Rough Riding the Bluest Oceans

Our pilot boat chugged in at 7 am. Having engine problems and a dodgy outboard has some limitations when reversing out of a dock. Yes, Yoldia was small enough to take for a walk, but we couldn’t walk on water [yet]

Departure was delayed a day [which in the yachty world is technically an early departure]. Supply shopping, fuel top ups and immigration procedures always take longer than expected – and besides; it’s bad luck to leave on a Friday!

Our special services tug boat service courtesy of captain Kirk

It was sad watching Chaguramus fade away in the background as we chugged away at almost 2 knots – not because it’s a great place, but it symbolised the end of three incredible months of cruising the Caribbean and most importantly, 3 months on board Fiddler – a boat that will always be my home – and the world’s best captain! 

Boats sped past us left right and centre as we sailed towards the wind – wherever it was hiding. Along with it we found ‘the blob” which I saw as a whale and The Swede saw as a ginormous ray. And then we caught our first [and only] fish… 

We think it was tuna. We know it tasted great.

I'd braced myself for 2 weeks of hugging the rail and spewing my guts out, but the little 27 foot Albin Vega was the smoothest sailor I’ve come across so far. In fact all my worries were calmed as the wind picked up: sailing without a chart plotter or fancy instruments was great – you have to pay attention to your surroundings all the time instead of electronic representations. And as I got to know the crazy Viking captain, I realised that he was unlikely to keel haul me or sell me into slavery and I thought that was quite nice of him.

Strange sleeping habits of the captain

Strange eating habits of the captain: caviar on everything

While we may have missed many other important events at sea, Saint Patrick's day was celebrated with 18 hours straight of Irish folk music, the painting of ourselves green, and the only alcoholic beverage of the trip

Our gib and home made genoa configuration

 More flying fish suicide themselves on our deck than I have seen in all my former sailing experience combined. Over the full moon I had two nights of sitting on watch being attacked left right and centre: they get in your clothes and your hair and as much as I tried to wack them back to sea with the breadboard, there was no way I could keep up. Weirdly they seemed to settle down as soon as I handed over the watch to the captain.

Someone once told me that if you kiss a flying fish it turns into a prince... Sadly that didn't happen

 The best part of Yoldia, was her toilet - it has the best view in the world! Generally speaking you dont even need toilet paper thanks to the crashing of the waves on the little bow. In rough seas (day 4-8) it's one of the best adrenalin rushes imaginable as you cling on!

Yes, things were great and I think I was quite sad when the captain yelled land ahoy on day 10... I didn't think I was quite ready for it.

Aren't we a lovely crew hey??

The last night bought with it a ton of maintainance (everything on boats seems to break all the time - its half of the joy of sailing) but it also bought with it a plethora of dolphins and a hitch hiking bird that spend most of the night sitting on our tiller.

|On the 25th we finally sailed into Panama and prepared to anchor. After my limited sailing experience being on big boats, the fact that you can lift an anchor (that can secure a boat) so easily was a strange idea

10 days, 1 hour and 58 minutes after departure, I licked land hello.

With no contact while at sea, it was nice to find my ride across the Pacific hadn't left without me

S/V Eagle Dancer - My soon to be circumnavigation completing vessel

 I havent seen or done much since arrival and that I put down to beer being cheap and cleaning out the soggy wet interior of Yoldia being a bigger project than you'd expect!

Thank you Karl for the most excellent journey and for reminding me what sailing is all about - getting really really dirty in an abyss of blue water with only imaginations and creativity and the wind to propel you forward. 

Oh Captain, My Captain

Every captain has a parrot, a wooden leg and an eye patch. Everyone knows that. I learned it when I was 4...

But as I rocked up at my very first sailing boat (Fiddler) back in Kudat (Malaysia) in 2012, I found nothing of the sort... Captain Kirk had 2 real legs.

Captain Kirk

Kirk patiently taught me everything I now know about boats, he taught me to always throw up to lee, he taught me that tomatoes were not to be feared, he taught me how to dive, derust, install pop rivets, use power tools, pretend to be a marine engineer, and most importantly, he instilled in me a luster for sailing.

The Fiddler crew

13060.8 KM later I finally bid the captain, the crew, and Fiddler a very sad farewell - After 5 years of travelling, I thought it was time to try a real life... 

Just your average work excursion...

I obviously pushed my employees too hard...

The view from my balcony

|Yes, real life was tough!

But then one day, I got a phone call and the ocean beckoned me back and I found myself sailing on a new boat with a new captain. 

Captain David

David surprised me, he had no parrot or eye patch, and I arrived just too late to witness the shearing of his beard... but he had life sorted out - he proudly wore his "I wish I was a South African" shirt everywhere he went and hopefully still does back in Australia.

Nereid crew

Together we overcame terrible weather and pirates and 4am mampoer and even though we set sail for the Meditaranean; we washed up in the Caribbean... right next to Fiddler.

Life is weird like that.

After staunch negotiations; Captain Kirk bought me back from Captain David for a box of cookies (apparently my net worth) and for the last three months we faced the hardships of cruising the Caribbean

Life was great.

Fantastic even.

And then quite suddenly, out of the deep blue, things changed... A prospective job offer materialised despite me rocking up barefoot and mangled after a 2 hour hitch hike... and I met my new to be captain; Eagle.

He's a very very interesting man on a 5 year trip around the world. I have yet to meet the rest of the crew or the boat (they are all in Panama); but I have a good feeling about this!

So it's going to be a tight squeeze making it to the canal in time for the crossing, but flights should be avoided at all costs which is why I made a mission out of finding a boat from here (Trinidad) to Panama

And I did, I met Swedish Karl

And first thing in the morning I set sail on his beautiful 27 foot Albin Vega heading straight to Panama. I hope I don't need the toilet on the way because there isn't one.

It's flipping scary having life plans again; but adventure beckons and I can't wait to see where I wash up.

This evening has been a bit of a sad one, saying goodbye and handing things over is never fun, although I must admit that I did enjoy handing over my official Fiddler to do list

As you can see, Katrin was thrilled to be taking over responsibilities

So maybe all captains are different, but I want to say that as far as I know (from my experience at least) any good captain has a big heart, an even bigger lust for adventure burning violently within, and a great sense of humour!

Thank you so so very muchly captains of old!

And new captains, I look forward to all the adventures that lie ahead!

New crew, new countries, and a shower

(Petite Piton, Saint Lucia)

After putting it off for four or fourteen or maybe even a few more days than that; I'm proud to announce I've finally had a shower... I think the whole of the Caribbean and all the countries downwind of us are rejoicing...

With the fresh comes the new. Yes, clean sheets, maybe even a clean t- shirt...yes, I'm going all out on this one! And that's not even getting started on the new crew and new countriness of the present...

(Mayreau, Saint Vincent and the Grenadines)

Let me drift back to two weeks ago... [swishy drifting back to the past noises] Fiddler adopted 3 new vegetarian newbees into her floating ranks... 

There's katrin, a German biologist who was rather surprised to find saurkraut in the fridge (so were we... I really ought to clean it out some day). She swears she doesn't own lederhosen but I don't believe a word of it. 

Then there's the Bulgarians whose staple diet is bread and oil (slightly more of the latter) They don't believe in sleeping indoors or flying or the evilness of cockroaches. Their favouritest pass times are doing dishes, hitch hiking and repacking their backpacks.  In that order.

(In this picture we are trying to introduce Terry and Ivan to new food groups, like instant noodles)

Including Captain Kirk and Teddy and myself (Ewa's gone home to get a new passport), fiddler has the biggest and most diverse crew ever [in my existence of being aboad]... But still no drinking buddies. Sigh.

So fiddler probably spent too much time in Saint Lucia. When we finally set sail for the grenadines, the propeller clung to the mooring ball so tight that we ended up taking it with us. Fortunately the marine park ranger was nice enough to let us off in exchange for my hand in marriage.

Saint Vincent and the Grenadines were beautifully blue, scattered with smiley friendly locals and lickable turtles and iguanas and many a kayak and dive and snorkel and hike... It was so amazing that even fiddler lifted her own anchor and went exploring on her own (fortunately we returned just before she hit the cliffs)

(Mayreau)

(Tabago cays)

(Bequai)

It was sad to say goodbye this morning, but it had to be done. We had Greneda to visit and a carnival in Trinidad to make... Fiddler disagreed again and clung to the soil relentlessly until finally the anchor pulled free bringing up a bucket.

I'm particularly excited about Grenada and have reason to be too. When the captain checked us in this morning, he told the tourism department that I was the one who needed convincing on the duration of our stay. So, after meeting half of Denmark on the boat next door, playing dinghy taxi to some stranded Germans, helping a South African load his boat, and discussing the benefits of being a dutchie with a Netherlandish skipper, I finally made it ashore... The tourism department cornered me immediately. After teaching me the local bum wiggle, they took me through their hit charts, pictures, videos and excessively low crime statistics in a ploy to convince me to pick their carnival over Trinidad's...

(Tourism carriacou: Rita and Amy)

I've yet to see or do anything here (because every time I turn around there's someone new to talk to) but this place has something awesome about it. Something new. And [swishing noises as we drift back to the present] like I was saying, new is good.

It's easy to play life safe and be content in our comfort zones, but life's too short for mediocrity... And we should constantly be pushing for new levels of epicness. And even though its hard to say goodbye to the old, and the new is normally daunting, you never know what crazy adventure is just around the next bend.

(This arrived out of nowhere... The Caribbean isn't always a pretty place)

I have yet to decide which carnival we should attend... I have yet to decide what happens after Trinidad, whenever it is we get there (South Africa? Pacific? Bahamas? South America? ... The list goes on... a lot) I have yet to decide what I'm actually trying to accomplish in life... But that's okay - whatever happens will be awesome and exciting and new.

New is good. (Or at least I think it is)