Monthly Archives

January 2017

in Lifestyle

Changing Lanes – “Dum vivimus vivamus”

January 31, 2017

Wow, I am 53 and I don’t wake up 5 days a week to an alarm clock, commute 45 minutes, work a long day, commute another 45 minutes, and arrive home late for dinner. This was my life for more than 25 years. In fact, I had not taken 2 consecutive weeks vacation during this entire period. The last time I had been without a job for an extended period was when I was 27 and took 10 months off to sail throughout the eastern Caribbean. Helen and I ended that trip “broke and pregnant” and quickly settled ashore in Yarmouth, Maine to jump start our careers and raise a family.

I don’t usually like to dwell on the fact that I am not working. Too many of my peers find themselves involuntarily out of work. I have been blessed to have worked for a wonderful, successful company for the last 13+ years developing and launching an innovative medical device. I agonized over the decision to leave this position for a long time. We reached the point in our family life when our youngest child had successfully transitioned to college in Colorado. A primary motivation for my career was to support a stable home life to raise our family. With this objective fulfilled, I sensed that we had an opportunity to make a change. I also spent way to much time thinking about big adventures and worrying that I would get too old to pursue these dreams if I did not get started (mid life crisis perhaps).

So I met with my boss, gave an extended notice (10+ months), and started the slow process of changing lanes. I left full time, white collar employment 7 months ago at the end of March. Between April and August, I kept busy renovating an old home that we bought as income property. I had been worried about being bored when I left my full time job and thought I needed a project to help transition. It was a busy summer but ultimately successful. When we left at the end of August on a shake down cruise, the house was basically complete and occupied by wonderful tenants for the winter.

Since August, the process of shifting gears has begun to accelerate. For starters, I am completely “off the clock”. We wake up each morning with the sunrise. No alarms, just following the cadence of the sun and life outside the portholes. We go to bed early except when we go ashore for a cold beer and entertainment. I only shave when I feel like it and when its warm I wear only board shorts and a tee shirt.

Some habits are hard to break. While working, I watched email around the clock. The last thing I did before bed and the first thing I did in the morning was look at my phone and scan email. My phone was always in my pocket. For many years this was an obligation. I had job responsibilities that spanned multiple shifts and time zones so there was always fresh news. Now my correspondence (email, text, satellite message, and Facebook) is mostly family and social. I still check for messages way too frequently but at least I have stopped carrying my phone. Baby steps…

During my working years, a part of my brain was always engaged in thoughts about work. It definitely was a major part of my life. Now my mind meanders through a range of thoughts and topics. Weather (past, present, and future) is one dominant topic followed closely by boat maintenance. Given that our objective for the next 7 months is to have a rich journey sailing and exploring the Bahamas and western Caribbean, weather and a ship shape boat are a major influence on success.

As I settle deeper into my new lifestyle, I hope to continue the process of “changing lanes”. I am looking forward to leveraging new skills and creativity in a range of possible activities. For now, my energies will be directed toward our current cruise. Who knows what other adventures are in the future. I am enjoying living more in the present instead of always planning for the future. There is a plaque in the galley of our boat that states “Dum vivimus vivamus”. I believe that the translation is something like “while we live, let us live”. Sounds like good advice for now.

in Tech Topics

Water Filtration/Purification Basics

January 26, 2017

Water water everywhere nor any drop to drink!  A bit of trivia, that line comes from a poem entitled The Rime of the Ancient Mariner by Samuel Taylor Coleridge published in 1798.  Pure water is essential for safe and trouble free cruising.  Our experience has been that water is generally available everywhere from a variety of sources.  Regardless of the source of the water in our boat tanks, water purification is a necessary practice.  Water can be contaminated with a variety of things that can give us an upset stomach or worse!  Let’s cover what might be in our water.

  • Sediment – this is simply dirt, very fine particles of dirt.
  • Chlorine – a blessing and a curse, chlorine or related chemicals called chloramines can come from municipal water systems where it is added as a disinfectant or self-induced as part of our purification practices.  I put bleach in my tanks when I get water from a questionable source like a river in Panama.  It is best to remove the chlorine before drinking.
  • Organic chemical contaminants – these can come from the source water contaminants like pesticides or from chemicals leaching out our tanks and water lines.
  • Heavy metals – lead and mercury are at the top of the list.  Lead can contaminate water from piping and tank materials.  Mercury is everywhere largely coming from environmental contaminants (things like burning batteries in incinerators).  Long term exposure to these contaminants is unhealthy; particularly for developing brains.
  • Microbes and other creepy crawly things – these are one of the biggest concerns for cruisers.  Nothing ruins a day like a good dose of Ecoli sometime in the prior 48 to 72 hours.  Ecoli, fecal coliform bacteria, and Cryptosporidium Oocysts are common in water that is found in countries outside the USA.

So, what is the best way to get rid of these contaminants from our water?  First of all, we don’t need to eliminate these things from all of our water.  From a practical perspective, only the water that we plan to drink directly from the tap needs to be purified.  The most practical solution is to have a dedicated tap in the galley for the purified water and then a good filter to purify the water just upstream of the tap.

If you were to Google “water filters” you will find a dizzying list of websites that offer an extensive range of filter options, most target the home consumers.  Trolling through a boat show, you will likely find the Seagull system on display.  This system has excellent performance and with a relatively small stainless steel filter housing is well designed for a boat.  The trade-off for the Seagull’s appealing size is cost.  The units are more expensive than standard filter housings.  The replacement cartridges for the Seagull system are also more expensive than other standard sized filters.

As an alternative to the Seagull system, it is possible to achieve similar performance with a standard 10″ filter housing and a multi-stage filter cartridge with a pore size <0.5 micron.  On our boat we have a system using two standard 10″ housings in series.  In the first housing between the tank and a dedicated faucet for the filtered water, we use a standard 5 micron granulated activated carbon (GAC) filter element.  This element eliminates excess chlorine, some organics and reduces particulates for the primary filter.  The primary filter is a Doulton Ultracarb ceramic filter element.  The Doulton Ultracarb filter has multiple stages. The first stage consists of Doulton Ultracarb ceramic which provides genuine sub micron filtration. The cartridge reduces fine particulate matter, bacteria, cysts and turbidity.  The pore size of this stage is <0.5 micron.  Integrated into this stage is an anti-bacterial matrix containing silver, making the element self-sterilizing and inhibiting bacterial growth in the filter.  Stage 2 is an inner core of activated carbon block that removes chlorine, taste, odor and organic compounds.  Having this allows the Doulton filter to be used as a single cartridge installation eliminating the need for the pre-filter.  Use of the prefilter, however, extends the life of the Doulton filter.  Stage 3 is ion exchange resin that reduces Lead and other heavy metals.

Doulton Filter Cartridge Construction

The Seagull company does not provide details of the construction of their filter cartridge. From a comparison of the performance data, it is likely similar to the Doulton Ultracarb in construction.

Both units have comparable performance.  What is likely to drive your final purchasing decision is the size of the 2 different units.   The system using standard size components is a lower cost alternative but is a larger unit to accommodate on your boat.  A cost comparison is provided below.

Either system will be a wise investment and an essential piece of equipment to keep the crew healthy.

 

 

in Alembic

Devil’s Backbone

January 20, 2017

Gus, Rosemary, and Annie, you can skip this one. You’re not old enough for this.

Another boat's view was the same as ours: close to the beach with breaking seas

Another boat’s view was the same as ours: close to the beach with breaking seas


Surfers can relate to the exhilaration of being between two lines of breakers. You look seaward and see the huge crashing waves, creating a jagged line somewhat parallel to the beach. Then you look toward the beach and see the foam take shape and dissipate repeatedly along the shore. You wait for the perfect wave to come your way, to catch, pop up, and ride. You are pumped with anticipation for the adrenaline rush this next wave will bring.

But this time, beneath us was not a trusty board. We were riding Alembic. Our home. Our everything.

We sailed East on this path very close to the beach

We sailed East on this path very close to the beach


We were sailing through the Devil’s Backbone, along the north coast of Eleuthera. We had just sailed all night to get here and we were tired. The wind was picking up from the northeast, and we were second guessing our plan to do this. Last year, we ducked around the west end of Eleuthera, into the peaceful Royal Harbor, skipping Harbor Island entirely. We could do that again. Or we could do what most first timers do: call for a pilot. Little Woody would come out in his boat, get on Alembic, and pilot us in through the “hazards”.

Instead, we were heading in. On our own. My biggest regret was that I didn’t take any pictures. I couldn’t. Bill was at the wheel, white knuckles holding tight. I was at the bow, clinging to the forestay as the boat plunged up and down in the seas. I wish I had the set up for a camera strapped to my forehead to take video while my hands were occupied with keeping me on the boat. I was pointing out the coral heads as Bill navigated through the surf. In order to release a hand to point, I had to wrap my leg around the stay to keep from getting tossed overboard.

Gorgeous turquoise water was strewn with coral heads that looked black from the surface. How could something so colorful below look so black from above? And how could these beautiful structures which we admired during our daily snorkel adventures be so potentially destructive to Alembic? One glancing blow could knock off our propellor, gouge our hull, or even knock us sideways to the sea. We focused on avoiding them.

Waves broke as the water got shallower, so Bill aimed for where there seemed to be a lull in the foam. Our charts showed a deep channel very close to shore. Very close. At times, we were forty feet from the beach to starboard (the right side of the boat) and thirty feet from large breaking seas to port (the left). This channel was by no means straight. Alembic looked like a drunk as she swung right then abruptly turned left to stay in the deepest water and dodge coral heads.

Bill and I couldn’t talk over the cacophony of the crashing seas. We had to trust each other and know that we would keep focus until we reached the end. I stared intensely straight down, maybe fifty feet ahead at all times, so I wasn’t sure where the end was. Bill had a better perspective, as he focused further ahead for the best path through.

If you love to live in the moment, you could probably enjoy this. There was no time to consider: could one of these waves knock Alembic over? what if Alembic ends up on the beach? what if her propeller gets knocked off and we have no engine to push us through? could I swim to shore if I had to? would the coral snag me on my surf ride in? Nope, no time for those thoughts. Just focus on the next coral head in our path.

The racket subsided. I remained transfixed on staring below. Finally I could hear Bill’s voice: “I think we are through!” I stood, stretched out my crimped back which was wound around the forestay, and breathed. We made it!

Motoring the last five miles south to Harbor Island was a chance to clear our heads, get our hearts to stop pounding, and count our blessings yet again. We didn’t bother to raise a sail because we were too exhausted. Dropping anchor was like a final sigh.

We followed this yellow line up from Harbor Island, close across the top of Eleuthra, and down to Spanish Wells

We followed this yellow line up from Harbor Island, close across the top of Eleuthra, and down to Spanish Wells


You’d think that after this crazy ordeal, we would stay at Dunmoretown a few days to revel in our accomplishment and take it easy. Nope. We stayed only a day, and headed back around again! This time, retracing our steps along the yellow line back to the northernmost point (the chart shows that blissful white area, signifying deep water) seemed doable as we survived this already. But then we had to deal with the hardest part of all, Salt Kettle Bay, Ridley Head, and Gun Point. All of these were wild with breakers, coral heads that came up twenty feet like spikes ready to tear off our propellor, and even a few barely visible rusty metal markers that were supposed to guide us, but actually endangered us further!

I wish I had taken photos of the crashing seas, almost knocking us over at times. Again, clearing Gun Point was the big relief. Now we just had to negotiate the strong current and shallow waters as we turned down the channel to Spanish Wells. Dropping anchor was once again like getting tucked in to bed after an exhausting day. But bed was not our plan. We quickly launched the dinghy and set off to explore this new place.

Sometimes I wish we reveled a bit longer on our accomplishments, our decisions, our relationship with each other and with Alembic. But we keep moving forward. We are creatures of action. Our reflections show up in our plans for the next time…And there is always more adventure in store.

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