Three Men, Two Mains and One Lost Bucket
Mexico did not want us to leave. Not because storms were coming. Not because the Pacific is dangerous. But presumably because somewhere a photocopy of a photocopy was still missing to confirm that another photocopy had indeed been photocopied.
By the time Crispijn, Jip and I finally cleared out of La Cruz, Mexico, we had survived three days of bureaucratic combat and enough paperwork to qualify as minor government employees. And honestly? Mexico was still wonderful. For the previous year-and-a-half it had given me surf, whales, sunshine and some of the best time of my life. But on April 22, after a proper crying session with my Mexican girlfriend, immigration, customs and the port captain finally waved us goodbye and we pointed The Seahorse west. Ahead lay 3,000 miles of Pacific Ocean.
I’m Andries Bik, 47, lifelong addict to surfing, snowboarding, skateboarding, wakeboarding and kickboxing — until my body politely suggested another hobby. So I moved onto a sailboat 13 years ago and never moved back ashore. My home is a 1997 Beneteau Oceanis. My philosophy is simple: If it ain’t broke, don’t try to fix it. And if it is broke, and you cannot repair it with tie-wraps, duct tape or a hammer, it probably does not belong aboard.
My ocean-crossing team represented two entirely different schools of thought. Crispijn Hartzema, 40, 2 meters tall, big-wave surfer and professional climber, is the type of man who works on oil platforms where safety is sacred and every bolt has paperwork. I would cross an ocean with a surfboard as a backup liferaft. He arrived with three personal beacons, an EPIRB, Garmin InReach, VHF and enough emergency equipment to evacuate a small airport.
Then there is Jip Lommerse, 23, fitness machine, charter captain on a catamaran in Bonaire and human Labrador retriever with limitless energy.
The Seahorse has three cabins, all with their own heads, and to me those matter as much as the sails. People romanticize ocean crossings. Experienced sailors know civilization begins with sleep and some privacy, including toilet time after coffee without smelling up the rest of the team.
