Conspiracy Theories and A Brush with the Law

Yesterday started with trouble.  After my incredible boss, Ignasi, ran for three hours to get to work (part of his training for a race through the mountains in a few weeks... what a boss), we hunkered down to identify the source of a large contaminant peak present in all of our spectra.  We tested the extraction solvents, the standard (helps us find our place in the spectra), the tubes... to no avail.  It wasn't any of those things.  I was worried that I'd messed up somehow and contaminated everything, all of our precious samples.

But no, it wasn't me.  It was the water that we'd used.  In NMR, it's common to use "heavy water", or D2O (as opposed to H2O) as the isotope of choice.  After eliminating all other possibilities, we tested the water alone, and there it was.  That pesky peak!  But had I accidentally contaminated the bottle?  No, it was a whole bad batch, just the luck of the draw.  We contacted the company and, since we're in a research institute, were able to find another lab with uncontaminated D2O.  Phew!  Now we're motoring through samples, shimming like it's our job (shimming involves adjusting the magnetic field so it's juuuuuuuust right), and getting results.

As I mentioned in my last post, I finally made it to Forn Mistral, the final bakery on the Quest of the Five Breads to Rule Them All.  I was too stuffed to devour all my goodies yesterday (although I did try a bit of the baguette.  Must try the bread the first day!) so I brought the sweets for lunch today.

Aren't the little mini croissants darling?  For reference, they're about an inch long.

While Forn Mistral's basic baguette was the worst of all the ones I've tried (including my supermarket... but I love my supermarket bread), all of the sweets were delicious.  The half-sized brioche was so satisfyingly sweet, and the mini croissants were little surprises of flavor.  I had gotten two regular, two chocolate-filled, and one each of: sopressata (the orangey one on the left), sausage (sort of hot dog-like), and cheese.  And I loved them all.  I was planning on getting Baluard croissants (foodgasm) as part of my end-of-summer food spread for the lab, but wouldn't these mini croissants be so much fun?  First world problems...

After work, I headed down to the harbor for... SAILING! Yep, I found a MeetUp group where eight people got together and went sailing for four or five hours.  Our fearless captain, Isgar, had been sailing for years and had bought a boat with his girlfriend... who then decided she didn't want to use it.  Instead, we were the lucky ones.

The Port Olimpic harbor

We all met up at Dock 7, introduced ourselves (a few people had been out with Isgar before), and got on board.  Isgar loves to teach people, so we got a little bit of a lesson, as well.  Basically, we learned as much as we could absorb in a single session; those who had been out several times before took the lead but also encouraged the newbies.

 Ready (as I'll ever be) to hoist the jib sail (the front triangular sail, which doesn't have a boom/big horizontal piece of wood at the bottom and is therefore more at the whim of the wind)

But disaster struck.  We were pulled over by the Guarda Civil (basically the harbor cops) as we pulled out of the harbor.  Isgar said he'd never even seen them there before.  Marie said they'd been watching our group since we arrived.  Isgar was taken off of the boat for questioning, along with all of the boat's documentation. One of the other cops stayed to keep watch over us and made small talk... which was actually his lead-in to full-on interrogation.  It's illegal to rent out your boat/charge for passage without being a registered company, and they were trying to catch Isgar on that charge.  True, we were paying 15 euros for the adventure, but that wouldn't even cover the gas and other costs incurred during the voyage.  It was basically a nominal fee to keep people from signing up for the trip and then dropping it last-minute.  Plus, other MeetUp boatowners had ripped sails or had their belongings accidentally dropped off the side of the boat; the small fee helped to defray those costs.  But nobody in their right mind could think that 15 euros a person for 5 hours of sailing (and, for my companions, lots of alcohol-imbibing) was a money-making enterprise.
But the law is the law.  The Guarda Civil grew ruder and ruder, trying desperately to get something out of us.  We weren't playing their games.  They eventually took all of our passports and identifying documents and disappeared into their boat.  For over an hour.  After Isgar took them through the boat and passed their inspection with flying colors (while they tried to make trouble for him at every turn), the police sat inside their boat for another hour.  It was a trying situation, because it was clear that they had nothing on us and were just stalling to make our lives difficult.  BUT! The beauty of MeetUp is that you're hanging out with a bunch of expats who have traveled and faced all kinds of hurdles in their lifetimes, so they're a pretty laid-back, merry bunch.

 Veronica (front of the above photo), who quickly became my sailing trip soulmate, even baked a carrot cake and made creamcheese frosting.  Most people chose beer instead, so I had basically the whole thing (including the tub of extra icing) to myself.

Finger-lickin' good

We had a GREAT time sitting on the dock and repeatedly failing to tie a bowline knot, which is used on the boat.

 All the while, poor Isgar was being interrogated and yelled at by the police.

Who, when they finally left him alone... again returned to their boat.  I'm not sure what exciting distractions they had in their floating command center, but our case shouldn't have taken this long.

 And then at last, we were free! Time to set sail!

 As we pulled out of the harbor, I FINALLY got to hoist the jib sail, others lifted the main sail, and we scurried and slipped around the boat with shouts of joy and laughter.  The highest winds were behind us, unfortunately; they had slipped away during our interrogation.  Still, we got enough wind to speed us across the open water through the deepening dusk.

 We talked for hours, joking and getting to know each other.  Isgar had designed airports for years before quitting to write children's books.  He then realized that he actually needed to earn money and works for a Dutch solar panel company while living in Barcelona (where he wants to stay).  Veronica (from Nevada) worked as a biologist for years, researching RNA, before switching to science policy. While it's less invigorating, the pay and hours are better, both important considerations for a single mom.  She's lived in Barcelona for the past nine years.  Marie (from Germany) had moved to Madrid for 4 months to learn Spanish; that was 14 years ago, and she's lived in the country ever since.  She just moved to Barcelona last September, but continues to work for the German embassy in Spain.  Christian (also German)... well, I don't remember what he does, but he was a sweetheart.  Karen (from London, England) and Federico (Italy) came together as the token couple in the group and have lived together in Barcelona for years.  Karen's an English teacher; I don't remember what Federico does. And that was our crew!  They were a fascinating bunch, and the conversation swelled and rolled with the waves.


Among our many conversation topics was one recurring one: the earlier incident with the Guarda Civil.  Apparently (this is where the conspiracy theories come in), there's a man who owns about 20 boats in the harbor and rents out spaces to tourists for about 60 euros for an hour or two per person.  He joined the MeetUp group and had checked it three times this afternoon alone (source: super-sleuth Veronica).  He had been upset that there were other ways for people to go out on the water without paying his enormous fees, and had been complaining about it, despite the HUGE numbers of tourists already paying for his services.  We're pretty sure he complained to the harbor police, who are his buddies, and had them waiting for us.  After all, they didn't stop a single other boat, they'd been watching us since we arrived on the dock, and they left for the day as soon as they finished two hours "checking our documentation".  Nothing's proven, but it has still created a need for change.  Igbar's not sure he can ever take people out again, as the harbor police said they'd be watching for him and wouldn't believe him even if he changed the website to say that the ride was free.  So, this may well be the last voyage of the Samba and its joyous, inexperienced expat crew.

The last wisps of the sunset brought out the beautiful Barcelona nighttime skyline, as well as the dramatic clouds.

 In addition to helping with the sails, we each got a turn to steer the boat.  We got to jibe and tack, loop rope around winches, and constantly switch sides of the boat.  During the straight-ahead bits, Veronica and I hung out over the water and let the waves splash our legs, then swiveled around so our heads were upside down.  From that viewpoint, the waves were at the top and the seemingly motionless skyline was at the bottom.  It was a vertigo-inducing (if you're buzzed like Veronica was), surreal experience that can only be described as living an Inception-esque Dali painting.

The nighttime sky

Other fun facts:

1. 70% of men who fall off of boats do so while peeing (source: Isgar).  Luckily, our one bladder-emptier was part of the 30%.
2. Boats have a green light on the right side and a red/white light on the left so that passing boats can see their relative orientations to each other.  It also helps when going back into the harbor, which has a green light on the right of the entrance and a red light on the left so that your lights match up as you pull back in for the night.  At least, it does in all logical countries.  The US, on the other hand, continues to defy logic (as it does with measurements) and has the harbor entrance lights in the opposite positions.

Spotted: Isgar's childrens books.

They're a series called Wally Meets (I think there are five of them) and can be found at this website (wallymeets.com).  They follow a little baby whale on his big adventures, which include the everyday challenges of four year olds as well as unique opportunities to meet Mozart and Picasso.

My favorite part has to be the description of his trip to see Picasso:
Wally and his mama swim to Picasso's paint store to buy new paint for Wally. Wally asks Picasso to make a painting of him. when Wally sees the drawing he is shocked, "THAT DOESN'T LOOK LIKE ME AT ALL". Wally meets Picasso is an uplifting story for children between 2 and 6 years old and deals with imagination, perception and dreaming.