At sea

Bajorted! Dachorted!

2006-02-03T15:10:00.000-08:00

I'm home a few days early...

Translation: Get your visa-less American ass out of our country! (More detailed document can be viewed here.)

Okay, so technically, I wasn't deported from Brazil. I was given three days to leave the country, and if I didn't, then they were going to arrest and deport me.

It was an interesting and memorable experience, spending three hours with the feds in the back room of the Recife airport. (I had to take a taxi to go to airport immigration because the maritime immigration officer didn't know what to do with me.) Not knowing any Portuguese, I explained my situation to them in Spanish -- that I'd arrived in their country that morning on a boat along with three Europeans (who didn't need visas to visit Brazil), that I wasn't aware that as an American I needed a visa, and that I already had a plane ticket to leave the country on Feb 6 -- and then I had to decipher and guess at the meaning of their responses in Portuguese. The process repeated itself each time another person walked in the room and was curious to know what that bony brown Asian was doing there in the corner.

When I wasn't explaining myself, most of my time was spent sitting quietly, being thankful that I wasn't going to spend the night in a Brazilian prison, and just patiently waiting for Mauricio da Silva Costa to finish typing up my official threat documents. Brazilian bureaucracy in action: he went through at least fifteen drafts, checking them over, printing them out, and running them by three other people, then re-editing the documents again and again, taking over two hours before they were all satisfied.

In the meantime, I watched a few coworkers of Mauricio prepare a practical joke on him involving a lot of balloons in another room -- lots of covert smiles being exchanged between them. Things got a lot more exciting when some criminal was suddenly hauled through the office and thrown in a jail cell in the back. For a short while afterwards, the office was flooded with MPs and higher-ranking suits who were investigating what had happened. When that commotion died down, I spent some time chatting with an officer who'd been a police helicopter pilot for many years before switching to airport patrol; he later helped me find my way around the airport and reschedule my flight.

The whole experience just made that first day back on land (Jan 31) all the more surreal. And in the end, everything turned out great: the officials were really quite friendly and fun to talk with, it cost me only $10 to change my departure date to Feb 2, and I still had a couple days to tour Recife before coming back home.

So now, I'm back. I've got a lot more stories to share, a lot of weight to regain, and a lot of old threads to pick up along with some new ones as well. But first, a nice long nap!

Au revoir

2006-01-08T00:40:00.000-08:00

Well, my sailing blog is finally up-to-date -- posts between "Arrived in Africa" and "Cape Verde" are now replete with photos and anecdotes. Nothing like a deadline to stir those creative juices.

I guess this means that I'm ready for another oceanic adventure. I head out tomorrow at 5:30 AM on a Delta flight to Atlanta, followed by a SAA flight direct to Sal. I'll meet up with LouLou and Jaki in the airport on Monday afternoon, and we'll take a chartered flight to Praia, where Robert is picking us up. We are planning to spend a few days in Cape Verde to adjust to the jetlag and to re-acquaint ourselves with the boat, and then we'll be casting off for the open Atlantic around Jan. 15.

We'll be sailing from Praia, Cape Verde to Recife, Brazil, which should take somewhere between sixteen and twenty days non-stop. With four of us aboard, we'll be taking 2-hr shifts and be able to sleep for six hours straight -- quite luxurious compared with previous sails!

I'm bringing some new books, new music, new lenses, and lots of snacks, optimistically hoping that the biggest challenge we're going to face on this trip is an occasional bout of boredom. But the adrenaline is starting to flow as I imagine battling with force 7 winds, forty-foot swells, fortune-hungry pirates, and most feared of all, that forking seasickness.

Looking back, the last six months, both abroad and in the U.S., have been truly incredible, and numerous events and friendships have reminded me to appreciate how precious life is and how fortunate I am. Sorry for gushing, but thank you to everyone who has been a part of these experiences or made them possible, for touching my life and for allowing me to share in yours.

If I don't post a blog entry in Praia, then you probably won't be hearing from me again until early February. I'll be flying back from Brazil to Plano on Feb. 7, and then driving up to Palo Alto to start a new job. In the meantime, so long, best wishes, and bon voyage to you all!

Plano, TX

2005-11-28T10:40:00.000-08:00

33º04.403' N
96º47.261' W

I've been back in Texas for exactly one week now, enjoying the comforts of solid land and being at home with my family. It's been a whirlwind of activity since I returned -- lots of holiday hustlin' and bustlin' and whatnot -- but it's been surprisingly easy to slip back into this fast pace of life.

I do miss life on the boat though...

I'm going back to Errance in January to make the crossing from Cape Verde to Brazil. While I'm still in the States, I've got a long list of things to do, including practicing my French and filling in the missing entries of my blog.

Sorry to all for being incommunicado for so long. Check for retroactive updates between Oct. 27 and Nov. 21, and in the meantime, here are a few pictures of me taken at home, including definitive proof of facial hair!

NYC

2005-11-21T12:00:00.000-08:00

Saw this painting at the new MOMA. It seemed appropriate for my blog:

"Out at sea. Will be back some time in future..."

I'm back, baby. I'm back.

While in the area, I also visited B&H, CAW @ NYU, GCT, (badly needed IAD,) HGC, H&Y, KCL, AMT, and my aunt and cousin in Midtown East. All in all, an action-packed weekend and a thrilling way to return to the U.S.

This morning, as I was headed to the airport at 4 AM, my taxi almost got hit by a drunk driver, who then proceeded to heckle us at the next traffic light. I was too tired to be scared, probably more astounded than anything else, so I just raised an eyebrow and watched through my window as he yelled profanities at my driver.

It's good to be back.

UV's apartment, sans UV

2005-11-17T12:30:00.000-08:00

40º45.633' N
73º59.147' W

Cape Verde

2005-11-13T14:00:00.000-08:00

16º45.076' N
22º58.868' W

The passage from Nouakchott to Cape Verde was quite demanding. It was a nearly 500-mile sail, and on the evening of the second day, we began having stormy weather with 25- to 30-knot winds, varying in direction from the northeast to slightly southeast. Since we were travelling southwest, this meant that we had to pay close attention to the sail at all times, lest we jibe uncontrollably. The batteries were low, and there wasn't much sun to charge them, so one of us was always steering by hand.

We had the mainsail tied to protect against a jibe, but early that second night, we were sailing very close to the wind, when it suddenly changed direction and pushed the sail to the other side. I was below deck finishing my dinner, and the first thing I heard was the sound of shattering glass, followed by the noise of the sail flapping violently. The boat slowed down and began rocking heavily from side to side.

When we got out on the deck, we could see what had happened. The sound of glass was from a lightbulb that had fallen from one of the portside shrouds, but it wasn't a big deal, except that we needed to watch our step. The important issue was re-rigging the sail and getting the ship back under control. Since it was still tied down but had been blown across, the mainsail was basically pinned on the wrong side of the boat.

We tried turning to let the wind push it back over to the right side, but even though the sail was reefed, the wind was simply too strong for the manouevre, and we couldn't get enough momentum to complete the turn. Our only option was to lower the sail and raise it again. This required Robert to go to the bow, while LouLou and I held flashlights for him, pulled the lines, and steered the boat, all with force 6 winds blowing by and ten-foot waves crashing down around us.

In the middle of this mayhem, a flying fish jumped out of the water and hit me square in the chest, then fell into the boat, flapping around next to my feet. Since it was so dark, it took me a few seconds to realize what it was. My hand was on my chest, feeling around for a gunshot wound or something, when I finally processed what had happened. I wanted to laugh and tell the others, but there was too much stuff to tend to for the moment. I didn't even remember it happening until the next morning, when I saw the dead fish in the cockpit.

We managed to get the sail down, and we decided to stick with using only the genoa for the rest of the voyage to avoid any more potential jibes. The weather remained pretty rough for the rest of the sail, but thankfully, we didn't have any other problems.

We arrived in Sal island in the afternoon of the fourth day. Much celebration ensued.

Here are a few pictures from Sal:

Panorama of the salt mine:

Nouakchott

2005-11-08T15:00:00.000-08:00

17º59.037' N
16º01.988' W

Nouakchott was pretty uneventful. My most vivid memory of the city wasn't even in the city; it was on the boat.

As we got close to the city, we noticed more and more flies in the boat. We tried a few homemade solutions (e.g. honey in a jar with saran wrap) before resorting to the flyswatter, but there were simply too many to get rid of. Their numbers just kept growing. Also, since we were anchored far from shore and it was evening when we arrived, we didn't bother trying to take the dinghy to shore the first day.

That night, the flies were nice enough to leave us alone -- I guess flies have to sleep too -- but by the next morning, they had tripled in number. By mid-day, there were at least 500 flies in our boat. Several times, I was able to kill 7 flies with one swing of the flyswatter. Gh-ross! (a la Napoleon D.) Added to the 95° heat and the pungent drafts of smoke from a nearby landfill, life was pretty miserable on the boat. But we were stuck there another day, since we needed to wait for Bujari to make arrangements on shore before we could disembark.

The third day, we finally went into the capital to get our passports stamped and to re-stock on food and supplies. One thing we made sure to get was a chemical spray called "Fly-tox." Afterwards, Annie and I spent the afternoon in a restaurant, escaping the heat and talking with a Senegalese man who later proposed to Annie several times. In the meantime, LouLou and Bujari brought the supplies back to the boat. LouLou sealed all the windows and doors, sprayed almost the entire can of Fly-tox inside, and spent the afternoon fishing.

The Fly-tox did its trick, thank god!, but we still had over 500 flies in the boat, except now they were all dead. There were fly carcasses everywhere -- on the stove, in the sink, in my sheets, under my mattress...everywhere! LouLou had graciously cleaned up most of them from the dining area, but we were still finding dead flies in various nooks and crannies a week later.

The next day, we expected the flies to return, but to our pleasant surprise, no more came. We concluded that it was one of three reasons:
1) there was still the lingering smell of Fly-tox to drive the flies away
2) the flies had somehow communicated to each other that our boat was a fly extermination chamber
3) all the flies in the city had been in our boat, and we'd just killed them all

I like to think it was reason 3, in which case we probably deserve some sort of medal :)

Banc d'Arguin National Park

2005-11-06T21:00:00.000-08:00

The park was AMAZING, and definitely worth all the tribulations of the previous day. Millions of birds live in this international wetland reserve, with over 100 different species. For more information on the park, click here.

We saw flocks of flamingoes, pelicans, and a dozen different species of terns, and dolphins accompanied us almost the entire way, doing all sorts of spectacular tricks. There were rainbow-colored fish that jumped straight out of the water, only to be caught and eaten mid-air by a dolphin -- not sure what the fish were thinking, but it was fun to watch!

On a related note, this experience was largely responsible for my recent purchase of a new lens... *sigh* if only I'd had it then :)

A few pictures from the park:

The people in the middle picture are, from left to right: Robert, Anne, park guide, Bujari, Annie (petite maman), and LouLou.

Cap Tafarit

2005-11-04T10:00:00.000-08:00

20º06.683' N
16º15.644' W

We sailed to Cap Tafarit in order to visit the Banc d'Arguin National Park. Since Mauritania's entire coastal region is less than 5 m deep, we needed a guide, Bujari, to navigate us safely through those waters. Near the cape is a village called Arkeiss. It turns out that one of Bujari's cousins lives there, and we were welcomed into his home for tea and lunch.

Mauritanian tea is served in three rounds, representing life, love, and death. Each serving is progressively sweeter, which is probably why I liked the "death" round the most. However, I normally do not drink a lot of caffeine, so I was quite jittery by the end of the third serving.

Here is a picture of Moktar Bujari Heiba, preparing the tea in his cousin's home:

Arkeiss is a very small village, with only ten or fifteen homes. There are no paved roads or street lights, and of course, no dock. So we were anchored about a mile offshore and needed to take the dinghy each time we disembarked.

Here is a picture from shore, with the dinghy en route to Errance in the distance (you can just make out the dinghy with two passengers aboard in the upper left):

Cap Tafarit is roughly 30 km north of the park, but it was as close as we were allowed to sail: visitors can only enter the park with an authorized guide. Our first day in Arkeiss, we made arrangements with a local fisherman to ride with him to Iwik, where we could find another guide to take us into the park. The fisherman was the only person in the village with a car, so he was our only option. He told us to be on shore waiting for him at 7 AM.

The next morning, we got up at 5:30 AM and piled into the dinghy. It was a new moon and since there were no lights on shore to guide us, we had to use the stars (Cassiopeia) to lead us there. The water was pretty rough, and we all got soaked -- each time a wave hit us, Anne or Annie would shriek and our grimaces momentarily turned into laughs. It took us about thirty minutes to get to shore and another ten minutes to carry the dinghy a half-mile to make sure it wouldn't drift away. Then we waited for our ride to show up.

At 7:45, we were still there, groggy and wet, and we found out from Bujari that the fisherman had waited for us and left. Frustration and confusion all around, but not much we could do. We wandered around the village another day, and we decided that we would sleep on land that night, so as not to miss our ride again the next morning.

We stayed in a tent by the ocean, which sounds pretty cool, except that there were twenty-knot winds all night long and we couldn't close the tent flaps without the tent falling over. So we left them open and endured the sand that blew over us throughout the night.

Here's a picture of a tent similar to the one we stayed in:

A pickup truck arrived at 4:30 AM to pick us up, which explained why we'd missed the ride the previous day. We sat in the back of the pickup for half an hour, as the fisherman drove through the cold, pitch-black night at 50 mph along unmarked roads. Since I was sitting in the middle, I couldn't even grip anything to give me the false assurance that it would stop me from flying out when we hit the next bump. No one made a sound -- I think we were all silently making our peace with the world.

But all's well that ends well. And one of the things that kept me going was the thought that, if I survive, at least it will make a good blog entry :)

Nouadhibou

2005-11-01T12:00:00.000-08:00

20º54.737' N
17º02.500' W

After arriving in Africa, it was another 24 hours before we set foot on dry land. Nouadhibou doesn't receive a lot of tourists from the sea, and we needed special permission to dock in the city, which took time for our local guide to arrange. When we finally pulled into port, I looked around at the other boats: there were hundreds of small fishing boats and dozens of big cargo ships, but we were the only sailboat in the area.

As we were docking, my first impression was that we were being treated like royalty or like celebrities, because there was a large gathering of people waiting to greet us, everyone wearing regal robes. I soon found out that the robes are just a part of the culture -- they keep the sand off their clothes -- and, aside from our guide Adeja, all the people were there to ask us if we would pay them to guard our ship.

Our first stop was the police station, a dark and foreboding office, where we had our passports and visas examined. Even though the police chief was very polite and quite pleasant to talk to, it felt like we were being interrogated and needed to give the "right" answers...or else!

Next we took a car ride through the lively city, and then drove a few miles south to a hotel in Cansado that Adeja had arranged for us. I spent the afternoon wandering around Cansado, taking pictures and listening to the hypnotic Islamic prayers emanating from loudspeaker towers throughout the city.

After dinner, we went back into the city with Adeja and his friends. The city had turned into a huge bazaar, with every square inch occupied by a blanket sprawled out with goods, or by merchants and customers, noisily prodding and haggling. We snaked our way through the crowd, constantly pushing and squirming and apologizing and thanking, and I got disoriented and lost several times. I would probably still be there wandering around if my travel companions hadn't been keeping an eye on me.

We returned to the hotel, where I slept on land for the first time since leaving America. Before going to bed though, I took full advantage of the amenities by charging all of my gadgets, catching up on my journal and my blog, and watching a DVD into the early morning, so it was actually one of my less restful nights.

The following day, we went to main tourist site of the city: the train station. Called the "longest train in the world," the train is typically around 3 km in length and transports iron ore and passengers between Nouadhibou and Zouerat. Dozens of people waited patiently in the sand, some of them sitting or lying down a few feet from the tracks, and we spent a half hour chatting and taking photos with them. When the train arrived, it took less than ten minutes for them to load the wagons with hundreds of empty iron barrels and gas tanks -- quite an operation to watch!

Below are some pictures from the city:

Fishermen about to head out for the day:

Our hotel in the background, with some kids playing in the water and a man bringing his sheep down for a drink:

Adeja Sidi El Moctar, our wonderful guide and friend:

The train station:

And a few other pics:

Arrived in Africa

2005-10-31T17:00:00.000-08:00

20º50.721' N
17º01.805' W

Oops! -- I knew Robert shouldn't have left me in charge of navigating in the bay!

Just kidding :)

The Baie de Cansado was littered with half-sunken ships like this one, not due to any storms or accidents, but just out of neglect. There was also a lot of dust and acrid smells in the air from the nearby iron factories.

As a result, we had mixed emotions as we arrived after four days of sailing -- relieved to have made it, but unsure of what to expect next.

Back to El Hierro

2005-10-27T21:00:00.000-07:00

27º47.105' N
17º54.085' W

We set out for Africa at 9 AM this morning, but after two hours of sailing, unexpected force 7 winds from the west forced us to turn around and come back to the same pier we'd just left (the only one on the island).

Shortly after we finished docking, the wind picked up and started slamming the boat against the concrete wall of the pier, which was designed for ferries and other boats much bigger than ours. Since we were only tied on our port side, (the side that was getting slammed,) we couldn't simply tighten the lines on the opposite side to counter the wind. Two fenders were popped and one stanchion got bent nearly 90 degrees.

While we tried to figure out what to do, all five of us were on deck, pushing against the wall as hard as we could to try to cushion the force of the wind. Eventually, we found a safer place further inside the pier and moved the boat there, after which we all celebrated and then promptly collapsed.

Unfortunately, I don't have any snapshots of this mayhem, but here are some photos from our rental-car tour of El Hierro, which I hadn't prepared in time for yesterday's post:

We'll try to set sail for Africa again tomorrow.

El Hierro

2005-10-26T21:52:00.000-07:00

We arrived in El Hierro yesterday at 6 PM, and we're heading out tomorrow morning for Mauritania, a four-days' sail away.

27º47.069' N
17º54.075' W

Last night, I finally got my act together and prepared some photos for the web. The following are basically in chronological order.

Fuerteventura:

Gran Canaria:

Herve and Martine:

La Gomera:

"Water-sitting" (Herve demonstrating):

Ocean view:

Dolphins!!! During our sail from La Gomera to El Hierro, a whole group of them appeared out of nowhere and swam right alongside the boat. They stayed for five minutes, and then left as quickly as they had come:

Lastly, a couple of panaromas (stitched with DIS v11). The first one is from Lanzarote, and the second from the top of El Teide in Tenerife. Click for full image: (WARNING -- files are large!)

Next stop: Africa.

San Sebastian, part deux

2005-10-24T18:00:00.000-07:00

28º05.336' N
17º06.460' W

We're back in La Gomera for one night, just stopping here on our way to El Hierro. The reason for the small loop in our itinerary is that we needed to be on Tenerife over the weekend to catch a couple of airline flights. We dropped off Herve and Martine at the airport on Saturday, and this morning we picked up Anne (whom I know from before), and a new couple, LouLou and Annie. The three of them will be travelling with us for the next month. (They all speak French.)

The past week included a new water sport for me, which I have dubbed "water-sitting." It basically just consists of sitting in a harness tied to the spar off the front of the bow while the boat cruises along. It's as much or as little exercise as you want it to be -- you can waterski barefoot or hang upside down with your head in the water or just sit there and enjoy the new perspective. For me, the most strenuous part was just getting into the harness, since the first two times I tried, the harness came untied and I had to cling to the spar for dear life.

Last Thursday, before we sailed to Tenerife (and "water-sat" along the way), we anchored in a cove along the eastern cliffs of La Gomera for a few hours and did some snorkeling and swimming. The area was completely secluded, and the water was clear and refreshing. The snorkeling was really fun for me: in addition to seeing a few interesting fish, it was neat to see the underside of the boat for the first time.

On Friday, we went to the top of El Teide, the main mountain on Tenerife and the highest elevation point in all of Spain. We took a cable car to the base of the summit and then hiked around for a couple hours. The view was very nice, but I was a little bit light-headed from the thin air. We were disappointed that we weren't allowed to go all the way to the peak because we hadn't obtained a special permit in advance, but perhaps that was for the best...

During today's short sail, we saw some dolphins in the distance and followed them for a little while.

All in all, it's been an exciting week. Sorry I don't have any pictures to post -- I took a bunch, but I haven't gotten a chance to sit down and prepare them for the web yet.

Sorry also for the dearth of information on my blog regarding our adventures on Fuerteventura and Gran Canaria. They were both very beautiful islands, but we didn't do anything too exciting on either one -- just more of what has become our routine of renting a car and exploring the island. (I've also become reasonably proficient at driving stick-shift, so it no longer seems newsworthy when I don't run anyone over.)

That's all for now. Hope everyone's doing well!

Tenerife

2005-10-20T17:00:00.000-07:00

28º14.830' N
16º50.605' W

On a pontoon in Los Gigantes.

La Gomera

2005-10-18T09:00:00.000-07:00

28º05.340' N
17º06.462' W

We sailed overnight to arrive here in San Sebastian.

Agaete

2005-10-16T19:00:00.000-07:00

28º05.998' N
15º42.706' W

We have two new guests on board, Herve and Martine, who joined us this morning and will be with us for a week. The lingua franca on Errance is now back to French... which means we do a lot of pointing to communicate :)

One month

2005-10-13T15:24:00.000-07:00

It's been one month since I first stepped aboard Errance in Lisbon. It hadn't seemed that long, and I hadn't felt like much had really changed until I framed it that way. Then I became aware that, actually, a lot has happened and a lot has changed.

I'm not trying to say anything deep and insightful or anything... just looking back and observing how far I've gone.

On a related note: on the way to Las Palmas, Robert remarked during our 2 AM watch change that I had just sailed my 1000th nautical mile.

Gran Canaria

2005-10-12T09:00:00.000-07:00

28º07.714' N
15º25.508' W

We're docked in Las Palmas.

Fuerteventura

2005-10-10T13:00:00.000-07:00

28º44.440' N
13º51.890' W

Arrived in Corralejo.

Lanzarote

2005-10-07T23:47:00.000-07:00

Lanzarote lives up to expecations -- it is amazing! We arrived on Wednesday evening and docked in the Puerto Calero marina, on the southeast coast of the island.

28º55.026' N
13º42.041' W

First, a few pictures of the Salvagem island we stopped at, and a representative of each species of its animal inhabitants:

Below is the treacherous dock where I fell in the water. Our dinghy is the one closer to the water. My clothes and belongings are drying in the other dinghy, which belongs to the island office.

The two officials were very friendly, even though they were anxiously awaiting a boat to relieve them of their duty. The boat was two weeks late, so I think they were just happy to see some new people. The first thing they asked us was if we had any cigarettes. Having none, we offered them some chocolate instead. They accepted.

Next, some pictures of Isla Graciosa:

We had a perfect day of sailing for our trip from Isla Graciosa to Lanzarote. Warm weather, strong wind from the northeast, the current going with us... and no seasickness!

A couple pictures of me steering the boat -- I think I'm rocking out to U2 in the second photo:

Check out that scruffy facial hair from a month of unkempt unshavenness!

Okay, back to Lanzarote. When we arrived in Puerto Calero, the first thing we noticed was the abundance of racing sailboats in the marina. It turns out that there is a trans-Atlantic race that departs from here in the next few days.

Like in Madeira, we rented a car to explore the island, but this time the rental agency required that the driver be at least 25, so Robert is driving the car while we're here. You lucked out, drivers of Lanzarote!

On Thursday, we explored the north side of the island. A large portion of the architecture on the island is the brainchild of artist César Manrique, and we stopped at his bizarro former-home-turned-museum, which was built over a stream of petrified lava.

Some of his work on the island:

Today, we took the tour of the Timanfaya volcano park. The park is very touristy and crowded, but definitely worth the visit. The volcanoes in that region of the island erupted intermittently between 1730 and 1736, leaving an incredibly scarred and eerie landscape. Most of the island is covered in black lava rocks, but there are streaks of red and orange in sections of the island as well. The resulting impression I have of Lanzarote is sort of a crossbreeding of Arizona, Spain, and the moon.

Images from Lanzarote:

We will be departing for Fuerteventura either tomorrow or Sunday. It's supposed to be a lot greener, which will be weird after our visit to the moon.

Isla Graciosa

2005-10-04T18:23:00.000-07:00

29º13.702' N
13º30.214' W

In the Canary Islands now. We arrived around noon today. Nothing particularly noteworthy for the remainder of the way here. The patch did its trick, so I was able to do my shifts without any problems. I didn't dare do any reading on the way, for fear that it would upset my stomach, so I listened to a LOT of music.

Isla Graciosa is one of the smallest and least touristy islands. It's peaceful and nice, if a bit boring. But boring is great, as long as it's stable! Tomorrow we head for the neighboring Lanzarote, which is supposed to be one of the most spectacular islands.

I like sailing... but I also like land.

Salvagem Islands

2005-10-02T20:20:00.000-07:00

Saved!

30º08.312' N
15º52.352' W

We arrived at the larger of the two Salvagem Islands at 1:30 PM today. The sea conditions were not very good, and Robert would not have stopped, except that I was so sick and needed a break.

At first we just anchored, but we didn't feel very secure, since if the anchor slipped, we would be in danger of being pushed into the sharp rocks and cliffs of the island. Fortunately, there was a mooring buoy that we could attach ourselves to. It's normally used by military ships, so it was a very large and unwieldy buoy -- tying ourselves to it was no easy task. For our first attempt, I steered the boat and ended up hitting the buoy head on. (Oops!) Robert suggested that we switch roles after that, and I managed to hook us onto the buoy.

Because of the choppy sea conditions, the boat was still rocking a fair amount, but I felt considerably better. Later in the afternoon, we took the dinghy to the shore. The dock on the island was mossy and extremely slick, and I ended up falling into the water and getting completely soaked. Luckily I wasn't hurt, and the adrenaline rush that I got from the ordeal actually made me feel even better.

The island was quite deserted: the only inhabitants of the island were two people who were stationed there, two dogs, and a bunch of terns that nested in the rocks.

After tramping around the island for a couple hours, I felt back to normal and quite happy. There was definitely a 5-point swing in my happy-o-meter in the span of a couple hours -- something like going from a 3.8 to 8.8. B+!

I'll post some pictures of the island later. It's a national protected reserve, and we had to get special permission to visit it. It's actually kind of barren and empty, and Robert said he'd be happy to forget it. To me though, it was Salvation Island, an oasis of paradise!

Back on the boat, I put on a Scopalmine patch to help with the seasickness. I had used one on our trip from Sines to Madeira, but had decided to try going without one for this trip, in an attempt to adjust "naturally" to the sea. Forget that -- I'm sticking to the patches from now on!

We're staying the night here to rest and recover, and we'll continue our journey to Canarias tomorrow morning.

If SEA = HOME

2005-10-02T13:00:00.000-07:00

then SEASICKNESS = HOMESICKNESS.

Ugh, so seasick. [Spew of self-pity, self-doubt, other dark thoughts omitted here...]

Last week, Robert told me of a saying that in the first twenty-four hours of seasickness, you feel like you're going to die; after seventy-two hours of being seasick, you wish you would die. In hour twenty-eight of my own seasickness, I just wanted to kill whoever made up that quote, since that was all I could think about.

We left Madeira and said farewell to Chris at 9 AM on Saturday. I then spent almost all of the next twenty-eight hours in my cabin. Lying down, I didn't feel so bad, in fact pretty decent at times. Sometimes I felt good to the point where I would get up, thinking I was okay to do a shift, only to feel nauseous again, contribute a little more to the bucket by my bed, and lie back down.

I stopped eating because anything I ate just ended up coming back up (lots of ramen, a couple Tuc crackers). I also stopped drinking anything, because I didn't want to have to use the head, which would require me to get up and go to the bow. So I just lay quietly in my dark cabin and thought and slept and thought some more... I might have whimpered a few times too :)

Also, I felt really guilty and sorry for Robert, who had to sail through the entire night on his own.

Ugh. Seriously, ugh.

Madeira

2005-09-29T13:21:00.000-07:00

I've been on land for almost a week now. Being on land is so nice and comfortable and... stable. The turbulence of last week seems so far away, and I'm starting to forget that I'm on a sailing trip. Well, except that I still go to sleep on a boat every night -- that helps to remind me :)

We're docked in a marina on the east side of Madeira, close to the city of Caniçal. We rented a car with Chris and Marinette to explore the island, and I'm sharing the driving responsibility with Chris.

On Monday we drove around the center of the island. We went all the way to the top of Pico do Arieiro, and then visited a few cities on the northern coast.

I'm doing most of the driving -- everyone is surprisingly okay with that -- and me re-learning how to drive stick-shift was an adventure of its own. I was quite panicky at first, but everyone else seemed unfazed. Actually, in retrospect I think they were just being polite, or maybe they were too scared to complain.

Some highlights: stalling repeatedly on the narrow pier, with a wall on one side, a ten-foot drop to the ocean on the other, and construction workers and a bulldozer at work in the middle; driving up and down and up and down and up... and down; LOTS of shifting between first and second gear; swerving to avoid a truck that was barrelling down the 1.5-lane switchbacks; thinking how ironic it would be if my driving made a bunch of experienced sailors get carsick. But everything turned out fine -- not one casualty! -- and at the end of the day, Marinette rewarded my driving with a lollipop :)

Here's a picture of our little-Renault-that-could:

Tuesday, we did more of the same, this time exploring the western side of the island.

There's something very nice about driving in the mountains with friends who are speaking to each other in a language you don't understand. I was able to be alone with my thoughts, without actually being alone; so I could ponder and daydream (and watch the road of course!) without being interrupted or feeling any pressure to contribute to the opaque conversation going on around me. But whenever there was a sight to be seen, there were people to share it with.

Some sights that we saw:

The fruit on Madeira is fantastic. There were lots of fruit stands along the road, and some areas where we just stopped the car and picked some for ourselves:

A few animals on the island:

On Wednesday, we visited the botanical garden in the morning. Later in the day, Marinette had to catch a flight back to Belgium, so Chris took her to the airport. Robert and I were dropped off in Funchal, the busy downtown of the island, where I had McDonalds for the first time in weeks. The Big Mac meal was deliciously familiar!

Pictures from the botanical garden:

Today we're in Funchal again, where they've got free WiFi in the streets. Our plan is to spend tomorrow checking the boat and making small repairs, and then to depart on Saturday for the Canary islands, stopping at the Salvagem Islands along the way.

Arrived in Madeira

2005-09-25T19:56:00.000-07:00

32º44.474' N
16º42.679' W

Mission: Internet

2005-09-25T12:44:00.000-07:00

This morning, we decided to take the dinghy from our boat to the marina so that we could visit an internet cafe in the city before we make the short afternoon sail to Madeira. But just as we passed the breakwater, the motor on the dinghy died, and we started drifting out into the ocean. We managed to use the dinghy's single paddle (the other was lost some time ago) and our hands to pull ourselves against the wall.

We climbed up the slippery breakwater and walked along it to get to Chris' boat to get a long rope to drag the dinghy to his boat. Later, he will tow it and bring us back to our boat. In the meantime, we are at the internet cafe -- a successful mission!

The adventure never stops :)

Porto Santo

2005-09-24T20:00:00.000-07:00

33º03.482' N
16º19.234' W

We made it!!! However, we had one more thrill before it was over. As we were docking in the Porto Santo marina, the tiller broke, so we had to back out of the marina very carefully and anchor in the harbor. Later in the morning, we replaced the tiller with a backup aluminum tube, and we'll try to get the old tiller re-welded when we get to the main island of Madeira.

The stars last night were phenomenal, so I had no problem staying awake for my shifts. However, it meant that I was thoroughly exhausted when we got here at 8 AM, and I slept soundly for several hours immediately after we set anchor.

Chris and Marinette arrived around noon, and we spent the afternoon hiking around the island.

Some pictures of Porto Santo:

Duct tape

2005-09-23T20:07:00.000-07:00

33º41.932' N
15º33.312' W

I discovered today that the boat is held together mostly by duct tape:

Eat. Sleep. Sail.

2005-09-22T20:35:00.000-07:00

35º07.191' N
13º52.411' W

Because there are just two of us on the boat, we only get to rest two or three hours at a time while the other keeps watch. Last night's graveyard shift was quite demanding. The ship has three autopilots, none of which could be used last night for different reasons:

1) The main autopilot consumes a lot of electricity and the ship's batteries are old and on the fritz, so we only use it when the solar panels are actively charging the batteries (i.e. not at night)
2) The light-weight backup autopilot, which uses much less electricity, was not functioning properly
3) The wind autopilot couldn't be used because the wind kept changing

As a result, we had to steer by hand during our shifts, which meant we couldn't just sit in the nice warm cabin and keep an eye out for ships. Also, in order to conserve the charge in our problematic batteries, we left our mast lights off and only turned them on when we saw another boat's lights -- a dangerous thing to do, but we didn't have much choice. In spite of all the stress and cold, I still managed to fall asleep on my watch a few times...

Thankfully, we fixed the light-weight autopilot today (with duct tape), and after that, I've actually had a lot of free time to just sit and watch the ocean or catch up on reading.

"...makes me want to vomit"

2005-09-21T16:30:00.000-07:00

37º32.153' N
9º22.245' W

Later last night, as I was doing the watch from 4 AM to 7 AM, I started feeling nauseous again. It was brought on by the strong wind and five-foot swells in the ocean. I didn't throw up, but as each wave relentlessly hit the boat, I scowled at it and silently yelled, "[Expletive] you, wave!" It actually helped a little.

I found out from yesterday's experiences that being tired, cold, or hungry can bring on or exacerbate a bout of seasickness. After learning this and actively taking measures against any of those three conditions, I have been doing quite well. I even went up to the bow and helped put on the gennaker today, which is a large triangular sail, set on a spar and used to increase speed in light winds.

It's a pretty sail:

"If you have to spew..."

2005-09-20T19:15:00.000-07:00

37º32.153' N
9º22.245' W

Ugh, I just threw up last night's dinner. So all of you who predicted that I'd get seasick... you were right. However, throwing up made me feel much better, and I was pleasantly surprised that the ratatouille tasted just as good the second time. So there!

Petrushka

2005-09-19T23:30:00.000-07:00

Just finished having dinner aboard the boat of Christian and Marinette, who are friends and compatriots of Robert. They cooked a delicious dinner of ratatouille for us.

Below are a couple pictures of their boat Petrushka, which is a ketch, similar to a cutter but with a second mast near the stern:

They are also travelling to Madeira, and we will be trying to keep radio contact with them along the way.

Sines

2005-09-19T19:55:00.000-07:00

Birthplace of Vasco de Gama. We are en route to Madeira, and are just stopping in Sines for the night.

37°57.048' N
8°51.980' W

A few more pictures from Lisbon:

Sines:

Disconnect

2005-09-17T12:33:00.000-07:00

Still in Lisbon -- we set sail for Madeira on Monday. In the meantime, I've been spending my days wandering around various sections of the city.

Last night I went to a dance club by the marina. It was pretty fun, but the only thing worth mentioning is the hot dog I bought from a street vendor afterwards. It came loaded with onions, corn, carrots, lettuce, and tiny potato fries, to which I added mustard and hot sauce. Very tasty, but nowhere near as good as those Pi Sq cream cheese dogs.

We looked at Robert's wireless bill a couple days ago and discovered that the rates for internet access from the boat are much higher than we initially thought, so we're pulling the plug. I'll continue to check mail and post blog entries as I find internet cafes along the way, but don't be surprised if there are long periods of silence in between.

Lisbon

2005-09-14T23:52:00.000-07:00

We are staying in Lisbon until Sunday, which gives me time to adjust both to the jetlag and to living on a boat. I slept a solid ten hours last night, so I think I'm already over the jetlag. And so far I'm fine with living on the boat, but then, we haven't left port yet :)

I accompanied Robert this morning to El Corte Ingles, a shopping market in the middle of the city, to start making a list of what rations we should get. We will go back later this week to buy the food for the crossing -- even though we aren't crossing the Atlantic until late December, once we leave Lisbon there will not be as big of a variety of food or at lower prices anywhere else, so we are stocking up now. I was relieved by the abundance of familiar food on Robert's shopping list; I was a little nervous after eating only bread and water on the boat yesterday.

After the supermarket, I went off on my own and spent the afternoon exploring the city. The climate and vegetation here remind me of southern California - very dry and warm. It got a little bit hot this afternoon, somewhere between 85 and 90 degrees, but all in all a very pleasant day. I didn't feel like doing any sightseeing and was content to just wander around. I ended up walking the length of the wide and shaded Avenida da Liberdade, which ends in the touristy Baixa district, where I was promptly greeted by people offering to sell me hash. I politely declined, of course.

I came back to the boat and spent the afternoon reading, listening to music, and editing photos. Robert went over the various safety and security devices on the boat with me. His girlfriend Anne flew into town at 10 PM, and we had a nice dinner on the pier, which included pate, goat cheese, and port. She is visiting for the next few days and will be leaving on Sunday. We will be celebrating her birthday on Friday. She brought with her a whole bunch of chocolate and candy from Belgium. I like Anne!

That's about it. Nothing too exotic yet, but hopefully some more adventurous entries will be forthcoming soon.

Below are some pictures:

First, some pictures of Errance, as promised.

Dublin from the plane.

Some city in Portugal. I thought it was Lisbon, but then it was another 30 min. before we landed, so it was probably Porto or Alcobaça.

And lastly, the Golden Gate Bridge! Er, rather, it's the Ponte 25 de Abril in Lisbon, which is actually modeled after the Golden Gate Bridge. It looks sort of like San Fran, doesn't it? Well, ignoring the giant statue of Jesus on the other side...

That's all I have for now. Uploading pics on a cellphone is s-l-o-w (and possibly expensive), so I might have to wait until I get to an internet cafe to upload more.

Errance

2005-09-13T22:19:00.000-07:00

Errance is the name of the sailing vessel that I will be traveling in for the next few months. It was custom-built in 1996 by Sinek Yachts, located in Graham, WA (!) and it is one of two replicas of a 1970s model called the "Antarctica;" it was special-requested and purchased by a fellow who wanted to sail to Antarctica. It is 44-foot long, and is a cutter, which means that it has a single mast with rigging for a main, a jib, and a genoa sail. Because of its intended destination, it has an aluminum hull (heavier and stronger than fiberglass), and all the parts were built a little larger than normal to handle the extreme conditions (e.g. the shrouds are 1 or 2 mm thicker than typical).

The hull of the boat is an unpainted gray, and the off-white deck is covered with an assortment of gear, including a small inflatable motor boat and 5 solar panels. Since the boat was built in America, its circuitry is all 110V and can't be directly charged by the 220V outlets in the European marinas, but the solar panels are actually sufficient to keep the boat's two batteries charged.

The main cabin of the boat is split cross-wise between the kitchen and a large dining area. Along the port side is all of the electronic equipment -- radar, GPS, laptop, CD player, etc.. The head is near the bow of the boat, and there is a full shower next to it. There is no desalinator on board, but the boat has two water tanks that hold a combined 300 gallons of water. There are two sleeping quarters on the boat, one at the bow, and one at the stern. I am staying in the one in the stern, which is much calmer than the bow.

The original name of the boat was "Voyou," which means "hoodlum" in French. According to Robert, the original owner was something of a hoodlum as well, and Robert re-christened the boat to its current name when he purchased it in 1999. The first owner did sail to Antarctica in this boat as well as many other places in South America. It was in Chile that he and Robert met. The Errance has since been all around the Atlantic Ocean, up and down the east coast of America, all around Europe, as far north as Spitzberg, and as far south as Trinidad.

The destinations for Errance in the near future include: Madeira, Canary Islands, Mauritania, Senegal, Cabo Verde, Brazil, Argentina, and possibly Antarctica. Robert plans to be in Argentina by next May and will evaluate whether or not he wants to take on Antarctica in the fall.

I will put some pictures of Errance up soon.

I'm aboard

2005-09-13T14:38:00.000-07:00

38°42.078' N
9°10.121' W

I need a nap.

Dublin

2005-09-13T06:48:00.000-07:00

Sitting in the Dublin airport (with WiFi), waiting for my next and final flight to Lisbon. I landed here at 5:30 AM, so it was too dark to see anything when I got in, but it's getting light out now, so hopefully I can see some of the Irish countryside when I leave. The main terminal of the airport was a madhouse, which was quite surprising for the crack of dawn on a Tuesday morning. Unfortunately, there weren't any pubs open, so I didn't get to drink my Guinness here. The chocolate croissaint and hot chocolate were quite tasty though.

Last day

2005-09-09T14:36:00.000-07:00

Today is my last day at MSFT.