tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-75445840904795557092024-03-21T18:04:13.498-07:00From Homeless to Yachtmore!Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger14125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544584090479555709.post-53490476709387414172020-02-16T15:31:00.001-08:002020-02-16T15:31:09.155-08:00My presentation at Fuckup Night PragueI presented some stories from the 3 months I spent homeless in NYC before I bought my first sailboat.
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<iframe allow="accelerometer; autoplay; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/3AJNFCRc51E" width="560"></iframe>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544584090479555709.post-63655023319886093132019-09-17T07:58:00.002-07:002019-09-26T13:33:17.838-07:00Last Year of PhD and Then?A great thanks to Doubravka Krautschneider for translating an email interview on our Atlantic crossing into Polish for a <a href="https://zeszytyzeglarskie.pl/dobravka-krautschneider-wakacyjna-przygoda-z-atlantykiem/" target="_blank">Polish sailing magazine</a>. A post-edited version of the interview follows. <br />
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<h4>
<b>When did you decide to make this trip? </b></h4>
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</h3>
It has been in the back of my mind since I bought my current boat, White Bird (Cheoy Lee 41 Offshore), in November 2015 that I have to bring it with me wherever the wind blows me to after graduating from my doctorate at New York University (NYU), but the actual decision to make this Atlantic crossing was very spontaneous.<br />
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Let me explain some of the background preceding my decision. I kept extending my PhD in Economics to be able to learn sailing and to get the boat ready for an ocean crossing by the time I graduate. In July 2018, I got the very last permission to extend my PhD for another year. During the summer holidays I crewed on Jacek Rajch's 36ft sailboat Osprey across the Atlantic. On the way, I realized that my boat is still too much of a project and that since I decided to try my best to get a good job as a professor, I won't have time to get the boat and myself ready for any major offshore sailing – at best I might be able to bring my boat to Mexico ...if I got a job there.<br />
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Then I spent half a year selling myself into academia. I had to update my CV, rewrite my working research papers into a somewhat presentable form, and create a website describing myself as a PhD candidate looking for an academic job. At the same time I changed my Facebook name and hid my blog and any other traces of my peculiar life. That my efforts were rather unsuccessful I learned while setting up my job market presentation at a research institute in Prague – after their secretary checked with me that I succeeded in copying the slides into their computer, she asked me full of curiosity: <i>"And what will you do with your boat?"</i><br />
That silenced me for a second and in a shock I asked: <i>"Err err, ...how do you know about that?"</i><br />
She replied full of enthusiasm: <i>"We all have listened to your interview in Radio Wave..." </i>While I was remembering all the nonstrategic information I revealed in that interview, she added: <i>"But it's not better here than what you described about NYU, the students also lose their spirit after the first year of the PhD!"</i><br />
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It became a common practice for PhD candidates in Economics to apply to nearly 200 places. My aim was at about half of that number since the demand for economic theoreticians is low and the opportunity cost of submitting applications for a dislexiatician is high. However, I ended up applying even to much less places. The trick was in that the deadline for most applications was November 15, the day on which the first snow storm of that winter arrived to NYC. My wind forecasting application was showing red numbers starting from the afternoon that day. My boat was still off-the-shore on a mooring, and staying in the city was not an option for me since I already promised my boat-couch to two girls who were finishing their round-the-world trip. It would be a shame if the girls sunk after surviving all their adventures around the world, so I planned to leave my office early to increase the chance we get in the boat before the real storm comes.
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At 3pm I was still only half done with the applications, but I had to pick up the fellow adventurers and rush to the boat. The snow storm already did its job and the buses from Pelham Bay Park to City Island stopped operating. On foot we would arrive too late, so we had to order an Uber ride despite the peaking price (everyone was trying to get a ride in the traffic chaos). When we finally got to the marina on City Island my dinghy was already full of snow. The change of weather was so sudden, that the docks were still warm and melting the bottom layers of snow. Just imagine how slippery the docks must have been! Throwing the snow away and safely loading the crew with their backpacks into my tiny dinghy was more fun than usually:
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Now! Quickly! Let's row to the big boat! The wind kept picking up and my fingers were already freezing. I had to pay extra care to balance the dinghy precisely, as we were just a few inches above the water level. Luckily, the wind was blowing from the North and the waves in that bay don't build up from that side. Honestly, I was surprised how little waves we met despite the raising winds – I was ready for worse. I thought I could submit a few more applications from the boat using my mobile internet, but listening to the adventurous stories of my guests was a way too tempting. The next day my guests admitted that, especially after arriving from the warm Caribbean, visiting my boat in the middle of a snow storm redefined the concept of adventure to them.
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Once the job applications were sent, I had to prepare a presentation of my job market paper, and endlessly practice job interviews. I was not interested to get a job in the US despite the fact that the academic conditions are very favorable there. I sent my application all over the world, particularly focusing on Latin America as I've been interested in the culturally rich environment there – I love the people with an open heart who live from day to day, ...especially in contrast with the numb way of life in the US. However, I perhaps did not succeed in convincing any of the Latin American schools that I'm not as bad as I seem, and that I indeed see Latin America as my first choice, not as the last resort.<br />
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My situation in the job market was very peculiar. On the one hand, I was graduating from one of the top economic departments in the US, having a strong recommendation letter from my advisor. Thus, many institutions would perhaps disregard my application expecting me to be "too good for them". However, those who gave me a chance and had a second look could also notice that my PhD is going to take entire 8 years (assuming I indeed graduate) instead of the standard 5 or 6, and that I have not published any of my papers since I left Taiwan. And finally, those who went as far as Googling my name and searching for my website would instead come across the NY Post article describing my life aboard a boat with no toilet – doing my business either directly in the water or in the Church across the street. I guess that is how I lost my chance to spread my idealogy in the Pontifical Catholic University of Chile. Our courting went well until they perhaps conducted a background search on me; at least that is what I guess since the half-an-hour interview extended into an hour long discussion.<br />
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Adding all the factors together, I was lucky to get invited to give a job talk at least in some of the very democratic countries: Turkey, Kazakhstan, and Ukraine. I missed my visit of the Nazarbayev University in Kazakhstan since I lost half of my earlobe a few days before my flight and I was afraid to lose the second half due to the extreme cold there. Although I have good memories for my visit of both Turkey and Ukraine, I am very grateful for ending up doing a postdoc in Prague. CERGE-EI is a well recognized research institute and the postdoc I was offered came with great conditions. What is more, as they hired me despite for having abundance of inside information on me being more of a problem maker than a problem solver, I expect to feel well in their environment.<br />
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After signing up a job contract in Prague I returned to NYC in the middle of April 2019 being dedicated to make the best out of the last few months at the department of Economics at NYU. In particular, I wanted to use the support of their faculty as a guidance on the way to get my research ready for publishing. My plan was to leave my boat on a mooring in NYC hoping it won't sink during the three years of my postdoc in Prague, and that hopefully I will be able to come for holidays to NYC and do some sailing, or rather emergency repairs over those years. It seemed much more rational to just sell the boat and avoid having a liability on the other side of the big pond. However, as is a curse to every boat owner, the boat was symbolizing my dream, and I did not want to give it up. After returning back on my boat, I first had to do some work on it as I completely neglected it over the past months during which I focused all my energy towards getting an academic job. It took me a week or two to fix the leaks, clean the chimney and make the diesel stove work and wash out all the mildew. Being back on my boat, the feeling of being alive came back to me after losing my soul in the effort to myself look serious. The sparkle returned to my eyes and I realized that the boat means for me more than I thought. The hard work of preparing myself for the job market taught me some discipline and I realized that suddenly I'm also able to finish projects on my boat in a fraction of time. At that point the crazy though appeared, that if I kept going like that and dedicated all my effort to fixing the boat, I might be able to cross the Atlantic this summer and bring the boat to Europe. I was initially skeptical about bringing the boat to Europe as it might be cheaper for me to keep flying to NYC rather than paying for keeping the boat in some of the marinas in the Mediterean and yet having to fly there from Prague. Finally, I got the idea to bring the boat to Szczecin. Szczecin is only 5-6 hours by bus from Prague, I have friends there who can introduce me to the local boating community, and I really like the warmth of the polish people. I started contemplating about the crazy idea of crossing the ocean this summer, and in a few days I came up with the list of things that I need to get done to get the boat ready. I instantly made a schedule for the following 13 weeks, giving me a time frame how I need to progress if I want to be able to depart before the hurricane season starts. In the following four months besides defending my thesis and graduating from NYU, I did more work on the boat than I did over all the past years. I was organized and fully dedicated as never before. I started finding a new face of myself. Being always the man of the hypothetical thought, I was fascinated by discovering the man of the action in myself.<br />
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<h4>
What about the trip were you looking for the most?</h4>
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</h3>
Honestly, the thing I was looking for the most before we departed was when all the preparations would be done and I would have a moment to turn off or just to play with something that is not essential for the trip. I couldn't wait for the moment when I would be able to tell myself: "I've done my best preparing everything. We are in the middle of the ocean, if we forgot something, there is nothing we can do about it." On the other hand, the thought that the missing thing could be something essential was what kept me most uneasy during the preparations.<br />
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<h4>
How did you find your crew? </h4>
<h3>
</h3>
I would usually get crew by accident, typically it would consist of CouchSurfers who I offer to host with the condition that the boat will be moving and they will have to help me to steer the boat. Once I even jumped at opportunity when my Russian colleague got drunk at a school party and found himself on my boat the next morning, curing hangover by seasickness. My methods would work when I needed to get someone to hold my steering wheel for a day or two until the next chance to run away shows up. However, finding captives for all the way from NYC to Europe took more calculation.<br />
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Just imagine my situation! I found my way to graduate, I found my way to get a job, but now: <i>Where to find someone who has a month or two of free time, who won't get seasick upon reaching the open ocean, who is willing to crew on a sailboat that has even less experience on the ocean than its captain, and who is not an absolute idiot?! </i><br />
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A serious challenge was that I was requiring a financial contribution towards the boat maintenance. I'm fun of the free culture, but I don't accept being the one who would have to bare all the expenses just because of being the boat owner. I have no problem to accept the risks on my side since I'm the captain, but I want my crew to at least partially share the expected costs of the boat wear. I think that most sailors must have found my demands insane: <i>"This dude with almost no experience makes himself a captain and expects the crew to pay him for having the privilege to steering his old boat, which they have to help him fix first. Why won't I rather crew for free on one of the many luxury boats with self-steering and electric winches and yet get free food?"</i> I offered shared adventure while sharing expenses of it. Finding people interested in it was hard, but it attracted a diverse group of characters.<br />
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Initially, I knew Travis from Virginia. I met Travis via CouchSurfing two years ago when I was looking for friends in Deltaville – a little town in the middle of nowhere in the Chesapeake Bay, where I temporarily kept my boat at that time. Travis had a considerable experience sailing, great boat maintenance skills, and we sailed together from Deltaville to New York City a year ago.<br />
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When I mentioned my Israeli ex-girlfriend that I plan to cross the Atlantic, she recommended me a Facebook group for finding crew. Soon after posting in the group that I'm looking for mostly inexperienced crew to cross the Atlantic with, I was contacted by a German lady in her fifties who had done all kinds of extreme sports and in particular she got famous for continuing her adventures on a prosthetic leg after she fell while climbing. I thought that she would be the perfect survival buddy, the one that does not give up struggling with any situation until losing all her limbs. Unfortunately, the more we discussed the more I got the feeling that she was too opinionated and it would become a problem on the ocean. She raised a lot of good points and I appreciate her comments, but being a young inexperienced captain I can not effort to take with me anyone too dominant.<br />
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Interestingly, the second response was also from a German lady. Esther was a free-diver in her twenties. Her approach was kind of opposite. She was cool with absolutely everything: starting from making a financial contribution towards maintenance of the boat and helping with the preparations, and ending with the risks involved in a trip like this and me being far from being an experienced sailor. I liked her positive and friendly approach, yet I felt that it leaves me with more responsibility than I would wish. In contrast, people who asked me detailed questions could make me insecure about my role as a captain, but the discussions would make me feel that we partially share the responsibility.<br />
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Then I posted on Craigslist in the ride sharing section and I kept reposting for over three month. I kept getting responses from all kinds of people, yet finding the right characters among them was nontrivial. Eventually I realized that finding crew members among Greengos would be hard for multiple reasons. Excuse my judgement now, but in the most powerful nation in the world, people who are not self-centered, making absurd claims about their skills and qualities, or being helpless outside of the comfort zone, are somewhat more rare. In fact, I knew one perfect contra-example to this trend, someone I knew shortly and who I will never forget, but being a sensitive person, facing the reality of his own country led him all the way to suicide.<br />
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That being said, I think I was quite lucky for my crew. I also appreciate that all of the crew members got actively involved with the preparations for the trip, perhaps thanks to Esther who would never hesitate to learn new skills and get things done and who set up a perfect example to others.<br />
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<h4>
Who taught you yachting? </h4>
<h3>
</h3>
When I got my first sailboat 5 years ago as a place to live on, I knew absolutely nothing about boats. Engine was the rusted devil's machine under the entrance steps and sails were the bulky moulded bags occupying space under my triangle-bed. Two years later, I took a beginner's course of sailing offered by TASCA, a small club run mostly by retired Americans. Besides that the course was cheap, I liked the sense of community there. I learned some basic principles of the sail trim there, but the course did not really inspire me into sailing. The main pride of the organization was that during the thirty years of its functioning nobody got ever hurt there. The volunteer teachers were extremely precautious about everything and that made sailing to me as exciting as tying shoe-laces.<br />
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Nevertheless, I thought I should learn to sail since I had a sailboat. In fact, I already had three sailboats while I still did not know how to hoist a sail. I did not see any inspiration around. I mostly experienced two extreme types of neighbors. Those who had boat wracks for smoking weed on them; and those who had shiny boats to sink money in and maybe sail them once or twice a year. Neither of the two appealed to me. I had a boat to save money, not to spend money. What is more, I had other boats to rent them on Airbnb and make money.<br />
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Everything changed for me by meeting the legendary Polish sailor Jacek Rajch in August 2016. When my Polish friends told me about him and that he has just anchored in my marina. I did not hesitate, I grabbed a bottle of wine, and swam over to his boat. His boat was like a treasure land to me – full of ingenious inventions. Almost all he had there was made from parts he found on shipwrecks. He did not even buy any of his towels; he would usually find them wrapped around his anchor as a cause of the anchor dragging. A few days later Jacek sailed from Brooklyn to the yearly American meeting of Polish sailors (Polish Randewo) that was somewhere in Connecticut, so I made arrangements to join him. I had no sailing skills to show off, but I impressed Jacek as a professional hull scraper.<br />
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Soon Jacek sailed away and I started teaching as a TA at school, besides renting the two other boats I had. My first opportunity to make a larger sailing trip with Jacek was in January 2017. I hurried my family Christmas holidays in Czech, so that I could take the cheapest flight to Florida over New Years Eve. I was warmly welcomed by Jacek. I thought he would be celebrating as that was the way I remembered him. However, since there were no girls onboard, Jacek's care for NYE did not go far beyond sharing one shot of rum and going to sleep two hours before midnight, while listening to a scrapping radio.<br />
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The next morning, we went shopping at the nearby supermarket. Shopping with Jacek is a real experience, maybe even more interesting than the sailing itself. He won't buy much more beyond onion, garlic, wine and beer, but his comments on the other things you might try to buy were remarkable. Just to pick out an example: "Oranges? Apples? Why should we buy fruits? We have plenty of fruits! You did not see all the starfruit I got from Jurek?" The next most memorable moment was having breakfast with Jacek. He did not like my idea of cooking oats for breakfast, so we had bread with onions and tomatoes. Jacek suggested that we should first finish the old bread before opening the bread we just bought. I won't mind the baguette being like a hard rubber, but the smell was strange. I looked at it and noticed some mold. I showed it to Jacek and asked if I could take the fresh bread we bought. <br />
He said: "Nevermind, I'll eat it myself."<br />
-"But it is moulded."<br />
"Where? I don't see anything!"<br />
-"All these spots," I replied.<br />
Jacek took a dirty towel and wiped the surface off the bread, commenting: "Pavel, it's just penicillin."<br />
-"Are you sure?" I questioned.<br />
"Remember! White mold is yeast, green mold is penicillin,..."<br />
-"Jacek, but this mold is black, it's the deadly one!"<br />
"It's green."<br />
-"No, Jacek, this is black!"<br />
"Whatever, I eat it myself. I'm an old man, I only care to die before my wife does."<br />
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We took off in the early afternoon, ready for sailing to the Caribbean. However, as much of unreasonable good luck I have for myself, that much of unreasonable bad luck I bring to others. It did not take more than two hours on the Intracoastal Waterway before Jacek's engine suddenly overheated and stopped. All the engine oil was out in the bilge. Jacek instantly stopped the bilge pump and we collected all the oil. Should we keep the oil in bottles to later dispose of it at a gas station? No, we pour it back in the engine. After reading in books on how the oil and fuel has to be completely clean, dry, and multiple times filtered, this practice was quite new to me. However, we were out of luck trying to start the engine. The engine was completely seized as never happened to Jacek before. Finally, there was an opportunity for me to learn! Sailing in the light breeze against the current in the Intracoastal channel and trying to pass under a bridge was one of the lessons. As Jacek expected, the wind died while passing under the bridge that opened just for us and all the traffic was waiting for us to pass. We tried to move the boat by grabbing the wooden piles by the bridge pillars, but the contra current was too strong, and as the bridge operators were progressively losing patience with us, we had to give up. We anchored in front of the bridge waiting for the current to revert, but the anchor started dragging and soon we ended up grounded on the other side of the channel. I was happy to have an opportunity to learn the professional way to get off the ground without using an engine. The boat was sitting too hard, so we did not manage to move it. All we could do was to wait for the high tide. I suggested to cook dinner. "Cook? Why should we cook when we have fresh food?!" Jacek reacted. It was early evening already and we had no lunch at all, I was starving already. “Alright, so we will have salad for lunch and dinner”, I thought. I took initiative to make the salad. I made what I thought would be modest two portions. Jacek looked at it and said: "How much did you make? We will eat it for the whole week! What did you put in? You put in the whole paprika?! Whole Tomato? Two tomatoes?!" Jacek took a handful of the salat, suggested that I also take some, and told me not to worry, that we will leave the rest for the following days. I asked Jacek if he did not mind, I'd like to finish the salad as I was really hungry. This time he responded positively: "Sure, if you really want to eat all of that, it’s the best, at least we'll have no leftovers."<br />
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I spent the following three weeks watching as Jacek was fixing the engine under the guidance of his friend Jurek. For the first time of having the boat for over 25 years, he had to take the engine completely apart and replace the cylinder liners. I was really glad to have the opportunity to learn from someone else's misfortunes, although Jacek did not let me touch the engine. <br />
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I returned to my boat in New York City at the end of January. After spending three weeks on Jacek's boat only hearing stories about sailing I felt motivated to sail my boat. Since nobody wanted to join me in the freezing weather, I had to learn single-handing a sailboat in the middle of the winter.<br />
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I met Jacek a few more times. When I learned that Jacek was docking his boat in Virginia in the end of September 2017, I instantly decided to sail my Cheoy Lee 41 there from New York City despite my engine was broken and I just barely figured out some improvised way to rig the sails. I thought that the opportunity to dock my boat next to Jacek's and learn directly from the guru was worth the challenge. Not even talking about that I had to commute about 10 hours each way between Deltaville, VA to NYC each week to teach at New York University, while being homeless in the city. Jacek spent only a month in Virginia while my boat got locked there over the whole winter. However, even the short time he spent in my company brought him enough luck to break his mast in the Caribbean. Again, it was the first time that such a severe misfortune happen to him. Unfortunately for me though, I was not on the boat with him to learn how he fixes the broken mast by fitting a piece of another mast inside and riveting everything together.<br />
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I finally got the opportunity to cross the Atlantic with Jacek in July 2018. Honestly, there is nothing for me to be proud of about crossing the Atlantic this way. Jacek barely let me do some of the sail changes. Besides that, there were only night watches while the windvane self-steering and the wind generator were doing all the job. I was hoping for a storm or at least to have a chance to learn some boat maintenance from Jacek. Alas, no storm came and everything was fixed on the boat already – Jacek spent most of the days trying to fix his one-dollar torch. I was out of luck for any major misfortunes this time. We only ripped two sails, broke one of the two forestays, and cracked the windvane. We fixed everything by the time we reached the Azores and I had to be glad for these very few accidents to learn from.<br />
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<h4>
Which way you plan to do the crossing? </h4>
<h3>
</h3>
We will follow the Gulf stream as far as we can on the way to the Azores. Then we sail towards the coast of Europe, perhaps North of France. I would like to sail all the way to Szczecin, but I'm not sure if I will have time to go all the way there as we left late and I start a postdoc in Prague in September. Actually, we followed Jacek in tandem using VHF for the first three days, but then we lost connection and continued on our own.<br />
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<h4>
Who is your buddy? </h4>
<h3>
</h3>
The two people that helped me the most with the preparations of this trip were Esther and Travis. However, my special thank belongs to my Czech friend Jan Anděl, whose help is special by that he did all the work without expecting being rewarded by crossing the Atlantic on the boat. Honza booked his flight to visit me in New York City before I decided that I'm going to make this Atlantic crossing. However, he was flexible about the change of plans and instead of using my boat as base for his NYC explorations, he sailed with us to Virginia and dedicated over ten days of his holidays to hard work on fixing the sails and converting them from the roller-furler tape style to the old fashioned hanked-on style.<br />
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The trip would perhaps not happen without the mechanical skills of Travis. He got me lots of boat parts for free, we discussed the technical details of the boat almost every day even before he got onboard. I also learned from him how to do some of the boat work properly instead of relying on luck. I think we mutually inspire each other a lot, I see him as the one who has the technical skills and who knows the standard ways to sail a boat; while I have the courage, flexible mind, and energy to jump and quickly deal with any situation by improvising. The contrast between our approaches and personalities led to arguments that made Honza comment that observing us is like watching <i>“Pat a Mat”</i>.<br />
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Finally, the person who is crucial on this trip is Esther. She was really sent to me from the Heaven. Not only that she has done more work that all the others altogether, but mainly she has been the one who would resolve all the social conflicts into smile, whilst I had neither energy nor interest to deal with other people's shit. Esther came with no knowledge of sailing or boat maintenance, but she would always surprise me how fast she learns. I can't forget how I was struggling trying to repack the stuffing box. After one hour of removing the waxed thread from the tight space my hands were all scratched and I was not far from swearing. She asked me if I needed help when she was passing by. Looking at her beautiful delicate hands I was about to say that I have to manage myself somehow. Yet, I gave it a chance and said: "Actually yes. Could you try this?" She spent another three hours removing the waxed thread from even deeper spots. During the whole process she kept smile on her face and her hands got no scratches at all. Then she spent another three hours putting new waxed thread in. I was told to put in at least three loops, one by one, but this stuffing box sunk at least eight loops of thread. Perhaps any other girl would send me to hell upon my arrogant response: "It is still lose? So just add another loop of thread." While adding each loop meant unscrewing the stuffing box all the way, squeezing the new loop inside, and screwing it back,...all of that at a hardly accessible space. When Esther was done, it did not let me ask her how-come she can still be smiling after hours of such a tedious job. She replied: "I had a good time listening to the Greek legends that I found on your phone, and in the meantime, it got done."
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544584090479555709.post-62669568725909433302019-07-01T02:10:00.001-07:002022-01-13T07:23:00.482-08:00From NY Times to a Brazilian TVNY Times published an article about people living on boats. Don't expect anything juicy, NY Times has dry informative style compared to NY Post. <a href="https://www.nytimes.com/2019/04/26/realestate/house-boat-living.html" target="_blank">https://www.nytimes.com/2019/04/26/realestate/house-boat-living.html </a><br />
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A Brazilian TV then got inspired and made a detailed documentation of my boat.<br />
<iframe src="https://drive.google.com/file/d/1-7EcVtl1qqtSuaF6quP0t_WaH1vYHOUZ/preview" allow="autoplay"></iframe>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544584090479555709.post-4226850219757166652018-03-18T15:14:00.003-07:002018-03-18T15:16:06.309-07:00Patent Race with Private Information<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I presented my research at the Department of Mathematics of the Faculty of Applied Science in Pilsen, Czech Republic, the university where I did my Bachelor in mathematics. The first 20 minutes is in English, the remaining 40 minutes is in Mathematics. </div>
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/IhXH2CdcaNQ/0.jpg" frameborder="0" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/IhXH2CdcaNQ?feature=player_embedded" width="320"></iframe> </div>
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<b>Abstract:</b><i> I study the competition of two firms developing a specific technology. Firms make costly research efforts in order to increase their chance of making a discovery. Two consecutive discoveries are needed to be able to file a patent, and only the firm completing the discoveries first wins the patent. An essential and novel feature of my model is that the research progress of each firm is assumed to be its private information. Hence, a firm does not know the progress of its rival. Instead, it has a posterior believe over it. The model leads to a system of nonlinear ordinary differential equations that needs to be analyzed without having a closed-form solution. I conclude that a firm keeps decreasing its research efforts as it is giving up over time before making the first discovery. To the contrary, a firm increases its effort as it is aggressively striving to patent after making the first discovery. I also consider the settings in which the firms have the option to reveal about being successful, and I find the circumstances under which they would want to do so.</i>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544584090479555709.post-80956873555443231482018-02-11T08:23:00.003-08:002018-02-11T08:23:35.308-08:00My story presented on the yearly meeting of Czech sailor in Lipstat<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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The camera stopped two minutes before the end. Here is a summary of the last two minutes: I was explaining that I plat sail away from New York after I finish my PhD, which I've been doing for seven years already. In fact, I keep extending my PhD because my boat is not ready for crossing the oceans yet. I also mentioned that I had been thinking a lot about how to get money for my trip, since I only have savings from my scholarship. That problem got solved by my arrival to Virginia, where I found a lot of parts from wracks. Compared to New York, where even every screw is expensive, I could find anything for free in Virginia. At the same time, I learned how to dumpster dive in New York. So every week when going to my boat to Virginia, I was carrying a large suitcase of sandwiches and sushi, that I found on the streets, and I enjoyed it with my boat neighbors. So I found out that one needs for his life and for sailing even less than I thought.</div>
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Join me! If you like to join my next adventures, just drop me a line!</div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544584090479555709.post-75902726050288626992016-12-30T02:45:00.000-08:002019-09-28T14:09:08.946-07:00My New Years Night with a WhoreAfter I spent great evening talking to Daniel Vach, sharing stories and learning about his Cricket floor bars startup Sens Foods, I left the pub and I started looking for a bus to the Prague Airport. It was December 31th, 2016, about 2 am. The bus left just in front of my nose, so I decided to walk a few stops in order to stay warm and burn some alcohol. I enjoy the night scenes of Prague. Whilst the days are dominated by conservative locals and annoying crowds of tourists, the nights belong to the drunks and the rich underground. I was walking past a bench and I noticed a cheerful middle aged lady sitting – somewhat rare! Just think, it's the middle of the night, it's freezing, and she is happily sitting alone on a bench. So I commented: "Having fun?"<br />
She replied: – "Why you smile like that? ...you want a blow job?"<br />
"I think I'm good. But thank you kindly." (Really, am I sure what I'm losing?)<br />
– "Where are you going?"<br />
"I'm on my way to Miami."<br />
– "What there?"<br />
"There is a sailor I'm going to hang out with."<br />
– "Lucky you! Boy, come and sit here for a bit. ...you won't mind inviting me for some fire water – since it's the New Year – would you?"<br />
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We got into a conversartion.<br />
– "So you go to Miami? How much is the flight?" She asked.<br />
"About $300, not much, besides need to go to US anyways, I later continue to New York where I study."<br />
– "You must have reach parents to study in New York?!"<br />
"Not really, I'm paid by school."<br />
– "How did you manage that? The school really pays you? I want to study there too!"<br />
"I know some math, I think that helped me."<br />
– "Math? Holly shit, what's that? Hehehe, that's something I don't get. I admire you! How do that, something wrong in your head? I never could get those quations or what is it. I studied chemichal high school, you know... They gave me samples to analyze, I fucking drunk them,...by the end of the school, we were just making alcohol in the labs. But those quations were beyon me."<br />
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After a while I bought her a small bottle of vodka and coke. She took the bottle of coke, poured part of it away, and refilled with vodka.<br />
– "Do you also have fire water in New York?" She asked.<br />
"There is coke and vodka, but no fire water there!"<br />
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We got into the topic of her profession.<br />
"So you serve mostly foreigners, don't you? Germans?" I asked.<br />
– "Come on, locals are the best, the foreigners suck. Worst are the British!You'd think they come to Prague loaded with cash, but then they ask for a BJ and want to pay 200 Kč ($10). Am I a slat or what? Locals are the best, you know, it's different, I do a quick one and I get 1500 Kč." <br />
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She continued: "It's good that I met you, I'll warm up drinking, I get into the mood, and money come instantly."<br />
"What time you got here?" I asked.<br />
– "Just moment ago, when I met you. It's too early, customers come towards the morning, you understand, Pavel?"<br />
"How long will you stay?"<br />
–"6 am or something."<br />
"That's it, only 3 hours of work?"<br />
–"Sure! I do two quck blows and I can go home with 2000 Kč. You know, this is my life! Should I work as a cashier or something for the pennies they pay? I'm not insane! I sack a few ones and I get what those slaves sweat all month for!" <br />
...<br />
– "You know, sometimes I'm lucky. I finished with this guy and he asked me how much. I said 700. He was surprised that it is so much. Cheap ass! So, he went to the ATM for cash and gave me 7000. Then I understood. You know, they are often out of mind, it's like that, or I say 500 and he pays 5000, that happens."<br />
...<br />
– "Some people are strange. That guy, he told me to get naked on a table and play a han – Kocko-kocko-daaak, Kocko-kocko-daak, and like that. Then he got naked and started playing a kock – Kikirikee, Kikirikee, and went on jerking off! ...Holly shit, I was wondering what will come next, and then he wanted me to lay eggs.<br />
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"That sounds exactly like one of the stories in the radio series Tlučhorovi! You know Tlučhorovi? The endless stories by Kaiser and Labus."<br />
– "Ah, Kaiser! He is also my customer! He is fun, he always says that if I manage to find his little one while doing the BJ, he will pay me extra.<br />
...He pays well, once he was so drunk that he just gave me his card and a PIN. He told me – you will never have money because you are a whore, but just in case, I will teach you how to withdraw money now."<br />
<br />
I'm skeptical about someone claiming to know a famous actor closely, but the way her story was resembling the one I knew from the radio amaized me. Perhaps a radio listener of the Tlučhorovi series got real inspiration in it!<br />
<br />
– "Once my 32 years old son was passing by in a car with his colleagues here. He works as a policeman that idiot. He slew down as he was passing by and shouted out: 'Mum? What are you doing at this place, here at night?!' I said I had girlfriends here and I added: 'Honey, with your degree from the police academy you should know!' But he never figered that out, hehehe."<br />
<br />
"Your son is so old? I thought you were younger!"<br />
– "No, no, I'm 56, Pavel."<br />
"You look like in your forties! How long have you been doing this job?"<br />
– "Thank you, thank you. I guess its thirty years. The best times were before the revolution, I was living like a queen!"<br />
"And you never got any disease over all those years?"<br />
– "Come on, why? There are condoms no?! Look, like this. Besides, I do mostly BJs."<br />
"It never breaks? How cancyou make sure they use it? What if they do from behind?"<br />
– "I rarely let anybody in. I don't have mood for that, it's not for me any more. I don't enjoy it. You know, I won't have sex for months sometimes. You understand? When I need 15000 Kč quickly, then I tell him to do it from behind and I let him fuck my hand. They are often so drunk they won't recognize the difference."<br />
...<br />
– "Recently, I saw this beautiful, but really beautiful girl. Young, maybe 24. But really beautiful, you know what I mean? And after chatting for a while she told me she got Syphilis. She had it long untreated and it got all over her. She is gonna be on medication for the rest of the life. Luckily, I never fell into this. Or you know, many of these girls are on drugs."<br />
"Cocaine?"<br />
– "No, they are all on heroin, that is the worst. They get the that think, how is it called, you know what, ...after, when they don't have it. So they run without rubber to quickly buy more. That is the end!" ... "Many girls are homeless here. Before winter I was walking here past the water fountain and I saw this girl washing herself in it, her hair and everything. That is too bad." ... "I always lived well. I would buy apartments. I bought one for myself, one for my mother,...I bought a house there in the north. I always had good base."<br />
<br />
"How did you get in your profession?"<br />
– "Hehehe, I always wanted to be a bar tender. A friend told me that bar tenders are all whores. And you see, here I am!!!<br />
I saw my Mum how she would destroy her health working. So I told myself I don't want to end up like that. I was working in a bar, and then you know, step by step. In five minutes I would get what others for a month working long night shifts. And so what? Everybody does it!"<br />
...<br />
– "I didn't know what a tram or tube was these days. I was taking only taxi everywhere,...buying flats. Before the revolution, the normal monthly salary was 2,500 Kč, I could have it in an hour. Super! Others barely had any Tuzex vouchers, I was only buying stuff in Tuzex. And shortly after the revolution it was even better, you can't imagine how much we were making!"<br />
<br />
"I thought that everybody had to have a job during communism?"<br />
– "Come on! I just needed a stamp. Some cleaning..., we had friends, you know, it was easy to get a stamp."<br />
<br />
"You never had problem with macks?"<br />
– "Not at all, there are none here. They tried a few times, but the police caught them all, they have no chance here in Prague."<br />
<br />
"And how about there near the German borders, the E55 I mean."<br />
– "I worked there too, it was a paradise, but then as you say, the macks came, there are many gypsies there..."<br />
<br />
– "Look at these taxi drivers around here. They don't have much. It used to be different, but they don't have much. One said: 'Give me a BJ!' – 'How much you have?' – '200' – 'No, thanks, I have eaten!'"<br />
<br />
–"Next week is gonna be cold, like -10 C. Imagine those girls here, most of them will work no matter what, they have no where to go. I'm so glad I work only when I want. I just got a pension of 15000 Kč a month, so I take it easy. I live in the house there in the north, have indoor fire place, beautiful house with the view of nature. I watch deer right from my window. And then you know, I go to Prague time to time – to see my son, and I stop here to make a few thousands sacking D*cks."<br />
...<br />
–"I do everything myself, you know, what I don't do for myself, I don't get. These guy have schools, fancy jobs, and when something happens they are all screwed...and they ask for my help. You know, all those schools, useless!"<br />
<br />
"It's almost 4 am, I should go to catch my flight."<br />
– "When you have it?"<br />
"I think 6:30 or something, let me check. ...Hmm, so 6:00 already, I should better run."<br />
– "I need to work now anyways."<br />
"I'm a bad customer, I know."<br />
– "Never minds. But catch the flight!"<br />
"Happy New Year!"Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544584090479555709.post-78631291927573735632016-11-08T14:27:00.000-08:002019-09-17T02:23:25.218-07:00From NY Post to a German TV<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I met a great independent journalist who wrote <a href="https://nypost.com/2016/08/31/the-crazy-but-true-tales-of-new-yorkers-who-live-on-boats/" target="_blank">an article about people living on boats in NYC for NY Post</a>. It is a fun read, just don't take the detail description of my setup literarily (it is a mixture of my situation over the past years).</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmj9xPdR7M5EH9nqJ9K_6rFmrVQ4w_v3ZCDMST6W0U9TnQaDFM2b-AX6Fc6M0HuPxEZT0ndNUDiajckTR1oj_aDmnf9o-ovZ5d6oLatiTdiw0jxWr2xIXkA1BPEozyKb9mbk6g7T4xIPc/s1600/fullsizeoutput_907.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1408" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmj9xPdR7M5EH9nqJ9K_6rFmrVQ4w_v3ZCDMST6W0U9TnQaDFM2b-AX6Fc6M0HuPxEZT0ndNUDiajckTR1oj_aDmnf9o-ovZ5d6oLatiTdiw0jxWr2xIXkA1BPEozyKb9mbk6g7T4xIPc/s200/fullsizeoutput_907.jpeg" width="175" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht2NegLdUyKDKFDcEWDuclgTqUvie6Y6IoQ8WYfosZostto8u17BCixuYReboqjxeeFaFGwsuyHqgtMPbIBquvKMYMKNl_Yzv9pvCsIbHfnImLTQOHctD2qAeYB8kvnNdVaBchbG8dXTw/s1600/fullsizeoutput_90a.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1443" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEht2NegLdUyKDKFDcEWDuclgTqUvie6Y6IoQ8WYfosZostto8u17BCixuYReboqjxeeFaFGwsuyHqgtMPbIBquvKMYMKNl_Yzv9pvCsIbHfnImLTQOHctD2qAeYB8kvnNdVaBchbG8dXTw/s200/fullsizeoutput_90a.jpeg" width="180" /></a></div>
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After this article was published, besides for being kicked out of the marina where I was renting my boat, I got contacted by several more journalist, including those from a German TV: </div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544584090479555709.post-54276445521914564962015-05-28T16:47:00.002-07:002015-05-29T11:05:00.153-07:00InterviewThis is the full version of an email interview part of which was used in the article <a href="http://www.refinery29.com/unusual-homes-living-situations#slide-5"><i>Unusual Homes</i></a>.
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQV4BaKdriXZl5vndBlaI-7kz_0t90K0JwuuaYjEP4YrYGd6MoyLQozSJKTjT46UT2C9cfuv_US0lgLBpi1A3Y2nB_ucKJN3RsI31kVDFV-31xglGp09VQlX7UC0xWzTDEGSB9HNOhzQo/s1600/2013-11-23+16.11.21.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQV4BaKdriXZl5vndBlaI-7kz_0t90K0JwuuaYjEP4YrYGd6MoyLQozSJKTjT46UT2C9cfuv_US0lgLBpi1A3Y2nB_ucKJN3RsI31kVDFV-31xglGp09VQlX7UC0xWzTDEGSB9HNOhzQo/s320/2013-11-23+16.11.21.jpg" /></a></div>
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<b><i>Can you describe how you ended up living on a houseboat?</i></b>
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Pardon me, a houseboat? Do you mean my sailboat?
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It all started two years ago. I was unhappy about my PhD studies as I still did not feel excited about any of the topics in Economics. Then, I went for a weekend meditation retreat and during one meditation I suddenly got the idea that I need to have one year break to travel, and let the world, not the academia, inspire me into my research topic. Traveling was not what my school wanted me to do, the only reason I could excuse a whole year of absence for would be family reasons or some form of depression. Excusing myself for the poor health of my parents and then traveling instead of helping them would be too much even for the little morale I had; and convincing the faculty about having some kind of mental problem would not be a hard task for me, yet it won’t be the most appealing thing to have on my resume.
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Taking a one year break was not an option for me. So, I come up with a plan B: Travel over the summer and continue my PhD in NYC as if I was traveling. I hitch-hiked through Mexico and Central America, and after I came back to NYC I did not rent any place. I knew how to sleep just anywhere while traveling, so what should prevent me to do the same thing when living in the city? Besides, I lived in a jungle for three month when studying my Master Degree in Mathematics in Taiwan before, so all I needed to do was to adopt that way of life from the animal-jungle of Kaohsiung into the human-jungle of NYC. The beginning was not easy, I got some sleepless nights before I learned how to avoid poison ivy, mosquitoes, cops, and other pests.
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Over time, I got the knowhow for camping in the city and I became very comfortable doing that. I found all the beautiful parks, beaches, and rooftops that I had no idea about before. Only I missed about having an apartment was hosting travelers from the CouchSurfing project. But then, why not to break even that concept? I did not have a couch, but I had an extra sleeping bag, bivy sack and a camping mattress to offer. What is more, I knew how to hide! I did not get any “couch” requests for a while, some guys considered it as a plan B (or, a plan Z, to be more precise) on their trip, but then they got scared and never showed up. Ironically, as it was getting cold, I suddenly started receiving “couch” requests from young adventurous ladies.
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Having a question mark about waking up the next day, night by night, made me live wild even in respects that I am not so proud of. I was yet recovering a wound in my heart from losing two of my lovers when I met this beautiful spontaneous Colombian girl with a big heart and a great passion for life. The romantic natural scenery of the Prospect Park made us turn camping into camp-in. As we started dating, the winter arrived. The down sleeping bag I had was good in providing heat for both of us. However, in terms of room, it was not really enough for our extracurricular activities.
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Even reading the book “Kamasutra in a bag” did not help. And after all the unsuccessful attempts, I remembered that a new friend of mine, Tom, was offering his boat to me. I knew nothing about his boat besides that one-plus-one can sleep on it. Tom was too busy to show me his boat those days. Not realizing how much I was saving each month by not renting an apartment, he simply did not believe that a grad student could have enough money to buy a boat. Eventually, I lost my patience and I told him: “Come in front of my university, I’ll give a you a suitcase with $3,000 cash in exchange for your boat.” And that is how I came to my blue sailboat, Amarena.
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<b><i>How would you describe it briefly?</i></b>
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When buying it, I knew nothing about boats and I did not really like water. Soon, I learned that the blue boat with elegant rounded curves was a sailboat. It is not too spacious, but the way it is cozy matters more to me. When I visited my parents for Christmas after I bought the boat, I had no idea how to answer their question about the material it was made of. Later I learned that almost all recreational boats, including mine, are made of fiberglass.
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It is a 28-feet-long Ranger built in 1978. People say that a boat like that should be enough for crossing an ocean, although it was not exactly designed for it. As a backup for the sails, it has a diesel inboard engine: Inboard means that the engine is more reliable in a storm; and diesel means that the boat is less likely to explode.
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<i><b>What are some unique challenges you encounter in your living situation? </b></i>
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There are many things we take absolutely for granted when living in an apartment. You have electricity, toilet, running water, stove, heat, and you can walk out of your doors and you are on land. The situation on an old sailboat is quite different, especially if it is docked or moored at a low-cost marina. After I got the boat, I spent most of the winter in my home country, Czech republic, and in Colombia. Yet, the few days of living on the freezing and partly leaking boat was something memorable. A special moment was when I tried to heat up the boat a bit using a cheap portable stove and the butane was first frozen and then it exploded. The traveler I was hosting will surely never forget that night.
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<i><b>If you had to give a tip to someone who wants to do the same, what advice would you impart?</b></i>
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Follow your heart, the rest will come!
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<b><i>What's the most surprising thing that happened?</i> </b>
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There is always something surprising on a boat. I come back from holidays and the boat is half sunk, or I find an ice arena inside. When a storm comes, I am in the middle of all the noise and I don’t know if I wake up on the bottom of the sea or half way to the ocean. Except for the winter, my boat is moored about 5-10 mins rowing away from my marina. Sometimes I wake up in the morning and there are big waves, strong current, and I need to go to school to teach. You never know what can happen - exactly as it is in life - but the water force makes the unexpected things happen unexpectedly often. It is as if you lived thousand lives in one lifetime.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544584090479555709.post-57656688093656118542015-02-18T16:28:00.002-08:002015-06-05T04:53:08.570-07:00BathFor those who keep asking me how do I take shower on my boat. I don't take shower, I take bath in my jacuzzi!
<iframe width="560" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/a2rutikTIVY" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544584090479555709.post-74825897656783734292014-12-04T10:55:00.000-08:002017-05-10T07:18:33.964-07:00A dinghy trip to North Brother Island<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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I met a crazy free-spirited traveler passing by NYC. Her name was Fey. Hey! Let's do some adventurous before you leave!
I was thinking about bivouacking at creepy places in NYC, but none of that sounded challenging to us. Finally, I remembered one place in NYC I read about a year ago and it has been on my to-crash-on list since. The North Brother Island!
I originally found North Brother Island in the list of "10 Secrete Sites of NYC": http://www.buzzfeed.com/emmyf/10-secret-sites-of-new-york-city. Its main selling point to me was, citing: "Accessibility: Welp…it’s sort of impossible..." Besides, who knows what might have been happening on the island before it got abandoned half century ago - there must have been numerable people going through paranoia there.
I have a dinghy. I know a crazy fellow. And I've tried a dry suit on few times - giving me the feel that this piece of rubber could help me to survive almost anything. What should prevent us from going to the North Brother Island then? Still, there ware some factors making it a challenge: 1. My only experience with using the dinghy was the daily 5 min commute between dock and my boat, before I moved to the dock three weeks ago. Just once I made a trip to a nearby beach (1km away) and I remember that even that short rowing trip was kind of tiring - my dinghy is not really designed for longer trips. 2. The weather has changed since I moved from the mooring to the dock - it is colder, more windy, and time to time there are waves that could easily sink my dinghy. 3. I had no idea how long it should take us to go from City Island to the North Brother Island, I did not know if there are places where we could land on the way, and I needed to count with that the dinghy might sink anywhere on the way (once water goes in, it does not float).
Before the trip we went to rent a dry suit for Fey - my City Island friend Mike has a diving store nearby. Mike immediately picked the right size of suit for Fey. While he was finding all the pieces of suit, Fey mentioned to him what kind of trip we are planning. His first reaction was like: "Are you crazy? How are you gonna do it? It is far, you want to row all the way? There are strong currents, there are tug boats, the weather might get crazy... I have 20 years of experience with diving and I have gone through shit, this sounds crazy to me!" We spent an hour or two discussing with Mike. After hearing Mikes concerns about our safety, we turn the conversation into what we should do to make it safe and possible.
Mike checked the tide tables and explained us the best timing for our trip: "Do this and you will go along currents almost all the way. First, leave around 10am or 11am from City Island to Throggs Neck. Then catch another tide from there to the North Brother Island in the afternoon." People often describe the early stage of life as being Young, Strong, and Stupid. I used to be young, and since moving to City Island I feel young again. I have never been strong, perhaps "crazy" is my version of "strong". And stupid, yes, that is one thing I have always been excelling at. Nothing has made my life more fun and ridiculous than the S thing. Even this time the S thing did its job! Being too slow in the morning we started our trip too late. It meant that we had to go all the way to the Throggs Neck against the tide, taking us about 4-5 hours of intensive rowing instead of 2 hours of leisure. Besides, we missed the other tide from the Throggs Neck. I suggested we land somewhere, eat, get some sleep, and continue once the tide goes out way. I woke up several times over the night and watched the water. Wrong way, all night! Strange, the direction of the tides should change approximately every 6 hours, so I was expecting we could leave at 4am.
Late in the morning the tide became weaker and we gave up waiting. Again, hours and hours rowing against the tide. Going against the tide means that you don't want to stop rowing or you lose a lot of hard work in a few moments. Eventually, the tide became so strong against us that we were almost not moving even at the full PhD student's arms power. I suggested we better land and try to find some food. Our first trial to land was unsuccessful. A security guard kicked us out the property that looked like a public packing place to us. Anyways, I'm glad the guard did not fill us with lead. We went a bit further against the tide and landed on a mini beach that was part of a the Barretto Point Park. When we were entering the streets from the park I told Fey: "We should check what time the park closes so that we can get back" She replied: "It closes at dusk - which is now. Should we care? Can't we climb?" Feeling impressed I brought the attention of my eyes to the spiky metal bars at the top of the hight fence.
After having fun hanging around and filling our stomachs in sort of weird neighborhood, we came back to the boat. (Mike, don't worry, the reason we have no returned the dry suit to you yet is not that one of the spikes went though while climbing over the fence.) It was night already and we were excited to enter into the UNKNOWN. The North Brother Island! It took us less than an hour rowing to get there. I had absolutely no idea what kind of creepy people might have lived there at the point we landed. I proposed my standard approach to bivouacking: Hide self in a very discrete way and sleep. Fey replied: "Let's explore the island, no?" We left everything on the dinghy, I just took one oar in case someone attacked us with a knife. I was trying to walk silently so that we are likely to be heard and that we can hear if someone was to approach us from behind. Whilst I was pretty scared and ready for an action, Fey was chilling. What is more, Fey suggested "Let's sleep in one of the abandoned buildings!" It sounded attractive to me to face the fear of doing so, but then I did not really want to do it: I like sleeping in nature on fresh air. In my experience abandoned buildings have strong smells, feeling of darkness, strange energies,... I hate the sharpness of the corners of the concrete walls.
The next day we explored the island. Pictures can perhaps tell better. There were lots of strange machines (at least to me, I wish I knew a bit about those things). One building was half fallen down, many walls, floors and ceiling were missing - we had to jump from side to side in most of the rooms. I was holding to whatever I could find being ready for the floor to break. The biggest surprise on the island ended up to be the library whose floor was filled with random books. Imagine you just go and pick any book from the dust and search through it. Many books have notes and drawings done by drug addicts half a century ago.
We left the island late in the afternoon. Instead of going back we decided to visit my friend Poli who lives on a boat in Newtown Creek. It meant we would have to go down the East River - which we only knew about were Mike's words: "Don't even think about it - there are strong currents there." However, for stubborn people like us that translates into: "Remember! You need to try this - you will learn on the way". Before we left, I packed everything to be very ready to leave everything and only save our souls by swimming to any shore... and hopefully rescuing the yellow water proof bag with electronics too. Imagine, we lose one oar for example and a tug boat is going towards us; the only thing we can do then is to instantly put the fins on and swim away without hesitations or regrets.
First, we had to cross the Hell Gate. The tug boats we saw there before were very very fast. We had to watch carefully and cross from one side of the channel to another as fast as possible. The water was rough and waves were reaching the top of the dinghy. As we learned later, there is a good reason behind the name "Hell Gate". Once we got on the East River, we had strong currents going our way. Finally! It is so different to let the currents take you instead of fighting them all the way. They were so strong that I could not go against them even if I tried my best...meaning we were moving very fast towards my friend without much effort - except for watching for the boats and pushing the boat closer to the middle of the river where the currents were faster. Well, there was one scary moment when we passed by a whirl.
Finally, we made it to Poli's boat late at night. It was the first time I visited him in Newtown Creek. I was impressed by all the little ingenious tricks he uses to live the way he loves to live - breaking all the concepts of the consume oriented society. Ohh, Poli, I live your ways!
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544584090479555709.post-48578264777204453272014-11-13T11:40:00.000-08:002015-02-13T11:41:28.340-08:00Dinghy lost againTime ago a friend told me how he sometimes comes to his boat on a dinghy, puts everything on the boat including the ores and then realizes he forgot about the rope once he becomes helplessly being carried away from his boat by the drift. I though - sounds so silly - this is exactly what I fear of, so I always attach the rope to the boat before doing anything else. </br></br>
The day D came. I was coming back to my boat last night, thinking about what to do: I love to be on the mooring, being surrounded by water all around and being able just to jump down and swim around my boat every morning. People say that it is too dangerous to stay on mooring over the winter - you fall in the water while rowing and you have 5 mins of life left on average. But I want to break the concepts and push my limits. Nobody else here stays on a mooring over winter, but also nobody else goes swimming in this weather. I believe that I could train myself step by step to bare the cold water and be able to swim to the dock once my dinghy sinks; I could also have dry suit on when rowing in a really bad weather. And after all - the most dangerous thing in the world is not being in the present - your life slips away before you even realize you lived. Danger is one of the most efficient ways to keep your mind in the very present moment. </br></br>
So, I've been dealing with this puzzle - owners of my marina don't allow me to stay on the mooring over winter, and the mooring I was offered at another marina is too close to the bridge, so there is a lot of noise. And even if I find a safe way to go to the boat myself, how will I take care of the safety of my guest? </br></br>
Having my mind in the future brought its cost. </br></br>
I rowed to my boat around midnight, jumped on it, and started enjoying the beautiful view. I was looking around and...DAMN IT, don't believe what I see - my dinghy is floating away! And pretty fast! And this time not direction to the bay, but away to the Long Island Sound! If I don't act fast, I will lose my (beloved) dinghy! I did not hesitate a second: I quickly threw away all the layers of clothes I had on and jumped in the water. The water was cold, but it felt nice. I reached the dinghy and I did not feel like swimming all the way back to my boat in this water. I thought - here I have chance to try if I am able to get on the dinghy from water without flipping it over... The trial was successful. I lost one ore though, but with the help of the other ore I managed to bring it closer and pick it. So I'm on the dinghy with both ores - my dinghy and I are safe! Hmm, but where is my back pack...I forgot to attach the rope to the boat, perhaps I also forgot to put my bag pack on it. If it was on the dinghy it would have easily fallen in the water when I was getting on. I don't see it anywhere around. Hmm, with my heavy computer in it no wonder it does not float. And my brand new iPad in it! Should I remember the spot, put on my dry suit and dive there for it? Bunch of nonsense, I just did not want to admit I lost all that in one instance. So, I just rowed back to my boat ....and already from distance I see ....YES!!! My bag is on it! </br></br>
That night I felt so fresh! There is nothing better than losing everything and getting it back. Losing itself is refreshing, but losing and finding it back gives you yet another chance to lose it! It's like watching an exciting movie at cinema and getting a free pass for another one right after. </br></br>
From then on, Pavel and his dinghy has lived on City Island happily ever after!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544584090479555709.post-22750625180625817202014-10-30T10:13:00.000-07:002015-02-13T10:58:58.202-08:00The nicest birthday gift I ever gave myself!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCIJBedbMHmuJK9WDuSZcShu6MezcW-3Iq_XiziGcGPuFhv1WKn68ElpGB-qNOol3PpscOdyg0GW8UHlbQFM5Qtwh3BzB17aHl7-F90_-bIUdwAYQhJ9H85rMBek2sTGK6SkWo1KDZvOE/s1600/_DSC8963.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCIJBedbMHmuJK9WDuSZcShu6MezcW-3Iq_XiziGcGPuFhv1WKn68ElpGB-qNOol3PpscOdyg0GW8UHlbQFM5Qtwh3BzB17aHl7-F90_-bIUdwAYQhJ9H85rMBek2sTGK6SkWo1KDZvOE/s400/_DSC8963.JPG" /></a></div>
<br />
It has been almost a year since Pavel the Homeless turned into Pavel the Yachtmore.
<br /><br />
Living on a boat is beautiful, and in some sense it combines the spirit of camping with the comfort of an apartment (except for nonsense like bathroom, shower, electricity, or running water). Yet, I've been missing the GOOD homeless life: the freedom of picking a green spot on the NYC subway map late in the evening and going to spend the night there; entering an unknown place in the middle of night, pretending to be just walking around and suddenly jumping into the dark forest; sensing the strange energies around, feeling the fear and fear of the fear in my stomach and dissolving it – turning it into confidence while tasting the joy of fearless mind – the feeling so strong that those who taste it are willing to dye for it. Essentially, homelessing is like skydiving, except that it is free and ecological.<br />
<br />
Last week a friend invited me for a dinner to Jackson Heights. First I thought it was too far - not really on the way to my boat. And then I got the idea of sleeping in the nearby Flushing Meadows Corona Park. That park had been on my ToDo list last year for a while, but then I got so busy homelessing in all the other parks and hosting CouchSurfers there, that I never made it to the Flushing Meadows. Finally, the time to explore it came! <br /> <br />
After eating Tibetan food and having a beer in a fun Latin bar (I don't dare to drink more when going camping to an unknown place) I said good bye to my friend and took off to dive in a forest. Walking down the streets I felt like traveling somewhere between Mexico and Colombia – food, music, and life everywhere. Then I had to walk all the way along the park to the south part of it. It was a long way, unlike it looked on the map. All land was private here – museum, zoo, golf club,... and when I finally got to the spot which looked like a deep forest in the satellite map, I realized it was a lake. Heck, I'm not gonna sleep in a lake! <br />
<br />
Huge park, but no forest to hide in! Besides, someone might have noticed me wondering around for a long time – I didn't act professionally this time! Hmmm, hmm, ohh YES – let's sleep in the bullrush...I could not thought of a better way to hide! <br />
<br />
I set up for a comfortable sleep in my bullrush home. Perhaps it was my laziness (call it positive thinking if you want) that convinced me it won't rain. But clouds never lye, so soon after the rain started. And as it started, it continued all night. Sometimes more, sometime less. <br />
<br />
I learned how to sleep in rain without a tent during my collage years in Pilsen (Yes, the Pilsner Urquell beer comes from there). The university was 100 km away from my hometown Prague. Sometimes I had exams in two consecutive days and the easiest way to safe myself a commute was to camp near the university. Only I had was a thin sleeping bag, alu sleeping pad and lecture notes. I rarely found time to read the notes, but they always happened to be useful in protecting my kidneys from getting cold. And then, well, there were nights without rain, and there were nights with rain. And since I had nothing to protect myself from the rain, I just closed my eyes, breathed deeply to keep drying the sleeping bag, and just ignored the drops falling on my face. Once the university opened at 6 am, I would rush in shivering, get hot coffee from a machine and start studying. Perhaps I passed my exams just thanks to the cold, because nothing else would prevent me from sleeping. <br />
<br />
Unfortunately, the years of being young and stupid are gone – only the years of being old and stupid are left (unless I drink enough carrot top juice to brink my youth back). I can no more sleep under rain without bivy sack. I had one with me, but after sleeping in a comfortable boat for almost a year I became even more soft than I though. It was raining only on my face and hair that were sticking out of the bivy sack (I did something wrong, I think) and just that managed to make me uncomfortable. Luckily, I still managed to sleep, but it was not that deep refreshing sleep that one should have in a beautiful bullrush home. Besides, I was a bit nervous about my backpack filled with electronics (kindle, camera, phone,..). Hmm, the waterproof cover would be useful, why did I lose it already year ago!? I put the bag under my mattress and covered it by a jacket. Similarly I did with my shoes – that ended up full of water in the morning. <br />
<br />
Raining, raining, raining, raining on my face, raining on my hair, I move the jack, I move the bivy sack, I turn over, raining, raining (repeat 10-20x)...I look at my phone, hey, hey, it's 6 am already, still alive and the beautiful rainy morning is here, wake up bastard! <br />
<br />
The pictures tell the rest of the story :).<br />
<br />
In summary, bivouacking in the Flushing Meadows Corona Park was the nicest birthday gift I ever gave myself!.
PS. Great thanks to Lim, the Korean guy who cleans the Department of Economics. After he kicked me out of the university in the middle of the night during the first year of my PhD, we became great friends. Few days after my little adventure I saw him near my office. I was excited to see my friend and I rushed to say hi. He responded laughing: “Your office was full of mess, did you do it, hahaha, was it you Pavel?” <br />
Feeling a bit embarrassed I responded “Uhh, yes – you know - I went camping, but you need to see the picture! ...so now you understand how all the bullrush got in the office?” <br />
“No problem, I cleaned it, hehehe.” <br />
“But Lim, don't feel jealous – next time I take you with me!” <br />
“No, no, please! I better keep cleaning the building all night!”
<br />
<br />
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Last week I got a juice machine and 50LB of carrots for $20 in China Town. I hang the carrots in a net in my boat, so it did not turn bad and I've been enjoying plenty of juice every morning and evening for over a week. It gave me a lot of energy - despite of going to sleep after midnight and waking up around 6am I rarely felt tired. Yet, I doubt the quality of the carrots - perhaps there are fertilizers and pesticides getting to the juice. </br></br>
What to do then? Who knows the situation in US would probably agree with me on that although the junk food is for pennies here, most of the healthy food is insanely overpriced, making it barely affordable for the middle class people, not even mentioning that they would have to drive miles to get it. Here is an example of how much things cost on a farmers markets in New York: $3 for a bunch of carrots; $1 for a single apple. Not that I could not afford to buy it from the money I save by living on a boat, but it won't be my way of doing things. </br></br>
So I stopped by the Union Square Greenmarket on the way to school and I asked the sellers if I can take tops of carrots (the green part) and they ware happy to give it away to me. According to the book about vegetable juices I've been reading the carrot tops have similar nutritious value as the roots. Let's see how will it taste like - perhaps less delicious than the carrots, but that would be the last thing to bother me. </br></br>
I've been turning orange, it's time to turn green now!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7544584090479555709.post-25598893883205150922014-10-04T11:34:00.000-07:002015-02-13T11:50:51.002-08:00Lost DinghyI spent whole day around my boat yesterday - fixing things and getting the boat ready for the Saturday party (if I happened to forget to invite you, please go ahead and invite yourself - I always do so, and I can tell it works!). </br></br>
The water is pretty rough these days. After the time on water I find myself walking on a road feeling as if the road was swinging from side to side. The I sit in my office and feel my table is swinging from side to side too. How amazing no?! Not only that I save on living, but imagine how much I save on drugs that would give me this feel! </br></br>
The night before yesterday I lost my dinghy (not donkey, please don't confuse). It was attached to a metal leader and the waves were so strong that they broke the leader and the dinghy went off. Luckily my neighbor picked me up to the shore in the morning. He also told me not to go to school, but to search the dingy somewhere around the City Island bridge. So I started looking. I found a big cuboid of some float-able material on the way and I picket it up thinking it can save my life once my boat starts sinking in a storm. Then I got as far as to the Orchard beach, but my dinghy was nowhere to be found and I gave up. When I was leaving I saw a construction worker. He was waving at me with a black plastic bag so I went closer. He gave me the bag and said: "A sandwich". I thought he got a free sandwich somewhere, so why shouldn't he share it, but still I was curious. Then I said: </br>
"I lost my dinghy, haven't you seen it anywhere around?" </br>
- "Ohh, you lost that shit?..." </br>
"By the way, where did you get the sandwich?" </br>
- "In a store over there - it was my snack... I thought you were hungry...You slept in the park here, right?" </br>
"No, no, please take it back. I'm just looking for my dinghy here." </br>
- "I thought you were freaking bum!!!" </br>
"Hmm..." (looking at my clothes) "Do I really look like a bum?" (Of course I do!) </br>
"No, you don't.... But you were caring that piece of junk...." </br> </br>
I learned two lessons from this story: </br>
1. True generosity is when you are willing to give up your last snack. </br>
2. Wise generosity is when you don't give it to a rich PhD student. </br>
PS. I found my dinghy later in the afternoon, but that is just another story you don't want to hear. Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0