There are times….

This season the weather has gone crazy!

This season the weather has gone crazy!

If there is anything that can really dishearten this solitary sailor, it’s got to be awful weather…., but if it’s not the weather, it’s some essential piece of equipment breaking just when it’s most needed…., or if it’s not equipment failures it’s an incapacitating injury…., and if it’s not that, it’s falling ill…..

Never caring to do things in just half measures, while anchored in Store Bay Tobago, I’ve fallen victim to all of the above!

Medication

I’ll take just about anything at this point….

Eileen of Avoca is bucking furiously in an absurdly agitated sea while her captain lies immobile suffering both sciatica and bronchitis. I’d struggle ashore to convalesce if only my inflatable kayak were not mysteriously punctured (the plastic one is currently ashore)… It’s been this way for several weeks and if there isn’t a sign of improvement soon, I’m considering shooting myself to put me out of everyone else’s misery.

Not really…. “Why should I play the Roman fool and die on my own sword… Whiles I see lives, the gashes do better upon them”. No?

OK, I’ll shoot someone else then… except, I have nothing at hand with which to shoot anybody… :(

It goes to show that sometimes the solitary life at sea isn’t much fun….

It’s now evidently clear to me that I should have added one more category to the list in my last post…

The Psychopathic Hypochondriac!

 

There will be no further posts ’till my sanity and / or health is back…

We’re a weird mob

Reflections from Fort de France

Reflections from Fort de France

Venturing north, where the concentration of yachtsmen appears inversely proportional to travel distances between ports, I’m clearly reminded that this getaway lifestyle attracts all sorts of individuals and groups!

Even the homeless can teach yachties a thing or two about fashion.

Even the homeless can teach yachties a thing or two about fashion.

Referring to us as “Yachties”, really doesn’t even scratch the surface of what is in fact a highly diverse group. The only common thread (myself excluded of course), is that yachtsmen have to be about the worlds least fashion conscious individuals.

There’s:

  • The Patriot (or Nouveau Conquistador when abroad), identified by the ensign that’s at least 30% the overall length of the yacht ( I exaggerate only slightly ). I watched one arrive the other day while visiting a fellow yachtsmen. As soon as the anchor was deployed, a crew member was dispatched to make a standing (literally), tour of the resident yachts. Presumably to better announce their arrival?
    “You know David, I haven’t even met that woman…. and already I can’t stand her….”
    And that, from a yachtsman carrying the same ensign!

Some think this is cool… The majority however think you’re a ……

  • The Naturist ( or nudist if you will ). A group phenomenon, where members delight in raw bohemian exhibitionism. Often surround unsuspecting yachts at anchor, and  proceed to give them a show that, I for one, would rather forget…
    If only the protagonists were a little younger… Say 40 years?
  • The Frugals ( penniless but persistent ), out to see the world, but unable to appreciate anything other than the view when they get there. They almost never leave their boat as doing so inevitably leads to an unbudgeted expense.
  • The Hustler (businessman or opportunist). See other yachtsmen or the places they visit as an untapped commercial market.
    Why do I lump them together?
    Because they both have that same unsavory polished zeal about them.
    I should know.. I’m building a marina after all ;) “Out damned spot! Out I say!!”
  • The Escapee ( Tax-man or ex-wife? ). Motto: They’ll never get me out here!!!
    I was once asked what I was running from, given that I’d chosen this unusual lifestyle… While I’ll admit that there are many yachtsmen who have indeed run away from something… Working for example… I’m not happy being tagged as an escapee… And that’s despite what I may have written in the past.
    Now it’s time to escape the self-imposed prisons of debt, monotony, and false ambition and weigh anchor.
    Perhaps that was just a phase I was going through, and now I’ve happily moved on to another category…. (or two)
  • The Seeker ( or quixotic individualist? ). I’m not talking about the I’m trying to “find my inner self” types… Those still insist on climbing mountains in Tibet or trekking through India. I’m talking about the ones who are really actively looking for their closest approximation of Shangri-La… I write “their” instead of “the”, because utopia is a matter of taste, and not even necessarily a place.
And people wonder at my fascination with leopard print....

And people wonder about my fascination with leopard prints….

  • The Playboy ( It’s not what you think…) It’s just that cruising for some yachties is a kind of game… On reflection, I’ve often been accused of exemplifying this classification… That’s not to say I don’t take anything I do seriously…
    On the contrary, playing games for me is a serious matter, to be taken most earnestly. It’s just that my honest answer to those who’ve asked…. “When will you stop sailing?” is…. When I tire of playing this game and feel then need to choose another.
    I suspect there may be others who follow suit. Or at least would like to ;)
  • The Enthusiast ( just can’t get enough ). Lives and breathes yachting. Can be rather dull at social functions due to his one topic conversational repertoire. Has not realised that not everybody, including other sailors, can stand talking about sail trim for hour upon hour. Found mostly around boat yards where his audience has difficulty escaping.
  • The Copycat ( he’s out there because you are ). In it’s mild form, I’m guessing it’s a case of being inspired by those who have gone before, be it Moitessier, Slocum, or Knox… Absolutely nothing wrong with that…
    But then there is the chronic copycat. He’s not there because of any particular plan or interest. He’s there because he couldn’t stand being left out of the “been there and done that” or the “been there bought that” crowd…
    A much healthier ( if somewhat antipodean ) response to adopt when faced with the sailing trophies of others is…Fine…And yet… “You can’t impress me because I’ve been to Bali too…”
    Note: Remind me to sail to Bali one day….

Complicating matters is that many sailors belong to more than one of the abovementioned categories. Meeting a patriot nudist playboy or a frugal copycat enthusiast is not as difficult as one might first imagine. It all just goes to show you that the cruising community can at times, be an odd one.

Feel free to comment on any other classifications I may have inadvertently missed…

 

 

A sailors life in images….

The life of a solitary sailor... It's all on film....

The life of a solitary sailor… It’s all on film….

I finally have an answer for those of you who’ve often asked…

What’s it like to leave it all behind and sail off into the sunset in your own boat?

Google has unwittingly provided it… Click on this link to see what I mean…

If the link doesn’t work just type “ifno.info/blog” (including the inverted commas) into google and then press images

Mind your own business?

shoe lace

Just doing my shoelaces can be traumatic here!

When you are in the Caribbean get ready for some misspent youth flashbacks. You know… back when you seemed to be told off for just about everything you did?

You have no such memories? OK, perhaps for some, it will be a new but equally unpleasant experience…

Read on as I elaborate with an example or two…

Finding a shoelace undone while wandering about town I pause to avoid the anticipated embarrassing tumble (I’m habitually risk averse). Placing my foot on a handy wall of the right height, I unconsciously do what I’ve done for as long as I can remember. Tie my laces… (double knots too… just to be sure), but before I have time to admire my handy-work, I’m accosted by a posse of aggrieved locals intent on lecturing me on the “dos and don’ts” (mostly the don’ts) of resting my shoe on a place where people might sit…

Good thing I’m not a renown serial killer, or who knows what level of verbal chastising I’d have suffered. But can you tell me why the fellow urinating on the wall opposite me attracted no comment? Perhaps mine was the greater of two sins?

I have it on good authority that the frequent scoldings are not directed at visitors by design, so keeping cool and playing dumb are the best way to deal with them…

I’m good at the latter and not so good with the former as clearly exemplified the other day when I found myself at Scarborough bus station. It was hot, and I was thirsty. A water fountain in the lobby beckoned. But was the water refrigerated? Pressing the button on the fountain head, I ran my fingers through the resulting stream only to have some middle aged lady harangue me in public for doing so…

“That’s for drinking, not for washing your hands!!!”

Startled by the rancor of the comment, I replied by reflex. Unfortunately, somewhat less sotto voce than intended…

“Is it not considered polite here to mind ones own affairs?”

Silence…

Time to make my exit while I still can….

Me and my big mouth…. I think I will be sailing tomorrow….

 

 

No, no and no!

coffee cup

Why can’t I have a cup of coffee?

Dogmatic inflexibility!

It’s the only way I can describe it… A pervasive Caribbean phenomenon yachtsmen and tourists alike require some time adjusting to.

Don’t take my word for it…. Ask any expatriate or visitor if they have had a similar experience to mine and you will have a topic for discussion that is sure to take you into the wee hours of the night…

What experience am I referring to?

Desperate for my morning caffeine, I made the mistake of going to a “subway” fast food outlet for coffee. My assumption being that the machine would be working overtime in such an establishment and I’d likely find a fresh brew.

With a big smile (anticipating my fix), I reach the counter… “Good morning!, I’ll have a small cup of black coffee please.”

“No, you can’t have coffee!”, states a bored employee.

“Err… Is there a problem with the machine?”

“No, we don’t have any cups”.

“Is there something wrong with those cups over there?”

“No, those are for other drinks”

Suddenly realizing that all sentences need start in the negative, I make my attempt to speak to the employee in her own language…

“Noooo matter… I’ll just have my coffee in a paper cup, the Styrofoam one really isn’t necessary is it?”

“No, I can’t do that..”

“No? Why is that?”

And then… the only response not starting with the word no…. said with what I can only describe as astounding conviction…..

“Because it will explode!”

Obviously I should have stopped insisting after the first no…

I live and learn….

Back and forth….

The little mermaid swims past...

The little mermaid swims by…

It’s been a busy month….

Last we heard of our intrepid adventurer, he was anchored off Store Bay, in Tobago recounting tall tales of pirates to all and sundry.

***

We'd rather lime than listen to another pirate tale...

All and Sundry….. We’d rather lime than listen to another pirate tale…

And while my daring and dastardly deeds had reached quasi herculean proportions, (by the fifteenth telling), it seems that the locals weren’t buying it any longer… More importantly they weren’t buying me my drinks either….

Oh well, it wasn’t a bad run while it lasted….

So… sullenly sipping aged rum on my yacht (am I allowed to call a 23 footer a yacht?),  watching the occasional mermaid swim by, I set about planning my next smart and cunning move… (no laughing please)….

Another marina authorization bites the dust...

Another marina authorization bites the dust…

Back in French Guiana (land of the sloths), my marina development was not unexpectedly moving ahead at.. you guess it…. a sloths pace….

Fine…. Slow and steady wins the proverbial race as they say, and meanwhile there’s time for the number of visiting yachts to increase, though most are of the “northbound from Brazil” variety.

How might I tempt those northern yachts to wander south?

Simple, make the rally idea a reality. It was time to team up with others who could assist with organizing and publicizing the annual event.

store bayQueue Store Bay Marine Services in Tobago. They will provide support and host the sendoff for the less than 40ft yachts.

 

 

ysatLarger yachts will leave one day later from Chaguaramas in Trinidad. Queue YSATT, Yacht Services Association of Trinidad & Tobago.

 

 

HurakabraFirst stop is Guyana, where the fleet will be hosted by Hurakabra River Resort and officially welcomed by the minister for tourism.

 

 

logoThe rally’s finishing line is, of course, Saint Laurent du Maroni in French Guiana, where another official welcome awaits and triggers a week of activities hosted by yours truly… aka Marina – Saint Laurent du Maroni.

So a hop back to Trinidad was the order of the day to concentrate on business without distractions of the mermaid kind…

India

Trinidad apparently has other distractions… ;)

Now where was I….. Ah, yes, organizing a rally…. I tend to get distracted easily these days….

 

It’s Alive!!!

No it won't be called Dave's Rally... :(

No it won’t be called Dave’s Rally… :(

A short note to let everyone know that I have not been devoured by sea-monsters or sailed off the edge of the earth. For the last two months I’ve been sailing between Trinidad and Tobago and French Guiana.

Why?

Because I’ve taken the Trinidad & Tobago, Guyana and French Guiana annual rally from half-baked concept to regular scheduled event starting September 2013.

Blog updates and more details soon…

On Passage to Tobago: NOT Suspiciously Pursued off Suriname – 2012

Rebel Lady comes to say hello!

I want to talk about pirates… It’s bound to find me a willing audience and no sailor worth his salt (in yarn telling) is without a repertoire of at least three life threatening pirate encounters.

I am admittedly somewhat inspired by a relatively recent report I’d read on noonsite.

Riveting stuff, but I can’t help making comparisons with what I’ve encountered on a regular basis, both within and well outside the area indicated by the report.

Fishing vessels have a habit of intercepting sailing yachts at sea. Sometimes its intentional, sometimes it’s not. Often it’s curiosity, but if you’ve ever seen how fishing vessels zigzag at sea, it’s really no surprise that they appear (at some stage or another), to be on a collision course.

So when a sailor says “This guy altered course as well … bearing and track to meet ours … I altered a bit more … he adjusted to intercept our line of travel … very odd!

In fact, this isn’t odd at all…

Then there is the “I saw a strange light” phenomenon”… Analogous to a UFO close encounter of the 1st kind…

Momentarily I glanced back … swore I saw a light on the horizon … on and then off …

and

There it was again … a light behind us … on and off … just once …

So on the basis of a fishing vessel seen on an intercept course and lights that flash at night, we have gone from “odd” to

I felt something was not right here …

Off Suriname fishermen use flashing lights to mark their nets. Frustrating because you have no idea which way to pass them, but it’s certainly not peculiar. In these waters, vessels will momentarily shine a light (sometimes just a torch, sometimes their mobile phone) if they see another vessel close by. It’s how they let you know they are there… Their boats are not equipped with navigation lights or radar reflectors for that matter.

But behold… further proof that something was amiss…

at which point I turned on the engines, swung around and headed straight out to sea …

In the distance we could see the boats meet up … now with all their lights on and there was a bit of a flurry of movement between them… of course we were not there …

Could they now be busy bringing in their nets?

Of course all rational thought goes out the window, especially when you’re physically and mentally exhausted…

I didn’t sleep a wink that night … “ and “During the early hours of the morning … there it was .. a light on a boat approaching our stern …he was gaining speed on us … @#$%&* !!!

I went downstairs and fetched the flare gun …

Is it just me or do others suspect that there has been a sudden quantum leap in irrational behavior here?

Did you say pirates???

Let me digress now and tell the story of my latest 6 day trip to Tobago.

On day five (the rest isn’t worth recounting), at 4am in the morning, I found myself in surprisingly similar circumstances.

I’d seen the lights of several fishing vessels the previous evening and 100NM out from Venezuela, I found a vessel rapidly closing in on Eileen’s stern.

After unsuccessfully hailing the crew on VHF 16, I sat watching it’s approach. I did not however fetch the flare gun…

I don’t own one…

When the boat was within a few cables it abruptly veered to port to… to… to….

overtake…

No pirate paraphernalia such as grappling hooks or waving Kalashnikov’s materialized, all I got was a good look at their fishing gear…

That they did not respond to my calls on VHF is not so unusual. Even fellow yachtsmen with fancy HF and VHF equipment entertain the bizarre habit of keeping them switch off.

Which takes us back to….

vessel approaching, we have to assume your intention is to do harm … we will have to take action against you … please alter course now … they did not … I took aim with my flare gun and fired

Go figure!

Their engines roared as they turned to port and disappeared like a bat out of hell!

Wouldn’t you?

On my last day out from Tobago another fishing vessel approached Eileen on an “intercept” course. This time it was during daylight hours, so I was able to take a nice snapshot for the blog. When the boat was within a few cables, my VHF radio came to life (Note that I leave mine on despite the drain on the batteries).

Fisherman: “Little boat, this is Rebel Lady, are you alright?”

Eileen: “Yes everything is fine thank you.”

Fisherman: “Just came over to check. That’s one small boat you have there. Where are you headed?

I’ll spare you the rest of the small talk but I’ll have you note that at no point did he have me walk the plank or hand over my treasures…

I’m now safely at anchor in Tobago telling pirate tales to anyone who buys me a drink… ;)

Tobago, French Guiana, Guyana Rally?

How about an annual rally during the hurricane season?

Killing time feeding the local strays obviously has its propitious side (look at all my new best friends), but I’m getting itchy feet. No I haven’t contracted canine Tinea Pedis, I’m talking about the wanderlust kind of itch.

If I have a sailing boat… shouldn’t I be sailing?….

Mad dogs or a new rally?

The trouble is we’re still in the middle of the hurricane season and sailing options become somewhat limited in the Caribbean during a hurricane… Key word here being hurricane.. ;)

It is however an opportune time to visit Guyana, Tobago and French Guiana. So where is everyone?

What do you think of this exciting idea?

Apart from hiding from hurricanes, I suspect they are working hard doing boat maintenance in Trinidad.

Guess I’ll have to go fetch them…

Hear ye hear ye!

Register now for the new annual Tobago,  Guyana, Saint Laurent rally! I’m so keen on this idea, I’m sailing north to tell everyone about it.

Destination Tobago…

ETA one week…

Not everyone makes it across.

The other day a reader informed me of some distressing if belated news on the fate of a fellow navigator.
Bodo Rufenach , the sailor in question, was my neighbor during Eileen’s several week stay in Las Palmas Gran Canaria. While he largely kept to himself (understandably, we were all rather busy making our final preparations for the big crossing), I recall snippets of conversation with him on topics as varied as wind vane design, boat names, and cockroach infestation prevention. He was clearly a sensible and experienced yachtsman. I’d never entertained the slightest doubt that he would arrive safely in the Caribbean…
At the time I’d placed a link to his website from my blog, but I’d not kept up with his travels, only now discovering that he was if fact, lost at sea.
His yacht ( a superbly maintained a steel Van de Stad 34 called “Balu”), was found adrift near Martinique with no-one aboard.

Why do I mention this now?
Because perhaps I’ve been guilty of trivializing lengthy passages at sea. Despite my laid-back approach to sailing, I know that one can never be too careful. It’s not just horrendous weather that navigators need worry about. The most trivial distraction at an inopportune time can have equally dire consequences. Especially when you are alone.
While cruising is largely about risk management, there remains an element of luck.
We make our preparations and roll the dice. Despite the probabilities, some individuals seem to have more than their fair share of rolling a double six.
Others tragically less.

Fair winds Bodo.