A nice conversation

The fire alarm went off for the umpteenth time that afternoon, and I threw down my spanner impatiently to grab a vhf and check the compartment. Was Garry conducting heat gun experiments in cabin six again? No, this was from the engine room and as we trooped down, you could see the oxyacetylene hose leads going down the hatch. One of the carpenters came around the bend of the corridor.

"Oh yeah, he's been using a torch down there, you should really have put someone on fire watch." As I already had the radio, the others left me to it, and I climbed down the hatch to make myself acquainted with the yard worker. 

Shipyard is a busy and chaotic time. It's exciting because we get to knock out all the jobs we can't do at sea, but it is hectic and can be a bit scary as the ship gets pulled apart. 

Anyways, I got into the hazy engine room and there was the guy torching one of the drive shafts. I regret to say I still don't know the man's name, but we've referred to him before as "the guy with the cigarette" because he always has a smoke hanging out of one side of his mouth, sometimes lit and sometimes not. He noticed me and cut the torch with a bang as I removed the smoke detector on the ceiling. 

"Ah yes, annoying things, those. Always going off down here while you're trying to get something done." He shifted the coupling on the end of the prop shaft, "just the other one left to do." With that he turned to the starboard engine, drew a lighter,and  lit first his cigarette and then the torch. As he heated the starboard side, he told me a bit about what he was doing, and then a story. 

"I once sailed out of Newport Beach in California, they build a lot of boats out there. Yes, plastic fantastic! That's just what this thing was, fantastic and thinner than paper, just ready to break apart. And brand new, fancy. We sailed it all the way to Amsterdam via the Panama Canal. Great trip. It was owned by a rich guy though, and that whole thing gets old after awhile, all the cleaning and keeping the boat pretty. Made great money, better than I do here, but we got to Amsterdam and I said see you later. I'm happy with this job. See, what I have to do next while this is cooling, is assemble those pumps again." He pointed under both the generators. 

"Tight spot to work!" I remarked

"Yeah, it really is a pain down here, impossible to get to anything. But I like engines, and ships like this, so I don't mind." 

Props to the Travel Writers

I've been really bad at writing lately, and for the longest time I've wondered why it is so difficult for me sometimes. My life is full of ample material, more so than probably ever before; why can't I just put it down on paper? I envy those travel writers in magazines and online everywhere who take a weekend trip to the Mediterranean and manage to express a full length article from it. I spent a total of six weeks sailing in the Antarctic region and a month traveling Southern Africa, with hardly more than one little blip written down. However, after having a think about it, the conclusion I've come to is perhaps my life is a little too busy and therefore it takes me longer to process experiences into remotely readable words. And I never allow myself enough time to thoroughly write.  I've discovered it takes about a month after an experience or place before it starts turning into words. I suppose I prefer removing myself some distance so the thing becomes simple enough in my mind to relate. 

A Living Tradition

There were some things in life I left to sort out when I first went to sea, thinking the salt and the rolling swell would help me come to some conclusions on the direction my life should take. Ironically, here I am thousands of nautical miles later and in some ways no closer to knowing where I'm headed. But I have made some incredible discoveries in the meantime, many of which have confirmed to me that the sea is indeed a good way of life despite its hardships, and it has its place in the modern world as well.

Sailing around on a tall ship may sound extravagant at first; time and money thrown into an old steel hull, some rigging and a crew to sail her to exotic locations. We're not transporting cargo or doing extensive scientific research (we do record and transmit our weather observations though), so many would be inclined to think it's just a millionaire's hobby, a weird sort of cruise taking wealthy people on holiday to unusual places. 

But a tall ship is so much more than that; if the above description was what we were all about then I can assure you tall ships would no longer exist. 

Before the days of steam or Diesel engines, the oceans of the world were traversed by sail. Countries invested fortunes and men invested their lives to sailing. It was a way of life, a catalyst of world trade, an efficient mode of transportation. 

There were also hundreds of years of tradition along with that; how a ship should be kept, the hierarchy of the crew, and a proper way to do everything. With natural fibers and manpower, we sailed the seas until the advent of the marine engine. In a rush for speed and perhaps warfare, the big old ships were left to rot and rust, and an ageless way of life was nearly lost. 

Fortunately for us, there were a few who realized the importance of keeping it alive. There is much to be gained from sailing, from vigilance and hard work to a healthy respect and understanding for nature and the forces that occur at sea. Not only are there the physical aspects, but also the mental ones; patience, trust and everything else that comes with living with fifty other souls for months on end.  You learn to appreciate the little things in every day, and all the burdens of life in a twenty first-century first-world country suddenly lose their priority. 

And that is what we share with those who come sailing with us; a change of pace and a different way of life that challenges how society has trained us to think. The most profound experience that we encounter is not the destination but the journey. A tall ship is a living tradition, and not one that should be forgotten.

Bergies and Penguins...

"...Morning Coffee with Klaas, Marianne and Sophie in the wheelhouse this morning seemed surreal. The portholes were spattered with massive soppy snowflakes, through which we saw fantastic blue and white icebergs floating past. Nick's voice crackled over the radio now and again as he stood ice watch up on the foredeck, and I thought myself a bit lucky that today was my turn being the galley fairy. The bosun was concerned last night about keeping the new foredeck wet, but today that won't be a problem... The snowflakes were turning into a thick slush on the deck and the clock was nearing seven; time to get breakfast started and spend some seriously emotional moments chopping onions. As I crossed the main deck a particularly nice berg with an aquamarine arch rolled past. Just another coffee break on Europa."

Working on the ship, one often forgets where we are and the everyday natural wonders that we sail past. Life just simplifies and condenses itself (especially if one happens to be sleep deprived) until, if one is not careful, one finds oneself smothered in the plight of the deckhand - trying to please both the bosun and the cook, keep the voyage crew happy by including them in the sailing but also keeping the officers happy by doing so in a timely manner. It's quite the balance. But once in awhile, a particularly nice day or a giant blue iceberg, or an extra few hours of sleep will remind one that we are past the end of the world, in the wilds of the seventh continent, and about as close to raw, untouched nature as one can get.

Some of that nature includes the Penguins. I must admit I was a bit skeptical at the start of my first trip about the penguins, mainly because there is so much hype about how cute they are. But after seeing my first penguin it all melted away because they are indeed cute, they have to be one of the most unique and cute things I have ever seen. Watching them happily waddle down the beach to go for a swim, wings outstretched behind them for balance is something I'll never forget. They are incredibly awkward on land, amazingly graceful in the ocean, and just all around adorable.

There is much more that I saw in Antarctica, some great moments with nature and with mates, some that can't be described in words. The sheer ruggedness of the landscape took my breath away, and the amount that it changes in just a month is awesome. One of the more special moments was a morning on the second trip when I scrambled on deck with a mug of tea and was taken aback with rays of sunshine, seventy-meter-high glaciers nearby and ice everywhere. It was difficult to see exactly how Eric has got the ship into this position because we seemed to be completely surrounded, and Jordi, our lead guide was simply ecstatic. This was a new place for everyone, even Jordi hadn't been here before, and it was the furthest south Europa had ever been. There was too much ice for the tenders, so the morning was spent cruising Europa around among the bergs in unsurveyed waters. What else is there to say, really, it was a unique experience where everyone was lost in the beauty of Antarctica. 

So I would say this venture, one I didn't see myself doing even a few years ago, was a smashing success. Maybe I haven't figured my life out, but I've made some incredible discoveries about life and how you choose to live it. If you take the opportunities that arise, however unlikely they may be, they do have the potential to take you to some incredible places, physically and mentally, and bring you to new perspectives that you never would have considered before.

At the End of the World

I thought maybe I was overthinking things when I jammed all my layers into my backpack. Now I'm thankful for all of them. Ushuaia is developed from a frontier town and the surroundings are pure wilderness. Stiff snowy peaks rise in three directions, and the other is the Beagle Channel. The air is cold. When the sun peeks out it is surprisingly warm, but the wind rips through you when it blows in the afternoon. We had a double crew between trips so it was a good combination of getting a lot of jobs done and catching up with mates. Tomorrow we sail.