The Ocean Cruising Club is an association of offshore sailors to which I was introduced by Randall Reeves, a large figure in (very) long distance solo sailing. They have a minimum distance passage requirement for membership, which my solo race to Hawaii qualified me for. Of interest to this cash strapped aspiring solo circumavigator, they have a grant program. At Randall’s suggestion I applied, and became the recepient of a challenge grant, for which I am ever grateful. This purse of money was invested into a new spinnaker, a sail that was designed to help me build confidence in flying spinnakers on Changabang, and be our trade winds workhorse sail. If you’ve followed this blog from when we launched, you know it: half of this mission was accomplished! As we were just getting into the Southern Hemisphere trade winds I trusted a sailbag. And Neptune mischievously taught me my trust was misplaced. The sailbag was ripped off his hanging hanks, and the sail bode farewell to CaB, his oh so distraught skipper, and went on to err, a ghost in the waters of the Pacific. I will have to come clean to the Ocean Cruising Club’s grant committee, belabor a mea culpa, and retreat bowing, hoping for better days. Alright, enough drama, I suppose, but it’s all true.
This post was powered by a box of red vines. Yeah, a whole box, gulped in a flash.
