Remakes, sequels and other demonstrations of a total lack of imagination.
Poor June Allyson, Godzilla and even King Kong, at the mercy of those far stupider, less imaginative and certainly crueler than they.
Taking a respite from preparing for the challenges of the Atlantic and knowing that my cornucopia of hundreds of channels that I get on FIOS will soon be replaced with the wondrous, so 80’s, cable system of the Netherlands, I am enjoying some of my last days with TCM, Turner Classic Movies, one of the great accomplishments of the western world in the last decade of the 20th century. I’ll miss it. In the Netherlands, I will have a nice assortment of some 30 channels, with even a few American ones, like Nat Geo and of course, American reality shows that prove while we can’t bring democracy to the rest of the world, we can give them bread and circuses.
So, I decided to watch “My Man Godfrey”, with David Niven and June Allyson. Another sad remake, and almost my definition, a failure because they are trying to depict a story that worked in the 1930’s, but 20 years later, seemed so out of place. A world war will do that.
A pity to see someone like June Allyson, who always played such a brave, dutiful air force wife, relegated to the role of a brainless heiress.
Almost as sad as seeing King Kong and Godzilla put in roles in which they have no place.
Now, Eva Gabor on the other hand… a reminder of why I liked “Green Acres” so much.
Month: May 2014
Angst and Anticipation
As I walked down the very crowded subway platform for the “E” train at 53rd and Lex the other day, I was struck, no, not by a train, nor even by the off tune melodies of the aging musician performing at the middle of the platform, but in that moment, I saw life with a clarity that normally eludes me in the cacophony that is my mind.
I saw angst.
I saw angst in the face of the Asian college girl clutching a portfolio heading to the lower west side, maybe the Garment District?
I saw angst in the face of the two workers, clearly tired after a long day, heading home, where maybe more work waited.
As I hurried along, up the very long escalator, and much like the train tracks (of course, you all know that one of the things that makes the NYC subway system unique in the world, is that it was built on a four track system, two in every direction, an express and local track), we have two columns of people, the standers on the right and the walkers on the left. Both the up and down escalators are segmented so. There is no written rule, no signs, it’s just New Yorkers, who realize that this systems works to make all more efficient and hurry us on our way. This is the capitol of “Time is Money” after all.
As I hurry along the corridor, with the 80’s tile look, that did not exist when I was young, as the three subway lines in NYC were still somewhat separate, even though the City had owned the lines since just after WWII, I arrive on my uptown #6 train platform and it’s full of people.
Really full. I can see down the tunnel that a train is maybe two minutes away, but clearly this crowd is like 12 minutes worth ( they usually run every 4 minutes at this time of day) like we’re going to need those Japanese Platform Men that push everyone into the cars like sardines. Yes, folks, 12 minutes will fill a train like that. This ain’t the Sticks. No, this is the Big Apple, where the trains run all the time and in the middle of the night, when the time between trains does increase to 20 minutes, there will be standing room only.
So, now, as we pack into this subway car, we’re so packed in, that one does not need to hold a hand rail. We’re all so close, it’s impossible to fall. The first thing I spot is this really annoying ad by some new travel company that wants you to book air travel on their site by making fun of people on the train. The first picture shows a woman having to stand right next to a taller man. Her solution, book a trip with this annoying company and they will whisk you away from the hoi polio.
Their next picture shows a crying baby, with the same solution. Do these people even ride the subway? Did they just get off the bus from Denver or what?
It’s clear they do not ride the train, as one thing we all know, babies don’t cry on the train. They seem to love trains. They love trains so much, at 4 p.m.; the strollers are lined up with parents/nannies holding the kids up along the fence overlooking the New York Central tracks on the 97th St. overpass as the Commuter trains roar underneath entering the tunnel towards Grand Central Station.
But right now, as we leave the 53rd St. station, people still wait. There is a train right behind us, (at this time of day, they pretty much run the #6 as close together as technically feasible, maybe every two minutes) thankfully; otherwise a few more people would have tried to squeeze their way in. Next stop, 59th St., an express stop, so the same scene, as there will be loads of people who took the express from lower Manhattan, and now are transferring to the Local. We are still so crowded, as people get off, even more get on. Those by the doors have to reshuffle. Everyone understands ritual, no tourists here, they repack themselves in a way, so when their stop comes, they will be ready. Finally, at 77th St., Hunter College, more get off than get on. Upper East Side people are leaving; those getting on now are going to the Bronx. At the next two stops, 86th and 96th St., the exodus continues as the demographics of the train has transformed itself over the last half dozen stops. More baby carriages, mostly blue collared hard workers.
So I realize that while most have Angst, I have Anticipation.
I’m happy with where I am. I’m lonely at times; I miss friends, family, Julie and more friends. Did I say I’m lonely? Sometimes oppressively so.
So I am full of anticipation.
I anticipate the challenges of living in different cultures. I think about the occasions where someone will be speaking to me in Dutch and I’m trying to figure out what they are communicating. I know I only have a few seconds, before I must with give them my stupefied face, which means, I have no clue what you’re saying to me or I actually do understand the gist of what they are saying and I’ll smile and nod agreement, hoping that I did understand correctly. Most of the time I do understand the gist, if not the nuance. The other times, I’ll usually end up in the wrong place, at the wrong time or with an order of monkey brains, when all I wanted was monkey wrench.
Nowadays, if you avoid the tourist traps, which by the way are the same in every country, I’d say about 60% speak English, so it behooves me to learn Dutch better. How else can I tell them I want the kersen flap and not the apfel flap?
So, one of my goals in the coming year is to learn Dutch, improve my German, and down the road, learn Spanish so I can participate in the captivating conversations of Julie’s Spanish family and friends and even improve my Italian, to a point where I can read the newspaper (in Italy, they don’t dumb down, they smart up their newspapers).
Now, a few facts about the Netherlands you should know:
I am usually scrupulous in talking about the Netherlands and not saying Holland. But since the city I anticipate being in is in Zuid-Holland, I have occasionally used the term Holland.
The name of the country is “the Netherlands”. Most people call it Holland because in the Golden Age, Amsterdam was the most important city/harbor/are in the country (the rest of the country was pretty much underdeveloped or under water – they had not yet started poldering (making dry land using dikes and wind mills powering water pumps). Amsterdam lies in the province of Noord-Holland. Of course there is also a province called South-Holland and that was also important, as it is near the sea.
People living in the Holland sections don’t mind, those from the eastern provinces, do!
Lastly, in WWII, The Dutch found a way to unmask German spies, by letting them pronounce the word Scheveningen. The combination of the s-sound and the g- sound (which is very guttural in Dutch) is virtually impossible for anyone whose native language is not Dutch.
I can’t even pronounce it in English.
Finished with Engine
I arrived last night at 20:30 after leaving Atlantic City the previous day at 10:00.
Another solo overnight passage done. IT feels great to be “home”; in this case, home is the Port Edgewood Marina, a few miles south of downtown Providence, Rhode Island. I’m here because the marina people are very nice and they offer extremely good monthly rates. I’m paying ¼ of what I was paying for the week in A.C.
This is also a great place to put the finishing touches on the boat for its July passage across the Atlantic. My friends Richard and Melanie are also here, so it’s always more pleasant to work with helping hands and advice available.
The trip from Atlantic City, 215 nm, almost 400 km, went as planned. I left A.C. with light winds that died down my midafternoon. I retrieved the paravane birds, as they take 0.6 kts, off my speed, and motored on into the night.
By about 1:00 a.m., the winds had increased again form the NW, producing wind driven NW waves 2-3’ high. There was also an 8 second Southeasterly swell. The rolling of Dauntless had continued to increase, so finally I threw the birds back in the water (I had kept the poles extended). As usually, the roll was decreased by two thirds.
By mid-morning I was just south of Block Island. It is somewhat of a coincidence, but it seems whenever I have these long trips, no matter have many boats I see, or don’t see, as the case may be, there is always one, that after having gone hours and hours without seeing anything, a boat will appear that is clearly on a collision course.
But I saw him miles away and was getting ready to change course and pass behind him when he hailed me on the VHF. He said he just wanted to make sure someone was paying attention and I thanked him for the heads up.
Finally, 6.5 months, 700 engine hours and 4000 miles later, I’m back; at least for the time being.
Losing More than Money in Atlantic City
Special People
Friends and relationships are really important to me, and I don’t like losing them. As much as I love Dauntless, I think I may have lost a friend who can’t deal with the idea of me leaving to travel the world. Being in Atlantic City reminds me not of the usual A.C. loss of money, but loss of a friend.
And that’s the one thing I did not anticipate about this boat life: I really miss some of my friends in NYC. I’ve never had a lot of friends, but have always had some very close ones and most of them are in the Netherlands, Germany and Italy. But these past few years in NYC, I became close to a couple of people who really helped me in so many ways, and I really miss their friendship and support. They helped me put life in perspective and made my life richer.
I have always valued relationships more than anything else, certainly more than money. Even when I had little money, what little I had I spent to travel to maintain those relationships.
So to lose a close friend, is a really sad event for me. I just hope that it’s not a permanent loss.
More Hijinks on the High Sea & Why Poodles are Smarter than Dolphins
The last two days have gone as well as I had hoped, other than a few operator errors. As I write this, I am about 20 miles of the coast of Maryland, just abeam off Ocean City, MD and about 60 miles south southwest of my destination, Atlantic City. Hopefully, I’ll arrive there at 6 p.m. tonight.
Let’s recap. Since leaving Savannah exactly a week ago, I have been running hard to get north and get home as I have people to see and places to go.
Being alone, makes it somewhat harder, as I do not get a rest at the wheel while in the ICW, must be constantly vigilant, not to get out of the narrow channel and run aground and lastly, since I need to make miles, I have had to put in 14 hour days, just to go 100 miles per day.
The day before yesterday, it was an 18 hour day as I pressed on till 11:00 p.m. so that I could get by a bunch of annoying bridges that only open at certain times during the day, but will open on demand at night, thus saving tons of waiting time.
Thus Thursday night, I got past the Great Bridge and was tied up on the wall between the Great Bridge and the Great Bridge Lock. Locking thru the next morning, I was 12 miles south of my destination, Portsmouth, and thanks to a great tug boat captain, I was being fueled in Portsmouth at 10:00 a.m. All my efforts of the night before would have gone in vain, if not for this helpful captain of the tug Goose Creek,
who warned me in a timely fashion to keep up with him, as there was a railroad bridge, that while normally open, was going to close as soon as his tug passed through, as there was a train coming. So not only did this captain tell me to come as quick as I could and get behind him, he also told the bridge operator that I was running as fast as my little legs could take me and not to close the span on me. That was really thoughtful and I thanked him. It saved me more than an hour and this was confirmed when I saw the parade of boats (that had been held up) come past as I finished fueling up almost two hours later.
I got 620 gallons (2400 liters) of diesel at the cheapest price on the east coast, $3.47/gallon.
So by noon, I was underway, passing out of the ICW forever, into the mouth of the Chesapeake, near Hampton Roads, current home port of the Aircraft Carrier USS Theodore Roosevelt (CVN-71), which just happened to be docking just as I was leaving. Impressive sight, though it meant I had to spend the next few hours staying out of the way of her support fleet as they came steaming up the channel from the Atlantic. It only got hairy once, as a large bulk coal carrier, a navy oiler and little old Dauntless all converged at the narrow channel that is the passage over the Chesapeake Bay Tunnel. I snuck around the red buoy just as the oiler was turning into it. He missed me by 900 feet and I was finally in the Atlantic.
Waves and wind were as forecast, so I had already put the paravane poles out and had adjusted the guys. Now the portside pole is slightly bent due to operator error a few days ago. This had the effect of not wanting to fall away from the boat as freely as it should. I, like the little experimenter, I am, decide it really didn’t matter, for as soon as I threw the bird in the water, the pole would have to get to its correct position.
Wrong, wrong wrong as Leonie used to say.
So, as I deploy the birds, by basically throwing them overboard, the port side pole is not extended all the way and the line for the bird has so much slack that the wind catches it and it snags on a small cleat that is on the hand rail of the upper deck. But I don’t see that immediately, so as the bird goes in the water, the line is snagged, so the bird is right next to the stern of the boat, instead of being 15 feet out. The pole is standing straight up though bent back towards the stern. Not good, I think, I put the boat in reverse, to completely stop all forward movement, so I can retrieve the bird and try again. I pull the bird back in, see the snag over my head, climb up on the cap rail to unsnag it and all is well, as I throw the bird back in the water, the pole goes to its normal position. I then throw the starboard bird in and we are underway. A few minutes later, as I am walking around the boat, checking that all is OK and the lines, guys are all well-adjusted, I see that my stern pole and American flag are missing. The only thing left is the stub of the wooden pole where it broke. I wonder how could that have happened? Age Probably?
Then, it dawns on me, as this 40 pound bird came flying around the back of the boat, it must have wacked the flag pole breaking it off. Of course all this happened in full sight of the Navy Oiler, you know, the one that came within 900 feet and they are probably still laughing about it. Just returning from a deployment, they probably needed the laugh more than I needed the flag and pole.
A week earlier, the crew of the large container ship that passed ¼ mile away while I was stopped dead in the water for more than an hour, must still be scratching their heads wondering what I was doing. They did see me climb the mast (thank you John Duffy for installing those mast steps) to put the up-down guy back thru its pulley. And thanks to my Captain’s class, I knew not to wave my arms signaling distress.
A few hours earlier, I had been experimenting (there’s that word again) with the winch, trying to tweak the system I use to pull in the poles. When done with my experiment (which by the way did show me why a self-tailing winch is different than a regular winch and much more costly) I had retied the up-down guy line, but clearly not well enough. This same guy came loose because I had not properly secured it. When it came loose, all hell broke out. I was standing on the bow, admiring the view as Dauntless cut through the Atlantic blue water, when I heard a not so loud thunk. Thunks are never good and in this case, when I turned around, I saw no pole!
I looked again, thinking my brain was just canceling out stuff it sees all the time and still no pole, but then as I go aft, I see the pole is aimed straight down to Davy Jones’ locker. At least it and the bird attached to it are still attached to the boat. John and Red had designed the paravane system so that in case of a snag or something stupid like this, the pole was the weakest link. So, while the pole did bend a little bit, the bracket attached thru the gunnel (wall of the boat) was fine. It did take me awhile to figure out how to get this pole which is supposed to be extended at a 45° angle from the side of the boat was now at 180° Eeek
Well, it took me awhile to figure that out, but eventually I used the boom to extend the line a few feet away from the boat, so as I used the winch, the line had some leverage that wasn’t straight up. It worked and while I am stopped in the water doing this work, I see the one boat, a large container ship get closer and closer. The one and only boat I see all day and he is going to go right by me. Well, this does make me nervous, as I am underway, but not making way.
So I’m up on the top of the mast, as this big ships glides by. I just had to rethread the guy line thru the pulley and down to the cleat where I made sure to attach it correctly, so it couldn’t slip off again.
The pole has few degrees bend in it, but works fine none the less.
Now the day itself started out strangely enough.
That morning, more than a dozen dolphins arrived to swim with my bow wave and the two birds in the water; I thought it was a great omen. In my excitement, holding the camera with one hand, I open the pilot house door with the other.
And that’s when things started to go bad. In my haste to open the pilot house door, go out and take pictures, I managed to snag with my foot the cord and charger for my laptop, which I use for my primary navigation system.
As my foot went to step over the sill onto the outside deck, this resulted in me drop kicking the charger converter into the ocean. I was mesmerized as I watched the cord slide off the deck and into the ocean. The realization came to me immediately that I had no backup, it would be days before I could get anew charger and therefore, I would have to be navigating with my smart phone for the next two to three days. I’d done it before, but it’s not the way to go. All of this flashed before my brain in those seconds.
Then, I realized, maybe one of the dolphins will know this was not a mackerel I threw to them and therefore snag it for me. I looked down hopefully, wishing to see one of them surface with the charger in its mouth. I’m even starting to think how I could retrieve it from them.
Then reality set in, even with a dozen dolphins around, wouldn’t you expect at least one to grab on to this cord and retrieve it for me? I did! I regret to tell you that not one offered to help.
I now think Poodles are smarter.
An aside.
I was curious as to which aircraft carrier this was, so I googled CVN 71 and Theodore Roosevelt turns up. I really admired him, reinforced by my experience as a principal in the NYC school system, as fate would have it, in the Theodore Roosevelt High School Campus. TR’s most famous quote, “Speak Softly, but carry a big stick; you will go far.” I didn’t. During my time, I did the opposite; I spoke loudly and carried no stick. A dangerous position to be in, umm sort of like Obama. (Julie has learned from my mistakes and she is far more like TR).http://www.public.navy.mil/airfor/cvn71/Pages/default.aspx
Well, at least that strategy got me to Dauntless sooner rather than later.
I wonder what kind of boat Obama will get??
All’s Well that Ends Well
A Confession
I was escorted out of Georgia by a pair of dolphins.
A great omen to start any trip and as the day has progressed, it has only gotten better. Having put out the paravane polls even before entering the sound, I left the birds on deck, waiting until he water was deeper (I like at least 25 to 30 feet). As the morning progressed however, I didn’t need them. The little wind there had been has produced these little half foot waves from the southwest. As my course in to the northeast, I have a little following sea, which the Kadey Krogen does particularity well with.
Now almost 10 hours later, not much has changed. The waves have grown to one foot and there is a long period swell from the east, so occasionally I get a bigger roll, maybe 5° to each side, with a small constant roll of a few degrees. I still have not deployed the paravanes and at this point, maybe another 1.5 hours to anchor, I probably won’t. But I been reminded how much I love the ocean and I realize that I have not had conditions so benign since late summer.
As I planned my route north these last months, I would look at the ant trail of my previous trip south and an unpleasant feeling would settle in my stomach. The realization that even though I love being on the ocean and have always tried to maximize my ocean time, for I love the air, the color of the sea, the expanse of sky, I had also had a hard winter of it.
Oh, no, not like, virtually everyone reading this. I had no days, weeks and months of frigid winds, mind numbing cold and countless shovel fulls of snow, ice and then coaxing the car to start.
No, it hasn’t been like that, but as I looked at my previous journey, down the coast from Rhode Island, across the Gulf Stream to the Bahamas and back, during the last 6 months, I realized that I had let myself press on ever worsen conditions on a day to day or week to week basis.
In other words, I would tell myself that it’s not so bad, only a little worse than the week before.
Error
This video doesn’t exist
Now, of course, I do have the paravanes, which are a great equalizer, but I had forgotten how pleasant the ocean can be and normally is!
I have also let the schedule push me, not in any unsafe manner, but certainly I have put up with a lot of discomfort.
So today, has been Mother Nature’s way of resetting by expectations.
This summer planning the trip across the North Atlantic, I fully expect conditions to be similar to today. And if they are not, I will wait until they are. But I also know, that Dauntless ready and able to dance on those waves when she has to.
Update
I ended up deploying the paravanes, as the last hour the winds had picked up and that built 3 foot waves off my stern quarter. We were rolling, not much, the usual, 15 degrees in each direction. I made hasty decision to thrown in the birds that had been resting on deck all day.
In they went, and the ride settled down, but then I stressed about getting them back. Why, you ask?
Because about the same time, my auto pilot went TU. If you don’t know what that means, ask one of your friends who has been in the military, and if you don’t have a friend like that. Umm, I suppose there is such a thing as a free lunch.
So, with no autopilot, I could not do my usual of setting it and retrieving the birds. I had to use the never before contingency plan 4102, anchor in the channel, retrieve paravanes, haul anchor and haul ass.
Worked like a charm. I took less than ten minutes and it was nice to do that without worrying where in hell the boat was going.
Another hour later, I am happily anchored at big Bay Cheek. Turns out the peninsula that is on the other side of the creek, is full of houses. New houses by the looks of it, or better said, house built since the last hurricane wiped them out.
Don’t you love a political system where you can pretend to be anti-governemt, tea oarty, right winger, etc, but then every ten years get a new house, since you have subsidized house insurance because you were so smart you built in a clear flood plain. And before you think I am a Democrat, the Democrats allow all the crap to happen. We have truly reached a point of total me, me, me in this country. And our politicians are leading the parade.
Sorry, I got carried away.
OK, for all of you that I haven’t offended and are still reading, I hoping I found the fault with the autopilot.
Tomorrow, we shall see what we shall see.
Thanks for Reading
P.S. I think Microsoft Word has the solution to the Washington mess. When the spell check got to politicians, it suggested pelicans. Not a bad idea at all. Replace everyone in Washington with pelicans. Can be any worse. At least we’ll get realistic fish quotas.
On an Obama can even be an eagle, or is that his wife?
Good Day
Images of Heaven Took Me to Hell
Another great song, that brings up so many wonderful times that almost always ended in tears!
A lot of tears!! Ok enough reminiscing about Shirley & Laurel
Nothing is sacred – so give me your soul my love
Nothing is wasted on someone like you
Somebody killed me – they tore out my heart my love
Somebody filled me with photos of you
And there’s nothing I can do – the media made you
There’s nothing I can do – cause you don’t exist – you don’t exist
Just images of heaven that take me to hell
Images of heaven – or something for sale
Oh images of heaven – images of heaven
Performed and Written my Peter Godwin 1982
Today is my last day of driving 220 miles back and forth between Savannah, Georgia and Charleston, South Carolina. This drive gives me all this time to reflect and think. Too much time, but I’ll be back to the normal routine on Saturday, as Dauntless and I head north.
I had thought I had found an inexpensive slip at Tom’s River, NJ, but because it’s already late spring, I may have to find an alternative. The weather looks iffy for Saturday to travel on the outside, though it will be improving. We’ll see.
I also thought I had a couple that wanted to accompany me, but that didn’t work out, so it’s me single handing again. Hey, at least it keeps my mind occupied and I don’t have the time to “What if” myself to death and then bore you with the gory details.
Oh, there are no gory details. OK Let’s back slowly away and no one will get hurt.
A few thoughts on the last 2 weeks:
- Sea School has been great. The instruction outstanding and effective. Over the years, I have sat though countless adult learning classes and most of the time, one is grateful that they disarmed you at the door, because otherwise these types of classes are so boring, someone is bound to go Postal. But the Sea School turned out to be totally different in always good. Probably much of it was the instructor, a 40 year tug captain who actually knows how to teach (which means his students learn). http://www.seaschool.com/
- I passed all of the written tests yesterday, including a very hard rules of the road (in which you must get >90%). But honestly I learned a lot of stuff that I should know.
- The contrast between the two cities, Savannah and Charleston is like night and day. Savannah is a gorgeous town, full of old moss-covered, shaggy trees (I don’t know if it’s actually moss, but we northerners know what I’m describing).
Shaggy Trees in Savannah Savannah seems also very diverse. Charlestown on the other hand has a vibe of, if it was up to us, we’d still be a slave state. Even the Costco in Charleston has a very strange un-Costco like vibe.
- I didn’t mind the drive. Check out the pictures I posted on SmugMug, It did give me time to think, far more so than on Dauntless, since driving is a more automatic function. Though as you can tell from some of these posts, sometimes I reflect too much and end up having regrets that really don’t exist. But my friends and relationships are my raison d’être and I can not even dislike someone I once loved. Which actually serves me well, as i quickly forget past injustices, which I believe helps reduce my stress.
- I got to talk to some friends who I havent talked to in a while, like my oldest friend from the UW, we met in Lander Hall in 1969. Though that does make me wonder why I have far more long-lasting friends in Europe than the U.S.
OK, enough of this, I listen to different music on Dauntless, pretty much only classical. It puts me in a different state of mine, one I think that is closer to nature. That’s why I love the sea. So, probably the next extensive writing about cars and driving will be next winter as I drive from Holland to Italy. Now, that will be fun, listening to It’s Too Late by Jim Carroll, will have that car dancing on the edge.
I just finished putting the groceries away. Tomorrow, I will get the boat ready for Action on the North mid-Atlantic on Saturday. Weather and Sea state will determine route. You can follow me on MarineTraffic.com search for Dauntless, mmsi 367571090
One final tidbit. I will send this to Our Man in China to get his take. His blog is http://dispatchesfromchina.wordpress.com/
You can always see more pictures of mine at http://dauntless.smugmug.com/
Dauntless at Sea 