Voyage of the Rascal
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Welcome to Chile

4/27/2015

1 Comment

 
My first few weeks in Chile have been tremendous.  The people have been universally friendly and helpful.  The fare has been absolutely delicious with plenty of scrumptious seafood, tender beef, and delectable wine.  Even the volcanic eruptions have been colorful and non-threatening.  
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The Final Approach
It felt like a million bucks to finally have my anchor dug into Chilean soil.  I had lots and lots of leisure time during the passage, but never absolute relaxation.  I was always on duty to some degree.  That first night at anchor felt tremendous.  I had a little celebration with my last beer, slung my hammock on the front of the boat, and took in a glorious sunset over the farms of Puerto Ingles.  
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My final beer - chilled in seawater!
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I slept like a zombie that night and woke up feeling very well rested and ready to tackle the notorious Canal Chacao.  Canal Chacao is a narrow channel that runs between the Chilean mainland and the huge island of Chiloe.  It drains an enourmous portion of inland water, and its narrow width coupled with 20 ft tidal ranges means that currents can often exceed 8 or 9 knots!  Thats obviously much faster than the Rascal can go, so I knew I needed to get my timing just right.  The proper flood tide came midway through the following morning and I pumped up the superhighway (to use for auxiliary propulsion if the engine had issues during the transit), pulled up anchor and started heading towards the channel.

For a country that hasn't fought any wars in a very long time, the Chilean Navy (called "La Armada" which literally means "The Armed") has a very substantial presence.  True to form, just five minutes after leaving the anchorage, I found an Armada gunship across my path and heard a hail on the radio.  I fumbled my way through a spanish explanation of my situation, who I was and where I was going.  It is a requirement for all foreign yachts in Chilean waters to check in with the Armada twice a day via radio, if possible.  They were very polite and efficient and I continued on my way towards the neck of the channel.
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When I started getting close to the entrance to the channel, I saw my speed increase and the water started swirling around the boat, just like you see at the head of a rapid while you're whitewater rafting.  The water was starting to pull in towards the canal and it was swirling with the water of the bay around Ancud.  Even though there was no ocean swell in this area, the water was whitecapping with the speed of the current.
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The transit of the channel ended up being much more casual than I expected, though the Rascal managed to get up to 10.2 kts around Roca Remolinas where it gets narrowest.  No large waves ever developed, I had a nice light wind, and there were even sea lions playing around the boat!
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I alternated between sailing and motorsailing throughout the day, with generally cloudy weather, but a few breaks of sun.  I was really eager to get to Puerto Montt as fast as possible, but knew I'd never be able to manage it until the next day.  
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I passed through a bunch of small islands and saw a few little towns scattered through them.  The land and terrain reminded me a lot of the Canadian Marritimes that I went camping in as a kid.  Small, green, hilly islands - alternating between green pastures and evergreen forests that were really reminsicent of Nova Scotia.  It was also pretty similar to the San Juans - the cruising grounds that I learned to sail in a year ago!

There were lots of fishing boats working back and forth as well as some cargo carriers headed into the islands.  I also got my first tastes of the salmon and mussel farming that is such an enormous part of the economy along the Chilean coastline.  
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I soon came to the relatively large town of Calbuco and was somewhat astounded to see so many houses and people after more than a month at sea.  
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I had just passed Calbuco when I heard a splash behind the boat.  I turned around, and to my surprise, I was greeted by the Chilean Welcoming Dolphins!
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They were frollicking their little hearts out and raced their way up to the front of the boat to play in the bow wave.
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They zipped and whirred in front of the boat for nearly a mile and it was an absolute joy to have such a friendly, playful creature to interact with after the lack of animal life in the South Pacific.  
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I continued twisting and turning my way through the islands until sunset and anchored in the lee of Isla Huelmo to give myself a short sail to Puerto Montt the following morning.
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Checking In
I pulled into the marina around noon the next morning after a short sail and a quick tidying of the boat, and I was immediately met on the dock by a pair of friendly smiling faces!  I was unsure of the direct Galapgos to Puerto Montt route in the beginning, but another sailor in the Galapagos had put me in touch with Clint and Reina on S/V Karma who had completed the sail just before me.  They had sent me a bunch of info before I left (that was encouraging enough that I decided to sail the direct route) and they happened to be in the marina in Puerto Montt when I arrived!  It was my first time talking with people in 37 days and it felt great to be back in civilization!  It was also great to be meeting them in person for the first time after all the great advice they gave me for the passage.  

I went up to the marina office and started the proceedure of checking into Chile.  You need to wait on the boat until customs, immigration, agriculture, and the armada officially allow you to enter, but my friends on Karma offered me a cold beer and waiting around for an afternoon isn't such a big deal after waiting around for 37 days, especially when you're drinking an ice cold Escudo!  I also had internet, so I was able to get in touch with my friends and family via skype.  All of the government officials that came out to the Rascal were very efficient and friendly and several of them struck up conversations and asked me questions about myself and the voyage. 

It was around 9pm before all of the officials  were done checking me in, and one of my marina neighbors invited me over for a glass of wine.  Richard had all sorts of great stories and info for me.  He just recently transited the northwest passage (sailing around the top of Canada!) and is planning to sail his red steel schooner down to Antarctica.  Clearly there is a different caliber of sailor down in Chile!

Puerto Montt
I took the bus into town the following morning (a man I met at the marina gate let me borrow bus fare to get to the bank!) and I finally got my first taste of Puerto Montt.
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Chile is a very very long country, more than 2300 nautical miles as the crow flies from the Peruvian border to Cape Horn.  For some perspective, this is the same distance from Sitka, Alaska to Cabo San Lucas, Mexico.  The climate varies greatly from north to south, with exceptionally arid desert in the north and glaciers in the south.  The northern half is a fairly featureless coastline, but the southern half is all islands and fjords with lots of narrow channels and tall mountains.  Because of the rugged climate and terrain, the southern half is sparsely populated and Puerto Montt is the last big town.  Thus, the entire south half of the country depends on Puerto Montt for food, building materials, transportation, and a huge host of other things.  It’s truly the gateway to Patagonia.  
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This part of Chile was settled by lots of Germans and the city of Puerto Montt feels kind of like a cross between Bavaria and Mexico.  There is a good bit of German architecture and the butcher shops will knock your socks off.  At the same time, it has a decidedly Latin American flair, as the markets and music will attest.
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I walked around town for a couple of hours, looking into shops, exploring markets, and perambulating along the waterfront.  I dove into street food with reckless abandon and had more than my fair share of empanadas that morning. 
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As I started to make my way back towards the marina, I noticed that my feet were starting to hurt really bad.  I was stricken with a case of “sea legs” that would plague me for the next couple of weeks.  My feet and legs had atrophied very severely during 37 days at sea.  I paid a heavy price for that first morning jaunt, and I couldn’t walk more than a couple hundred feet at a time for a week afterwards.  It felt like both of my feet were cramping all the time and I was worried I had thrown a blood clot or something.  They’ve since slowly come back into shape.  I think plenty of red meat and hiking has been good for them!

During those first few days, Clint and Reina really took me under their wing, showing me all sorts of shops around town, introducing me to super helpful people, and answering a huge host of questions.  One night, we went to visit some Italian friends of theirs that are cruising around on a gorgeous catamaran.  The dinner was spectacular, with homemade bruschetta, glorious Chilean wine, and some Italian empanadas that were to die for.  I’ve gotten to hang out with the Italians and their Australian friend several times since then and I’m hoping to do some cruising with them later this winter.  They’re all really warm, welcoming people.  
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S/V Karma heading for Chiloe
They also introduced me to Raul, a Chilean sailor I’ve been spending almost every day hanging out with.  Raul has had dozens of different businesses over the years, from leading tourist trips down to the glaciers to inspecting salmon farms with an underwater robot.  He is fascinating to spend time around, and he is always explaining little bits of Chilean culture and history.  For instance, did you know that the town of “Aysén” is a corruption of the English “ice-end” because it’s where the glaciers stop showing up along the coast?  He is a wealth of knowledge about the territory south of here and has given me all sorts of advice on islands to explore and different anchorages to check out.  Raul has a vast library of guides and charts of the south and he has been super generous in letting me borrow whatever I want.  He is even letting me use his mooring in the channel, a 3000lb steel anchor that keeps the Rascal good and secure!
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Sunset from the mooring
Every day is a great adventure with Raul and he has been helping me immensely with errands around town.  For example, one afternoon Raul needed to collect firewood for his house (the vast majority of Chileans heat their homes with wood) and he knew I needed some for the Rascal as well, so he drove by the mooring and picked me up.  We drove first to visit a friend of his who knew where good firewood might be found.  His friend, Mario, invited us in for tea and we spent a little while chatting with him.  It turns out that Mario has a small organic farm and we went out to explore around it.  In the end, he sent us packing with a bunch of fresh tomatoes, cabbages, squashes, and artichokes!  From there we proceeded to down a dirt road into the woods and met up with an old farmer that was quite apparently drunk with his buddies after a morning of drinking ciders.  We loaded up the back of his truck with wood and continued down the road.  We were close to the Italian’s catamaran, so we stopped in there to pick up an outboard engine they’d sold to Raul and they invited us in for tea and interesting conversation, as well!  Finally, on the way home, we decided to stop and grab some delicious beef empanadas from a roadside stand.  What started as a quick run for wood turned into meeting a bunch of interesting people, learning about organic farming, and several tasty cups of tea.  

Over the course of the last two weeks, I’ve been able to fix my engine (reassembled the heat exchanger with the proper seals and rewired the starter with appropriate connections and protections) and I had a new part cast and machined for the tiller.  There were also a handful of other little projects around the boat, including a malfunctioning auto pilot that was fixed simply by laying out in the sun – a prescription that has been enough to fix me on a number of occasions. 
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The autopilot story is pretty classic, so I figured I ought to tell it here in detail (and to help anyone else thats having similar issues in a foreign port with access to the interwebs).  It is the electrical instrument that steers the boat on a magntic course for me while I'm motoring.  Its a Raymarine ST2000+ and it started turning itself off on its own a couple months ago, with the display flashing off occassionally.  It seemed like maybe a loose wiring connection on my part, so I totally rewired the system with great connections and everything heat-shrunk.  I flicked it on to find that the screen was even more garbled than before and it wouldn't respond to any button presses any more.  A quick exploratory search of the interwebs didn't reveal any answers, so I checked to see if there was a Raymarine dealer in Puerto Montt.  The closest was hundreds of miles away in Concepcion.  "Perhaps their call center will be of help," I sarcastically thought to myself.  After holding on skype for 20 minutes, someone picked up.  I gave them my symptoms and they said, "Sounds like the board is bad, better send it in".  This would obviously mean a ton of cash in shipping, months without an autopilot, and I asked if it might be possible to crack it open to troubleshoot it over the phone.  "DEFINITELY DON'T OPEN THE UNIT!" was the resounding answer and I was left with the option of either shipping it back to the states or driving a couple hundred miles to Concepcion where they had no repair services and none of the auto pilots in stock.  "Thanks for your help," I tried to say without too much angst, and I hung up. 

Naturally the first thing I did after hanging up was cracking the unit open.  It was immediately clear that the "waterproof" tillerpilot had a bunch of moisture inside.  I spent five mintues wiping droplets up with a papertowel and set it in the sun to dry.  I assembled it later that afternoon and it worked like a charm - as good as new.  
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7? What does 7 mean?
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Brain surgery
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The soggy compass
I’ve gotten to know Puerto Montt fairly well, and though it can be a little rough around the edges, it has a pleasant authenticity and all the people have been genuine and kind.  I’m glad to have such a perfect home-base for my adventures over the course of these next several months.  
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Puerto Varas
A friend back in the states also put me in touch with a Bucknell grad who has been living down in Chile since we graduated (we were in the same class year, but didn’t particularly know each other back then).  Jess lives in Puerto Varas which is a lovely little tourist town beside a lake that is about a half an hour north of Puerto Montt.  Puerto Varas seems to have even more German influence than Puerto Montt and it’s a very clean, charming town.  From the center of town you can see two enormous volcanoes rising above the lake, Volcán Calbuco and Volcán Osorno.  You’ll hear more about them later!
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Jess started working for a Chilean startup incubator shortly after she graduated and opened an organic baby food company with a business partner three years ago.  They’re growing by leaps and bounds and they distribute in North and South America, so she spends a fair bit of time traveling.  We met up a few days after I arrived and went out to a nice Chilean steakhouse.  I’ve had more than my fair share of ribeyes over the years (as those that know me will attest), but this one was truly spectacular.  Easily within the top 5 – as you might expect, Chilean grass-fed beef is no joke.  
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Jess has a wonderful group of friends and she has been kind enough to include me in a bunch of different social functions around town, from pisco sours & an art opening to a big birthday cookout!  I’ve been traveling for so long that I really miss having a solid group of friends and getting to join into the festivities was a blast.  The food at the cookout was next-level and very Chilean from what I’m told.  It started with ribs, chicken, sausage, peppers, and onions all roasting in a huge pan.  Once everything was cooked through and starting to smell delicious, a couple liters of white wine were added and mussels and clams were scattered on top.  As you might expect, the finished product was absolutely delicious and I could easily drink nothing but the broth for the rest of my life.  
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Puerto Varas has a lot of tourism during the sunny summer months and most of it centers on outdoor activities like kayaking or hiking in the surrounding mountains.  The land all around town is green and gorgeous, with a couple little villages tucked between the hills and the lake.  
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 Jess let me borrow her car one day and I drove up Osorno to do some recon on the ski area as well as a little hiking around.  The forest was absolutely gorgeous with lots of nice views out over the lake, but the top of the volcano was totally shrouded in clouds.  …which was good motivation to stop at a refugio at the top of the road to drink a beer and wait for the weather to clear.  
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After some more hiking around in the woods, I worked my way down to a river that runs between the volcanoes and decided I ought to take a quick dip.  Fresh water is something of a novelty at this point, and I’ve got to take advantage whenever I can!

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The Eruption of Volcano Calbuco
I’d been searching for some way to try and help repay Raul for his kindness and one day he let slip that he’s “getting too old to chop wood”.  I happen to love splitting wood, so he gave me a ride to his house one afternoon and I went to work on the pile.  While I was chopping, he told stories from his time sailing around in the south and blended up a couple of fresh orange juices.  Incredible.

After everything was split down to a manageable size, we went inside and started perusing his vast library of nautical charts.  He kept pulling out new charts, browsing over them for a few seconds and then he’d let out an exclamation, “Hey! Look at this island - it has a hot springs right next to the anchorage and towering Alerce trees!” I sat there taking notes as fast as I could and making sure to mark all the best fishing places and anchorages that were free of ice bergs.  “My friend Heinrich lives on this peninsula and you can hike up into this canyon with the fisherman’s son!”  On and on these inconceivably spectacular tips flowed, until Raul’s daughter piped up from the other room.  The volcano was erupting. 

We all looked out the window our jaws dropped.    
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Already people were streaming out into the street.  Dogs were barking, people were staring up at the sky, cameras were flashing, and we were staring in awe.  I looked over at Raul.  Raul looked over at me.  “This looks like a big one, huh?” I asked.  “Yes,” he said, “This is a big one.”

I’d like to think I’ve seen a fair bit of nature in the past year of sailing, but I everything else paled in comparison with this.  It was so enormous and felt so totally and completely powerful.  Volcano Calbuco was about 20 miles away, yet we could see the ash billowing up as if the peak was right on top of us.  Once it hit a certain height, it spread out, and was starting to look something like a mushroom cloud.  

Raul made a really poignant comment to the effect of, “In the eyes of the volcano, everyone is the same and everyone is nothing.  Fishermen, politicians, welders, policemen, and beggars are all humbled in the face of a force as strong a volcano or an earthquake.”  It’s interesting the way a natural disaster like that can erase the differences between men. 

Raul decided the safest place for them was on his boat and they dropped me off on their way to the marina.  My tiller was still in the shop at this point, so I knew there was no quick way for me to sneak out of town.  I grabbed my emergency ditch bag and zipped out in the Superhighway to start taking pictures just as the sun was beginning to set.  The entire mushroom cloud of the eruption lit up and slowly changed colors as it built and expanded.  Flashes of lightning continually danced around the base of the column.  It felt, for an instant, like I was transported back to some ancient time, where the earth was still being formed and dinosaurs were roaming around.  Everything about the scene was unreal. 
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As the sun continued to set and the colors began to fade, my mind shifted gears and I started planning for the next few days.  I figured I'd potentially need fuel and I had to find a way to steer the boat without my normal tiller.  I zipped off towards the marina to fill up jerry cans.  
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The radio was humming with reports of the eruption and thousands of people were being evacuated from around the base.  Westerly winds dominate in this part of Chile and a peek at the forecast showed that we would be safe from any falling ash for at least a few days.

I got back to the boat as night was falling and I got to work rigging an emergency tiller with an axe, some vice grips, and a few voile straps.  MacGyver would've been proud!  It was ugly, but it was enough to steer the boat.  
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The eruption eventually stopped shortly after sunset, but the enormous cloud of ash still hung high in the sky and continued branching out as the night went on.  I went to bed around 1am and missed the second eruption (which apparently had lava flinging into the sky, and substantially more lightning - the pictures online are incredible!).  I woke up around five and went out to the other side of the island to try and get some long exposure shots of whatever was left.  You could see a bunch of suspended ash and cloud hovering above the lights of Puerto Montt, but not much else.  
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A morning fog slowly descended on Puerto Montt after that and we didn't get a view of Calbuco until that afternoon.  She was still quietly belching ash and smoke into the air, but wasn't nearly as menacing and awe-inspiring as she was during the initial eruption.
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As of this writing, she continues to slowly expel more ash and smoke and there are no signs of her slowing down (nor signs of another large eruption).  
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As days went by, they eventually began to let those that'd been evacuated back into their homes.  There was rain in the forecast in a few days and with the heavy load of ash that had fallen, rain would be a death sentence to any roof that hadn't been cleared yet.  Insurance is very uncommon in Chile, so when a roof caves in, families loose everything.  Out in the country, lots of folks are just struggling to make ends meet.

Jess called me with plans to go up and help with the cleanup effort and I decided to tag along.  A big group of her friends showed up, armed with shovels and brooms and we slowly made our way into the ash fall zone along with a bunch of rescue workers and huge military trucks.  At first, it just looked a little dusty, but as we got closer and closer, the ash began to pile up.  It looked like a big snow storm, with ash covering the ground and a  blanket of gray over everything.  
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The further we drove, the deeper it got, until a uniform 8 inches was covering everything as far as the eye could see.  The ash wasn't at all what I was expecting.  Its nothing like the ash you find in the bottom of a woodstove, instead its like little pebbles of concrete.  If you think of what the inside of a mountain might look like, and then imagine that material exploded into a bunch of tiny pieces (ranging from a fine sand to 3/4 inch chunks, you've got volcanic ash.  Thus, you can imagine how heavy 8 inches of concrete would be and how much damage that would cause in an area where construction techniques are still fairly primitve.  The military had plowed the ash into big banks along the side of the road so that cars could pass.
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We soon found some houses where nobody had been in to help yet and we went to work shoveling and sweeping ash off of the roofs.  It was immensely heavy, and somewhat astounding that any house could withstand such a weight.  
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While it was tremendously sad to see such destruction, with homes collapsed and people’s livelihood ruined by the thick blanket of ash, it was also quite heartening to see how many people were there to help and how quickly people were able to make a difference.
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It was hot, sweaty, dusty work, but we made quick progress and soon had several houses cleared.  As we worked deeper into the countryside, it became obvious that the plants and animals were suffering just as much as the people, and much of the aid that arrived consisted of fodder for livestock and water that wasn't contaminated with ash.  
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As with anything, it wasn't all doom and gloom and we spent a good portion of our time honing our air guitar skills.
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Future Plans
I’m leaving today for an exploratory mission into the fjords.  I figure it’ll be good to get my feet wet while the weather is still good and I’m still close to the supply / repair facilities in Puerto Montt.  I must also admit that I’m really chomping at the bit to dig into the real part of Chile after being in port for a couple weeks. 

This trip will also help determine my course for the rest of the winter.  I should have a lot better idea of the feasibility of skiing from the boat once I’ve gotten a better look at the terrain and accessibility of snowfields.  In addition, I’m planning to catch a few king crabs, soak in a few hot springs, and maybe even drink a couple bottles of wine.  Wish me luck!
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1 Comment
Joan Szumieszz
4/27/2015 07:35:46 am

This blog has been so interesting and inspiring!
Your travels have been such a wonderful experience and we are learning so much while you travel and tell us all about your experiences and folks you meet!!
Thanks for sharing your travels and fun with us!!
It's been great!!
Love all your photos!!!
Can't to hear all about your next leg!!
Love ya,
Joan

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    Dwyer C. Haney

    Grabbing life by the horns and tickling it behind the ear.


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