Yankee 30 "Tootsie"
(formerly Scooter Too)

Don't know who the current owner of Tootsie is.  Tootsie was owned by Carl Seipel, who circumnavigated on a 40 ft. Alden cutter, back in the 1970's with Hans Bernwall, owner of Scanmar International, manufacturer of the Monitor Windvane.  Last we heard Carl had installed a Monitor on the transom of Tootsie and sailed down the coast of California and across the pond to Tahiti, where Tootsie was sold.   Below is Carl's first-hand report and some nice photos of the Monitor installation too:

August 8, 2006

Yes, what you heard is true. Left from San Francisco February 23.  Sailed to La Paz via Sta Barbara, San Diego and covered from northerly gale behind Frailes in the Sea of Cortez for a few days before arriving La Paz.  Cruised with wife for three weeks there.  Departed Cabo San Lucas alone April 6 for the Marquesas.  Arrived 21 days and 7 hours later to Nuku Hiva (2,728 miles).  Lousy weather mostly with near calm day after day and 2.5 days of full gale around 12 degrees North.
The following snippet appeared in the June, 2006 issue of Latitude 38:  

"Bob van Blaricom has done a lot of sailing in his 75 years, but on his latest trip, he saw a few things he'd never seen before:

"When my friend Carl Seipel - a circumnavigator who had crewed aboard our boat Misty on two cruises to the Northwest and Alaska - decided to sail his Yankee 30 Tootsie to New Zealand, I went along for the first leg to La Paz. We had a very strange experience the first night when we sailed between Pigeon Point and Point Sur. I was on watch when I heard a very low, steady tone like that of a diaphone. It was loud enough for Carl to hear it in his bunk and to ask me what was going on. I didn't know. But I did observe three evenly-spaced looms of light on the horizon. They were far enough away so that I couldn't see the source of the light, meaning the source was probably 10 or more miles away - which was totally inconsistent with the volume of the tone. As I was looking at the lights through the binoculars, I was amazed to see what I can only describe as 'reverse tracer shells'. Suddenly, a stream of bright orange lights would appear, then they would be sucked back into the light loom at extreme speed! This happened over and over from all three light sources for six or seven minutes. Suddenly, the sound, the light looms, and the 'reverse tracers' stopped for about 15 minutes - then reappeared farther astern with a repeat performance lasting about five minutes! I was sorry I didn't get Carl up to corroborate my story, which I admit is pretty unbelievable. I can only assume that it was either the military up to some of their ominous tricks, or a UFO. I never much believed in UFOs before, but now I'm not so sure!"

"We arrived in Ensenada about midnight a couple of nights later," van Blaricom continues, "and anchored off the old sunken Catalina Island steamer - which is now occupied by a mob of sea lions who bellow and bark all night. The next day Carl went ashore to try out the new Mexican entry facility and procedures. The whole works is housed in one new little building right on the waterfront, and there are separate windows for the Harbormaster, Customs, and Immigration. There's even a mini-bank to pay the fees. The only thing missing was a copy machine with which to make the multiple copies of everything that the officials require. That means you have to run all over town to find a copy shop that isn't closed for siesta and whose copy machine isn't broken."

"While Carl was ashore, I anchored Tootsie between a pair of ferrocement sailboats - a green cutter from Oregon and a black ketch from Washington. While waiting, I began to hear an unbelievable stream - in English - of profanity, ranting, and death-threats over the VHF. Looking around with the binoculars, I soon figured out that the source of the outrage was the guy on the Oregon boat, who was directing it toward a hippie-looking group on the Washington boat. Next I heard several pings - and realized that the Oregon guy had a rifle and was shooting at them! It was only a pellet gun, but still I didn't like being in the crossfire all that much. The next scene was even wilder, as the antagonists got into their outboard-powered inflatables and engaged in a ramming battle! The Washington boat's dinghy, with another dinghy lashed alongside, rammed the Oregon dinghy at speed, capsizing one dinghy, throwing two people into the water - including the Oregon guy - and sending his dinghy zooming round in circles with the motor at full throttle. It was total pandemonium! Miraculously, the Oregon guy managed to catch his dingy and crawl aboard, then retreat to his boat while hurling dire threats at his attackers. Shortly thereafter, the Mexican Navy showed up to board both yachts. I decided to change neighborhoods by re-anchoring near an American schooner - whose skipper informed me that the two ferro boats had been in the harbor for a whole year, and their skippers had been fighting continuously!

"After a nice sail to Cabo, we headed on up to La Paz, but were stopped by a Norther at Los Frailes. Unsure of how long it would last, I decided to hitch a ride to the airport and let Carl get on with his singlehanding. I caught a ride to the beach, then stuck out my thumb. My first ride on the dirt road was with a couple of elderly American desert rats in a jeep. My second was with a Mexican family in the back of their rattly old pickup. The third ride toward the highway was with a silent young Mexican, who might have been some sort of cop. Finally, I got a ride with another young Mexican in a van heading south toward the airport, which is where he works. He drove like a maniac, stopping twice to water the flowers at a couple of those little shrines built along the roads in memory of people who died in car accidents. When I asked why he was stopping, he explained they were memorials for his relatives! I was afraid someone might have to build one for me, but we arrived safely at the airport, and soon I was on a plane bound for home. It had been a most interesting three weeks."