Last week I failed to appear at a Pacific Puddle Jump planning meeting and was consequentially elected to be the “Admiral” of the Banderas Bay ”Fleet.” It’s not entirely clear to me what this means so I am assuming that I am the project manager of a cat herding operation. The Pacific Puddle Jump started nearly 20 years ago as a way for pre-gps, pre-accurate-long-term-weather sailors to support each other in crossing the largest ocean in the world. Over the years technology and knowledge base have matured and become fairly ubiquitous. The upshot is that nearly anyone can spend a little time on the internet and reap the wisdom necessary to cross the ocean. In spite of this sailors up and down the Pacific coast of the Americas still flock to the PPJ meetings in search of social connection, reassurance, and more information.
This picture was taken in Paradise Village and I am really looking forward to taking another picture of this group in a village in paradise.
The Pacific Puddle Jump has never had a formal start date, end date, or starting line. The organizers offer no safety support (other than the informal moral, information, and relay support that the net provides). So to say that I am the “Admiral” of the “Fleet” is kind of like saying that I am the king of the anarchists. When I met with the group yesterday I put forward a few topics, organized a chart copying run, and suggested some things for the SSB NET controllers and participants to think about. I suggested that someone volunteer to get more information on each of the topics and perhaps best of all, talked with an artist about designing our shirt!
I am actually quite honored that this group of experienced and knowledgeable sailors chose to saddle me with this responsibility, even if they thought they were dodging a bullet.
{ 2 comments… read them below or add one }
Hey Bradford,
Here I am 4:30 in the morning, amnesiac time, catching up on your blog, and it’s great to see you and your family are doing well and enjoying your stay in Mexico.
So a big hello from one of your SETI/Rocky Valley friends… looking forward to reading more big adventure tales.
~Gabriel
Hah! You can tell it’s late when I call you by your last name. Sorry, Tucker. Maybe it’s time to hit the hay.
Gabriel