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.

Baroque Depiction of "Seasickness" by Giorgio Bonola, Image from Wikipedia Commons

Motion sickness, to quote Dr. Patricia S. Cowings, of NASA’s Ames Research Center, “won’t kill you — you just wish it would.” She and a colleague have discovered that a regimen of biofeedback training is more effective than even the powerful anti-nausea drugs given to NASA astronauts — some 50 percent of whom suffer from airsickness during spaceflight. An MSNBC blog piece by Chris Tachibana cites the publication of this new research by Cowings and Dr. William B. Toscano in the Journal of Clinical Pharmacology.

Motion sickness has been a serious concern for NASA for a long time. The debilitating affliction can compromise the potential accomplishments of a spaceflight that is on a strict timeline with no allowance for downtime or sudden crew shortages. But I guess it should all make us feel better that half of all the people with The Right Stuff still get “seasick.”

The biofeedback technique discovered by Cowings and Toscano involves learning to control heart rate and sweating, principally using breathing techniques combined with high-tech biofeedback. It’s more than just relaxation, the techniques actually lower heart rates and diminish sweating, which have the effect of stopping nausea.

The scientists compared results of their Autogenic-Feedback Training Exercise (AFTE) with the standard NASA treatment of an injection of promethazine (Phenergan), and with a control group that had no training or treatment. The AFTE group had dramatically better results than the group that had even the highest doses of promethazine.

Until AFTE is available publicly, the recommendation from the study’s scientists is to focus on steadying your breathing, using two-second intervals for inhalations and exhalations. I can attest to the efficacy of this. On a recent offshore passage, we were beaten up rather stiffly by a confused quartering sea with a short period and every time I went below decks I had to race back topside and do some deep-breathing exercises while focusing on the horizon. Eventually I got used to the seas, as most people do, and I never actually fed the fishes, but I know there’s something to this new research. I’ll keep an eye on it for you here on OceanLines. In the meantime, suck on some crystallized ginger and do your breathing!!

Copyright © 2010 by OceanLines LLC.  All rights reserved.

Vietnamese Elephant Ear Fish Deep Fried. Photo courtesy of Victoria Allman

—–

Elephant Ear Fish

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

“You have lunch today?” My guide asked.

“Of course,” I replied.

“Today is special,” Luc told me. “Elephant ear fish.

Elephant ear? I had seen so many different things here in Vietnam, but I had yet to come across any elephant ear fish.

We had been cycling along the mighty Mekong River for four days. I had rented a mountain bike and hired Luc to guide me through the Mekong River Delta, expecting to explore the countryside, get some exercise, and see what life in Vietnam was like. What I hadn’t realized was that we were, above all else, embarking on a culinary adventure.

Each day, we cycled past fertile emerald green rice paddies that stretched around us, as far as the eye could see. Vietnamese women dressed in the traditional long flowing white ao dai and conical hats, shielding their lily-white skin from the fierce sun, bent over the fields. We cycled past old crones, standing out on the side of the road, surrounded by rice drying in the sun. Around the next bend, we went by bamboo mats lying low in the sun with delicate round sheets of rice paper drying on top of them. We had cycled the small dirt roads to village markets where cages of turtles, mice and small puppy dogs were on display, all for that night’s dinner.

The morning we set out for the floating market to eat elephant ear fish was an early one. “Best time to see is between sunrise and 9:00 AM.” Luc told me as we started out. “After that the boats start to go away.”

We rode for an hour before stowing our bikes on the back of the long dragon boat that would take us to the market. A thin bony man stood on the back of the boat, rowing us past waterways overhung with dense vegetation. I settled in to the luxury of someone else providing the sweat for transportation. As we approached the market, I saw dozens of boats gathered together. Large barges anchored in the water, creating lanes, with smaller wooden boats rafted up to them. Villagers from up and down the river traveled through the lanes, their boats laden with branches of bananas and piles of mangoes. Sampans with overflowing baskets of coconuts and bushels of water spinach took over the view.

Each wooden boat’s bow displayed a long pole. “That tells what is for sale.” Luc pointed to a hand of bananas flying above one boat like a flag.

I pointed to the spikes of fushcia skewered through one pole. “How about dragon fruit for breakfast?”  Luc broke into a smile and asked our boatman to stop.

Later that morning, we were taken to see a floating fish farm of the Mekong. From afar, it looked like a one room cottage with a small veranda in front of a single door, the river delta its yard. Inside, a white-haired, hunched back Vietnamese man smiled a wide toothless grin of welcome as I entered the shack. He bent over a trap door in the center of the floor and lifted the hatch to reveal the water below us. His shaky hand was covered in raised veins like a chart of the delta. He reached into a plastic bucket beside the hole in the floor and produced a handful of fish pellets that resembled cat food. Scattering them across the still water, he laughed as I jumped in fright at the sound of hundreds of catfish torpedoing to the surface of the water for the feed. The catfish wrestled and wriggled over one another, creating a boiling pot effect in the water under the house. Within seconds the turbulent thrashing ceased and the water was calm once more.

“Large net under the house penning in the fish” Luc explained to me.

I was muddy, sweaty and sun burnt when we pulled into the guesthouse. I was too tired from a long day’s ride to look at the menu and was glad when Luc reminded me that he had already arranged lunch.

“Remember, elephant ear fish,” he said.

How could I forget?

We sat in the shade of the porch at a small rickety wooden table already set with the ubiquitous bowls of Vietnamese cuisine: nuoc cham, wedges of lime, and chopped chilis. A porcelain doll of a woman approached with a plate of fresh fragrant herbs. Mint, cilantro and basil explosively filled the air. She smiled demurely, her almond eyes cast downward as she placed the plate on the table in front of me.

As the girl scurried back to the kitchen, Luc explained “She make you salad rolls with elephant ear fish from the pond out back. Her family grows fruit for the market in the garden and they have fish for lunch and dinner. Fish being killed now.”

The girl returned a few moments later carrying a fifteen-inch fish shaped like a bass, which was standing straight up in wooden holders. The fish had been fried and its scales were curled and flaking off, creating something of a 3D effect. This piece of art looked as if it were still swimming through a sea of fresh herbs and carved vegetables on the plate.

The woman delicately picked up a pair of wooden chopsticks and expertly flaked the fish’s flesh away from the bones. She made a small pile of the white flaky fish and retreated to the kitchen.

Luc scolded me when I picked up my chopsticks. “Not yet, just wait.”

I looked again to the kitchen. This time the woman appeared with the same rice papers we had seen drying on bamboo mats. They had been softened in water and lay stacked like pancakes awaiting their filling. Again the woman picked up her chopsticks and with nimble hands layered a mixture of the fresh mint, cilantro, basil and fish in the center of one of the rounds. Using only the chopsticks, she tucked the filling in close and rolled the paper-thin wrapper around the contents like a cigar. She placed it on my plate and using hand signs indicated that I should dip the roll into the bowl of nuoc cham and eat.

Fresh and pungent flavors filled my mouth. The saltiness of the fish sauce, the heat of the chilies and the zing of the lime in the nuoc cham mixed perfectly with the fresh herbs and soft fish. The rice paper wrapper added a chewy texture that was so light and fresh I could not help but inhale the whole thing in seconds. “Wow!” I said.

“You like?” The woman inquired as she tucked a strand of her dark shiny hair behind her ear.

“I like.” I said as she giggled and began rolling another. Another salad roll was placed on my plate seconds after I had finished the last, not a minute before. You could not ask for fresher than that.

I was exhausted from the ride and dirtier than I had been in years, but I was being treated like royalty, my lunch being prepared in front of my eyes. Quickly the pile of rice paper wrappers vanished, as did the fish. Soon all that remained were the bones being held aloft by the wooden stand.

The exhaustion I had felt earlier vanished. I was refreshed and ready to tackle another afternoon of riding.

“You follow me?” Luc asked in his questioning command.

“Only if you are leading me to another great meal like that” I said.

He smiled “You like elephant ear?”

“I like elephant ear” I replied.

“Next, we try snake” he said, as I clasped my bike helmet and set off for another culinary adventure.

Vietnamese Summer Fish Salad Rolls. Photo courtesy of Victoria Allman

Vietnamese Summer Rolls

By Victoria Allman

• 2 pounds mahi-mahi, red snapper, or tilapia (flaky white fish)
• 2 tablespoons olive oil
• 1 lime, juiced
• ¾ teaspoon sea salt
• ¼ teaspoon black pepper
• 1 package of rice vermicelli noodles (250 grams)
• 1 tablespoon sea salt
• 1 cup mint
• 1 cup Thai or regular basil
•  1 cup cilantro
• 16 rice paper wrappers, (have extra on hand in case you rip some)

Combine fish, olive oil, lime juice, salt and pepper.  Marinate 10 minutes.  Pre-heat oven to 350.  Heat a frying pan (or grill pan, if you have one) over high heat and sear fish for 30 seconds on each side.  Place in oven and bake for 10 minutes until cooked through.  Cool and flake the fish.

In a soup pot, boil 1 liter of water with 1 tablespoon sea salt.  Add rice noodles, stirring to separate.  Cook for 3-5 minutes until soft.  Drain.  Rinse with cold water and drain again.  Using scissors, cut into 5-inch lengths.  Set aside.

Slice herbs into thin strips and mix together.

Place 2 rice paper sheets in the soup pot and cover with 6 inches of lukewarm water to soften for 20 seconds.  When soft and pliable remove one carefully and place on a paper towel in front of you.  Place 1 tablespoon of the herbs in the center of the circle 1/3 of the way from the bottom in a rectangular shape (6 inches long by 2 inches high).  Place 2 tablespoons flaked fish on top and 2 tablespoons vermicelli noodles on top of that.  Roll the bottom of the rice paper up and over the filling, tucking the ends in to close, like rolling a cigar.  Fold both right and left flaps into the center, creating blunt ends of a roll.  Be careful not to roll too tightly or the rice paper will rip (which happens often until you get the hang of it).  Roll the filling gently towards the top of the circle, taking care to tuck the filling in to make a snug package.

Repeat with next sheet of rice paper and add 2 more to the soup pot to soften.

Serve with a ramekin of Nuoc Cham (recipe below) for dipping.

Makes 16

Nuoc Cham

• 1/3 cup fresh lime juice
• ½ cup fish sauce
• ¼ cup sugar
• 1 clove garlic, minced
• 1 teaspoon sambal olek (read about sambal here)
• ½ cup water

Combine all ingredients together and stir.  Taste and adjust flavors until you achieve a balance of sweet, tart, and salty.

Makes 1 ¼ cups
Recipe and narrative Copyright © 2010 by Victoria Allman.

Copyright © 2010 by OceanLines LLC.  All rights reserved.

—–

Moroccan Meanderings

by Victoria Allman

The narrow streets of the medina tangled like veins flowing to the heart of the city. The souq (market) was where we were headed. Saffron yellow, burnt-red and tan spices mounded in barrels along the way.  Mule carts laden with bundles of fresh mint, coriander and parsley were parked along the side of the street.

Shopping in the Moroccan Medina - Photo by Victoria Allman

“Just look.  Just look.” Arabian men sat in front of endless stalls like auctioneers bidding us to enter their shops. “Ali Baba, come look.”  Patrick’s blond beard evoked the nickname we heard called to us everywhere.  It stood out as much as the red hair I tucked behind a scarf.  No amount of discretion in this Muslim country would hide the fact we were two pale-skinned people among a darker race.

Our foray into the labyrinth had meaning.  We had a destination.  The problem was we were hopelessly lost.

“Ali Baba, where are you going?”  A man asked.  After an hour of trying to find the correct alley we resigned ourselves to ask for help.

“Mechoui?” Patrick hesitated not sure he was pronouncing it right.

“Yes, come,” he said.  We shrugged off the anxiety of being lost like a shawl from our shoulders and gave ourselves over to the guide. 

Hazzid had the soft features of a Berber man.  His dark tight curls were trimmed close to the scalp, his skin a latte color.  His dress of black jeans and a Western jacket told the all too familiar tale of a man who left the mountain village to work in the larger city.  He wove us down serpentine alleyways and around corners.  He walked fast, glancing back to make sure we followed close. 

“Watch, Victoria.  Watch here.”  He pointed out every misplaced stone that maimed the street, caring for me like he would his own child. 

The hot smoky smell of roasted meat alerted us that he’d found the place. A row of tables heaving with cuts of lamb spread out in front of us.  Eyes stared at us from roasted sockets as we passed the first stall.  The second table was identical to the first, a mountain of legs, ribs and rumps.  The scent of cumin followed us from stall to stall. 

Finally we stopped.  “My family,” Hazzid introduced us to two men in white chef’s jackets, their bellies stained with grease.

“La bes,” I ventured a Berber greeting.  They laughed in unison.

“Hello.  Big welcome.”  Smiles erupted on their faces. 

Hazzid stepped behind his brothers and lifted a round stone from the floor. “Victoria, look.”  This time he wasn’t cautioning me.  This time he showed me how the lamb was cooked.  Through the manhole was a pit dug deep under the street.  In the center of the chamber embers of a long-burning fire glowed, lighting the space.  A dozen lamb carcasses hung from hooks above the coals.  Heavily scented smoke clouded the space, permeating the meat with its flavor.  The earth-oven had cooked the lamb slowly, for hours, melting away fat and leaving moist, tender meat.

“Mechoui,” Hazzid stated in way of an explanation.

“You try?” One of the men asked.

“Yes, please.”  This is what we came for.  He raised a large cleaver.  With one stroke he split the lamb in front of him through the backbone.  Another blow sectioned off a hunk for us.  Tendrils of steam rose from the chopping process.  Using the knife and his free hand, he scraped and scooped the meat onto one side of a scale, on the other he stacked weights.

The spices of the Moroccan Market Place - Photo by Victoria Allman

“One kilo.  Good for you.”  He heaped more meat than I could imagine eating onto a paper plate and loaded the top with two rounds of Moroccan pita bread.  I reached for the plate, but Hazzid quickly grabbed it from me.  It was clear he was now our host.  He carried the meat up the stairs to the open-air terrace above the stall.

We wasted no time.  Soft pieces of meat fell from the bones.  Custom dictated we eat only with our right hand; something that proved harder than mastering chopsticks.  We dipped the meat into dishes of cumin salt.  Succulent flavor filled my mouth and coated the inside with silk.  Hot juice glistened my fingers.  Patrick groaned.  This was good.  We devoured the whole plate and I wondered if Muslim customs would frown on a woman sucking the bones in public.  It took a great deal of inner strength to resist the urge.

Hazzid returned with a tray of tea.  He held the ornate silver teapot at a great height, pouring clear brown liquid in an elaborate show of service into the tiny glasses below.  The high pour brought new aromas to the air.  Fresh mint replaced the smell of roasted lamb making my mouth water again.

Hazzid held his cup high.  “Big welcome.” And with that we were left on our own to meander the streets home, our bellies pregnant with the flavor of Morocco.

Moroccan Mechoui

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

• 1 whole leg of lamb (or shoulder) on the bone, 6-8 pounds
• 4 tablespoons olive oil
• 4 cloves of garlic, minced
• 11/2 teaspoons sea salt
• 1 teaspoon pepper, or to taste
• 1 1/2 teaspoon cumin
• 1/2 teaspoon turmeric
• 1 teaspoon paprika 
• 2 teaspoon sea salt
• 1 tablespoon cumin

Trim excess fat from the leg of lamb, and make a dozen or more cuts deep into the meat with the tip of a sharp knife.

Combine the olive oil with the garlic, and spices through to paprika. Spread the mixture over the entire leg of lamb, working some into the incisions made with the knife.

Place the leg of lamb in a roasting pan.

Preheat an oven to 250°F (120/130°C).

Cover the lamb with foil, sealing the edges tightly. Roast the lamb, basting hourly and resealing the foil each time, for 7 hours, or until the juices run clear and the meat is tender enough to pinch off the bone.

Transfer the lamb to a platter and allow it to rest for 15 minutes before serving. If desired, the juices can be poured over and around the lamb.

Mix cumin with sea salt and serve in dishes on the side for dipping.

Recipe and narrative Copyright © 2010 by Victoria Allman.

Copyright © 2010 by OceanLines LLC.  All rights reserved.

New Blog Write On The Water

Chris is already a famous (to me at least) author of a great mystery series featuring the fictional tug captain Seychelle Sullivan. And Mike is a full-time writer living on his 36′ sailboat, Roughdraft. OceanLines’ own guest author Victoria Allman, who writes our “Sea Fare” series of recipes for the cruiser and who wrote “Sea Fare:  A Chef’s Journey Across the Ocean.”

I know from talking with readers of OceanLines that many of you are also writers. Remember, the definition of “a writer” is “someone who writes.” Don’t buy the stodgy nonsense that you have to have been published to be considered a true writer. Writers write. Period. And from what I’ve read, some of you are very good writers.

One definition of a good writer is someone who can tell a compelling story. Our community has those by the drove. People like Ken Williams, John and Maria Torelli, and others who have compiled their writings into books.  And others, like Milt Baker and John Marshall and a host of other current cruisers, tell great stories in their blogs.  Of course, there are also the classic “nautical writers” of the age of sail, like Melville, Conrad and Dana. They were all seamen before they were writers. Derek Lundy points that out in his great book “The Way of a Ship,” which is is a fantastic account of his ancestor’s passage aboard the Beara Head, an iron-hulled square-rigger, that took a load of coal around Cape Horn.

If you’ve written about your time on the water, we’d like to hear about it and share it with our other readers. Send us a link to your blog or a book you’ve written and we’ll put together a page with everyone’s links on it. I know you’re out there, typing away on some kind of keyboard. Let’s hear about it! And stop by Write On The Water when you get a chance.

Copyright © 2010 by OceanLines LLC.  All rights reserved.

—– 

Victoria Allman's Santorini Eggplant Salad. Photo Courtesy of Shalimar Orlanes.

This is Greece!

by Victoria Allman

“Are we there yet?” I whined like a six-year-old on Christmas Eve. We were racing from the crowded town of Oia to the fishing village of Ammoundi to taste the local grilled octopus that we had fallen in love with all over Greece. 

“Almost.” Patrick was giddy with excitement too.

We were on the island of Santorini, high above the Aegean Sea and making our way towards it.  Hardly noticing, we passed the blue domes and whitewashed walls of the buildings nestled into the side of the sunken volcano.  The dramatic view over the caldera was lost on me.  I could see nothing but the narrow steep steps under my feet as we descended.  We reached the bottom and collapsed into the plastic chairs of the first tavern we came to, our stomachs growling. A man with shoulder-length dark curls approached with bottles of water in his hand.  I smiled—my own Greek God.

We ordered Mythos beers, a plate of octopus, another of calamari, and an eggplant salad.

The Adonis returned with our meal.  Famished, we ravaged the plates in quick succession.  The octopus disappeared in seconds.  I don’t even remember the calamari, it was gone so fast.  I took a breath and leaned back from the table. The blistering Mediterranean sun blazed down, scorching my skin. Small wooden fishing boats painted bright red and green bobbed in the sapphire water.  Rhythmic waves flooded the pebbled beach.  It was quiet and peaceful, in stark contrast from the crazed mob overhead.

Relaxed this time, I picked up my fork to taste the eggplant salad.  It was juicy and smooth in my mouth.  I took another forkful to be sure.  It was not bitter or biting like eggplant can be.  This was sweet and velvety smooth.

The classic blue domes and white homes of Santorini. Photo courtesy of Shalimar Orlanes.

“Yum.”  The sentiment escaped my lips without me knowing.  The waiter had returned, more beers in hand.  “This is good, no?”  I nodded and he started to explain. “We use white aubergines, from the fire.”  He pointed to the wood-burning grill that our octopus had come from.

“They’re sweet.”  I said.  He smiled; the whiteness of his teeth shone bright against the dark olive-tone of his skin. “They grow like this, with the earth of the volcano.”

“You don’t add anything else?”  I thought there had to be sugar.

“Of course!  This is Greece. Lemon and olive oil, always.” He shook his head in laughter and retreated back inside the tavern.

I looked over my shoulder skyward.  The crowds were gathering above to watch the sunset.

“How about another dish of that salad?”  I asked Patrick, unwilling to leave our sanctuary and join the chaos.  He nodded and smiled slyly.  “And one more octopus?”

“Of course!  This is Greece!”

Santorini Eggplant Salad

By Victoria Allman
Author of: Sea Fare: A Chef’s Journey Across the Ocean
www.victoriaallman.com

2 white eggplants
1 onion, unpeeled
6 cloves garlic, unpeeled
1 lemon, juiced
1/4 cup olive oil
1/2 teaspoon sea salt
1/4 teaspoon black pepper

Prick the skin of the eggplant and roast in a 400 oven with the onion and the garlic cloves for 1 hour until they are all soft. Cool and peel the garlic and onion. Peel the eggplant and place in a colander. Mash the eggplant with a potato masher to press out the juices. Place everything in a processor and blend until slightly smooth texture is achieved. Taste for seasoning and serve with cucumber slices, feta cheese, kalamata olives and pita breads.

Serves 6

Recipe and narrative Copyright © 2010 by Victoria Allman. Photography copyright Shalimar Orlanes (http://www.shalimarorlanes.com)

Copyright © 2010 by OceanLines LLC.  All rights reserved.

In fact, the rescue of J/World’s crew is a textbook example of how smoothly things can go when you truly are prepared for the worst. Even some unlucky breaks didn’t prevent a successful rescue by U.S. Coast Guard helicopter. The specific equipment that kept this crew alive and got them rescued was their Viking RescYou liferaft and their EPIRB. The raft protected them in rough seas some 60 miles offshore southwest of San Diego and the EPIRB alerted authorities and brought the Coast Guard right to their location.

USCG Swimmer Hoisted Aboard MH-60 Jayhawk After J World Rescue

In this photo you see the USCG rescue swimmer AST3 Scott Mochkatel being hoisted back aboard the MH-60 Jayhawk after safely getting all five J/World sailors aboard the helo. The USCG Sector San Diego press release has a link to the actual rescue video (just click on the picture in the press release similar to the one at right).

Here’s how it was recounted by the crew to Viking, the makers of the Rescyou liferaft:

The annual Baja Ha-Ha cruiser rally from San Diego, California, to Cabo San Lucas, Mexico, turned into a life threatening situation for five, San Francisco-based, J/World Performance Sailing School participants. Thanks to fast-thinking crew members, an eight-person Viking RescYou liferaft and the United States Coast Guard, they’re all alive today after their 40′ J/120 J World sunk, 60 miles offshore.

For J/World instructors Eugenie Russell and Barry Demak and three, adult J/World students, the rally started in fair conditions. Three days in, the team was enjoying swift passage to Turtle Bay, the first anchorage point, with 20-25 knot winds and 10-15′ swells.

On the third morning, just before 10am and about 200 miles southwest of San Diego, the crew encountered a pod of humpback whales. A severe collision caused the rudder to completely dislodge and J World started taking on tremendous amounts of water.

Captain Russell, an experienced offshore sailor, dealt with the situation calmly and methodically. The crew continued to sail the boat with just the sails to get clear of the whales, while attempting to secure the rudder post and stop the ingress of water with a manual bilge pump. Russell went below deck to retrieve the EPIRB and ditch bag, while Demak gathered additional food, water and equipment.

About 40 minutes after the initial impact, Russell and Demak decided the crew needed to abandon the sinking vessel. They activated the satellite-detectable emergency distress signal and deployed their Viking RescYou liferaft just as a large wave hit the submerging boat.

With the aid of the inflated boarding ramp, the five sailors entered the offshore liferaft, bailed out cold seawater and tried to keep themselves warm and dry. They took stock of the offshore emergency pack contents, read the survival instructions and awaited rescue in windy, high seas.

Soon the team saw a USCG Jayhawk flying past them. Demak radioed the aircraft, while Russell fired one of the SOLAS rocket flares. Once the Viking liferaft was spotted, the USCG executed a textbook evacuation of the five sailors.

Fortunately, the professionally prepared and operated teaching vessel was equipped with the best offshore equipment, including the well-maintained Viking RescYou liferaft. Russell and Demak agree that the Viking liferaft was paramount to their survival. “We were fortunate to have the best equipment in perfect working condition,” said Demak, “but it is just as critical to be confident that it will work as designed and to know how to use it.”

If you’d like to read the full account of the J/World sinking and rescue, the December issue of Latitude 38, original sponsor of the rally, has a fantastic article and interview with Eugenie Russell. And the blog of the J World Sailing School itself has an even more extensive account by the participants themselves.

Copyright © 2010 by OceanLines LLC.  All rights reserved

Stateroom with Office Accommodation Layout of new Kadey-Krogen 52"

Kadey-Krogen’s recently announced 52′ is a classic example of a builder filling out a product line in specific response to customer demand. In this case, the company already had on offer its well-established 48′ and the new 55′ Expedition. The 55′ Expedition, however, is not really the “other” boat in this comparison — it’s the Krogen 58′ which was more of a model for the new 52′. In a recent interview, Kadey-Krogen Vice President Larry Polster talked about the boat itself and what kind of customer is the target for the new 52′.

With the first signs of the economic recovery beginning to emerge in the recreational boating industry, Kadey-Krogen is optimistic about the market for the new boat. “There’s clearly a market for bigger boats — upper 40s to mid-50s,” says Polster. He says the company originally had a hole in its lineup that stretched from the 48′ to the 58′ and originally started out designing a 53′. But input from the early customers on that design turned it into the 55′ Expedition, a significantly different design that the traditional Krogen. And the price wasn’t between the two original yachts, either.

Polster says the 52′ is better understood as a smaller 58′, rather than a larger 48′. And of course, he emphasizes, the new boat is designed fresh from the keel up. “It’s a purpose-built boat; not a stretched hull,” says Polster. The familial resemblance to the 58′ can be seen in details such as the Portuguese bridge, the Dutch door in the starboard-side galley, and the open office space below. So, the 52′ will appeal to those who like the design of the 58′ but might be intimidated either by the size or the price. And yet, it is substantially roomier than the 48′, not least because of the extra foot of beam (17′-9″).

Interestingly, all of the launch customers have chosen the same layout — master stateroom forward, twins to starboard, and a convertible open office to port. Kadey-Krogen has converted several of the initial letters of intent to firm contracts and construction is on schedule.

Starboard Profile Rendering of the new Krogen 52'

As a clean-sheet-of-paper design, the new 52′ is one of the few boats of her size that was designed from the outset for the baby boomers who started retiring last year. Manufacturers today — from the boat builders themselves to systems providers like KVH — understand that liveability aboard is key to success with the boomers. That liveability issue is directly related to keeping household standards. Not only do you see household-standard appliances and near-shore size beds and head fixtures, but even minor details like stair steps. “We’ve taken great pains to make all risers and treads house-standard,” says Polster. “The magic ratio is about 17 — rise plus run — but a tread of only 7″ is hard to stand on.”

Kadey-Krogen expects high efficiency from the 52′s hull. Predicted performance at a speed/length (s/l) ratio of 1.1 shows the requirement for 70 hp, moving the boat at 7.6 knots. The boat will displace 70,000 lbs at half-load. Standard engine is a 231 hp John Deere (all Krogens have JD power), and the genny will be a 12kW Northern Lights set.

The new 52′ has a competitive base price right now of $1.295 million. That compares to a base of $949K for the 48′ and $1.595 million for the 55′ Expedition.

One interesting side note: the question often arises — how big a boat do I need to live aboard? Obviously, there can’t be only one answer to that question, but in Kadey-Krogen’s experience, the answer is — “somewhere in the 40′s.” “We built 50 of the 39′s and as far as I know, only one couple lived aboard full-time,” says Polster. One size up, however, and it’s a different story. “The 42′ is a little bit longer, but a full 18″ wider in beam and tons of owners are full-time liveaboards.”

Copyright © 2010 by OceanLines LLC.  All rights reserved.

Original 2009 Route Map of the GSSR - Courtesy Ken Williams

Ken Williams, who, with his wife Roberta, owns the Nordhavn 68 Sans Souci, reports that the 2010 cruising season for the boats of the Great Siberian Sushi Run (GSSR) is approaching. In an email today to followers of his blog, Williams reports that the boats, which traveled from Seattle, Washington to Osaka Japan last year, will this year explore more of Japan and finish in Hong Kong. You can read our coverage of the start of the GSSR last year here.

Williams says, remarkably, that the 2,000 mile voyage will likely include only one overnight passage — that from Taiwan to Hong Kong.  Here’s a quick summary of the trip from Williams’ e-mail:

2010 Route Plan of the GSSR From Osaka to Hong Kong -- Courtesy of Ken Williams

“Our journey this year “should” be much easier than last year. We’ll be traveling from Osaka Japan, into Japan’s inland sea, where we’ll visit Hiroshima and Fukuoka. Somewhere along the way we’ll visit South Korea, but we won’t be taking the boats. It’s too complicated, and expensive, to clear the boats out of Japan, into South Korea, and then back into Japan. Instead, we’ll park the boats somewhere and take a ferry into South Korea. Once back on the boats we’ll explore Nagasaki and Kyushu Japan, then head south along the Ryukyu Island Japan, visiting Okinawa along the way. Allegedly the Ryukyu islands are a chain of tropical islands, reminiscent of Hawaii. We’ll then leave Japan from the island of Ishigaki and head to Taiwan, where we’ll visit the factory where our Nordhavn boats were born. Our group will be the first Nordhavns to ever return to the factory, so everyone is very excited. After that we’ll head to Hong Kong.”

To read more about the run, including who else will be in the group this year, you can read Ken Williams’ blog here. And if you haven’t already picked up his books on cruising, you should. They’re a great mix of journal-like entries with a narrative that let’s you share his learning experiences along the way. We have a link to the online store where you can order them over on the right sidebar (that link is not a paid ad; it’s there because I like Ken’s writing and hope to expand his readership even farther).

Copyright © 2010 by OceanLines LLC. All rights reserved.

Peterson Fuel Delivery Barge Brings Diesel -- Photo Jeffrey and Karen Siegel

Passing through Miami or Fort Lauderdale and need fuel? How about having it delivered to you at anchor by Peterson Fuel Delivery. They’ve been doing it for almost ten years but I didn’t know about it until Jeff and Karen Siegel took advantage of the service and wrote it up in their cruise blog, TakingPaws.

According to the Siegels, Peterson has high-speed pumps that are fully adjustable — a nice feature if you know your plumbing can’t handle more than 40 or 50 gallons per minute of fuel flow. I wish we had this kind of service in my cruising waters in the Northeast. I love having the Aldo’s Bakery visit my boat while I’m moored at Block Island, and having the pumpout boat come by my slip at the dock. Jeff and Karen agree that if we could just find a dog-walking service to come pick up the “kids,” there’d be no reason to leave the boat.

Do you know of other fuel delivery services? Let us know in the comments and make sure you log them into ActiveCaptain so everybody gets the gouge.

Copyright © 2010 by OceanLines LLC.  All rights reserved.