Young Sailor…Part 2

Another short excerpt from my latest story. Continuing with Clyde:

Luke gave me and Clyde another beer. ”

“And then what happened?” I asked

“Luke here was willing to come with me to Hawaii. It was not a difficult choice for us to abandon school for a tropical paradise. No choice at all. An easy decision. Off we went and where pray tell after that, or this? Who knows, or cares. We live for the day man. Luke and I are livin the dream, out for adventure…an excellent adventure…right Luke?

Luke smiled but said nothing.

We left Long Beach thirty five days ago.

“What? And you just arrived today?” Even I knew that that was almost twice the time it should take to make the transit across.

Clyde laughed. “We WERE getting low on provisions. Down to hard tack and non perishables. We had a stack of stashed shit from our New Zealand trip that was still stored onboard. We fished too and caught a few. Yeah, it was getting tense but we managed…didn’t we Luke?

“Yeah man.” Luke responded after a slug of beer.

“Yeah.” Clyde continued, looking over at Luke for concurrence. “Navigation was a sore point with us…and money.” We didn’t have a lot of either. I got a large scale chart of the Eastern Pacific…three actually… and the islands, bought a plastic sextant for 50 bucks and learned how to take a noon day latitude shot. We noted the latitude of Oahu from the chart and off we went. Initially we sailed west by southwest by compass until we reached the latitude line of Oahu…around twenty one and a half degrees north latitude. Once there we sailed west straddling the twenty one degree latitude line all the way.” he paused to take another draft of his warm beer.

I shook my head in disbelief. This was comical and foolhardy…but an amazingly interesting account of questionable bravado, as only a seventeen year old could possess

“Then what?” I asked

“Wind was not our friend. We were not making good time. Seas were calm most of the way across. The only indication we would have had that we were getting near was from our VHF radio but that was nothing but static squelch almost all of the time. That made sense as that frequency range was only as good as a line of sight distance from the top of the main mast.

“So we took out our transistor radio. It was one of those long radios that were popular in the mid to late sixties.” Luke brought it out to show me. It was silver in colour with a metal mesh front hiding the speakers and an enlightened display panel showing four frequency bands across the top. On the very top of the radio beside the handle was an antenna that could be raised and lowered and extended in a line up to about 50 degrees from the horizontal.

“Good thing we had batteries otherwise we would still be out there flopping around somewhere.” He shook his head. “Once powered up we would hold that radio with its antenna extended at about a 30 degree angle from the horizontal and then point it across a wide arc of our visible horizon. Sure enough, over time, we picked up a radio station, especially during periods at dawn and dusk. A great deal of interference and a static mumbo jumbo of voices and songs were picked up. We would point the radio across the axis of where the signal strength was coming from. Its intensity would increase as our orientation changed and over time we picked up one of Oahu’s AM stations. We set a course along the axis of the signal, checking it out for confirmation every few days. Sure enough, we picked up the light at Makapuu Point on the southern eastern end of Oahu and knew we had made it. After a few more days we arrived here at the Ala Wai.”

“Wow.” I said “Holy shit man. You guys are some lucky dudes.”

“I know.” Clyde said. “Rudimentary and basic perhaps but it worked…in time.”

Luke nodded his head in agreement but offered nothing to the story.

I checked the time. I had to go. I’ll see you guys later. I am just over at G35. If you need a hand when you get your assigned berth lat me know.

“Will, do.”

“Thanks for the beer Clyde. Thanks Luke. Great to meet you guys. See ya around.” and I left.

And that is the way it was for Clyde and Luke: two young guys out for adventure with not a care in the world: getting by on their wits. Clyde was the leader of the two, a natural, and I could detect why. He was charismatic. People were drawn to him. He possessed a maturity for his years that was evident but hard to define. He was one of those individuals in life that you meet from time to time: one of life’s characters without being so. It was just the way he was. An ingrained character trait: friendly, funny, confident and street smart. Even though he was young in physical years he had much of life’s experiences under his belt. He was anything but risk averse as he was eager and willing to take chances for all of the rewards, graces and gifts that life had to offer. Who, in their right mind would consider sailing a forty five foot ketch from Long Beach to Honolulu on a whim without so much as a second thought? Yes Clyde was one of life’s characters and heaven only knows that the world needs more characters. On top of that he had a very unique and wonderful name.

SJ…Out

 

 

Days 10 and 11: Chatelet / Chateaumaillant

No wifi yesterday. Storm knocked out electricals in many places. Or that was their story and I believed them.

Day 10: St Armand to Chatelet.

I bid adieu to the Von Trappe family and headed to my campsite. Big mistake. It was about 2 km off my route and the site was crap. I say this literally as there was only one male “shitter” for the whole place. And, and this is the real stinker, no papier de toilet and they removed the toilet seat. And no amenities. All for 11 euros. Crap. I decided that I would no longer camp as they were getting worse as I headed south. In the morning everything was damp. And, and the gate was locked so I had to climb over the fence to get out at 6 am. Sacre Blue, mon dieu. It must have a site seeing an old fart like me climbing over a fence at 6 am.

I got going well enough but got into a bit of trouble again. As I was singing a few of my favourite Eagles tunes I missed a marker and ended up walking about 6 km more that I had to. I was very upset with my own stupidity. Finally walking through a small village and by a garden that had the biggest and reddest and juiciest tomatoes you will ever see. I felt like grabbing one but then thought of those dogs from the day before and thought better of it.

Finally made it to my first stop: Loye-Sur-Arnon. As I walked into town I thought I was seeing a vision, an oasis,for there, right in front of me was a cafe, open, with a terrace.Seated outside were 3 pilgrims like me. How can you tell? Other than the backpack being a dead giveaway,the sort of unwashed look about them was also a clue. Frederic,his partner Daughine and Bruno, from Paris. Younger than me but great people. Had lunch together in the French way. Long, tasty and rich. Fun. They could speak a little English and with my shattered French we got along just fine: the 3 Musqueteers, er 4 counting myself.

Frederic, the top pic turned out to be a real character. You know, the world needs more characters. And you find characters in every country, no matter what, and they are always people you are drawn to. Natural leaders.  Frederic was fun loving,great sense of humour and very positive outlook on life. Wonderful.

We all met later at Chatelet and they shared dinner with me. And that is something because of the lack of services on this route one has to carry their food. We all sat outside at Chatelet and had a wonderful time till very late. Daughine is Frederic,s partner and Bruno is their friend. Bruno  recently lost his parents so he is doing this walk to re-think his own sense of being and belonging. Good luck to him.

And just to prove to you that I am really here:

All she wrote:

Thought of this tune all day today while walking:

https://youtu.be/Lq0fUa0vW_E

Day 11: Chatellet to Chateaumaillant – famous for wine.

The 4 Musqueteers are all staying at the same place. An over priced gite. I pronounced this git but it is pronounced jeet. No wonder I was getting these crazy looks. I said goodbye to my French friends as they were going to Chartre, some 30 km away. I decided to only do 10 km as I needed a break but rather take a whole day off I decided to only do 10.  But some how these short days end up being the longest. Today was no exception. I arrived at Chateaumaillant early but all of the hotels,gites, and hostels were full so I had to camp again,and the campsite was about a km off my track – bummer. Oh well, finally here and settled.

The short walk was fine.  Countryside was gorgeous. Hilly, meadows skirted by shallow but lush forest canopies. One village in particular was very quaint. They were having an outdoor flea market. They call it something else here but one thing is certain: junk is junk no matter where it comes from. The other thing I noticed was this unique early morning bird call. Goes something like this: oooooooo-whooooooo, oooooooo,whooooo. Don,t know what kind of bird it is but it is always singing that tune each and every morning.

Being a short day I thought I would spend some time on some stats:

Completed 11 days,

Completed 245 km

Drank the equivalent of A Great Lake in water

Highest temp: 44 Celcius in Premerly. 8 days of over 34 degrees

Spent about 30 euros per day on average

Hate my Ipad

Walk an average of 25 km per day

Have met many people

Physically demanding in hills

Most villages deserted and very few services

French beer is surprisingly good

I hate my Ipad

Better than  I expected. Way better.

I should be thin but I am not

French distance markers are wrong. In fact the French kilometer is longer than anywhere else in the world. I,ll give you an example. On day two I was nearing my campsite at Guipy when I came up to a roadsign that indicated Guipy-3.5km. After about 30 minutes I came up to another roadsign that indicated Guipy-3.5 km. F@#k I sceamed. How can that be I screamed again  as I was tired and anxious. After another 30 minutes walk I came up to another road sign that indicated Guipy-3.5 km. Being a good catholic I yelled to my lord: Holy F@#k. I was freaking out.True story,and

I really hate my Ipad as it takes twice as long to correct  mistakes as in making them.

 French Cowboy

Change in music. Some marching tunes: