Great Dane on Board Episode 6
OK, I admit it. I have been doing a bit of promotion for my new book, Christmas Inc. here. What can I say, I'm pretty excited. It is currently Amazon.com's #1 bestseller on the political humor list. And you can download it for free for three more days.
So, here's the tie in. Santa's faithful dog companion, Jingle Bells, is modeled on Odin. If you read the book, you'll see the similarities in them.
How's that for sneaking in the back door?
So, here's the tie in. Santa's faithful dog companion, Jingle Bells, is modeled on Odin. If you read the book, you'll see the similarities in them.
How's that for sneaking in the back door?
Daily Life With Odin
Wanna go for a bike ride?
The most frequently asked question we get is “How can you live on a boat with such a big dog” First of all, you have to understand that the Victory is a big boat. She is 56-feet long.
One time when we were going through the locks in Seattle, the skipper of the 41-foot ketch rafted up to us said “You have more deck space than an aircraft carrier.” That might be a slight exaggeration, but only slightly. We have had twenty-five people aboard without crawling over each other.
Odin lives on the boat with us, but he doesn’t sail with us in the open ocean, yet . . .
Originally, I never planned to have Odin live with us. Dawn convinced me that she would find a place for him to stay in La Paz. The camel had its nose in the tent.
Then Odin came to live on the boat with us at the dock. The camel now had its head in the tent.
Our plan for this winter is to make short trips into the Sea of Cortez. We fully expect that Odin will be with us. Dawn insists that we can get Odin to jump down from the boat into the dinghy and back again in order to get him ashore to do his business.
This may be one of those “nevers” that I shouldn’t have said “never” to. I think this is the part where the camel is fully in the tent and I’m sleeping outside.
You’ll have to stay tuned to future blogs to see how this works out.
One time when we were going through the locks in Seattle, the skipper of the 41-foot ketch rafted up to us said “You have more deck space than an aircraft carrier.” That might be a slight exaggeration, but only slightly. We have had twenty-five people aboard without crawling over each other.
Odin lives on the boat with us, but he doesn’t sail with us in the open ocean, yet . . .
Originally, I never planned to have Odin live with us. Dawn convinced me that she would find a place for him to stay in La Paz. The camel had its nose in the tent.
Then Odin came to live on the boat with us at the dock. The camel now had its head in the tent.
Our plan for this winter is to make short trips into the Sea of Cortez. We fully expect that Odin will be with us. Dawn insists that we can get Odin to jump down from the boat into the dinghy and back again in order to get him ashore to do his business.
This may be one of those “nevers” that I shouldn’t have said “never” to. I think this is the part where the camel is fully in the tent and I’m sleeping outside.
You’ll have to stay tuned to future blogs to see how this works out.
He's got his whole body in the tent.
The Victory is a unique boat. She is a traditional design with a clipper bow, raked masts and an hour-glass transom. Everyone thinks she looks like a pirate ship. I think she looks much more like a privateer from the War of 1812. With her wooden masts flying the skull and cross bones, a long rakish bow sprit and loads of teak trim, people see her tied up at the dock and come over to take a look.
When they get here they are greeted by an enormous dog peering down at them. Somehow, it only seems appropriate the when people come aboard they are met by this regal dog that conjures up images of Admiral Nelson and his Royal Navy.
Some of them are startled, some even afraid, but Odin never barks at them. He’s just curious to see who’s coming to visit. This usually ends up with a long conversation about dogs and boats and they depart new friends.
He does like to sit and watch the comings and goings. He is endlessly interested in life on the docks. He’s made many friends. Jesus, a crewman on a nearby mega-yacht used to come over and visit him. They developed such a good friendship that Jesus would come by and ask to take Odin on his evening walk. Then Jesus’ boat left the marina for Puerto Vallarta.
Odin doesn’t leave the boat without our approval. We don’t bother closing the lifelines most of the time. When we leave him on the boat, we aren’t afraid to leave boat unlocked. Who their right mind would try to steal something off of a boat guarded by a Great Dane?
Dawn has a plaque that says “Great Dane Security Service. You might get in, but you won’t get out.”
When we first arrived in La Paz, Odin decided to go exploring while we were below decks. Linda on the Sir Lancelot knocked on our hull. She found Odin up by the gate trying to get out. A couple of days ago, Odin needed to go bathroom so he hopped down onto the dock. Our neighbor said “he’s a smart dog. Give him a dock key.” I can just see Dawn making a lanyard to go around his neck with a dock key on it.
The summers are hot here in La Paz, much hotter than I expected. Dawn spent her afternoons finding shady spots for Odin to lay. She hosed him down several times a day to cool him off. I should get such service.
We finally took an apartment on shore for the summer to have air conditioning.
Odin doesn’t come below decks, there is a vertical ladder about six feet tall that you have to climb down to get below. Odin doesn’t do ladders.
The docks are made of concrete (Yes, concrete floats. The Victory is made out of concrete.). They get horribly hot in the mid-day sun. Odin, like all the dogs, prances down the dock, trying to save his feet until he can get onto cool soil.
Surprisingly, Odin is very agile for a dog his size. He can turn around in tight places that you would never expect him to be able to get in.
When they get here they are greeted by an enormous dog peering down at them. Somehow, it only seems appropriate the when people come aboard they are met by this regal dog that conjures up images of Admiral Nelson and his Royal Navy.
Some of them are startled, some even afraid, but Odin never barks at them. He’s just curious to see who’s coming to visit. This usually ends up with a long conversation about dogs and boats and they depart new friends.
He does like to sit and watch the comings and goings. He is endlessly interested in life on the docks. He’s made many friends. Jesus, a crewman on a nearby mega-yacht used to come over and visit him. They developed such a good friendship that Jesus would come by and ask to take Odin on his evening walk. Then Jesus’ boat left the marina for Puerto Vallarta.
Odin doesn’t leave the boat without our approval. We don’t bother closing the lifelines most of the time. When we leave him on the boat, we aren’t afraid to leave boat unlocked. Who their right mind would try to steal something off of a boat guarded by a Great Dane?
Dawn has a plaque that says “Great Dane Security Service. You might get in, but you won’t get out.”
When we first arrived in La Paz, Odin decided to go exploring while we were below decks. Linda on the Sir Lancelot knocked on our hull. She found Odin up by the gate trying to get out. A couple of days ago, Odin needed to go bathroom so he hopped down onto the dock. Our neighbor said “he’s a smart dog. Give him a dock key.” I can just see Dawn making a lanyard to go around his neck with a dock key on it.
The summers are hot here in La Paz, much hotter than I expected. Dawn spent her afternoons finding shady spots for Odin to lay. She hosed him down several times a day to cool him off. I should get such service.
We finally took an apartment on shore for the summer to have air conditioning.
Odin doesn’t come below decks, there is a vertical ladder about six feet tall that you have to climb down to get below. Odin doesn’t do ladders.
The docks are made of concrete (Yes, concrete floats. The Victory is made out of concrete.). They get horribly hot in the mid-day sun. Odin, like all the dogs, prances down the dock, trying to save his feet until he can get onto cool soil.
Surprisingly, Odin is very agile for a dog his size. He can turn around in tight places that you would never expect him to be able to get in.
We go for a dinghy ride.
We decided to take Odin across the bay to the large sand spit called “El Mogote” for his afternoon walk. How does one cross the bay and land on a sand spit with a large dog? One takes the dinghy.
We have a twelve foot Caribe RIB (Rigid Inflatable Boat) for a dinghy with a twenty-five horse power Mariner outboard. The boat has a rigid fiberglass hull with air compartments for floatation. It’s the kind of boat you see on TV when Greenpeace tries to keep the Japanese from whaling.
I brought the boat alongside the dock and tied her fore and aft so she wouldn’t move. Then I got out to let Dawn work her magic.
She gave a few commands, and sure enough, Odin climbed down into the dinghy. How does she do that? I swear that she speaks dog.
We motored across the bay, with Dawn hanging onto Odin so he didn’t fall overboard, then ran up on the sand at El Mogote. After a fun afternoon of playing on the beach, it was time to go home.
I held the dinghy in shallow water for Dawn to get Odin aboard. Then she would climb on and I would walk the dinghy out to deeper water so we could drop the outboard and be on our way.
Odin didn’t buy into my plan. Dawn spoke to him in dog and he jumped up into the dinghy, but he didn’t like it. Before Dawn could climb aboard to soothe him, he jumped out on the other side.
After we chased him down, we tried again. This time, when he got into the dinghy, I grabbed his collar and held him until Dawn was in the boat.
As we motored back into the marina, everyone lined the docks to watch us come in with an enormous dog in our boat.
We have a twelve foot Caribe RIB (Rigid Inflatable Boat) for a dinghy with a twenty-five horse power Mariner outboard. The boat has a rigid fiberglass hull with air compartments for floatation. It’s the kind of boat you see on TV when Greenpeace tries to keep the Japanese from whaling.
I brought the boat alongside the dock and tied her fore and aft so she wouldn’t move. Then I got out to let Dawn work her magic.
She gave a few commands, and sure enough, Odin climbed down into the dinghy. How does she do that? I swear that she speaks dog.
We motored across the bay, with Dawn hanging onto Odin so he didn’t fall overboard, then ran up on the sand at El Mogote. After a fun afternoon of playing on the beach, it was time to go home.
I held the dinghy in shallow water for Dawn to get Odin aboard. Then she would climb on and I would walk the dinghy out to deeper water so we could drop the outboard and be on our way.
Odin didn’t buy into my plan. Dawn spoke to him in dog and he jumped up into the dinghy, but he didn’t like it. Before Dawn could climb aboard to soothe him, he jumped out on the other side.
After we chased him down, we tried again. This time, when he got into the dinghy, I grabbed his collar and held him until Dawn was in the boat.
As we motored back into the marina, everyone lined the docks to watch us come in with an enormous dog in our boat.
Picnicking on the Magote
Odin will not go down the stairs. During Tropical Storm Octave, he refused to come down the companion way to get out of the downpour.
Dawn took all the cushions on the boat and made a ramp for him to walk down to the forward cabin. She got behind him and nudged him to go down. I was in the cabin ready to assist in the climb down. He really, really wanted to come below.
Usually the cabin is the forbidden land. All sorts of good stuff happens there. He can smell the food being prepared. We lounge in the aft cabin and watch TV and eat popcorn. We sleep down there, he always wants to sleep next to us.
But I saw the fear in his eyes. There was no way he was going to jump onto that pile of cushions his Mom had made. Was she nuts, thinking that he would trust those pillows?
When he makes up his mind, he’s like a mule. He drops his bottom and no amount of pushing, shoving or coaxing could get him to try. You don't pick up a one hundred and seventy pound dog and carry him down the stairs.
“OK, sleep in the rain then,” Dawn finally said in frustration.
Fortunately, the worst of the storm had already passed. Dawn rigged up a tent for him in the cockpit to keep him dry, then lay down with him to calm him down and slept outside with him.
She’s crazy, I thought as I went to bed.
Odin is famous in La Paz. No one knows our names, but everyone knows “Odeen.” He is more photographed that Heidi Klum. Odin says "I wouldn't get out of bed for less than $500 an hour."
When we walk down the Malecon with him, people stop us every few feet to ask questions, take his picture and hug him. It’s like walking down the street with Justin Bieber. People cry out “Scooby Doo” and come running to see Odin.
The women all want to wrap their arms around his neck. The men either love him or are afraid of him.
There is a large x-pat boating community in La Paz. When we meet new people and tell them that we’re on the Victory, they say “Oh, you’re the boat with the big dog.”
We go into restaurants (yes, they allow dogs in restaurants here) and the server comes running with a bowl of water and some kind of treat for Odin, then she asks, “What can I get for you?”
Dawn is one of the few blondes in town, thus is easily recognizable. When Dawn goes anywhere without Odin, people ask, “Where’s Odeen?”
Walking with Odin has helped Dawn with her Spanish. After a few walks with me she has learned answers to common questions.
“Is he friendly?” “Ello es muy amable.” (He’s very friendly)
“How old is he?” “Tiene nuevo años.” (He’s 9 years old.)
“What kind of dog is he?” “Ello es un Gran Danis.” (He’s a Great Dane.)
“Does he bite.” “No muerde.”(He doesn’t bite.)
She answers questions about the dog so easily, that they assume she is fluent. But if she has to ask where the bank is, she couldn’t do it.
Dawn took all the cushions on the boat and made a ramp for him to walk down to the forward cabin. She got behind him and nudged him to go down. I was in the cabin ready to assist in the climb down. He really, really wanted to come below.
Usually the cabin is the forbidden land. All sorts of good stuff happens there. He can smell the food being prepared. We lounge in the aft cabin and watch TV and eat popcorn. We sleep down there, he always wants to sleep next to us.
But I saw the fear in his eyes. There was no way he was going to jump onto that pile of cushions his Mom had made. Was she nuts, thinking that he would trust those pillows?
When he makes up his mind, he’s like a mule. He drops his bottom and no amount of pushing, shoving or coaxing could get him to try. You don't pick up a one hundred and seventy pound dog and carry him down the stairs.
“OK, sleep in the rain then,” Dawn finally said in frustration.
Fortunately, the worst of the storm had already passed. Dawn rigged up a tent for him in the cockpit to keep him dry, then lay down with him to calm him down and slept outside with him.
She’s crazy, I thought as I went to bed.
Odin is famous in La Paz. No one knows our names, but everyone knows “Odeen.” He is more photographed that Heidi Klum. Odin says "I wouldn't get out of bed for less than $500 an hour."
When we walk down the Malecon with him, people stop us every few feet to ask questions, take his picture and hug him. It’s like walking down the street with Justin Bieber. People cry out “Scooby Doo” and come running to see Odin.
The women all want to wrap their arms around his neck. The men either love him or are afraid of him.
There is a large x-pat boating community in La Paz. When we meet new people and tell them that we’re on the Victory, they say “Oh, you’re the boat with the big dog.”
We go into restaurants (yes, they allow dogs in restaurants here) and the server comes running with a bowl of water and some kind of treat for Odin, then she asks, “What can I get for you?”
Dawn is one of the few blondes in town, thus is easily recognizable. When Dawn goes anywhere without Odin, people ask, “Where’s Odeen?”
Walking with Odin has helped Dawn with her Spanish. After a few walks with me she has learned answers to common questions.
“Is he friendly?” “Ello es muy amable.” (He’s very friendly)
“How old is he?” “Tiene nuevo años.” (He’s 9 years old.)
“What kind of dog is he?” “Ello es un Gran Danis.” (He’s a Great Dane.)
“Does he bite.” “No muerde.”(He doesn’t bite.)
She answers questions about the dog so easily, that they assume she is fluent. But if she has to ask where the bank is, she couldn’t do it.
Odin works the Malecon.
Dawn likes to take Odin on bike rides. He is trained to stay on her left and close to the bike. She weaves in and out of traffic on the Malecon, around palm trees, avoiding obstacles, and Odin is always right there with her.
Odin’s favorite game is coconut football.
The rules, as set down by the International Coconut Football Foundation (ICFF), are thus: The playing field is the dirt parking lot at Marina Palmira. Out of bounds is defined by grass tall enough to hide a giant dog.
Dawn finds the coconut (they’re all over the place down here) and comes set. Odin is prancing in the back field like a wide receiver shifting before the play. Then the snap, Dawn tosses the coconut as far downfield as she can. Odin, the wide receiver, takes off in pursuit. He grabs the ball and comes roaring back at Dawn like a kickoff return. She lunges for him, he eludes her. She chases him around the field until he gets tired and goes out of bounds with the ball.
He hides in the tall grass behind the parked boats and shreds the coconut with his teeth. Finally, Dawn sneaks up on him, braving the biting bugs in the grass, and takes the football. The game starts all over again. Lather, rinse, repeat.
We are currently in negotiations with ESPN to give world-wide coverage to coconut football.
I’ve even benefitted from my relationship for Odin. He is the model for the character Jingle Bells in my new book Christmas Inc. (Wasn't that sneaky, the way I was able to mention the book?) Jingle Bells is Santa’s best friend and faithful companion. He even saves Santa’s life when his sleigh crashes, but I’m giving too much away.
So yes, with a lot of patience and a little imagination, it is possible to live on a boat with a Great Dane.
What do we expect the future to look like? You’ll just have to keep reading my blog to find out.
Odin’s favorite game is coconut football.
The rules, as set down by the International Coconut Football Foundation (ICFF), are thus: The playing field is the dirt parking lot at Marina Palmira. Out of bounds is defined by grass tall enough to hide a giant dog.
Dawn finds the coconut (they’re all over the place down here) and comes set. Odin is prancing in the back field like a wide receiver shifting before the play. Then the snap, Dawn tosses the coconut as far downfield as she can. Odin, the wide receiver, takes off in pursuit. He grabs the ball and comes roaring back at Dawn like a kickoff return. She lunges for him, he eludes her. She chases him around the field until he gets tired and goes out of bounds with the ball.
He hides in the tall grass behind the parked boats and shreds the coconut with his teeth. Finally, Dawn sneaks up on him, braving the biting bugs in the grass, and takes the football. The game starts all over again. Lather, rinse, repeat.
We are currently in negotiations with ESPN to give world-wide coverage to coconut football.
I’ve even benefitted from my relationship for Odin. He is the model for the character Jingle Bells in my new book Christmas Inc. (Wasn't that sneaky, the way I was able to mention the book?) Jingle Bells is Santa’s best friend and faithful companion. He even saves Santa’s life when his sleigh crashes, but I’m giving too much away.
So yes, with a lot of patience and a little imagination, it is possible to live on a boat with a Great Dane.
What do we expect the future to look like? You’ll just have to keep reading my blog to find out.
Odin stands guard, ready for his next adventure.