It’s a small ocean. You never know who you’re going to meet. Well, OK, it wasn’t really out here on the ocean, but it was in the slip next to me when I was in Cabo several days ago.
“Ventura” was resting in slip B-26, next to a sport fishing boat named “Diamond Cutter.” The skipper of that boat climbed down from the fly bridge and I couldn’t resist asking him, too. You see, I’ve been hunting for one of the prior owners of “Ventura” for years. I had heard he was a singlehanded sailor named John Lappala. John supposedly added the Aries windvane (the self-steering gear) to “Ventura.” He also knew the first owners, the Parkinsons, who had bought “Ventura” in England and sailed her to San Francisco in 1969-70. So I thought John could fill in many of the blanks I had in “Ventura’s” history.
Years ago I had heard that John was the skipper of a large boat down in Mexico. So everywhere I went in Cabo — the docks, bars, chandleries — I asked people if they knew John Lappala. No luck, though someone did tell me he skippered a 67-foot boat called “Kemo Sabe” and had been in Cabo as recently as last September.
So Ariel steps onto the dock and I ask: “Do you happen to know a skipper named John Lappala”? Ariel looks a little worse for wear, having just come in from fishing. His shirt is smeared with blood. He likes to talk. But first he wants a beer, which his fisherman client throws to him from the boat. “Hey, Ar-ar-ar-iel, catch,” he yells as the beer arcs toward me. A bloody hand reaches in front of my face just before the beer breaks my nose. It seems Ariel stutters occasionally, and the client has re-christened Ariel to Ar-ar-ariel.
Anyway, Ariel lights up with a big smile. “John Lappala? Damn right, we’ve been buddies for 20 years. You want his phone number?” I tell him that “Ventura” is John’s old boat. “Really? John’s told all kinds of stories about sailing that boat. Is that really John’s boat?”
It turns out John is in a marina on the Mexican mainland right now and is glad to talk on the phone. “What a blast from the past,” he says when I tell him who I am. He can’t talk much right then — something about repairs to “Kemo Sabe” and divers under the boat and alligators in the marina — but we exchange email addresses. So eventually I will be able to fill in “Ventura’s” past.
Ariel is suddenly very interested in my trip. “So you’re sailing all the way to Panama?” he asks. “That’s a long ways.” He wants to know how many people are on the boat. “Just me,” I explain. Ariel explodes with curiosity. “Just you! Just you! You didn’t even bring any pussy?” Ariel shakes his head. “Man, you gonna go blind!”
Talk to you later. I have to clean my glasses. I don’t see so good.
David
PS. I’ve had moderately good wind the past two days since leaving Cabo. Last night was dead calm, though, and even the spinnaker just hung limp. But now I’ve got 10 or 15 knots of wind from the north and the forecast is for more of the same. So I’m making about 5 kts in the right direction. It’s been a quiet day and I’ve been napping on and off.