Return to Trinidad

After a flurry of last minute trips to gather up various parts, including our “must have” autopilot that was late in getting fixed, we finally made it out to SeaTac Airport on Aug 15^th for a 7:00 am departure to Houston. Again we had four large cardboard boxes stuffed to the brim with provisions and boat parts; I’m sure the gate agent thought we were off on a six-month expedition to the Amazon.

As we arrived at the gate we noticed the flight was running one hour late, which meant our connection in Houston to Trinidad would be super tight. With no control over anything, we just sat down and read our books. When we finally boarded we hoped the pilots would be able to make up time, but we arrived in Houston exactly an hour late. The connecting flight, naturally, was at the other end of the sprawling airport and we got to watch it pull out of the gate just as we arrived. Knowing that our boxes would have never connected, we accepted our fate and pulled out the computer to start looking for hotels.

A mini vacation at a hotel with a real bed and hot showers.

The rates went from “you’ve got to be kidding” to a great rate at the Hyatt Houston North, which turned out to be United’s crew hotel.  The hotel was fairly nice and we got our suits on and went down to the pool for the rest of the afternoon. Given the hectic nature of our Seattle trip, we treated this as a little mini vacation. At the restaurant that night I had one of the best corn chowders I’d ever had and we collapsed into a real bed and watched TV for the first time in months.

Naturally the Houston to Trinidad flight the next day was running an hour late, but we were in no rush to get back to a hot boat in humid Trinidad so we just went to the Red Carpet Club and gorged ourselves on cheese and crackers. The rest of the trip went well and we arrived in Trinidad around 8 pm. Getting our four large boxes from baggage to Customs was quite a balancing act with the trolley, but after a 30-minute delay they gave a us piece of paper and told us to report to Marine Customs at Chaguaramas.

Jesse James, our faithful cab driver, was there to meet us and off we went to Customs. Someone had told me the trick with Customs is to overwhelm them with paperwork, so when the agent asked me if I had any receipts I pulled out four one- gallon baggies packed with hundreds of receipts. He merely sighed and said OK. We were through Customs with no duty or fees to pay. What a huge relief given the value of the stuff we were bringing in.

The next day we hauled the four large boxes across the yard and used the outboard motor hoist to lift them the 15 ft. up onto the boat that was still on the hard. We were so proud of the space we had gained when we took the four large boxes off the boat when we left and now we were returning with an equal amount. You can’t win sometimes.

Friends

One of the joys of returning home is seeing your old friends. When you are sailboat cruising you develop very intense friendships, simply because of mutual interest, the sheer amount of unencumbered free time, the magical places you visit, and the mutual dependencies bred by the environment.

With old friends you share history, memories, and the opportunity to get caught up with each other's lives. Sometimes for cruisers it is difficult to get your old friends to truly understand what you are doing. We frequently are asked: "What about pirates?" "What about storms?" "Where do you get food?" With cruisers conversations frequently center around broken boat parts, heads that won't work, and where to find real whole milk. They say you can't go home, but we give it our best shot once a year.

We met our friends Randy and Monique at a wonderful Italian restaurant out in the boonies of Woodinville. Meryl and Monique used to fly together for Pan Am and share that elan vital that only former Pam Am flight attendants seem to have. Randy and Monique were about to depart on a 3,000 mile motorcycle ride from Seattle to Sturgess and then on to Milwaukee for a Harley Davidson rally. Monique rides her own Harley and graces a set of leathers like a Hollywood movie star.

Our next stop was and overnight visit with Jim and Mary Ann who live on Beaver Lake in Sammamish. Jim used to crew on Phoenix, my 26-foot Thunderbird sailboat and Jim and Mary Ann visited us on Flying Cloud when we were in the Exumas. We enjoyed sitting on their veranda overlooking the lake and talking about the good old times racing with the Thunderbird fleet. Jim and Mary Ann, along with their daughter Megan, took us on a tour of Beaver Lake in the 12-foot aluminum fishing boat. Great fun!

We also had the opportunity to have dinner with Paul and Irene, who also visited us on Flying Cloud while we were in Hope Town, The Abacos. We had a wonderful time exploring the environs of Hope Town, including Meryl taking Irene on her first kayak ride and me snorkeling with Paul. We spent the night sipping wine and laughing about all the fun times we've had together. I've always admired Paul's undying optimism and Irene's infectious laugh and endless stories about her extended family.

Our final get together was with a group of former Thunderbird sailors who are now known as "The Old Salts." The boats included Zephyr (Rod and MaryHelen), Nutter Butter (Don and Jan), Mahina (Larry and Ann), and Alio (Gary and Sheri). As always we relived old races and laughed at all the fun times we had together cruising. It was also wonderful to see Gary's wife, Sheri, who is making great progress recovering from a stroke she suffered one year ago.

And when we talk about friends, we can't leave out Jim and Chris, and Annie and Tryg, who are more like family than friends. They all have offered us their houses, their cars, and their hospitality over these past years. We are fortunate they have had a chance to visit us on Flying Cloud and we sincerely hope they will be back again for more visits.

Trip to Visit "Will the Wizard"

I have lived in Seattle for most of my life, but I still delight in riding the ferries across Puget Sound. The only negative is the horrendous traffic in Seattle, which seems to get worse every time we return. We decided to drive our car from Sammamish to Eastgate and park in the Park and Ride lot, then walk the short distance to I-5 and catch an express bus to downtown Seattle.  In less than 15 minutes we were walking down toward the ferry from downtown.

While we've ridden on public transport all over the world, we have rarely done it in Seattle. A young woman at the bus stop shared an iPhone app for the Metro bus system that showed your location and exactly when the bus would arrive. Pretty cool. I now also had my Senior Pass that lets me ride the bus for 75 cents. Such a deal.

Sailors like the wind in their face.

It was one of those rare crystal clear, hot summer days in Seattle and the waterfront smelled of salt and the sea. We were allowed on the ferry after the Washington State Patrol anti-terrorist police determined we were not Al Qaeda operatives. The ride was wonderful and brought back fond memories of our sailboat trips to Blake Island and Blakely Harbor on Bainbridge Island.



Our friends Patsy and Steve Larson met us at the ferry on the Bainbridge side and drove us to W-H Autopilots, just down the road. Our autopilot had some hiccups at times and we wanted the factory gurus to look it over. We met with Will Hamm, (the W and H in W-H Autopilots) who casually mentioned that just about every 20-year-old autopilot in the world seemed to have died that week, not a good sign for us getting a quick repair. He promised he'd do his best and as a boater himself, he truly understood the importance of things working correctly "out there."


We then drove out to Patsy and Steve's incredible new house on Port Madison bay. For Meryl and I, who have been living in a 440 square foot space for the last two years, Patsy's immaculate house with not a thing out of place was almost culture shock for us. They did a fantastic job of designing their dream house to be highly functional, but it was as much a piece of art as a dwelling.

We enjoyed a wonderful brunch out on the deck and shared stories about our kids and grandkids. It was hard to leave but Patsy had a busy work schedule that day and we appreciated the time she set aside for us.

Approaching Seattle on the ferry I remembered back to the 70s when Meryl and I first moved to Seattle. The skyline then was nothing like today. In someways I like the pre-Microsoft Seattle better. It was a kinder, gentler, more outdoorsy Seattle with less emphasis on how expensive a car you drive or how big your Mac-Mansion is. Being from Seattle meant something and I could always pick out Seattleites around the work when we traveled by their courtesy, politeness, slight reserve, and their REI fiber pile jackets.

We're Going to the Zoo; How about You?

One of the classic Sunday outings in Seattle is going to the Woodland Park Zoo. It's grown tremendously since Meryl and I went there when we were students at the University of Washington and often later with our kids Christa and Brad.

So, what's going through her mind?

We gathered up the clan and set off early on a Sunday morning. Quinn immediately wanted to see the bronze monkeys at the entrance and Brody spotted a tractor he had to drive.

Brody never met a tractor he didn't fall in love with.

There was a neat underground burrow of some type and we lost the kids in that as Brad prowled the top looking though holes in the roof. They should have called it "Be a Gopher for a Day."

You could just tell both the infants, Conner and Bennett, were just hankering to get out and run through all the neat stuff with their older siblings.

For the adults just keeping up with Quinn and Brody was a full day's work. My favorite part is where we got lost and Quinn took the map and walked off trying to figure out where we were.

What a great day with the family. Only wish we could be together more often.

 

"Boy, I wish I could read."

A girl on a mission.

Life at the Lake

While living in Hong Kong has it advantages, Christa does miss her many friends in the US. So every summer she has rented a house or houses in the US and uses them as base camps for visiting with friends and family.

This year she stayed in New York, Greenwich, Maine, Crested Butte, Seattle (Lake Sammamish) and Suncadia (in the mountains just outside of Seattle). We feel very blessed that Christa invites us to stay with her at various times to get reacquainted with the kids and her and Nash. For me it was great just to have time sitting around playing Grandpa to my incredible grand kids. Added to everything else was the fact that Seattle was enjoying one of the best summers on record. You can't beat Seattle when the weather is good.

Just chillin' with the grand kids.

The three loves of my life.

Conner gets some tummy time with Uncle Brad.

With Christa limited in her ability to do things, Meryl and I got double duty with the kids, which was great fun. Our son Brad and his family came down several times and soon everyone was in the hot tub (As a kid it was hard to ever get Brad out of the water, rather a hot tub, Lake Sammamish, or one of the local rivers.)

We alternated time between naps (the kids and us), kayaking trips down the lake, and long walks on the Lake Sammamish Trail that ran right behind the house. What a great way to spend a Seattle summer.

Like all cruisers, we did spend a lot of time tracking down sailboat parts, provisions, and going to various medical appointments during our time home.

I spent a lot of time talking with Don, the very friendly neighbor who owned the yellow lake house Christa was renting. One thing led to another and it turned out Don's dad had built a Thunderbird sailboat (the same type we owned for 20 years) in his garage. An even greater coincidence was that Don was childhood friends with an old sailing buddy of ours, Rod Johnson. Don brought over family photo albums showing his family and the Johnson's sharing Christmas holidays together. One very sad note, Don's wife had just been moved home from hospice and died the day we moved in, so it was a very difficult time for he and his family.

On a lighter note, one of my goals was getting my new grandson, Conner, to learn how to go down stairs. His dad, Nash, did a great job teaching him to go up, but going down was kind of crash and burn. Since the rental house had a nice spot with just three stairs, Conner and I worked and worked on his technique. He was great once he got going; the trick was teaching him to turn backwards before going down. He was very determined, however, and eventually got the hang of it. I loved the way he kept looking up at me as if to say "So how am I doing, Grandpa?"

Hope I still have an arm left when you are big enough to catch a football. Good times, little guy.

Conner's BBQ Bash at the Berry's

When we return home to Seattle we typically plan a BBQ at the Berry's home, which they so graciously offer each summer.  We like to get the family together once we arrive and invite a number of our friends. It's a good excuse to have a party and easier to see everyone without driving all over the city.

One reaction common to cruisers returning to the US is how overwhelmed I was as I went grocery shopping for the BBQ.  As I walked down the aisles of the massive Fred Meyer store in Sammamish I was reminded of the unbelievable variety of foods available in the US.  One whole aisle is devoted to chips and crackers alone!  It was difficult just buying some taco chips as they had way too many brands to choose from.  I was like a kid in a candy store wanting to buy everything. My shopping cart ended up with a few extra items not on the list that we hadn't been able to buy since we left Seattle.  It really struck me as odd at the same time ... do we really need to have every single possible item at our finger tips? Within an hour I had all I needed and was putting things away in the refrigerator at the Berry's house.  The same task would have taken at least a half the day out cruising and would have involved one or two small bags.

On BBQ day we were blessed with another beautiful summer afternoon and the Berry's lovely home was ready with lots of space for the kids to play and for everyone to relax and visit.  We fired up the grill and Jim & Chris cooked up some delicious mesquite chicken, and along with a couple salads, some garlic bread, watermelon, and cookies & cake for dessert, we had a feast.

Do American's realize how good they have it?

Good move Brody.

Conner and Quinn with their "Funcle" Brad.

Christa trying to keep Conner engaged and on the blanket.

Jim and Maryann chatting with Tryg.

It was wonderful to see friends we hadn't seen in ages and hear what they were up to.  The grand kids had birthdays coming up so there were a few gifts floating around.  The little ones all got new "Happy Hiker T-shirts" from the Berry's to continue the hiking tradition going back over 35years.  Quinn received a fairy tale book with a magical wand and was enchanted with the noise it made (not everyone else was after a hour of the twinkly noise).  I don't think those batteries will last long.  Also, thank you Lisa Van Kampen for the "sweet gifts" for all the ladies.

Quinn and the Princess lived happily ever after.

A great time was had by all.  The kids were a  continual source of  entertainment as they invented "fun things to do."  We just had to make sure they didn't get hurt or hurt one another… no small task!  Thank you again Berry's for sharing your home with us.  You are the greatest!

Flying to the Rescue of our Daughter

Meryl and I were sitting around our home away from home, Jim and Chris Berry's house in Sammamish, saying "You know Meryl, we just don't travel on airplanes enough." Just then an emergency email came saying our daughter was in a bit of a jam. A friend said Christa had taken a fall on her mountain bike in Colorado (did I ever say we raised a tomboy?) and had mangled her wrist.  She was in surgery but was due out in a couple of hours.  Given the fact she has a two-and-one-half-year-old and a 9-month-old and was scheduled to travel to Seattle the next day, we felt she may need a bit of help.

After a few telephone calls Meryl and I found ourselves back at SeaTac Airport ("weren't we just here?") hoping on a plane to Denver and connecting through to Gunnison. A friend of Christa's left his car at the airport and soon we were driving north through some of the most beautiful mountain scenery in the world.

Christa had rented a house at Crested Butte for a week of fun and sun with her high school friends and some friends from grad school. Unfortunately the grad school friends couldn't make it, but she still had her high school friends. Only problem was two of them were scheduled to fly out the day we arrived.

Meryl, Quinn, Conner, and Christa with the broken wing.

We arrived around 5 pm to find Christa laying on the front lawn playing with Quinn and Conner, except her wrist, which was fresh from surgery with six screws and a stainless steel plate, was propped up at a funny angle.  As you can imagine the next several hours were a blur as we helped her feed the kids, get packed up (no small task given the amount of luggage she travels with during her summer visits) for the trip back to Seattle, and get the house back in order. I'm always amazed at how well Christa can function no matter what the adversity in her life.

The next morning we all squished into two cars and drove to the airport in Gunnison. Now you might imagine a tiny Colorado airport would be considerate of a young mother with a broken wrist and two toddlers, but no. Christa got the security checkup of a lifetime. I swear if two Middle Eastern types with a package marked "bomb" walked up they would let them straight through ("we don't profile), but a mother with two young kids?  They tested her water, they tested her milk, they tested her sealed containers of baby food (they were 4.1 oz rather than the allowed 4 oz), and so on. They wiped down the stroller and car seat with bomb detection cloths. We almost missed our flight.

Notice the cute purple headphones?

The only issue when we boarded the flight (which Christa warned me about) was Quinn's proclivity for a window seat. Since I wanted to watch the mountains as we flew out, I thought she might let me sit in my assigned seat. Apparently not. To add insult to injury she played with her iPad the whole way home. Meryl was flying on a pass and couldn't get on the Seattle flight so I went ahead with Christa to help with the kids and luggage.

Once back in Seattle we reversed the whole process at SeaTac Airport (weren't we just here?). I was reprimanded by a traffic cop for the huge pile of luggage I had carefully positioned near the curb so we could make a quick exit. Apparently he considered it unattended luggage. I said I'm standing right here, but I have to watch two little kids (while waiting for Christa to arrive with the rental car). My rapidly deteriorating attitude was "If you want to move, move it yourself." A family nearby lent me their two teenage sons to move the bags back about six feet back in hope of avoiding an altercation. (Oh, it's moments like this that make me feel so glad to be back in the US.)

There's still more coming.

We finally made it down to Lake Sammamish where Christa had rented a small lake cottage for a week. We reversed the process of moving the 47 bags across the trail and down a flight of stairs to the cottage. It was a wonderful little house right on the lake with kayaks, sailboat, hot tub, and a walking trail in the backyard. Only problem is Christa couldn't do any of these activities because of her wrist. Bummer.

Cottage on Lake Sammamish just down the lake from where we lived when Christa was in high school.