Cruising_World_2016-06-07

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june/july 2016

cruisingworld.com

all. It was not just a home and boat and
lifestyle. She gave me the confi dence that
I could do almost anything if I had my
wife, Carolyn, there to help. (Five other
boats were built at Ferro Cement Boats,
but only the aptly named Perseverance,
many years later, saw the water.)
I’d built Carlotta to sail around the
world, and she proved a seaworthy,
seakindly craft. But rum was 84 cents a
bottle on St. Thomas, and life got in the
way. Our daughter, Roma Orion, was born.
I sailed every regatta on every famous boat
in the islands, from San Juan to Trinidad,
for over a decade. But at 6:23 a.m. on
September 17, 1989, Hurricane Hugo, a
Category 4 storm, forced us to swim away
from a fl oundering Carlotta in 120 knots of
breeze.
There is nothing quite like wrapping
your 7-year-old child’s passport in a plastic
bag, duct-taping that plastic bag around
her chest, and then jumping into the
frothing water with her in your arms.
In the wake of the storm, I was
in shock. I was homeless, boatless,
penniless, jobless, and farther away from
circumnavigating than ever.
I had to shake myself, and shake hard.
It was time to get serious about life. Well,
as serious as a salt-intoxicated sea gypsy
can be.
A few months before the hurricane, a

sailor had asked me to survey his boat, a
lovely Sparkman & Stephens-designed
38-foot sloop built by Hughes in Canada.
Alas, it had been driven onto a reef
during the same storm at Mary’s Point,
St. John. The owner had nearly drowned
in the process, and then decided
instead to drown his sorrows in the
liquor lockers of all the wrecked yachts
surrounding him. The result was that he
had been airlifted back to New York City
and rehab.
I called him up and off ered to help
salvage his boat, but he turned me down.
“That boat almost killed me,” he said. “I
never want to see her again.”
“But she’ll just be pounded to bits in
the surf and looted as well,” I told him.
“So be it,” he said.
I eventually gave him $3,000 for her
salvage rights. Once again, Carolyn and
I had grinders in our hands and were
tackling a project that a sailor with any

sense or cents would not be involved in.

What we did have were strong backs

and fi erce determination. Aboard what

was to become Wild Card, we would sail

around the world twice, for an initial cost

of 4 cents a mile!

We owned Wild Card for 23 years, sailed

her almost 100,000 ocean miles, and sold

her for 10 times what we paid. But my

most powerful memory of her was wading

out that fi rst time and wondering if I

should bet my entire future on something

that had fi sh swimming inside.

In 2009, we were surprised to fi nd

out that the primitive island of Yap had

broadband Internet access. This allowed

my nerd wife to go off keyboard surfi ng.

“Did you hear that Jeff at Amazon has

invented an MP3 player for books?” she

asked. I ignored her, preferring to surf real

waves, not cyber ones. But she wouldn’t

give up. “Can I contact him and send him

some of your writing?” she asked.

“Sure,” I said. “Just leave me out of it,

OK?”

Damn it if my nerdy wife didn’t earn us

a pile of money — and without me fully

understanding what she was doing. Don’t

you hate it when that happens?

One day back in the Caribbean, boat

Antares Yachts

843.725.8412

http://www.liveantares.com

The world’s best

liveaboard

Charleston, USA

Buenos Aires, AR

ON WATCH

We owned Wild Card

for 23 years, sailed her

almost 100,000 ocean

miles, and sold her for 10

times what we paid.