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.
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| 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.
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| 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.
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| 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.
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