Marinalife Website Screenshot

Marinalife announced an expansion of their card-holder Discount Program.  The expansion brings access to thousands of discounts, along with a streamlined way to search for them by keyword, city, state, body of water and category.  The company reports savings up to 50% on dockage, fuel, repairs, towing, service and maintenance, restaurants and more.

Joy McPeters of Marinalife, said,

“The discount program is another benefit that we can offer to boaters. Now, in addition to the online marina reservations, travel tools, and boater’s insurance that we provide, we also offer ways to save money. It fits perfectly with our mission to provide boaters with ways to enhance their boating experience, and everybody likes to save money.”

The company says the Marinalife Discount Card costs $23.99 (USD) and that the discount program is running in the U.S., Canada, The Caribbean and Central America. More information is at the company’s discount webpage.

See other OceanLines stories on Marinalife here.

Copyright © 2012 by OceanLines LLC. All rights reserved.

The Expedition Medical Chest series is the brainchild of Kirsten Hansen and her partner, Steve Roberts (he of Technomad and Nomadness fame).  Unlike the cheap kits you get from the typical marine supply house, these kits are stocked with professional-grade supplies and tools to help you deal with health emergencies while at sea.

Kirsten Hansen is a nurse with 17 years of experience (including ER).  She has patched many a cut, assessed countless traumas, changed innumerable complicated dressings, given thousands of injections, started many IV’s, assisted with surgeries, sutured many incisions and generated a few trees’ worth of documentation and is teamed with Steve Roberts in this new venture.

Steve became known in the 1980′s as a “technomad,” pedaling a computerized recumbent bicycle 17,000 miles around the U.S. while freelance writing with a handlebar chord keyboard and built-in networking tools.  He has written six books, and is now converting a 44-foot steel pilothouse sailboat into something akin to the Starship Enterprise, with a distributed sensor network and voice/browser user interface.

I asked Kirsten to post a version of one of her recent blogs, wherein she discusses the philosophy behind the kits and some of the specific supplies.  Yes, she’s selling these.  But I think they’re a great idea and I want my readers to hear about them from the people who build them.

—————

The Expedition Medical Chest Modules -- Photo Courtesy of Kirsten Hansen

Expedition Medical Chests
by Kirsten Hansen

One of our basic philosophies is that we must take responsibility for our own health, and this is not even optional in the cruising setting. We have to educate ourselves, stock the best tools and supplies, and take a deliberate approach to on-board health management.

The first module in our Expedition Medical Chest line is focused on wounds and burn care. Since lacerations, abrasions, punctures, and burns are common injuries on a boat, we decided to focus on those for our initial offering. Steve told me how he shopped for his boat’s expensive medical kit, and as I browsed the contents with a critical nurse’s eye, I found myself surprised at what was (and was not) included. I realized that if I were called upon to take care of someone who had just cut themselves badly at sea, I would not want to reach for that kit… which is a high-end and well-marketed product.

This brings me to the reasoning behind our first Medical Chest module, which reflects my nursing experience as well as Steve’s colorful career of adventure on land and sea. I have specific preferences in the items I reach for when I enter the hospital supply room, so here is an inventory of the contents packed in a logical sequence in our gasketed Lexan cases, along with some commentary on my rationale behind each:

Ten non-latex gloves - We chose vinyl since many people are allergic to latex (including some who are not aware of it).

Two 8” X 10” high absorbency ‘Abdominal’ pads – these dressings are extremely absorbent, versatile, and generous enough to cover a large wound.

25 4” X 4” gauze sponges – when someone is really bleeding, pressure is the first thing to think of to stop it. Gauze 4×4’s are great to just grab and hold on the fresh wound.

10 stretch fabric knuckle/fingertip bandaids
20 stretch fabric 1” X 3” bandaids- this is my favorite tape for applying and changing dressings (and I’ve tried them all). It is easy to manipulate in tight spots, the adhesive lasts a long time, and it seems to cause the least irritation.

One roll Micropore paper tape

Two 100mL bottles of sterile water – sterile water or saline is a very good thing to have on hand for flushing a fresh wound.

One 12mL syringe – when you are flushing a wound with the sterile solution, a syringe helps to get some pressure going. This can be very helpful with displacing debris and microbes.

One tube of triple antibiotic ointment – a good broad-spectrum topical antibiotic ointment can mean the difference between quick healing and a painful infection. Indispensable stuff.

One pack of 10 3M Steri-strips – To close a gash, these are my tool of choice.

5 Povidone Betadine swab sticks – iodine (betadine) is really an amazing substance.  It will nearly sterilize skin around a wound and is used in surgical prep as well as complicated dressing change protocols.

20 Alcohol wipes – alcohol will also nearly sterilize skin as well as instruments (such as forceps) before use.

5 Telfa 3”x5” non-adherent pads – these dressings will help prevent ripping off a newly formed scab (your body’s natural protective layer).

Two rolls of Kerlix gauze wrap – I really like this stuff for keeping a dressing in place in a spot like an elbow or wrist where there is a lot of motion or friction, but where you don’t need moisture protection.

Two sterile eye pads- this is the wrap to use when you need to secure a dressing, further protect the area, and/or give some support to a joint. Coban is wonderful.

One roll of 3M Coban wrap

One 2”x2” 3M Acticoat burn dressing – these dressings are impregnated with a silver antimicrobial substance which is particularly effective for healing a burn.

One Instant Ice Pack – before you tape a dressing on an area, if you remove the hair it is much easier to achieve cleanliness as well as less painful dressing changes.

One disposable razor

Self-published instruction manual and starter medical log – To tie all this together, I’ve written a set of procedures for dealing with typical lacerations, presented in a logical sequence that matches the grouping of supplies within the chest.

As a nurse, maybe I am spoiled, but I know there is a huge difference in the quality and usability of these items. Lower grade bandages will fall apart as soon as they get wet or you bend your elbow to hoist a line… better ones last longer, are easier to work with, and give you a better chance to heal. The supplies in our kits are the same ones I am used to grabbing when I run into the supply room in hospitals, and the quantities reflect my experience with first aid as well as ongoing care. The gasketed polycarbonate box is completely waterproof and will keep your supplies dry… a must in the marine environment.

Upcoming modules in the series include a smaller version for local journeys (out now), a “ship’s pharmacy,” CPAP storage, and a few others. Future blog posts will look at such topics as what to stock in your onboard medicine cabinet (both over-the-counter and with a prescription from your MD), prophylactic “guerrilla” antibiotics (broad spectrum and others), to Tourniquet or not to Tourniquet, the proper way to do dressing changes and wound assessments, shock, hypothermia, aseptic technique, burns, how to wrap, how to give an injection, how to document incidents in a medical log, use of epinephrine pens and so on. I expect it to be interesting and fun… especially with the added color of your stories about medical adventures at sea!

Cheers and thanks for dropping by!

Read a more detailed version of this blog post, and find much more information at:  MedicalChests.com.

Kirsten Hansen &
Steve Roberts
Nomadic Research Labs

Bimini Bread by Victoria Allman

Bimini Breakdown

by Victoria Allman

We were only going to be in Bimini for two days. There was no time to waste.  I wanted Bimini Bread.

Trouble was, we were anchored two miles off the east coast of the island and the tender was broken.  Harry, our engineer was busy trying to fix it.  But by the descriptive words coming out of his mouth, I held little hope it would be functioning in time to get me to the craft market and to Natalie’s stall before it closed.

Patrick came into our cabin as I stuffed a few loose bills in the pocket of my swim shorts.

“What are you doing?”  Patrick and I’d been married long enough for him to know I was going to take matters into my own hands.

“Taking the paddle board to shore.”  I handed him my bottle of sunscreen and turned so he could apply it to my back.

I could hear him rolling his eyes in his tone of voice.  “That’s over two miles away.

“I know.”

“The wind is still blowing.” 

We had rocked at anchor the night before through thirty-mile per hour gusts.  It had calmed by morning, but there was still a residual breeze and slight chop to the water.

“I know.”

“It will take you over an hour to get there.”

“I know.”

He heavy-sighed.  “I’ll get my trunks on.”

I turned and kissed him.  He put up a fight, but he liked an adventure as much as I did.

The hot sun set my sun-screened skin to glistening with sweat within moments of pushing off from the boat.  My muscles screamed in joy at being able to move again after two days at sea in rough conditions.  My paddle swished rhythmically and pulled me through the varying peacock, sapphire and royal colors of the water surrounding me.

It didn’t take long for Patrick to pass me and be half way to shore.  I spent most of the time shifting my gaze from the white sand beach of our destination to the clear waters below.  I glided over sea fans and rock formations that looked close enough to touch, although I knew they lay thirty-feet below

A barracuda stalks Victoria Allman

.

A flash of silver and white caught my eye and the board beneath my feet wobbled.  A four-foot barracuda hung suspended in teal just behind the back of my board.  I recovered from being startled and paddled closer to shore.  A dozen strokes later, I turned to see him following me.  Another dozen strokes and he was still there; a stalker at sea.

Ahead and to the left, lime green reflected in the sunlight.  I paddled closer.  Somewhere between the sandy ocean floor and me a sea turtle glided through the blue.  I stopped mid-stroke so as not to scare him.  Within seconds, he shot out of sight, startled by the shadow of a large predator hovering above.

In the distance, the flipper of a sunfish fluttered at the surface before it, too, darted off.

By the time I caught up with Patrick on the beach, I was hot and thirsty.  We stashed our boards under a wind-blown casuarina tree and headed up the road to the craft market.

I had been reading about Natalie’s Bimini bread for days.  Now in her late seventies, Natalie had been baking bread for the island for the past fifty years.  She was famous for it.

We approached the coral-colored hut and were greeted with the friendly smile of the islands.

“Welcome to Bimini.”  Carmen, Natalie’s daughter greeted us.  Her close-cropped hair, dark-rimmed glasses and polyester skirt made her look like more of a business woman than an island girl.

“We’ve come for some Bimini bread,” I said.

“They all do, child.”  She held up a loaf wrapped in plastic.  ”This here is the original.”  She arranged the remaining loaves in the bin.  “Mama’s been baking since dawn.”

I held out the soggy bills from my pocket and turned back to Patrick who was busy procuring two bottles of water from a cooler full of ice on the ground.  I held out the plastic bag and beamed.

“How are you going to get it back to the boat?”  Patrick is always the practical one.

My smile faded, but only for a moment.  “I guess we will just have to eat it here.”

“A whole loaf?”

I shrugged.  “There are worse things.” 

We wound our way back to the boards and sat under the dappled shade of the tree.  I ripped off a hunk of the bread and handed it to Patrick.  Crumbs fell onto my lap and stuck to my greasy skin.  The next chunk was for me.  I devoured the sweet, soft bread of the island in minutes and washed it down with the ice-cold water.  It didn’t take us long to make the loaf disappear.

With bellies full of bread, we slipped the boards into the lapping surf.  As I checked over my shoulder to see if I was still being followed, I hoped Harry would have the tender running by the time we returned.  I didn’t want a breakdown to stop me from bringing Bimini bread back to the boat.

—————

Bimini Bread

1 package active dry yeast

1 cup slightly warm coconut milk
4 1/2 cups unbleached flour (plus extra, if the dough comes out too wet)
1 teaspoon sea salt
1/4 cup nonfat dry milk powder
1/4 cup sugar

3 tablespoons honey
3 tablespoons butter, softened
1/3 cup vegetable oil
3 eggs

2 tablespoons honey
2 tablespoons hot water

1 stick soft butter
3 tablespoons honey

Heat the coconut milk in a microwave for 10 seconds until barely warm. 

In the bowl of a standing mixer, combine coconut milk with yeast and let sit for 5 minutes. Add the rest of the ingredients through eggs and mix on medium for 6 minutes.  Cover with plastic wrap and let rise for 2 hours in a warm place.

Divide the dough in half and roll into 2 greased loaf pans. Cover with plastic wrap and let rise 1 1/2 hours until doubled in size.

Preheat oven to 300 degrees.

Mix the honey and hot water and brush on top of loaves.

Bake at 300 for 30 minutes.

Mix together soft butter and honey until smooth.

Cool loaves slightly and serve warm with soft honey butter.

Makes 2 loaves

—————

Victoria Allman, author SEAsoned: A Chef’s Journey with Her Captain, has been following her stomach around the globe for twelve years as a yacht chef. She writes about her floating culinary odyssey through Europe, the Caribbean, Nepal, Vietnam, Africa and the South Pacific in her first book, Sea Fare: A Chef’s Journey Across the Ocean.

SEAsoned…, Victoria’s second book is the hilarious look at a yacht chef’s first year working for her husband while they cruise from the Bahamas to Italy, France, Greece and Spain; trying to stay afloat.

You can read more of her food-driven escapades through her web-site, www.victoriaallman.com

Narrative and recipe Copyright © 2011 by Victoria Allman.

Copyright © 2011 by OceanLines LLC.  All rights reserved.

By Victoria Allman

“Are they still there?” I asked Patrick as he walked through the galley.

“They haven’t left.” Patrick grabbed a slice of pineapple from the platter in front of me. “We’re surrounded.”

I swatted his hand as he reached for another slice. The fruit tray was for the guests on Pangaea, the 185-foot yacht I was chef of, not for the crew, whether he was my husband or not.

I removed my apron and followed Patrick down the side passageway to our aft deck.  The equatorial sun of Papua New Guinea burned deep into my skin within seconds of leaving the cool air-conditioned environ of my galley. I raised my hand to shade my eyes and squinted out over the tea-colored water.

Patrick was right; we were surrounded. Trailing behind us were half a dozen hand-carved wooden canoes, each holding a dozen tribal men and women.  To our starboard side, another four canoes were packed with dark-skinned naked children. Half of them smiled wide, half crouched behind the gunwale, the whites of their eyes peaking over the rim, too scared to look, too intrigued to glance away.

We were a novelty. A boat our size had never traveled that far up the Sepik River before. We had anchored the night before in the center of the river, unable to navigate farther in the dark. The guest on board had requested a trip up the Sepik, also known as the Amazon of the Pacific, to the center of the country along some of the wildest and remotest terrain on earth to view spirit-houses and tour primitive villages. So far, our journey had twisted through steamy mangrove jungles, untouched dense rainforests and boggy swamps.

The guests were on a National Geographic-like expedition, only, it was being done in the luxury of a twenty million dollar yacht.

Sweat trickled between my breasts before I even reached the swim platform. A mosquito landed on my arm. I swatted it away with one hand while with the other I motioned to one of the canoes to come closer.

A man wearing nothing but a pair of shorts and an elaborate headdress of feathers and vines maneuvered his prow alongside the swim platform of Pangaea. Patrick reached down to steady the dugout vessel.

“Welcome.” The man’s rough smile showed betel nut-stained misshapen teeth. He spit velvet red juice into the muddy-brown water. It swirled a moment and disappeared in the fast-moving current. “We sell bananas and coconut.”

I smiled. The local market had come to me. “How much?”

I had been to Madang, the local town earlier that week and had a rough grasp of how the Kina worked. In such a poor country, five kina bought you almost anything. I had spent more money than the market-sellers had seen in a long time on sweet potatoes, water spinach and papaya to feed our twelve crew and twelve guests.

I pulled coins from my pocket and pointed to the branch of bananas on the rough-hewn floor. I held out my hand, but the man shook his head. The animal bone piercing his nose swung back and forth.

“No good here.” He waved his hand toward the river banks lined with clusters of wheat and wild sugarcane. The village we anchored in front of consisted of stilted one-room huts made of wood and thatch. Jungle forests stretched forever beyond the clearing. Of course, where would he spend the money? On what?

Patrick stepped in. “Batteries?” he asked.

The man nodded. Our local guide on board came down to translate.

Patrick disappeared into the engine room to grab some of our spares while I stood smiling at a two-year old, curly-headed girl draped in a dirty white cloth for a diaper. I wiggled my fingers in a wave that sent her burying her face between her mother’s bare breasts.

I looked from one woman to the next. Each was bare-chested with long, flat, shriveled breasts that hung low and uneven down their bellies. Some wore skirts of grass, some a cloth wrapped around their hips. I felt self-conscious in my white polo with the yacht’s logo stitched on the chest.

Patrick returned with a box of batteries and a plastic container. The man nodded and handed me the branch with dozens of green bananas attached. 

Patrick bent down beside the children in the center of the canoe and held out his hand. One child shrieked and huddled in the far corner, but a boy of about six years tentatively peeked into Patrick’s cupped hand. He reached out a scrawny arm and touched what was inside. He, too, shrieked. But, this one was out of excitement.  The other six children pushed and leaned in to get a view of what the strange white man with hair the color of the surrounding wheat fields had in his hand.

The first boy grabbed at what Patrick held and snuggled it to his chest. Finally, I could see what the excitement was all about. Patrick had brought a container of ice from our ice machine. The children pawed at the ice in the boy’s arms, but within seconds, it had disappeared. All heads turned back to Patrick, wide eyes pleading for more.

Patrick laughed and handed out cubes to all the children. The men from other canoes paddled close to see what the excitement was all about. One by one, each canoe approached the boat and as I traded batteries, an old frying pan and crew t-shirts for tropical fruits from the fields, Patrick entertained the children with the ice.

Within minutes, all the crew and guests had come to trade. Extra clothes were exchanged for carved masks, flashlights for weaved baskets. As the rudimentary bartering progressed, Patrick produced the exchange item of greatest value.

He and our engineer, Scotty, lowered the jet-skis into the water. One-by one, Patrick took each boy for a ride. They straddled the seat behind him; smiling and waving as they passed their village, showing off to those on shore waiting their turn. He taught them to drive our machines in exchange for them teaching a thirty-nine year old man how to balance in their round bottomed vessels.

“Stand in back. Just paddle.” One boy instructed. Patrick rose, balancing like he learned on his surfboard as the hollow tree trunk swayed beneath him.  He teetered right and corrected too quickly to the left.

Splash! He emerged from the muddy water laughing. Children and elders roared with laughter around us. To their immense pleasure, he ended up in the water many times, tipping out of the canoe before he mastered its balance. 

By mid-morning, when we had to pull anchor and continue our voyage up the river, we had emptied our reserves of essentials and loaded in their place a bounty of carvings and fruits.

“You’ve been taken advantage of.”  Our guide shook his head. “Two batteries for something that grows free on trees.”

I disagreed. For me, it was the other way around; two little batteries for the chance of creating our own market aboard.  The smile on the woman’s face when I handed over a pot for boiling water and the memory of children’s laughter at my husband’s ineptitude at mastering the canoe was well worth any amount of trade. I was definitely getting the better end of the deal.

We set off for our next destination leaving a trail of canoes and laughter in our wake and navigated toward our next stop for more tribal bartering.

———-

Fruit Salad with Coconut Rum Caramel Sauce - Photo Courtesy of Victoria Allman

Tropical Fruit Salad

with a Coconut Rum Caramel Sauce 

Tropical Fruit Salad of:

•  Pineapples
•  Mangoes
•   Papaya
•   Bananas
•   Grapefruit
•   Oranges

 Coconut Rum Caramel Sauce:

• 1 cup sugar
• 1 orange, juiced
• 2 tablespoons coconut rum
• 1 can coconut milk
• 1 vanilla pod, split and seeded

In a heavy-bottomed saucepot, cook the sugar and juice of the orange over moderately high heat until it turns a deep caramel color. It will darken quickly so watch closely, once it starts to color be ready to add the rum or the sugar will burn. At this point, the sugar is extremely hot. DO NOT TOUCH.  Remove from the heat and pour in the rum. The caramel will “spit” so stand back and be careful. Add coconut milk and vanilla pod and seeds and return to the heat. Simmer for 5 minutes until the caramel is dissolved.

Cool and serve with fruit salad.

Serves 8

———-

Victoria Allman, author SEAsoned: A Chef’s Journey with Her Captain, has been following her stomach around the globe for twelve years as a yacht chef.  She writes about her floating culinary odyssey through Europe, the Caribbean, Nepal, Vietnam, Africa and the South Pacific in her first book, Sea Fare:  A Chef’s Journey Across the Ocean.

SEAsoned, Victoria’s second book is the hilarious look at a yacht chef’s first year working for her husband while they cruise from the Bahamas to Italy, France, Greece and Spain; trying to stay afloat.

You can read more of her food-driven escapades through her web-site, www.victoriaallman.com

Narrative and recipe Copyright © 2011 by Victoria Allman.

Copyright © 2011 by OceanLines LLC.  All rights reserved.

Screen Capture of New ActiveCaptain Routes Editing Function

I know that’s a bold statement, but when I can have access to a library that will eventually likely hold many thousands of already planned (by me AND other boaters) routes, and then someday soon use those routes with more ActiveCaptain technology to tell me what’s up ahead, I will be in a different place than I am today with my capable but largely uncooperative navigation technology.  I’ve been talking to Jeff Siegel, who, with his wife Karen Siegel, is the developer of ActiveCaptain, and it’s clear to me that the live database technology of this website has reached a major new milestone.  The fact that many navigation software programs will update their ActiveCaptain integration with a live Internet link is valuable itself, but the new Routes function within ActiveCaptain is going take us much farther.

Let me back up a bit.  On April 1, ActiveCaptain will roll out a new Routes capability to the ActiveCaptain experience that will allow you to upload, modify, save and share (sharing will start in May), GPX-formatted routes.  Virtually all computer-based navigation software can export a route in this format, and although few chartplotters are also capable, you can use software such as GPSBabel and GPS Utility to translate your equipment’s native file format to GPX.

Screen Capture Showing GPX File Upload to New ActiveCaptain Routes Function

The routes will all be shared with the community — after all, what’s there to hide; your route to the floating Hooters?  That means that, within a short time, given the 100,000 active users currently on ActiveCaptain, there will be routes for many, if not most, of your typical trips; or at least for some part of them — like entering and leaving ports and harbors.

There are a number of significant advantages to this.  First, you will have yet another good way to back-up all your own meticulously planned routes.  If a belt AND suspenders are considered redundant, then you can add the elastic waistband to the mix and have yet another way to keep your trousers up.  (wow, the analogies just don’t flow some days…).

A second advantage derives from the fact that other key components of the ActiveCaptain database — that IS what ActiveCaptain is; a gigantic community database of navigational information (a Wiki-Nav?) — can tell you how good that route is for your situation.  For example, you can factor in your refueling requirements with up-to-date pricing info.  You can take into account the latest info on local hazards reported by other captains.

In fact, there is more technology coming from ActiveCaptain that will make the underway integration of all this planning capability even more impressive.

Copyright © 2011 by OceanLines LLC. All rights reserved.

Screen capture of the new Marinalife website

Marinalife, the online boating concierge and reservations service, has launched a new website, with a clean, nautical look that bodes well for the user experience. The company has also added a useful search function for back issues of the Marinalife Magazine, and its new blog.

I did a quick test of the search function using the word “Charleston” and got three hits related to South Carolina destinations, including an interesting article on Beaufort, South Carolina, that included helpful suggestions on what to do, where to eat and where to dock.

“We are excited about the launch of our new site. We put a lot of thought into the features and functionality that would make the site easy to use and that would serve both our boating and marina members. Member feedback also allowed us to tailor the site to what the users wanted. As our 10-year anniversary comes to a close, the new site is an ideal way to go into our next decade of serving the boating public,” says Joy McPeters, CEO of Marinalife.

Marinalife offers boaters a free 30-day trial including a free one-year subscription to Marinalife Magazine; full membership is available with five different levels ranging from $60-500 per year.You can take a longer look at the website and their various membership services here.

Copyright © 2010 by OceanLines LLC.  All rights reserved.

———-

Cruising in the South Pacific

The South Pacific Dream

“Iorana, Victoria.  Mahi today?” Nunu, a dark Tahitian man with tribal tattoos of tikis, turtles, and rays wrapped around his bicep and stretched down his muscular calves, dropped a blunt-nosed fish on the back deck.  The iridescent greens and blues still flashed on its silver skin indicating it had just been caught.

“Thanks, Nunu.  Will you stay for lunch?” Nunu had been bringing me mahi each time we anchored in the lagoon of Maupiti. With guests on board, I rarely had time for more than a quick hello and to ask about his family, but today it was just the crew.

His face lit up like our navigational spotlights.  “Me? On here?”  He looked up at the towering levels of teak decks and polished stainless rails.  Pangaeawas quite different from the fishing boats he was used to seeing come through the pass in Maupiti.

Maupiti, the smallest and most isolated of the Society Islands in French Polynesia, is a minuscule version of Bora Bora, with a sharp ridgeline summit that dominates the middle of the tiny island.  The calm sapphire water of the lagoon and sleepy swaying palm trees of the surrounding motus are what South Pacific dreams are made of.

 But we had to fight for that peaceful feeling of paradise inside the lagoon.  A storm had hit the area earlier that morning, creating rough waters. 

Most French Polynesian islands are ringed by submerged reefs, part of their volcanic evolution, having erupted from the ocean floor and cooled to create fertile mountain islands. Breaks in these reefs allow boats to enter and exit the lagoons.  Many are wide enough to pass through without incident, but some, like Maupiti, are narrow and dangerous.  The tides rush out daily, carrying extreme volumes of water through the small gap and create a monstrous standing wave with enough force to push even large boats like Pangaea up onto the reef.  On top of that, a south swell from the storm ran against the outgoing tide, creating another challenge to get through. 

Michael, our captain, and Patrick, the first mate, surveyed the scene with binoculars, checking for wave breaks and currents before deciding to enter the lagoon.  This was not a place to be shipwrecked

“Come to starboard to line up the range,” Patrick called to Michael.  He read the water for the slightest change that would send Pangaea off course.  Churning white water lay before us, paving the way.

“How far to the reef on starboard?” Michael asked, without taking his eyes off the bow of the boat. Without rearview mirrors, he relied solely on distances called to him by Patrick.

“You’ve got a good line. You’ll clear by fifteen feet.”

We entered the pass at eight knots and heeled to the right.  I ran down stairs to the galley and lunged for the bowl of noodles I was preparing as it began to slide off the counter.  But just as quickly, we righted and sharply turned to port.  I slammed against the counter. The movement of the boat settled down.  I went to the aft deck to look at the cut we had just passed through. 

The thunderous waves roared high.  Water rushed through the break with the speed of white water rapids.

But inside the lagoon we were sheltered. The water was blue and sparkling, like a mermaid’s bath.  I stood baking in the menacingly bright sun. While lost in a daydream, a sleek yellow and white fishing boat with Tahitian designs stenciled on the side approached.  I smiled and waved.

Nunu pulled up alongside the back of Pangaeaand threw me the line to tie off. His boat was specially designed to drive from the bow with one hand while holding a spear with the other.  He was a professional, adept at catching fish as they raced the same waves we had just sailed through.  One of Nunu’s victories lay in the bottom of the boat.  My smile widened.  Forget the noodles, we were having mahi for lunch that day.

“Iorana, Nunu.”

 Nunu followed me to the galley, his eyes wide with wonder.  He laid the mahi on the counter like a delicate flower and picked up my filleting knife.  He tested the sharpness by running the blade across his thumb.  With a nod of approval, he inserted it behind the fish’s gill and ran it down the backbone in one fluid movement.  He flipped the large and cumbersome fish over like it was no more than a paperback and repeated the procedure.  Nunu lifted the flesh from the backbone leaving a bare skeleton as if it had picked clean by vultures.  He peeled the skin from the fillet and with the speed of a samurai warrior he sliced his catch into sixteen equal portions. 

Now it was my turn to have wide eyes.  “Nunu, you’re a star.  I’ve never seen a fish butchered so quickly.”  It would have taken me half an hour to perform that task and it wouldn’t have looked anywhere near as perfect. “Or so cleanly.” The portions were smooth and exact. 

Nunu winked.  “I do this everyday. Fish is the only food on the island.” 

I looked out the window at the beauty surrounding us.  I could get used to this.  Sunshine, blue water, and a diet of mahi everyday.  Maupiti was quickly becoming my South Pacific dream.

———-

Mahi-Mahi Corn Chowder by Victoria Allman

Mahi-Mahi Corn Chowder

• 2 slices thick-cut bacon
• 4 cloves garlic, sliced thin
• 1 cup onion, chopped
• 2 stalks celery, chopped
• ½ red pepper, chopped
• 1 tablespoon fresh thyme, chopped
• 6 cups chicken stock
• 1 cup potatoes, diced
• ½ serrano pepper, minced
• 1 tablespoon sea salt
• 12 grinds black pepper
• 1 can (400 ml) coconut milk
• 4 ears of corn, shucked
• 2 pounds mahi-mahi, sliced into 1” squares
• 3 tablespoons cilantro, chopped
• 1 lime, juiced

Chop all the vegetables no bigger than a kernel of corn.  Slice bacon to similar size.  Sauté bacon in a heavy-bottomed soup pot, over medium-high heat, stirring often, for 5 minutes until crisp and golden.  Add onion and garlic and sauté another 3 minutes until soft.  Add celery and sauté 2 minutes.  Add red pepper and sauté 2 minutes more minutes, stirring occasionally.  Add thyme, chicken stock, potatoes, serrano pepper, sea salt and black pepper.  Bring back to a boil and reduce the heat to medium.  Simmer for 20 minutes.  Add coconut milk and fresh corn from the cob.  Simmer 5 more minutes. Slice mahi-mahi into 1” squares and add to the pot.  Simmer 5 minutes until fish is cooked through. Add chopped cilantro and juice of a lime. 

Taste for seasoning and serve.

Serves 6

Recipe and narrative Copyright © 2010 by Victoria Allman.

Copyright © 2010 by OceanLines LLC.  All rights reserved.

Nordhavn 75 EYFs 1 and 2 Meet in Cabo -- Photo Courtesy of P.A.E.

There’s a great little item on the P.A.E. Nordhavn website about a chance meeting of the first two 75 Expedition Yacht Fisher (EYF) boats in Cabo San Lucas this summer. The two families who own hulls no. 1 and 2 apparently read the marketing materials that P.A.E. produced when it launched the new model.  One family is using their 75 EYF to explore, while the other boat is a serious offshore fishing boat.  Shall we vote on which color we like best?  I think they’re both nice, but for MY 75 EYF I’m going to choose a dark blue. You?

Here’s an excerpt from the P.A.E. post, which is worth a visit to read in its entirety:

“Of course, Cabo’s not so big that the two huge, uniquely beautiful Nordhavn Yacht Fishers could escape without crossing each other’s paths. They didn’t, and it was a remarkable sight, indeed, to see them – for the very first time since they were on stands at the factory in China – sitting side by side. Save for the paint color and a few variations, the boats were identical. You’d never guess the different personalities each possessed – one, host to family vacation getaways; the other, a gateway to fishing nirvana.”

Copyright © 2010 by OceanLines LLC.  All rights reserved.

The NENTOA Nordic Tugs Flotilla in Essex, CT in 2010 - Photo Courtesy of Paul Tortora

If you’ve never been to an owners’ or manufacturer’s or dealer’s rendezvous, you’re missing a great part of the cruising lifestyle. Last weekend’s Northeast Nordic Tug Owners Association (NENTOA) 2010 Rendezvous in Essex, Connecticut, is a great example of how they work and why they’re such a wonderful experience.

The New Nordic Tug 39 Arrives, Captained by NT CEO Andy Lund - Photo Courtesy of Paul Tortora

NENTOA works closely each year with major sponsor Wilde Yacht Sales, the Essex-based Nordic Tugs dealer for the northeastern U.S. NENTOA is an active owners’ group and working with Wilde, they solicit support from industry sponsors and put together a long weekend program. In this case, which is typical of a well-planned rendezvous, the program had a nice mix of social and “educational” activities. Special guess this year was Nordic Tug’s new CEO Andy Lund, who talked about what’s new at the company these days. He skippered the brand new Nordic Tug 39 all the way from Michigan to the rendezvous. Pretty unique.

I asked Paul Tortora of Wilde Yacht Sales for a rundown on the weekend. Here’s his summary. I’m going to ask the couples who made presentations if they would share them with us here on OceanLines. So come on back to see those.  Here are Paul’s comments:

NENTOA Rendezvous Participants Talk Outboard Motors - Photo Courtesy of Paul Tortora

First day is pretty much reserved for arriving and settling in, getting your registration packet, socializing with other owners and culminates with a ‘Rum Party’ followed by a ‘Pot Luck Dinner/Barbeque’ and then a presentation by the owners of Seamantha ( John & Paulette Lee) who have spent the past year traveling on a Nordic 42, and another presentation by Celebration (Brian & Ellen Clarke) who took their Nordic 37 down to the Chesapeake from Essex, CT. Each set of the owners gave a presentation on their trip and experiences including photos and music.

NENTOA Nordic Tugs Rafted at Hamburg Cove - Photo Courtesy of Paul Tortora

Second day was filled with workshops like engine maintenance by Cummins, boat maintenance by Ben Wilde, electronic session presented by Bill Jones of Raymarine, ‘Going Green With Solar Panels’ & Vacuflush Maintenance by Phil D’Anato of Ship Shape, ‘Whats New At Nordic’ presented by Andy Lund (CEO of Nordic) and some other workshops like ‘Crafts on Board’ which was tailored for the Admirals aboard. The neat thing about the workshops this year is that we added several hands-on workshops which were a huge hit. They included ‘How To Properly Use A Fire Extinguisher’ where each attendee got to practice PASS – pull the ring, aim, squirt, side to side. Also Man Overboard drill presented by Bill Boyer and Deploying a Floatation vest which was demonstrated in the pool by Dick Seymour. This day ended with a formal dinner reception featuring steak and swordfish, open bar and then a raffle featuring some great prizes that include overnight stays at Brewers and Essex Island Marina, handheld VHF radios, Maptech Guides and more.

Part of the NENTOA Nordic Tugs Parade - Photo Courtesy of Paul Tortora

Third day was a presentation by Herb Nickles & Wendy Shepherd on their trip on a Nordic 32 – boat name is Snorri. That was followed by a parade on the CT River (all the individual shots of the boats where they are running) and then a raft-up in Hamburg Cove (pictures of boats on moorings, with dinghies, swimming).

The next morning (Saturday), 7 boats departed for a two week Tug Tour from Mystic to 5 ports in MA and then back to Block Island and Greenport, Long Island as the final destinations. Another group of approximately 9 boats went on to do the coast of Maine. (Editor’s note – This is one of the real benefitsof buying from an active, interested dealer like Wilde — these co-hosted rendezvous and group or flotilla cruise opportunities, which are really helpful if you’re a new boater or not used to longer trips.)

Farthest boat this year was from Michigan which was the brand new Nordic 39 at display at the Rendezvous and will be at our docks for the next month for viewing, sea trials and of course is available for purchase. That boat was brought here by Andy Lund himself (not often you see a president of a company roll up his sleeves and spend 14 days bringing a boat to its destination — really gives him an opportunity to test their design changes and interact with people IMO). Second farthest distances this year were from Barry Shapiro & Suzanne Claus on Spray (Nordic Tug 37) and they came from Nashua, NH while Richard and Shirley Righter of Keene, NH brought their Nordic 32 named Olive. We did have owners come from Guezpn, Ontario but they came by car as their boat is currently in the Turks and Caicos.

I created a gallery of some of the photos Paul sent along. You can see it here. Some of the picture sizes are rather large, which is good if you want to look at details on the boat, not so good if you have a slow Internet connection.

We’d like to hear about other rendezvous that took place this summer (or are still planned; we’ll help you spread the last-minute word). Drop me a line here on the Contact page or in the comments to this story and we’ll follow-up with you. Thanks to Paul Tortora and Ben Wilde of Wilde Yacht Sales for the photos and roundup.

Copyright ©2010 by OceanLines LLC. All rights reserved.

———-

Love Da Ting’s You Do       

by Victoria Allman
Author of: “Sea Fare: A Chef’s Journey Across the Ocean”
www.victoriaallman.com
Victoria on Twitter

“You gots to love da tings you do for people.”  Vivian used her large upper frame to knead the dough. The muscles in her arms told the story of just how many loaves of coconut bread she had rolled in her life. “It isn’t work if you love it.”  It sounded like the mantra every yachting chef should recite.

The weather was bad that week; although, you wouldn’t know it from the view.  The sun shone bright.  Fluffy clouds underlined in lilac, splattered the sky, looking like the meringue I had just whipped for Key Lime Pies. The boat rocked ever so slightly under my feet.  But, on the other side of Staniel Key, the Atlantic was churning a fury. It was nothing we wanted to be sailing through. We snuggled in to wait.

But waiting wasn’t something I did well. If we were going to be stuck in limbo, I wanted to learn how to make the islands famous coconut bread.  After all, that was why I was yachting; to see different cultures cuisines. On our first afternoon, I went to see my friend Vivian.

“Good day to you, baby.”  Vivian greeted me.  She was wearing a New York Yankees t-shirt. A Yamaha ball cap shielded her face, but it could not hide the bright smile.

“I was hoping you could teach me how to make coconut bread.”  Vivian made the best on the island.

“Well child, let me sees.  I gots to get someone to grate a coconut for me.”

“I have a bag of pre-shredded on the boat,” I volunteered.

Her face twisted to one side. She pursed her lips together, her eyes squeezed shut as if she just bit into a lemon.  “No, you’se have to use fresh grated coconut.  Lesson number one.”  Then she laughed shaking her head.  What do these crazy white girls know about anything? “Tomorrow’s we make bread.” 

The sweet smell of coconut wafted out the screen door when I arrived the next day.  A wooden bowl with a pile of white, flaked coconut sat on the countertop along with a generic five-pound bag of flour.  “I’s already baked all mornin’ but we’s can make another batch.”  She threw her head back and let out a booming laugh.  “Everybody love when I make bread.”

Without even measuring, Vivian poured flour onto the counter creating a white powder mountain.  She thrust a thick fist into the center to make a well.  From a plastic container she scooped large handfuls of sugar into the center.  “We’s like our bread sweet.  Just like the women here.”  Again she howled.

“This is a breakfast bread then?”  I asked.

“No child. This here is for anytime.  My coconut bread don’t last around here ‘til morning.”

She cut open two envelopes of yeast and poured it into a coffee mug of warm water.  She hummed while she pinched some of the sugar from the pile into the mug.  “This here I just set aside for a minute to start bubblin’.  It works best that way.”   Vivian turned back to her pile and scooped a large wooden spoon full of soft butter from a tin on the counter.  With a flick of her wrist she sent up a flour cloud as the butter buried itself in the center of the well.  She scooped up the wooden bowl of coconut and scraped the wet pile into the flour.

By now the coffee mug had a beige cloud of yeast bubbling on the surface.  She poured the cup into the well and began scooping the sides of flour up and into the center.  She shook salt into the gluey gloop.  Her upper frame jiggled as the dough on the counter began to take shape.  

“Junkanoos a comin’, just around the corner,” she half sang-half hummed.  She stretched out, pushing forward with her palms.  She gathered up the dough and hugged it back towards her body.  She moved in rhythm to her humming.

“You just gots to love the tings you do.  That is what you taste in my bread.  It’s the love.”   She caressed the ball of dough like she would a newborn babies head.  “Now, I just leaves this to set for an hour or so until it is twice this size.  Then I shape it into two dough pans and set it to rise again.  After another hour I bake it.”  She turned to the stove grabbing one of the loaves off the cooling rack.  “And this is what you gets.  Coconut bread.” Her smile beamed like the rays of the sun.

Vivian placed a still warm golden loaf in my hands and handed me a bag of half a dozen more.  “You’se take these to your friends on the boat and tell them this here is the taste of the Bahamas.”

I smiled in thanks.  I too, loved da tings she did.

———-

Makes 2 loaves

• 1 cup warm water
• 2 packages yeast
• 1 teaspoon sugar
• 1 ½ cup grated coconut with the water (about two coconuts)
• 5 cups flour (amount of flour may vary depending on how much water is inside the coconuts)
• ½ stick soft butter
• ½ cup sugar
• 1 teaspoon sea salt

Combine warm water, yeast and 1 teaspoon sugar in a large bowl; let stand 5 minutes until yeast begins to bubble and look fluffy.  Stir in rest until a soft dough forms.  Turn dough out onto a lightly floured surface.  Knead until smooth and soft (about 6 minutes); add extra flour to prevent dough from sticking to your hands or the surface.

Place dough back in bowl and cover with plastic wrap.  Let stand 1½ hours to rise.

Divide dough into two, working with one half at a time roll dough out into a log.  Place into a bread pan that has been sprayed with Pam.  Brush the top of the bread with a scrambled egg to glaze.  Cover and let rise for 45 minutes until it has doubled in size.

Preheat oven to 400.  Bake for 30 minutes until golden brown.  Cool on a wire rack.

Recipe and narrative Copyright © 2010 by Victoria Allman.

Copyright © 2010 by OceanLines LLC.  All rights reserved.