To be continued???

Seven months have passed since my last post on this adventure blog.  A lot has happened in these seven months.  When I finally returned to San Diego I was filled with feelings of defeat,... uncertainty of the future.  Deep feelings of failure, embarrassment, sorrow.  But somehow, underneath all the pain there were still some threads of achievement.  I did my best to hold on to the good moments and to learn from my experience.  Yes, I lost some money.  But I recall the words of a millionaire, "money can always be reclaimed".  Did I really lose money?  Or was this simply the cost of learning?  A university graduate is typically deep in debt upon graduation, but that's the cost of learning.  I recall what I told my wife a few days ago when I spoke to her on the phone and informed her that I would be leaving this expedition.  I told her, "I feel that I could do anything".  And I really felt that I had proven to myself that I could actually plan, prepare, and step way out of my comfort zone to do something big.  I truly did gain something valuable from this experience, and in relatively short time.

Still, I had to deal with the reality of getting on with life.  I was broke and jobless.  I had to somehow find a way to get back on my feet.  My wife was less than pleased with me.  "What am I going to do?", I thought  It's like starting over in a way.  "Where will I work?  Where will we end up living?  How am I going to get through the month?"

When the plane began descending over San Diego I felt relieved that the discomfort of this ordeal was coming to an end, and anxious to see my family again after what was supposed to be a three month separation.  My dad met me at the airport and brought me back.  After eating, showering, and putting away all my gear it was time to begin the long process of mending the damages and moving forward.

I needed some time to hide away.  I didn't want to see anybody initially but had to regardless.  I felt lost, almost as if in a new land, suspicious of others, wanting to protect what little dignity remained in me.  I had to start working as soon as possible.  During the first month after my return times were financially very difficult.  I had random jobs, or gigs.  It certainly wasn't enough.  I decided I needed to get into a career and I applied for the Border Patrol.  I applied and waited for a response.  Meanwhile, I got a part-time job on the weekends and resumed working as a background performer on TV shows in Los Angeles.

During the past seven months I continued to stay in contact with Felipe and Ricardo regarding the expedition.  Alberto even wrote to me after I left saying that he appreciated my help while I was there but didn't approve of the way I left.  He said that I was still welcome to join up with them in Florida where they will meet the second boat that will accompany them on the voyage.  He also said that I'm more than welcome to visit his ranch in Sao Paulo but that I probably wouldn't like the food.  This comment made me chuckle.  I ignored his email because I learned that he is not trustworthy.  I preferred to get my information from Felipe and Ricardo instead.

I am still in touch with Felipe and Ricardo.  They both seem to prefer to leave the expedition in the depths of the abyss but through tidbits of information that I received from them as well as the marina owners, Bruce in Port Milford, CT and Keith in Florida.  Basically, they finally set sail about a month after I left.  The crew consisted of Alberto, Ricardo, Felipe and two or three others, I think local guys.  They sailed to Bermuda and according to Alberto's claims, they survived I think three hurricanes.  I think one was supposedly while they were still at sea.  Regardless, the sail was badly damaged by the strong winds and Alberto was asking for someone to donate a sail.  While at Bermuda, Chris, an female adventurer from Brazil, flew to Bermuda with a man who I believe was her boyfriend.  They were there only a few days and left.  She sent me a message warning me not to go to Florida.  She further said that the boat was junk and Alberto was crazy.  She referred to the boat as Alberto's floating museum.  As there are always two sides to every story, Alberto returned fire accusing Chris of engaging in lewd acts of promiscuity with the locals and intent to import narcotics to Brazil.

A short time later Felipe's time had run out and he returned to Brazil.  Alberto accused him of being a coward claiming that a true friend and seaman would never abandon his crew.  I found his remarks to be totally out of line and unfair.  Felipe clearly had a seventy-five day vacation and no more.  The expedition was clearly off to a terrible start.  Why didn't Alberto accuse me of even worse conduct?  I left after only a few days.  Furthermore, I went AWOL.

It was longer than a month later when Ricardo returned to Brazil.  The other crew members had obviously left long before and Alberto remained there alone.  Since that time I've received a few emails from the dock owner in Florida, Keith.  The Poseidon Flyer has been parked in his yard for a long time and Alberto hadn't made a payment in months.  Keith had had enough and sent a message to Alberto informing him that the boat would be towed the next week and placed in a salvage yard.  Alberto replied with a desperate plea for mercy claiming that he was stuck in Bermuda with a sail-less boat, broke, ill with a heart condition, going through a divorce as his wife was leaving him, and deeply depressed.  He promised to make a payment by credit card.  A couple months later (January 10th of 2011) I received a similar message from Keith.  This time Alberto claimed to be in a free hospital in London waiting for permission by the physician to travel.  He further said that he really needs Keith to be a friend at this time since his wife is soliciting a divorce and he is in financial ruin.  He then invited Keith to visit him at one of his apartments in Rio and Sao Paulo, or to visit his farm there.  He proposed that he connect Keith with miners of precious stones where he could get a good price for emeralds, diamonds, and amethysts.

I don't know the current location of Alberto nor his status.  I wish him well.  He has had a lot of life experience.  I will always remember him.  I think his time of high adventure has, however, come to an end.  He needs to redirect his energies to other pursuits.

As for Ricardo and Felipe, they are back on track in Brazil.  I recently received a greeting from Ricardo.  He was at Felipe's house.  I wrote back to both of them.  Felipe let me in on their sailing news.  They are planning to do a sailing adventure along the coast of Brazil in the next couple of years and when the time becomes nearer they would like to discuss it with me.

As for me, I passed the written test for the Border Patrol but failed the oral exam which consisted of three questions that depict hypothetical scenarios and test your response to each situation.  I am convinced that a regular job just isn't in the cards for me.  So, I'm working more hours at my part-time job, doing modeling and acting gigs, and stock photography.  I've also intensified my language studies with the goal of becoming certified in Spanish interpretation and gaining a conversational level of Russian.  I've recently had the pleasure of working with director Carl Weathers, aka Apollo Creed, on a military type video shoot in San Diego where I played a U.S. army soldier on patrol in Iraq who is badly injured by a rocket propelled grenade blast.  It was a very unique experience.  Ultrasound modeling jobs have enriched my travel life sending me to Vancouver, Canada and Las Vegas with future trips soon to New Orleans and Baltimore, and many more locations.

I've also recently acquired a DSLR camera capable of recording HD video.  I've been learning video, and I love it.  I really enjoy doing video because it involves many more creative elements such as movement and acting.  I remember what I said to my wife, "I can do anything".   In this expedition, I was just a crew member trusting another to navigate the waters of our expedition, one who was obviously incompetent.  I have big plans once again, in fact, there are many, many things I feel that I must do, but this time I will take the wheel and navigate the vessel through the waters of the seas and straits. 

Thursday, July 15th 1:00 am

Laguardia airport - bench near baggage claim

Amazing.  I just spent a solid seven hours without moving from my seat here.  It took me exactly seven hours to peel a whole 32 ounce bottle of raw cocoa beans.  One by one I peeled each one and never moved from this seat, never stood up, never stretched my legs.  I simply sat here for seven straight hours.

I've been here at this bench now for a total of nearly nine hours.  The time was well used.  I had placed my damp dirty clothes over my suitcase so they could dry.  I removed my boots and socks to air them out and relieve the blister on my ankle.  The area around me looks like a homeless camp.  While I was peeling cocoa beans several people passing by looked curiously at me.  One security guard thought I was rolling a joint.  He thought that the pile of cocoa bean skins lying on my notebook on my lap was weed.  He asked me what they taste like so I gave him one.  "Not bad", he said.

Now to gather my stuff, repack, and go upstairs to the check-in area.  I still have a few hours to kill.  Maybe I'll get a little rest before check-in opens and I finally board that plane back to San Diego.  

Wednesday, July 14th 4:37 pm

Laguardia airport - on a bench near baggage claim

"Life at the Bottom" sounds like appropriate reading for me now.  At this time I'm supposed to be in Philadelphia waiting to soon board my connecting flight but instead I'm sitting on a rather uncomfortable bench staring out the window of the airport terminal.  My flight was canceled due to bad weather.  It's been raining all day and at times it pours. My unwashed clothes stink of sweat.  I haven't changed since the day before.  I need to air out my boots.

View from a bench at Laguardia airport in New York

It's going to be a long thirteen hours.  Hum, could that be my lucky number?  The ticket agent, bless her heart, booked me on the next earliest flight available which is at 6:00 am tomorrow, so I'll be spending a lovely night at the airport,... not with my wife. 

I've been eating from my nearly exhausted supply of dates, prunes, and raw cocoa beans.  I've probably dropped about six pounds since I left San Diego a few days ago.  I don't feel too hungry though.  I seem to have adapted.  Plus, the cocoa beans are an amazing food and excellent energy source.  I think a person could live a long time on raw cocoa beans and nothing more. 

Maybe something positive could come from all this crazy mess.  God, I hope so.  I'm not looking forward to going back to non-sense low-paying jobs while I constantly submit for paying gigs that I rarely book.  It's a hard life for a dreamer.  So far it's just a dream, still far from reach.

So, what to do with all this time I now have?  I think I'll try to find objects to photograph and maybe sell as stock.  There doesn't seem to be many opportunities sitting here but I'll do something.  Then, when I get bored of that, maybe I'll open the bottle of cocoa beans and peel the skins off of them.  That should keep me busy for a while.

Wednesday July 14th 11:34 am

Laguardia airport - gate 1

Security in New York reminds me of that in Mexico.  Military police, both men and women dressed in fatigues, are on guard at posts throughout Grand Central Terminal and on the streets.  Airport security is higher as well with more personnel on duty.  I chuckle as an overweight female security officer wobbles past me, a "Special Services" label on her sleeve.

I'm finally relaxed and ready to get back to San Diego, back to the cool weather.  But then what?  I've got no job, no home, nothing really.  Everything was put on hold to do this trip.  I had big expectations, big plans to launch a photography career which has been on the decline ever since the recession hit.  Maybe I'll join the military.  It seems that it may be a good fit.  It could at least be exciting.  I will make another attempt at the film industry.  So far it's been a disappointment.  Every year gets better but without having enough 'filler' work I just can't seem to make ends meet. 

This trip seemed to be the perfect opportunity to utilize all my talents and interests.  So disappointing to be leaving but I must some how move forward. 

Yesterday Alberto was gone much of the day buying stuff at Home Depot.  Meanwhile, Ricardo, Felipe, and I pulled the anchors for inspection and to measure the length of chain and rope.  We laughed and joked around while we worked.  We developed a good working rhythm.  I will keep in touch with them.  They are good guys. 

Felipe and Ricardo working on the anchor

Wednesday July 14th about 8:00 am

Metro-North train to New York

I feel like Rambo in First Blood part one.  I successfully removed all 100 pounds of my luggage and escaped undetected from the crew of "The Elusive" while they slept.  Yes, I went AWOL.  I guess this makes for a more interesting end to a seemingly ill-fated adventure.


Ricardo and Felipe reacted slightly as the floor creaked under my steps while Alberto slept soundly in his room.  Fortunately I got up at 6:20 in the morning.  The rain is now coming down hard and persistent.

I'm alone in the beautiful state of Connecticut despite hundreds of people being on the subway.  I feel sad about the situation.  But after assessing the project in its entirety I sincerely feel that I've made the right decision.  I think Alberto is desperate to find crew members.  Only a few of us were able and willing to take on this challenge.

Last night I wrote a letter to Alberto explaining my position.  I wrote in Portuguese basically explaining to him that based on my observations and considering the information I've gathered from dock owners and Zach, and also my gut instincts, this boat and the other boat are far from ready and the trip will likely take much longer than the 60 - 75 days Alberto claims.  He sounds optimistic about everything but reality paints a different picture.

I wrote to him that I must return to California and I would consider meeting up with them in Florida if I have proof that everything is ready.  I pointed out that if he can't even respect a person's simple request to purchase his own healthy food then there are some serious problems in this project.  Furthermore, such restrictions can terribly deplete the creative energies necessary for a photographer or filmographer to do a good work.

This morning, after conducting a test evacuation, I left the letter on my bed and carefully carried out my suitcase.  As I pushed it through the hatch it made a noise as it shifted and Ricardo turned his head slightly but didn't open his eyes.  I carefully climbed down the ladder, set it by my tube of fishing poles, and went to get a drink of water from the bathroom.  As I returned I stood at the edge of the wooden deck in front of the Port Milford office and replay in my mind the events of the past few days.  I've been here long enough to develop an attachment to life on "The Elusive".  I really like my shipmates Ricardo and Felipe.  We work very well together.  Last night we ate dinner on top of the deck of the bow.  The night was very still and quiet except for the sounds of a few ducks in the distance.  The tide was rising and the lights of the marina reflected on the surface of the still water.  We shared our feelings regarding the situation.  Ricardo reaffirms that he is doing all he can do to get the boat ready.  I reassure him that I understand and it's not his fault.  I can just see that there is so much more to be done and I no longer have confidence in Alberto's ability to organize this project.  They both tell me that they really want me to accompany them on this trip.  "It's a chance of a lifetime", Ricardo says.

Ricardo and Alberto plotting the coordinates of ports in Brazil

I agree with him.  it is a very unique opportunity to live an unforgettable experience, but to dream about it is one thing.  To complete it is another.  We are still quite a way from being able to realize this dream.

It's beautiful to be communicating with my shipmates in their own Brazilian tongue.  I get along well with Brazilians and I have a lot of respect and admiration of them and their country.  It's sad to have to depart.  I just can't find it in me to tell them that I am leaving in the morning.

Felipe preparing the boat for painting

I make my way back to the boat to retrieve one last piece of belongings, my back pack.  I hear some movement inside the boat and wait for silence to return before ascending the ladder.  I seem to have mastered this stealth movement as I maneuver myself through the hatch and over the creaky floor with hardly a sound.  I notice Felipe has changed position in his bed.  I struggle to load my 40-pound pack on my back without making much noise.  As I walk towards the hatch I crouch lowly to avoid hitting the low 5-foot hallway ceiling with my back pack.  I pause next to Felipe's bed and silently say my final goodbyes.  A small towel covers his eyes to prevent the daylight from the hatch above from waking him.  I carefully position myself with my back towards the hatch as I slowly use my legs to push myself up the steps being careful not to make any quick movements or hit the hatch cover above.  A part of me wants Ricardo to wake up so I can say thank you and goodbye.  I stand up on deck peering down at him but he doesn't awaken.  I turn and climb down the ladder, possibly to never see them again.

I pick up my suitcase and tube of fishing poles and proceed to walk away.  A man is standing in the parking lot watching me.  In order to not look suspicious I walk over to him and introduce myself.  Paul is his name.  I tell him about our boat not being ready.

"Yeah, that's the one that's going to sail to Brazil, right?" he asks.

Everyone knows about this voyage.  I explain to him that the boat was supposed to be ready when I arrived but it's not and I don't have the time to invest in it, but if possible, I would meet them in Florida after they leave here.


I say goodbye to Paul and wish him well.  As I walk down the road I stop and turn to take one more final look at "The Elusive".  It stands alone.  Ladders lean against it.  Newspaper is taped along the side to prevent over spray from the painting of the hull.  Pieces of wet paper hang by masking tape loosened from the previous days' rain.  "The Elusive" is far from glamorous but she's got character.  This has great documentary potential.  Alberto has the perfect look for a sailor, too.  If only we had better organization and preparation.  I've worked on several projects in the past that were poorly organized and they turned out to be a waste of time.  Alberto has a ton of life experience, having served in the Brazilian military, sailing the Brazilian coast, exploring many exciting destinations of Latin America, and creating his media company but here he has somehow missed the mark.  Donald Trump would say, "you're fired!"

Perhaps the stress is affecting his sound judgement.  He can't stop saying "puta merda" for everytime he has a complaint about another person or he can't find something in that "bagunça" (mess) of loose equipment, tools, nuts and bolts that lie everywhere inside.

Inside "The Elusive" - bed (on left), kitchen, refrigerator (foreground), ladder to exit

I turn towards the west and continue walking not to look back again.

A young man sitting across the isle in the train is reading a book titled "Life at the Bottom".  The train has now arrived to Grand Central Terminal.

Tuesday, July 13th about 7 pm

The "Elusive"

Defeat, stupidity, deception, disappointment, anger, fear, distress, heartache, sorrow.  That's me right now.  It's time to pick up the pieces and move on.   I made a very, very tough decision.  I'm abandoning ship.  Ricardo has no more minutes left on his phone so I found a pay phone about a mile away in front of the library and arranged a flight departing New York at 1:59 pm tomorrow, arriving to San Diego at 8:19 pm.  Then I must face the reality and result of my actions.  Sometimes I think that it would be better if I were a drug addict or drunk, then I could blame my failures on my habit.  But instead I'm a hard-working honest man with a strong desire to do good and live a purposeful life full of passion.  So what can I blame my failures on?  I can't hide.  It's all me.  And especially this time.  I stepped out and took a risk.  I told a lot of people about this incredible trip and all the wonderful photos and video documentation we were to do, and it's over before it could begin. 

The three of us - Ricardo, Felipe, and I had a talk this morning about the situation and how Alberto wants to do so much to the boat to get it ready and he overlooks the basics plus he's cheap about some things.  The electronics are really good but other stuff is ridiculously cheap.  For example, the zodiac inflatable boat he bought for one-hundred dollars.  It is in terrible condition and requires several patches where it is punctured.  He also wants to paint it because it is so faded from the sun.  It's laughable.  The zodiac is a piece of junk.  He could have saved so much time by just buying a decent used zodiac for a few hundred dollars more.  There's so much work needed to be done inside the boat and the refrigerator needs to be bolted to the floor but the boards are broken under one side of it.  I'm surprised how poorly planned this trip is.  It's crazy because Alberto is very experienced and knows his technical stuff and logistics really well, but is a poor planner and very misinformed about nutrition.  No one is going to convince me that a high sugar diet is essential when you're at sea.  No one will convince me that top raman noodles, brownies, coca cola, and spam contain essential nutrients we need at sea. 

My sleeping quarters

Well, it's over.  It's getting dark.  It rained a lot today.  There's a small leak above my bed that drips when it rains.  Got on the water at least a little today with Ricardo.  We went out on a tiny zodiac inflatable boat he was testing  the engine on.  We ended up having to row back to the dock because it overheated after about five minutes.  Everything except the electronics and camera gear is being refurbished on this boat.  I don't understand why he didn't get a better boat.  he has spent more on the electronics than what the boat cost him.  While we were re-rigging the anchors, I told the guys that I will have to go back to California and continue working there until this thing is ready to sail.  I just don't have the time to be gone so long.  It's a shame because we work so well together and I like working with them, plus I'm practicing my Portuguese which is surprisingly good.

Tomorrow morning I leave, and they don't even know it yet.

Bem, ja vou indo.  Estou com sono mas antes de dormir vou tirar algumas fotos a fora. 

July 12, 2010 night

The "Elusive"

Is it a weak character, or am I just plain loyal?  I didn't break the news.  I was chicken.  We are working so well together and they are really counting on me being part of the crew.  When I returned to the boat this morning Alberto walked by me on his way to the bathroom.

"We are all working.  Where have you been?", he scolds me in Portuguese.


"Levantei as cinco da manha", I answer back in his language.  (I got up at 5 am.)

After eating a can of salmon and a handful of almonds and cocoa beans I get right to work sanding the boat.  Actually not the whole boat, just the top rim that is painted a dark green.

As the sun rises in the sky the sweat drips more and more heavily.  I recall my boss at a company I used to work at telling me that he could envision me on some far away beach sanding a boat like in the final scene of the film "the Shawshank Redemption".  Well, now I'm doing it.

"Shawshank Redemption II"

Zach, a neighbor who has his sailboat docked here at the marina, spent some time visiting us.  He is quite a character.  Reminds me of a cross between Christian Slater and Brian Van Holt (an actor I worked with who played the role of Butchie on the TV series "John from Cincinnati".  Zach is quite experienced on the sea.  He tells me of being caught by a tornado a little over a week ago while on his little sailboat outside of the harbor.  He says that the dingy was lifted 10 feet out of the air.

Zach pulls out another can of Budweiser from an ice-filled bucket.  There seems to be little that he doesn't reveal about himself.  From his proud claim to frequent drug use and promiscuity to his history of being married and divorced five times.  He tells me he's writing a novel based on his life experiences addressing topics such as politics and life at sea.

"So I understand you're the star of the show", he states adding that they are really counting on me to be a part of this project.

"Yes, we're supposed to do a documentary", I answer.

"What does your wife think about you being gone four or five months at sea?", he asks.

"Four or five months?", I exclaim.  "It's only supposed to take two to three months."

Zach breaks down the itinerary to me addressing the fact that it's hurricane season and there will be times of slow progress, not to mention the total distance of 6,500 nautical miles.  I start thinking about what Zach has said.

"If I didn't have children here, I would go in a heartbeat", Zach continues.  "It's an opportunity of a lifetime."

Zach (right) chatting with Ricardo and I on the "Elusive"