#TBT - Happy Birthday, Jelly

Jelly was aboard Nine of Cups as our ship's cat for eight years and a good ship's cat she was. She kept seagulls off the boat (unless they were too big and scary). She kept rats off the boat (at least we never saw any). She liked to snag moths and small birds and bring them down below to us.

She liked to fish with David. No matter where she was on the boat, the minute David took out the fishing gear, she was there.

She fell overboard three times, always while we were in port. Twice she clambered out of the water herself, but one time she was saved by a Canadian sailor, to whom she was always grateful:

Jelly’s Hero

It was May and we were docked at the Charleston Maritime Center. Jelly, our year old sea cat, had the run of the place. Everyone knew her and she roamed at liberty along the wharf, jumping on this boat or that one for a visit, a nap or a snack.

A large, seagoing freight schooner, Aventuur, had just tied up at the end of the dock the day before and we had made the acquaintance of the three-man crew, offering them a beer and a chat. They had just sailed from Surinam with a hold full of angelique wood that was destined to be used for the keel of a new tallship, “Spirit of Carolina”. The Canadian crew was full of adventurous talk of the high seas, exotic places and their homes and we were all ears. Jelly rubbed against our feet and listened intently.

We headed off to the library the next day and upon our return, Andy, mate on the Aventuur, told us Jelly had been chased off the wharf by a couple of dogs and had nearly drowned. He plucked her out at the last minute, but she had gotten away and run back to our boat before he could determine if she was okay. We clambered aboard to find a wet, bedraggled cat lying in the middle of our bed. She was a pitiful sight. Her gray and white fur was all matted down with dirty salt water, making her look tiny and helpless. Our usually quiet cat was all chatter, mewing on and on about her terrible misadventure with the vicious hounds, her flow interrupted only with heaves of salt water. We bathed and comforted her like a sick child and she recovered without any emotional or physical trauma that we could assess. Aventuur left early the next morning before we could say goodbye or properly thank Andy.

We, too, left Charleston within a few days heading North to New England for the summer with no definite plans for ports of call in mind. Once we docked in Mystic, Connecticut, we dug out the charts to determine exactly where we’d go next. Farther North and farther East sounded good. We had visited Maine the summer before and loved it and so we thought we’d venture beyond Mt. Desert Island this summer and really experience Downeast Maine. Perhaps, even Canada… Nova Scotia and where was Aventuur from? New Brunswick…how far was that?

Three weeks later we edged our way across the Bay of Fundy and picked up a mooring off the docks at St. Andrews-by-the-Sea, New Brunswick. The dockmaster, Beebe, met us and gave us a hearty welcome.

“Are you familiar with the schooner, Aventuur?” we asked. “Sure…they’re out now; be here in a few weeks, I’d guess”. We were disappointed. We’d come with a thought way in the back of our minds that maybe we’d run into Andy, but we knew it would be a long shot. We didn’t even know his last name.

Off we went into town, anxious to explore and scope out our new surroundings and catch up on the unpleasant aspects of cruising like doing mounds of dirty laundry. The local laundromat was next to the internet café and we headed there first. As I was pulling wet clothes out of the washer, a dark bearded young man caught my eye. I had only known Andy for two days and chatted with him rather briefly, but could it be?

“Are you Andy?” I ventured warily. “Yes”, he hesitated, then added “and you look vaguely familiar.” “I’m Marcie from the Nine of Cups. We met in Charleston. You saved my …”. “Cat”, he completed my sentence with surprise showing on his face.

“Yes…Jelly is her name. We never thanked you properly. Come meet my husband, David, he’s next door and we’ll go for a beer.” “No, I can’t. I’m doing laundry and need to get back to work. I’m working at a pizza parlor for the summer.”

An older man who had been eavesdropping on our rather loud conversation, interjected. “When a pretty lady asks you to go for a beer…never say no!”

We all laughed and Andy came with me to find David. David looked at me expectantly with an eye on the young man I had in tow.

“THIS is Andy!” I crowed triumphantly.

We talked for a few minutes, but he was adamant we couldn’t buy him a beer or lunch. He had to get back to work. I hugged him goodbye, but as I watched him walk away, I felt a tinge of remorse that we still hadn’t suitably thanked him for his act of heroism. How do you thank a 23 year old that doesn’t want to be thanked? We decided to buy him a 6-pack of Molson and drop it off at his workplace with a note from Jelly.

Thank you note and brown paper bag with beer in hand, we found the pizza joint and asked if Andy was there. The young girl at the counter eyed us suspiciously, “Yes, he’s in the kitchen. Who can I tell him wants to see him?” “We’re David & Marcie…we met Andy in Charleston and …”, I had intended to blurt out the whole story, but she cut me short.

“Oh, you’re the people. He saved your cat!” she was glowing with pride. “Let me get him.” “Andy, the cat people are here”, she hollered back to the kitchen. Out walked Andy, outfitted in cut-off shorts, t-shirt and pizza-stained apron. “Hey, you guys. What are you doing here?” “These are the cat people I told you about,” he added as an aside to the assembled group of coworkers.

“Jelly really wanted to say thanks and since we couldn’t take you out for a beer, we thought we’d bring one to you.” His face reddened, but he gratefully took the beer and note. “Thanks to Jelly, too! See you again sometime.”

The world’s a big place, but you can always find a hero if you’re looking.

She had a full and adventurous life and had her humans trained well. What cat could ask for more?

Jelly went to cat heaven back in 2014, but she's remembered fondly. Perhaps because we were around her all the time or perhaps because she was an especially cool cat, she'll always be considered the #1 cat in our family. Happy Birthday, Jells!

Heading Home to Nine of Cups

Our last day in Vegas was hectic … go figure. We've been here since January and had plenty of time to get things done, but still some things got put off till the very last minute and we struggled to cram it all in before heading to the airport. David had some parts that he'd forgotten to order and we scrambled to locate them. We wanted to say goodbye to David's mum and a friend of hers (and ours) decided to give us a flat screen TV that we needed to pick up. A cruising friend's laptop died and they asked us to pick up a new one for them and bring it back with us to Trinidad. Then packing, last minute laundry, chores … and then we were at the airport hugging Mary and Karen goodbye.

We're budget-minded, as you know, so we booked a red eye to save a significant amount of bucks, but it takes a toll on these old bodies. Our previous experience flying to Boston from Trinidad with Jet Blue wasn't the greatest, but they're cheap (in more ways than one). Unlike the last nightmare flight on Jet Blue, however, this flight was on time, the crew was friendly and they even offered snacks and drinks en route. Heck, we even got hot towels to wash our faces before landing.

We arrived in Fort Lauderdale at 0500 EDT … 2am Vegas time. It was dark, much colder than Vegas (only 55F) and we were a bit stove-up and tired from the 4.5 hour trip. We had a 5-hour layover to look forward to and we were hoping to find something in the way of breakfast. Egg and turkey sausage patty breakfast sandwiches and weak coffee were the best we could find and reluctantly spent $15 on mediocre food to satisfy our hungers.

As I write, the final leg of our Jet Blue flight to Port of Spain, Trinidad is scheduled on time. We're sitting at the gate, charging all of our electronics and trying to stay awake. That darned sausage patty is doing a good job though … we're definitely not sleeping with that in our systems.

FAQ - Do you have boat insurance?

Well, it's boat insurance renewal time again … a depressing, expensive time of year and one which really impacts the budget. Comparative to house insurance or car insurance, boat insurance is over the top … thousands instead of hundreds of dollars. David's written about having boat insurance in the past and I thought I'd reiterate … mostly because misery loves company.

If you have a mortgage on your boat, just like a house, you must have insurance. We never had a mortgage on Nine of Cups, but the investment was substantial enough (like a house without a mortgage), that we felt insuring her was important. After a couple of years in the Carib, when it was time to renew, the insurance company told us we could not go to Colombia. We took exception to their exception and canceled the insurance and muddled around until 2009 uninsured and without consequence.

When we arrived in New Zealand, we were required to have insurance to check into any marina, be on one of their moorings or be hauled out in the boatyard. Only third party liability was required and it was relatively inexpensive ($300-400). We bought it, so we could haul out. We sailed to New Zealand's South Island that year and while we were in Picton, cruising friends who were on a land holiday, stopped by to say hello. We talked about boat insurance at length. They were insured, but it was such a huge chunk of their budget, they wondered if it was worthwhile and they were thinking about not renewing. Fast forward one month later … they hit a reef near Whangaroa and their boat went down in a matter of minutes. The insurance paid up and they bought another boat. When news of our friends' loss reached us, it gave us food for thought and lots to ponder.

We investigated several insurance companies and finally found one through a local New Zealand agent that was underwritten by Lloyds of London and that we think provides us with the best coverage without breaking the bank. We now renew our insurance annually as painful as it might be. Have we ever had a claim? No … and really that would be the ultimate test of how good the insurance policy really is.

I will tell you that reading the fine print of our policy is a lesson in patience and, at times, incredulity. For instance, we are NOT covered for cyber attacks, civil war, insurrection or rebellion (or mutiny of the crew). We are not covered for radioactive contamination nor chemical, bio-chemical, biological nor electromagnetic weapon attacks including the explosion and subsequent consequences of a nuclear reactor. Oh, the list of exclusions is very, very long, but of course, we're hoping we never have to worry about them.

One thing to consider with the cost of the insurance is that some agents charge credit card fees; there are fees for foreign-currency exchange if that applies and if not, fees from your bank for a wire transfer.

We know many, many cruisers who do not opt to insure and just as many who do. It really depends on your peace of mind, what risks you're willing to tolerate and how much you have invested in your boat. Again, some marinas (especially New Zealand and Australia) require proof of insurance. Australia, by the way, requires AUD$10 million liability insurance, but our $5 mil policy from New Zealand sufficed when we discussed it with them and they made an exception.

Our liability insurance was reduced to US$1 million this year because we're returning to the USA … not sure why, but it did. Americans are a litigious lot, perhaps that's the reason. We are required to be either south of 12.07N (e.g. Trinidad) or north of Cape Hatteras between 1 June and 30 November or losses from a named or numbered windstorm (i.e. hurricanes or tropical depressions) are excluded. We're also not insured if we opt to go to Venezuela, Haiti or Cuba.

We'll be lucky if we get all of our work done on Cups and get out of the marina by June, so this time we're okay with the restrictions. Now if we can just keep the crew from mutinying ...