Pirates, and we´re not even in the Carribean

When I was little I always wanted to be a pirate and go around commandeering tea and cake... I wish all pirates were that cool...

So we (Three saffas, an Aussie, and the infamous bear) spent a whole month bobbing up and down in the Atlantic on our trusty vessel Nereid. We stopped only twice  to sample some local beer and stretch our lazy bodies and lick things...

Teddy doing the spread eagle stretch

Sailing into Ascension

We sailed through Halloween and Diwali and birthdays (sorry if I missed yours) and who knows what else we missed out on in the real world, but the simplicity of life at sea is amazing in itself!

I finally became diligent and scheduled daily writing time into the not-so-strenuous life at sea. After all, I vowed that by the end of this trip I would have my first book!

Temperatures remained freezing , and for weeks we saw nothing - no sunrise, no sunsets, no marine life, not even a ship until 4 weeks in when the dolphins swarmed to greet us and we found the sun and rainbows and stars and  the water colour turned deep purple and all you could do all day is be mesmerised!

 

After 4 weeks of trying day in and day out, we finally caught our first fish (excluding the flying fish that suicided on our decks) - a whopper of a dorado!

Sadly this is the only picture I have left of our fish....

And then finally we saw real land again - South America came into view - another ocean crossing - a new continent - a new country.

After 3 years of work, I finally finished my book and couldn't stop smiling - all I needed was to reformat it and pick up a few smidgens of info on some of the characters - but it was done!!

We watched the waters turn bright turquoise and a most phenomenal sunset before we tried to navigate the lights through to the Anchorage area that Port Control had instructed us to go to and eventually - 4455 miles, 620.25 hours of sailing later - we finally dropped anchor and cracked open our last 5 beers!

We feasted on fish and tuned into some Brazilian music and finally all collapsed - excited to be going ashore to lick the land in the morning.

Around about 1 am, I woke up with Di yelling  ¨what do you want from us?¨ - I thought I was dreaming, but then she screamed it again. Then there were Portuguese voices. I lay still trying to work out what was going on. ¨just put it down - take what you want ok¨ - said Simon.

There was scurrying about all over the  place and my heart started racing - what do I do??? I couldn't see into the salon and had no idea how many people were on board and what they were planning to do. I heard things being ripped apart and lugged across the deck. I heard Di and Simon trying to stay calm and eventually heard David's voice too.

I wanted so badly to be with the others - There is something about being with people that makes you feel a bit calmer - but they still hadn't seen me and maybe I could do something.... I prayed and prayed and prayed and mentally ran through everything in my cabin - what could I possibly use as a weapon?? Could I squeeze through the porthole and use the element of surprise?

Simon and David had been tied up with Di sitting between them. The four Brazilians had a spear gun and a knife and a revolver pointed at their heads. The pirates ripped their jewellery off and almost cut Di's finger off to get her wedding band. They went through cupboard after cupboard taking any and everything they liked - computers, phones, cameras, our sat nav, our GPS, our chart plotter, the outboard engine for our dingy...

I tried to work out how many of them there were - 2? 4? 29? I wished I could see what was going on!! Boat noise is so hard  to make out - especially in a fiberglass boat.

They opened the fridge and one took a big gulp of my soy milk before he spat it out all over the place - they opened up our biscuits and started feasting - they took with them a new wardrobe of David's clothes and made themselves quite at home. They apparently kept on picking Teddy up and putting him down again - as if they could not decide whether or not to take him with...

Finally they came into my room - they climbed onto my bed - their bodies moved right next to mine. I heard them opening cupboards and rummaging through stuff - I lay dead still. My heart pounding. I'd often joked about being deflowered by a pirate - but the reality of all of this was far too much to handle.

A light finally shone on me and they saw me there huddled in my usual corner. I stayed still. And they mumbled something and then shone it on me again. I felt the room go dark, I still felt the presence in the room - I still didn't move - I prayed and prayed and prayed. I was so sure that there was still someone on my bed. I heard the dingy start up and them start yelling and then more clambering. I had no idea if they had all gone or if they were just doing a drop off...

When I heard my crew talking again I took my first breath of the morning and came out to see what was going on. The boat was a wreck! I found the others on the couch and untied them. Everyone was very shaken, but nobody was injured.

They had ripped up most of our circuit board and disconnected our VHF so we had no way of contacting the outside world. Everything was gone - everything!!! They have the only recent copy of my novel and they even stole my tampons!

We think the pirates thought I was a kid with the bear and my nemo bag and my mask and snorkel and ... I seem to carry a lot of toys... But I suppose I owe Teddy one - if it wasn't for him, things might have been far worse for me!!

After sifting through the piles of garbage we left behind, we found the yacht keys and my iPhone (which was left on deck) and tried to make contact with shore.

It was just after 2 am - but none of us could sleep after that. We sat on the deck with a fire extinguisher and wrench handles and anything we could find for protection until morning broke - waiting prepared - just in case they came back.

In the morning (which took forever to arrive) we finally got through to the police and were moved to a private hotel marina where we should be 100% safe and then started the immigration process. What a welcome to South America!

Forteleza the morning after

I finally licked land hello and got my first Brazilian beer in an effort to make a bad day better!

And here we sit - in Forteleza - trying desperately to get any navigation equipment, or charts, or anything so that we can sail onwards!

We are completely safe in our mooring, but we still do night watch because once your home has been evaded and your safe space been compromised, you cant sleep at night...

But the beer is cheap and the sun is shining and for the most part the Brazilians are a nice breed (its just amazing the things poverty will make people do) and well, things could always be worse...

I just thank God were all okay and hey, them pirates probably did the world a favour by stealing the novel that no one will ever read...

Bad things happen - but with each new day who knows what new GOOD surprises will come your way!

Life's a Journey

They say life’s a journey.

And so far it’s been quite a trip – learning to crawl becomes learning to walk, learning to walk becomes learning to do so without being hit by traffic or roaming elephants or falling off a cliff. You progress and learn how to use a toilet and read and write (assuming of course that by reading this you’re all literate… if anyone actually reads this trash). You progress through school and learn the basics of physics and math and languages and geography and history and art and begin to develop a personality and you learn how to trust and make friends and how to love and hate.

When the foundation’s been set, you learn how to make difficult choices like what and where to study or whether or not to grow up. Some get married straight away and sprout a family, a white picket fence and some llamas. Others start climbing a corporate ladder and some try and produce an empire or become dictators or assassinate [or lick] royals. Some become doctors and lawyers and actuaries and psychiatrists while others become toilet cleaners and Celine Dions and gypsies.    

Last night a friend said to me:

“Can I ask a slightly random question? And slightly existential:

are you searching for something?”

And I had to think about that for a while. What was I searching for…

For those who go through 300 years of med school, have you arrived when you’ve finally graduated? Or is it only when you become specialized? Or is it only when you’ve become the best?

For those who have families, have you arrived on your wedding day? Or at your first house owning? Or at the birth of your first child? Or is it only when they’re potty trained or graduated or sprouting grandchildren?

Do celebrities ever arrive? Or dictators ever conquer enough? Do archeologists only find success in uncovering mammoth ancient ruins? Do cleaners ever get things clean enough? Do travelers ever see enough of the world or endure enough adventures?

Can you ever have enough friends? Earn enough money? Find enough time? Sproot enough offspring? Get enough ticked off your bucket list (http://barefootedgypsy.blogspot.com/2011_01_01_archive.html)? Find enough happiness?

A couple of weeks ago I found myself being potty trained all over again – learning how to use a pump toilet. Then I found myself learning to walk again – it’s a different kind of ground on board a sailboat. I had to learn again how to keep meals down while the boat bounces about on rolling waves and every time I go ashore it begins again because the land seems to constantly shift beneath my feet. I’ve gone from pretend-to-be grown up to an infant in days. 

I’ve thought about it a lot over the years – but last night’s question really made me ponder. I know I’m definitely not just gypsying about to escape real life or run away from responsibilities, but what is it I’m searching for? It’s like I’m chasing something that doesn’t even exist.

This is probably far far and further too deep for a Monday morning in the office/ on the commute/ in a space station/ lazing in bed or on a beach/ wherever you may be… but I really am curious how anyone ever really knows that they’ve arrived? While I’m still frivolously happy plottering about this incredible world – meeting amazing people, seeing incredible beautifulnesses, sampling foreign cuisines, learning new skills and licking foreign artifacts – but where and when does it all end? How do you know it’s time to end one and begin a new chapter?  

Life’s a journey all right, but where does it end?

.... THE END.

The Power of Thumb: And then there was Mum

So once again I’ve accomplished my mission (finally), I’ve done what I set out to do. Trouble and awesomeness have stuck to me like shadows and it’s been quite a ride... But it’s over, it’s almost time for new adventures….

 My shortest distance yet (111 km) took 4 and a half hours and three different rides from Tagong (somewhere Tibetish in China), but that’s okay – I actually had company for a change – one Irishman and a Swiwi (Swiss-Kiwi) - and when in good company, little can go amiss! Apart from your mind that is – especially when you play silly car games. Do you have any idea how frustrating it is trying to think of a song with the word “motorbike” in it? For 2 hours. In aggravated silence.

We flew past crazy icy cliffs and hot springs and waterfalls and all sorts of beautifulnesses with three sets of very non English-speaking Tibetan rides!! The last one was hornless (hooterless) – If you’ve ever been to Asia, you’ll know the horn is the most importantest part of a vehicle. You can ride without wheels or even an engine, but without a hooter, you die. Fortunately we didn’t (because when it’s your time to go, it’s your time to go and apparently it wasn’t ours. Yet.).

I joined forces with an Israeli hitcher from Danba and we lucked out with the lovely people from China Mobile who drove us the last 387 km all the way into Chengdu. Stopping on the way to feed us and shower us with gifts and show us ALL the touristy attractions on the way including a 6500 m mountain and the earth quake zone and far too many comunisty signs and monuments and pandas.

And that was that. 2687 km. 18 rides. 18 Chinese and 9 Western converts to the power of them. And then, after two years apart, there was mum.