Tag: boatyard
Disentanglement

Disentanglement

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Every Tuesday I connect with the kind and fun bunch of Rebel Writers. They meet face to face in a secret location in Hong Kong and write. I used to take part in those meetings face-to-face while I was living there. Now I can only connect from afar but I still enjoy to participate. In the end when you become a Rebel Writer, you will be one for the rest of your life.

So every Tuesday I get up on my boat check in with them and start my writing as well. This weekly appointment is what gets me writing no matter what, despite the fact that I am running against the clock to get in the water and get going. Having this sacred, personal moment of messing about with words has a healthy effect on my mind.

During last meeting we decided to video call for a little catch up. Also the daughter of one of the Rebels was present so I thought it was a good idea to give them a tour of my boat. I realized how messy my boat really was as soon as this idea left my brain, it converted in vibrating air captured by my microphone and was sent all the way to Hong Kong. All I could do was to justify myself adding that I am tearing apart close to 30% of the total internal space of the boat and that I was living in a construction site. Which of course is true and normal these days.

Despite the clarification I felt a rush of shame pervading my body and I tried pathetically to limit the visual of messiness through camerawork, with little success. Not even a square foot of the boat was tidy. I consider myself lucky I don’t suffer from the paralyzing, debilitating type of shame that would shut you down and make you stutter and say stupid things. I still held face and walked them through my messy yet very interesting boat.

The sensation of shame continued after the video call as my eyes were contemplating the explosion of boat parts and tools around me. I have been in this condition for a couple of months now, but even if I am used to my mess sometimes it exceeds my own tolerance.

The previous day I worked on my water tank in the v-berth, then rushed onto the boat to prepare the dough and toppings for our Monday pizza night at the boatyard, then worked a little more while the dough was raising, to again rush and pick everything up and carry it to the breezeway on the other end of the boatyard. When I came back it was dark already and with a full belly and first signs of a carb crash I went quickly to bed. The next morning I woke up to the mess of cooking and working and everything else.

In this particular phase of working there is no place onboard that stays the same. Things keep moving and shuffle around from one surface to the other. This happens even if the majority of my belonging are stuffed under the boat in the squatter camp, a sprawling of boat parts and materials that allows for great boatwork and creations and that also has a post-apocalyptic aesthetic, so appropriate during current times.

I am fortunate I got to be in a very private corner of the boatyard so my mess is hidden. Tranquility is parked stern to the edge of the property, against a fence with climbing vines and tall trees. My port windows face the North River and I can observe the marsh and boats at anchor from where I sit at my table. My only neighbor in a radius of 80ft (25 meters ) is Bill, who is a long time friend, solo sailor, inventor and “connazionale” (he is American and he also holds an Italian passport). He tolerates my mess and contributes with his own, although I have to say I am undefeated to this day.

For a coincidence of life I am right under the tree where four years ago Beta was spotted the last time before he decided to take a two week vacation from the boat. This tree dumps leaves, branches and staining berries onto my deck and used to block the sun from reaching my solar panel, but I still love it. It harbors a quantity of animals and insects that are my companions during my work days.

The boatyard is encased in maritime forest and it opens on a winding river that leads all the way to the Atlantic Ocean, separating Georgia from Florida. Its magical powers are beyond comprehension and the enchanted forest attracts a community of boaters that end up taking residence in the boatyard.

This special corner in this special county of this special state which is part of this special country is where I prepare my farewell. The Americas, North and South, have been particularly welcoming to me.

The people I met during my travels invited me in their lives with generosity and a sane curiosity for a man with a weird accent. They were able to make me feel important, even when I came empty handed. Here I met new fathers and mothers and brothers and sisters, teachers and peers.

From all the encounters I learned that we have one blood if we are willing to meet eye to eye and heart to heart. I received way more than I gave, and per the rule of life, whatever is left in the account I will pay it forward, wherever I may roam.

It is hard to detach from people that were so friendly and generous to me. I made this vow to follow the tides of life, those bigger than myself forces that right now are pushing me away from this land. I am also sure that the people who love me would be disappointed if I retreated from this call.

I thought it would be easier to leave, just pack the boat and go. But I am not just crossing an ocean for the sake of adventure. I am realigning and dealing with with this surge of mess around me, this puke of threads, stories, connections I need to transform, purge, celebrate and disentangle from. I went deep into this territory, now I am climbing up from the hole I digged, carrying my treasure.

The Ocean is calling, and the Ocean always punish messy people. Even if my mind tolerates mess it comes a moment when clutter becomes a real obstacle, and that moment is when you are underway and your entire world starts moving up and down and back and forth and left and right. A messy boat underway is a recipe for disaster. Curbing my mess is my main job now.

As the tendrils of the spiral of chaos agitate in this magic forest things start to fall into place, messages are exchanged, clarity is achieved. The unnapetizing concoction made out of who I was and who I will be is brewing. As the agents of change are doing their metabolic work I try to keep things under check, put away stuff and tidy up. It looks like a Sysyphean effort, but there is no way around it and the reward is immense.

As Robert Frost put it, “the only certain freedom is in departure”.
Does this sailing thing make sense?

Does this sailing thing make sense?

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It is forty days since departure deadline, and things start to look busy here at the boatyard.

The Covid-19 arrived in the US in full blown mode as it is in the rest of the World. Italy just confirmed that school will be closed till April 15th. They have been closed since February. Friends from Hong Kong tell me that the country is fearing a second bout of infections brought by people coming from abroad. As I am writing the Azores are closed to arriving vessels, as many other countries are denying arrivals to sailors. This concerns me a little since the Azores are my next port of call.

I’ve been dodging this Coronavirus since my departure from HK in February. Then I got out of Italy just in time before the great lockdown. Now it has finally caught up on me, even if in this dire scenario my life changed very little. I noticed that by talking with friends whose life have radically changed since it has been confined between four walls. For one time I feel my experience to be more similar to other people’s.

Maybe the difference is just that I was already self isolating in an old boat in rural Georgia. My day goes by tending to a small vessel by myself, I move stuff around, build things, repair objects, redesign systems. I consume my meals alone or seldomly with other self isolated sailors. My life changed very little because my plan to upgrade Tranquility and cross the Atlantic is still underway.

The past weeks were key in trying to get everything here, materials, tools and equipment, and I am still planning ahead and guess what I exactly need in case distribution grinds to a halt, a remote possibility to be frank but I prefer not to take chances. Now I am finally putting things together slowly and painfully as usual, trying to cram together way too many projects.

It is a process I know well since it is the fourth time I take apart and put together this boat in order to make her better. The first time was when Kate and I bought Tranquility as an unfinished restoration project in Fairhaven, MA. The second time in the marshes of Glynn where we performed the heaviest rebuilding. The third one in Panama where it became clear that this crazy project was becoming mine only as I could not stop messing around with this boat despite my failing marriage. Maybe because of my failing marriage I found solace in even more boat projects. It is hard to tell which. The current refit is getting bigger than expected, which is not a surprise as my imagination often gets wild when it comes to boat improvements.

This thing called sailing

After ten years of this sailing life spent repairing boats and sailing them I still struggle to explain to others what is this thing I am doing. My family has still not gotten used to it either, in fact they met this whole idea of an Atlantic crossing on a small boat with skepticism, worry and even anger.

What is this thing I am doing?

I feel I am moving between an obsession that forces me to isolation and a blissful existence in Nature that for one time help me stay away from the danger of human contact. It makes financially no sense as the money poured into my old boat will never come back and it keeps me away from employment for long bits. It is not a socially relevant quest as it involves mainly myself and I. It adds very little to the progress of human knowledge as sailing is an obsolete technology. All these sound like red alerts and yet I can’t keep away confronting this questionable choice.

To be honest I am not completely alone. Bill my neighbor is doing exactly the same thing. He is also fixing his boat all over again, to take it across an ocean once again. The same is true for some people I have met of that I am aware of. We are a small number but we tenaciously stick to this nonsense.The comfort of knowing that others are engaged in a similar pattern is not enough and questions keep showing up.

Even if I can’t understand what this is, I know where it comes from.

It comes from visions inside my head, daydreams which I am not fully responsible for that clog my judgement and hijack the focus on building a socially respectable life. Those are visions that taken literally would drive you to madness but if harnessed with caution can propel you to great achievements. Or at least this is my hope.

The technical finesse behind the discipline of sailing is a never ending climbing route to perfecting many skills. It is so incredibly vast involving knowledge that span through so many departments that an expert sailor becomes close to be a master-of-all-trades. I like this idea.

Sailing takes you in the heart of the present moment, as you insert yourself in the ever changing reality of water and air, the breathing apparatus of planet Earth. This experience reminds me that I grew out of it and I am equipped to find my way between wind, waves and currents. I can say that I have the biggest home there is.

It can be done. Necessary knowledge can be acquired, discomfort and fatigue are a just transitory moments and we as humans can adapt and thrive in many situations. These experience are good tests to take and help building personal resilience. Resilience and resourcefulness is becoming so important in the current world where reality changes at a very fast pace and we are often not prepared for what comes next.

Despite the isolation from common human experience and the difficulties of this life I take great pleasure and pride in what I am doing. The effort of writing and documenting my experience are an attempt to fill this communication gap. So maybe for one time my family or friends will tell me: ”I understand what you are doing and I am proud of you”.

In the meanwhile I look for other signs that tell me I am on the right route. I think I found one in the irony of sailing. Contradiction and Paradox are the essence of life and the ironies of sailing, one of the most expensive way to feel uncomfortable and risk your life, expose its nonsensical nature.

If years ago sailing was the only way to move people and goods across long distances, today sailing loses its meaning and role. Is sailing a sport or a hobby? Is it both? If so, why all this discomfort and even danger? Despite these drawbacks sailing did not disappear in history because it still has a lot to say about us as human beings. There is a community of people involved in this nonsense, so there must be a little sense after all.

And if all this fails to provide sense, I will stick with Good Old Gandhi, who seemed to have learned quite few things about life and humans beings:

Whatever you do will be insignificant, but it is very important that you do it.” ― Mahatma Gandhi

This is the end

This is the end

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This is the end of the yard period. At least it is what we hope as the deadline has moved forward, we are getting closer but we never reach it. I am overly cautious on the date of the splash, a day that would say the word end to the dry period to move into the wet and cold one. The moment when we will see if we float or sink.

Experience tells me there are always bad surprises on the go but I also see signs that tell me it is happening.

First reason we have no alternatives. Everything is set for leaving, winter is coming and South is our course. We are cutting all the lines that hold us fast to the New England area. There is no plan B.

Second reason Kate came back to disciplinate my chaotic work. Working for one month by myself was hard indeed and the return of the best worker I have ever had it’s a great improvement. I did a great amount of work by myself but the presence of a co-owner, co-designer and co-worker it’s adding a whole 100% to the project, and it’s also giving me a huge relief from stress.

Third one, there is no money left so we have to do with what we have, and this also mean finishing and closing projects. Ther will be a time for improvements and enhancements. The wish list is not closed, we have tons of ideas and parts we want to improve and this will keep us busy for the next part of the project.

I am probably writing this post as a motivation exercise, a way to whip up my tired self and conclude this first chapter of the boat project. Everything obviosusly got delayed, expenses grew out of control and mistakes bloomed over time. We could have done better, cheaper and faster. Well maybe next time, if there will a next time. For now, it is what it is.

Life at the boatyard

Life at the boatyard

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Time has many meanings and occurrences. This August has been particularly dense for me. My birthday has just passed with a fair amount of celebrations stolen to the boat project. Soon to come 2 years anniversary for me and Kate. And of course  the third month of boatyard with Tranquility, hopefully the last one. In this 40 seconds video you have a glimpse on how is life at the boat yard.

 

Tranquility is coming back together. The exciting part of the refit is happening with big projects, expensive but necessary.

Rigging

The replacement of the standing rigging is ongoing. Tranquility is a sailing boat and her means of propulsion (aka sails) depends on the integrity of the rigging. We found some of the 1×19 stainless wires and fitting stranded or cracked, and we don’t know how old is the rigging anyway, so we seek the advice of a local rigger recommended to us by the owner of Fairhaven Shipyard.

Sails

After some uncertainity about taking sail measurements without old sails and with the rig down we finally place an order for new sails coming from China. We chose Lee Sails following the recommendation of a friend, but also very attracted by the price.  The full battened, 2 reefed mainsail has been ordered along with the roller furling yankee jib and the staysail. A couple of more sails will be added in the inventory from the used market, even if nothing seems to emerge from internet or consignement centers.

 

Engine repowering

Repowering our electric engine it means new battery bank. We are looking for a 200 ah solution with four 12v AGMs. We are visiting a big distributor in our area to have OEM prices and hoping for some scratched battery that sells for less.

The rest is stuff, some of it helpful and important some of it unnecessary and fancy. We hope to keep a good balance and a frugal attitude while we move forward in designing our boat and our home. It’s not so easy.

Paint problems or "How to figure things out"

Paint problems or "How to figure things out"

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The first days have been so hard as the project looked so overwhelming. Oh my God we have to do everything! Anytime I started a job and I posed my sight on a different corner of the boat I saw an umpteenth job to do and then another one and I felt I was going crazy. Actually I did go crazy. Luckily Kate intervened to keep me focused on doing one thing at a time and to avoid compulsive shopping.

tranquillity8

In four days of full time work we accomplished several tasks but most important we found a method. It took one fight and some snipping, we also hit dead ends or wandered around the boat (not that much walking though!). Not that now everything is under control, we learned to move slow but with a constant pace. For both of us it’s the first renovation process and learning requires time.

tranquillity6

Another important factor is alliance. In 4 days we were so lucky to have good people around. From John and Sue who not only welcomed us in their home but also wired us up to the most useful connections around, last but not least a young couple of fairhaveners who owns a boat. It sounds like we have new friends. Their boat is much more ready than ours and that means we may be able to go sailing soon with Freddie and Heather!

Columbia 29

The biggest hassle at the moment is painting the boat and which paint to use. There are different brands (Awlgrip, Interlux, Imron, etc.) different types (one or two part epoxy or polyhuretane) and different prices, including a guy who is selling paint 10$ a gallon of the weirdest colors on earth. It looks like we are not able to make a decision right know and asking the experts only adds confusion as anyone has own different opinions. We could be very close to have the deck and the topside painted, but we miss the paint… It is just a matter of luck I guess. Anytime the situation overwhelmes me I try to focus on the small things I have ahead. There is a lot to do anyway and if we are not ready to make a decision about paint it’s because it’s not the time. Something will emerge. In the meanwhile we just express preferences… out of many possibilities.

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