sailing – Page 5 – On the Horizon Line

on the horizon line travel blog panama canal transit in sailboat

Panama Canal (Take Two): Watch Us In Action Tomorrow!

After 9 days on this dock in Shelter Bay Marina, Llyr is finally ready to head to the Pacific. Our slated Panama Canal crossing is set for tomorrow, April 20th, at 3:45pm. Rob and I are the resident experts aboard after our crossing earlier this week, and are primed to avoid the monkey’s fist and keep lines tight during round two.

Want to watch us in the Canal? You can click here to see us via a live webcam in the 3 different Gatun Locks on Saturday between 3:45pm and 6:00pm. If you miss that, we’ll be in the Miraflores Lock between 11:00am and 1:00pm on Sunday. These are the local Panama times, and I believe we are in the same time zone as Chicago (honestly, though, keeping track of time zones has been a low priority for Rob and I this first month of traveling).

Just click the tabs on the website corresponding to those two lock names, and we’ll be in the lime green sailboat with 2 masts. We might be rafted up with other boats, or all on our own. Either way, we’ll definitely look small next to the giant cargo ships! Rob might moon the camera, but no promises.

After we get through the Canal, blog posts will be fewer. It doesn’t mean we aren’t writing a lot, and thinking about all of you — it just means internet gets spotty, and we have to focus on riding the wind and waves for the next month.

Rob’s favorite pre-Canal crossing project: welding the kayak to fix the giant rip in its bow. Hopefully we won’t need to fix any new holes after our Canal transit.

transit panama canal in yacht - sailboat blog - on the horizon line

Outdoor Adventures, Sailing

The Monkey’s Fist (in your face)

We did it! Our first Panama Canal transit was a success. And by success, I mean none of the scary things happened that most yacht owners worry about. Those scary things include:

Hitting one of the concrete walls in the 106-foot wide locks and damaging your sailboat as billions of gallons of incoming freshwater boil and roil around you, creating unpredictable eddies and turbulence.
Running into a 950-foot-long container ship steaming past you at 15 knots in a narrow channel.
Taking a bow wave on the beam or getting sucked into the wake of a passing freighter.
Tearing off a cleat or another important sailboat part while tied tightly to 2 other very expensive sailboats as they all motor along together in a giant, slow-moving, un-agile clump (making the perfect target for the speedy mega-ton container ships passing by).
Getting a monkey’s fist to the face.

Obviously, #5 is the most terrifying of the potential Canal dangers. It’s also the most likely to occur. Although none of the above events came to pass (knock on lots of wood) during our transit, all of them were a distinct possibility at certain points. With common sense, a pilot who can see really large ships, and basic laws of physics, most of these factors can be controlled.

But you can’t control the monkey’s fist.

This deadly ball of flying lead-loaded death is unassuming. It’s a miniscule object, compared to the other multi-ton objects that could cause disaster in the Panama Canal. But it could take you out. Or your solar panel. Definitely a window, and probably your eye.

What in the hell, you ask, is a monkey’s fist? As you’ve likely guessed, it’s not the hand of the mammal that swings from trees, but rather the name of a fancy knot. In the case of a Canal transit, it happens to be a fancy knot wrapped over pieces of lead, which is tossed at your boat from a nonchalant, cigarette-smoking Panamanian line-handler standing 50+ feet above your boat on the walls of the lock.

The monkey’s fist is attached to a long, thin, gnarled, algae-covered rope perfectly sized to give you a rope burn. The reasons the Panamanians throw them at your boat (besides the entertainment value associated with watching foreigners run and duck) is so that you can tie it to a longer, thicker, sturdier rope (called “lines” on a boat, remember) designed to keep your boat well away from the nasty boat-crunching concrete walls of the lock. The nonchalant line-handler pulls both the thin and thick ropes back up (eventually), and hooks it to a bollard (also known as a really big peg) on the top of the lock.

As the line handlers on Maunie, a lovely 38-foot Vancouver owned by a lovely British couple named Graham and Dianne, Rob and I were in charge of, first, avoiding the monkey’s fist, and, second, running quickly to grab it from where it thumped down. After tying on our dock line and securing the other end to the sailboat, we then spent the 10-15 minutes in each lock pulling in slack or letting out slack, depending on whether that lock was raising or lowering Maunie.

Not rocket science. But remarkably more difficult than one would think when you have 3 sailboats rafted-up together, complete with 3 different skippers, 12 different line handlers, 3 different Canal pilot guides (required to transit the Canal), and assorted children, pets and ferry-boat tourists all giving conflicting orders and advice. It’s kind of hilarious. A little bit stressful. And all around an interesting experience.

Luckily, Rob and I were thrilled to be aboard Maunie for our virgin Canal crossing, as Graham and Dianne are first-class sailors and very calm and patient people. We learned a lot from them, and are all set to help Llyr brave the freighters and concrete walls on Saturday. We’ll show those monkeys’ fists who’s boss again, too … right after we duck and cover, of course.

Outdoor Adventures, Traveling

A Typical Baja Beginning

We made it to Mark and Katie! And it only took an extra 3 hours more than planned, with only half the expected cost. In Mexico, that’s quite a success story.

After leaving Missoula at 5:30 AM in the dark, chilly mountain air, we landed in SanJose del Cabo Airport at the southern tip of the Baja Californ
ia peninsula at 3:45 PM. We’d hoped to take a bus directly from the airport at 4:30 PM, but …. well, it’s Mexico. Though we had boarding passes written up by the cashier, we were a tad late in handing over the pesos, so the driver left without us. “Siento,” he said, in an un-sorry voice. “Bus is full. They will call another driver.” And how long would that take, did he think? “Oh, 40 minutes. Maybe 2 hours. Hard to say.”

After much hemming and hawing in a mix of two languages, turns out the cashier REALLY wanted to go home. She said it would be “mas rapido” to take a taxi to the nearest tiny town and grab a different bus from there. Santa Anita didn’t have a lot going for it, except for the highway running through its center. After a confusing round of differing instructions from a variety of helpful (but not always right) people, we finally bought tickets for the 6:00 PM bus (which showed up at 7:00).

The coolest part of the delay: as we waited with ice cream sandwiches on the side of the highway for our bus, Rob spotted a humming bird fly into a scrubby tree on the highway median. He snuck up and saw it sitting on a nest … the first hummingbird we’ve ever seen on a nest! And beneath it? Two tiny eggs the size of Altoid mints.

Mark and Katie were planning to greet us at the Malecon in La Paz at 730 PM after our 3 hour bus ride. Luckily, we used our handy DeLorme InReach (more on this nifty tool later) to send them a message that we’d arrive at 10:00 PM instead. After a Pacifico and empanadas, we all snuggled down on Selkie for the night. And I did some dock yoga this morning, too.

Now we’re packing up to go explore some remote beaches for a bit. Well, Rob and I are already packed. The trick is fitting the 4 of us, our big bags, a golden retriever and an inflatable kayak in a tiny Subaru for a week of camping. Stay tuned for pictures of that tetris game. Hasta luego!

13 interviews video - on the horizon line blog

Family and Friends, Sailing

13 Interviews – A Pennsylvania Perspective on Sailing Away

Today is the first day of our adventure. As we enter a new country, it seems fitting to reflect a bit on where we’re going, as well as reflect on what others think about our upcoming sailing voyage.

When we went back to visit Philadelphia in February, Bri and I interviewed 13 members of my family to ask them a few key questions about our trip. Check out their insights and advice below.

[framed_video column=”full-width”]13 Interviews – A Pennsylvania Perspective on Sailing Away [/framed_video]

brianna randall eating a mango - on the horizon line sailing

Family and Friends, Reflections on Life

A List of 10 Favorites – Here and There.

What I’m most looking forward to when we get there (and by “there,” I mean latitudes south of Montana and places more salty than not).

Remembering my dreams again.
Mangos and avocados.
Watching the stars and sun move across the sky.
Counting birds and dolphins.
Bioluminescence.
Time to meditate.
Humidity.
New cuisines, new cultures, new friends.
Having time to really listen.
Dancing on the bow of the sailboat.

What I’ll miss most about being here (and by “here,” I mean our home in the beautiful Rocky Mountain town of MisSOULa, Montucky).

My sister. And my parents. Cassidy and I have never been apart longer than 6 months, and I imagine the hole left in my heart without her nearby will ache often.
Girlfriends.
Mountains, and the crystal-clear creeks that flow from them.
Our dog.
Family dinners, followed by hilarious music jam sessions.
Baths.
Our couch (it’s seriously awesome) and king-sized bed.
The lack of bugs and infectious diseases.
Biking.
Watching the kids we love grow up.

bri with backpack ready to sail away on the horizon line

Sailing, Traveling

Travel Preparations: What to Bring With You

Are you ready for Part 2 of the Travel Prep Mini-Series? We sure are! This entry is much more fun, since it means we’re getting closer to a final packing list and farther from those nagging logistical details of leaving our life behind. (In case you missed Part 1, click here to read “What You Should Leave Behind.”)

Did I mention that Rob had us do a “test pack” on Christmas Eve? Yup, that was 2 full months ago. And that’s how excited he is to get the backpack on his back and get out to explore the South Seas. The test pack weighed in at exactly 50 lbs, which means we should be just under the checked baggage limit (fingers crossed!). I just laid out everything on the floor again this weekend, trying to see how the hell it will all fit.

The goals of this post include: 1) share our preparation research with other wanna-be sailors/explorers/world travelers; 2) inspire you to cast off all bowlines and simplify some; 3) convince you (and us) that we can fit everything we need for 2 years in one giant backpack each. See below for our packing list.

abe in laundry basket - pets scared of packing parents as we get ready to sail - on the horizon line — Our dog, Abe, goes to his “safe place” in the laundry basket when he sees us pack. Wish he could come with us!

And — please — let us know what we’re forgetting! Although, as my grandma just told me on the phone, “I guess you won’t miss what you don’t bring, right?” Hope not.

The Packing List:

BAGS. One giant 115-liter waterproof backpack, and one small daypack each. A small purse/travel wallet for the items in #2. Several different dry sacks/ditty bags to organize the stuff in the giant 115-liter backpack.
WALLET & DOCS. Passport, credit cards, ATM cards, license, health insurance cards, scuba certification cards, cash. We also made electronic and paper copies of all of important travel docs to bring with us and leave with our parents.
ELECTRONICS. MacBook Air laptop, LaCie hard drive, iPhone (complete with Navionics charts and Bad Elf GPS plugin, and its own life jacket), camera, GoPro Hero 2, recording mic, mini-speaker, iTouch, plus a Joos solar charger to keep ’em all alive and waterproof/durable cases to keep ’em all dry. *Stay tuned for a Travel Prep post on our communication plan while at sea.
CLOTHES. 3-4 of each of these items: lightweight pants, shorts/skirts, long-sleeved shirts, tank-top or t-shirts, sarongs, underwear, visors/hats, bathing suits. Rubber rain gear and a lightweight windbreaker. Small, lightweight puffy jacket. For Bri: 1 dress and 1 long skirt. Shoes: Crocs, Vibram 5-Fingers, flip-flops.
SAFETY. Delorme In-Reach for emergency tracking and rescue (you’re welcome, moms!),
inflatable Coast Guard-certified life jackets with harness attachments, headlamps, a UV SteriPen to filter drinking water, mosquito net, dive + rigging knives, and a bomber medical kit. *Stay tuned for a Travel Prep post detailing our medical supplies and vaccinations.
TOILETRIES. Dr. Bronner’s liquid soap (doubles as shampoo), toothpaste, toothbrush, comb, hair bands, sunscreen, all-purpose lotion, bug repellent (Rob made natural bug goop), chapstick and towel.
FUN STUFF. Snorkel and mask, rash guard, fins, books and Kindle, jump rope, yoga mat, fly fishing rod and saltwater flies.
SLEEPING GEAR. Fleece sleeping bag liners, small travel pillow and silk liner for Bri, a sarong and folded-up-sweatshirt pillow for Rob.
NOVELTY ITEM. Bri: travel backpacking guitar. Rob: pole spear.

Click here to read more “Travel Prep” posts!

Llyr under sail - on the horizon line with rob and bri

Sailing

“Where, exactly, are you going?”

We leave one month from tomorrow. Whoa. As the departure date approaches, the main question we hear (aside from “are you getting excited?!”) is “where, exactly, are you guys going?” Here’s the answer:

On March 26th, we fly from Missoula, Montana to Cabo San Lucas in Baja California. We’re hoping to meet up with our friends, Katie and Mark, on their boat, Selkie, in La Paz. The goal is to spend a couple of weeks decompressing from work, packing, and leaving our way of life. We plan to leave Mexico refreshed and ready for a big adventure.

On April 10th, we fly from Cabo to Panama City, where we’ll make our way to Colon to meet Llyr in the Caribbean Sea. We’ve signed up to crew on this 53-foot steel ketch, and are excited to help Janis and Brooks, and their teenage boys, Connor, Rowan and Gavin sail her across the Pacific. We’ll have to wait in line for a week or two to squeeze Llyr between mega-tankers, cruise ships and other yachts for her trip through the Panama Canal. We’ll likely head through the Canal by the end of April. Once through the Canal, we’ll provision with food, water, diesel and other supplies while we wait for a good weather window to begin our “Pacific Puddlejump.”

By the beginning of May, we’ll start our 40-day journey across the Pacific Ocean, heading south over the equator and (hopefully) catching a smooth ride on southeast trade winds as we sail west. We should reach our first landfall in French Polynesia’s easternmost island chain, the Marquesas, by early June.

Rob and I may continue with Llyr to Tahiti, the capital of French Polynesia. Tahiti is kind of like the “transit station” for the South Pacific, where we’ll find lots and lots of sailboats from all over the world heading to different islands. We plan to find one to crew on to the next island stop. From here, plans get fuzzy (which we like).

Our goal is to hitchhike on sailboats from July through November. The sailing season in the South Pacific typically ends in November as the summer months mark the start of hurricane season in the southern hemisphere. Most folks head to Australia and New Zealand, but Rob and I are hoping to spend the summer in either the Soloman Islands, or north of the equator in Micronesia. Below is a map of our potential route, though it’s all up for grabs post-June.

For us, the beauty of this trip is our freedom — we aren’t sure where we’ll be in a few months, and we like it that way.

View On the Horizon Line – Adventure Route in a larger map

Sailing, Videos

Limitless Exploration

A fellow Montanan — and friend of our friends — Tyler Bradt is about to set sail across the Pacific on a similar voyage to our own. Only difference is that he has a boat already, while we’re crewing on other people’s boats. Oh, and also the fact that he has high-profile sponsors and partners 😉

Tyler is a famous whitewater kayaker and adventurer extraordinaire from Stevensville, Mont-ucky. Check out his recent interview on the National Geographic Adventure Blog, and the video below that explains his newest adventure: sailing the world over the next 5 years. Tyler’s answer to this question is almost exactly the same as ours would be:

Nat Geo. How did you pick your course? Are there places in particular that you are most eager to explore?

T.B. This is the hardest part for people to grasp. We don’t have a course! The idea of this expedition is to let it take its own course. By having predetermined destinations and exact ideas of what we are going to do only limits us and what our experiences will be. The idea is to allow this journey to find its own flow, its own route, and what we do and where we do it will be determined by decisions we make in the right moment and not before. This will help keep the boat and crew safe and allow our explorations to be limitless.

Hope to catch up with you in Tahiti or beyond, Tyler. It’d be a blast to sail on Wizard’s Eye and swap tales of Montana rivers while we cruise distant shores.

Sailing, Traveling

Travel Preparations: What You Should Leave Behind

Last week, I had coffee with my friend, Kim. She and her family are planning to take a year off to sail soon (go, Kim!), and I talked her ear off about how to prepare. Kim madly scribbled down notes as I rattled off websites, resources and advice about the logistics of leaving. After 30 minutes of so, I caught myself marveling at the sheer amount of stuff we’ve checked off lists in the last six months.

Remember that Little Red Bible? It’s a serious masterpiece now. We have pages full of cross-referenced lists, organized by month and category.

Then there’s all the sticky notes and half-crossed out to-do lists littering our offices and house. I’ve even started emailing myself reminders, since I think of details when the Little Red Bible is not close at hand.

Since we decided not to buy our own sailboat (yet), I’m surprised by all these details. I mean, how hard can it really be to fill up a backpack and go play on the ocean for a year or two?

Kinda complicated, it turns out. Sailing away takes some serious organization. I’m proud of how organized we’ve been, and how much we’ve taught ourselves about sailing, traveling and life-maintenance in preparation to head off.

Now we want to share our lessons in preparation here, in case you’re planning your own adventure (and we encourage you to do so!). This is the start of a little mini-series on how to cast off your bowlines and head into the sunset.

What You Should Leave Behind (and hopefully not worry about):

Taxes. Do ’em before you go.
Jury duty and voting. Tell the county elections office and courts that you’re leaving the country for a spell. They can forward ballots if you know where you’ll be (we sure don’t!).
Your address. Set up a forwarding address for U.S. mail and change all relevant billing/contact information.
Typical health insurance. Buy international travel insurance, including emergency flight evacuations — it’s actually cheaper than U.S. plans.
“Will and Testament.” Write one, get it notarized and file it with your county.
A home safe or bank safe deposit box filled with copies of passport, birth certificate, marriage license, house/car titles, bank account info, and wills. Give copies or safe access to a trusted friend or family member, too.
Your house and car(s). Lease it, sell it, and get it in tip-top shape to avoid disasters while you’re a world away (stay tuned for a future post on how to do this).
Financial complications. Cancel all but one credit card, and open a new checking account and credit card that don’t charge fees out the wazoo (like Schwab or Capitol One).
99% of your clothes: only bring what fits in a 2-cubic-foot sack. Yup: that’s all you get.
Furniture, gear, dishes, books, odds and ends. Give ’em to Goodwill, sell on Craigslist, Amazon or eBay, or have a white elephant party.
Subscriptions. No more newspapers and magazines, unless they get e-delivered to your Kindle or tablet.
Storage area. If you can’t get rid of everything, build a storage space (we put up a wall with a locking door to use half of our garage as storage) or rent one.
Pets. So sad they can’t come with us on our adventures! Luckily, our doggie Abe already has 2 sets of parents and gets to stay and chase turkeys and deer in Montana. Our chickens found an excellent retirement home, too. We’ll miss them all.

Next up in the Travel Prep Mini-Series: What to Bring With You. Give us a shout with questions — we’d love to help you get out and explore! (And, if you want detailed logistics info and a good laugh, we’ll lend you our Little Red Bible.)

Sailing

A Letter to Llyr – From Bri

The following is a letter I emailed to the owners of Llyr. In April, this family will embark on an ocean expedition to research bio-cultural diversity from their 53′ steel sailboat. Llyr responded to our post in Cruisers Forum, and we’ve been communicating about potentially crewing on their boat from Panama to the Marquesas — a 30+ day crossing of the Pacific Ocean.

Read Rob’s letter to Llyr here.

Dear Janis and Brooks,

Thanks so much for giving us this glimpse into your life, your goals, and your boat. It’s been a pleasure to read more about you and your family, and we certainly appreciate the time you’ve spent communicating with us. Since Rob’s done the majority of communication on our behalf, I thought I’d jump in with my background first.

I was born in Southern California, and lived there until I was 22. My family lived at the base of the San Gorgonio Wilderness, just west of the desert near Palm Springs. My sister and I were lucky enough to grow up exploring tall mountains, fascinating deserts, and the Pacific Ocean. Some of my first memories are sleeping in the quarter-berth of my Grandpa’s Catalina while it was docked in Dana Point. My dad took care of this boat after Grandpa died, and they took us for weekend sailing getaways until the family had to sell the boat when I was 10. We continued our “sailing lessons” with Dad by renting small boats a couple times each summer, and I went on to take sailing lessons while at college in San Diego. I took all the courses I could, mainly so I was “certified” to check out different sailboats on weekends to tool around Mission Bay. Hobie Cats were my favorite.

When I moved to Montana for grad school 10 years ago, I said a tearful goodbye to the Pacific and sailing…and then unexpectedly found a unique opportunity to sail even more in Montana! A friend asked me to caretake his boat and share docking costs on Flathead Lake, the largest freshwater lake west of the Mississippi. I’ve spent 6 seasons (May-Oct) exploring this 25×10 mile lake, gaining experience in safe anchoring off the many islands and in weathering rough mountain storms. This 1975 Paceship 26′ boat had no “amenities,” and I quickly learned the nuances of sail trim without a windex, anemometer, or GPS.

My favorite part about sailing on Flathead Lake is taking my friends out for the first time. We’ve probably introduced 30 people to their first sail over the years, and even inspired a few to take lessons and get their own boat! I love teaching others how to move through space with the power of wind alone, and watching them feel comfortable at the tiller after just a few hours. Rob was one of those I taught — and the quickest learner, with his background exploring water. We started dating during my third summer sailing, and truly fell in love on the boat. Since 2009, Rob and I would head up most Friday afternoons and cast off dock lines as soon as we could, spending 2-3 nights out on the lake, staring at Glacier National Park and the Mission Mountain Wilderness. His proficiency at fixing things on the boat (or anywhere, for that matter) and wanting to explore how things work on the boat mesh well with my contentment simply sailing her for hours.

I’ve wanted to cross the Pacific for as long as I can remember. Partly, this is because I distinctly remember”interviewing” my dad for a homework assignment in elementary school about the “event that most changed a parent’s life.” His was crossing from Hawaii to Santa Barbara when he delivered a boat (he worked in boatyards throughout So. Cal. in his early 20s). I can still recall exactly where I sat while he told me about pilot whales, storms, crystal-clear stars, and finding treasures while skin diving. I can hardly believe I might get the chance to have my own life-changing Pacific crossing in a few short months.

As for other sailing experience, my friend, Katie, and I chartered a bareboat out of the US BVIs in 2008. We sailed a Bavaria 38′ for 9 days, anchoring, mooring, and navigating between 6 islands. It was spirited weather, and we never took the reef out of the main. In 2007, I jumped aboard a 65′ Maxi racing boat in Airlie Beach, Australia, offering my crew and cooking services in return for a free 4-day sailing and snorkel trip around the Whitsunday Islands

I also crewed with a friend on his 30′ sailboat for 8 days and ~275 miles in Southeast Alaska in 2010. He asked for my help during the “Dixon Entrance”, which is one of the gnarliest crossings in the Inside Passage with no protection for the full force of Pacific waves and winds coming Northwest. It was fun. I learned a lot more about navigation on this Alaska voyage, since we had to rely on charts and GPS frequently due to dense fog. I also learned a lot more about how tides can impact navigation and velocity, as the huge tidal currents formed rips and whirlpools.

Lastly, Rob and I joined Katie and her husband, Mark, in Baja CA last November for a 2-week bareboat charter. We crammed 4 people in a 1970 22′ Catalina, along with enough food and water to explore deserted desert islands for 12 full days. We outfitted the boat ourselves with food for the 2 weeks, and were largely alone in the ocean, aside from a short stop in a tiny ~100-person village. Katie and Mark are now cruising in their own boat in Baj a, and we plan to start our trip with them on their 28′ Pearson-Triton in late March before crossing the Pacific.

As for conservation and communication…well, those two words sum up my professional interests and experience in a nutshell! Writing is one of my passions, and one of my skills. Conservation is a principal ethos by which I live my life. I’m a biology major, and took several marine biology courses in San Diego as well as on Vancouver Island where I studied for 6 months. I also taught marine biology at an Audubon Camp in Maine for a summer before moving to Montana. My master’s in Environmental Writing has served me well these past 8+ years as I raise money, lobby, and lead the outreach/ communications around freshwater conservation in western Montana. I taught myself how to build a website this fall, and have enjoyed learning more about the many opportunities to reach a broader audience with diverse types of media. I’m looking forward to writing and creating more during our “mid-life retirement.”

I’m great at scrubbing decks or dishes. I like oiling teak. I love cooking, and especially the challenge of cooking a great meal with limited ingredients. I got my scuba open water certification in Montana (brrrr!), and have dived in Florida, Cuba, and Mexico. I play guitar, sing, practice yoga and all types of dance, and — always, always — look for ways to learn more about the world around us.

I think your family, your boat, and your goals sound amazing. And, I think that Rob and I would fit in well, from what we understand so far. Thank you again for the chance to introduce ourselves. I look forward to talking more, and hopefully meeting in person, too.

Cheers,

Brianna