Darth Vader Lives in our Head

When you hear the words Darth Vader, what do you think of?  The wheezing, mechanical, sounds like he’s in scuba gear breathing, right?  That’s what I think of, anyway.  Now, what would you think if you heard that sound coming from the forward head?  OK, maybe now you understand the title.  This is a post about all of the noises on the boat that can drive you crazy as you are trying to sleep in some remote anchorage.  

We are all sensitive to novel sounds.  On a boat it is important to pay attention to any unusual sounds, which can be warning signs for problems.  And when it is a windy night in the anchorage, we tend to be even more alert.  

The Darth Vader breath, as it turns out, comes from the sink drain in the head (nautical for bathroom).  There is a hose from the drain that goes to a thru hull to drain overboard, right near or even below the water line.  When it is rocking in the anchorage, the bow of the boat pitches up and down and air gets sucked down the drain and then pumped back out, making a very distinct wheezing sound.  We have plugs that we put in the drain that prevents Darth from breathing, but if it is really rolly, they pop right out.  Our friend Ron from Duet asks incredulously “why don’t you just close the through hull valve?”.  Of course we could do that, but then we fill the sink when we wash our hands and have the potential for sloshing water around.  So it’s usually jam in the drain plug and close the door.  

The forward head sink on a rolly night.

Last year when we were coming down the coast we got very good at eliminating all sources of banging, whacking, knocking, and clunking as there is nothing like a Pacific Ocean passage to expose all areas with laxity.  Ask any boater and you will hear a long list of solutions for the bangs and rattles that can happen both underway and at anchor.  Just the other night our friend Penny revealed her ultimate weapon – blow up beach balls.  Easy to store when empty and can be inflated to just the right size.  We have a very large collection of nerf-like footballs and basketballs that Gwen searched around Brookings Oregon to find after our first multi-night noisy passage.  

The usual suspects are easy.  All cabinets and drawers latch, yet we are often lax with securing them properly.  The bang, bang, bang synchronous with the waves is easy to track down.  More problematic are those less frequent thumps that only happen when things really move in a certain direction.  Since we returned to Mexico and have been anchoring again, we have been experiencing one of those slow rolling thunks, usually when trying to take a nap during a storm because there is nothing else to do!  This one sounded like it was coming from directly over Gwen’s side of our berth (bed in nautical lingo) and was obviously driving her nuts.  This is a bit unusual as I am typically the one driven to distraction by these things.  She had searched on multiple days to find it, and her most recent supposition was that the muffler guys had left a piece in the muffler stack (which does go right through the area near the thunking sound).   

Last night she suddenly announced, “I found it!”  Jubilantly, she reported that the culprit was a tequila bottle that was leaning back and forth against other bottles in the liquor cabinet when the boat rolled at just the right angle.  When we are on passage, we wrap the liquor bottles with that rubber cabinet liner material, but when we are coastal cruising, it is of utmost importance to have unfettered access to the booze.  I think this problem will soon be solved by emptying the offending bottle.  

Our current checklist for a sound night’s sleep at anchor:  

  1.  A well-set anchor
  2. Bridle to take strain off the anchor has chafing protection to cut down on noise
  3. Burgees and flags are all restrained
  4. Horn pump is off – this has the nasty habit of repressurizing with a very loud pump at 1 in the morning
  5. VHF radios are OFF
  6. Doors are secured
  7. Bow of dingy is tied to back of boat securely but far enough away so it doesn’t bang the boat (or it’s stowed up top)
  8. New addition – cushion the liquor bottles

Boat Stamp

One thing we’ve learned during our travels in Mexico is that officials love their paperwork. Entering the country, we needed to complete a Temporary Import Permit for the boat, obtain Tourist Visas for all crew and formally check in to the country. This was not too much of a problem, and one of the aspects of cruising to Mexico that the CUBAR Rally made easier.

Once in Mexico, you actually need to check into and out of each port with the Port Captain, reporting your boat information, crew list, where you are coming from and where you are going next. So you have two pieces of paper for every port you visit. Often the marina will complete the paperwork and you go over to the port to get your paperwork stamped.

Well, after going through this a couple of times we decided that we wanted our own stamp. If every port captain is gonna make us fill out paperwork and stamp it, then we are too!!

A picture of the boat stamp on a piece of paper

Here it is. We were able to make it online (of course) and the biggest issue was getting the line art for the boat. With a little bit of searching I was able to find a method for converting a photo to something resembling a drawing (https://smallbusiness.chron.com/convert-photographs-line-drawings-gimp-46192.html) . I outlined the shape of the boat to eliminate the background and using a combination of effects, filters and conversion to black and white, I was able to get the image you see above.

The original image.

If you ever come aboard Miss Miranda, make sure you have your paperwork, and we’ll be sure to stamp it!!

Spanish Names

As we have been taking Spanish lessons and trying to communicate effectively with our Mexican hosts, we have realized that our names present something of a challenge for Spanish speakers.  So, for instance, instead of using Larry, I use my full name, Lawrence, but change it to the more spanish-sounding Lorenzo.  I try to always introduce myself to whomever we meet – taxi drivers, shopkeepers, etc, and “Soy Lorenzo” seems to work well.  In Mazatlan, I met a father and son team of Marine Service guys, named, aptly, Ruiz and Ruiz.  When I introduced myself as Lorenzo, Ruiz the younger immediately said “Lencho”, the shortened name for Lorenzo.  I kind of liked it… though Gwen was not entirely pleased.  She insists that it must be some kind of inside joke.

Mi nombre es Lencho…

Gwen has a very difficult name for Spanish speakers.  In fact, people everywhere seem to creatively mangle her name.  Even in the US, we regularly show up at restaurants looking for a reservation under her name, and wind up seeing “Glen”, “Owen”, or other odd takes.  So, having my own Spanish name, I thought Gwen would be well served by having one of her own.  She refused the standard contractions of her name, e.g., “Wendy”, and we eventually settled on Gabriela.  However, when we next met some people and introduced ourselves, I boldly said “Lencho” and Gwen…. choked.  She said “Gwen”.  She just couldn’t pull off the Gabriela thing.  The other morning when we were on the La Tovara Estuary tour, we introduced ourselves to our guide, who spoke some English.  When he heard Gwen, he immediately said “Cuando”, which is, of course, Spanish for “When”.  We had a good chuckle about that, but then I thought that this might be a good Spanish name for her.  We used it a couple of times the other day, and Spanish speakers who know a bit of English do get a kick out of it.  Gwen, not so much. 

Ella nombre es… Cuando?

Perhaps our faithful readers can help Gwen… what should her Spanish name be?