I get off the train at Milford and can't find a pay phone anywhere, so I proceed to walk to the harbor which is only about two blocks. Milford, by the way, is a charming town with a colonial flair and very clean and pleasant. I walk about half a mile with my 40-pound backpack, pulling a 50-pound suitcase, and a 6 1/2-foot PVC tube with four ocean fishing rods in it; over 100 pounds of gear. Sweat freely pours off my face and my layered clothes are soaked. (I'm wearing layers to save luggage space and weight).
Not knowing quite where the Port Milford Marina is and wishing to find a phone, I stop at a marine supply store on the harbor to ask if there exists a public phone in this town.
"There used to be one, but they pulled all the phones outta here some time ago", replied an older gentleman behind the counter.
"Is it a local call?", he then asks.
I tell him that I have one local number I can call but I don't think he will answer, referring to Bruce, the manager at Port Milford. Another man working there who is much younger takes me to the back phone. I show him Bruce's number and he dials.
No answer. I ask them if they know Bruce at Port Milford. "Yes", they affirm.
"Go left at the road there, then go left again and follow the road around and along the harbor. You will see it there", the young man directs me.
The walk seems to take an eternity. Having not slept in over 24 hours, thirsty, hungry, soaked in sweat I trudge along through a quiet residential area for nearly a mile with more than 100 pounds of baggage. As I approach a marina I notice a double-masted boat with three flags - a pirate flag, American flag, and Brazilian flag.
"That must be it", I thank to myself.
A hundred yards later the Port Milford sign leads me into the marina lot and there is "the Elusive" in the yard propped up in dry dock.
"Ricardo", I yell at the man I see on board.
He turns, "Chad", he shouts back.
Alberto and Felipe then appear from the other side of the bow as they were working on a deflated Zodiac inflatable boat. Ricardo descends from the boat and I shake hands with each of them for the first time. It already feels as though I've known them for a long time. We've been in contact for a few months by both email and telephone.
Alberto comments that I've brought too much luggage.
On board Alberto shows me around. The boat is a mess. For one, it's still in dry dock. There are parts strewn about along with tools, nuts and bolts. Down below is even worse with all counter space and beds covered with parts requiring assembly, tools, and equipment. Some floor boards are broken underneath the refrigerator which also needs to be secured to the floor. Some of the wood surrounding windows has bad water damage. The boat just appears to be far from ready to sail.
On a positive note, the navigational electronics is quite impressive. He has radio, radar, GPS tracking system, fish finders, satellite phones, loran, laptops, and lots of cameras.
I shed my gear in a room in the stern of the boat and grunt my anger. First impressions of the is are very bad. It's not so much the unfinished condition of the boat as it is the fact that for the past two weeks Alberto has been pressuring me to hurry up and get here so we can set sail. He had told me that the boat is ready and all that's missing is me.
I spend the day with them and better assess the situation. The whole afternoon was spent buying and stocking food in the boat. Alberto purchased $400 worth of various canned and packaged foods at a dollar store, most of which I wouldn't even eat anyway because of it's poor nutritional value. Spam, ham, cookies, pastas, canned fruit in syrup, canned veggies, brownie mix, white and brown rice, top raman, granola, and many, many more items. He did purchase some oatmeal and canned fish but far too little for such a long voyage. He also purchased some 40 3-liters bottles of soda and only 10 gallons of water. At only one gallon per person per day, this supply would last a mere two and a half days.
Alberto had previously told me to bring foods that don't need refrigeration or cooking, hence I planned on purchasing lots of canned fish, nuts, oats, and dried fruit for my meals, which is basically how I eat every day anyway. He became passionately opposed to my proposal stating that it's not practical for a voyage at sea, nor properly balanced nutritionally. I told him also that I don't drink soda, however, he insisted that it is better to drink soda than plain water. He begins teaching me about nutrition telling me that he made the food decisions for the good of all the crew and it will be a collective food supply shared by all. He further reiterates that I have no idea what it's like being on the sea sweating in the sun all day, that the body burns carbs very fast.
Out of respect I listen to his sermon on nutrition but I'm sure he can see my disagreement in my countenance. If he could only know how hard I work and how simple and healthy I regularly eat, thriving on canned fish, oats, nuts, raw cocoa beans, fresh fruits and vegetables. All this I eat without cooking or refrigerating. I find these primitive eating habits to give me the highest level of energy and health. In summary, I can now see that I will be lacking water and protein on this voyage.
Based on my personal assessment of this project we won't be ready to sail for at least a few more weeks. And I can only imagine what the situation will be with the boat in Florida. Alberto says it will take about two days to get ready, just like this boat.
"Just like this boat?", I think to myself.
They've been working on this boat for months already and there is still a lot of details to complete. There is no question that Alberto has cash. I don't know how he does it but I can't afford to hang out working on the boat for a few weeks here and then a few weeks on the boat in Florida before finally heading out to sea. I have no choice but to withdraw from this expedition until they are truly ready to sail. I will have to decide how to tell him.
Yes, I am losing money and a lot of time but I've gained some valuable experience as well. In the days leading up to this I dealt with a lot of fear and self-doubt. I worked hard to prepare and conquered by fears as I proceeded forward with good intentions. Maybe it's a cultural difference. In this life I've had to adapt to a very high stress, high activity, fast-paced lifestyle. I don't like it but if I want to eat, that's what I have to do. The South American lifestyle is far more relaxed.
Last night while lying down on the deck gazing up at the stars I enjoyed the sensation of the cool ocean breeze and scent of the sea that fills the air. Spending a day on the boat made me realize how much I would really love to sail. I can definitely see myself cruising the Caribbean Sea.
So now it's nearly 10 am and I've wandered a quarter of a mile and sat down on a low concrete wall under a shady tree along the waters edge. Ten brown-colored geese have congregated next to me as we share the shady protection from the sun's harsh rays. I write my final notes before breaking the news to my shipmates.
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