The Continuing Biodiesel Adventures in
"Putting the 'Bean' in Caribbean"
"Putting the 'Bean' in Caribbean"
LESSONS IN LIFE
(SALINAS, PUERTO RICO)—Obviously the most beautiful part of jumping on a ship and "sailing off into the sunset" is the opportunity to take life at a slower pace, to enjoy the beauty of life's little moments and reflect on nature's wonders. In our workaday world, we move at speeds that blind us from the simple pleasures of a sunset.
Adventurers Jim MacNeil and Rebecca Payne, two Maryland sailors aboard the sailing ketch Beyond, have been cruising the Caribbean since November 1996. Their voyage is, in part, supported by the Ohio Soybean Council and Maryland Soybean Board, as a way to promote biodiesel fuel. The clean-burning soybean-based fuel has been blended with petroleum diesel to feed Beyond's twin Yanmars since the couple left the Chesapeake in a long-term test of B20 - 20 percent biodiesel with 80 percent petroleum diesel.
They're never at want for things to do, or for things to worry about. Boats are infamous for breaking in one way or another; Beyond is no exception. Hurricanes keep them on guard. Even simple chores such a cooking a meal and washing dishes require special considerations.
Then, too, there's work to be done if the voyage can continue. They live as simply as possible and try to make money when they can. The cleanup and repair work in Puerto Rico has been plentiful since Hurricane Georges spun over the island late last fall. MacNeil is taking advantage of working for pay while he can.
Some days, just like the rest of us, he forgets to stop and smell the roses. It took an eight-year-old girl to remind him to take "time out." Mara Haupert, on board the Catherine L., has been sailing the Caribbean since 1993. Her parents homeschool her aboard the 35-foot Ericson sloop registered out of Phillips, Wis.
"We saw it last night!" she exclaimed as MacNeil rowed past the Catherine L. "You should come by and maybe we'll see it again tonight!" she urged him and she followed his progress along the deck.
"Okay," MacNeil replied, promising to return.
That night, he saw it too, for the first time in more than two years of sailing.
They were sitting on the Catherine's deck, peering westward, and mesmerized by a spectacular sky of bright oranges and majestic purples bursting from behind a deep blue cloud band near the horizon. The sun, a bright orange ball, slipped out from under the clouds, rested momentarily on the horizon, then slipped out of sight. Just before the upper limb of the sun ducked beneath the horizon, the great ball of fire changed from yellow to a brilliant green—green!—then disappeared. Mara, swinging from the boom gallows, questioned her visitor. "Did you see it? Did you see it?"
"I saw it; I saw it," MacNeil assured her.
Sailors say the green flash—no more than a split second in time—is the sun's way of winking "goodbye" at the end of the day.
"As a city boy raised inside the Washington Beltway, hills and highrises blocked my view of these kinds of spectacular sunsets," MacNeil recalls. "Having lived for years along the Atlantic beaches in Maryland and Delaware, I was able to catch a spectacular sunrise, never a green flash. But in the workaday world, time was too often at a premium. Rarely did I sit on the beach before work or school to watch the sun bid the world hello. Entertainment was frequently limited to what was piped into the house through 75-ohm coaxial cable. Away from television and telephones, however, I find myself enjoying an age-old form of entertainment. And the star of this show is Mother Nature.
"Since we've been south of Florida, the clock ticks a bit slower, giving us time to appreciate little things that can be easily missed by someone in a hurry or distracted by a job or a busy household. A day rarely goes by anymore when I do not pause to appreciate some aspect of nature. Just the other weekend I picked up a hermit crab who was walking past me on the beach wile Rebecca, Mara and friend Jennifer were busy building a sand city near the water's edge.
"None of us had ever seen a hermit crab come out of its shell before. Surprisingly, this one quickly scrambled out onto my hand, leaving me holding its empty shell.
"We all took a few minutes to observe the funny-looking crab, his tail lopsided and curled from a lifetime of holding onto his house. Mara wished him 'happy house hunting' before we released him near a pile of vacant shells."
The Haupert family goes home for a few months each year to visit friends and family. Sometimes, Mara admits, it's hard to fit in, having missed out on some of the things the other kids did at school. But she realizes how lucky she is: "Nobody else in my class has ever seen a real live manatee."
She chronicled MacNeil's own experience with a manatee in "Mac and the Manatee" and sent it to her class at home.
While scrubbing Beyond's bottom one day in their Salinas anchorage, MacNeil had a very close encounter with the rare sea cow. This particular animal was extraordinarily friendly, wanting to cavort and swim with MacNeil for nearly an hour. It was a treasured experience, and reminded the sailors that—like Mara—they are truly fortunate. Through the clouds of life, they remember to look for the silver linings.
"Most afternoons in Puerto Rico, we watch the clouds build up in the mountains," MacNeil says. "Black clouds miles away add contrast and often color our view of the sea or the mountains. I can stare for hours as they drift by, sometimes intensifying into storms and emptying themselves into the oceans.
"Despite having almost lost my boat to the destructive force of lightning, I am always eager to witness a spectacular light show. It's like nature's own fireworks display."