On Desire

After 19 hours of round trip travel, Hello World has returned home. The plan was to put her on a trailer, but a snafu in the delivery of a hitch kit for the Honda Odyssey meant an unacceptable delay. After measuring the van’s interior yesterday morning, I determined that I could grab her with just the van.

A nice couple helped me bring down the mast. Beatrice and … The staff at the Illinois beach state park (including Darleen and Dick) accomodated my take out plan by giving the van access to the beach path.

Hello World was unpacked, disassembled, loaded into the Odyssey and out of the park by dusk. The return trip ran the gauntlet of heavy rains and lightning. One casualty – the window of the Odyssey’s rear hatch was smashed. I didn’t secure the door completely and the mast clipped it from above.

We hit the driveway at 7:00 am. After 5 hours of sleep I’m up and functional. The first days back at the house were nice, but having Hello World and all the gear elsewhere was distracting. Now the trip is truly done. It’s good to have the pickup handled.

Day 38

Here in The Palomino in Milwaukee sipping on a Blackout Stout. The ALM 2010 expedition is over, for now. In a couple of hours I’ll board the Lake Express ferry bound for Muskegon, Mi and catch a ride back to Bear Lake with Patrick and maybe Jonathan and Luke too. So here’s the scoop.

Coming out of Chicago, I noticed a strange distortion in the port hull. As reported on the day 35 post, we sailed 30 miles to Illinois Beach State Park, landing in the restricted south unit Preserve at about 9:00 pm.

In the light of the morning on day 36 I looked more closely at the port hull and took some pictures. It looked bad, but I was ready to push off and do another 40 miles to Milwaukee when I noticed my iPhone was smashed! Still functional with a shattered screen – but for how long?

Now I had two significant variables and that’s when chaos theory really kicks in. I made the call to stay put until my spare iPhone could be shipped from the house. I could use the extra day or two to access the hull.

I found power and tent space in the park campground and moved Hello World north a couple of miles, out of the forbidden zone.

Later I discovered that my campsite had a deserted beach perfect for parking Hello World and a bike path that gave me easy access to town. Day 37 found me catching up on the blog and exploring locations for fixing Hello World’s hurt paw. I hadn’t yet checked the replies on the Hobie forums, but I felt confident that something had broken loose inside the hull. Ernie of Ernie’s Automotive Service offered space and power behind his shop. Ernie’s was only 1.5 miles from the deserted beach via bikepath. I could strap the port hull to the z bike and walk it there! We were entering the doable zone.

I wanted to ponder a bit before committing to an extensive repair in the field. Whether or not I decided to keep going or shut the project down, Hello World needed to be moved a few more miles north to the deserted beach near my camp. At about 2:00 pm of day 37 I left camp to do just that.

Around dusk the previous evening an ominous storm had swept through the park. At the time I had been eating pizza and posting to the Hobie forums at the resort’s bar. Leaving camp to move Hello World on day 37 the skies were sunny and clear. I made a mistake – I didn’t throw the rain fly over the tent. I figured moving Hello World a mile or two would take an hour tops. What could happen in an hour?

To make a long story short, a huge storm swept in right after I launched. I was on the last tack into my landing when the wind changed and the rain came sweeping in.

Having anticipated a short jaunt, I hadn’t put my wetsuit on or raised the jib. A quick note on the water at the park – it’s killing cold. Due to some idiosyncracies of lake physics, water temperature Is as cold there as Point Betsie in April – 40 degrees F? A bare skinned human would not last 30 minutes in it. I yanked my wetsuit on as the shore vanished in fog and squall.

Having no jib meant that manueverabilty and responsiveness was minimal. I hadn’t expected to have to do anything fancy during the 30 minutes or so out there. Now I struggled with shifting winds and sluggish helm, a half an hour stretched into an hour and beyond. Rain was bucketing down, thumder cracked the sky wide and the main sail had nothing reliable to bite on. Then the tiller, (that’s what steers the boat), broke.

I know I’m not normal. Death was close and all I could think about was this blog post. What a story, so me! I laughed out loud when the tiller failed. Wow, how could this get any worse?

Easy pal, it can get way worse.

I tried a couple of quick fixes on the tiller but a zip tie did the trick. I had helm back when the wind figured out where it wanted to blow. The shore reappeared and we made several attempts to head in, but the storm wasn’t ready to release it’s toy. After all this trouble, I’d be damned if we were going to land short of our goal.

We kissed beach 100 feet short and I walked Hello World the rest of the way. A creepy thick fog rolled in and slithered over the sand. Whatever! I hauled Hello World up and unstrapped the z bike. AOK here, but what’s the situation back at camp?

I found the Macbook Pro sitting in a puddle in the low end of the tent. Opening the case and pulling out the laptop, I experienced a profound detachment as water poured out the IO ports. One laptop, toast.

Ok, that’s it. Trip over. How many things have to go crazy wrong before we get the message? I emptied the tent and did my best to remediate the flood, then packed up and rode to the nearby coffee shop for some comfort. I checked the forum replies and found this from Matt Miller of Hobie Cat USA, no less.

“This indicates a failed pylon shoe. You need to access the area inside the hull (inspection port). Force the pylon back upwards somehow, then glass / bond the shoe back to the hull or the pylon to the shoe.”

The implication here is that if the shoe is not glued down, the pylon could eventually rip through the hull. That would be a catastrophic failure. If this could happen to one pylon, what about the other three? What if I fixed the port front and the starboard front went lame 100 miles later? Obviously the best course of action is to do them all at once. More than I want to manage at Ernie’s while living out of a tent. Then there’s that new laptop I need.

So I’m on my way home. I’ll be back for the boat in a couple of days with van and trailer. 288 miles and another 20 hours of raw movie to post and then edit. What then?

Day 36

Something bad has happened to the port hull, or maybe it’s starting to happen. The deck is sunken in all around the front pylon. I noticed it first just out of Chicago and confirmed it on the beach this morning. This does not bode well. The pylon must be coming loose inside the hull but there’s no obvious cracks or bulges anywhere.

I had planned to do 40 miles to Milwaukee today and almost pushed off in spite of this problem. Great wind, just did 30 miles with this problem last night, we’ve got the whole day… Let’s go! I’d already left early morning messages with contacts in Milwaukee for meetings tomorrow. I debated the wisdom of pushing off while packing and then I noticed that my iPhone was smashed. Still functional but the glass front was shattered, the clear scratch protector the only thing holding it together.

Now two critical elements were compromised. I asked myself, if I had a friend with me whose life I was responsible for, would I launch now?

I pulled Hello World back up on the beach and resigned myself to finding digs in Zion until another iPhone could be had. I could also research the hull issue and come up with a plan. Worse case scenario, this might mean the end of the trip.

North along the beach I walked the z bike with a backpack full of technology until I hit the “do not enter” signs for the Preserve, facing backwards. Beyond them a trail led to a two track, then a parking lot and paved road out of the park. My idea was to find a motel with wireless, but the park had campsites with power hookups for $25/night, so I stayed.

I spent the day reporting my faux pas to the camp office and moving the boat out of the Preserve. I discovered later that there’s a deserted beach close to my campsite, that’s where I’ll bring her today.

I had pizza and posted to the hobie forums at the parks resort hotel. Jeff the bartender told me about the nuclear power plant next door that has been turned off but still has it’s rods. Oh did I mention there’s a nuclear power plant 200 yards north from my campsite? What the hell is it with beach parks and nuclear power plants?

Somehow the front aluminum pylon is sinking or twisting inside the hull. It might have happened while moored in Chicago’s Monroe Harbor, perhaps from an impact by another boat. Or it could be a sign of some internal problem that is only now showing up, like the pylon coming loose from the bottom of the hull? I did a deck job on both hulls a year ago and sailed 300 miles with no hitches. There are no fractures or cracks anywhere around the deck where the pylon emerges. There’s a ring around the pylon where the deck is now slightly concave. Any experienced Hobie sailors ever seen anything like this before?

Starboard hull outside	Starboard hull inside

Port hull outside	Port hull inside

Day 35

I woke up pretty rested, it’s amazing what humans can get used to. Last night was 4th of July and after fireworks the harbor was jumping with boaters conducting alcohol inspired manuevers and tenders bringing revelers to and fro. Meanwhile back on land, bikers exhibiting symptoms of late stage testosterone poisoning were challenging each other to loudness contests. Add to this cacaphony and general mayhem the up, down and sidewise vectors my little boat was executing in the chop, and sleep would seem unlikely. F-it, I had a beer and a good time making movies during the fireworks. Ready to crash!

One tender captain joshed me as he motored by, “No campfires in the harbor!” Another captain with a load of passengers saw the camera’s light and thought I was signalling for a pickup and when she approached they caught me in mid rant.

Mary the tender captain picked me up the next morning and said that back in the harbor master’s office they were calling me the mountain climber of Lake Michigan. Not bad.

The plan was to lighten the load by shipping back the drives I had cloned and the books I had taken or been gifted. I kept only “Catamaran Sailing”, “Wilderness Medicine” and “Knots and Slings for Climbers”.

As the 5th was observed as a federal holiday, the only shipping location available was at the McCormick Convention Center, a place I’d been many times before for conferences like the World Con (science fiction), Siggraph (computer graphics), Sigchi (computer human interaction) and NSGA (computer graphics).

I rode the Z bike south against a very intense wind to the convention center and after some wandering found the very nice ladies who carefully boxed up my crap.

There was some event in progress involving youngish people and uniforms. Seeing them sitting on the floor waiting for the next session replete with badges and schedules made me whistful for the misspent days of my youth.

Back on the streets, the wind was blowing me back uptown steady and strong. Time to get out of town. I had maxed out on the city, i felt tense and lonely. Does this presage my decision about returning to NYC?

In leaving Chicago, I would be missing out on interviews with presidents and directors of institutions like the Shed Aquarium and the Field Museum. I should have made arrangements weeks earlier, I certainly wasn’t bumping into them at barbeques.

You probably don’t get to be the leader of an high profile aquarium or museum unless you’re somewhat vested in the status quo, so i’d have to ask uncomfortable questions. This project is not about what’s going wrong, it’s about what’s going right. Maybe these high muckety mucks were not so relevant to the project. Anyway, I’d have to stay at least several more days to meet them, the timing was off.

I couldn’t find any decent food to resupply so I just went back to the harbor master’s office to settle up and take one more Baolong bike tour of the harbor. I had been told to leave fenders on the starboard side of Hello World to fend off the tenders, but the fender line had gotten snagged on a sharp edged shroud shackle and cut. Three Baolongs lost. I had searched the harbor and found one, which was a minor miracle because the place is HUGE. This last tour was fruitless, I trust the other two found caring homes.

Back to the North Oscar 29 can at 1:00 and ready to sail at 4:00. While prepping a single hull solo sailer coming off the Big Lake told me it was powerful out there. My main concern was just getting out of the harbor. The wind was blowing south and I had to go south and east to exit. There were boats clustered in cans east and west of me. Way too windy to paddle clear of the other boats, I’d have to let go of the can while under wind power. Of course I’d never done anything like this before.

When the time came I rerigged the can for quick release with a caribiner, then pulled on it to position Hello World on a tack that would sneak us by the other boats. She took the wind, I popped the biner and we slid out, collision free. Once past the breakwaters we turned and took the full power of the wind on a north course – 245 by the charts.

4:00 and 30 miles to sail before dark, with this wind it could be doable. The torus popped off it’s bungee and dragged behind making an awful racket. I hauled it back and clipped it to a backpack. I got into the wire and we hauled ass.

I called jung Woong Kim to chat about his family’s summer plans, and while on the phone I recovered a colorful beachball. After I hung up I recovered another beachball and then a child’s swimming ring, but missed a green kick ball. I’m going to upgrade found objects on the water to 30 points so the score for Chicago was (2 fenders x -50) + (3 floating toys x 30) = -10 points.

Up on the wire I was able to look down on the port hull and see that the deck around the front pylon seemed warped. It was late in the day and the deck was wet and shiny so I couldn’t tell if I was just seeing things. I’d have to check it at the next stop.

By 5:30 we had blown north 10 miles and were looking good. Around 8:00 we pulled in at a public beach for directions, Lake Bluff. Yes, there’s the navy base 2 miles north and past those smoke stacks is the Nature Preserve. Thanks very much! 5 miles to go.

We beached just north of a big power plant with a bit of light still in the sky, 9;00 pm. This beach had no tracks, tire or foot. The Nature Preserve is human accessible by permit only – I found this out later. It was a pleasant night and deep sleep, there on a desolate beach watched over by a brooding hunk of humming infrastructure. I am constantly reminded me of my status as Rat in the Wainscotting.

Day 34

I had ambitions last night, but today just flitted away. I tinkered with the camera on the boat and made a spectacle of myself chillin’ in the tent. I got looks from tender passengers and a “love your setup” from folks on a passing big boat. Generally I think Chicago is a wash, I’m ready to sweep out of here. It’s not that there isn’t plenty of interesting things happening, but I’ve hit it wrong. The holiday extends until Monday and so there’s nobody to meet with until Tuesday and without prior arrangements it’s not a crap shoot whether anyone will be available then. It sounds so much better to just loose the lines and get out of town. There’s plenty more lake to go. Tonight there will be pretty fire in the sky and of course I’ll get some shots. They canceled last night’s show so I’m thinking, it’ll be double tonight. Maybe I’ll actually try and edit in the tent tonight, but chances are I’ll just drink my beer and pass out. This stop counts as a rest I guess.

Our view tonight..

Day 33

Perfection? The kingdom of god is spread upon the earth and man does not see it. Someone to tumble with in this grass would be sweet but as far as solo moments go, pretty near perfect. In tree shadow on sloping grass, facing the water and Hello World tugging on her can. So many other boats, most of them with masts! Behind me the great city yawns and rumbles with AM bustle.

Hello World is so low profile as to be nearly invisible, like a bigger boat that sank. Besides the buzzing and piping of birds, I hear hundreds of masts clanking against thier shackles, the accidental bells of an unplanned devotion. Each sail boat is a place of practice, a temple to the available free energy of wind. Hello World came right into Monroe Harbor under this energy, probably she’s the only boat who did. The rest manuevered to their cans with petrol motors. Out on the Big Lake, they sail.

All projects are test projects. I wonder about ALM, certainly a movie will emerge from this, but am I just setting the stage for a future scheme?
Much of ALM works, but I’m having problems with posting and sharing video. That’s kind of a crucial component. “Look at me I’m traveling” and “here’s what happened today” are not enough of an outcome to justify all the effort and expense. I’m living pretty minimally granted, but I want to offer more than just reporting the trivia of my admittedly unusual life.

Doing this project, I feel like an envoy of destiny, one foot stepping into an incredible possibility, an inevitable present that boggles. Are we really going there? Are we really getting in accord with the momma? I guess by dreaming it, by dedicating a summer to it, I am bringing it forth.

Yes the social aspect matters, it’s gotta make sense. Video and blogging are somehow integral, even if they are ineffective, if hardly anyone is paying attention. The ritual of outreach is what this is about, imaging the ideas flowing out and finding minds, delighting and inspiring. If I act in good faith, eventually the reality will catch up to my dreams.

Hello World is just left of center

A column of Segways passed my shade, surreal

Day 32

Not enough sleep after dozing in the conference room while cloning drives, but me and the z-bike were on the Metra heading south by 9:00 am. When I peddled up the beach was clean, sunny and deserted. I was happy to see Hello World gently rocking at anchor protected from the south wind. I asked Jen at the life guard station about the water conditions in case there was an ecoli or medical waste situation. She was relaxed said she hadn’t heard of any problems. I asked her if the boat out there had been any trouble and told her it was mine and she said the staff had been keeping an eye on it. So cool. I thanked her and took some pictures of Hello World from the south pier, then set up the camera and made a movie of bringing her in. It wasn’t until 11:45 that we were launched and heading towards the breakwater. Tacking got us across the shipping lane, passing the lights and out into the open water. Several sails passed through ahead of us but the only one heading towards Chicago we left behind within an hour. Hello World’s a frisky boat. Our heading was 135-140, bringing us right past an odd little structure that said “restricted” and went beep. It had some dishes on it, looked like microwave to me.

I googled images of the Shed Aquarium so I could have some visuals to guide me in. I also checked and rechecked my charts to be sure I wasn’t totally confused. The skyscrapers of the city loomed large, we headed right at them. It was a perfect wind to get there, pushing the whole 8 miles north then providing plenty of power to get us west into the harbor mouth and through the chop. Looking for the O row (O for Oscar) and dropping sail after spotting it. Turns out I overshot and went to the Q row, but with a little vigorous if panicky paddling I was in the right row and hanging onto 29. I must have taken 45 minutes to tie my little anchor lines to the can in a sufficiently bulletproof configuration. I guess I was nervous. In the movie “When Worlds Collide”, the climactic scene is when the hastily constructed spaceship carrying the last survivors of earth attempts a landing on the new planet, out of fuel and coming in fast. The ship skids and bounces in the snow and when it finally stops, there’s a brief silence and then triumphant music – success! That music was playing in my head while I tied to the can. My very first broadcast on my Icom marine radio was to whistle up the harbor tender. I took the bike and a small bag with me. 6:30 pm.

Shaved and showered at the hostel and back to Flacos for enchildas and another burrito. A little more computing and then bed by 10:45 pm. Phew!

Hiding in the shade of the sail to keep from frying, he looks a little worried...

Chicago proper north

and south

Where in the world is Hello World?

Very low and stealthy. Two boats over from the red hull, foreground.

This is for the Facebook people who’ve been missing out on recent posts due to the unpredictable behavior of the sharing application. I’ve gone back to a less fancy but very reliable solution.

Day 27

Day 28

Day 29

Day 30

Day 31

It’s big city life, Chicago. Amazing how familiar it feels after days and days of waves.

Mostly I’m catching up and doing housekeeping. After breakfast I wandered over to Monroe Harbor and made arrangements to bring in Hello World. I was feeling a little apprehensive about sailing into such a busy place, but learning is what were here for. They’ll call me and let me know my “can”. Cans are floating buoys that boats can tie to, arranged in a grid so it’s something like a parking lot for boats. I did my first floating dock in Grand Haven and Chicago will be my first can.

Credit card snafu resolved thanks to competent record keeping. When you put it out there, it shows up. That’s how I found a health food store in the loop with Bronners, I needed real soap big time and most of my hygiene supplies are a 20 minute train ride and a swim away. Picked up more raw cacao nibs too.

Took CTA out to O’Hare to meet an old friend who now works for the government doing black ops, so I can’t tell you his name. It was cool seeing him even if he is an agent of oppression empire builder rat fink. Flipping this scenario so I’ll feel better about it, I’m going to say that I met my lost love at the airport and she lit up several times during our time together, forgetting her cares and worries for an hour or so over fancy food she wouldn’t eat. We kissed like a dream way too late.

Riding back I was mildly euphoric and not unsettled as if I had spent an hour with a childhood buddy turned monster baby killer. A sort of anti-matter me, I’d rub him out if he wasn’t the yin to my yang, the F.

Returning from the airport, I walked up to the Apple Store along the Miracle mile to buy another hard drive and find a replacement AquaPac. The drive they had but not the other, tho they told me on the phone they had it. Face to face, all the experts and geniuses were totally ignorant of this essential Iphone infrastructure.

Back at the hostel and an errand or two before trying the Indian Cafe around the corner. Not impressed. It seems like there’s an ethnic stealth franchise movement here in Chicago, a theme park approach to restaurants. At Flaco’s Tacos, the food is decent and there’s only Mexican folks working there but I am not sure they own it. Then there’s Joe Curry, which is an Indian spin with similar set up and the only people working there are sort of south asian looking. Meanwhile back at Cafecito a Cuban place that does sandwiches and coffee, the folks working there appear to be some flavor of latin, maybe Cubano. Now it’s not impossible that these places are owned by their respective nationalities, but they all seem to be set up in similar styles. If it’s tastes and looks ethnic, is that enough? Is this worth looking into?

I spent the rest of the evening cloning drives in the 4th floor conference room until about 2:00 am. My lips are chapped and burned, but frequent applications of Carmex are beginning to turn the tide.

My can is North Oscar 29, easy access from the main channel into the harbor. Thank goodness. Looking forward to picking up Hello World, a little worried about her all alone in Calumet Park.