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The owner of the rental company whose center-console was recently stolen and taken to Cuba has recovered his boat in the most ironic way possible. Jayme Nabors, a wheeler-dealer from the Florida Panhandle, mounted his own unauthorized trip to Havana with a boatload of buddies and then, with a little help from the U.S. Coast Guard, managed to convince Communist functionaries to free his little lost Panga panga. A panga is the ubiquitous Mexican workboat design, and Panga is a U.S. manufacturer that builds pangas for the American recreational market, including some center-console models. That includes the 26-footer rented for use in the Florida Keys and then taken to Cuba by Floyd Dean Devasier, 63, of Katy, Texas. The panga’s tracker showed the boat was en route to Havana right up until it went beyond cellphone range.
Using advanced law enforcement technology known as the telephone, U.S. Coast Guard officials notified Cuban Border Guards, with whom they have a longstanding working relationship, that Devasier was heading their way. The Cubans were waiting when he arrived. Shortly thereafter the dude was on a plane heading back to Florida where he was taken into custody by another set of cops and charged. Meanwhile, Nabors wanted his $70,000 boat back and had no idea how to make that happen, and, frankly, no one to ask, because no one had ever done something like that, or, if they had, they kept it to themselves. The elephant in the room—because this is GOP-driven policy—is the fact that American citizens cannot take their American boats to Cuba legally. According to Cuba expert William LeoGrande, the “Embargo” against Cuba is “the oldest and most comprehensive U.S. economic sanctions regime against any country in the world.” President Obama relaxed regulations enough in 2014 to allow American boaters (and cruise ships from American ports) to visit Cuba as long as everyone pretended they were there for some purpose other than tourism. In his first term, Trump turned the clock back on this policy, and President Biden never got around to reversing the reversal of the reversal. However, there is a process by which a U.S. boater can take a boat to Cuba. The trip must be approved by the Treasury, Commerce and State departments, capped off by receipt of Coast Guard form 3300 “permit to enter Cuban territorial waters.” Oh, and by the way, your applications will all be denied, per the U.S. President. Nabors conferred. He talked to the Coast Guard and other Homeland Security officials. He talked to the Sheriff’s Office in the Keys. He said he filled out all the forms and submitted all the necessary applications. And, then, Nabors waited patiently for answers from U.S. officialdom. No, he didn’t. Nabors gathered together seven business friends, partners, employees and adventurous spirits at his marina in Key West—he owns three Florida marinas—and got ready to thunder on down to Havana. A Cuban emigree from Tampa, whom nobody knew, showed up and managed to insinuate himself into this pack of Southern dudes and a gal.
There were nine of them. They brought extra gasoline in case the Panga was on “e.” They brought spare parts and the tools to install them. If the Merc outboard wouldn’t go, they had the gear for a tow. Nabors confessed to some wishful thinking. “We were under the impression we could come and grab the boat without ever going through Cuban Customs,” he said. By the time the gang was ready to go, Nabors said he believed U.S. officialdom knew what they were up to, and they never tried to call a halt to it. “Everybody on our side knew exactly what we were doing and when we were going to leave,” he said. On July 22, the Mighty Nine boarded an Invicible 36 and slipped out of Key West and across the Florida Straits to execute “Operation Beach Weekend,” Beach Weekend being the name of Nabor’s marina business. Here, it should be mentioned that there is a YouTube video about the trip, and one of two podcasts on the subject has also been released. The podcast is called Nicotine & Jetfuel with Nabors and Brett Divine. Nabors felt that his marinas and his other “lifestyle brands” could get a boost from the exposure. The YouTube video captures the dual nature of the three-day expedition. Most of the video strings together moments of party behavior and one-liners by the guys. There are aso scenes showing the crew waiting around—in one, waiting on the boat for hours for word from Cuban officials, looking frazzled and, perhaps, needing a toilet.
The U.S. Coast Guard attache at the American Embassy in Havana was vacationing with his family in North Carolina. This officer, who would be a commander or lieutenant commander, flew back to Havana to assist in getting the boat released. Nabors said he brought as much documentation as he thought necessary to free the panga, but the Cubans had demanded more. Coordinating with support staff back in the states, Nabors got the additional paperwork sent to the embassy itself, where staff ensured it was all properly certified.
Two days after their voyage had begun, but not until after more hours of paperwork inspection and searches of both boats, Cuban authorities released the panga to Nabor and his crew. “State sponsor of terrorism” aside, those Communists had showed zero tolerance for ordinary criminal behavior. Nabor seemed impressed that no one had hit him up for a payoff. Had American officials really given tacit approval to Nabor’s apparently unlawful recovery operation? He thinks so. “We went for it, and, thank the Lord, it worked out,” Nabors said. LOOSE CANNON covers hard news, technical issues and nautical history. Every so often he tries to be funny. Subscribe for free to support the work. If you’ve been reading for a while—and you like it—consider upgrading to paid.
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© 2025
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Cruisers Net publishes Loose Cannon articles with Captain Swanson’s permission in hopes that mariners with salt water in their veins will subscribe. $7 a month or $56 for the year, and you may cancel at any time.
When all else fails, try journalism.
As the editor of Ocean Navigator, which was always one of boating magazines worth reading, Timothy Queeney had a pretty good run. He left the magazine after it was sold in 2021 (and was shut down permanently earlier this year). Loose Cannon recently spoke to Queeney about his reinvention as an author with a first-book about to go on sale. Loose Cannon: Tim, Bravo on ROPE! In hindsight such an obvious topic. What made you decide to write this book? Tim Queeney: The inspiration to write ROPE came from… a rope. We always had sailboats when I was growing up and so there was plenty of line around my parents’ house. After my dad died some years ago, my mom suggested I take the milk crates of boat rope home with me to Maine. Over the next few years I used pieces of that rope for various tasks ashore and afloat. One day I grabbed a line from the crate for some purpose but it was knotted in an awkward place. I was about to loosen the knot when I stopped and realized that my dad’s fingers had tied it. It was a physical sign of him still here in the world. I hung that line, knot intact, on the wall and began to think about rope in a way I hadn’t before. After rooting around online I found no one had written a book about rope and its significance in human history. That seemed like a missing piece so I thought I might tell that story. L.C.: Two things: I’m surprised that some 18th century dude like Benjamin Franklin hadn’t already done his own version. And second, I can’t think of another topic that would be equivalent in its breadth and early origins. A History of Pointy Things, maybe? Is there any other book out there comparable to ROPE, old or new? Queeney: Yeah, Ben was pretty wide ranging in his interests but he apparently didn’t get around to rope. I would think a history of the wheel or something along those lines. L.C.: Ha! I just imagined the caveman riding a stone wheel from one of those old Johnny Hart comics. I marveled at the figures for rope on Age of Sail ships—miles of lines—and the many other eye-opening details. Once you had decided to do the book, did you really have to dig or were the details in plain sight just waiting for an author?
Queeney: There was plenty of great material easily available. Much of the book that discusses the use of rope on sailing vessels, for example, is well known to anyone with an interest in maritime history. But for readers who aren’t so well versed, I attempted to keep that material as simple and accessible as possible. And I certainly discovered some aspects I was not familiar with. That’s a fun part of research, stumbling across things you hadn’t considered before. I also did some deep digging, which is also a little addictive for research heads like me. One thing leads to another and you realize you’ve gone many layers deep—and maybe a bit off track as well! I also did 33 interviews with various experts. Those were always illuminating and enjoyable and invariably led me to new aspects of the subject. As you know from your journalism experience, so often in an interview it’s when you’re chatting after the interview is “over” that some of the most interesting items emerge. L.C.: Could you address the concept of “rope” in the English language? The presence of so much cordage in our daily speech is surely an indicator of its importance as a technology. Queeney: The English word rope has a derivation that goes far back into ancient languages. It comes from the Middle English rop, from the Old English word rap. And that comes from the Germanic tree as the Proto-West Germanic raip, which, in turn, arises from the Proto-Germanic raipaz or raipa. Pushing even further back into Proto-Indo-European (which is a bit of linguists’ reconstruction as there is no direct record of Proto-Indo-European, but we’ll take their word for it!) we get roypnos. As for rope’s cultural significance, there are plenty of common sayings that point to how central rope has been to daily life: roped me in, rope it off, tied in knots, rope-a-dope, roped and branded, give him/her enough rope, at the end of my rope, throw me a rope, give me some slack, on the ropes, etc. L.C.: What is the thing you learned that surprised you the most? Queeney: There were plenty of revelations when it came time to look into the subject in detail. I was surprised that rope-making technology had progressed so far so early. The Cheops solar boat was found in a pit alongside the Great Pyramid in the 1950s. Along with the pieces of the deconstructed boat were coils of three-strand line that looked like it had been manufactured recently, but in fact was 4,500 years old! L.C.: If they’d found coils of dyneema, I suppose it would be proof that aliens built the pyramids. Hey, do you remember when we talked before this interview that my mother used to say “Go run up a rope” as a substitute for “Go eff yourself?” Your end-book scenario about hoisting payloads into space using a rigid graphene matrix instead of rockets would actually make running up a rope possible. What next for the former magazine editor turned author? Queeney: Next for me is, unsurprisingly, another book. I have a series of nonfiction book ideas lined up and am working on the next one. As a committed fan of ink and paper (and I guess electrons too when it comes to the ebook version), I will keep plugging away in the book world as long as they’ll have me.
Coming soon: An excerpt from ROPE tells the tale of the USS Constitution’s slow speed kedging escape from a pursuing British fleet. LOOSE CANNON covers hard news, technical issues and nautical history. Every so often he tries to be funny. Subscribe for free to support the work. If you’ve been reading for a while—and you like it—consider upgrading to paid.
You’re currently a free subscriber to LOOSE CANNON. For the full experience, upgrade your subscription.
© 2025
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SPARRING WITH MOTHER NATURE is a diary of the challenges of doing just that combined with the life-changing decision to save a complicated piece of wooden maritime history. We’ve come a long way with a ways to go… Your support is essential. Thank you. J
If you’ve just joined our engaging little community, please read SPARS & SPARRING, my introductory piece.…. ~J Eight years ago I found myself in bed wearing only a soft, striped, stolen hospital gown. I wore that garment, just barely and very carefully, for a full week after discharge. My writing journey began as I healed when, unexpectedly, a story flowed from fingers to keyboard.
A friend of mine, who has been known to unknowingly impersonate my mother, read the draft, made a lot (not alot) of corrections, and told me, “YOU ARE A WRITER” at a point in my life when I was bottling a (delicious, defunct) spice blend. That first-ever story is my story, and, even though it is a remarkably personal one, I documented it in black and white because I had no idea how the choices I had made would feel on a multitude of levels. I also hadn’t delved into what being a writer meant or understand how you have to follow your heart because the pay is, well, awful; I thought that if I wrote something worthwhile it would be discovered and sell. That is simply not the case, but there are other rewards. Consider for a moment the distance that people wait to bridge, uncomfortably sometimes, before we greet another person. If you didn’t wait you’d have to raise your voice a little, perhaps introducing misinterpretation, so instead we wait, hesitating, smiling a little, glancing this way, glancing that way, awaiting the appropriate interval. It’s a dance, of sorts. Last week, I was SPARRING with a steaming STEADFAST project at the boatyard when I spotted my landlord walking toward me. On this particular afternoon he and I were further apart than the aforementioned social distance (which admittedly varies due to an assortment of factors) and he didn’t wait. “My mother loved your book,” he said, meeting my eyes. I absorbed these rare, author-thrilling words and asked silently, eyebrows raised, ‘which book?’ The many connections between us flooded back, grabbed my attention, and sent my heart racing; I don’t know his mom, but understood that she was diagnosed with breast cancer, something that is all-too-familiar to me. Only a select few people here know the subject of my first memoir, the intimate details and decisions I made out of pure, unadulterated terror and how that all worked out. With the exception of my self-affirming writer’s group, this community has not been brought into the fold. Double mastectomies don’t come up in polite where-are-you-from chats and rarely even after that, when we delve deeper. His Mom’s surgery was deemed successful and then the doctors changed their minds and ordered further treatment, a tough surprise for all involved. I’m certain she wanted to be done. Now they’re testing for the ominous gene that my brother and I carry, BRCA2, which, in my case, indicates an 87% chance of breast cancer; it’s not something we want as baggage; it’s not something anyone wants. My Mom was diagnosed not long after metastatic breast cancer took her older sister’s life. Her surgeon performed a simple lumpectomy, failed to obtain a clean border, went back and took the entire breast. She didn’t require additional treatments, just a check-up every six months. And then, five years later, one of those showed another of Mother Nature’s nastiest creations, a separate primary cancer, Peritoneal, that took her life just twenty days after diagnosis. Her brother, too, my uncle, also succumbed to breast cancer. We photographed her petite body before her battle, as I would do, two decades later, while I was still intact; celebrating our original parts before they were forever modified by scalpels and fear. Subtitle: One woman’s drastic measures, grim choices to fight cancer before a diagnosis.
Title: The New Girls, as that is what I call my intramuscular, manufactured, silicone breasts. They’re not perfect, but for me, far, far better than the risk. They will never really feel like they belong, although I’ve saved some bank on the uncomfortable restraint devices that US society mandates. Even when it was ‘inappropriate’ and mine jiggled like the fleshy mammaries they were, I tended to disregard that norm on occasion; I know you’re not surprised. And now, they most certainly don’t jiggle. Similarly jangly memories and sensations flashed through my mind as the man and his beautiful young family continued their evening stroll. This quick conversation served the purpose that it should have. I realized, once again, that I have little to complain about. “There’s something there,” another breast cancer survivor disclosed just days ago, referring to her solo unscarred appendage. “They just don’t know what it is.” I could feel her dread, visualize the bracing of oneself against such a diagnosis and all that may come next. SPARRING WITH MOTHER NATURE, indeed. I was maintaining my distance here on Substack, and now, I’ve let you in…Everybody Has a Story is the name of my website, because we do. It could be “Everybody Has A Cancer Story,” because it seems like that’s true, too. If you can relate, just click that little heart and appreciate the strengths in all of us. I don’t know anyone else who made the preventive choice I made, I only know the strong women who, facing the same conundrum, asked me for council and found it through FORCE Facing Our Risk Of Cancer, Empowered, where I counseled peers, listened to their stories, and told my own. Care to share yours? Sometimes there’s joy in that, too. ~J Thanks for being here. Really. Stay. Share SPARRING WITH MOTHER NATURE If you or anyone you know wants more information about genetic predispositions click this FORCE link. Knowledge can be power so please share this! Breast Cancer and it’s agents have afflicted too many of those we love. *** My Mac decided to turn off it’s microphone so no voiceover today, but my not-too-techy self will figure it out by next week, promise. ***
I so appreciate your support of my work. Have a wonderful week!
© 2025 Janice Anne Wheeler
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July 31, 2025
NEWS from BoatUS
Boat Owners Association of The United States
5323 Port Royal Rd, Springfield, VA 22151
BoatUS News Room at
FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE
Press Contact: D. Scott Croft, Vice President Public Affairs, 703-461-2864,
SPRINGFIELD, Va, July 31, 2025 – In a first-of-its-kind effort across six states and two unincorporated territories, dozens of coastal communities will see a significant investment in removing more than 300 abandoned and derelict vessels (ADVs) from their local waters. With four-year project funding from the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA) Marine Debris Program, administered through the BoatUS Foundation for Boating Safety and Clean Water, the ADV grants will fund removal and education efforts in communities heavily impacted by ADVs and the navigation, safety and pollution hazards they pose.
The projects were selected by a panel of independent salvage experts, state boating advocates, nonprofit research organization and planning agency staff under a program created by the nonprofit BoatUS Foundation with NOAA funding to remove abandoned and damaged boats from our nation’s coasts and the Great Lakes.
Work on the ADV removal projects is expected to mobilize salvage crews across each of the announced grant areas later this year as local environmental reviews are completed. Both recreational and commercial ADVs are targeted for removal.
The awarded states, communities, organizations and programs include:
“This is the first coordinated ADV removal effort across the country and across time zones to address the issue head on,” said BoatUS Foundation Director of Outreach Alanna Keating. “It follows years of good work by NOAA as well as dedicated partners in removal efforts to rid our waters of these hazards. However, there’s never been an effort before at this scale, and we’re proud of making it happen for the boating public and affected communities.”
The ADV removal effort also includes creation of a first-of-its-kind national database to pinpoint locations of ADVs and track their removal. NOAA grant funds also document ADV prevention and removal activities to share with the public and support a national dialogue and education efforts on boating-related debris disposal. This includes the 2nd Annual “Turning the Tide” summit scheduled for December 2026 in New Orleans, which will offer attendees a range of resources, enlightening panels and keynote addresses focusing on ADVs and marine waste streams.
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BoatUS Foundation and NOAA partnership to fund the removal of 300+ abandoned derelict vessels in 6 states and 2 territories http://bit.ly/4lQUvBm #noaa #cleanwater #cleanwaterways #abandonedderelictvessel #marinedebris #boatusfoundation #ADV
ABOUT:
BoatUS Foundation is leading a nationally competitive grant program for the removal of abandoned and derelict vessels throughout coastal and marine areas of the United States, including the Great Lakes, U.S. territories, and Freely Associated States. This project is supported by the NOAA Marine Debris Program. In an effort to help educate and prevent future ADVs, the Foundation will also create a national ADV database to track the scope of the challenge and measure success, document ADV prevention and removal activities to share with the public, and support a national dialogue and education efforts on boating-related debris disposal. Learn more about the Marine Debris Program by visiting marinedebris.noaa.gov.
Cruisers Net publishes Loose Cannon articles with Captain Swanson’s permission in hopes that mariners with salt water in their veins will subscribe. $7 a month or $56 for the year, and you may cancel at any time.
When all else fails, try journalism. Kid Left at Helm Runs Charter Boat Onto Reef for a Total LossOwner Sues Boy Scouts and Others After Pearson 424 Is Wrecked
Libbie Oliver wants compensation. The British Virgin Island businesswoman was chartering her Pearson 424 to the Boy Scouts of America until July 2023 when a scout ran Amokura onto a prominent reef. The boat would become a total loss. According to Oliver’s lawsuit, the boat’s captain was “performing other duties” when her boat crashed onto Johnson’s Reef in the Virgin Islands National Park with a scout at the helm. Oliver filed suit last week in U.S. Virgin Islands Superior Court. Besides the Boy Scouts, defendants are the boat’s captain, Timothy Frances Sales of Pennsylvania; insurance broker Offshore Risk Management, and “John Does 1-10.” Sales should not have left the kid at the wheel, or as Oliver’s lawyers wrote:
Amokura struck Johnson’s Reef, a dangerous patch of coral north of Trunk Bay on the northern side of St. John island, ringed with hazard bouys.
The language of the lawsuit suggests that the boat could have been saved:
Through her lawyers, Oliver argued that she had only learned that her policy excluded “two of the most foreseeable risks associated with the charter” after the wreck had happened. If she had known beforehand, she would have “procured alternative coverage that included such risks.” Oliver, who operates an organic coffee company in Tortola, is asking the judge to make the defedants pay for the loss of the boat, salvage costs and lost income from her charter deal with the Scouts. Amokura was part of the Boy Scouts Sea Base program, carrying six to eight scouts at a time over 11 weeks of charters, each at a weekly rate of approximately $3,500.
LOOSE CANNON covers hard news, technical issues and nautical history. Every so often he tries to be funny. Subscribe for free to support the work. If you’ve been reading for a while—and you like it—consider upgrading to paid.
You’re currently a free subscriber to LOOSE CANNON. For the full experience, upgrade your subscription.
© 2025
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Cruisers Net publishes Loose Cannon articles with Captain Swanson’s permission in hopes that mariners with salt water in their veins will subscribe. $7 a month or $56 for the year, and you may cancel at any time.
When all else fails, try journalism. Unfouling Props in Rough Seas Is a Perilous Undertaking. I’ve Seen It DoneNordhavn Atlantic Crossing Case Has Some Parallels to Another Trawler’s Plight in the Pacific
Bulletin:Just as this story was about to be released on March 12, 2023, Loose Cannon learned that the owner had recovered the lost yacht VivieRae II. According to information originating from the Nordhavn Dreamers forum, the Nordhavn 96 was underway again. One prop had been fouled by the stray tender towline, as expected. Unexpectedly, the other prop was found wrapped in a fishing net. The yacht’s tender was sighted by the Australian Coast Guard 230 nautical miles away. A boat was underway to recover her too.
The situation bore similarities to the way VivieRae II was disabled in open ocean north of Australia last week. A big Nordhavn (for her time) lost main propulsion crossing the Atlantic as part of a company-sponsored rally across the Atlantic Ocean. Both boats had stalled because of lines wrapped around their props. The VivieRae II story was attracted more than 11,000 readers over the weekend, and some of them (writing on Facebook) blithely suggested that instead of calling the Australian Navy for rescue, a member of the crew should have gone over the side with a sharp knife gripped between his teeth. The following observations were from the 2003 Nordhavn Atlantic Rally. I was on board the Nordhavn command vessel, Atlantic Escort, during a 1,800-mile leg from Bermuda to the Azores. Escort was sheepherding 17 other vessels across to the Med—mostly Nordhavns. I was in the pilothouse when the decision was made to put divers in the water, and it was a damn serious moment and just as scary to witness the plan unfold. I can’t compare conditions to those facing the crew of VivieRae II because I wasn’t there, but I would describe the seas in the Atlantic that day as moderately rough.
At the time, I estimated the swells were nine-footers, and they were spaced close enough to make us uncomfortable, despite active stabilizers. When we arrived at the boat with the prop wrap, a Nordhavn 62 named Autumn Wind, she was chugging along at 4.5 knots using her auxiliary or get-home engine. The Azores were about a half day away. Even so, rally boss Jim Leishman acceeded to a proposition from two of his guys who were pleading to be allowed to swim over and get beneath 77 tons of heaving, pitching, rolling fiberglass and machinery. The stakes were high, not only for the divers involved, but for the company’s reputation; PAE had undertaken the rally as a marketing demonstration. Leishman is vice-president of PAE, builder of the Nordhavn line. One of the divers was Leishman’s son James. The other was Justin Zumwalt, grandson of the famed admiral who directed U.S. naval operations during the Vietnam War. Jim Leishman instructed Autumn Wind’s crew to keep the vessel into the seas, using only the bow-thruster to hold her in place. Our guys donned wetsuits and dove off Escort’s swim platform. There was no levity during the operation.
After the pair was able to ascertain that the culprit was a ½-inch line wrapped several times around the prop, James Leishman timed his move. He waited for a period of relative stability to avoid being whacked on the head by the hull, then dove under the stern with a knife in his hand. He made three cuts before coming back up again. At this point Jim Leishman asked that Autumn Wind restart her main engine, and, contrary to all conventional wisdom, instructed the crew to give her a blast of reverse. When they shifted into forward gear, the mean vibration that had been caused by the line was gone. Reversing the prop apparently finished the job that James had started with his knife. Autumn Wind had her legs back. We arrived at Horta before the sun had set. Having witnessed the events of 2003 I can understand why VivieRae’s captain apparently refrained from a similar effort. The tow rope fouling his props was probably more than an inch in diameter, maybe inch-and-a-half. And there were two props fouled, not just one. And there was no escort vessel standing by to assist. The question I have—and one that was shared by other thoughtful mariners with whom I’ve spoken— was this: Why not spool out some anchor rode, creating an ad-hoc sea anchor, and just hunker down? Sooner or later, seas would subside, and someone could make that dive with a hacksaw. Stand by. Maybe we’ll get an answer.
LOOSE CANNON covers hard news, technical issues and nautical history. Every so often he tries to be funny. Subscribe for free to support the work. If you’ve been reading for a while—and you like it—consider upgrading to paid.
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SPARRING WITH MOTHER NATURE is a diary of the challenges of doing just that combined with the life-changing decision to save a complicated piece of wooden maritime history. We’ve come a long way with a ways to go… Your support is essential. Thank you. J
If you’ve just joined our engaging little community, please read SPARS & SPARRING, my introductory piece.…. ~J One year ago tomorrow the very accommodating pros at Yacht Maintenance Company in Cambridge, Maryland, USA, hauled STEADFAST out of the water for an estimated three-month repair. Fortunately, they tucked us in an out-of-the-way corner near the Richardson Maritime Museum; some folks think she is on display. Ah, THE BEST LAID PLANS. I’ve already written that; they go awry. In case you want a refresh: it’s a good story. And perhaps pertinent.
We’re not doing what’s ‘best’ for us financially, physically, or practically, but we’re doing what we’re passionate about. We have, out of necessity, settled in, made a lot of sawdust and some great friends. I joined the intriguing and talented Choptank Writer’s Group, found a wonderful yoga class and race on Wednesday nights down at the Yacht Club. Settled, though? Yes, but not completely by choice. I am honored to tell you that one of my many interesting, far-flung readers sought me out on Thursday; he was crew on a vessel headed north and made sure they stopped on the rather out-of-the-way Eastern Shore of the Chesapeake Bay. Our intimidating ladder didn’t phase and he peered down the main hatch at my freshly repainted disarray and called my whole name, something only my father used to do. I was thrilled. We had exchanged so many written words that compatability was immediate. “What do you think?” I asked him, gesturing expansively. He raised his lively eyebrows and peered at me, making sure I was interested in the truth. I am always a fan of honesty and smiled at him; knowing what he wanted to say. The energetic, experienced, pirate-type now living in Key West, chose to tactfully redirect and stated that he had worked on plenty of steel vessels but never on wood; his lack of eye contact was hard to control, though, as he took in our complicated construction scene. When he finally looked back at me we both laughed. I was the one who said it out loud. “I know we’re batshit crazy. Everybody knows.”My visitor circumnavigated our planet on research vessels and others as captain, engineer and mate. I’m sure I’ve only just begun to hear the tales he has to tell. Over beer, I met his British friend and discovered the people and passages we knew in common from the Caribbean to the UK. He’s logged tens of thousands of remote, beautiful and dangerous miles; anyone who has chosen to spend that much time on the sea is a little (or batshit) crazy, pretty damn salty and remarkably self-sufficient. Thank you, Bob Wallace. You normalized my life, if only in my eyes. That same evening I sat in my slightly unstable Adirondack rocking chair and contemplated our expansive bottom. It’s big, intimidating and pretty solid but it’s not nearly as sleek and lovely as her new, still-exposed, smooth bow. Forty years soaking in salt water will do that to you.
This photo is the port side, taken almost level with her transom or stern. Now that we have a beautiful reconstructed bow, we have to pull the rest of the picture together, reconnecting the old with the new in a seamless way even though, as you have learned, the seams of a wooden vessel are quite a challenging component. In the photo, low center, you can see the cutout where we are investigating the keel to ensure that it’s as strong as it needs to be. The colors depict an assortment of barrier coats, bottom paint and time. During STEADFAST’s refit (then SIXPENCE) in the 1980s she was sheathed, below the waterline, with a protective material similar to flexible fiberglass. There are as many opinions on such coatings as their are boat aficionados, so we’re not going into pros and cons, just contemplating the life span. If you’re thinking that’s foreshadowing, well, your instincts may be as well honed as these repurposed planks from a now-defunct factory in Pennsylvania.
Meanwhile, I take time to do projects I’ve wanted to do… celebrating little triumphs is my forté; and can even counterbalance the crazy, or so they say… Our teak helm bench, revitalized.
SPARRING WITH MOTHER NATURE is honored to have you aboard; we got to the 700 subscriber mark, and that makes my days better but not cooler. The challenge of keeping my readers interested is paramount for me; a writer’s mind is constantly reworking things in order to make them epic. That’s exactly what we’re doing here, taking a vessel that wasn’t designed to last this long and making it work. Thanks for joining us on this landlocked joust and the entire journey. ~J Is there someone out there who would be entertained by our batshit crazy decisions and unique lifestyle? Pass SPARRING along, please; it makes my writing even more worthwhile. I so appreciate your support of my work. Have a wonderful week!
© 2025 Janice Anne Wheeler
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