Where to start, the most memorable 10 years of my life. I can’t really put myself in other people’s shoes, what they feel they have accomplished, trials they have faced, or things that they have done. I know some people’s lives are fuller than I can imagine, I envy those who have great adventures, travel to distant lands and have some greater than life impact on the world around them. I read National Geographic and think of the people whose lives that I find so fascinating and I know they are just living day to day just like I am and mostly they feel boredom just like I. I can’t aspire to that kind of life, mine didn’t start out that way, thou I have been instilled from my childhood with wanderlust, I unfortunately couldn’t see far enough or have the right breaks to educate myself in such a way to be able to make a living, living a life that I would like. But I have tried just the same to do things that others may only dream about and I have been successful, I think in being among those whose life is a step up from the ordinary.

Thou the start of my adventure really begins farther back, I will begin with Aphrodite. My memories have faded and I may not be able to totally bring back day to day impressions, but this is exactly why I am writing this to myself. Every day that goes by it fades a little more and one day it may be gone. I think back and think about how much has changed and how much I have grown over the last 10 years and I think about how much I have lost. I don’t know what the future holds for me, I have dreams that I am not finished with what I love most doing, it is just the world or maybe that I am not smart enough to be able to continue financially. It is my hope that over the next 10 to 15 years I will have those things figured out. The one truth is that time marches on and it does so at an ever increasing rate. Time is running out. So I will begin now.

The Beginning of a Dream

This was a story I posted on Compuserv, at last count over 100 people have downloaded it and read it, my one claim to being published. In reality Dad and I always had this dream of sailing out to the south pacific to return to all the places he was in the war. From him I have learned to be able to take a dream and turn it into substance and why the hell not? To look back now at Aphrodite and what I know now about boats and sailing, it wasn’t a very good boat. It was big and heavy, too many things to go wrong and to maintain. It was hard to sail and drew so much water we hardly could go anywhere. But it looked beautiful and my dad made it.

After I got out of the Navy and stayed with Dad and Suzy in Lafayette to help with the boat, some of the best times were just being down there, on the boat working. Late in the afternoon, as everything is cooling down we would pop open the beer, relax and look at what we had accomplished. Little by little things were coming together. I am still puzzled by the behavior of friends and generally people in Louisiana. Here we were building this huge boat, like Noah’s ark underneath a bridge in downtown Lafayette, threatening to take off around the world at any minute. Either people didn’t believe us, couldn’t believe us, or just didn’t have any curiosity at all I don’t know, but I would invite someone down to the boat and mostly they wouldn’t show up or really wouldn’t have any interest at all.

Soon we were taking Aphrodite out to the gulf on a regular basis. The trip down the Vermilion River was an interesting on, especially because in most places it was less than 6ft deep and we draw almost 8. Being mud however we mostly just powered thru, out nemesis thou was the shit bar that formed right under a sewage outlet and everyonce in awhile we would get stuck on that and have to be pulled off. My Dad soon was nicknamed Capt Crunch for his propensity for doing that. I seemed to have a real feel for the sandbars, I could detect them in my feet and mostly able to veer off before we came to a screeching halt. It would take about 8 hours to get down the river, about 30 miles to Vermilion Bay. It was here we learned to Sail, and at night we would just anchor out anywhere because mostly 8-10 ft depths throughout. When we would have more time we would head out to the Gulf and hang out at the oil rigs fishing. Our friends Bob and Eileen, George and his wife would accompany us.

One time a group of Dad’s students were to go out with us, 4 young and cute things which had me of course in seventh heaven. We left the dock and by the time we got to Vermilion Bay we had polished off a 5th of rum. My dad was in good form, I thought he was doing alright, at one point he brought the tip of the bowsprit up to some rocks at the side of the river and held it there long enough for another student to climb aboard to join us. This is real tricky in swift current. We got to the fuel dock on the inter coastal and he just cowboyed Aphrodite up along side just like a crew boat, no problem. But our problems did start at the bar at the entrance to the bay, instead of staying to the left of the buoy, like we have done 100 times he goes to the right and bang, we are stuck. After a bit a shrimper pulls us off but by then it is getting late, the wind is coming up and we anchor. As the evening progressed the wind kept building and the waves were getting rough and we are loaded. We end up lashing the girls to the deck with some rope so they don’t go sliding off the deck and we crash, I make my cocoon up in the netting under the bowsprit. All night I don’t sleep well and I look around but I am still to drunk to get up and really survey our surroundings. but when light comes and I look over and see shoreline 100 ft from us I realized at once we had drug anchor over 5 miles and we’re stuck in about 4 ft of water. Rescued by another shrimper and confirmation of a storm system in the weather forecast sends us scurrying back to the Inter coastal to tie up. Those four girls just about fell over themselves getting away from us and the boat as fast as they could go. 4 days later we were back out and had a wonderful time thou and also a little wiser. One does not drink heavily on a boat and you let out lots and lots of scope.

Some more of my dad’s students were from Belize and we made good friends with them. One Xmas they invite us for the holidays and we are treated just like family. Belize is a dream of paradise come true, white sand, crystal incredibly clear water. We arrive at the airport on Xmas day and on the way to town indelibly influences my mind with a insight into Belize and it’s people. Strew all along the road are people sleeping out in the middle of the asphalt, after parting all night and walking home, some along ways, the black pavement retains the heat of the day keeping them warm. With no problems or griping cars just weave in and out of the sleepers, just try that in LA! This is a sailing story so I won’t elaborate on this trip, but it was filled with adventure, coming thru the reefs at night, swimming in the blue hole, Ambergris Cay and Tobacco Cay, Glover’s reef. Doc and Ian’s Dad, homemade tamales, Xmas parties, telephone companies, we knew that this is where we would be heading with Aphrodite, the sound of reggae music beckons.

Before we knew it the time to put our feet where our mouths had been saying we were going to do and that was to leave the safe and secure and embark upon our voyage into the unknown. Mar 10 1984 we left Lafayette on our final passage down the Vermilion River, the first stop New Iberia to haul out and get ready for our passage.

With new bottom paint and various other improvements we finally set sail with friends and crew, Bob and Eileen and George. They had 2 weeks until they had to be back at work and we thought that would give us plenty of time to make the 600 - 800 mile voyage to Belize. But during the first 9 - 10 days out at sea we only experience a dead dead calm sea with no wind what so ever. We knew that schedules would not allow us to make the passage the way we planned. Our next plan of attack was to set our course for Fairhope Alabama, where we had Aphrodite’s mast stepped and the sails made. We had friends there and we thought we would just continue to hop down the coast even into Florida awaiting the right wind and conditions to set off into the Gulf. That accepted it then seemed the wind gods took pity on us and rustled up a perfect wind which propelled us like a freight train all the way to the entrance to Mobil Bay. It had taken us 11 days to make 300+ miles, what a record!

Tied up at Fairhope Yacht Club we greet old friends. Bob and Eileen head back to Louisiana and George decides to go on with us, for which we are grateful. We also sign aboard Doreen, who made our sails and is a good sailor in her own right. This will be her second trip into blue water and so is welcome experience for us.

A few days pass until the morning forecast calls for a late Norther to arrive the next day. With a Northwest wind in store we decide to take advantage of it and leave. Hopefully it will not be a real strong one. With the wind at 20 and gusting to 25 or so we head on out, escorted by Ken in is little 26 footer. He wave goodby after a few miles and we are finally alone and underway. We are zooming down the ship channel wing on wing like a bat out of hell, when it happens. Somebody didn’t secure the Main Sail sheet and it comes loose sending it’s huge area flying around in a gibe, the boat leans over and then causes the foresail to gibe and this starts up a resonance, gibe, gibe, and gibe before we can get it under control. Luckily no real damage is done and we go on, more carefully.

The wind goes on and the sea is huge the sky ominous but aside from being underwater alot of times we are in good shape. Aphrodite is not the driest boat around, as waves kinda of take a short cut across out amidships. Doreen is seasick and wrapped up like a cocoon for the first few days. George and I have the dog watch and as soon as we get relieved each night it becomes a tradition to have a shot of Drambuie.

As a few days go by the fury of the norther becomes less, the winds start backing and we change course right to the Yucatan Channel still on a Port Tack. Doreen comes alive and baths on deck become a necessity. Here we discover a strange power Suzy has, every single time she gets back there to bathe a tanker appears on the horizon and soon overtakes us, and they are curious to see a sail and downright ecstatic to find a naked women on deck!

George and I rig up trolling lines and fish, one morning I am down drying off from my shower when I hear the line screaming out, jump into my shorts and race up grabbing the pole and placing the end tightly between my legs. I fight for a long time before I wrestle a huge Maui Maui aboard. What I didn’t realize was that my pecker was hanging out of my shorts, both Doreen and George told me afterwards that it was quite a big thing. I guess that was good for my ego and I do believe Doreen could not get that picture out of her mind because the next evening she wakes me up for my watch in a very special way. George wondering where I was walks in on us in the focsle, I don’t know what he thought, a camel with two backs? Doreen and I after that shared a special kind of relationship and she starts the Floyd Stewart Fan Club which later on has quite a membership. She is a wonderful person, talented poet, sail maker and wind surfer. She has alot of special male friends but stays away from attachment, love with her was free and special and natural, memories of her are some of my best.