Taking Chances
“You always go with dreamers,” my brother Garth said when I told him my new boyfriend Ed, a lieutenant in the Navy, planned to build a 57 foot gaff-rigged schooner. Garth wasn’t the only one to express doubt; Ed’s uncle said we wouldn’t even be able to afford the sails on a boat that size. They didn’t expect our tenacity. Four years and nine months later, we launched Satori with $25.00 left in our pocket.
In those building years, we were totally dedicated to our dream. Every penny we earned went into Satori’s creation. During her construction, we lived aboard in the boatyard, carrying in 5 gallon jugs of water and using a Porta-Potty for a head. We showered at family and friend’s houses. Ed bought our groceries at the commissary. Dinners out were at friend’s houses, or when my parents treated us on special occasions. If we couldn’t find something Navy surplus, we figured out how to make it ourselves. We formed sand candles and tie-dyed clothes to give as Christmas gifts rather than buying expensive presents. When we found a 100-year-old treadle sewing machine at a flea-market, I learned to sew by making our couch and sail covers. Those very expensive sails of Uncle Don’s concern were made affordable by our doing most of the floor work under the direction of the sail maker. Ed bought a stick welder and made the hardware for the masts and booms.
Our masts were 60 foot Douglas fir poles bought at the power company, which Ed sanded to the proper dimensions. Our yardarm came from a movie studio lot. Ed picked the brain of every boat builder, marine diesel mechanic, and marine electrician for miles around, learning how to build and install all the systems (using the K.I.S.S. method, or Keep It Simple, Stupid).
I finished my college degree in those first two years, then Ed left the Navy and I was the moneymaker for the next two. We married on the boat in the yard, and celebrated the event in my folk’s backyard. A money tree collected the checks of well-wishers. In the last nine months, I quit my day job and we worked side-by-side. Ken and Lisa joined that final push in exchange for room and board and the prospect of going sailing.
On our shakedown, we broke our rudder in a storm off the Channel Islands . Having survived, but fearful, I left the boat to stay with a friend and decide if I really wanted a life at sea. After 3 days ashore, I realized that the only thing that mattered was being with Ed. A life aboard the boat far surpassed the normal 8-5 grind that was the alternative. The four of us spent a year in San Diego , working part-time jobs and learning how to sail such a big rig. With her bowsprit, Satori was 75 feet long and held 1800 square feet of canvas.
We left California in December 1976, headed for the Caribbean . Our bilge bulged with 25 pound plastic containers of rice, flour, beans and popcorn. Under the dinette, we stored #10 cans of peanut butter, jelly, dried vegetables, and cheddar cheese powder. In addition, we’d bought what we assumed was a year’s supply of soup, vegetables, and meats at a bent can outlet. We trailed a fishing line daily. We were at sea for 70 days, becalmed over 2 weeks but unwilling to waste diesel to arrive in Panama any sooner. We transited the Canal, spent a month in the San Blas Islands, a week in Jamaica , a week in Puerto Rico , and finally arrived in paradise, St. Thomas U.S.V.I., in May of 1977. Ken and Lisa left for the states, and Ed and I stretched our remaining $200.00 kitty, until our first charter the following Thanksgiving,
We chartered for 14 years, taking our guests on “the best vacation they’ve ever had”! We learned early on to schedule a sanity week for ourselves after 3 weeks of charters: earning a living while enjoying life was more important than making a lot of money. Most captains and mates burned out after 2 years of back-to-back chartering during the winter season. In our summer seasons, we built a 3 bedroom villa, again doing all the construction ourselves and taking 4 years to complete. We even built the swimming pool and hot tub.
After 7 years in the islands, I convinced Ed to take a chance on my dream and have a child. He had been ambivalent, always saying, “In 5 years”. Lyric Serena Angelique was born a week after our 11th anniversary. She has been our greatest gift and joy, or, as Ed says, “The best decision we ever made.”
Hurricane Hugo’s 190 mph winds convinced us to try a new life experience. We put our boat and villa up for sale and moved to the mountains of Western North Carolina . We found 117 acres adjoining the Pisgah National Forest . We blindly risked everything in its purchase, but our luck held, and Eco Cove became ours. Appalachia is a hard place to make a living, but it was the perfect place to raise our seven-year-old daughter. Lyric was able to attend the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill after high school, graduating Phi Beta Kappa, summa cum laude in 2006, a quality education made affordable by being a resident of North Carolina. She now works as a policy analyst at Women for Women in Washington , D.C. , supporting women in war-torn areas with micro loans and education.
In our lifetime together we have discovered that if you are willing to take a chance, and if you believe in yourself, you can make your wildest dreams come true. Most people settle for what they know, or believe to be easiest or best, rather than risk an uncertain future. Life is too short to not experience it fully!
© 2010 Gabrielle M. Thompson
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