Boat Cat Blog

My name is Tippy. I am a six-year-old Black cat. I was born on a farm in South Dakota, orphaned at a young age and left to fend for myself through a harsh prairie winter. The following summer I was adopted by distant relatives and taken to Oklahoma where I had a very comfortable life in a warm spacious home with Blazey, my almost twenty-year-old step-sister and our two doting people. Once a week, we were loaded into a car, driven to a Lake that was over two hours away, and carried howling down the dock to a sailboat. The process was repeated in reverse two days later. It wasn’t fun for us, but we could tolerate in exchange for good food, toys, love and a warm place to sleep. One day, we kidnapped and taken to Maryland to live at a Marina. In the summer of 2007, Blazey and I were shanghaied aboard S/V “Solitaire”. This is my story.

We should have known something was up, but missed so many signs. Clue number 1 – The woman hauled several cases of canned cat food, bag after bag of dry food, and a whole bunch of treats aboard our boat. Clue number 2 – Instead of one small bag of liter, all of a sudden we had three big tubs (over 70 pounds of it). Clue number 3 - We saw an application addressed to the Department of Agriculture in Nassau, Bahamas for two Pet Import Permits, but it just didn’t register that they were for us. So it was that our departure from Herrington Harbor on that beautiful summer day caught us totally by surprise.

We motored for several days. I was so angry that I wouldn’t even look outside. The sound of the engine and the generator, and the smell of diesel are enough to make anyone gag, but it was about to get worse. I could tell from the smell of the air that we’d left the brackish water of the Chesapeake and Delaware Bays behind us. I could also tell by the way the boat started to pitch around. Everything clanged and clattered and fell down around me – I got seasick then ran into the aft cabin and crawled under a pillow. It took a lot of coaxing to get me to come out again.

A couple days later, I finally got my nerve up to look outside. The land was far away, we must have been 20 miles offshore. A pod of dolphins came by and said hello. The next week passed in a blur – we’d anchor for a couple days then we’d be out in the ocean again. The waves splashed over the top of our boat and I got knocked around from side to side. Serves the people right that I got sick all up and down the hallway.

One morning I looked outside and saw the tallest buildings and biggest ships in the world – all around us. It was too scary so I ran back downstairs again and stayed for the rest of the day. Our traveling days are starting to get routine for us. We wake up our people just after sunrise by climbing on top of them and staring in their faces. We know they are just pretending to sleep. We barely have time to eat a few bites before the engine starts up again and the boat starts rocking. Water sloshes over into my dry food and makes it a soggy mess. After hours and hours, we stop moving, put an anchor out, and shut down the engine. That’s our signal to beg for fresh food and treats.

As July turned into August, we traveled through Long Island Sound and up into New England. It’s a heat wave and they keep us locked up down below with all the hatches closed while we travel. When we set out for Block Island, it was the rockiest ride yet with pitching and rocking for over six hours. Blazey and I were miserably seasick. I wedged myself between the mattress and the hull in the aft berth; and Blazey hid under the pillows. After we finally arrived in port, I was called the people pretty vile names in cat talk – they deserved it.

After being trapped on Block Island for nearly a week, the weather got better and we joined an exodus of other boats leaving. For most of our five hour sail, we had “rocking horse swells” – with the bow rising six or more feet in the air and then gently falling down the next wave. These are much easier to take than the swells that hit you broad side, but I still lost my breakfast and gave the people reproachful looks all morning from my under chair hiding spot.

One morning, I heard the woman say we’d been traveling for one month and that it seemed more like a week. If you ask me, it seems more like a hundred years. I do enjoy going through the canals or at least hugging the coastline. I still remember the first time we headed out in really deep water (300 feet). It made me so nervous that I stayed up in the cockpit all day long wanting to be held. I perched on the captains shoulder like a parrot for several hours. At least I seem to be over my sea sickness.

We finally made it to Maine. It’s pretty up here, but a little chilly. It’s fun sitting in the cockpit watching the boat zigzag around lobster pots. I finally figured out how to keep somewhat comfortable when we are underway, I make someone hold me. Coming out of Maine we had about five hours of chop. It’s hard to explain chop unless you’ve been there. You cannot walk two steps without banging into something. Back and forth – up and down – left and right. The night we stayed in Gloucester, the people watched the “Perfect Storm” – not a great confidence builder. I had nightmares for days. We had a couple of hitchhikers: a little bird perched on our davits and a butterfly rode along in the cockpit – I tried to sneak up on the bird, but she was too fast for me.. The highlight of this passage was the whales that came by to say hello. We saw over a dozen today – both fin and humpback.

You can wake up to the most beautiful day and still end up with interesting traveling weather. As we headed out from New Bedford, the ocean seemed to lift Solitaire ten feet into the air and then slowly let her back down. Goodbye breakfast. With shorter daylight hours and a 14-hour trip ahead, you either leave in the dark or arrive in the dark; hopefully not both. When we took off from New York, heading south, we were still asleep. I finally woke up when the swells started coming in from Gabrielle and made the people take turns holding me for the next 10 hours.

We had a little bit of everything during our twelve hours on the water today – all kinds of weather and all kinds of other boats. Some strange men in a boat that said “Coast Guard” on it pulled up alongside us requesting permission to board. It woke both of us up but that was okay. When I came into the Cockpit, I immediately smelled home. I went to the rail and leaned way over, sniffing and sniffing. We were back on the Chesapeake. The next day we sailed the entire way from Elk River to Herring Bay – a distance of over 60 miles. It was so good to pull into our slip again. Hopefully we will never leave again.

January 13, 2007 - Happy New Year! It's been quite some time since my people left me alone with the computer long enough so I could catch up a bit. We had a nice holiday here on our sailboat. There was a fun little tree with colored lights and ornaments to bat around when the people weren't looking. I got to nose around the packages and try to untie the bows. There are a few little claw marks in the wrappings that no one even noticed. How else was I supposed to sniff around to see what was inside each package? The people didn't just decorate inside the boat - they strung lights all the way up to the top of the mast and then hoisted a huge star that you could see from all over Deale (or so I

hear, I don't get out and around town much myself). Inside the cockpit of our boat, we had two large figures that moved and made noises - both were dressed in red fuzzy clothes. I played claw with them whenever I could, but they weren't much fun. As usual, there was a lot of great food on the boat - the woman was baking something all the time and I got to have samples. We had a whole prime rib one night and a turkey the next. When we don't have company, I get to sit at the table and make loud "I want food" noises until they give me pieces of what they are eating. On Christmas morning, we had stockings filled with treats - just for us. I got toys, treats, catnip and something really tasty called "catviar" - prrrr. The only thing I hate about this time of year are the pictures of us wearing stupid outfits - My sister had to wear a little red and white furry hat and I had something put around my neck that had bells on it. We looked like idiots - but then so did our people. A few days later, they forced us to wear some other little hats so they could take our pictures again. My sister, Blazey, got her "deer in the headlight look" and just went along with it. I protested and refused to smile at the camera. I swear, one of these days I am going to let those people have it.

May 27, 2006 - Let me talk to you about people who abandon their pets - Did I mention to you that my people went off and left me earlier this month? Okay, they did have friends come by to feed me (and the other cat) and make sure our litter was clean - but still, it is really hard to be left alone for more than a day - you just feel like they are never coming back. I talked my cat-sitters into letting me sit outside in the cockpit enclosure for a while each day - but that came to an abrupt end when I went wandering around the marina and they couldn't find me. For the rest of the time, we were locked in the boat. We are cat-sitting this weekend for Percy (a handsome Siamese who lives with his people on another boat in our Marina). While I can't speak for Percy - I can probably imagine what his life has been like this weekend. First his people give him lots of special attention. Then he sees the bags come out of storage and he starts getting excited because the bags mean they are going somewhere fun. "Oh boy - oh boy - what neat place are my people are taking me to?", he thinks. He is a little stunned just a short time later when they go out the companionway and close the hatch right in his face. He is being abandoned.

For the next couple hours, he listens for footsteps on the dock and is convinced that his people are coming back home. In fact, he takes a little nap - knowing that when he wakes up they will be back. Sure enough, he feels someone step on to the boat - and it is - NOT his people. It is some lady and man that he's seen before. After a half-hearted attempt to escape, he decides to follow the couple around and see what they are up to. They are opening a can of fancy feast (salmon - his favorite), and they are putting a scoop of dry food in the other dish, and filling up his water - everything is just the way he likes it. He is purring, eating, and rubbing up against the people all at once. He is happy cat!!! It gets even better - the man and lady go into the treat cupboard and give him his favorite greenies. He doesn't think it is possible to purr any louder. Then they scratch him in the all the right places - talk to him- wrestle a little - and then they're gone. And he is home alone again - abandoned.

During the night he gets up a couple times when he hears footsteps and he presses his little face against the companionway hatch - but no one comes. The fancy feast was gone hours ago - so he finishes the last bits of the hard food and then, both dishes are empty. This is not good and He is no longer happy cat. In fact, he has become mad cat. He turns the empty dishes over. He yanks his little eating mat off the floor and shakes it back and forth before flinging it down. He growls and swears a little in kitty talk. Then he uses the litter room and he doesn't shake his paws off afterward. He'll leave white footprints all over the boat - he'll show them. Later, he gets up again and decides to pretend like his people are home. He throws one of his toys and then runs to fetch it. He bats a little ball against the wall. He even plays hide and seek for awhile under the rug. He isn't mad anymore, he is back to feeling despair - and then he hears footsteps again, the hatch opens and the lady and man are back - food, love, treats - full belly and full dishes - He'll be okay, but it sure will be nice to see his real people again.

May 7, 2006 - Thank God - I am back safe and sound in my slip at Herrington Harbour North. I was having a nice mid-day nap last Friday and awoke to some pretty obnoxious sounds and vibrations - we were heading out to sea. For awhile, it was fun - sticking my face out into the breeze, climbing up Jim's chest to get some hugs, scratching on the enclosure windows - neat stuff. I even helped out for awhile and then it got boring (plus they yelled at me when I tried to leave the cockpit) so I took a nap. I had a very rude awakening when a power boat crossed in front of us leaving some high waves - it was chaos down below - glasses breaking, books tumbling from shelves, and two big scuba tanks rolling down a hallway just when my stepsister Blazey paused to eat. She got trapped between the two tanks and the lady came running down the steps - yelling and crying - from what I was able to figure out Blazey got a concussion. She acted pretty weird for awhile and everyone held and fussed over her. She tried to cuddle up with me and I hissed and showed my claws. What a whiner. Once the noise and vibrations stopped, everything was okay again. We had a fun weekend - smelling all sorts of new scents and seeing a lot of new stuff - including a swan that came begging for food yesterday morning.

April 7, 2006 - A somewhat out-of-sorts Tippy here. It's Friday night - I was sitting on the bimini top, minding my own business - enjoying the warm muggy spring evening - sniffing the breeze, listening to sounds that my people can't hear and watching an approaching Thunderstorm. Next thing I know, Wild Lucy, a blue healer mix from a couple boats down, and her people, Mike and Kirsty, show up. If it were up to me, I'd have turned them away, but my folks had to offer them water or something in a tall glass and ask them to stick around. For a while I was having fun - taunting Lucy a bit from aloft. Then along comes, Duke, who is normally a pretty reasonable dingo-mix. And to make matters worse, Betsy, a golden retriever, shows up with her skipper, Greg. Suddenly, it wasn't all that fun anymore and I got a little puffed up and my folks put me down below - Lucy's Mom actually said, "The cat started it." - of all the nerve! I plan on letting my people know just how displeased I was - I have my ways you know.

Here is a recap of a typical day in the life of a boat cat (me) - hunger pangs wake me up sometime before sunrise. I've heard Mom yelling something about "4 a.m." and "damned cat" so I try to be patient. But just in case, someone wants to get up, I walk back and forth on pillows, across backs, chests, legs, arms, and, if necessary, faces. I try cuddling, purring and looking cute. If they still aren't up - then I go use the cat box - create an aroma - and then scratch, dig, scratch, dig, scratch, dig - until someone yells "enough all ready". The next strategy is to step on the side of the litter box, tip it way up and then let it fall back to the ground - I do this several times and usually will get some response - particularly since I've actually made good on the threat and tipped it all the way over before. If the people still aren't out of bed, my last strategy is to start scratching at the teak - They yell a little, but nine times out of ten, one or the other will get up and refill my food dish and my water. Once I have them both up and have eaten my fill, then I sneak into the bed and go back to sleep for the rest of the day - venturing out periodically for food, toilet break, and playing. I have two favorite games - "Claw" and "Get you".

The lady leaves the boat almost every morning right after she feeds me. The man stays home all day so he can feed, cuddle and entertain me when I'm not sleeping. At dinner time, I sit at the table between the two people and they let me sample what they are eating. I prefer premium cuts of medium rare steak. After supper, I spend quite a bit of time checking out the Marina from my perch on the bimini, my sunning spot on the foredeck, or my dry, comfortable seat in the cockpit. When it's time for bed, I go from one person to the other trying to get someone to follow me back to the berth. I'll usually wrestle a bit with the lady - like I used to with my brothers and sisters - and then fall asleep draped across the man's feet.

March 2006 - Hello, my name is Tippy. I am a black girl of indeterminate parentage - who is being held captive on a sailboat. I loved my mother but she has passed on. I don't want to talk about it, but, it does involve murder and gun shots. I grew up on a farm in South Dakota when I spotted Nancy and ran across the lawn and jumped up on her lap. It was a nice lap and felt good. My owner said that I could go with her so I fled with her hoping my fate would not be like my mothers. I don't know who my father was. They tell me not to worry about that. I know that I am not African but I am black and beautiful. What are my earliest memories,, I don't remember about what happened to my brothers and sisters. One by one they just disappeared. Soon it was just my mother and me. Then she was gone. I was the only one of the family left. The only food I could get readily was the asparagus from the garden. My water came from rain or the tomatoes that grew near by. I still like them and when Nancy sets them on the counter I will have a bite or two. They do taste good. Its hard to talk about this. I'll say more later.