I realize the gap between this blog and the last one has been a bit longer than usual, I hope your forgiveness is easily forthcoming, please understand, training my new crew has kept me extremely busy lately. Getting new crew is a significant event on a yacht, you are inviting a total stranger to live with you in a tight space and under stressful conditions, we are not in a luxury resort here. There is much adapting on both sides.

 

 

Training

If you have been keeping up with the videos,   CLICK HERE   for the latest video,  you have already met my new crew ivan. Things are going along well and I think I chose wisely with this one. He is very nice in his soul and a good person inside. I say all the time the only thing I am really judgmental about in other people is their intentions. We will all say or do stupid things, but as long as our intentions are good, forgiveness is easy and we can work out the details. Ivan is very well intended.

As a whole I will happily proclaim that things are going well and it seems like he will work out for me.  Ivan can stay until early March and will help me get WildChild at least back to the bahamas. I am unsure yet if I will sail the south shore of Hispanola and visit Jamaica and Cuba on my route to the Bahamas or not, this is yet to be determined.

 

 

If you have been following along you know that I have lived a very isolated and lonely existence out here on the ocean and suddenly…   BAM… there is another human being in my personal space 24/7. This takes effort to adapt to. The good news is, ivan says my social skills are fine and not nearly as deteriorated as I had feared. Ivan says  “.… listen young lady… you are a lovely person… don’t worry…  you are good…” in that thick Croatian accent of his.

English is his fourth language and the nuance of it is sometimes lost on him. He called me Leslie for the first week, it seems the letter x is difficult for him to pronounce. I find him cute, like his expressions and mannerisms are adorable sometimes. I did not realize that I call everybody “hunny” as a generic kind term focusing on the sweetness and goodness of people. Ivan has taken to calling me “hunny bunny” in reaction to my unconscious and continuous use of the label hunny.

Captain Lexi starts with…  “…listen hunny… we need to go and do…”  and ivan replies with “… yes hunny bunny okay we will do…“, it’s cute. The energy on the yacht is gentle between us and going well so far. Well does not mean perfect, there are things creeping up.

 

Dopamine Addicts

This is a bit complicated for me, I am so separated from the larger social world you all live in I am not affected by it the way you dirt dwellers are. I do learn about your dirt world thru media sometimes so I do have a clue about how things or going among you. Although… I am rather isolated and usually not directly affected by it, until now.

Did you know…. that cell phones, facebook and the internet in general are rewiring the brains of everyone? When the little notification symbol dings, and you check your phone, your brain releases a tiny dose of dopamine, which is a chemical reward. Our young people, planet wide, are rewiring their brains in a drastic way, silently addicted to that dopamine hit. Admit it, even you check your phone more than you should.

Anything in moderation is fine, but in ivan, he is extremely addicted to his phone, and it is a problem. He seems to have the attention span of a goldfish and if left alone for 60 seconds, he MUST check his phone or he starts jonesing. He is very intelligent but extremely unfocused, like self induced A.D.D. from his phone addiction.

Are all young people like this now out there in your world?

 

 

When I leave him alone, perhaps so I can work on a boat project, and tell him.. “okay… study your notes or practice your knots…” he does not. He is immediately on his phone working for that dopamine hit, everything I just said went in one ear and out the other, his mind only thinking about his facebook or whatever.

I took him snorkeling the other day, lovely ocean marine experience. His only interest was to be filmed doing it so he can post it to his facebook and twitter and whatever accounts. Within 10 minutes, after the camera goes away, he is bored and goes to the beach to sit.

No interest in the wonders around him

This is weird for me. Although I understand that I do film myself and share my life, the filming is secondary to the primary experience, posting it irrelevant. I was enjoying the snorkeling and happend to spend a few minutes filming it. With ivan he has no interest in the experience only being seen doing it. As soon as the camera is off he is bored. He took no interest in the reefs or the life all around him. I tried to show him cool and interesting things, without the camera on, and he had zero interest.

I am not sure what to do about this? or how to handle his dopamine addiction. I literally have to take his phone away from him like a school teacher if I need him to focus or do anything. If I leave him alone to study or do some task, he will not, he goes straight for his phone automatically and forgets everything not inside that evil box.

 

Accommodating the dopamine addict

This also causes him to have very weird and extreme ideas and beliefs in his head. “…I once saw a video…”  is the beginning of every crazy idea in his head. He fears dish soap and will not eat off any dishes cleaned with soap? He fears toothpaste and fluoride. He fears me using cleaners on the counters or even the faintest whiff of bleach, he seems to think he will die immediately.

He lives with his cell phone in his hands but is terrified that mine with give him cancer, he moves it as far from himself as possible so he doesn’t die you see. If you get him started on how evil amalgam fillings are you will not be able to get him to stop. He will not allow you to have amalgam fillings in your mouth either. He will “educate and fix you” immediately. I have been thru it already.

His dietary needs are also extreme. He eats only the best fresh fruits and vegetables, non GMO (instant death don’t you know) and detests canned food. He needs gluten free and reads all food ingredients. He has seen so many videos about diet and food that he knows almost everything you can eat, is bad for you. He is the fussiest eater ever on this boat.

I tried to explain to him that fresh fruits and veg are very hard to come by, extremely expensive, and rot on a hot tropical yacht within a few days. We only provision once every few weeks. He bought over 3 dozen ripe bananas and ate them all in two days before they spoiled! He no longer has access to instant gratification for his high standard diet.

We eat a lot of preserved processed foods on a yacht for a reason.

He also eats like a horse… like wow… he eats 6 times a day, like if he goes an hour without eating he is hungry. So my new crew seems to need / demand only the freshest highest quality food in abundant amounts and the lowest price. He was so offended when he saw the price of food down here, he bought almost nothing at the store, and he does not seem to understand we are not in europe anymore. He wants to wait to provision in a cheaper place like Martinique, but what does he plan on eating until then?

I am unsure how to accommodate this..?

***

His ability to reason and process the flood of stimulus the evil box is inserting into his brain seems unbalanced to me. He is so extreme in so many of his thoughts and ways. The reality of life on a sailboat in the ocean is not conducive to his goal of living to be 200 years old.

He also does not listen, and I know most women complain most men do not listen very well. So I am reasonably understanding that the other team is different than me. I need to accept this. But with my new crew… it is extreme. I find myself utterly exasperated with him sometimes, I am becoming the mother to a messy teenager who needs to be nagged a lot.

Let me tell you two interesting stories to illustrate my point.

A week ago I was working on my engine. It had died on me suddenly and unexpectedly the day before, like fuel starved. Ivan was my assistant and I was the mechanic. I checked and drained the Raycore water separator and wanted to change the fuel filter, it was overdue.

 

 

Ivan is watching me take out a new fuel filter, watches me fill it with diesel, and I hand it to him and ask him to hold it for me. He is standing in the galley to the port side of the engine.

Within 5 seconds he forgets what he is doing, and lays down the full fuel filter on the counter top…!   Diesel spills everywhere on the food prep counter and goes down the cracks into the fridge..!  He basically covers our food in diesel. I still cannot get the smell of diesel out of the fridge and I have cleaned it thoroughly twice. His mind “forgot” what it was doing and got distracted by something else within seconds.

It was such a stupid thing to do, but with his goldfish attention span…  I am unsure how to handle it.

***

Yesterday we had just launched the dinghy for a land adventure. He was sitting in the front holding the davit line. I tell him “… do not let the line go until I say so…  I need to make sure the engine is started and good first..”   I speak clearly and project my voice loud. He hears me clearly… says “… yes okay…”  then 10 seconds later he let’s go..! Dinghy engine not started in the strong winds and we are drifting away…! He dropped the line because he needed  to check his cell phone in his pocket immediately..!

This is… new for me…  I have never met anyone with such a strong dopamine addiction that it literally controls him.

I fear that if he ever loses or damages his phone, or cannot find free wifi access 24/7… he might die on me, the addiction is so strong in him.

I have given him the best sailing education he could possibly ever find, and he is failing as a student. He is very smart… but so unfocused… he is the second worst student I have ever had. I have been repeating to him over and over again like I would for a retarded child to learn, yet still he cannot tie a simple knot. The ocean is a very serious place, it can and will kill us, break the boat, and mother nature has no forgiveness for stupidity or fools.

I have a crew that I will need to hover over and overwatch like a hawk. I need to spot and find his mistakes before mother does, before things break. This kid is going to stress me the fuck out for sure. Even if he looks you in the eyes while you speak, there is still only a 50/50 chance his brain is actually listening. Only a 50/50 chance his attention span will last long enough to focus on the task at hand and complete it, without fucking it up.

 

So the adventure will begin

with us two CHARACTERS…

 

Boat Projects

For WildChild to be ready to begin this huge epic adventure I want her in tip top shape. So besides being busy full time teaching my new baby crew, I am also spending every spare minute getting WildChild ready to go, knocking off things on the to-do list.

An interesting note related to the last blog about my fuel consumption. I still have no idea why the fuel gauge is not working but I decided to fill my tanks anyway. If you cannot read the fuel level best to start with a full tank. Well as it happens, I have only used 19 gallons of fuel in the last year and half of sailing…!   How is that for the sailing purist?

 

 

I have had a few sewing jobs to do lately. The D-ring that holds up the middle bridge piece between the dodger and the bimini ripped off in the Prickly bay roll last week. Using me speedy stitcher sail repair needle and line I fixed it quickly enough.

My front shade tarp has also developed a buncha long seem tears where the threads have failed. Fortunately I was spared that day of misery by a friend with a sewing machine onboard.

Another nasty problem I had to fix was that last sail here (  CLICK HERE   to see the video)   the sewage whale gusher pump broke!  Grrrr…. I knew immediately this would be a horrible and difficult project to beat.

 

 

Being the amazing Captain that I am, I realized years ago how critical this pump was for me, and had already bought a replacement pump in Nassau. The problem was accessing it under my bed was very difficult. It was very hard to remove the old one and I cut my hands up a lot, nail polish completely ruined     🙂

Ivan was sure I was crazy and this could not be done. He watched me curse swear and suffer for most of the day, but Captains do not understand defeat. It is not in our vocabulary. It was a very technical and difficult repair but 8 hours later… with blood dripping from my hands…

🙂    Lexi Wins…  !    🙂

 

Culture

If I were to say to you… describe your culture. You would stare at me blankly and not really have any idea what to say. Your culture is those normal natural things around you and in your life that everyone else also assumes and takes for granted without ever realizing it.

When you travel, you discover your own culture when it surprises you these things you assumed universal, are not. When you invite a stranger into your home from the other side of the planet you get to discover their culture and begin to see your own. Ivan and I are from two very different cultures and we are learning patience and tolerance for each other.

I know that my blogs often focus on conflicts or drama, because it is interesting to write about and read about. I have begun to worry though.. that for those of you living vicariously thru me, who perhaps have not traveled and had these experiences for yourselves, you might get the wrong impression of the local Grenada culture. Most of my blogs focus on cruising community things and not land life among the locals.

I want to correct this oversight.

Let me share with you my adventure story from yesterday…

I had returned to Woburn bay because I figured while I am still in Grenada, it would be a shame to leave without seeing the most famous cruiser places. There is a concrete dock in here, called the Woburn dock, which gives access to the local shore life. I have been hearing about this fabulous local restaurant right there called Taffy’s which serves proper british style fish and chips on Fridays. I wanted to check it out.

 

 

Also beside it there is a place called treasure trove. It is a used store marine Chandlery full of amazing stuff that sailors just love. I found a few treasures and a thousand other things I want but cannot afford and have no place to keep. When boats get abandoned down here or come to die, these people salvage all the good stuff to live on.

Then the most famous social cruiser place in all of Grenada is a little roadside bar up the hill and to the left called NimRods. There is always musicians there and jam sessions and social events going on there. We found it midday before the cool stuff started.

 

 

All the local people we met were always very… like… island culture… like chill.  Their culture is hard for tourists to see because generally us westerners move and think in such a fast high pressure pace. We tend to dominate and overwhelm local people and they let us talk until we get tired. They will listen patiently and with loving kindness, usually a friendly smile and helpful advice to follow.

To really get the wonderful local culture we have to slow down too. I have been out here long enough to get it. I have the stillness in my spirit now too. I see people as human like me, and I treat everyone like a human like me. I try not to overwhelm of dominate the local people. I just smile and listen, speak softly, be polite and they will open up to you.

If you are ever lost you can literally ask the nearest local person and there is a 99% chance they will help you. Just be chill and do not dominate them and you will discover they are a wonderful people with a very good culture. Aside from the hustlers in tourist areas I seldom have problems with local people. I actually enjoy their company and often prefer it to the other cruisers around me.

I have had dozens and dozens of wonderful encounters and conversations with local people that I seem to never speak about. The people of Grenada are wonderful generous and kind. They are well educated and very Christian based in their moral center.

Sorry I do not share this part more often…

my bad..

 

Letting the Adventure find us

So after this stuff above yesterday, I wanted to just kind of walk around and get some exercise and give the adventure time to find us. I wanted to explore the surrounding local community and see the place a little bit.

I told ivan I wanted to go up the hill and just explore around. He consented and followed me up the road. Ivan said he wanted to know if there was a local place where maybe he could buy some fresh fruits or vegetables. It seemed like a good plan and we began asking the local people we saw sitting around. Some very mellow local guy with short braided hair and smoking a joint was sitting on the side of the road.

I approached him and asked about the chance to maybe find my crew some fresh produce. He smiled at me, and in the local slow way, began sharing the information we needed.  “…yeah man…   tis no problm… see dat green building up dere… just go a few past it… on de left man… ya cant miss it…   she can hook you up… no worries girl… ” he says in his thick local accent.

We wandered up the hill and found the local convenience store (shack) he was referring to. The big local lady behind the counter was sitting down watchin her shows on da TV when we came in. Ivan full of his high energy fast paced dominance began to flood her with his words. She blinks and smiles then lifts an arm and mumbles “… yeah… dem rit dere… no.. rit behind you… no no… by you feet..” as Ivan has no idea what she is saying with her thick accent and is looking in the wrong place.

I smile… I get it… I get their culture.. I see ivan and his culture… and I enjoy the collision. There is much love and patience and tolerance shown by both sides. People from opposite sides of the earth. She did not actually have any fresh fruits or veg at the moment  “… cause de truck no come… was possed to come yet er day… but did ent come…” she explains apologetically.

Ivan is a little heart broken. He did not buy nearly enough food when I took him to provision at the grocery store just a week ago, and is already running out of food on the boat. This was his one chance for his super mega healthy dietary requirements to be met.

Defeated, Ivan is ready to just go back to the boat. I say I want to get some exercise and explore some more. We continue up the hill.

Unbeknownst to me… Ivan’s eyes are now scouting the local trees we are walking past. If he cannot buy fresh fruits he will find and pick them.

 

 

We are walking along up the hill, I am admiring the spectacular views of the bay below us when ivan suddenly gets excited and goes off the road. He goes over to a small local fruit tree in some guys front yard and starts looking at the green oranges he sees there. The local man, I later learned named Rock, is sitting below in his front porch watching us crackers invade his lawn.

Ivan sees him and starts hollering down to him…  “… sir… sir… are these green oranges…?   is this your tree…?    may I pick some fruit…?” he is as excited as a kid at Christmas. I am standing on the road shaking my head with amusement.

The local man, Rock is soo wonderful.. he is so kind and patient and tolerant of us he is just smiling away and happily offers to allow Ivan to pick a few fruits. He even suggests Ivan go over to a different tree where the fruits will be easier to reach. You can just imagine the scene.

Ivan picks a few of the local green sour oranges and is giving thanks profusely, he is so grateful. Then out of the Blue… Rock says…  “…if you want… you can go further up the road… it’s about a ten minute walk… near Whisper cove marina… and follow the signs for the Eco Garden. Its my Daughter that runs it… tell her I sent you… you can pick all the five fingers you want… they are in season now…” he says very helpfully.

Well wow… how kind is that..! I am sure that in other parts of the world invading someone’s lawn to pilfer their fruits would not be greeted with such love and kindness. But this kindness is actually Grenada culture.

We get a bit lost but wander around and eventually begin to see signs for this mysterious place called Eco Garden… we keep following.

 

 

I lose Ivan as he takes off without me and disappears thru some trees and I lose him. I sit patiently awaiting his return and I am petting the local dogs that have come for attention. Eventually I am faced with either leaving without him… or wandering thru the yards of the local houses to try and find him.

I find him behind the house in the back behind the bushes and he is talking to a local lady, Rock’s Daughter Rashida. Here Ivan some tall lanky foreigner wanders into her yard and she greets him like a long lost relative. She spent like 20 minutes teaching him about the local agriculture and history of the local plants. She gives him a bag and lets him fill it with all the star fruit (apparently they call the five fingers locally) he can eat. And all for free…!

Like wow… how amazing is that…?

And this is local Grenada culture, this is the spirit of these people.

This is their wonderful culture that I have neglected to tell you about.

***

OKAY … Big RED WARNING flag here. My American Friends should stop reading now, you are not likely to enjoy this next part and I saved it for the end to make it easier for you to skip. 

Also… to be clear… I know that half of Americans are the nicest people you will ever meet… and only half of them are fucking poorly educated stupid animals. 

 

American Culture

It was like 10 days ago, back in December, Ivan had only been with me about 2-3 days so far. We were back in Prickly bay and between sailing school I wanted to go to the Budget marine to buy something. Then I took Ivan into the boat yard to look at and study boat keels for a while, and we returned to the dinghy at the budget dock.

We were minding our own business and had not bothered with anyone else. No conflicts anywhere, peaceful day.

 

 

We had untied the dinghy and set it adrift while I tried to start the dinghy engine. Mysteriously it would not start. We were only maybe 20 feet away from the plastic dock and the winds were light and of no concern as we drifted slowly away.

Walking down the dock is these two middle aged American dudes and a kid. I do not know them, had never met them before, never spoken to them before, complete strangers.

As they are walking down the dock carrying their bags they are staring at us. Then the bigger guy kinda spits out in a snarky tone  “…WHY DON’T YA BLOG ABOUT IT..!” as he continues walking past. Understand that I am an empath, I can read a lot into tone of voice facial expressions and body language. Although these were complete strangers to me, I could sense some kind of malevolent tone in the snarky comment. It struck me as odd but I did not respond.

Ivan kind of looked at me like what was that about? I said “…don’t know, never seen them before..” and I continued trying to start my little dinghy engine.

These American men then go to the end of the dock and load up into their $20,000 dinghy with the steering wheel and bench seats. Then the big guy starts just yelling at me from like 50 feet away. I am a little shocked and unsure what this ambush is about? Why are these American suddenly yelling at me.

I do not remember all the words exactly but something to the effect of…

“… if you are going to blog about things you should get your facts straight…”

“ …. you are such a crazy bitch… you are so crazy…  ”

“… I am your bully…. that’s right I am your bully… ”

“ …. that’s slander and you can be held liable in court…”  such an American stupid way of thinking… lawyers rule them.

and other stuff he seemed to want to hurl at me. I do not know them… and they do not know me…   so yelling at a stranger and pretending you know them is a rather childish and uncivilized thing to do. The ambush of hatred and meanness seems childish and silly to me. BUT… they are Americans…  and Americans can be like this sometimes…

It occurred to me he might be the man who was doing high speed circles around my yacht in Woburn bay a month ago… or he is at least referencing this blog somehow.

By now I understood I was in the crosshairs of an American Ambush of ignorance from this testosterone filled Neanderthal and I stood up and yelled back…   “… you are completely right… I am crazy and you are Obnoxious…  go away…”  he is not the first ignorant animal I have found in life.

Ivan is just shocked at this spontaneous event and says  “… these guys must be Americans… so rude… what is wrong with them..? ” with a universal comment on the world wide well known obvious. Americans can be pushy ignorant and obnoxious all over the world. Even my Croatian crew knows of this behaviour.

The incident itself was minor… but it got me to thinking.

For the poorly educated people who read my blogs… in case these ideas were not obvious to you…

A blog is…    a diary… a completely subjective version of reality, a single perspective among many. A story designed to be entertaining to read. A place where the human experience can be shared in all its subjective glory.

A blog is not… a news report nor a scientific report… it is not claiming to report any truth or facts. A blog is not selling you anything. It is not a business nor commercial endeavor. It should not be held up to the standards of a scientific paper or a journalistic piece.

This dumb American man seemed upset I “got my facts wrong” but a blog is not a fact based representation of truth. Expecting facts from a blog is just stupid. Expecting a blog to hold up to the standards of journalism long since dead in America is just ridiculous.

ALSO….  Nobody forced you to read it. You have always been free to read it or not read it. Blogs are intended for like minded people or friends and family to read. When you read a blog, or learn about a famous person thru similar media… it does not mean you are now friends with the author, you do not know the author, they are still a stranger to you even though you feel like you know them.

For some reason people who read my blogs and books feel like they know me like a personal friend. Honestly… you do not. I publicly present only certain illusions of myself… but it is by no means who I am.  Reading my stuff does not mean you know me personally… I am still a stranger to you.

Yelling at strangers for what they write in their diary is so STUPID and CRAZY it is almost ignorance beyond measure.

It is like this American objects to my right to freedom of speech? and my right to have my own opinions…?  my right to express my thoughts and opinions..?   Like he needs to control and dominate me for seeing the world differently than he does…? Americans really hate freedom. Their American Culture is so against freedom lately and is so intolerant.

But what can we expect from a society that has underfunded education for decades. They are all collectively getting dumber.

To the millions of wonderful kind intelligent educated Americans out there I apologize deeply for how your entire culture gets perceived by the world, as represented by the idiots among you.

But you need to fix this from the inside, free university education for everyone, starting 2 decades ago.

Sorry this got so long people…. sorry it got preachy at the end.

Tomorrow we begin the sailing adventure going ever northward.

 

 

Cheers….

hugs love and kindness to everyone…

even the dumb Americans out there…

Wild Captain Lexi

 

… the powerful …