Those free-spirited seafaring ways Lindsay McRory February 7, 1996 The biggest misperception many people have about cruising has to do with being master of your own destiny--sundown gin and tonics, setting sail at a moment's notice for secluded spots. In reality, that's a good stretch from the truth. The weather owns the gearbox here. We wait for the right buttons to be pushed so we can scurry from one place to the next. Even while not "on the road," we have been careful. There have been three tornado warnings and numerous severe weather watches since we've been here in Titusville, Florida. We receive local weather forecasts on marine-band VHF radio. Offshore weather forecasts come from the National Weather Service on single-side-band radio. We continue to monitor the offshore reports so we can get a feel for the weather cycles throughout the Caribbean. The reports are broadcast on different frequencies at different times of the day, and listening to them requires practice. The voice is computer-synthesized, sounds a little flat, but can be heard even when there is a lot of noise. The report is concise but lengthy, and takes a lot of practice to note and interpret. Second in command--with a gear box of their own--are the equipment suppliers. You'd get a few questioning looks going into a local hardware store asking for a wind generator or red 12-volt light bulbs (for night sailing). So we are faced with dealing with a few specialized companies. Orders that we placed when we arrived here in mid-December have still not arrived. If we had to do it over again, we would have ordered the big-ticket items while we were in Halifax and had them shipped to Titusville. At worst there might have been a couple of months of dust on them when we arrived. So here we sit, the controllers of our own destiny that we are. Our daily schedule has changed a little since being in dock bondage. Up at 8:30, it's a quick breakfast and then schoolwork for Kita, office work for me. Wesley and Denise occupy their time with toys and boat chores (OK, Denise gets to sleep in a little). The afternoon is boat work and more boat work. After dinner, it's reading time for the kids and back to office work for me. And as always, a bad day on the boat is still better than a good day in suburbia. A special note to people who are going to equip their boats with a Westinghouse Series 1000 Satellite system: The antenna leaks like a faucet--not from around the sides, but inside, around the cable. Disassembling the base and applying gobs of marine silicone should work. Do it before a bookshelf and a clothes locker get drenched.