People always wondered how did a 300#, 6’4″ tattooed outlaw biker become a world cruiser. It’s not your normal story, but it’s all true!!
Introduction By Captain Sue Morgan
The mid ‘70s through the ‘80s were a unique time in King Harbor, Redondo Beach, CA.
Boating in general was at a peak and there was a long waiting list for slips. There was a huge live-aboard community both in the marinas and at the mooring field in the outer harbor. Everybody became friends with people you’d probably never meet if it wasn’t for the common denominator of boating. Old, young and everything in between, doctors, lawyers, engineers, construction workers, mechanics, secretaries (remember those?) all hung out together.
No one really cared about what you did; it was all about boats and life aboard. Once we shed our business attire and we were in our boat clothes we were all the same. Everyone blended in. Almost…
Bob Bitchin did not blend, nor did he make any attempt to. His sheer size made him stand out, but he was also obviously a biker. A rather scary, I think I’ll cross the street to avoid making contact looking biker, with more tattoos than I’d ever seen before. He dressed all in black and wore some very menacing looking jewelry with spikes that would take your eye out. We didn’t know what he did for a living and weren’t sure we wanted to. Needless to say, he did not look like a boater, let alone a sailor.
We got to know him when our friend, Guy Spencer, bought Bob’s boat Outlaw. Bob had just bought the first Lost Soul and was already planning to go cruising, as were many of us. He became one of the liveaboard community and hung out with the rest of us talking boats, cruising equipment, provisioning, etc. Despite appearances he was friendly, funny, smart, and he really was a sailor. He was one of us.
Excerpt from A Biker To Sailor
It was a blustery day, blowing about 55 knots in the Alinuihaha Channel between the Big Island of Hawaii and Maui. The seas were running about 30 feet, but we were running downwind and at an angle to the swells, so it wasn’t too bad. We had a triple-reefed main and just a handkerchief of a headsail out, but we were still managing a respectable 8-8.5 knots. I was at the helm because the autopilot, “Fred,” just couldn’t handle it when we slid down a wave face. with this much wind? The only thing that could cause that would be…” And as I looked around and back over my shoulder, I saw what had blocked the wind. It was an 80-foot wall of water! I knew it was at least 80 feet since my mast was 74 feet, and it was well over that. And as luck would have it, the very top was crystal clear.
Okay, now anyone in the class have an idea why this is a bad thing?
Yup, you got it. Clear at the top means the wave is about to break!
So here I am, standing at the wheel of my 42-ton, 68-foot ketch, Lost Soul, without a harness on (okay, we’ll get to that later!) and I am about to have an 80-foot wall of water come crashing down on me. It was a rogue wave. That’s where two large waves running in slightly different directions cross. It was two 30-foot waves crossing, which made about a 50-foot wave. But when measuring a wave you need to include the distance into the “valley” between the two waves. We were in said valley!
As the wave started to pass beneath us the boat did what it was supposed to do. It floated up the face. However, there was a small problem. As we were quartering the wave the starboard side had less water under it than the port side. This caused the boat to roll to starboard. As we drifted up the face of the wave the boat started to heel at a pretty steep angle. And then we were high enough on the wave for the wind to catch the sails.
Fifty-five knots of wind in the sails heeled us even more.
I wrapped my arm thru the 42-inch woodenspoked. wheel at the helm and locked my arms tight. As we reached the top of the wave the boat had rolled to about 45 degrees… and then the wave broke. The mast went past the 90 degree angle. The deck was past being vertical to the sea and I was kinda hanging in mid air from the ship’s wheel.
This was about where I decided perhaps my rule aboard Lost Soul might need re-writing. My rule was that in bad weather everyone but the skipper had to don a safety harness. From this point on the rule would be re-thought!
