On Desire

Morning of Friday May 28, three weeks after the original launch date. If I can get on the water in the next few days, I’ll likely be sailing into late August early September. I’ve still got a 3 month window, September is an entire extra month. I may have to skip the wedding in California and cancel my summer guests though. It’s all just blow and bluster – there’s no telling what will happen.

This morning I’ll raise the mast and get her on the water, then disassemble and into / onto the van for the portage over to the big lake. Finish packing and go.

I admit to feeling a little daunted by all this. There’s nothing accidental in building up the momentum – it’s a decisive effort, a force of will. The journey could remake me, that’s really why I’m going. Dipping into my media feed to catch the news of the day, I feel the call to activate. I am ready to live my gifts, to be what the earth needs. My time has arrived.

Yet there’s the inertia of the familiar. Leaving behind what I am for a deeper experience, even a more enlivened and capable Dan Kelly – it’s scary. Also, It kinda sucks to vacate my happy little beach squat for the whole summer.

Ha! Well, there’s not going to be a terrible accident that provides an honorable retreat. Destiny is my decision.

Ready for shakedown

Oops! Rudder trouble...

I started the staging area in March and completed it yesterday with the help of nefs and their pa. Steve zapped the stumps from the two big poplar trees. Jonathan, Patrick and I moved the logs to the lake to create sand catching jettys and wove the branches into a Andrew Goldsworthy inspired fence. I had to explain the purpose of the fence twice… “when you bring a girl here, she’ll be more likely to take off all her clothes if she thinks the neighbors can’t see.” That’s a plan we can all get behind.

We saved as many little trees as possible, especially the dainty white pines saplings. I can transplant them later, for now they fit right under the boat.

I didn’t have a mast bearing so we didn’t get the mast up. I’m checking and packing gear today and will make a pilgrimage to Traverse City to pick up odds and ends. With luck I’ll have Hello World out for a test sail this afternoon.

White pine saplings shelter under the trampoline

The wild beach with freshly deployed poplar jettys. No sand yet...

Sarah Castle recently tweeted an New Scientist article by Deborah Mackenzie, Living in Denial, Why Sensible People Reject the Truth. This may have been a continuation of our exchange over my Stephen Hawkin inspired ET conquistador proposal, so I’ve been thinking about it, teasing out my ideas. It’s a sketch, perhaps once I am on the water I’ll elaborate on these themes.

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There are many ways to ask a question. People test hypotheses, initiate conversations, open themselves to experience, devise tools for discovery, make myths, wonder without words and relax into knowing.

Science yields reliable predictions about the future. Compassion reveals the feelings of others. Mindfulness is an inquiry into the possibilities of the present. Living history is an exploration of the past from suppressed or forgotten perspectives, as demonstrated by Howard Zinn and John Hendrik Clarke.

Our experience of reality is determined by how we ask. We manipulate and fabricate reality with questions. ‘What do we want?’ can often be entangled with ‘What do we want to know?’ Know in the sense of both having pragmatic information and in the sense of wordless rapport, whether sexual, spiritual, aesthetic…

Science is one way of knowing. It’s emphasis on prediction has enabled our amazing technological civilization. We begin to realize though that the questions science poses cannot insure our survival or even guide us to joy.

Edward Bernays applied the theories of Sigmund Freud to develop the most destructive force yet unleashed against the earth – the consumer. Industrial productivity enabled by scientific inquiry has broken the climate. We literally cannot live with science alone. That’s Koyaanisquatsi – crazy life, life out of balance.

Science has rubbed out the authoritarian gods – and filled their shoes. Just one more rigid system that must not be transgressed, *cannot* be transgressed – it’s the law. The law of gravity, conservation of energy, etc. It’s impossible to step outside these laws… until our understanding shifts and we find those laws were just special cases, applicable only so long as x and y were true. Are we really so arrogant to think that our understanding is nearly complete?

Rather than demean or ignore other methods of inquiry, scientists should look for allies. Anyone who is intensely curious, anyone who is rigorous with inquiry – whatever the method –  is potentially an ally. Openness to the idea of questions could be the basis for unity. Questions should not be evaluated by whether they can fit the dominant mode of inquiry but whether they are interesting, useful and even fun.

Conspiracy theorists attempt to break free of the gravity well of conventional thinking. They express a pragmatic and savvy skepticism of authority. They are entertaining. Not all conspiracy theories are bosh either, conspiracies really happen.

If we accept that Saddam Hussein had nothing to do with 911 and that he didn’t have significant weapons of mass destruction, why did we go to war with Iraq? Was it just a big mistake or can we use the C word here? I remember a lot of misleading imagery and dysfunctional reportage in the media back then. I remember fabrications by authorities and leaders. Who’s ready to step up and name that animal?

We can’t survive if we limit inquiry or act only on the authority of experts. Rather than deny the irrational we ought to find out what it has to offer. If both the rational and non-rational are our allies, we won’t be at war with ourselves.

***

Update

New Scientist is doing a whole series on Living in Denial. Three days ago Michael Fitzpatrick contributed with Questioning Science isn’t Blasphemy. Dr Fitzpatrick may not agree with what I’ve asserted here, but I appreciate his bringing some balance. I had read Why Sensible People Reject the Truth weeks ago and was inspired to try and contrast my position, to articulate what seemed important. I have to thank Deborah Mackenzie, her assertion that folks who don’t agree with orthodoxy are mentally ill, she really had me going. I hadn’t reread her article until tonight and whoa! The generalization that “all denialists see themselves as underdogs fighting a corrupt elite” could as easily be applied to activists and reformers.

Here’s a conspiracy theory for you -  There’s rumors that the Tea Party movement is corporate funded. If Ran Paul is the best those folks can muster, then maybe the whole point is to discredit dissident movements in general by equating them to the Tea Party.  You wanna take back your government? Aw, go join the Tea Party!

There’s a terrible tragedy at this end of this post, so if you’re the weepy type close your browser and check back tomorrow.

How to glue pennies to the bottom of a Hobie Cat, the completion of Hello World’s armor deployment.

Including the 8 layers of powdered aluminum running along the entire keel, I wanted plate metal to protect the hulls where they would start to run aground. Matching hull curvature with a single sheet of metal seemed daunting. I imagined a corner or an edge of a single sheet being peeled back in an impact – nearly impossible to fix in the wilds.  In contrast, if the metal sheath consisted of many small plates or tiles then an impact might tear away one or two tiles and leave the surrounding tiles intact. The tile approach was inspired by the space shuttle’s thermal protection system. I had sheets of scrap copper laying around, but I didn’t really like the idea of cutting them into little squares. Pennies are just about the right size, and they are readily available everywhere I’ll be.

The copper in US pennies comes from the Keweenaw Peninsula, which is the thumb of Michigan’s Upper Peninsula. US pennies minted on or after 1982 have a zinc core coated in a thin condom of copper. Before 1982, pennies were about 95% copper. A roll of pre 1982 pennies is worth $.50 cents as coin, but the value of the copper is $1.00. In doing this project I found that about 10-30% of pennies in circulation are  pre 1982. That means that if you had $1000 worth of pennies, you’d actually have about $1100-$1300 dollars. Of course you’d have to melt and sell the older ones, which would probably get the Secret Service on your ass. It might not be a bad idea to sort and stash your pre 1982 pennies in a safe place until such time as the federal government collapses and you can melt them without fear of arrest.

A preliminary cleaning – bathing the pennies in dilute muriatic acid	Rinse
Dry	Remove all oxidation to attach
In formation with attach side down – these need to be flipped	Tape fixes the pennies in formation. Slicing along the edge of the rows so they’ll articulate and follow the curvature of the hulls
ready for pennies	West Systems 404, resin and fast hardner

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The rentry system is complete. The tiles on the starboard hull had drifted off the edge slightly,  but otherwise looking good!  Hello World’s hulls were almost ready – all that remained to do on Sunday was hatch installation and caulking the pylons.

I use plywood props to support the hulls to keep them upright during hatch work. A couple of nails where the plywood meets the picnic table keep them from slipping. I had the plywood in place to support the port hull and was about to tack the last sheet down when the hull rolled away and almost fell off the table onto the concrete. Though I was able to catch it, I didn’t save the day.  It had rolled right over the claw hammer and broken the fiberglass in two spots. Fahgk!

Quel damage!	The broken fiberglass removed.
The pressure from the claw almost busted the inner skin, note the slight shattering in the center	At least the hatches are in

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I could have fixed the holes right then and there if I had more of the magic West Systems 404 powder but West Marine had already closed. So I am off to Traverse City this morning and will walk in just as they open the doors.

Getting ready for my swim this morning, here’s what’s waiting.

Maybe I’m still dreaming…

Yesterday afternoon I tested both the Aquapac underwater camera solution and my Gul skin out wetsuit with a swim to the blue line.

A classic tao situation. All the cheese and yogurt I’ve been eating is starting to show – too much repair work and not enough expression of magnificent physicality. I couldn’t run yesterday morning ’cause my calf was inexplicably crampy again. I was also thinking about my Gul skin out wetsuit because Scott of Sailsport Marine scared me. Just before he sold me rivets for the jib tracks, he said “Dude, you’re crazy,” and “That water is cold.” He’s right, it is and will be for a month or two more. The prudent move would be to test my wetsuit and what better way than with a rigorous 15 minute round trip to the blue line? (computer, phone). An adventure just before sunset.

Success! It was cold certainly but I could probably last an hour in the water, plenty of time to right a flipped Hello World. Pulling off the wetsuit afterward I realized that my original justification of the need for cheese wasn’t self deceptive gluttony after all. A little extra fat might be a smart start. So the cramping calf, the cheese, the wetsuit repairs, the dire warnings of my local Hobie dealer… I just went with it all and lo – enlightenment, bliss.

I did it again just now without the camera and with Five Fingers instead of booties. Water temperature is 49F.

The cold could fire off ear infections so alcohol is a must. My hands were scary cold when I started but were buzzing with warmth at the blue line. Hallucination or superior metabolism? I’ll definitely get some gloves to complete my neoprene ensemble. I’ve also got to replace the Gul logo on my chest – maybe I can get the URL on there somehow.

Started to run Indian Trails this morning when the strange cramp in my starboard calf returned with a vengeance. I’m getting fat, now what? I walked out of the woods and onto the dunes to try a little tai chi in the sand, but couldn’t even manage half a short form. Looking to the Big Lake, wanna get out there.

That’s how much fun I’m having right now. Hello World’s first finish coat was applied this morning. Speaking of Malcolm X (today’s his birthday, he’d be 85) here’s an insidious bit of racial marketing I came across.

The VOCs from the Interlux Brightside White paint are intense!  As replacement filters for my old respirator are hard to find I decided to buy a new respirator. My local Ace Hardware stocked several models from AO Safety. They all used the same filters and ranged in price from high $20 to mid $40. The highest priced had a picture of a serious looking middle aged white male with iron gray hair. The lowest price looked like this…

Is that subtle or what? Here’s the embarrassing part – I instinctively reached for the expensive one first because I assumed it would provide better protection, until I noticed that the filters were identical. Was I choosing based on price (inference of quality), or racial affinity?

I ended up buying the brown people respirator. You know what? It pretty much sucks. After painting for couple of hours this morning I had a headache. WTF? Tell me there aren’t aliens running the planet. You can sell us the crappy respirators, but you can’t kill us.

Here’s Hugh Hamilton’s show Talk Back on WBAI FM New York for May 19, 2010, (local archive is here). There’s fundraising during the first 10 minutes or so, but after that are excerpts from some of El Hajj Malik el Shabazz’s most amazing speeches.

Here’s the back page from the vintage Hobie Cat brochure that came with Hello World. Hobie had an intriguing angle on catamarans in 1979 – camping. Perhaps being a subsidiary of the Coleman Company had something to do with it. I don’t know whether this was a significant factor in sales back then, but this photo sure made an impression on me. Sailing Around Lake Michigan was not in my head when I bought her – so let’s hear it for the power of antique lifestyle marketing!

As the groovy copy explains, Hobie 16s can navigate very shallow water and can even be sailed right onto the beach – sandy preferably. They can go where few other boats can with minimal impact on the environment. That’s why Hello World is ideal for wilderness camping – in theory.

A spiel reminiscent of Adam Curtis's Century of the Self documentary series.

In practice, rocky shallows and sandy shores scrape away the hull bottoms. An lightly loaded Hobie bounces off rocks, deflecting the force of impact and minimizing damage. Add tents, sleeping bags and other cargo (like tripods and scuba tanks) and inertia increases, making direct impact and serious damage more likely. Landing a loaded Hobie on a rocky beach requires a slow approach. When the water is shallow enough to wade, it’s best to get off and walk her in, off load the bags, place Bao longs (solid fenders) under her hulls and then roll her up.

Even with such careful handling Hello World’s bottoms were pretty chewed up after last September’s trial run. To survive 3 months requires armor.

The highly worn areas along the bottom have already been protected with 9 layers of epoxy mixed with 10% powdered aluminum, an additive sold by West Systems for abrasion resistance.

Powdered aluminum is also a component of thermite – a steel cutting explosive used in building demolitions. Traces of thermite like residues have been detected in the dust from the Twin Towers. It took me two days to armor up the keel with the powdered aluminum, and each batch I mixed was a sort of meditation on dark history. My two beautiful fish, the feet of Hello World shod in sleek gray gloss. Perfect paradox.

Applying armor

Originally, Patrick and I had discussed installing thin steel plate along the keels. To conform to her complex curves, the plates could either be curved to match her contours or be placed as tiles, like on the space shuttle. In a worst case scenario, tiles could be torn away without taking a great chunk of hull with them.

Lining both keels with steel would have added a lot of weight – so aluminum powder was the choice. The most vulnerable section is between the bow and the mid section, the point of first impact below the water line. I repaired damage there when I bought Hello World and smashed it again myself last September.

Armor detail on port hull. Roller texture will be abraded soon enough.	Port hull from inside. The most vulnerable area is defined by the width of the filing cabinets

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I’m currently investigating plating the most vulnerable bow/mid section with pre 1982 pennies, which are 95% copper.

…and by the way, Happy Birthday to Me!

When Hello World came down from the rafters I was dismayed to find she was still wet. Before lofting her last October I had drained the standing water from the hulls. Though I suspected her fiberglass / foam sandwich was still saturated, I assumed that 6 months hanging in a warm house would dry her out.

I had forgotten about the 10 lbs of sand that had washed into the port hull during the Point Betsie surprise. The water did migrate out of the sandwich but rather than evaporating it mixed with the sand and pooled. There was about a half gallon in there!

The starboard hull had been breached, probably during the emergency landing to secure Zilliax’s bike. I had drilled the damage clear so it could drain – which it did – drip, drip, drip all winter. Yet the sandwich was still saturated when I opened the hatch hole.

Removing the wet sand and facilitating evaporation required hatches to be installed in both hulls. Love suffused my methodology. Deployment of the other essential modification – keel armor – was accompanied by a melange of emotions and associations, including the events of 9/11…

Why does powdered aluminum remind me of September 11, 2001?

I know the journey has started when I don’t know when it’s going to start.

The moment when the handcrafted Hello World slides into surf cannot be predicted. I’ve been back in the water since the year flipped. I’ve shared my process nearly every day for the last month. Even with the dust of her body clinging to my clothes, her curves all atangle and in disarray, we search. The important part is how we start – not when. This project celebrates assembly after all,  the awakening of the way.

August 09 same thing. Time was a fiction,  deadlines a conceit. Jackie Ankerson made it plain yesterday. Do I want the sun to fly across the sky, am I in a hurry to get to my grave?

Here’s how I’m changing. No time on wind river, (computer / phone) she’s ready when she’s ready. I too may only be half baked / boiled – though last night’s tub could have been the hottest ever.

Now that we’ve settled that…

While returning from yet another pilgrimage to my local West Systems and Interlux dealer, I realized that I only had to have interesting conversations. I only have to interview people who fascinate me. Does any part of this adventure need to suck? Not on purpose!

The way to make this project (and life in general) amazing is to dare to be who I am. If this movie is going to be watchable then I have to push through to me. Naked on camera – glorious, confused, grinning, dashingly scruffy, fierce, introspective, full of shit, fabulous!

You’re either down with the Dan or not. All those Facebook scribblers – pshaw! Why, I’ve been gushing my secrets without a by-your-leave since before Mark Zuckerberg was cozying up to the shadow government or stealing his clients’ ideas. Who remembers tractor feed paper?

Look, I know nobody’s reading all this, ok? I’ve got better things to do than read my ramblings too. All this bluster is a sort of encryption. God is always in disguise, otherwise there can be no cosmic game. You get it now? If not – no worries! It’s likely the Rev. Victoria Weinstein didn’t even make it this far – and she’s a divinity professional.

Despite precautions, when I crawl into bed I feel the prickle of tiny glass fibers on my naked skin.  I mingle with Hello World, we become one flesh.

Hello World is more than my production platform, transport and home. The ‘boat as planet’ analogy is especially relevant – if my boat’s messed up, I might die.

Do I mythologize when I say it’s a cinch for me to feel her presence?  Like me, she is made of star stuff. A lot of energy and intention went into her design and manufacture. In her 31 years of existence she’s been a facilitator of much joy and excitement for the Vigland family. She’s been cared for with pride and guiltily neglected. Now she’s collaborating with a mad genius and his wild tribe on a world saving Search for Sustainable Civilizations.

When during this sequence of events did sentience arise? Is she alive and deserving of love only because I’ll be counting on her?

It’s fun to wonder about. What I can report first hand is our rapport, especially when sailing. She moves with and speaks to me, she is aware and involved.

Mere cybernetic transference? Advanced visualization technique? Dan smiles….

What does all this have to do with today’s progress report? The fiberglass work is stretching because this boat is a being.  I have to do my best by her. Attend, please.

When hatching hulls, the standard procedure is to cut a hole and screw the hatch on. That’s not for me. The Viking hatch I bought from Murrays doesn’t mate well with the surface of the hull and removing structure compromises Hello World’s strength and integrity.

My solution is to create a ring of new structure around the hatch hole and build up the hull surface for a nearly perfect fit. This manuever made an afternoon’s project into 4 days!

Love keeps Serenity in the air says Malcolm Reynolds. I’m so down with that. Knowing I gave Hello World my best attention will keep me grinning when we’re miles from shore and a crazy wind is howling. I’ll remember that I loved her enough to take the time, and she’ll fly true.

A cup of ginger tea before donning the yellow hazmat suit and starting the day’s fiberglass fun. The Brunton inverter is whirring away somewhat creakily as it charges this iPhone. Most of the gear has already been checked for solid operation, the Brunton solar power components are among the last on the list.

How am I changing? I’m preparing for nomadic life, for wandering within. It took Loreen Niewenhuis over a year to walk around the Big Lake, so the distances involved are imaginable, human. The scheduled duration of our sail Around Lake Michigan is about 3 months.

I get to go faster than Loreen because I’ve got technological infrastructure and a larger carbon footprint. Though powered by paddle and sail alone, Hello World is an industrial child. She owes her existence to oil drilling and petrochemistry, (polyester resins, dacron sails, nylon rope) not to mention mining and smelting, (aluminum frame and mast, steel fittings). Add in the filmmaking electronics we are carrying (rare earths, heavy metals) and suddenly this project isn’t quite so bright green.

The price for 3 months of environmental documentary in a romantic mileau is a diminishment of our collective destiny. I kill all of us a little by making this trip. I’m not an impact idiot either, I work to minimize the consequences of my daily actions – fairly small footprint as far as 1st world lifestyles go. Even so, the way our civilization is set up, I can’t help but hurt.

Jor-El packed his infant son into a spaceship and sent him from the doomed planet Krypton. Moses was placed in a reed basket and launched on the Nile. The stories keep coming back. We make another variation today – an artifact of industry launched to transcend industry by reminding us of what we already know. Into the shadows to search for light. I am the man who asks the child’s questions.

Sorting and packin

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Dreams of flying last night. A decisive ignorance of gravity and intense experience of remembering.  When I’d stretch into a laughing loft or a lazy backflip I’d feel a body rush / energy shiver flash from my chest. I kept thinking – I’ve done this countless times before. I’m dreaming… but this is real.

Flying is fun but what felt the most amazing was remembering. This dream came from the same place as the perfect attention / rapture vision I had with Jon and Laura. It’s the reality behind the waking state, what I’m really doing here. Transparency. I keep seeing thru – for which I am grateful.

I’m in the tub now as Tuesday fades. I’ve got the iPhone in it’s waterproof bag so as to catch up on my reports. Fiberglass repair halted yesterday when I cut the hatch hole for the port hull and found the foam sandwich soaked. Basically a winter of hanging in a warm house didn’t dry Hello World completely. Not only does extra water add weight, but the existing fiberglass structure needs to be totally dry before new glass will bond to it.

Port hull has yet to opened, starboard hull hatch ready for sanding and shaping

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It’s May and all – but a snow shower is not impossible. That might be why Shop and Save is still stocking pure calcium chloride.

Calcium chloride can suck enough water out of frozen air to dissolve and form ice melting brine. I sealed 5 open ziplock bags full of calcium chloride inside the hull. In theory, the interior humidity will drop and the dry air will suck water out of the foam and fiberglass walls. I’ve checked and the walls are much drier while the plastic bags are slick with condensation. Did I mention my high school chemistry and physics grades sucked?

Port hull filled with calcium chloride

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While the inexorable laws of science cranked away, I picked up my cargo plates from Chuck Hunt of Northern Welding Specialties. Although some of the plates need a little rubber mallet encouragement, they fit fine and seem to be an ideal solution.

These stainless steel plates slip under the lip of the hull…	… enabling straps to cross the top of the hull and keep cargo secure.

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I also bit the bullet and ordered West Systems 420 aluminum powder to armor the hull bottoms. It should arrive tomorrow afternoon from Bay City, Michigan via UPS ground. With a little luck the repairs will be wrapped by Thursday and ready for touch-up paint.

After this much needed bath I’ll be updating the inventory and taking pictures. There have been a host of minor snafus, to wit… The big tripod won’t fit in the Pelican 1720 cases unless it’s disassembled. The new dive light takes AAA batteries and not AA, which breaks my battery standard. I’ve got to return the extra iPhone bag because there’s no camera window. These are all DK errors, but I’ve aced so many other challenges I can’t complain. WordPress for the iPhone is DOA, let’s trust a reload will fix that.

The 1720 cases that will be strapped to the top of the hulls. The big tripod is to the right of the silver scuba tank.

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The longer I stay the shorter my summer, so I really do have to get out of Dodge ASAP. Folks ask me – are u close to leaving? I’d like to think so, but there are more interesting questions… eg – As launch approaches, how are you changing Mr Dan Kelly? Ah! Ask me, go on… I dare ya!

The hulls upright and ready for hatch work	View towards Crystal Lake
Close up on starboard hull hatch opening before sanding	ready for paint and installation of the hatch
Cracking at the pylons cleared and filled with 404	Stump crack healed and ready for fairing

Places not managed by humans thrive. What does that tell us? The idea of management is inherently flawed. When we see ourselves as apart and other we become the blight.

Learn from the way, the wilds. Become rather than command.

The mad wasichus wanted the yellow metal, trading mythic cyclical abundance for it’s flash and glitter. A thought contagion sterilizing the future.

If conquistador ETs are just a little far fetched, then let’s try virulent memes. Imagine ideas that can infect and replicate. Imagine an idea that can shut off our drive to survive, like bio weapons shutting down our immune systems. We know ideas flow through culture like breeze through trees. What if ideas evolved too? What if an idea was alive… and toxic? Eek!

What would a cognitive immune system look like? To have tasted the yellow metal madness and recovered. Building immunity to an intriguing idea, even rejecting a complex meme synergy – an entire culture.

Folks misbehaving might be the cognitive immune system at work, attempting to throw off the infection. A hallucinatory fever, madness against madness. Burning off the bad ideas.

Is there such a thing as mental medicine? Can we develop a serum, an infusion, a protocol?

Analogies are fun.

“Our long years of negotiations with foreign countries… have yielded no results this far. With the oil revenues we could meet our entire budget and combat poverty, disease, and backwardness among our people. Another important consideration is that by the elimination of the power of the British company, we would also eliminate corruption and intrigue, by means of which the internal affairs of our country have been influenced. Once this tutelage has ceased, Iran will have achieved its economic and political independence.”

Iranian Prime Minister Mosaddegh explaining why he wanted to nationalize the Anglo-Iranian Oil Company. A CIA and MI6 coup removed him from power and the Anglo Iranian Oil Company became British Petroleum or BP.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mohammad_Mosaddegh

http://www.democracynow.org/ (05-06-10 end of show)

Are we ready? Not quite yet. Fiberglass repairs will take another few days. An ordering snafu has delayed the arrival of some gear. Chuck is fabricating cargo plates that need to be tested. This weekend’s weather forecast is not beach friendly.

It’s official! Launch has been pushed back to May 15. This Saturday’s party is canceled.

Progress is otherwise stellar. Dan Kelchak did a beautiful job on the Larrivee and It’s first coat of armor is on. The body tone still seems to be quite bright. The 1720 Pelican cases are ideal for both guitar and the new 30 cubic ft scuba tank. Winslow’s self silencing torus has arrived and it’s voice is reminiscent of indonesian gamelan and himalayan monasteries.

Here are some fiberglass components fresh from their molds. The collar is intended to reinforce the hull access ports. Note the black stitching showing through where the strips of glass cloth were sewn together – Patrick’s idea. The 5 foot strip was saturated with resin and then wrapped around a circular form to form about 1/4″ thickness. The S shaped bit is a casting of the hull lip and was passed on to Chuck to be used as a guide for the stainless steel cargo plates.

The Larrivee with armor plate. The overlapping edges have to be carefully sanded flush with the guitar’s body.

Winslow’s fabulous torus. Loud! Movie…

Hello World in the rain. Not quite dry dock.

Driving in to Traverse City for another round of errands. Fiberglass repairs are in process. Could wrap primary hull repairs this evening, with fairing and paint by Wednesday (2 days). That’s when I’ll decide whether to launch as planned or push it back.

Here’s today’s to do…

West Marine – 206 hardener (just in case)
Chuck or other fabricator – build cargo plates
Dan Kelchak – Larrivee pickup
Scuba north – 30 cu tank fits Pelican 1720?
Ace Hardware on Front St – sander heads and disks
Oryana – lunch
Aluminum powder?

Woke up with a big happy after an 11 hour crash. About 8:30 pm last night I started nodding and had to lay down. Could have been the wine and lasagna… or just the turnings of mystery.

I clarified my extra-terrestrial conquistador theory to Kari yesterday when she brought over lunch. White euros weren’t themselves aliens by and large, they were just the first to come under alien influence. The white euros established colonies as unwitting agents of ETs, vanquishing native cultures through chicanery and bio-weapons.

This discussion flows from Stephen Hawking’s recent suggestion that maybe we shouldn’t be advertising our presence to the cosmos as we might attract cosmic conquistadors… and end up like the Aztecs or the Incas.

IMHO, it’s not an issue. The Aztecs and Incas didn’t broadcast on shortwave and invite the smelly Spanish to come lay a can of whup ass on ‘em, they got “discovered”. Likewise, we don’t have to worry about attracting space pirates to Earth, they’re already here. That’s why the dominant culture is locked on apocalypse and folks are conditioned to kill themselves. We’ve been infiltrated and double crossed… and most of us have no clue. The best attack is the one the enemy never notices.

Yep, I’m out of the closet. Conspiracy nut – don’t tell me you’re surprised?!

What does this have to do with sailing and sustainability? Most humans really are human but are tranced out, especially regarding their self interest. Using the conquistador analogy, there are certainly way more humans on earth than space invaders. We humans can wake up to what really matters – like a robust global life support system. Global life support is our number one native priority. Anyone who advocates otherwise has an ET’s arm up their shirt, yanking their yack strings.

Sustainability starts with reminding each other who we really are.

Chief Seattle said that the white man’s way was the end of living and the beginning of survival. Now it’s unclear if most folks even know how to survive. Remembering how seems like a great place to start.

By the way, we’ll probably never see a full on space invader until we’re damn close to taking our planet back. So just assume everyone you meet is an authentic earth native. Beyond the raving and occlusion, we can find a way to be a family again.