October R&R

Once every four months I'm allowed to leave Iraq for a couple of weeks. I left camp Liberty on the morning of October 2nd and arrived in San Diego 48 hours later, feeling like a zombie. I was soon to be a very wet zombie.

My good friend Jean-Luc, who lives an hour north of San Diego, met me at the airport with a U-Haul truck loaded with bits and pieces I had ordered for the boat and a six foot dinghy I'd purchased on Ebay. After lunch and a couple of stops for groceries and supplies we carried the dinghy and several assorted bags and boxes to the beach. I wisely decided to forego the small outboard motor that had come with the dinghy and instead used a new set of oars for propulsion. Unwisely I failed to pin the oarlocks into their respective mounts... but who knew I was about to capsize the dink.

As I reached Liberty's side and stood up to tie the dinghy I stepped too far forward and water poured over the bow. It only took a second to swamp the little boat and find myself and my cargo swimming alongside the overturned dinghy.

Not all my luck is bad. The tide and wind was sending all my stuff back toward the beach. I managed to pull myself aboard Liberty barefoot (don't ask me how, but both shoes and socks came off during the mishap) swearing with every heavy breath to return to the gym as I used every ounce of strength I could muster to lift myself over the boomkin, using the rudder pintle for a toe hold.

I searched Liberty for something with which to bail the dinghy and couldn't find so much as a cup. I strapped on a life jacket and, gritting my teeth against the cold, jumped back into the water to see what I could do about righting and bailing the dinghy with my bare hands.

There is probably nothing more humbling to a sailor than the offer of assistance from two fishermen in a motor boat, but my pride had already washed ashore with my shoes. One of which was never to be seen again. I accepted their kindness gratefully.

In the meantime Jean-Luc had beaten any homeless beachcombers to my stuff and regathered it in a pile. Lost in the capsize were the unpinned oarlocks, so I dispatched JL to the nearby marine store for another pair - this time with pins and cotter rings to lock them in place. (They would be stolen within the week, necessitating the purchase of a third pair. Maybe I need to buy them by the dozen?)

The rest of my time aboard Liberty was wonderful and uneventful. I spent seven enjoyable days sanding and varnishing the brightwork and getting aquainted with my new boat before flying to Kansas City for a weekend with my kids and grandchildren.

Varnishing is a pleasure compared to life in Iraq.

A relaxing moment at the dinnete (posing).

A parting shot of Liberty from the dinghy
as I begin the journey back to Iraq.

Moved to a mooring

It's frustrating to be eleven timezones away from Liberty, but it was especially hard on the 11th when she was moved from her berth in Kona Kai to a mooring just around the point. The broker took care of the move and was thoughtful enough to snap these pictures.

She's waiting patiently.

A few more pictures of "Libby"

The first picture is of the interior looking aft. As you come below the galley is immediately to port (left) and a sit down nav station is facing aft on the starboard side.

Forward of the nav station, just behind the seat, is a roomy wet locker that drains directly into the bilge - for foul weather gear.

Aft of the galley on the starboard side is a dinette with a beautifully varnished teak table. The dinette does not make into a double berth. The only flaw I've found in Libby's design is the total absence of a sea berth when she's on a starboard tack.

This is the engine room. Notice anything missing?

A boat named Liberty

For almost three years I've lived on a military base in Iraq named "Camp Liberty". Is it ironic that my next home would also be named Liberty? Maybe God leaves breadcrumbs for us to follow. Maybe not, but it feels good to think of it as an omen of approval. And maybe this time my home will be appropriately named.

The boat is a Kendall 32, cutter rigged - that means she has one mast and two fore sails. At ten tons she's a heavy boat and capable of crossing any ocean. Her antecedents in design have been made famous by a couple of their owners - Vito Dumas who, in 1942, circled the globe via the southern oceans, past the Horn and Cape Hope, and Robin Knox-Johnston who left England in 1969 to win the Golden Globe and the honor of being the first person to circumnavigate the globe alone and without stopping. Nine boats competed but his 32' Ketch, "Suhaili", was the only one to cross the finish line. Both of these boats were, you might say, Liberty's grandmothers, being identical in hull design and displacement.

Her granddaughters - with hulls laid in the same mold - are the Westsail 32's, iconic blue water boats, one of which, Satori, survived the "perfect storm" - albeit without her captain. Ray Leonard was ordered by the Coast Guard to abandon Satori, leaving her to fend for herself. And she survived the storm alone. Leonard found her washed up on a beach in Maryland and re-floated her. She was undamaged. Tough boats, these Archer-Atkins double enders.