Phil and Di   

by Jim Hutchinson and Di Kilbride

     Phil and Di had already been around some before they finally sailed their little sloop, Matira, into the Caribbean back in ’02.

     The Pacific was their original cruising ground, and Australia, Phil’s home ground.

     Di is Canadian.  They met on a Vancouver beach when Phil proposed a game of frisbee.  Friends who didn’t want Phil to sail out of Di’s life kept getting them together.  Di wasn’t all that interested.  Then Phil said, "Wouldn’t you rather your kids had a seven seas education than a Seven Eleven education?"  They started comparing their travels and their dreams.  Di realized that she had found her soul mate.

     Soul mates.  Watch folks, that’s how this one plays out.

     Phillip James Cook had been a dinghy sailor since age nine and a surfer soon after.  He worked, hiked and surfed South Island New Zealand.  Then he flew to London to see what that was about.  Then he flew to the US, started at Greenwich Village, crossed Canada from Montreal to Vancouver, then turned south, coastwise, California and Mexico to Guatemala, seeking out surf and “flower power concerts” and doing casual jobs.  He returned to Australia, where he answered an ad for electricians at a copper mine in Bougainville, PNG – work in the outback of New Guinea.

     Next, Asia caught his fancy, Hong Kong, Bangkok, north to Chiang Mai and the Golden Triangle, Burma (Rangoon), Calcutta ("The intensity of India"), and the Himalayas.

     But then Phil fell in love.  It was a good love affair but a sedentary lifestyle.  As we have seen, travel is in Phil’s blood.  Moreover, it was way up north in Canada – Phil didn’t like winter.  He lasted several years but was on his way back to Oz when he met Di.

     Di Kilbride was no slouch either.  She wandered Europe for half a year, then traveled in Africa from Senegal to Mali, where she spent three years teaching and working for aid programs.  She did more of Europe on her way back to Canada – where she worked in the wintery north.  Di knew how to backpack on little money, to connect with local cultures, to work at what could be found and could deal with changing situations.  She had been a traveler all of her adult life.  But never by yacht, never with the freedom (and luxury!) of traveling while you live at home with your stuff… such stuff as justifies its place aboard a small yacht.

     Di knew nothing about nautical cruising, could barely swim and had never snorkeled.  All of that changed.

     Di went with Phil to Oz, where they rented a flat overlooking Sydney Harbour.  They sought out opportunities to sail the Pacific, both together and singly, to a variety of destinations aboard an assortment of yachts.

     "Anywhere, as long as it was offshore!!" Di says,

     They bought Matira, a 28-foot sloop,in 1989.  She was already fitted out with a hard dodger (a pseudo pilot house) and wind vane steering (a 24/7 “helmsman”).

     “We left mainland Australia in early April 1990 … in no hurry as long as we could find the means to keep going."

     They sailed to a score or more of Pacific islands that you never heard of, each with its own little story of sailing, snorkeling, weather, bureaucracy, work found along the way, and/or pauses to repair and recoup.  Authentic nautical experiences included hand-copied charts, dinghy dramas, caught out in a storm and a twelve-day passage to Palau that turned into thirty.  They were living the lifestyle.

     After years of sailing Pacific and Australian waters, they cruised over the top of Australia then across the Indian Ocean to Durban, South Africa, via Rodriguez, Mauritius, and Reunion.

     They spent two years on the east side of the south of Africa and another two years on its west coast, cruising their own yacht, working, doing deliveries and racing.

    Madagascar particularly fascinated them.

     After visiting Namibia, they departed Africa.  They crossed the South Atlantic to Cabadelo near Recife, a thirty-day passage over Christmas and New Years – mid summer in the Southern Hemisphere.

     Working their way north, they put in at Fernando de Noronha Island pumping a serious leak.  And the money was low again.  So onward, directly to the Caribbean, forgoing Devil’s Island, first stop Tobago.

     Matira sailed into Charlotteville (“Sleepyville”) Tobago near the end of January 2002.

     "Thus," says Di, "began an almost twelve-year love affair with the Caribbean."

     Bananas, a notable character aboard Lady M (named for the woman he truly loved) introduced them to Carriacou and a bay full of characters.

     Phil’s dinghy sailing passion got him sailing “Chocolate Man” Mott Green’s laser, Epicurus Dave’s excellent sailing dinghy with its ingenious three-reef lug rig designed by the brooding genius, Julio and Hutch’s several sailing dinghies.

     Their first year in the Caribbean went quickly.  They visited the Tobago Cays, re-visited Tobago, then sailed to Trinidad for hurricane season.  Then they started up island looking for work.  They were a day late to hire on as "Pirates of the Caribbean" extras, where fellow characters that they knew were being paid to be characters.  Phil would have been a beautiful pirate – or any nautical salt. 

     Having missed their shot at fame and fortune – my friend Rick and I made $2,000 EC each for eleven days work and got twenty seconds of front-stage screen time – Phil and Di sailed on via Martinique and Dominica to Antigua, where Phil found electrician work aboard mega yachts.  Di did deliveries for Sunsail.

     Phil’s trade, personality, wanderlust and skill with a sextant got him work and a berth aboard the well-known Atlantide, a 122-foot yacht built in 1930.  At the Azores he transferred to the 130-foot gaff schooner Mariette, bound for the Med – fulfilling one of his sailing dreams.  The wealth and decadence of the French Riviera, however, got Phil thinking about his 28-foot sloop in the Lesser Antilles.

     Meanwhile, Di began her long relationship with Island Water World, which led to an eight-year love affair with St. Lucia, where she helped set up the store’s branch.  Phil worked at what he found – Phil was good at that.

     Their second year at St. Lucia was 2004, the year of Hurricane Ivan.  If you were here, you remember – Ivan is remembered elsewhere as well.  They saw the devastation in Grenada and heard tales of friends whose vessels had narrowly weathered the hit… or had not.

     For 2005 hurricane season, Matira sailed to Puerto La Cruz, Venezuela, via Los Testigos and Margarita, secured Matira and did an inland adventure, beginning high in the Venezuela mountains at Merida.  It was Di’s fiftieth birthday and her twin brother Blair joined them.  The expedition included five-day hikes in the Andes, up a peak of over 4500 meters (15,000 feet), a four-day 4WD outing, and some day trips.    Some of the vistas reminded them of "Lord of the Rings" scenes of South Island New Zealand, where Phil had long ago hiked and surfed.

     They would have stayed longer but, alas, work called.  Di’s brother flew back to Canada and Matira beat back to St. Lucia, a long slog to weather and against the current.

     Di met Richard and Judy, recently arrived from the Canaries aboard their classic 60-foot Lauren Giles sailboat, Pazienza.  Phil and Di sailed Matira up island and crewed aboard Pazienza for Antigua Classic Race Week plus some leisurely day sails.  "Phil was over the moon" when asked to help sail Pazienza back to the UK.  He stayed an extra two months for the Isle of Wight race, while plying his trade, electrical work for the owners.

     They did the Antigua Classic aboard Pazienza again in 2009.

     Phil’s sailing passion got him into J-24 racing at St. Lucia, mostly aboard Loose Cannon.

     "Phil amazed us with his agility and speed in those days", Di says, recalling a J-24 race in which she was watching Phil working the foredeck from the boat she was aboard, hot on the tail of Loose Cannon.  The boats were sailing over Bequia Head in a twenty-knot wind.  Bluff Bequia Head in a twenty-knot wind generates a mix of onshore and reflected waves, fields of overfalls and can have some interesting currents.  Suddenly Phil was over the side, hanging from the end of the spinnaker pole, literally walking on water.  Then he was bounced back on deck and continued his task as if that had just been one of the moves.  Di was in awe.

     During their second year at St. Lucia, Phil, with his usual flair, offered to help at Jambe de Bois, a rustic restaurant at the south-east end of Pigeon Island, near where Matira anchored.

     Barb Tipson was happy for extra help.  Phil set to work the same day.  Di pitched in on busy nights.  This became their second home at St. Lucia – helping out and chatting with customers – Phil’s specialty.  Then they covered Tuesday nights to give Barb a second night off.

     Nine years passed.  Itchy feet struck again.  Time for more, islands to the west.  In July of 2011, Matira sailed from Pigeon Island for the final time. 

     Their westing began by sailing south, first stopping at Cumberland Bay, St. Vincent to hike up La Soufriere volcano and wind down from work.

     Then down island, stopping first at Bequia, where Hutch (that’s me) was house sitting a wonderful place at the end of a steep road, atop a highest hill, amid palms and bamboo, with a wonderful garden and a remarkable house full of amazing artifacts.  But there was a sad side as well.  Ivy, the top dog, was dying of old age compounded by multiple ailments.  Ivy was a stinking mess and hid from people, even waiting until nobody was around to sneak her food.  Di somehow gained her trust, thoroughly washed her and restored her dignity – even as Ivy continued to die.

     Then down the Grenadines to farewell friends at Carriacou.

     Thence westward, downwind and down current to La Blanquilla, Los Roques and Las Aves Islands in Venezuela – avoiding Los Testigos and Margarita, wary of pirates.  Venezuela had been a delightful destination during their first visit.  Now it was dangerous.

     They stopped at Bonaire for snorkeling then sailed to Curacao, where they spent three months.

     Matira set sail for Ile La Vache, Haiti in late December, in strong wind and uncomfortable seas.

     They often chose strong winds over the risk of being becalmed in sloppy seas.  Unreliable engines, light airs, strong currents and tricky landfalls teach one to sail.  "Hutch would know all about it!" Di says – I sailed Ambia engineless for a quarter century.

     Some yachts arrived in Haiti with donated food and medical and school supplies for an elderly Canadian nun who ran an orphanage.  Phil and Di did several interesting excursions ashore helping distribute it.

     Ten days later Matira sailed for Cuba, a dream destination for its little-known qualities. At Santiago de Cuba, they were greeted by sniffer dogs and serious Officials, checked in and were given “special permission” to anchor.  The dinghy was only allowed to go to and from the dock, bags could be inspected at any time and trips beyond the marina had to be authorized.  The marina chandlery had shelves of Cuban rum, but real chandlery items had to be special ordered – reportedly a nightmare.

     Town trips were on the local school bus or in taxis, colorful cars from the 50’s, with missing parts.  One shop had internet, with a long queue – patience.  But for them, the frustrations of Santiago de Cuba were far outweighed by the good.

     "Homestays" became bases for their travels across Cuba, beginning with ten days at Baracoa on the east coast, exploring town, hikes, and swims in the river.

     A woman told of a sister in Havana with a homestay.  The marina made arrangements. 

     A fifteen-hour overnight train crossed most of the country from Southeast to Northwest.  Several train station visits to confirm tickets didn’t help their confidence.  And they heard stories of breakdowns in the middle of nowhere, bandits, stolen bags, toilets that made you want off at the next stop, noise, clatter and the painstakingly slow pace of the train.  Seasoned travelers, they went for it.  They were in the enigmatic Cuba of their dreams!

     They tied the bags to their legs at night and kept an eye for dubious individuals.  Daybreak arrived, the train rambled through open countryside at a leisurely pace and they arrived at Havana on time.

     A ’50’s vintage taxi in impeccable condition took them to their homestay.

     Havana had wonderful contrasts.  They thought it better than they’d imagined.  Old mixed with modern. Transport ranged from horse and cart to cycle rickshaws to souped-up cars of 1950’s vintage in bright and wild colors.  Mimes and stilt walkers performed on every street corner of the main strip.  There was a vibrant Chinatown.  They discovered a remarkable underground jazz club entered via a street-level phone booth, walked the oceanfront esplanade and lounged in the open courtyard of the famous Hotel Nacional de Cuba in the evening, sipping wine and listening to soft classical jazz from a pianist in the corner.  Beautifully framed black and white prints of Castro with famous people were hanging in the lobby – Castro chatting with Robert Redford was their favorite.

     They departed Havana by bus to a homestay in Viñales.  Viñales Valley was a UNESCO World Heritage Site, in part for the natural landscape, popular for rock climbing, but mainly due to the traditional farming methods.  They visited farms still ploughed by hand and having rich fertile soil from crop rotation and lack of chemicals.  The bread man delivered by horse and cart.

     Their host made fresh biscuits with strong coffee for afternoon tea one day.  They later learned that she had used all her ration tickets and some of a friend’s to get enough ingredients

     It was incredibly cheap even by basic backpacking standards.  And the quality and diversity of meals was astounding.  The generosity of their hosts was exceptional everywhere.

     They continued by bus to Trinidad and Cienfuegos, then to Bayamo where Castro and Che Guevara planned their revolution.  They hiked up to the camp headquarters in the mountains.

     They traveled Cuba by bus and homestay for nearly a month, filled with contentment at all the adventures and excursions they could afford.

     Eventually they arrived back in Santiago de Cuba.  It was time to sail south to Jamaica before hurricane season.

     Port Antonio in 2012 was a step back in time, a small, friendly safe harbor on the northeast of Jamaica, a vast contrast to the reputation of Kingston, Port Royal and the south side of the island.  They travelled the north coast by bus, visiting amazing botanical gardens.

     They were determined to sail back to Australia by November 2014.  That’s when Phil could retire.  They were keen for a fixed income after many years of sporadic, meager income and bartering to support their adventures around the world.

     Di hadn’t crossed the North Atlantic yet – Phil had.  Then Aussie cruisers Phil had done work for asked them to help sail their Amel 50 to Portugal.  They left Matira in Port Antonio and flew to Grenada.  They sailed up the islands to Antigua, crossed the North Atlantic to Portugal via the Azores, then did three weeks exploring some of Spain and Morocco – including a camel ride to a Berber camp.

     Being well into hurricane season when they returned to Matira, they sailed south to Columbia, where they did three months of interesting bus and motorcycle adventuring.  Then on to Panama via two weeks in the San Blas Islands.

     A Panama Canal transit is an unnatural act for a yacht, especially for such as Matira, small and slow – too slow.  Matira can cross oceans at her leisure, but the Canal requires a schedule.  The bureaucracy is intense, the vessel must be measured and inspected, and long lines, line handlers and extra fendering must be arranged.  Then comes scheduling and waiting.  The main event, locking through, involves co-habiting locks with commercial vessels hundreds of times Matira’s mass while huge volumes of water surge in (going up) or out (going down).  Between up and down is a long race across Gatun Lake.

     Caribbean Compass runs a Canal transit story every year or so.  Di’s story, "The Little Boat That Could", October 2013 Compass (archived, free online) is my favorite Panama Canal Transit story.

     One of their stops while crossing the vast Pacific bound for Oz was Bora Bora, where they visited Matira Beach, their vessel’s namesake. 

     Phil and Di continued to live aboard and sail Matira until Phil was diagnosed with terminal cancer (from asbestos) in 2021.  Within two weeks he had to leave Matira, to a nice little cottage in the mountains, in rainforest, that friends had offered.  He patted Matira’s bow, shed a few tears, then walked down the dock never looking back. 

     During the several months Phil had left, friends visited, and he had a living wake with live music.  He celebrated his 72nd birthday with a coffin-painting party.  On his thirty-fifth anniversary with Di, he dressed like Gandhi for a photo -- kind of a last hurrah, Phil style.

     Di was there reading when Phil breathed his last breath.

Captain Phillip James Cook, 1949 – 2021

     "Phil was one of those rare people who could go anywhere and talk to anyone, all while dealing with the world on his own terms.  An accomplished sailor, a master electrician, a constant traveler, a student of the world."  That from Dave Kaplan, an investigative journalist who met Phil while standing in line at the old Kai Tak Airport in Hong Kong.  "We struck up a conversation.  How could you not with Phil?"  They traveled in Asia together, became life-long friends, and crossed paths in far-flung parts of the world over the forty-four years since.

     Di continues aboard Matira and is taking friends for day sails to watch the whale migration.  She sent a video of five whales, one after another, surfacing and breaching beside Matira.  And she has sailing plans to visit friends.  Di sails on, as Phil would expect of her.

                          END