Cruisers always help other cruisers. Partially because they are generally just the kind of people always willing to lend a hand, save a boat from dragging, offer advice or whatever and partially because they just like to help out. And, if nothing else, by helping others, you confirm that they all have problems just as bizarre and pervasive as your own. It is also true, however, that they know that last week they had been the one needing help, this week they will “pay it forward”, in so doing banking future help reserves. It will soon be their turn once again.

I have often been the “helper” and, thankfully not quite as often, the “helpee” and, therefore, would never diminish the amazing generosity and helpfulness of the cruising community. And yet, it could be said that there are self-serving benefits for cruisers helping cruisers.

This is not true of the land-based good Samaritans - they have nothing apparent to gain. Yet, I, like all cruisers, have an endless number of stories which prove conclusively that despite this fact they often freely offer amazing help and support. This blog has featured many such stories since its inception almost 10 years ago.

There was the time, just 1-2 months into my cruising life when, arriving in Newburyport, Mass, I set out on a quest to find a Barber Shop. It had not yet occurred to me that the clippers that I used to clip Cee Cee the Sailor Dog’s hair would work equally well on me. That revelation came later. Arriving at the shop 10 minutes after it closed was disappointing but the barber took one look at my short-clipped hair and knowing that this was a 10-minute haircut, told me to wait while she finished up a final appointment. I was in the chair for barely that 10 minutes during which time she gained the basic facts – cruising sailor, in town overnight etc etc. Realistically, though, all she really knew about me at the end of that 10 minutes was the color of my roots! And yet, when I casually asked if the local grocery store was nearby and walkable her immediate response was “Oh no, it’s too far to walk. Tell you what, I start work at 9:00 tomorrow morning and won’t need my car all day. Show up here then and you can take it to the grocery store.” And since I did need provisions – I took her up on her very kind, very amazing offer.

Only a month or so later, I had taken Cee Cee the Sailor Dog to a veterinarian in Plymouth, Mass to deal with a Lyme Disease infection picked up from some nasty Maine tick. The Vet practiced out of the first floor of his large home just up the hill from the Plymouth waterfront. While he treated Cee Cee, we talked enough so he knew the basic live aboard cruising sailor story. When I asked if there was a mini-mart nearby where I might get some butter, he told me “No, nothing like that here in town.” But, as Cee Cee and I were preparing to leave to head back to the boat, he said “Wait here” and ran up the stairs, returning with a pound of butter out of his own refrigerator and insisting that I take it. I did – and took along an amazing story of thoughtful generosity as well.

A final favorite story from the archives:
I was anchored in Round Pond harbor in Maine on my first cruise. Anchoring in Round Pond was difficult to do even then – probably impossible now – as moorings fill most of the lovely harbor. The only place to slip in with any swinging room at all was directly in front of what was obviously the nicest, most beautiful and undoubtedly most costly house on the harbor. Now, it wasn’t like KR was an ugly boat. Nor was I drying underwear or other laundry on the lifelines. Still, it occurred to me that I was not improving the view for these people and at some level wondered what they might think of that fact.

I was off the boat the next day but saw the homeowners take off in the powerboat that had been tied to their dock. I was back aboard when they returned. They pulled up right next to KR and stopped. I thought, “Ok, Here it comes.” The lady came out of the pilothouse and called out to me: “Welcome to Round Pond. Thank you so much for visiting us. If you need anything at all – to go to the grocery store, or to the marine chandlery or whatever – just dinghy into that dock and come up to the house. We’ll take you anywhere you need to go.” This was not what I expected to hear her say – and even now, 10 years later, I find her kind words of welcome to be incredibly heartwarming. I needed nothing – so did not take them up on their offer – but took away much from the connection.

Now, the fact is that after 10 years of cruising I am better at provisioning food and spares and better at planning ahead. And KR’s inevitable gear failures are a little easier to predict and to resolve. I am less needy – or at least less often needy.

I find that to be a little unfortunate in a way as it was experiences like these few old stories that I have just recounted that showed me that one of the true blessings of the life of a cruiser is that, being a little needy (or at times a LOT needy) causes you to reach out. It is at these times that the truly helpful, generous nature of people becomes clear – people everywhere, of all types, classes, nationalities and cultures. And, the shame is that most people with “normal lives” never really experience this. Seriously, when you are on home turf surrounded by family and friends with all of the tools of modern society at your fingertips – cars, cell phones, credit cards, 24/7 internet connections etc – exactly how needy are you ever likely to be?

As a cruiser – particularly a single-handed one – I will forever be spared this problem. There will always be something. Always! In fact, two recent and very different occurrences have reminded me of this fact and of its value in my life.

There were a few unexpected problems with KR that cropped up after launching. I am sure that 9 months of being stored in hot, humid Florida was not good for my lovely lady. Most of the “discoveries” were easily resolved with parts from on-board stores or by paying a few UPS charges on parts orders.

One that was a little more insidious was that KR’s manual windlass, which had been problem free for all of the 6 years it had been aboard, started to bind and became very difficult to actuate. What made this “insidious” was that it only started to bind after the first 50-60’ of chain had been recovered. Odd, but, I assumed, easily resolvable with a bit of lubrication. By the time I was in the Bahamas in Spanish Wells it was clear that externally applied lubrication wasn’t going to work and the windlass had to come off the boat and had to be disassembled. While I can certainly pull up KR’s anchor by hand, it is not easy to do and it can become dangerously difficult in high winds and bouncy anchorages. Getting it working again was not just a convenience – it was a safety issue. What made this project a bit more stressful is that 1. I had never had it apart before, 2. There are no parts available for these windlasses any more – anywhere in the world much less in the Bahamas, 3. I was sure that the casing would be packed with large amounts of grease, all of which would need to be cleaned out in order to troubleshoot the problem, 4. There was no way to do this work aboard. I needed a shop to work in.

Spanish Wells is an active fishing port and, as such, is filled with capable people, repair and service shops and very much a can-do philosophy. This was the place to try for a repair.

On the appointed day, I pulled the windlass off the foredeck, opened the case (finding just as much dark grease as expected) and headed off to town. The people at the boatyard suggested a repair shop just over the hill. The young man behind the desk at the repair shop looked skeptically at the windlass and me and said “I suppose that you could leave it and we can take a look. But we’re really busy and I’m not sure when we can get to it.” When I pleaded my case and suggested that what I really needed was a place to work and a parts cleaner, he took me out and introduced me to Mark, one of the mechanics, who took me under his wing, soon had an air powered sprayer nozzle rigged and ready to spray diesel fuel at high pressure to help clean out the casing (It turned out to be a damn good thing that I had changed into one of the t-shirts that exist at the bottom of the t-shirt pile – the ones just one small step from being demoted to rag status. It soon was diesel and grease soaked and has definitely been demoted and discarded.) Four hours later the windlass had been cleaned, disassembled (it took the shop’s arbor press to remove the main shaft), the fiber bushings on the main shaft carefully opened up a bit and having thus resolved the problem, re-greased and reassembled.

If that was all that had happened, then this story would just be about a project completed and a boat problem resolved.

However, Mark and the other people working in the shop and Justin, one of the owners, were engaged and interested and incredibly helpful. No one knows better than I that there is a difference between the “engineer” – me – and the “mechanic” – them. I needed their help and they freely and generously gave it. And, it wasn’t just shared interest in the work. Mark was an avid sailor, scooting about the local waters on his Hobie Cat whenever possible. We talked sailing. Justin had been an engineer on one of the locally based fishing boats and had stories to share. However, he and I truly connected when I mentioned that my home was in the mountains of Colorado. Justin is a dedicated road bicycle rider and high on his bucket list is to ride in Colorado. He knew of the “Ride the Rockies” bike race held every year in Colorado and of other bicycle events in the state and had done research on how to realize his dream of riding there. Justin and I talked about the sea and about biking in Colorado – and connected in the process.

When it was time to settle up, Justin said “I have no idea what to charge you – what’s right?” I told him that if we were in the States, I wouldn’t have even been allowed in the shop – insurance rules alone would have precluded that. And, I added, “You would be completely justified in charging me $40 an hour. I would be very comfortable with paying $20 an hour. But, if you want to give me a great deal, $10 an hour would be spectacular.” We settled on the latter plus the $20 in shop supplies that I had used.

Cruisers always like a deal – and I am no exception. It was, however, the connection with interested, interesting and generous people in a situation where I was truly in need that I will always treasure.

The final story is different in that the “needy sailor” wasn’t truly needy. There was no real problem, nothing needing to be procured or repaired and nothing that was dangerous or even inconvenient. There was just the very simple need – that for human company and connection – always present but especially virulent during the holidays. And, I would admit, at times particularly strongly felt by this single-handed sailor.

When I first arrived at Alabaster Bay, a fairly quiet bit of coast with the Eleuthera Airport at its northern end, a temporarily closed restaurant/resort complex at the south end and one large white house on the shore about midway between the two, the white house had its storm shutters closed and was clearly unoccupied. However, before I headed down to Governor’s Harbor it came to life for the holidays - whether owners or renters, how many people etc were questions with answers unknown. All became clear a couple of days later when I had decided to treat myself to an afternoon at a beach bar/restaurant/resort on the ocean side called Sky Beach Club. Hanging about such places is not the norm for me but some time reading on the beach, a nice lunch with cold beers and access to a fresh water pool were convincing arguments in favor.

While at the bar, I met a few members of the extended Hughes family - 3 siblings with their spouses and 7 kids ranging from 9 to 18y/o – who were renting the white house on Alabaster for the holidays. It was a pleasant but short chat as the kids’ energy was driving them toward the beautiful ocean beach for some playtime in the surf.

We reconnected the next evening at the Governor’s Harbor Friday night fish-fry and had a bit more time to talk while waiting for our food. Scott told me that he had some cruising dreams of his own and asked that if I were to get back to Alabaster, could he come out to see KR to understand the cruising life a bit better. Certainly, of course, and I actually was pretty sure that I would be heading back up there the next day. I’d had enough of the big city for a bit.

As I enjoyed the scene at the fish-fry and to a lesser degree the food at the fish-fry, it occurred to me that Scott and some portion of the family might enjoy a day sail from Governor’s up to Alabaster. I searched him out, made the suggestion and we agreed that 6 of them would join me at 12:30 the next day for the easy 6-mile sail up the coast.

I spent the next morning (Christmas Eve) ensconced at the coffee shop enjoying coffee, pastries and holiday video chats with family and friends – a very pleasant morning – before connecting with the 6 adult members of the group at the dinghy dock. They had wisely slipped away from the kids for an afternoon of relative peace and quiet. And, we had a wonderful sail - with 15kn of wind on a broad reach, in land-protected crystal clear waters under a brilliant blue sky – Disney Sailing. It was only when we rounded the point at Alabaster and came up on the wind that KR put her shoulder down and showed off a bit of muscle – 7knots! After a quick tack, we brought in the sails and soon had her laying safely to her hook.

What a pleasant way to spend Christmas Eve - Video chats with family and friends and a lovely sail with new friends. A quiet Christmas Eve evening on board in a lovely Bahamian Harbor was something to then look forward to. There was, however, no hesitation on my part in accepting their kind invitation to join them ashore for dinner that night and to share Christmas Eve with the family. I had time to bake up some focaccia bread to share so didn’t feel like a complete leach.

The dinner was excellent and the evening “festive”. For readers of this blog, you will remember in my recent post titled “Why in the Flip Do I Do This?” I used the word “festive” to describe the effect of being pummeled from all directions by tumultuous waves on my passage to the Bahamas. Being surrounded by seven kids/young adults aged 9-18 felt very similar. The waves of energy were equally “festive” – particularly so when the Seahawks (their favored team) did something right in the game on TV. While Seattle eventually lost the very close game, dampening the waves a bit, by then the “feeding frenzy” was well under way and no one cared too much.

All joking aside, I enjoyed the evening very much – needless to say – and what would have been a quiet but thoroughly pleasant Christmas Eve aboard became a truly memorable night spent with new friends. Let me extend a heartfelt thank you to the extended Hughes family for inviting this “needy sailor” in.

I am once again – as always - in awe of the generosity of those that I encounter and manage to connect with in this meandering life!

I am currently in Hatchet Bay getting blown to bits by this week’s front passage. All is well, though and I’ll be wandering along again soon.

Best Wishes to All for a Very Happy New Year.

PS – Oh yes, the pic. On any given day in the Bahamas a beachgoer might say to himself; “Wow. This is absolutely the most beautiful beach I’ve seen since, ummm, yesterday. And it is certainly the most beautiful beach I will see until, well, tomorrow.” This beach was the one at Sky Beach Club.