towards ‘Smellville’, drive over the train tracks and make a left at the adult entertainment store onto ‘Climax Lane’, take the third right past the jail ‘No Hope Street’, drive over the train tracks and follow this road until you see the shoes hanging over the power lines and make an immediate left turn ‘Dark Alley Road’, drive over the train tracks and past the three burnt down houses until you reach the sewerage plant where you will cross the train tracks and then turn immediately right onto 'Tin Pan Alley', my house is on the left between Joe’s Junk Yard and the boarded up house with all the bullet holes in the walls. Be careful pulling into my driveway as there's a small crater in the drive from a recent grenade!

Daisy Underway

Gatun Lake

Saturday 17th February We were all awake by 5am, one of our fun loving neighboring yachties used their loud haler to announce “Five am campers everyone up”. Our pilot for the day ‘Edwin’ was dropped off by the pilot boat before daylight, and by 6am our fleet was once again underway. The islands of rainforest surrounding the lake appeared like a vision through the early morning mist as the sun crept slowly over the horizon like a giant crimson orb. The lake was stunningly beautiful, and there was a lovely cooling wind blowing as all ten Oysters headed out together. Everyone was busy taking photographs, and Paul got a great one of ‘Mr. Frilly Knickers’ (explanation to follow) almost colliding head on with a tanker coming in the opposite direction. Fortunately all was well as his maneuvering skills aided in their missing the tanker and surviving to sail another day. I christened one of our fellow yachties “Mr. Frilly Knickers” after his fabulous costume worn at the pirate’s party, I don’t think I need to elaborate on that any further, but needless to say I won’t let him forget it… However, for privacy reasons I will keep the name of his boat secret. :o) The sail up the Gatun lake towards our next lock will be about three and a half hours. For my part, that’s not long enough, it could be ten hours, its so peaceful, calm water, and light cooling breezes. Although as I’m now writing this it’s almost 9:30 and the sun is already blisteringly hot. We have three more locks today, and then we will arrive in Panama. I’ve taken lots of photographs. PHOTOGRAPHS ON WEB SITE: www.daisyatsea.com

The Panama Canal

Saturday 16th February. The day has finally arrived where I will be transiting the canal, something I have wanted to do for a long time. The morning was quite frantic; a lot of chasing around, poor Edi was dealing with a hangover from the deepest darkest depths of Hell… However, he didn’t flinch from his assigned tasks, Bob and I were not giving any sympathy, and both he and Paul knew it, and set to work with a determined vigor. We were to be in the first group of Oyster’s scheduled to go through the canal. We would go through with 10 other boats; 9 of us would be rafted together in groups of 3, our group consisted of ‘Crazy Daisy’ port side, ‘Dreams Come True’, center, and ‘La Frigante’ on the starboard side. We all headed out of the marina one behind the other, it was quite a lovely sight 9 beautiful yachts all leaving together, then we all waited in ‘the flats’, an area off to the side of the entrance to the canal, where we waited for the pilot boat to bring us our official who would travel with us and instruct us on the procedure through the canal. Our official was a lovely, friendly young man called Edgar. Once aboard we headed towards the entrance to the canal. We all stopped short of the entrance where we could raft our boats together, it was not a terribly complicated procedure, but then we had to proceed as one boat, with all three captains driving and steering their boats as one, calling instructions to one another, while all the crew ran around grabbing lines, dropping fenders or photographing and filming the whole procedure, some of us just made cups of tea. We had one or two close calls, where the lines became too slack or too tight and our group of boats swung too hard one way or the other and we almost hit the huge concrete walls of the canal. Once through the first 3 locks we all untied our lines holding us together, separated and headed out into the beautiful Gatun lake, where we all anchored for the night. I made a smoked chicken & pineapple dish with sweet and sour sauce, and brown rice with black beans and baby pimentos for dinner. Shortly after dinner we all crashed, exhausted from our exciting day… PHOTOGRAPHS ON WEB SITE: www.daisyatsea.com

Quite a Lot of Nonsense.

Friday 15th February, It’s a fabulous party atmosphere here in Shelter Bay, the Oyster people are really helpful, and the other owners and crew are really friendly. We’re like a big happy (very busy) family. Fortunately for Ed there are lots of young people among the other boats, so thankfully he isn’t trapped with a group of ‘oldies’, he’s able to hang out with his peers, or should I say “rum swilling buddies”. Yesterday was very busy with all the last minute preparations for transiting the canal on Saturday. We had to get as much done as possible as we knew we wouldn’t have any opportunity to do any work today because we have the “Fort Lorenzo Pirate Party” this afternoon. This is where all the Oyster owners and crew get to dress up like pirates, in some very silly costumes, then board our assigned busses for the 20 minutes drive out to Fort Lorenzo, where Chef Chris and staff were waiting with a delicious three course meal and unlimited wine and beer. The fort was in a breathtakingly beautiful location, and both Oyster and Chef Chris and his staff did us proud with the marquee and refreshments. We all ate well and drank far too much, explored the fort and took some stunning photographs, it was a wonderful afternoon filled with much merriment and nonsense. For some… the merriment continued into the night and early morning hours back at the marina. Meanwhile Bob and I returned to Daisy and spent the night working, we still had so much to do to get her ready for the canal transit on Saturday… PHOTOGRAPHS ON WEB SITE: www.daisyatsea.com

Trip To Panama...

It’s 6am on Thursday 14th February, and as I sit here on deck enjoying the gentle breeze, in the absolute peace and tranquility of the marina, the horror that was yesterday melts away into the blue, blue yonder… Wednesday 13th February, it should have been Friday 13th! My day has not started well, and for once I can’t blame the airlines for the screw up; a screw up that could so easily have been avoided had I taken just a moment to check flight times on line 24 hours prior to flying. So, I arrive at the airport one hour and 45 minutes before my flight, “how strange” I thought “there’s no one in line at the check in desk”. I keyed my information into the monitor only to be told that I had no reservation, I tried again, careful to key in the correct confirmation number, again I was told there was no reservation in my name. I asked one of the airline representatives for help, he keyed in my information only to get the same reply, he then keyed in the flight information and told me that I was too late to get that flight, my confirmation said 7:40 am, but the flight had been changed to 6:20 and as I was checking bags there was no way I would make the flight. I had been so excited at the prospect of arriving in Panama at 1:30 in the afternoon, now it didn’t even look as though I would get there, I didn’t even have a flight! With much help from one of the airline-ticketing agents I was eventually found another flight, it was of course with a different airline, different terminal and much later that morning… I had 3 extremely heavy bags, that were as awkward as could be, weighing 49.999999 pounds each, I had managed to fill the bags with as much “stuff” as I possibly could. Now I was faced with heaving dragging them all the way to another terminal, well at least I had plenty of time. As I trudged the long open corridors of the airport, struggling under the weight of it all I noticed the weather outside, it was horrible, dark gray skies, fog and heavy rain… Oh lovely! Having finally reached my new check in desk, sweaty and exhausted I stood at the end of the long line waiting to check in (again). What a relief to finally offload two of my heavy bags. I made my way to one of the restaurants for coffee and breakfast. The coffee was truly disgusting, weak watery dishwater, UCK… The food wasn’t much better, and I got stiffed by the waitress … It was really starting to feel like Friday 13th… I was praying that my flight to San Jose, Costa Rica will be smooth and on time. Sadly the very full flight was 50 minutes late taking off, and I knew I had a tight connection in Costa Rica, Oh crap this wasn’t going to end well. How right I was, the line for immigration was longer than the airport, there must have been five thousand people in line, well, slight exaggeration there, but enough people that it took 90 minutes to reach the desk and miss my connection. I was sent from one desk to the next, one side of the airport to the other, once again dragging my huge heavy bags, no one spoke English, and I couldn’t help but wonder where I would end up. I’m not going to elaborate any further on the frustrations that ensued from my arrival until my eventual departure, but I was close to tears, drenched in sweat and thoroughly frustrated and exhausted, such are the joys of travel today, not helped by being in a third world country. My eventual arrival into Panama was greeted with half the population of South America at immigration, once again the lines snaked around the airport, so it took me another 90 minutes to reach the desk. Once I had cleared immigration, and that wasn’t easy as I had no return ticket, fortunately I had the foresight to carry a copy of the ships papers, and that saved the day. I was then fighting through the crowds of angry passengers attempting to find my bags among the chaos that was “baggage claim”. Outside the taxi cabs lined up and I found myself haggling prices for the two hour trip to Colon. They wanted $120, and I refused to pay more than $100, that refusal on my part created yet another delay in my long, long, day.

Stories From a Voyage, by Bob Morgan

(note from me: this is why I love my husband so much) Not Everybody Makes It Through The Night Not three little birds on my doorstep (that’s a different Bob M.) but Three little fish on my toe rail.The rising sun has already started to bake the vibrancy of life from the liquid iridescent of their scales. however it has been several hours since life left these tiny jewels of perfection, so miraculously crafted to complement their environment. But last night many of us found ourselves in an environment that was not natural for us and for these little guys no mater how enchanted and magical their fairy wings appear, once the waters of the breaking wave that helped launch their flight onto Daisy’s deck had sucked away, down the scuppers of the toe rail, so did their chances of life. Heart-breakingly no pixie dust was left over to help them breath the air into which the gift of their magical fairy wings allow them momentary access. No capability to stay, other than by the act of giving up the rest of their life in the environment for which they were created in exchange for one more moment in this. For these little adventurers this end was not the result of the ultimate romantic gesture but instead they got ensnared in a game being played by sea gods, who last night had sympathy for no one, as they amused themselves whiling away the night distractedly shuffling around game pieces of unimaginable power . Daisy and her “cower aboard” contingent also were shanghaied into action as part of last nights cruel game and nearly took on the lead role. We had left Rosario island in near perfect sailing conditions, so different from our arrival. A translucent blue sea with only the slightest of swell being caressed by a silky 20 knots of wind on the beam under a cloudless blue infinity. About 20 miles out, it obviously proved amusing to one of the players in the evenings games to take away what he allowed us to taste. Like the throwing of a switch, Daisy was transmuted from a graceful swan slicing through the blue at 8-9knots without a feather out of place and a heartbeat later turned into the comedy act of a blue footed booby trying to waddle and trip and stumble along the ground, in an environment for which it’s appendices we’re never intended. From no where, 4 ft waves on the starboard quarter and a pathetic, near undetectable 4-7 knots of breath dribbled over the starboard and then port quarter, causing Daisy to flap, sway and stumble down waves, ashamed and embarrassed at her condition. For nearly 3 hours and 6 nauseous miles we consoled her and encouraged and enticed her to regain her composure until our pantomime must have caught the eye of another player in the evenings games and who, on a whim saw amusement to pour on us 30 knots of wind going in the wrong direction. The last 3 hours had taken us much too far North trying to help Daisy compose herself over the previously windless rollers, so I thought “what the heck” and latched onto the runaway train heading much too far South. Still fully rigged we careered along, just pleased to be moving again and getting air into our lungs. In this marginally out of control euphorbia, all composure and pretext flapping and fluttering in public along with the leech of our overpowered rig, we heard the thud crash of what we thought was a flying fish hitting our canvas and tumbling to the deck. However as we looked down to focus on it. It ignored what is possible for a fish to do and took off into the air again! As we tried to track it, in and out of our bucking and gyrating rig, it still did not compute that a fish can not fly circles, weaving in and out between the penduluming spars and canvas. Then there was another crash and tumble, but this time we caught a glimpse of the ariel drunk who had careered into our sails for a second time. It was a bird. Clearly exhausted having been caught in the same meteorological joke as ourselves. 4 more times he launched, circled and tried to target a secure landing for a safe-haven on Daisy. Each attempt ended in failure, undermined by his own exhaustion and the weather driven gyrations of Daisy’s rig. Finally he gave up seeking a lofty refuge and when he collided with the corner of our Bimini he simply clung on. No longer having the energy or will power to avoid the possible threat that we might be, only 2 feet from him. The poor little guy was clearly exhausted, disorientated and a long way from home. He was a water bird but not a seabird, like the brown boobies we frequently see this far offshore. He was a type of Kingfisher or Kookoburou.The long spear of a beak and short stubby wings characteristic of a high speed diver. He also had an impressive crest that he displayed in an attempt to look threatening, as his last remaining defence, everything else spent. But no amount of bravado could disguise his helpless desperation. The only thing on the boat that looked in a worse state than the bird was Paul. Paul had been the butt of the earlier first move of the sea gods. 3 hours limpid rolling at the mercy of the waves with no wind for directional stability had rekindled the green lustre that he had so manfully stared down at the start of the voyage. But now as the plaything of the gods, in a one, two sucker punch they had built up his dietary confidence and then playfully, slowly turned him over and over until he was done on all sides.Then to finish him off, when he felt his most delicate and fragile, they bought him tickets on the downhill ragged-edge slalom of our 30 knot wind powered, wave surfing. Now that I look at him and then back to the desperate little bird, I realise That I should have been more aware of my crews condition before voluntarily selecting to step onboard the ride being offered as bait by the bored and manipulative players of maritime destinies. The little bird recovered his composure quicker than Paul and over next hour, several times flew to grasp onto some precarious but more lofty perch in Daisy’s mass of rigging and lines. However, he could never retain his acquired perch, a combination of him being much weaker than his intentions and the helterskelter gyrations of our headlong rush, still under full mainsail. We had reefed and reefed and then finally furled and stowed the headsail. Leaving out just the mainsail, as it was more challenging to furl it in the building 35 knot winds. As a consequence each brave new sauté by our stowaway ended with him cascading to the deck. By now each of us had developed a affinity with the little aeronaut and were willing him to find his safe haven before he expired, but shock horror! Edd suddenly shouted “he’s down, ditched in the water” and is now pointing to him swirling past us in the frothing bow wave of the boat as the light of the day was failing. “what can we do?” he voiced our collective helplessness. Anguished looks, even from the pallor Paul. Weighing up the risks of any manoeuvres, to a loaded rig in these power conditions. I said we can use it to practice our man overboard drill. Without a seconds hesitation Edd is on the stern, arm and finger outstretched pointing to a vortex in the foam of the pluming seas rapidly disappearing behind us shouting “I got him, I got him” and continuing to track him. Paul I instruct to fully bring in the main to a close hauled position and I start the engine to power the boat through the wind and 180 our 35 tons of careering fortress. Edd asks, without breaking his focus on the spinning limp compatriot in the foam, what will we do when we get along side him? I said we have a recovery net that attaches to one of the boat hooks stowed in the bosuns locker. We will scoop him out. Each of us is manning his station, we pounded through the eye of the wind and are making way back to the point that Edds outstretched arm still painted on the ocean, like a marine painting targets for the missile boys to zone in upon and swoop in with wings of death. But our avowed mission was the reverse, to swoop in and pluck him from what seemed a foregone fate. Without warning, Edd cries out again “he’s back in the air”. are you sure ? I ask in disbelief . He’s nearly certain, so we continue in the direction he had taken, each of us willing Edd to be right, but none of us really believing the crumpled pile of feathers had found the reserves to avoid the reaper. Then he was spotted right over us, trying another stucker like, screaming dive and last minute pull out, to come to a momentary ariel standstill, grasping for another piece of twisting, pulling, heaving rig. As before he tumbled deck ward but this time, 14inches above the deck, he caught and stuck to, the unused stay sail sheet. He hung there for a moment and in that moment, everyone hanging on a staysail sheet and everyone not hanging on a staysail sheet,, dug deep in there will power and held their breath. He was hanging on, he was going to make it. We all nearly cheered but did not want to scare him into flight again. We corrected our course and this time as we swung through the wind we furled in our main and set course with just 60% of the Yankee flying to give control in what was now becoming 40knots of serious weather. As we each did our watch through the night we all kept an eye on the new member of our team.As the night progressed he fluttered and grasped to another perch on a tighter, line even closer to the deck but in the shadow of the coach work partly out of the sucking cloying 40 knot Troll that was now living in shadows on the slippery downwind side of the boat. The sea gods continued to amuse themselves with our plight as we reach mid point furthest from land. One massaged the waves into 15 ft lumbering giants fed by the 40 knot winds from the North, while another player breathed life into the previously dead 10 ft rollers of the old eastern regime and arranged for them to collide at our exact location in the ocean. For Daisy this means she is surrounded by confused seas and breaking waves. Several times I corrected our course veering away from foaming seas boiling up to run down our decks by doing so encouraging them to slide off, without leaving behind any aftermath of just a glancing blow. But each time we ship water on the port side, I looked to see if our passenger has been able to hang on through the sluicing torrent of water. Later when things seemed to have quietened down, I was sat at the nav station at the foot of the companionway to write the log. Paul is not on watch, but instead comatose, draped over the end of a sofa in the salon. I have left Edd clipped in, in the cockpit. He is sharing the watch with me. I hear the crash and feel the shudder, then hear, feel and taste the cube of sea water cascading down the companionway stairs, then as Daisy lurches and rolls heavily I hear another solid mass of water lancing through open orifaces, then airborne as a block, then crashing and swirling and rolling over and down every surface in the galley. I am on my feet, I know we are not sinking, so clearly we have been pooped by one of the breaking giants and taken on huge quantities of sea, not only over the outer aft and side decks, but right up and over the center cockpit of our fortress where I had left my son not 3 minutes ago. Milliseconds stretch to eternity in heart stopping, breath robbing, adrenalin overdose as I spin and lurch for the companion way, calling Edds name and waiting for a response. He responds anxiously that his tether is trapped in the galley port, sucked there by the wall of water and he can’t get it free to close the hatch and prevent further inrush of water as Daisy rolls with the weight of her new cargo slopping from side to side in the cockpit. I don’t care about the water coming in, he is safe! Alls ok, so now let’s sort out the mess. The major immediate jobs consisted of lifting the Cabin sole to aid the sea water running away into the bilge, then sponging out the water from each of the work surface tops, where the finger rail around each surface has retained the falling water and turned each into their own mini swimming pool. Drying walls and all surfaces as everything had momentarily been under the solid wall of falling water. The thing that really pissed me off was the saucepan of Thai peanut sauce that I had leftover from dinner, and that I intended to put in the fridge and use as a dressing with wraps tomorrow,now had extra salt added,about 3pints,in solution, or however much up to the brim of the saucepan represented. Throughout this period of threat and response, slumbering Paul had bolted upright in response to the shudder, eyes transfixed at the wall of water falling into the living quarters of our sanctuary and then rolled over, snuggled down and returned to his real world of sleep and tranquility as the seawater slopped around his feet on the cabin sole. It was then that I remembered the other ward that I had under my protection when the wave hit. I rushed up on deck. Peered through the darkness on the port side deck and could just make out a bedraggled mass of feathers, he had hung on and was going to make it through the night. At about this point the Sea Gods must have been distracted by some other facett of their game and forgetfully left us facing off to the duel forces of the 40kt winds and the lumbering giants clashing from the North and East, but as pawns, so went the night. I stayed up all night, partnering Edd and then Paul of the green hue, as they did their watches. Checking our new recruit became part of the pattern and at about 03:00 opened a tin of sardines for Eddie to see if he could entice him to replace some of the energy his efforts had consumed. I wasn’t quite sure what the regulations were for aiding and abetting one indigenous wild creature to leave his home country and establish himself in a new country, but I knew that if he rode our sanctuary until he could see and smell the heavily forested coast of mainland San Blas, there were lots of fish full riverlets that would provide a new home for our stowaway. We could not encourage him to eat in the dark, but Ed and I also noted that the big waves were depositing more than normal flying fish on our decks and in the morning they may make the perfect repas for our fish eating friend. The day break was spectacular, the skies cleared to a holiday makers blue and the waves and wind had moderated to the normal 3 meters and 25-30kts that was comfortable under just the headsail. So we were all set for remaining hundred mile canter into the San Blas. Just before 07:30 I checked in on our kingfisher and noted the magnificents of his plumage in the warming sun, so went below to get my video camera to get some film offering him some flying fish to steel him for the rest of the voyage. Camera in hand I peered around the port combing to see, just empty deck and bird poop. So I am left with 3 corpses that I know did not make it though the night and no longer likely to fulfill their destiny of being part of the food chain for our kingfisher. I surmise the warmth and rest turned his mind to fish and he has flown off to do what he was so marvellously created to do. As I write this tale about the night he has not yet returned from his expedition, but we keep looking in the rigging and on the spars for his return. We helped him make it through the night. He can fly and he can fish, but he is no storm weathered crusty old seabird, who can soar and glide across miles of open ocean. Closest land is 100 miles away and we are the only vessel showing on 80 miles of radar. I write and I wait.

Moving...

After a couple of weeks relaxing in the San Blas Islands the Crazy Daisy crew (Bob, Ed & Paul) are on the move again. Here’s a paragraph from Bob’s email. We have had a good day, nice weather, a short but good (fast and smooth, blue sky, blue seas) sail from the Hollandes to Porvenir to get our Zarpe to go to Shelterbay. After we shopped in a Kuna village on an adjacent Island. (Paul is really blown away by the undeveloped way of life). After we came across to Chimmee cay where we snorkeled before preparing the boat for our sail to Grand Island tomorrow. Tonight they are anchored off Grande Isle and will leave in the morning for Portobello, then on to Shelter Bay on Saturday. I only have five days left here in Atlanta until I leave and I’m getting frantic, so much to do and the clock is ticking louder and louder in my ear. I know that both Paul and Edi have been writing their blogs, but have not as yet had a strong enough signal to post them. I’m sure if you check their sites either late Saturday, or Sunday they will have posted more of their adventures.

Crazy Daisy Update:

Friday night email from Bob……………. Hi Heather. We are in the little bar on Lemon Cays. Edward and Paul are about to try the internet. There are only 2 outlets. No wireless. Don't know whether the outlets will be fast enough to support skype. Look and see if Edd or Paul shows up on line. Paul has still not adjusted to how primative things are. He went into the shop today and thought it was empty. And now he's seen the only beach bar. Big enough for 2 people to stand at. So the internet is another shock, his computer does not even have a plug to fit this old generation outlet. How has your day been? We have been pretty relaxed. We are checked in. So now plan just to hang out for a few weeks o the San BlasLuv Bob

New Web Site

So my web site is up and running, its still under some construction, but the bones are there. Check it out, www.daisyatsea.com

Not Far Now...

Following a few days rest and relaxation, Daisy and her crazy crew left Isle Rosario yesterday morning on their way to the San Blas islands. My crazy crew will relax again in the San Blas for a couple of weeks before finishing the first leg of the circumnavigation and meeting me in Panama. The sail to the San Blas will be a "sail all day and sail all night" leg. This is never an easy sail the wind and current off the Columbian coast is never predictable and can be horribly choppy and rough, it was a passage I truly hated. Last time we were dodging masses of floating debris, whole trees that had washed off the

coast from the previous storms. Sailing at night there is really treacherous because you cant see the debris in the water. I will only be able to relax once I hear they have arrived safely. This is not a passage for the faint of heart.

The Truth will Out!

So, I'm realizing from reading my son's blogs, that Bob is very careful about how much accurate information he gives me regarding the little (and large) pho-pah's that occur onboard Daisy. I get a brief, sugar coated account from Bob, then the no holds barred, actual account of real events from Edi. At least I now know who to go to for real information.

Another Day, by Bob Morgan...

Hi Heather We are safely anchored in the Rosario Islands attached and below are todays ponderings. Another Day It’s another day, no not a refresher of the last day, but another day. Totally new, no recycled version of yesterday, a fresh beginning every 24 hours. The sea is flat, seemingly driven that way by the oppressive weight portending the heat that the day will bring, it is already smothering the shimmering vista of low cowering vegetation that have learned how to survive on the small ringlet of islands that enclose us. To us who bring our own survival with us and so oblivious of the challenges of life, we see beauty and tranquility in the early morning, still and graceful, over lush green islands basking on the line that separates a cloudless pale blue infinity of the upper world from the flawless blue piazza where we dropped anchor. But yesterday, that different day, we felt the breath of ………. Not death, but the knowledge that life is transcendary and we were walking a line of risk as we plunged and recoiled from the short sharp seas that boiled over the shoals and reefs around these islands when the winds swing to the north and whoop and gush between 30 and 40 knots. Out in the open sea such a day is exhilarating, knowing that our mobile fortress luxuriates in being able to demonstrate what she was created to do. Yesterday however we were not infinite distance from the hard stuff, we were walking a tightrope between rock and reef and long wending shoals that funnel you in to the jaws of the of the channel that gives access to the leeward side of the islands where we were seeking the refuge of an anchorage we had used on another day. To day, this new day, above the reef that coils and stretches in every direction around us we see and hear the rippling rain drops of shoals of small fry breaking cover as they leap to avoid the jaws of faster fatter cousins. Yesterday as we approached our refuge and this reef, The islands were our friends and gave us shelter from the wind but it was still too rough to pick out the reef from the helm position and we had already learned that the positioning of the hard stuff on the electronic chart plotter could not be trusted, when as we weaved our way though the shoals, we tried to line up beacons and hazard warning towers on shoaling reefs, only to discover that either they or we were misplaced by several hundred feet. More that a passing concern when the path to be followed is less than one of those hundred feet wide. So today we plan to swim and play on that reef ………but yesterday my mind was fresh with memories of our last visit here. When we watched another sail boat wrestle and then get caught and twisted on these reefs for nearly 2 hours, as it tried to enter into the sanctuary of our anchorage. On that day, a different day, the wind was the little 8-knot nephew from the East of the stranger from the North that challenged us to day. So armed with memories of how we went out and helped free that sailboat from the reef and totally discarding the positioning of the reef on our electronic panaceas of survival, Edward climbed onto the boom and called port – starboard while Paul manned the depth gauge calling 6ft – 5ft – 4ft – 6ft as I attempted to react to their instructions, holding a path at 1-2 knots while the stranger from the North tried to pull and trick me to one side or the other. To day the stranger from the North has left, and appears to have taken his nephew with him, so we are left in the temporary hole caused by their absence, bobbing aimlessly at anchor in a bay of apparent tranquility. So today we have slowly maypole danced 3 full revolutions around mummers anchor as I have sat here reflecting on time and place, bracing myself for the play that such day deserves. Luv Bob

Bob's thoughts...

Another rather poetic email from Bob in Cartegena, I think the atmosphere was having an effect on him… read on …………. > Good Morning Heather I am sat on deck, clear blue skies, looking over the > morning scenes of Catagena waking up. The unreal juxter positions of The > gleaming Miami Vice skyline one side of the bay and the Majestic Domes of > Spanish Colonial military might languishing over the old walled city at the > other end of the Bay. The subtlety of the vista is enhanced by the background > blend of its audio rhythms! Starting with the near silence of the early > morning haze that imperceptibly morphs into the murmuring heartbeat of a > sleeping giant, the hum of what can only be the pressurized gurgleling of 1.6 > million coffee makers turning into the ratatatats of distant diesels and the > fluid swooping cawing sea birds being replaced by the demented buzz of a > frantic water taxi appearing from nowhere skimming the surface and then > vanishing into the fabric of the audio seascape. All the while the audio > backdrop continues to blur yet partner the visual lunacy of this meeting of > eras in one city at the halfway house between The North and South America's or > 300 years ago between North and Southern European expansionism. The > occaisonal other era formality of The long practiced rythyms of a marching > band drift in and out of earshot behind the indecipherable hum of the rising > breaths of the Giant as the populace of Cartagena starts to power up its veins > of Narrow overcrowded streets and alleys. The soup of city sound is made all > the more homogeneous by the clarity and overpowering volume of dropped food in > the enclosure that pens in the towering megalosaurus and diplodocus eating > containers from ships that strayed too close. ................... > All very chilled and laid back here on Daisy this morning, we got up early to > dingy Graeme to shore to get his flight and then went to bed for more shut-eye > before relaxing under the bimini to soak up the start of the day. At 9:30am > Paul went down below because it was too hot for him on deck. Eddie is still in > Bed. Last night we went to the old city and had dinner in one of the outside > plazas.

Next Stop Cartagena

So here is a snipit from Bob's last email. I was questioning him why they were heading to the San Blas when Graeme had plane tickets from Panama (on Friday 18th). F.Y.I Both Porvenir and Rio Diablo have little airports, well actually "airport" is stretching it a bit, both islands have a garden shed that doubles as a check in office and customs next to a small airstrip, but its enough to get a small jet to Panama.///

>This photo taken of Edi in the San Blas Christmas 2011 …………………………………………... BOB'S EMAIL…….. Hi Heather, The reason for heading to the San Blas is that they are on the way to anywhere in Panama. Our idea was to see if we could get Graeme to Porvenir Or Rio Diablo to get a flight to Panama City, so we could stop and chill on the San Blas for a while before going to Shelterbay. However the weather on the Columbian Coast has not matched the Weather forecasts. The day has been clear and sunny but the winds and waves have not died down all day. The wind has been between 30 and 40kts all day and we saw a few 50s. The Waves have been behind us most of the time but have meant constant attention to avoid us either surfing too fast or being turn broadside to our sail settings. (The good news is that with our double headsail set up, we don't have to worry about gybing) Because the wind is not dropping, my current plan is not to go direct to the San Blas, but instead to go into Cartagena tonight and then Graeme will buy new plane tickets from there. We will then continue on to the San Blas at our own pace, either staying a few days at Cartahena and the Islands off Columbia or going straight to the San Blas based solely on the best conditions to do it. Of Course this plan may change on the Whim of the Weather! I will keep you informed. - Cartagena is currently in sight. I will email you when we get there. Luv Bob………... (I received an email following this one an hour later to say that they are safely anchored in the bay.)

Paul and Edi at sea… Doesn't it look tough! Daisy is currently sailing the Columbian coast. The difficult decision is whether to go directly to Colon in Panama, or to go to the San Blas? Um, let me think… My choice would be the San Blas, well that is as long as they have a fully stocked pantry and the beer fridge is full :o) I have to say I'm wondering where the beer is in this photo! More news to follow soon...

Waterlogged but still afloat!

Crazy Daisy arrived in the calm waters of Curacao yesterday, where they had decided to stop and have a good nights rest, that was after changing the rig. This apparently took a while, I can't elaborate as I wasn't (thankfully) there, however, it was, according to Captain Bob "quite an exhausting exercise", I can only imagine the fun had by everyone during the ordeal. Eventually,after much ado, the jobs were completed and off they all went for a quiet night… Up at the crack of dawn this morning ready for an early start it was discovered during the usual pre-sail inspections that the engine room and bilge's were flooded… "crap, crap, crap"… The delightful water-maker had burst yet another hose, I believe this is the third time this has happened since we have had Daisy. So the crew set about bailing out, drying out and repairing burst hose. They are now on their way again, heading for Columbia. Wishing you friendly water, good wind and safe sailing. God speed Next update from Columbia :o)

Update:

Crazy Daisy is almost at Aruba. She is the second boat in the fleet, others are taking their time enjoying sailing done the West Indies island chain, while Crazy Daisy is busting a gut to get to Panama to meet one of the crew's deadlines!!! I have to ask myself WHY we are ALWAYS chasing around like headless chickens to meet other people's deadlines… Oh well such is life… More news as I get it ;o)

Oscar… While we wait for news from Daisy...

A couple of years ago I wrote a blog about Oscar, a newborn raccoon that I rescued and raised, I wanted to post photographs of him when I wrote the blog, sadly the pictures were missing. Then today while going through all my old memory sticks I found them. So, its a bit late, but better late than never, and I have to write something while I wait for my boys at sea to get into contact again. They are already about one third of the way to Panama, looks good so far, although I'm only going by what I can see on the yellowbrick tracking system. Anyway, meanwhile here are the very long overdue photographs of my little Oscar...

Oscar loved Edi, and even though it looks like he is biting Ed's ear, he was actually very gentle and did nothing more than tickle Edi.

While Oscar was very tame, he was an exception, I found him abandoned in my garden and raised him from a newborn. Wild Raccoons can be very dangerous, and also carry rabies, so do not approach them or attempt to feed them when you come across them in the wild. They are wild animals, not pets. I rehabilitated Oscar back into the wild when he was fully grown.

Finally on route...

Today at 2:30 Daisy left St.Maarten, and is heading for Panama. It's a non-stop trip that should take about six days, this is of course depending upon the weather. The winds are currently blowing around 28 - 38 knots but gusting stronger. If you want to follow them use the yellowbrick tracking and you can see where they are. I'm not sure when I will hear from them next, probably not until they reach Panama.

Foul Winds and High Seas!

So, it turns out that having made the sixteen hour (horribly rough, huge seas and 50+ knot winds) sail from Antigua to St.Maarten, to get coffee, Opsss, I mean a new battery, it happened that there was nothing wrong with the original battery after all??? One has to question this, the Oyster team doing the safety inspection found one of the batteries (there are 6 in total) to be faulty, and as no replacement batteries were to be found available in Antigua the crew had to make the long very unpleasant trip (with Graeme throwing up the whole way, and the rest of the crew turning green) back to St. Maarten. Where the (so called bad) battery was removed; not an easy task, these batteries weigh about seventy pounds each. The battery then had to be transported across the choppy bay (winds still blowing close to hurricane force) to the shop where said battery had to be lifted out of Whoops-a-daisy, (our dinghy) by crane, and inspected, only to report there was nothing wrong with it… ARGHHHHH cuss, swear, throw many toys around… Before transporting the damn thing back to Daisy and placing back with the other batteries. However, something good comes out of everything, and at least Bob got his coffee fix… Daisy is now well stocked with the wonderful (Dutch) brew (according to my brother Paul), enough to transport her and the crew across to Panama. I just hope and pray that the winds die down for their trip, 40 - 50 knot winds are no fun and can cause terrible damage to a boat(and its crew). So far the winds in Simpson bay have broken two of Daisy's snubbers while she was anchored in the bay. In five years Bob and I have only ever had one snubber break and that was in 50 - 60 knot winds in Soapers Hole, Tortola, about four years ago. For my non-sailor readers: a snubber is a thick line/rope that takes the strain off the anchor chain, it's tied around a cleat on the boat and attached with a heavy metal clip to the anchor chain. It takes a truly massive force to break this, bearing in mind its designed to hold a 32 ton vessel. So, you can just imagine how strong the winds are in the bay there! My heart is in my mouth as I think of my boys (husband, son and brother) heading out for a 6 - 7 day leg to Panama in rough conditions. While I am so happy that I'm not on board, I still panic at the thought of what their trip will entail. Please say a prayer for the Crazy Daisy crew as they head out tomorrow morning. I will report as I hear from them… God Bless

St.Maarten

Crazy Daisy arrived safely in Simpson Bay St.Maarten at 4:30 this morning. As yet I am waiting for news, they are probably all trying to catch up on some much needed sleep. Well at least I'm sure Edi, Paul and Graeme are, Captain Bob rarely sleeps, so he has probably been up since 6am working on something, life for him rarely slows down. I'm proud to say he doesn't have a lazy bone in his body, but sometimes I wish he would slow down just a tad... I will report any news (good or bad) as I receive it. Keep watching :o)

Heading the wrong way...

So while all the Oysters are heading West towards Panama on the start of the world rally, Crazy Daisy is living true to her name and heading North to St.Maarten! For those of you using the yellowbrick tracking system and following the fleet's progress, you may be scratching your heads and wondering "whether Captain Bob is inebriated? As he's going in the oposite direction to all the other boats. Anyone who knows us will simply shrug and say "well it is the Morgan boat, we would have been surprised had she headed in the right direction with the rest of the fleet". And how right they are, we never do the expected. In this case it's simply that one of the bank of Daisy's batteries went down and as there are no replacement batteries in Antigua, the crew have to sail back to St.Maarten to have a new one fitted. I believe they are also picking up other parts and spares for Daisy while they are there. St.Maarten is always the best island in the Eastern Caribbean for boat parts and service, and their prices usually can't be beaten. This small diversion also gives my brother Paul a chance to see St.Maarten, as I don't believe he has ever been there. Fortunately this small hic-up in the route is not a problem as there are basically 6 weeks allowed for the fleet to reach Panama, commonly a 5 - 6 day leg, depending upon weather. So once the new battery is aboard, Daisy's crew will turn around and set sail for Panama to join the rest of the fleet. I hope this will be the last of the unplanned diversions, but I'm not holding my breath. Follow the fleet on: ....

http://www.oysteryachts.com/worldrally/tracker.aspx

My Boys, on their way :o)

Crazy Daisy yellow shirts, Crazy Fox shorts, and Red Oyster caps... What a splash of color in the ocean... Already being labeled "The Crazy Gang" by the other boats... Trust my boys to show their sense of humor. God Bless, Sail Safe, I love you all xxx

Start of Oyster World Rally

Here's the link for those of you interested in following the progress of the Oyster sailboats on their passage around the globe. The Oyster web site is documenting the whole voyage. http://www.oystermarine.com/worldrally/ Tomorrow, January 6th 2013 is the day my husband, son and brother set off on the journey of a lifetime. Do I wish I was going? Yes and No... I join Daisy in Panama on February 13th, where I will help the crew transit the canal, then make the sail across to the Galapagos. I will be writing a daily account of my adventures as they happen, providing the Internet is available. And don't forget to check Edi's blog account of the journey, www.failingsailing.blogspot.com Tomorrow is the day my husband has been working toward and planning for, for the last 3 years.