CILIN II: A Solo Sailing ODYSSEY

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Contents

Foreword...............................................ixMy Odyssey Begins......................................1We Visit the Greek Islands.............................11To Panormitis..........................................19Kemer to Cyprus........................................25Paphos to Larnaca......................................37Larnaca to Tel Aviv....................................41Tel Aviv...............................................47Nativity...............................................49Christmas Day in Bethlehem.............................51Tel Aviv to Larnaca, Cyprus............................53Crete..................................................55Westward from the Greek Islands........................59Greece to Catania, Sicily..............................65Catania, Sicily to Malta...............................67Malta..................................................71Charlotte's Legacy.....................................75Malta to Barcelona.....................................81Hallucinations.........................................83Costa de Sol...........................................91Gibraltar..............................................93Gas for Cooking........................................99Arrival in Canary Islands..............................107Gigi...................................................115Canary Islands to Antigua..............................119Antigua................................................123Crabbs Marina..........................................127Curacao to Panama......................................131Dancing with Debbie....................................139The Doldrums...........................................145Breakfast in Panama....................................155Pontrenas to Panama....................................161Sailing with Miss Finnegan.............................163Costa Rica to Tahiti...................................171Arrival in Australia...................................185Dr Cameron Purdie.....................................189Sailing with Miss Finnegan, Again?.....................195Henry Byron Williams...................................203Cocos Keeling to the Maldives..........................215Maldives...............................................229Trouble at Sea.........................................233Salalah................................................239Aden to the Red Sea....................................245The Shady Lady.........................................255Suakin to Jeddah.......................................261Jeddah to Hurghada.....................................271Life in Hurghada.......................................277Clearing Out...........................................281

Chapter One

The Whitcomb Odyssey may have begun in May, 1633 when Puritan John Whitcomb boarded a sailboat in Weymouth Harbor, England to sail to America. It continued 356 years later when I boarded a sailboat in Gibraltar to sail to America.

Our circumstances were remarkably different in many ways. John was in his forties and sailing on a very large sailboat. His wife, Frances Cogan, 11-year old Catherine, 9-year old John, 7-year old Jonathan, 6-year old Robert, 4-year old James and 2-year old Johanne, together with 15 other families, accompanied him.

The miseries and suffering of these families in their effort to find a new life for themselves in America can only be left to speculation at this late date. One thing known for certain is that 2-year old Johanne, their baby daughter, died during the trip.

When I sailed, I was 71 years of age and alone on a 30-foot sailboat, and starting a new adventure of my own volition.

Life in colonial Lancaster, Massachusetts, where they settled, was austere and hazardous in finding food and reasonable shelter from the elements, together with attacks by savage Indians that took the life of another family member.

After some 30 years of the primitive life, eight of which were spent living on Lot No. 33 in Lancaster, it was written that John Whitcomb met the inevitable hour. He died at the age of 74 and was laid to rest with the other forefathers of the hamlet in the old burial ground. Today no fragment of even a battered stone marks his resting place. But the heritage of that ancient Puritan is in the lives of his thousands of descendants who, over the years, have spread to the ends of the earth to become farmers, factory workers, bankers, lawyers, teachers and even a space scientist.

One of the thousands of descendants of immigrant John was James Whitcomb, who served as the eighth governor of the State of Indiana. Hoosier Poet Laureate James Whitcomb Riley was named after him. As a direct descendant of immigrant John Whitcomb, I also served as governor of Indiana from 1969 to 1973.

I was born on November 6, 1917 in Hayden, a town of 225 people in south-central Indiana. The town was comprised of a school (first through twelfth grades), two general stores, three blacksmith shops, a Methodist church and a Baptist church. U.S. Highway 50 traversed the town and the B&O Railroad bordered the south side of town. More important to us in the early days was Six Mile Creek that passed a quarter of a mile east where we spent many hours swimming and fishing in the summertime.

Growing up in such a community offered many opportunities for recreation in the school and church. There were basketball and baseball games, class plays and because of the size of the school, I was able to participate in all of the activities. I also played trumpet in our five-piece orchestra.

During my sophomore year, at the age of 15, I started thinking about what I wanted to do in my life. One thing I knew for certain was that I did not want to grow up and get tied down in Hayden without seeing some of the important places in history. It had happened to my father and his father before him. Both had gotten married and settled down without ever having the opportunity to travel and see important places in history.

In the year of 1933, the country was in the throes of the great depression. My father's employment was in an automobile factory in New Castle, 80 miles from Hayden. I saw him only on weekends. But all four of my grandparents lived nearby and provided good company for me.

In those days there were no field trips in Hayden for school children to visit Chicago, New York or Washington, D.C. as in later years. If I traveled to those places, I knew I would have to hitchhike or ride freight trains. I thought about it over and over and saved $20.00 from working for neighboring farmers. First, I would go to Chicago to visit the World's Fair and stay with my aunt. She would be surprised at my arrival because I had no intention of letting her know of my future plans.

In order to make my trip, it was necessary that I leave home without telling my parents. They would not have given me permission. So on a Sunday morning in June, 1933, under the pretense of going to Sunday School, I walked past the church to the highway a quarter of a mile away where I had hidden a small travel bag with toilet articles and extra under garments.

While waiting for a ride, I looked back across the fields to my old hometown of Hayden. Looking back across the B&O Railroad track was the cemetery where a large stone marked the grave of my great grandfather,...