Bow: The pointy end of the boat, usually located towards the front.
Stern: The end of the boat opposite the pointy end.
Screw See Prop.
Mainsail: Big triangle looking piece of cloth held up by the mast.
Mast: Tall pole that holds up the mainsail
Prop: See screw.
Jib: Small triangle piece of cloth located towards the pointy end.
Boom: Big, hard metal thing that hits you on the head.
Battens: Fiberglass rods that go inside the mainsail to help keep the shape.
Line: Rope.
Shore line: Rope that is lying on the beach.
Helm: Steering wheel.
Deck: What you walk on.
Poop deck: Where you go if the toilet is not working. Also see Bing
Landfall: That place where the land falls into the sea, usually at the edge.
Relative Bearing: Where something is relative to the boat (front 0, right 90 back 180)
Bing: Steve's Dog
Relative Bearing Grease Just A cheap joke!
Knot: Speed that is either faster or slower than miles per hour or kilometer per hour, only I can't remember just which at the moment.
Banca: Small Philippine out rigger boat
Next stop the Philippines! Only 587 miles to landfall! We were headed for the San Bernardino straits, which if you remember your history is where a great naval sea battle took place between, ah, the good guys and the bad guys. All I can remember is that the good guys boats managed to somehow cross the "T" of the bad guys boats which meant that the good guys could fire all their cannons all at once at the bad guys because their boats were facing broadside and the bad guys couldn't fire back as the were pointing their bows at the good guys boats and didn't have any cannons up there or something like that. Anyway the point is, that is where we were headed!
Once we got past the protection of the island we were in big rolling seas, now I never get sea sick, unless I'm on a boat! And sure enough I'm not feeling so good, but not so bad as not to be able to eat dinner, which was lasagna that Steve had made at the Palau Pacific Resort and then frozen so all we had to do was nuke it in the microwave. This stuff was really good so I made sure that not only did I have seconds, but thirds and fourths thrown in for good measure, the only problem was there was nothing to drink! Steve and John how gotten together and brought thirty or forty cases of beer and diet coke! I don't drink beer and I hate diet coke. Steve dug through piles and piles of caned food, and luckily down at the bottom of the pile was a bottle of apple juice. Here in Palau it's sometimes rather difficult obtaining the basic necessities of life such as food and drink, and what little we get all comes from one or two stores which means your choice of brand names are limited to one major brand and one called Western Family which is a brand of really low quality items that vaguely resemble the better brands. Needless to say this was not my first choice in apple juice, but I had no choice. Oh, well it least it was wet, sort of.
We sailed all that day under full sail and had even managed to hit twelve knots now and again. By the end of the day we decided that we would keep the mainsail up full for the night as the weather-looked good. We split up the night watches into three hours each, so I volunteered for the 10:00 PM to 1:00 AM. John called me at 10:00 PM and I got up and took about three steps and came to the sudden realization that I was going to be sicker than a dog. Now I'm not quite sure just where that expression comes from, but it's not exactly true, as there was in fact a dog on board with us. Steve had not only brought his dog "Bing" but also his bird "KO", a blue eyed Triton cockatoo, and he (the dog) and the bird were doing just fine. This was going to be a long three hours! I managed to prop myself up against the helm and didn't move a muscle for the next two hours, fifty nine minutes and fifty nine seconds, then I tapped on Steve's door and said "Steve it's your, Yuuuuuch!" Lasagna was flying all over the place, the helm, the deck, the boom, the dog, some of it even managed to make it over the side! Strange how something that tasted so delicious going down tastes so vile on the way back up! I didn't even try to make it back to my bunk but just passed out on the floor. Next morning the sun was out shining, the water was shimmering, dolphins were surfing on the waves at the bow and I didn't give a damn! When you're seasick the only relief is death!
From the helm I could hear Steve, “Oh, Shit, the mainsail torn!” During the night the wind had managed to rip a large gash in the bottom of the sail up to the first batten, it looked worse than it was at first sight. We managed to lower the sail and rig it so we could sail with the mainsail partially lowered. We lost a little speed but we weren't in a real big hurry.
By the third day I was feeling a little better as long as I didn't walk or eat anything. I had this sudden craving for a coke a cola, but all we had was diet! I suggested to the others that we should simply turn around and go back and get some, but this idea was rejected a little too vigorously I thought, with even rumors of someone walking the plank!
About three in the morning we are awaken by the cry, "Land Ho.. .Land Ho!" John and I ran, or rather John ran and I kind of crawled to the helm were Steve was looking though the binoculars and pointing to some lights and shouting. There, relative bearing 290" John grabbed the binoculars and said.
"Yea, I can see them too!"
"Give me those things." I said. Sure enough, they were lights all right, two white lights and one green light. "You stupid idiots, that's a ship, those are its running lights!" I handed the glasses back to Steve. "I can't believe it, you woke me up to see a god damn ship."
"Hey I'm sorry guys, it looked like land, what do you want me to say?"
"Nothing." As I crawled back to my bunk I whispered under my breath, "And I want a coke!"
The forth day was actually really nice, not that it was really any different from the other three, but I was almost but not quit entirely not seasick. While the rest of the fearless crew were doing what ever they did when the were not on watch, and I was amusing myself by trying to catch a few waves and surf down the face of the wave with the boat, which was fun for the first couple of hours than grew rather tiresome, when all of a sudden something caught my eye... yes, there it was again, way off on the horizon...it looks like…it looks like, LAND!
Only I was cool, I calmly called down to Steve to please come up as I had something to show him.
"Do you see that over there?" I inquired.
"Where?"
"Over there, that thing that looks like a freaking volcano!"
"Land Ho... .Land Ho!" Steve has definitely seen way to many old pirate movies. I may have to get him an eye patch and a wooden leg.
We sailed the rest of the day up through the Straits and came to a small fishing village and dropped anchor. In less time than it take to write this up comes a small Banca with three Filipino's in it, one was the owner of the boat, one was the mayor of the village, and the other was, as far I could tell, a concerned on-looker. The mayor spoke a little English and we were able interpret that being as no body ever stopped at his village the mayor wanted to make sure that we were properly greeted, plus he wanted to trade a couple of packs of local cigarettes for some American brands. I told him "Unfortunately none of us smoke, but perhaps we could give you a couple of beers for all you trouble of rowing all the way out here." I got one of those, "If looks could kill" from Steve and John, "But it seems that we are completely out of beer also." I could tell from the looks on their faces that they weren't going to return home empty handed. "We have, however a whole pan of lasagna for your dining pleasure." They weren't too thrilled at this offering as they hadn't a clue what it was, but when I told them that it was Meat they went crazy.
"What we do, eat frozen?" They inquired in unhesitating unison.
John goes into great detail of just how they should be sure to remove the aluminum foil and set the micro wave on defrost for ten minutes and then cut the lasagna into small slices and cook each slice for about two and one half minutes then serve with a fresh tossed garden salad and perhaps a chilled red wine. All the while the mayor was busy translating to the boat driver who was nodding his head in total agreement, and the concerned on looker was frowning and rubbing his hand on his chin and looking quite concerned. When John was finished they all looked up and said in complete unison,
"What we do. Eat frozen?"
We were getting low on ice so Steve asked the mayor if there was any ice in the village and to our surprise he answered that indeed there was a ice maker and that they would be glad to row all the way back and get us some. As they were staring to row away I asked if they had any coke and the concerned on looker looked up and smiled exposing ten out of his fourteen teeth and said.
"Yes, Family size!"
In less than one hour we had three blocks of ice and four family size bottles of coke! I drank the first one completely down in twenty seven seconds and carefully placed the other three so that they would receive the maximum amount of surface area from the three blocks of ice.
Later that evening we decided that since things were going pretty good that we would continue sailing on through the night. Which was a great idea until a few hours after sundown when all the fishing Banca's came out. There were literally thousands of them, and they stretched end-to-end clear across the horizon. It's quite fascinating to see how the fishing is done, as they had fishing nets deployed between small groups of two to four boats and they would work in tandem to catch anything and everything that moved. Any fish, crab or small furry mammal that happened to venture out that way had about as much chance of making it though as the Pope has of being circumcised! None of the Banca' had running lights, so it was nearly impossible to tell just how far away they were or which direction they were cruising. The only light they had was a single gas lantern that was shining so brightly that collectively from a distance it looked as if you were coming into a large city. It wasn't long before we were sailing right through the heart of them. Let me tell you, sailing through hundreds of unmarked Banca's in the middle of the night keep my attention span longer that my usual five to six minutes, but luckily we didn't run over any body, at least that I know of.
After four more days of sailing we arrived at Puerto Galleria. Which is a small village about five hours, by car, south east of Manila. Over the last few years it has been taken over by Europeans, mostly old Germans pedophiles who hang out on the beaches and take advantage of the cheap prices for sandals, T-shirts and 13-year-old girls. There's also a Yacht club that Steve promptly joined, so we too could hang out on the beaches and take advantage of the cheap prices for sandals, T-shirts and 13-year-old girls older sisters! In the middle of the town is a Catholic church, with a gigantic bell tower and an equally gigantic bell which they rang every morning about a hour before sunrise just to let every one know that the sun's about to come up, and then again each and every hour, or sometimes at random, just to see if you were paying attention and to reassure you that the bell still works. As I walk around town I couldn't help but notice that everybody was wearing a watch and appeared quite capable of telling time all by themselves, so I really don't know why they insist on ringing the damn thing.
You can catch a Banca and go around to the other side on the lagoon or take a jeepney (ornately decorated stretched jeep) up and over a large hill or very short mountain depending on your point of view, to the city of Sabang, which is the “Party Town.” This is how and where we lost John for two days! But on the third day John can back home, wagging his tail behind him, literally....
It was time for John and I to make our way back to Manila so we parted company with Steve and were about to get on board the bus to Manila, when this guy comes up and offers to take us by cab for slightly more than price of the bus, so we piled all our stuff into the back of the cab and off we went. Now, for those of you who have never driven a car in the Philippines, or entered a destruction derby, there are basically only two rules to follow. The first being: "There are no rules." And the second; "Rule number one is strictly enforced!" For example, say you are in the extreme right hand lane and you just have to make a left turn, right then and there, it is permissible to simply cut across any and all on coming traffic and completely block all the lanes while simultaneously blowing your horn with one hand and waving your other hand wildly in the air, until someone makes a mistake and lets you in. Our cab driver, bless his heart, had taken it upon himself for reasons only know by him and perhaps a few minor deities, to get us to Manila in record breaking time. I mean this guy was not stopping for anything. We were flying down the road so fast that frequently the rims on the wheels actually stayed airborne until they hit the opposite side of medium sized potholes! When we reached what was, by a long stretch of the imagination, a freeway the fun really began. There were suppose to be two lanes of traffic going in opposite direction divided by, what at one time may have been, a thin white or perhaps yellow line. As it was rush hour (That was an oxymoron) they were in fact four lanes going in one direction with an occasional brave car making its way up stream, not unlike salmon looking for a waterfall during mating season. About every mile or so the traffic would come to a complete stand still and most other drivers would simple get out of there respective vehicles and read a John Gresham novel or two while waiting. But not our man, no sir, he would put the pedal to the metal, pick up some speed, blast off the shoulder, and plow through community maintained farm lands. Poor half crazed wide eyed peasant farmers who thought they were relatively safe as they were sanding in the middle of vast stretches of farm land, would leap out of the way, uttering sounds that can best described as similar to water buffalo giving birth over a loud speaker.
At one point he tried to squeeze between six cars that were so close together that I doubt that even purely theoretical sub atomic particles could have passed by without touching! Despite our divers best suicidal efforts we arrive in Manila with out any major injuries. In record time I might add, and managed to find a cheap hotel to spend the night. Later that evening John and I ventured out looking for a place to eat. One thing that we can't get, or rather, one of many things that we can't get in Palau is a coke that the expiration date isn't past by three or four months, or a good steak, so we elective to find a good stake house. After only walking for a mile or two we happen upon a place called “The Hobbit,” which was named after the books by J.R. Tolkin, you know, the ones about rings, lords and little people. We walked in to find that the entire staff who worked at the place were dwarfs! I mean there's not one person over three feet tall. Now here's an excellent idea that just wouldn't make it in the States. They had some guy sitting up on the stage with a guitar singing old American folk songs, which proved to be a little too much for us, that and they wanted to charge us a cover charge for live entertainment. So we walked on down the line, till we came to a real steakhouse that served real manly steaks and Cokes in bottles that weren't expecting to violate their expiration dates until sometime shortly after the turn of the century.
It was time, for me at least, to bid farewell to Manila, so I inhaled a large lung full of smog and yelled as loud as I could over the deafening sound of traffic.
"Manila, I bid you a fond farewell!" Only I don't think anyone heard me.
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