Tawodi Sailing Adventures

Yesterday the Captain received a letter from the management of Eichenlaub Boat Yard.  The letter, a sort of death announcement for the yard as we all know it.

Not that any were that surprised. Eichenlaub Boat Yard has been in hospice care for years now.  It’s a place of faltering docks, strange tenants and probably the last funky, community sustained yard/marina in San Diego if not in all of Southern California.  It didn’t have too much time left, not too much time in our burgeoning yacht driven, brokerage owned, over polished fiberglass society of incorporated marinas.

The yard is picteresque but not in a pretty, postcard way and it’s a land mark but without the Disneyfied cleanliness that big money feeds on. 

The writing’s been on the wall for a long time; the letter just gave a date to the end of it all:  June 30, 2008.

For all those boaters living with the corporatized, by-lawed, micromanaged marinas that represent the majority of marinas- you all won’t carry much sympathy for the tenants of the Eichenlaub Boat Yard-  What, they have to find a slip?  Pay twenty or more dollars a foot?  Pay god knows what to live aboard- if they can live aboard- Promise not to work on their boat, keep anything on their sliver of dock, drop anything in the water, laugh, walk loudly, ride a bike or show anything more than the utmost restraint in enjoying their waterborn vessel.

Yes they do and none of them want sympathy at least not as individuals.  What they want, what I want is grief and a little anger over a way of life being smothered by the bland sterility of gentrification.

Eichenlaub Boat Yard does not fit in a world of regulation, five dollar coffee and 200$ shoes.  If the yard were a person, a man, he’d be wearing mismatched socks, paint stained shorts, mumbling to himself while fiddling with a bit of hardware.  He’d be the sort of man one might want to just take a step away from.

The Eichenlaub world does not fit into the cookie cutter mold of sterile marinas.  It fits the needs of its small community, giving and taking without oversight from outside influence, maintaining order through neighborly vigilance and disseminating news through morning gossip over coffee and cigarettes.  It serves its people as they serve it.  They- the tenants, replace dockfloats, take care of the electricity, the water, clean the shower, keep a sharp eye on strangers.

As a community it has little room to fit between regulations, avarice and the demands of our consumer culture.  It, in short, doesn’t make money

I have had many tell me that change is good, that change should be embraced and sheparded forward.

Sure thing-except not all change is good.  Change motivated by greed carries the smell of a shallow grave.  But so it goes.

On June 30, 2008 all tenants of Eichenlaub Boat Yard must vacate the premises to allow for the construction of new docks.  None of the tenants can expect a slip to be available once construction is complete.  They are welcome to apply for the privelege but most likely all dock space will be taken by a brokerage.

 So it goes- the charm of odd people and strong community replaced by empty boats.  Definetly not all change is good.

What?  Tawodi; a sailboat, marconi rigged with many, many, many modifications.

 Who?

Stephen Mann

 and me

 Kathleen Torres.  He’s the rock star.  I’m the attendant fan.  He’s physically graceful.  I have a tendancy to ride my bicycle into street signs.  He’s naturally adept at sea.  I have to look at my hands to figure out port from starboard.  We are almost perfect together.

Ok it’s not my favorite question.  The whole why thing is more a question of why do it in eight months, why aren’t you stopping anywhere. 

By the way, we’re going round the world in our little boat in eight months and not really planning on stopping more than, maybe, six times.  More like four.   We’re going round the bottom.

Sometimes the question ‘Why?’ comes off more like ‘What are you trying to prove?’

Nothing.  Everything.  

The simple answer goes something like:  Because we can.  The complicated answer goes along the lines of :  Because we can and then is followed by strings of words that stretch out into infinity.

Why do you think we’re doing it?

No credit cards.  No car.  No television. 

I feel like a polar bear; my survival greatly imperiled, my hunting grounds shrinking daily. This is a strange position because I do not begrudge any their posessions, their choice of debt, their choice of convenience- that is what a car is- a choice of convenience. 

I do not overtly seek out the keepers of large vehicles in order to lecture them about the evils of their habits. 

They seek me out.  On my bicycle, they try to run me off the road- they yell, they threaten, they froth at the mouth.  No kidding- really.  For every kind driver waving me through an intersection their exists an equally unkind driver bent on scaring the living daylights out of me.

And then there’s television.

Half the conversations of my coworkers, my family, roll around the ins and outs of television- the weekly dramas and comedies that I have no connection with.  ”Did you see…. oh nevermind.”

And then there’s debt.

I have none.  I live precariously on what I have, on what I’ve saved.  It’s an almost untenable postion in our culture.  I almost don’t exist.

I begin to notice that we are replacing community with institutions and civic responsibility with ignorance.  I begin to see social grace slipping away under the veil of bluetooth ear-pieces and an ever present electronic interference.  I begin to watch children behave without restraint without respect- plugged in, unavailable for comment. I begin to see families broken under the weight of debt. 

I begin to notice there’s very little room to live in this country without being owned by this country.

I feel like a polar bear.

First: A tremendous, overflowing bag of gratitude to Guy for setting this site up for us and a consecrated promise to never use his login. Never. Never. Never.

Second: Welcome to our virtual home. We haven’t unpacked yet so there’s a bunch of decorating yet to be done. Be patient with us and be welcome.

Third: We love sailing, good company and good stories. You all can’t fit on the boat with us but you can feel at home here. Anybody with enough patience and humor to put up with us is welcome to visit, knock around, spit out opinions.

Fourth: We’re going around the bottom of the world in our little boat. We’re going around as fast as we can. Just the two of us and all of you.

We’ll be here, more or less, God willing and the creek don’t rise, until October of 2008.

So much to say and so many words and everything stutters in the beginning. Stephen and I have been slogging our way through sanding dust, extremely toxic paint, expensive hardware, moments of sniggling anxiety and lots of money to get ourselves and our boat ready for a big run around the world.

We’re shooting for slipping around the southern bit of the earth in eight months. A short span of time when compared to the time most cruisers take.

Why?

There’s the favorite question. Why? Well what can we say but “Whoa Nelly! Hold up there- Let’s go through the more interesting questions first.

Like how, when, where, what, who. Why?

If you must know we go to sea to see. That little quip is the Captain’s favorite and now I owe him a quarter for using it.