I have been a bit absent on this channel. My last post was a farewell to the continent that gave me so much for almost 10 years and then silence.
I want to confirm that I am alive and well, I just have been adapting to a new environment and a new life, and sailing got sidetracked.
I worked a lot on my other website Psychology of Sailing (any feedback on the work done is more than welcome) and left this blog unattended.
Changing worlds and life has become a familiar feeling. Coming and going, living in new territories, cultures, climates, languages. It’s now part of my DNA. It is however not simple.
It was Venezuela, Curaçao, Panama, USA, Hong Kong.
Now it’s Tenerife.
It took 42 days, more than 3800 nautical miles, 20 books and several movies to get here. The route took me from St.Marys in Georgia where Tranquility got awaken from her peaceful slumber to Faial in the Azores, where I spent my birthday and rested a couple more days, and then Tenerife.
Of those 42 days I have vague memories already. I can say that I miss those days very much. I missed being down below and coming out on deck at regular intervals, during the day and at night, and see just the ocean, adapting to rhythms that very rarely were in accord with my desires, to the point that what I desired was irrelevant.
Being by myself on a 55 years old sailboat in the middle of the Atlantic was something I have never envision for myself in my youth. Yet probably the most pure of sensations I felt since I am alive.
Now that I am landlubbing again the sensation is receding back into my memory with just few glimpses taking me back to that time.
I can say that it all ended when I spotted the high rise island from afar.
It was early morning, timing could not have been more favorable. When you sail a slow boat for multiple day passage it is basically impossible to know at what time you are going to make landfall.
A clear, sunny and windy day welcomed me to the island.
The arrival at Club Nautico Puertito de Guimar was a little concerning.
I had turned around the NE tip of the Island giving enough room for currents and wind effect. After gybing a fresh breeze was pushing me towards my destination, so I was cheerful yet worried about docking in strong breeze by myself.
As I was getting closer the wind increased and soon the fresh breeze became strong with gusts well above 30kts I put the third reef in and furled the jib.
Elliott, who guided me via text messages throughout the crossing, had warned me of strong wind conditions at my arrival but I was caught by surprise as winds had always been mild throughout the crossing. I forgot how strong winds looked like.
Docking the boat solo after 8 days from Faial went well despite the tough conditions. My girlfriend organized a surprise inviting my parents over for the welcome back to land. I spent the firsts days on the island as the perfect tourist, driving around the gorgeous island, enjoying the perfect climate and a breathtaking landscape.
Now that I am seriously tied back to land I look back at the pages that I wrote during the crossing as a soothing reading. The desire for many more days in the ocean never left me, it has just been put on pause.
I though to share here those lines that I collected on a rocking boat in the long hours spent down below in the cabin.
Among the many beautiful and unexpected gifts of 2020, this solo crossing what what is giving the courage to tackle many other daring ideas and projects.
I hope you are going to enjoy the report from this experience which I am going to publish in digestible bites in the following days.
I also hope you don’t mind reading a brief poem I wrote not long ago, thinking about this nomadic life, made of so many farewells and welcome parties (and I also hope you don’t mind a couple of swear words )
Dream stitching
A soft crash on an alien planet
I repeat the experience
Foreigner, newcomer, beginner
Looking for a warm embrace
Scattered around the globe
My soul leaves crumbles
They become flowers
That are calling me back
Longing
You bastard feeling
Wherever I lay
You chase me
Nostalgia
You cunt
I love you so much
My good old friend
Afloat in darkness
My breath moves on
Touching pale light
With nowhere to go
Way overtime, overbudget and over any attempt in predicting, controlling and scheduling boatwork Tranquility and I finally hit the water.
We dance with the natural change of the tides and the winds in a quasi stationary equilibrium tethered to the muddy bottom of the North River. Here we are merging again, as she is back doing what she was designed for and I reunite with the familiar feeling that I had not experienced since Hong Kong: The sensation of resting on the surface of water supported by the Archimede’s principle is engraved in my vestibular system as for the most part of the last 11 years I lived on floating objects.
Tranquility is not just my home, my mean of transportation and my survival pod, she is an extension of myself through which I explore the cosmos, and now that we are back in our element the senses are enhanced.
Since floating in the river dreaming activity surged together with levels of relaxation that I have not felt for months. Tranquility rig are the strings that capture atmospheric variations, the hull a sound box that amplifies the waves of the liquid environment. Her shell enhances my connection with the environment: enough to be dry and comfortable but inadequate to mask environmental changes around me.
The preparation to voyage has officially ended. As other times before I pushed the bar a little over my actual capacities, tried some weird experiments and dealt with the consequences. I take all this as a game. It is serious playing because financial risks and potential danger are part of it, but my inner child would not let me play safe or lower the bar. I like to keep learning so I push a bit over the comfort zone.
Andy, a very generous solo sailor and pizza tinkerer here at the boatyard, allowed me to use his dinghy to move back and forth to the shipyard for the last showers, laundry, errands and farewells. Rowing to get ashore is a degree of separation that helps detach from land life.
In few hours I will bring onboard the line that ties me to the muddy bottom, brave few shoals and turns for roughly three miles before I enter the St Marys river. There the outgoing tide and the favorable SW winds should push me effortless East through the inlet and out in the Atlantic Ocean en route to the Azores lying some 2700 nautical miles away.
From the Azores I will point to the island of Tenerife, where a special person has been waiting for too long for me to reunite in that wonderful place. This is the main aim of this voyage, the energy that kept me motivated to overcome the endogenous and exogenous variables I encountered, and for which I am extremely grateful.
There are however other reasons behind this voyage. One is that I am moving my home from America back to Europe. I spent more than a decade in the New World an exploration that put me in touch with new experiences.
I had the fortune to be welcomed wherever I went and be brought into homes regarded as a family member. The level of generosity I experienced is overwhelming and when I tried the exercise of bringing to mind all the people that helped me on this side of the world I felt overwhelmed and tears came up.
In the Americas I encountered the most friendly and generous people, people who never hesitated in making me feel welcomed and at home. For seven wonderful years I also had in Kate a generous, loving and brilliant companion and wife who shepherded me through this unknown continent. Adoptive parents and family, mentors, friends and comrades, they all allowed me to see life through their eyes and opened up their hearts to my presence.
I am not painting an idealized picture of my recent years. There has been incidents, suffering, discomfort and cultural shocks. Positive experiences though outweighed negative ones by far. This continent is still vast and rich and mysterious, full of magical energy, both good and bad, and I bathed in it.
Welcomed by the bald eagle, I am ushered to the door by the vulture. This magnificent bird, so ugly and clumsy on land and so graceful when it glides, is a rare sight in the Old World where I come from. In North and South America different species of vulture are instead very common. I grew accustomed to see them on the side of roads taking care of the business of life, dismembering corpses, removing harmful bacteria and diseases from the environment, and complying with the rules of transformation we all obey to.
I will leave part of my soul to the spirit of this bird for it to be digested into the ethereal connections of my legacy, so the last remaining ties will be severed.
After more than ten years it is time to move on. My rootlessness is taking over supported by the desire for more solo sailing, this uncommon human experience full of discomfort and awe. It will take few days of laziness and uneasiness for my vestibular system to incorporate the sudden changes of direction and acceleration experienced on a vessel that sails offshore and to fall into the routine of the watch system.
The southernmost outpost of Europe is waiting for me. It will be a long journey during which I will be removed from the usual flux of information that connects us all, suspended in the parallel reality of this planet without the chatter of society, to exercise my right and responsibility to awe in this incredibly beautiful universe.
There is a lot going on and around Tranquility, even more in our own lives. The final rush to be ready to leave the dock is undergoing, with printed sections of spreadsheets that follow me everywhere I go. Thankfully Kate is on the organizational side now that she ended her jobs and she is doing an incredible job with boat work and trying to contain my chaos.
Somehow I am failing to report all of this on the blog. It was difficult to sit and focus on the plan and make time to narrate what was happening. For me writing requires finding an empty space in my mind. There was definitely time and energy to do so, but as the boat required more immediate and interconnected actions, my mind was never really at ease. In fact, once the big jobs like structural repairs and painting ended we were left with a huge list of smaller tasks and installation that required full attention. Basically we need to put Tranquility back together.
Every single one of these tasks come with decisions, every decision needs a justification. What we liked when we first set step on Tranquility was that the conditions of the boat gave us a very wide freedom of choice. Paul, the previous owner, had suddenly interrupted the refit of the boat and put her up for sale, leaving her bones exposed and unfinished. We liked her structure and her lines and we dreamed about how we could build the rest by ourselves to make her the best possible fit for us. This is the most alluring side of a boat refit, the idea to customize the boat according to your needs and desires. Three years later I just started to realize how this is a big trap we voluntarily threw ourselves in.
For example, at a certain moment you need to install fans to increase the ventilation ability of the cabin, displace moisture and have some cool air pampering your skin when you try to fall asleep, read a book or when you deal with hot pots on the stove. You also need a product that does the job while using 12v DC power frugally and that won’t cost a fortune. Then you check your wallet and try to decide how much money you are comfortable to put in this department.
The quest then starts, researching as many options as you can, scrolling through products lists and supplier catalogs, reading their description, keeping an eye on the price to easily ditch the ones that exceeds your pockets. The market is flooded with products that claim to be the best, or good enough, or just sit there available for purchase and the temptation is always to maximize the outcome, because “you always deserve the best deal”.
I spent a ton of time reading and researching about 12v fans, the ones that swivel and the ones that don’t, multi or single speed, and so on. When this was not enough I sought the opinion of experts and when finally I was very close to hit the Pay Now button the constant fear of settling for something not optimal made me delay the purchase. I was paralyzed by the fact that there could be something better or the same product for a better price, just few clicks away.
On a list of items necessary for a safe passage at sea fans surely sit at its bottom. So try to imagine how this would go for all the more important items an empty boat needs to be fitted for ocean passages. Luckily that process spread through 3 years of pondering, tests and life changes, but it is now, when everything converge to the final preparation that the sunken costs of decision making emerges from the mist of the past. It’s the bottleneck of opportunities, the crossroad of possibilities. All the indecisions and doubts have to disappear because it’s time to go. Why did I ordered two inches wide nylon webbing instead of one? Why propane leak detectors are so expensive? Where am I going to order those mast winches? When am I finally installing that water maker?
Few years ago I experienced doing boat work and repairs in places of the world where the options were scarce. If I was lucky I could choose between product A and product B, but most of the time I had to go for a single choice, with no alternative on the price. Nonetheless the work was done, and my satisfaction towards the result was boosted by overcoming the challenges of the environment. Feeling like there were no alternatives did a lot for on my perception of the result, feeling heroic to have dealt with such situation.
Doing the same in the US, the bountiful land of opportunity, leave me often with the feeling that the job could have been done better, I look at other boats to seek comparisons, and the spiral of self-doubting keeps spinning. It seems that the number of options alone is not necessarily a good recipe for satisfaction, and instead it generates fatigue and uncertainty. After all, when you have so many options you are the sole responsible of your decisions, and most of the time you end up thinking it could have been better.
Finally the number of options decrease as we are getting close to completion. Most of the equipment is installed or on its way, few items are still missing as we make more space for decisions. Also when things finally fall into place satisfaction for starts to sink in and our good enough boat is looking awesome. I am sure the empty time of writing will be more frequent, and so this blogging adventure will be fueled by the real one. It’s happening!
Two coats of epoxy primer wrap Tranquility’s deck as I walk the dock in the cold morning, the first sunbeams reflects on the pure white forming little drops of dew on the surface. The hard work is slowing paying off and the grey tormented deck is already a memory. One more coat will hide any further mark of underlayer with an immaculate cloak, then the sexy two-part polyhurethane paint will have the perfect stage to play its glossy role.
Painting and sanding punctuate our days. The weather rules our schedule, as we are doing everything in open air, vulnerable to atmospheric change. We look for dry days, the warmer the better, but this time of the year in Coastal Georgia warm means humid and we have to adapt to good enough conditions. It’s always a little too windy or too humid or too cold. We don’t have the luxury to wait for the perfect day and we do the best with what we get. Other events, from family visits to work obligations, decide when we are able to continue working. We keep pushing but we can’t always walk at the pace we would like and our March deadline is getting closer every day.
As we work to change our mindset and we go through our belongings I am feeling a profound appreciation for the place we have been living for the last two years. The itch of going back to the ocean has often disturbed my ability to see all the gifts the Golden Isles provided us with, from wonderful friends to work opportunities, all surrounded by beautiful wilderness and by the warmth of a great sailing community. We and Tranquility went through a lot during this time, more than we could have possibly hoped for when we first launch from New Bedford, MA.
My parents recently visited us from Italy. It was their first trip to the US and we showed them around and took them to our favorite spots in this part of Georgia. We weren’t able to see them all, as they are too many. Through their amused eyes I could see once again how wonderful this coast is from many different points of view. There will a be time for goodbye and as we approach it the feelings of gratitude and nostalgia begin to pay us a visit. But it’s not time yet, we are still here and we have to keep the paint flow.
I like boat deliveries. It’s one of those sailing jobs where you are actually paid to sail. Sometimes when skippering private or charter boats I end up sitting somewhere doing maintenance and waiting for guests that undertake short trips, mostly day trips in protected waters. Nothing wrong with that but when it comes to sail a boat and squeeze miles out of her, deliveries are my favorite because you are on the clock and your customer satisfaction depends on how quickly you can move the boat from point A to point B. Even if it’s not a race, and the safety of crew and vessel are of the utmost importance you can’t simply take it easy, you have to keep going and sail as efficiently as possible to destination.
Southern Cross 31 before departure
Deliveries are good learning opportunity as you have to sail different boats, try different designs, gear and equipment. When the owner of a Southern Cross 31 was looking for skipper and crew to move his recent purchase from Brunswick, GA to Houston, TX I immediately felt like I wanted to jump onboard. I found the route interesting as I never sailed the Gulf of Mexico (never been to Texas either) and I was curious to see inland Florida through the Okeechobee Water Way. On the other side, the reputation of the Southern Cross 31 as a very seaworthy boat was another attractive feature of this project.
Designed by Thomas Gillmer, the Southern Cross 31 is a stout, double ender cutter. Her full keel and heavy displacement of 13,600 lbs (for a 31 footer) suggest that she is not a bolt and that her windward ability may lack some efficacy. The cutter rig however allows for a generous amount of sail area and flexibility in terms of adjustments to various sailing conditions and wind force. The SC31 is also known to have a very comfortable motion in high seas, and being relatevely roomy and able to carry supply make a boat for sailors that intend to go long distances.
As other designs built with the same philosophy (which can be dated back to the pioneeristic work of Colin Archer) such as Westsails, Allied Seawind and some of Bob Perry’s designs, this type of boat is often considered as the ultimate bluewater boat, for the extreme sturdiness and quality build, the conservative sail plan and hull shape above and under the waterline.
While I am not a great fan of the design, this delivery was a great opportunity to test my opinions first hand. It’s incredible how dogmatic and opinionated you become as soon as you start sailing, and it’s good to remind myself how little I know about boats and how much to learn is out there. I have to admit that even if I developed preferences and opinions about designs and outfittings, I like almost any boat. It’s hard to explain but there is something interesting in all of them!
To help me in this trip I once again had the luck to have Roberto, that helped me before with leg one and leg two of Tranquility’s trip. He helped me very much in assessing the boat conditions, making all the adjustments we needed and offering solid manpower during the hardest parts of the trip. He is the kind of person I’d sail anywhere with, and I am glad I could share another trip with him.
First Leg: Brunswick to Ft.Pierce
The first part of the trip was harder than I expected. Not only did the crew have to learn how to properly set up a boat that’s been filled with the latest equipment and accessories but never really sailed hard, also the weather didn’t cooperate. Since the beginning we had our share of hard work trying to make South and East against a moderate southeasterly breeze.
Just after leaving St.Simons Sound we had to steer clear of the shoals out of Jekyll and Cumberland Island, and that took us almost 20 miles to the East, and very little to the South. That same evening Coast Guard issued a severe thunderstorm watch, with a whole set of damaging winds, torrential rain and lightning strikes. We listened to the advisory on the VHF radio and having lived few months on the coast of Georgia I experienced how most of the times those advisories resolved in a bluff, much ado about nothing, and we were hoping to get a bit of a favorable blow from the W to finally start to make progress towards our destination. We furled the jib away, took one reef in the main and left the staysail up with blind optimism.
This time USCG predictions were accurate and the first hit of the squall sent the boat on her side and as I was taking the tiller from the hands of the Monitor Windvane, Roberto had to run to the mast and reef the mainsail down to reef number three. Lightnings were all around the boat, very loud and creepy and in just few minutes we were completely soaked and shivering. After the first violent blow we managed to stabilize the boat and put her on course for maybe half an hour before the wind died again and turned from the South, leaving us wet and with little progress done.
To try to put miles behind us we spent the night motorsailing and the same happened the next day. Luckily we had a reliable inboard Yanmar diesel engine and we didn’t hesitate to crank it up when necessary to make progress to point B. Again, 24 hours later, off Cape Canaveral we had severe thunderstorms but this time we were well prepared and we anticipated the downburst and kept a good control of the boat during the squalls giving also the owner the opportunity to be at the tiller on a fresh broad reach in near gale conditions.
Light breeze the next days put our arrival time in Fort Pierce for late night and after tackling the inlet channel riding a strong incoming tide we made a sneaky approach in the dark and tied up in a marina with the plan to refuel in the early morning and continue to Mile 0 of the Okeechobee Water Way in Stuart, Florida.
Second Leg: Okeechobee Water Way (OWW)
Loaded up with fuel we began the long motoring days of the OWW through the St.Lucie River. The calm waters and little traffic allowed us to reorganize the boat and make the necessary repairs and upgrades.
Despite thousands of dollars spent in equipment and gear (including enough spare parts for a couple of circumnavigations), this boat had been sitting on a dock in Brunswick for several years and never sailed anywhere. A sad story heard before, the dream of long distance sailing vanished and the boat moved in different hands a couple of times. As often happens during deliveries this was more of a sea trial that pointed out the condition of the boat. Thinking back to our experience on Tranquility and other boats I am starting to understand how you need a passage of at least 500 miles to really put a boat through a minimum test. Few systems that worked perfectly when the boat was tied up to a dock started to fail, the brand new sails were not properly hoisted, the fridge failed and the AIS stopped transmitting.
As we were steaming around the inlets of the East Coast of Florida, we found and removed some seawater inside one of the lockers under a bunk that was not there before the trip. We used all our brain cells to try to unfold the mystery, with little success. The occurrence did not repeat so we put our mind at rest.
The crazy freshwater-macerator-holding tank system for the boat’s head failed almost immediately but Roberto was smart enough to MacGyver a fashionable repair that allowed us to use the head again, even better than before. Then the fridge stopped working, so I had to start pulling out feasty banquets of meats and perishable food to avoid the spoiling of our provisions. The spirits were high when we moored in Indiantown, FL at the local marina (obviously after working hours) where we also enjoyed the company of other cruisers and a load of fresh beddings from the laundry.
Port Mayaca Locks: Roberto waiting for divers in the lock
Not all evilcomes to harm, and so do the failures onboard. During the trip the new owner had the chance to assess the boat and to have an idea about what he really needed onboard and what were haute couture sailing accessories. His desire was to undertake an offshore passage and learn more about sailing. Instead of waiting on an armchair for his boat to be delivered, he bravely decided to be part of the trip despite a recent injury that limited his mobility. Together we formed a cheerful trio that endured the difficulties and discomfort of long distance sailing.
Lake Okeechobee: it’s like to be in the middle of the ocean
The rest of the trip on the OWW depended on locks schedules. Divers doing extraordinaire maintainance on Port Mayaca locks messed up our timing and progress, as we had to wait for two hours tied up to dolphins. Once they let us pass, the crossing of Lake Okeechobee was like an offshore passage, as in some portion of it no land was on sight. We chose the Route #1, directly across the lake, as it is the most direct way. We encountered hostile armies of mosquitos when we anchored out of Moore Haven after missing the last opening of the lock by 5 minutes. The clutch and the throttle failed right there during anchoring operations, so we had a nice repair project to deal with. Luckily it was no big deal so we enjoyed a quiet afternoon, spotting birds and alligators and eating more chicken.
Ft.Myers signed the return to civilization, and busy life. After a comprehensive provisioning at the local supermarket, refueling and deserved showers, we checked online weather forecast that stated no hazardous weather was on our trajectory for the first part of the trip. We also found a solid block of ice to keep our provisions fresh.. Everything conjured to make a prompt departure the very next morning.
It’s been a while since the last time I posted about Tranquility. We have been sucked into different activities and duties on land, and even though projects were constantly happening on our boat, the engagement was not at the top levels. Now that we are facing a renovate wave of passion for our little craft, the levels of commitment and project management are springing back up. We may be able to resume cruising soon and this is what brings fresh to strong breeze to our endeavour, but we don’t want to say it too loud because like every sailor we are a bit superstitious.
The big event is that Tranquility turned 50 years old. Built in 1965 in Portsmouth, VA she is not immune to the inexorable effect of time passing and all our effort goes in the direction of making her a safe and pretty little boat. All across the world thousands of old boats sit abandoned in various stages of neglect, sometimes they are not even as old as Tranquility is. When we found her in a random yard of the South Coast of Massachussets two years ago, she was asking for help. Paul, the guy who sold us the boat, had a great vision for her and started a complete refit after she had been neglected for a few years. He eventually had to give up due to other projects happening in his life and put her for sale. We caught the ball.
Tranquility is the boat we fell in love with, she makes our heart sing and tickle our fancy when we imagine her at anchor in a quiet cove, floating over turquoise water. She is also the boat we could afford to buy, but it’s fair to say that she has a lot of competitors for that price range. Both Kate and I were hooked the first time we saw her. Now that she is undoubtely the boat we own, we are trying to bring the best out of her, with our limitation of budget and knowledge.
In the past 50 years boat design and technology made great stride, as innovation never stops. Boat shows brings every year new shiny models with the latest improvements onboard. Even ten years old boats become quickly obsolete as bulding materials, safety gear and electronic components change every month, and the great circus of progress will make that boat turn in a less desiderable dream. Eventually will come the time when an expert will state that a boat has done her time and she’s not worthy to upkeep, as the price to bring her to current standards would exceed the convenience of purchase a new model. It happens with all our technology and goods: today nobody thinks it’s worthy to fix a pair of shoes, it’s easier to buy a new pair.
Why would somebody invest so much energy and money in an old boat? There is no pragmatism when it comes to sailing, at any level, and so boat restoration evades the usual categories of economical profit. Some people may think that you could recoup what you put in monetarily once you sell an old classic design in shipshape Bristol fashion. But this is just a mirage as boats have a tendency in not holding their value and they require expensive components and supplies to be kept in good shape. It doens’t matter how good is the boat. Millionaires know it too. Futuristic newly built Luxury Yachts depreciate very quickly too and chartering sometimes don’t even cover the running costs. For the haves, it is often a way to avoid taxation rather than a profitable business.
Luckily human discovered sailing thousands of years ago, and for how refined this art had become its basics are founded on simple principles. Older boat can still bring the emotions of a brand new model, for a fraction of the cost, plus an old boat can still benefit from newest improvement and accessories. With sufficient thought and effort, you will end up with a boat that satisfy your eyes and can be fitted to your requirements better than any new production could. This is the way we decided to take: starting with a bare-strip hull to reconfigure the boat as we prefer.
After coming down the East Coast with a partially complete boat we have learned two things. The first is that is surprising how little you need to enjoy cruising. The trip was in fact enjoyable and safe, even if some parts were installed along the way and others had never really been. The second is there are very important issues you want to address in order to fully enjoy your time. Trying on Tranquility we discovered what worked and what didn’t, what we liked and disliked, and that helped us establish priorities in our project list. In the next weeks we are going to share some of these improvements, hoping that posting them publicly will help our legs keep pace with our desires.
The past week I had the opportunity to help James Baldwin to launch his Pearson Triton “Atom”, a 28 ft sailboat that James took around the globe twice. Atom got back in the water after an extensive refit. The Columbia 29 and the Pearson Triton are very similar designs, so Atom it’s a an ideal example to see how to fit Tranquility as an offshore cruising yacht. James and Mei made an excellent job with this refit and Atom looks better than ever. The northerly wind offered perfect sailing conditions in the Marshes of Glynn and we made it safely to the dock enjoying the day on the water.
Yesterday I was giving Tranquility a nice soapy bath when a man came by on the dock. “I am glad to see a beautiful Columbia 29” he said. He is the owner of a gorgeous Swan 40 tied up a few slips from Tranquility and remarked how both boats were designed by Sparkman & Stephens.
We nattered quite a while and he was very curious about her, and profoundly admired Tranquility’s design. I was flattered by his ammiration while at the same time I was embarassed by the general cosmetic situation like the still incomplete toe rail, the scratches and the worn out teak (at least I had just removed the mud from the anchoring operation). Kate and I often joke about it saying we own “a classic”, instead of an old piece of plastic that has been shaking in seas for almost 50 years.
I have to say that the first moment we met Tranquility on the grass of a random yard something magical happened and we decided to buy her even if the seller was also offering a Pearson Triton in sailaway condition.
The irrational magic prevailed over the rational thinking and we purchased the Columbia. Forty percent of this magic comes from the awe and fascination of an almost bare hull that make you dream about how beautiful and custom made the final result will be. Another forty percent is for sure that no matter what boat you end up buying you made a great choice because it’s yours. Twenty percent is something unexplicable, like a siren song of boat fetishism. Or maybe it’s true that boats have spirits and she was talking to us. “L’essentiel est invisible pour les yeux”
This magic embodied in her lines may or may not be visible but other people notice it. She has charming lines. Everyone who asks “What boat is this?” then pretends to know about Columbia 29 and the most common words associated are “seaworthy”, “sturdy” or “well built”.
I haven’t found another Columbia 29 on the water yet and after a brief online research it looks there are very few for sale. It’s not a popular boat that you run into at every anchorage, but it looks like it’s a famous one. Quite a few people still admires boats from that era. They recognize in them the golden era of classic and seaworthy designs, even if this concept is open to endless debate as it’s very hard to define what makes a boat seaworthy.
Columbia 29 is one of the first fiberglass boats that made sailing affordable for the middle class. The first boat was built independently around 1960 on S&S design #1508 and then bought by Glass Laminates of Costa Mesa, CA that launched her on the market. This boat became a big seller and the name Columbia was incorporated into the company. Columbia then expanded on the East Coast in Portsmouth, VA where Tranquility was built in 1965 as hull #85. Tranquility is the MK1 version, from the original design. Later, Columbia introduced a MK2 version with raised deck and 1000 lbs more ballast. And not happy, following a market that was going in the direction of more and more interior space they raised the deck again and launched the model called Defender.
I am happy about the choice we made with Tranquility. This doesn’t mean the Columbia 29 is a better sailboat than the Pearson Triton, but that we are happier with the features we have (masthead cutter rig, electric engine,). On the other hand there is no rationality in deciding to buy a boat and so it’s pointless to try to understand why. It just gives a lot of satisfaction to encounter many people that admire our tiny little boat.
Today is the winter solstice, when we experience the shortest daylight period and the longest night of the year. From today the daylight will increase every day by a little bit reaching the maximum daylight period during the next solstice, the summer one. Sailing during winter time means having to deal with short days and long nights. If you want to maximize daylight you have to be ready for an early start at dawn, hoping to get in port by the sunset. Usually sailors plan their passages trying to avoid night sailing, expecially in the nearbies of the coast, inlets and waterways. But that’s the theory.
Often the planning and the execution take diverging paths and you end up entering port at night. It happened a lot to us, expecially because we don’t have a powerful engine and we rely mostly on freakish winds. Also sometimes we are not so prompt to leave the dock.
By the way any sailor should be competent in leaving and entering ports with dark and generally in night sailing, using the aids for navigation and the 5 senses. The unexpected is often present on a sailboat and the execution may differ from the plan forcing an approach with the dark. However, if you can sail with the full moon the visibility is great and it’s also a pleasure, but it’s during the darkest nights that you can enjoy a beautiful starry sky.
We left the Intracoastal Waterway in Morehead City, NC and headed offshore again on Thursday 12th December. Our destination was Southport NC with an incursion in the ICW for the last 20 or so miles through the Masonboro Inlet. We wanted to avoid the long sailing around Cape Fear to clear the Frying Pan Shoals.
The day sailing was fun, cold and with some swell, but relatively comfortable. We passed very close to Marine Corps Base Camp Lejeune, and we saw and heard them practice firing. Even if we were relatively clear off their perimeter I have to confess that at any shot you would have seen our compass jerk toward a much more southern course, even if it was ridicoulus to try to escape artillery doing 6 knots.
We arrived at Masonboro Inlet at night even if we had good wind. We knew we could anchor in Wrightsville Beach and continue the next day. The moon that night was bright but the cloudy sky dimmed its light, and as it often happens we encountered more than one unlit buoy, luckily without shaking hands. On our way to the anchorage we kept seeing empty pontoons of the waterfront properties. We were pretty tired and thought that it was no harm to tie up just for the night and so we did, being awakened by a older gentleman in the morning who checked if we were ok and said we could stay as much as we wanted. That’s one of the few perks of sailing during off season.
We left anyway the next morning, pretending we are on a schedule. One more day of boring ICW and we got to Southport, a very little village at the outfall of Cape Fear River. Here we spent one night at the local Marina and one at the public dock where we met a little community of liveaboards, made friends, shared dinner and breakfast and saved some bucks.
Other times it happen that you chose to leave at night because of a weather window, and that’s what happened on Sunday Decemeber 15th. We left Southport with a small group of supporters gathered at the dock to witness our silent electric engine as we pulled out at 6:30 pm, as soon as the southern winds died and the northerlies started to pick up. Pushed by the ebb flow of Cape Fear River we met force 3 winds that put us in motion on the gentle swell towards our destination, Georgetown, SC.
That was the plan but then we changed it once again. After a very brief consult we decided to keep going and reach Charleston, putting one more night in front of us. Kate is now a perfect salty dog able to cook on a rocking boat and to peform all the tasks required to stand watch. The last sailing bit entering Ashley River was obviously upwind and against the tide but with patience we made it up to the main anchorage, in front of the City Marina in the wee hours of Tuesday morning. We dropped anchor and slept like logs.
Charleston is a great city and we are enjoying a lot our stay. It also has a convenient airport that will deliver us to Kate’s family for Christmas. That’s the reason why we decided to leave Tranquility here while we commute for holidays. While we were here I also had a fortunate coincidence and met friends who also were sailing south and stopped in Charleston. We will continue our journey to Florida soon, with possible stops in Beaufort, SC, Savannah, GA and Jacksonville, FL.
Tranquility Voyage: Leg 2 Block Island RI to Norfolk VA – 385 nm
I believe there are mainly three reason that made this long passage possible: Tranquility, the weather and Roberto.
Starting from Tranquility I can only be happy about her. We purchased her following a positive feeling we had when we stepped onboard for the first time in a random yard (and positive reviews, especially on atom voyages website). We were anxious about testing her offshore, to confirm the accuracy of our intuition and the reputation of the Columbia 29 as capable of offshore sailing. The crew feedback is positive and unanimous: easy sail controls (reefing is a piece of cake), no sprays on deck (and on us), well balanced rig and performing sails (made in China) that allow to reach hull speed with winds of 10-15 kts. We felt safe for the entire trip, even during the most challenging moments.
We picked a very fortunate weather window departing Block Island last Tuesday at 11pm with northwesterlys blowing 20kts. The complicate part was leaving Great Salt Pond with the wind on the nose. We motored our way out the channel at about 1 knot, slow but steady, without pushing the throttle too hard worried about loosing charge and finding ourself stuck in a dangerous situation. As soon as we cleared the channel, we were in full sail on a beam reach passing Montauk and Long Island on our starboard side. The forecast was very accurate and we had costant NW winds with temperatures in 30s and 40s, cold but not too much. We experimented occasional light winds but for most of the passage we had constant favorable wind that made us decide to keep going and leave Cape May and Ocean City behind, aiming for Norfolk VA. A plan that SW winds forced us to abandon in favor of a stop in Wachapreague, 65 miles away from Norfolk. The perspective of having a dinner in a restaurant and a hot shower far outweighted one more night and morning at the helm. Navigating the salt marsh inlet was not a joke and we felt the mud under the keel more than once, but we eventually got there and had a great dinner, a deep sleep and a touristic morning waiting for the next high tide. The last portion of the leg was an easy and happy sail down to Cape Charles and the Chesapeake entrance where the approaching cold front got us and forced us to reduce sails and to a “sporty” cut to Elizabeth River and Norfolk; two long, cold and windy hours till we safely moored in Waterside Marina Sunday Morning at 2am.
The third and very important reason was our temporary help, Roberto. This passage wouldn’t be possible without him. Two crew and no autopilot would have been too extreme for a winter passage in the North Atlantic. We would’t have enough stamina and skills to do it. Plus Roberto is a kind of sailor I admire: even though he is a commercial licensed Superyacht captain with many years of experience he still has the enthusiasm and the feel for adventure to accept and enjoy such an unconventional and challenging trip. One image is representative of his contribution to the trip and Kate had the pleasure and the thrill to witness it: when she emerged from down below after her rest time she saw me and Roberto disassembling and reassembling the tiller while simultaneously steering the boat in choppy seas. His contribution was not only in terms of hands on deck, but he also suggested and performed important upgrades while keeping a joyful presence onboard. A fresh pair of eyes like Roberto’s couldn’t have come at a better time, when Kate and I needed a push and new ideas after the long, tiring and winding summer refit.
Now we are sitting in Norfolk, waiting for better weather, resting and upgrading our little home. We feel cozy in here and we can’t wait to continue our trip south along the Intracostal Waterway, a severe and interesting test for our electric engine as motoring will be crucial.
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.
I find myself reluctant to write about the boat works lately. I felt completely overwhelmed and unable to contemplate the whole picture. In fact, there is no whole picture but a series of consecutive blocks of problems to be solved, with new blocks adding everyday, in a perpetual tetris puzzle.
I am prisoner of my own restoration plan, incapable to see progress. I just put the head down and work, pushing the rock ahead.
This also becomes a constant source of conflict between me and Kate. She is more of a rational planner, I am a non-linear intuitive doer. She likes to plan, execute, terminate and evaluate a task. I jump from task to task and keep things on hold. It was hard to pull it through together with such different attitudes, but eventually we worked out our differences, or at least we learned to tolerate them.
Shame is also part of the process and realizing that you are involved in a project that uses time, materials and labour inefficiently is not exactly an invigorating tonic for the ego. I stopped writing about the improvements because I failed to recognize them.
But progress was happening, in a mysterious way.
Before I embarked on this project I scanned the literature about boat restoration. Among others This old boat by Don Casey was illuminating and also fun to read. I applied the author’s planning method on the paper and I tried to follow it. The reality mixed everything up.
We made mistakes, hold over, went backwards, fought, made peace. Following the plan was the most difficult part as well as evaluating the progress. I gradually sunk in a “just keep pushing” modality while I was finding everyday new obstacles.
August and the first part of September summoned the demons that others evocated when we started this journey:
Statistics – 90% of people who buy an old boat with the goal of fixing it up and going sailing on it fail.
Dream – every man has a dream that won’t work.
Fatigue– it’s a lot harder to do than you think it is.
Bankruptcy– You’d need the funds to go on for at LEAST a year without working.
Now after some unpredictable turns the whole picture came back and it’s even scarier. It may be possible to have the mast on an the electric engine wired and back to work by the end of next week. And then it’s all about putting the pieces together on deck, hoping that the sails are arriving on time and finishing a couple of painting projects. Then what?
Then the demons of leaking thru-hulls, faulty installations and unespected quirks around the corner will show up, gathered by a sort of fear of the fear amplified by the discomfort of the approaching cold winter. While the clouds of the final act are massing on the horizon there will be time to hum this annoying but truthful chorus:
“Keep pushin, keep pushin, well even if you think your strength is gone Keep pushin on”
“It does not matter how slowly you go as long as you do not stop.” Confucius
Today I feel like the boat beat us. After an entire day spent working we have been able to complete the installation of only 1 porthole. We have 7 more to go. It is so frustrating. We should do better tomorrow, as we learned the process. This achievement was not painless tough, as we had to fight a lot to find the right way to do the job and to work as a team. Sometimes things are not as easy as you imagined.
Drilling new holes for the portholes
We won great battles so far, like having the deck painted, the steering wheel removed and the enormous battery bank (500lbs in total) out of the boat. We removed and cleaned the head that was sitting on a rotten floor, we got rid of three frozen seacocks. Any of these projects obviously come with a plethora of collateral small jobs, tools to buy and parts to find or restore.
Heavy batteries
Everyday looks different, we have good days where we complete our tasks, and we have bad ones and we are behind our schedule. I guess it’s not different from any other life. There are good and bad days, but you have to keep the pace and go ahead.
Kate sorting out the wood trims
To keep track of our work and not feel lost in the general execution of the projects Kate created a special binder that summarizes our plan. It’s divided into weeks and so far we planned eight weeks that should take us from the yard to the water. It already looks like they re going to be 16 probably… and that we are about to spend the whole summer on the boat.
Some of the products we use onboard
Tomorrow we will try to speed up and be more effective to complete the job on the portholes and have the deck finally sealed. Same script, we wake up and we do the same journey to the boat, one more day of work and one step more toward the sea.
I recently helped a friend launching his boat in Buzzards Bay during a nice but chilly afternoon. I just finished to roll up a coat of primer on Tranquillity’s deck so I abandoned the yard works to join Freddie for the launch of Destinada.
Once in the slip and afloat he tried to back up but the notorious poor reverse manoeuvrability of the long keeled boat forced him to an audacious turn around in the slip. The manoeuvre in close quarters happened with myself hangin from the boat life lines and pushing with my legs against the dock, making the boat spin.
Pushing Destinada was like pushing any decent size tender. We moored on a floating dock with ease: from the dock it was easy to move Destinada just pulling the mooring lines. When I asked Freddie what was the displacement of his boat he answered 7400lbs. Same as Tranquillity!
I noticed for the first time that a boat can be lightweight! I assumed they were not because I never really sailed a boat that weigh less than 20 tons. For this class of weight human power can’t do much. You better have big lines and powerful engine and motors. Everything has to be powerful and heavy duty. This seems pretty obvious but this last experience had the effect of an epistemological revolution on my boating experience.
Now my boat is a 29ft. and displace 7400ft. The cleats and the deck hardware look like toys to my eyes but they were there when the boat sailed offshore to Canada, Bermuda and the Caribbean. They were there facing Hurricane Hugo in 1989. When I consider the refit of the boat I have to let down my previous experience on big boats and learn a completely new way. What do I need?
I have to look at different examples. Like Jeff that sails his Bristol 29 singlehanded in and out of the mooring without an engine. The engine simply doesn’t work but it’s not necessary, he says. And when there’s no wind all he does is sculling with the rudder. It takes some time but it works.
It looks like that the more I go into this refit the closer it gets to the essential. It scares me but maybe I don’t need all the fancy equipment I planned to install. I thought I was being an extremist already but I feel now I am acting in a very consumistic way. I am starting to feel that being lightweight is good attitude towards boating and perhaps life.
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.
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.
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!
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.
In few hours I will finally lay hands on my boat again after 4 months. After purchasing Tranquillity, Kate and I went through a process of preparation that kept us apart and far away from the boat. For her it meant cutting the dock lines that kept her moored in NYC for a very long time. For me it was to wander the caribbean and harvest the necessary gold to start the restoration and equipment for Tranquillity. The rigor of New England’s winter contributed to postpone our project and the yard work. In some ways, we are still wimps.
We are brave however, when it comes to the decluttering process. We need to select and reduce our belongings to fit into a car first and then into a 29 ft sailboat. The task is not easy but I am lucky because Kate became a professional in this kind of operation and she is a great help. To reduce our belongings involves binning a lot of clothes and items, it means also merging departments and discarding surpluses. Sometimes I am terrified when I have to let go something, I feel like a real part of me is going away. Wait for an hour and this feeling disappears, and your pile of clothes and junk look more tidy, eventually fitting into a small place.
I am a very lazy guy and as many others I have this tendency to occupy all the available space, like a stuff Big Bang. Choosing a small boat means to seek discipline in this matter. There will be no space for the surplus, we will have to pick the essential and take care of what we have.
The decluttering process pointed out to me the importance of quality. While I was ironing my clothes I was amazed at how old but still beautiful is one of my shirts. That garment is probably more than 10yrs old and it has been with me in any place I traveled and went through third world washing machines, but it is sill pretty while other relatively new cheaper clothes show signs of wear. Quality is something to consider when purchasing equipment and even if we run on a small budget we should get few essential quality items.
Now we have no excuses, we finally moved ourselves and a well-sorted pile of things to the proximity of Tranquillity, in Fairhaven, MA. A kind friend, Keith, helped us to find a temporary nest in his parents’ house while we go through this project. For a long time Tranquillity will be not suitable for occupancy due to the restoration process and we will be shore-based in the place where Moby Dick took form, a place where the ocean is part of daily life and wrote important pages of history.
GO small GO simple GO now (but fix the boat first!)
Lin and Larry Pardey coined the phrase ” Go small Go simple Go now “. When it comes to sailing, I think it is a good philosophy to keep in mind.
I never made a bucket list (false, I have at least “live in Buenos Aires for a while”) or had a lifetime dream.
The truth is that I have always had several dreams running in parallel and connecting randomly one to the other.
For example I’ve always wanted to buy a small RV like the old VW van and make long journeys on it. It hasn’t happened yet but what happened is that I bought a small sailboat instead.
A small RV and a small boat have a lot more in common than the mere adjective.
Both are vessels that pursue the idea of a nomadic and self sufficient life. That is true even if for most of the people they represent a mean of transportation for the spare time. They share a destination that is beyond the horizon and they give you a cozy and comfortable support during the trip.
Why dreaming small while I could dream about a big luxury RV or a 90ft sailing yacht. Dreams are for free they say, so why don’t exaggerate?
Coziness and simplicity of a living space have a great attractive power over me. The smaller and simpler is the shell that separates you from the environment, the less is the interference with the experience. Insulation from elements has always been an important feature for a living space but it seems that today we removed ourselves from nature completely.
If you consider yourself limited and defined by the walls of you home why would you buy a mansion? If you want to travel the World why would you watch it from the window?
Going small and simple has many advantages.
Simple and affordable equipment put less obstacles in your cruising project. Maintenance,and repairs can be made cheaper and quicker, with less need for technical expertise. It means more time and more money for cruising.
Handling sailsm lines and equipment is easier and requires less manpower, even when the situation gets gnarly.
Small boat are capable of great things, allowing you an easier access to shallow anchorages and more available slips in the marinas.
A small cruising boat it was also the only possible option due to our limited budget.
The original project was to save at least 80k$, necessary to buy a certain model of boat, and investing the rest in a complete refit and outfitting, in order to have a perfect boat ready for bluewater ocean voyaging.
I soon realized that the 80k budget was not a sustainable goal for my finances, and that if I really wanted to go cruising and live aboard I should reduce my expectations and go as soon as possible, with what is at hand.
Saving up for years in order to have the budget someday was a way to avoid the problem. Maybe it would have been a wise financial move, but it would require to delay the start of the project. Instead I checked my balance in the bank account and make a plan according to what was my real available budget.
Two events participate in the decision to go now and not wait for the future.
ùThe first one was reading about Matt Rutherford circumnavigating the Americas singlehanded, non-stop facing the Northwest Passage and Cape Horn aboard a 27-footer Albin Vega. This exploit opened my eyes on the fact a certain type of small fiberglass sailboat are capable vessels that can sail the oceans even in high latitudes.
I inevitably fell in love with the small but sturdy Albin Vega and started to make more and more research about the so called Good Old Boats, small vessels strong enough to take you everywhere you want.
Unfortunately, Rutherford’s exploit made the price of Albin Vega’s rise quite a bit on the used market. But the Albin Vega is only one of several good old boats on the market, and with 10k$ or less there’s an universe of sailboats that can take you anywhere.
The second event was reading about Daeung Sunim, a 42yrs-old Korean Buddhist monk that is going to bike his way across Canada, the United States, Mexico, and finally on down into South America. Asked why he was doing it, the quiet monk put his hand to his chest and said, “To test my spirit.”
The shocking part for me was to learn that the monk faced this challenge with no previous experience or training and that he just took this challenge on his shoulders because he wanted to see if he was able to do it.
Another event that made go now a feasible project is the fact that my partner wanted to do it too and so finally Kate and I bought a Columbia 29 with the idea of fix it up, go living aboard and cruising around.
It’s our first move to “test our spirit” and I am sure the refit will be a very demanding one, but this is the best way we could find to follow the adage ” Go small go simple go now “.
