meditation Archives - La possibilità di un'isola

Keep Swimming, Keep Rowing, Keep Sailing

By fabio@lapossibilitadiunisola.com | May 15, 2020 | Comments 1 comment

Building the hard dodger for Tranquility is a project made possible by a chain of events that stretches several months in the past. A key element to this transformation was the dinghy, also knows as auxiliary boat or tender.

Looking at this older picture of Tranquility you can notice that the plastic Walker Bay dinghy sat on top of the companionway, in a very secure spot, but making it impossible to protect the cockpit and companionway, and forcing the crew to duck considerably to get in and out. On small boats like the Columbia 29 the stowage of dinghies is not a trivial matter, as the auxiliary boat is an indispensable tool on any cruising vessel and the space on deck is limited.

The 8 feet long Walker Bay is a dependable and solid dinghy, and I grew accustomed to its carrying capacity and good rowing abilities. I was not ready to renounce such luxury. The solution to this problem appeared to be a nesting dinghy, an auxiliary boat that is comprised of two parts that can be nested one inside the other, reducing its length when stowed. It was basically impossible to find a nesting dinghy where I was on the Atlantic Coast of Panama. Building one became the only option.

I built that boat out of fiberglass and nida-core panels while in a secluded marina surrounded by jungle, a project that took a lot of time, money and energy, but that unlocked the possibility to both have a decent size dinghy (8 feet in length) and a future dodger. As I was building it from scratch I decided to make it also a sailing dinghy, putting together pieces that people almost spontaneously donated.

I have never shared the details of the building in this blog and I will not do it now. Those months spent in the Panamanian jungle coincide with a very difficult time for me.

As many key moments in one’s personal life those times are colored by often extremes emotional tones that progress on their own course. Kate and I were finding more and more difficult to work as a team in life and the dinghy project became for me both a refuge and a statement of identity.

What I will do instead is telling a story that came from that time. It does not describe technically the building process nor the chronology of the events, but it gives an idea of the motives and the discoveries that happened inside and around me while building a small boat.

THIS IS THE STORY OF ARCTIC TERN

Arctic Tern is a little boat.

She was born near Nombre de Dios in Panama, under a roof between two containers, surrounded by a 15 meter mast and assorted junk coming from boats in advance state of abandon.

Kind souls donated the elements that put together gave her wings: A fiberglass tube that a Spanish Explorer had no use for, a beautiful sail with the emblem of a horse offered by an Argentinian Sailing Teacher, a dagger board forged by a Polish Engineer in the sultry womb of a steel ship, a weird looking rudder from the nautical collection of an Australian Firefighter.

Giving birth to Arctic Tern was a lot of suffering and pain. It of course cost a lot of money to buy the materials, a lot of sweat in transporting them, and to put them together.

Arctic Tern was also the last nail in the coffin of a failing relationship. She gave her creator spiritual and physical wounds, broken hands and even a chemical burn in one eye from a drop of resin. Many tools broke and clothes were destroyed in the process.

But it was also fun. In those long weeks that stretched into months the creator was busy overcoming design and construction problems, in endless discussions with curious standbyers, crossing all the boundaries from feeling hopeless and stupid to be elated and proud.

When Arctic Tern was born she was ugly.

It is better said she was not symmetrical and she was on the heavy side, definitely sturdy.

“Ogni scarrafo’ è bello a mamma soia” say people from Naples. Every cockroach looks beautiful to its mom.

She was immediately loved. Not just by the creator who built her from stem-to-stern, but from the neighbors who saw the long process unfolding, both the enthusiasts and the naysayers.

It was a fool’s idea, with no logic whatsoever and it could not be stopped. The mothership Tranquility was ready to let go of Walker Bay, the reliable companion of many landing and explorations, and she welcomed the weird looking boat made of two halves.

The launch was a long awaited moment.

When Arctic Tern touched the water she started flying. She is very good at it.

The creator sat in her lap and he was very afraid of going out in anything blowing stronger than a mild breeze, doubting the abilities of his creature and his own’s as sailor.

Arctic Tern was born ready.

Her flat belly dances on the surface of the ocean. She almost takes off when her two wings start to act in harmony in a lively wind.

The big one opens catching the breath of the sky, the small one points down in the deep ocean gripping invisible streams.

The two wings balance each other and so the dance is possible.

The creator took Arctic Tern out for more and more dances, sitting in her lap while she was doing what boats do.

Through Arctic Tern the creator is learning to fly, and when he is with her out In the ocean, the real teachers come to see them.

Ospreys, terns, pelicans, the graceful gliding vultures. The masters of Air.

They look down to watch Arctic Tern and the creator progress.

They show them how to dance in the currents, how to float about.

They are always vigilant as they glide undisturbed.

The creator down below feels very nervous, scared of the big waves, afraid of breaking a bone or a wing of Artic Tern.

They see each other and a feeling of communion is established. They are the same even if they fly for different purposes.

They are all part of the Great Dance, a dance that follows different rhythms and that contains them all.

THE GREAT DANCE

The creator of Arctic Tern learned that in those very moments on the surface of the ocean by the rocky headland all the freedom lanes become one.

How simple it was just to be out there doing their part!

He understood that we share the dance with everybody even those who try to be small and invisible, and that everything, even his sturdy little vessel and not just himself, is temporary.

It doesn’t matter if you are on a tiny sailboat on the surface of the ocean, a petrel swooping on the crest of a wave or if you are a bluefin tuna just below it.

You are just doing your part, so why worry?

It was then that he felt bizarre thoughts invading his head, as if they were coming from the outside. He felt a question brewing.

What if the Mighty Tuna comes and swallows us all? The Slim Sardine asked in the Creator’s mind.

After few second of perplexity he welcomed this alien consciousness as a guest.

What Can you do about it? Not a whole lot, Slim Sardine. Yes, you can swim away from the Mighty Tuna mouth and look for shelter in tube-like swirling spirals, with family and friends, in your community of sardines.

But when the The Mighty Tuna is coming for you… What you can really do Slim Sardine is keep swimming, keep rowing, keep sailing.

You’re doing it good or doing it bad, but you’re doing it, as long as you won’t stop dancing.

Be a little patient and keep swimming. keep rowing, keep sailing.

It is as simple as that.

The same is true for me, thought the Creator. My hands will hurt, my eyes will be dry and red, my buttocks will be sore and sun and dry air will crack my lips and tangle my hair.

And when the storm comes I might drown. What can I do about it?

Keep swimming keep rowing, keep sailing.

The creator’s eyes turned wet by the upwelling of emotions. Salty jewels from the body poured back into the ocean.

The Heron taught him how to be patient, that good positioning and one precise strike is worth much more than a lot of fussing around. He heard the Heron’s thought merging with his own’s.

He felt this idea was beautiful and true, so he decided to address the Mighty Tuna itself…

Do you Mighty Tuna worry about the little sardines you’re swallowing whole? You follow your hunger Mighty Tuna.

But look behind your back, the Savage Shark may be coming soon for you. So what you can really do is to keep swimming, keep rowing, keep sailing.

After all, even if the shark may never find you, nothing’s going to change you are still going to disappear. Maybe you’re good. Maybe you swim fast because you are mighty. But if you’re in the wrong place then you get swallowed.

You may think you have to leave the dance floor because there are more important or more urgent things do. Serious business.

You are running and you are doing a good job, and maybe you are so good that the shark is going to miss you, and you’re not going to bite the hook. You know better than that. You’re faster than the spear. You’re the best. Nothing can touch you.

You are just fooling yourself Mighty Tuna, you’re going to end up digested by something. Microbes, bacterias, mushrooms, something is going to chew you to bits.

And even when you are the Savage Shark you are not safe. Maybe you will bite a hook on a fishing line. Maybe it’s the Killer Whale. Maybe it’s a disease, or some plastic in your guts. It doesn’t matter.

Swimming, rowing, sailing… you skim the surface and participate in the Big Dance.

Everybody’s dancing. Birds in the sky, people holding cocktails, monkeys in the jungle.

So again Mighty Tuna, Savage Shark or Slim Sardine. It doesn’t matter what you do or what you think.

Keep swimming.

Keep rowing.

Keep sailing, and keep dancing.

Escaping death just for one day wont’ grant you a special treatment. Just do what you want. Somebody is going to swallow you and there are no medicines, Science can’t stop that.

Nothing can cure you from the disease, because there is no disease.

There’s enough beauty in a single note of the music and in each single step of the Great Dance to keep you raptured forever. Every day is a gift, and for every bad day you can be happy that you don’t have to live it again.

Keep swimming, and stretch your wings

Keep rowing, and learn

Keep sailing and dance with me.

The music keeps playing. You want change. Everybody is still dancing and you can decide to do whatever you like because this is not going to affect the dance, it keeps going with or without you

You can be in the dance or out of the dance.

It doesn’t matter what you do, all you have left is to keep swimming, keep (G)rowing, keep sailing.

The Slim Sardine, the Mighty Tuna and the Savage Shark said goodbye to Arctic Tern and the creator and swayed back into the Great Dance.

The creator realized he just lectured a bunch of fishes and a heron, who could care less about the lecture as she was catching dinner. For some reason it didn’t feel as strange as it sounds.

The creator eased the line that controlled Arctic Tern’s air wing to catch the following breeze while he raised the water wing. He felt the acceleration radiating through her solid belly as they bounced on the surface of the ocean.

He understood that the logics he told himself and others behind that building endeavor were nothing but wishy washy rationales encircling a deeper motivation. He acted and then needed to justify his actions.

He was doing his thing, taking part in the Great Dance.

Keep swimming, keep rowing, keep sailing.

The inadequate identity of Sailor (or of any other…)

By fabio@lapossibilitadiunisola.com | April 7, 2020 | Comments 3 comments

I always suffered of identity problems.

It seems self explanatory that identity is the sum of the qualities, mostly beliefs, that define a person’s image. The role this person has in society also feed the sense of identity. It is a common human perception to feel we are individual, unique beings, and we look for evidence to support this perception.

I am walking a very perilous philosophical path here, a walk that I will abandon for now while I keep pondering on it. The identity example serves me to bring you the latest news about life in the boatyard, although in a very elaborate way. This blog used to be about sailing but this deviation toward self questioning and rumination has been evident for quite a while now. Thanks for your patience. Sailing will resume as soon as possible.

Why all this fuss about identity?

I’ll answer saying that is a conceptual element that always puzzled me. I never bought the assumption that we have a true identity that define us and that we have to discover, or better assume.

Take first names. They are the first element of identity, clearly stamped on an ID card. You didn’t even pick it yourself, somebody gave it to you even before they could know anything about you. How much a Fabio am I in the end? This is a silly example that shows how identities are imposed by family and society, they depend on the fortuitous place you happened to be born in and often times they all clash with whom you really are. I can continue bringing more evidence. Are you defined by your job title? Your nationality? The color of your skin? Your gender? Your bank account balance?

Of course the answer is yes and no, and that’s why I find this fascinating. Because who we really are is way more vast than our identities, and it is our job to find out. Or not.

Deviation from the route #2

My tiny sailboat Tranquility is going through some serious transformations and I obey as her temporary keeper. Sometimes I believe the fantasy that boats find their servants by mean of seduction. Once they hooked their victim firmly they start to extract resources in form of time, dedication, labor and most of all money. The servant is usually unaware of the asymmetry of power at work and think they are the one in charge of the situation. They are not. However this relationship of convenience is one to be trusted, as usually boats give back love and dedication in time of need.

Likewise this physical transformation of the watercraft I inhabit reflects an inner transformation. I sense that from weak signals I receive from my surroundings. The fun thing about transformation is that we cannot foresee the outcome, or you would not go that way. Once you have the future it is already the past. It is like playing chess, when you know what is going to happen the game is finished and you have to start a new one.

I met a sadhu high in the Himalayan mountains long ago. He was summoned by a guesthouse mate who was very into spirituality and had met the fella on a bus station earlier that week. The guy was thrilled about the meeting and I was hanging around curious about what a mendicant dressed in orange had to say.

The sadhu looked at me in the eyes for five second at most, then uttered these words: “you are about to jump on the next level” or “this life is taking you to the next level” or something like that. The other guy received the response that he was a fresh soul, coming to earth for the first time and he missed to be with god very much. That explained why he was so spiritual at least in my mind. He was trapped in an unfamiliar reality and wanted so badly to be one with god. Then we asked the sadhu what was his duty in this life: he was here to learn how to convey the “grace” (the best word I can recall) not by words as he just did to us but by staring at people in silence.

The colorful scene happening in a cafe of a barren Himalayan village could be just a travel annedocte from long ago. It took me ten years to realize that the transformation he was talking about had happened not even one year after that “prophecy”.

One day of 11 years ago after a conversation with a friend during Easter holiday I quickly took the decision to leave my career, family and friends to move to a Venezuelan archipelago and run a sailboat charter business. We can ponder a lot about if all this is coincidence, self-fulfilling prophecy, magic, destiny and such without getting a spider from the hole (transl. of an idiomatic Italian phrase). What is evident is that the before and the after look quite different from each other, they are two completely separate identities. So which one is the right identity? Both? None?

I’ll borrow an image that Alan Watts borrowed form Buckminster Fuller (feel free to borrow it as well):

“ suppose we have a rope, and one section of this rope is made of manila hemp, the next section is cotton, the next section is silk, the next section is nylon, and so on. Now we tie a knot in this rope—just an ordinary one-over knot—and you find, by putting your finger in the knot, you can move it all the way down the rope. Now as this knot travels, it’s first of all made of manila hemp, it’s then made of cotton, it’s then made of silk, it’s then made of nylon, and so on. But the knot keeps going on. That’s the integrity of pattern; the continuing pattern, which is what you are. Because you might, you know, be—for several years—you might be a vegetarian, and you might be a meat-eater, and so on. And, you know, your constitution changes all the time, but your friends still recognize you because you’re still putting on the same show. It’s the same pattern that is the recognizable individual.”

The pattern stays the same even when conditions change.

If I looked at myself before the event horizon of my departure for Venezuela all I was good in making with my hands was rolling cigarettes and playing basketball. I was a discrete cook, a good basketball player and I smoked way too many cigarettes. In every other department my hands were clumsy, slow and uneffective.

In my childhood I used to play with my father’s tool. In the courtyard of the apartment building where I grew up I would shape scrap pieces of baseboard into medieval swords and play with other kids, or cobble up a rubber band slingshot out of wood, nails and clothes pins. It excited me but I quickly lost interest in working with my hands. I substituted it with daydreaming.

Wasn’t it much better to imagine to be a mechanical engineer and design and build car engines in the comforts of my mind rather going through the troubles of doing it for real? I had landed with both feet in the world of abstraction and I was very happy in it.

What kept me solidly anchored in the world of abstraction was another element. I was fascinated with the study of language. I took pride of reading books when I was a little kid and I would devour many good and not so good novels and stories and when I earned the title of kid who read the most I went to the trouble of lying about reading a long not so exciting novel about a prehistoric saber tooth cat to keep said title. The teacher gave me a pass on that but I remember from a look in her eyes that the jig was up.

Writing was a direct consequence of it. I of course dreamed about being a writer, and particularly a famous novelist. Not a best seller writer but a novelist whom both critics and public praise for depth of thought, irony and for creating marvelous worlds that stretch our sense of reality. Maturity and input from society values quickly made me understand that investing in such a path would be risky in its outcomes and very likely lead to being poor (something tells me that it was my destiny anyway…). I resorted to other occupations, deciding that being a psychologist was a good way to use language for something socially useful and make a living with it.

Life decided otherwise and this process of transformation brought me back to use my hands in conjunction with my mind to transform reality. The smooth surface of my palms began to show sign of hard spots. Knuckles quickly developed wounds one after the other, with open ones taking the place of old scars. My nails became in need of serious cleaning all the time. The perfectly comfortable dreams of designing custom made objects and structures faced the obvious lack of experience, training and skills. I learned that sailing is hard on your hands, and hard on your mind.

This transformation for sure affected the reality of my identity in a deep way and it was not foreseeable when the sadhu spoke to me. If I knew what was going to happen I would have started to ask myself questions, make judgements and ultimately give up the entire idea thinking that I could do better taking a different path. I am happy I did not, because ultimately I am at best marginal if not naive when it comes to making judgement on what’s good or bad for me.

Putting it all together

The liquid consistency of contemporary life finely expressed in language by Zygmunt Bauman certainly affects identity, it stretches boundaries and allows degrees of freedom that were unthinkable in the past. At surface this whole identity business is still chaotic in my mind as I reject definitions of nationality, age and such as important individual traits. However I recently realized that the knot that slides through the imaginary rope, the never changing pattern, the ultimate identity that works no matter what changes I go through in life is the identity of Writer. Writing has always accompanied me and it will, both as an urge and as a pleasure.

The fact that I am without any doubt a Writer is corroborated by at least four other people. One is a talented world creator who weaves poetic images and hallucinatory quests in the realm of fantasy. Another is a published science writer who likes to express his talent in fictional adventures. There is also a professional designer who uses words to draw humorous and moving pieces. Finally, a student and teacher of language in a rogue mission to shock and awe you through a mix of erotism and wit. They are the Rebel Writers, and I am a proud member. The proof that I am a writer is that I belong to this group of writers, because only writers, and a very special kind, are allowed.

Whatever the next level, whatever transformation is happening I will keep writing about it.

Estuarine Ode

By fabio@lapossibilitadiunisola.com | March 31, 2020 | Comments 0 Comment

Beneath spanish moss and up in reeds

My soul runs over

moments of wonder

Communion of intentions breeds

A place unifies souls

Another tears them apart

The recursive spiral path

From tender love to brawls

Whatever longing I trace

Cools down and dies

Where the huge owl flies

And the storm takes place

Binding metal hoops sink

In a muddy tidal pool

As I emerge anew

Grieving songs unwind

Ceremonies over and over

Witness the ascending of soul

And take me past the shoal

Where reigns the plover

In mud and tide and sweat

Gnats and dust above

The juicy terroir of love

Forgiven is all debt

Spent passions fertilize

The ground I walk on

In mud I bury the carrion

All things the tide equalize

New structures sprout

Over good old bones

While a solid form arises

A bird of prey comes out

On a ocean journey I go

Transforming once again

All the crap I am carrying

Away I vow to throw

Visiting the Island of Self

By fabio@lapossibilitadiunisola.com | May 1, 2018 | Comments 10 comments

I just finish reading Silence by Thich Nhat Hanh. Kate introduced me to the author through the book True Love that she brought with her onboard. We sometimes read the book together and we got into the habit of using some of its formulas during every day difficulties, or when we want to acknowledge something good. We learned to call each other “Dear One” and few of the passages were also read as vows during our marriage in front of family and friends.

I enjoyed Silence, Thich Nhat Hanh writes in a very simple and direct way and provides precious stories from which he draws lessons, little examples and suggestions that help in every day life. It also contains a powerful message.

Despite what society tells us, solitude and silence are good for us.

Even on our boat, anchored in a peaceful lagoon and isolated by most of the noise and banter of society, we are constantly seeking distraction or entertainment. When we are not working or doing chores we read, listen to podcasts, watch movies and TV series or stare at our phones. We pretend we are learning, or that we are keeping up to date with cultural novelties and world news. In reality we are filling up our minds with other people’s words, and we have no space left to listen to ourselves.

We lost the ability to be in silence and just witness the moment in front of us. We feel boredom, that nothing special or nothing interesting is happening, and that instead every moment has to be exciting, riveting, full of awe. A ray might leap in the air few yards from our boat and we don’t see it because we are reading about the White House Correspondents Dinner.

It’s very difficult to pick what’s most important when we have an infinite menu of options and the result is that we rarely just stop and appreciate the moment because there is something new to try. Doing nothing is still labeled to be uneconomical or a luxury, but being distracted by entertainment is instead advertised to us from many outlets.

Even for us who voluntarily remove ourselves from most of the stimuli and obligations of everyday life, it is hard to accept that sitting and do nothing but breathe is part of human nature.

We can make yourself busy only to a certain point on a boat, then we run out of options. We can’t easily go to the movies, meet people in bars, join a yoga class, but we can still avoid the present moment thanks to technology like smartphones, computers and bluetooth speakers.

The book explains how to accept and embrace the moments of silence, to look for them during the day, to come back to yourself many times a day, so you don’t forget the steps that leads to your inner space. This concept of sacred inner space particularly strikes my chord. Thich Nhat Hanh writes about what the Buddha calls “the island of self”: A space within ourselves that is nourishing and calming, where we seek refuge and comfort.

If when things go well we take care of this island within ourselves, then when problems arise, it will be a well suited harbor to deal with our struggles or to simply rest and recover. It is important to regularly visit this inner space and deal with the things that live there, or else, in the time of need we will find it is an unfamiliar place and we will not feel at ease. We would have nowhere to go and will direct our attention outward, eager for a distraction from our problems

I visited many islands in the physical world we call Earth. Living on a boat and knowing how to sail help to visit these far away places. Most of them, despite the difference in size and landscape are characterized by what visitors call with irony “island time”, the perception that thing happens at a different pace, sometimes with different mindset.

The more a community is remote and isolated, the more it creates and transmits a unique culture and character. People coming from the mainland are attracted and repulsed by this atmosphere, they like to bathe in it for holiday time, but then they run back to the comforts and strict schedules of their lives.

Isolation has an important role in the scientific theory of evolution. Divergent evolution and speciation happen when a reproductive barrier like a geographical division separates a small group from the main population. Change and mutations happen at a faster pace in isolated communities, and this creates the emergence of diversity or even bring to the creation of a new species. Isolation favors evolution and enhance individual characteristic that are diluted in larger population. Individuals and their unique expression matter a lot more and can drastically change the World.

If we learn to sit and be still and enjoy being here, we can listen to the change that we want to see in ourselves and in the world. We can become authentic, find our own words, inhabit our psyche.

I am already trying out some of the suggestions from the book in my everyday life, and try to share them with Kate too. We soon instituted the silence moment, when podcasts or music are not allowed and phones are put away.

We already noticed that we engage in more meaningful conversations that have nothing to do with immediate concerns or schedules when we are embraced by silence. Also we accept and encourage moments of solitude, silence, practicing the most important skill needed to live together on board: staying out of the way.

Kate and I both need personal space and that can only be achieved by paying attention to each other. Knowing that the consequences of our actions will influence the other is the first thing to reduce our negative impact on the peace of mind of the people who surround us.

When we visit the Island of Self we are making space inside and around us, and every little extra space is gold on our tiny sailboat.

Blue water, green land

By fabio@lapossibilitadiunisola.com | October 8, 2014 | Comments 2 comments

It’s been a while now since last time we went cruising. I am lucky enough to go out for quick daysails with James Baldwin on his F27 trimaran in St.Simons Sound. Tranquility is chained to the dock, her interiors are torn apart once again, tools and building materials scattered all over and a rich ecosystem of sea creatures is growing on her hull.

The long-term landlubber world is back with sweet and sour feelings. The awe for huge size fridge and freezer, water and ice dispenser, laundry anytime, full size shower and wide spaces is slowly disappearing and fading behind the curtains of normality and habit.

From this safe and comfortable territory the visions of the open ocean are haunting me. As frequently happens for the process of remembering, which is bounded to the sense of smell, what keeps stalking me is the smell of blue waters. Out there, starting dozen of miles from the coast and extending to thousands, there is a peculiar smell, a smell of fresh air and spindrift, a smell of gliding birds and jumping fishes, a smell of biomass drifting just below the surface busy in their photosynthesis and cellular respiration cycles, a smell of clouds and winds and evaporation and condensation. This is blue water smell.

When you miss something you start to recognize its value. That’s how I feel now that we have to stay on land for some more time, looking for a future departure that has not a date yet. The comforts of life in the society are not enough to nourish a soul who experienced the blue water. I feel that too much comfort is killing me.

But life on land is not without pleasures. I am enjoying having breakfast in the backyard, in company of a wide range of color and sounds. The squirrels are busy running up the pecan trees, birds are quietly scooting around, flying bugs patrol the weeds. Behind the fence I face while sipping my coffee lays a whole universe of intricate vegetation. This adjacent lot is part of the priopriety but has gone fallow, and when that happen in South Georgia you have to expect a massive uncontrolled growth. And so, among the duties of a busy land life and the never ending boat works, we are fashioning to embark in a new adventure: recapture the jungle and make it livable, ensuring a good level of biodiversity and creating a little and safe niche for human activities.

Safe Backyard facind the jungle © Kate Zidar — Safe backyard facing the jungle © Kate Zidar

The first step of this adventure started cutting the combination lock of the gate with the grinder. Once the access was granted we started the exploration of the jungle and made our own way to the creepy shed buried into the vegetation. Inside the shed we found any kind of treasures, including a couple of chairs to add to the collection of the backyard, more tools for the garden, building materials, a lots of other items all piled in a chaotic way. After this first incursion, we withdrew behind the safe line of the fence to elaborate a future attack strategy.

This gardening adventure is keeping my mood up from the blues of blue water nostalgia as I am elaborating a personal project: I would love to make a place for Zen meditation practice inside the garden. I think it’s a good way to immerse myself in the nature and temporarily substitute the smell of blue water with the smell of a garden. The presence of nature is very important to me, there I find real comfort in this increasingly industrialized and technological society.

The dream boat

By fabio@lapossibilitadiunisola.com | August 14, 2014 | Comments 10 comments

I am expert in sanding. I can’t say I have a formal training but I achieved many hours of hands-on the job. Wood, metal, fiberglass, epoxy, I dragged sanding paper of different grits on many surfaces wrapping it around fingertips, hands, blocks or machines. Some times it’s a precision job that requires eye-hand coordination and caution. Some times it requires brute force and endurance. But the main skill to achieve a quality finish is to be focused and present while doing the job. Of course this is valid for every human activity but it’s particularly difficult when sanding.

Sanding is mainly a slow and repetitive task, even when using power tools. It is also a labored task, that requires more mental and physical toughness than one could suspect. When you sand for hours it’s not a big deal. You gather your patience and you actively watch the progress of your work, adjusting your action to achieve the perfect finish.

If you are busy with extensive surface restoration or large paintjobs you may need to sand for days. In this stage it’s important also to divide the work in little areas and make sure you complete one job before moving to the next one. Concentration is very important.

When you are restoring every surface on several different projects that’s weeks and weeks of endless sanding with several passages over certain areas to blend everything together in a smooth composition. At this stage you establish a deeper connection with the surface you are working on. You start to notice that objects have singular details and characteristics and you may think you are bonding with them.

When you are counting your sanding time in the order of months it’s a survival situation. Just stay alive and don’t lose your mind!

When I was living in New England I was a dedicated participant of Zen meditation groups. The technique can simplistically be described as mind training in self-awareness: observing thoughts as they wander in different directions without fighting them but trying instead to bring the focus back to the present situation, here and now, that usually is you sitting on a cushion inside a room with other people staring at a wooden floor.

The natural tendency of the mind is to keep weaving an internal conversation, putting in line positive or negative judgments about ourselves or other people, entertain with stories about the past or dreams about the future. The meditation setting and the constant practice have the purpose to give you some rest from the unstoppable noisy chatter of your mind, and to let it dissipate allowing yourself to reach a primitive state of no-mind, the “don’t know mind”.

After too much sanding in boat restoration projects my mind broke loose of all the Zen techniques and started to escape rushing in a daydream modality. I failed in redirecting my concentration, and instead of engaging in a useless fight I encouraged this spontaneous roaming, as a prototypical member of Homo Ludens (alternatively, “Playing Man”) species would do.

There is no life I know

To compare with pure imagination

Living there, you’ll be free

If you truly wish to be

Willy Wonka

After some time I noticed that this ludic vagabonding has its center in a main topic: building the perfect cruising yacht having an unlimited budget. I am not proud my thoughts gravitate spontaneously to a complete pointless activity: I don’t have an infinite budget and it seems nobody is willing to grant me such a sum. As if that was not enough I should aim my thoughts and energy towards a more realistic target: improve Tranquility and make her a good boat to sail ocean passages.

So even if the power of imagination provides me with an unlimited budget, a team of expert designers and boat-builders working for me I am not envisioning a 100ft luxury yacht with all the luxuries and toys on the market. I am a modest dreamer and I can see in this world of imagination is a 38ft cutter rigged mono hull named Arctic Tern.

She would be a fast cruiser, with the minimum internal living space to comfort for a 2 adults who may get 4 more people as guests. Artic Tern has a narrow beam and her lines are very close to the waterline. She would be as light as possible and built using composite materials, with Kevlar for the underbody and areas of great stress, and carbon fiber for the rest. All the systems would be simple, although built to the highest standard and quality. A simple and solid and safe sailing machine comfortable for ocean passages and that can sail fast enough to make the experience enjoyable. Even if this project is “modest” compare to what’s actually sailing the ocean nowadays, it will be several hundreds of thousands dollars or even a million. But this is not a problem as in the world of imagination I can spend all the money I want to get the perfect boat.

There is no perfect boat, no matter how much money and good ideas you have. I feel this wandering through imaginary worlds is giving me relief from the hard truth I am facing. My boat is kind of slow and pretty cramped for two people, and I can’t afford to hire specialists to upgrade her to the maximum extent. I have to be the specialist so it’s better to study (and dream) as a specialist. The more I dream about non-existent boats the more I get ready and learn about real boats and different designs.

Tranquility is giving me the hardest task: the budget is very tight as well as the space on the boat. On Tranquility there is no room for surplus or amenities, everything must be essential and some times having fewer choices is harder.

The dreams are on everyday, I can’t have control over them. Sometimes is Artic Tern knocking at the door, or Tranquility rebuilt anew or fast trimarans, dinghies and other imaginary crafts. I am starting to accept the visions as they uncoil behind my eyes, they snatch me and then leave me behind with wide open eyes, making me wonder if I already sanded that surface of the boat or not.

Not all those who wander are lost – J.R.R. Tolkien

The Grand Plan

By fabio@lapossibilitadiunisola.com | February 10, 2014 | Comments 4 comments

Slowly, thoughts about the future arise from the fog of the present. It is a real fog, like the one that surrounds the Golden Isles during winter. From our boat we observe the foggy mornings and evenings, these interstitial moments that keep on hold the passage between nights and days.

We are recovering from our trip. It’s not a physical recovery I think that has already happened. I am talking about the recovery from escaping winter and from our first cruising together, me, Kate and Tranquility.

This trip was very demanding. We sailed in cold weather, on a boat we have never sailed before and that we fixed all by ourselves. We also encountered challenging moments onboard as running a boat depends on a good interpersonal coordination and this is also something we are finding along the way. Everything went extremely good but the trip took its toll.

The fog is where we are hiding now, resting and meditating. Gathering all the resources to open a new chapter. Tranquility is patiently waiting for more upgrades to come. She is also probably tired of us too and we avoid touching her. There are budget restrictions of course, as we are still doing it on a shoestring and that’s also why the work has not happened yet. But it’s true that after the hurry to launch and get away from the cold weather we have the chance to think more deeply on what we need to happen to improve Tranquility. When the wind blows away the fog we start to see a Grand Plan and we are struggling to catch it before it vanishes again.

Storage

This is Tranquility’s Achilles heel. We are carrying too much stuff and at this time we don’t have good storage solutions. We hope that soon we can let go of very bulky winter clothes that literally saved our life but that are becoming less and less necessary.

The V-Berth became our throw-in space but now we need some serious carpentry work to lock objects in place and allow easy access. We are envisioning two long shelves that run on both sides on the V-Berth and that can accommodate storage boxes and light objects. We can dig more storage spaces adding a shelf on the quarter bunk and opening areas in the dinette, as well as reconfiguring the navigation desk. But the key would be to get rid of unnecessary weight and redistribute it along the boat. Keep it simple.

Electrical system

I am reconsidering the idea to step down to a single battery bank that operates both the engine and the appliances adding voltage converters. This will reduce the number of batteries from 10 to 8 without losing too much power. Thanks to the donation of a solar tracker mount we will be able to fit a 60W solar panel on the stern rail.

Plumbing

The repair of the leaky water tank under the v-berth is now a priority. 25 more gallons will give us at least one week of basic autonomy during passages, extending considerably our sailing range. The hook up of seawater in the plumbing system it’s another upgrade we are expecting to complete. Even if it’s not a priority right now that we are in a marina, it will be crucial when we sit at anchor for long periods.

Sails & Rig

Our sail set performed very well in the North Atlantic. Our sail wardrobe is suitable for medium to strong winds, but we lacking in the extremes. We need sails for lighter winds (Code 0 and Asymmetrical Spinnaker) as well as storm sails for extreme conditions (you never know). To accept this upgrade we have to rig up a trysail track and a whisker pole on the mast and place a mini-bowsprit on the bow.

Self-steering gear

We can’t do a long passage without a self-steering solution anymore. It’s too tiring and unnecessary. A good wind autopilot it’s a lot of money but sooner or later has to land on Tranquility’s stern, we hope we won’t leave Brunswick without one. It will couple with an electronic tiller-pilot when we need to motor or when the apparent wind is not enough to operate the wind vane.

Safety

Our stanchions and lifeline need a proper reinforcement at the deck level, as well as most of the deck hardware. We are also designing modifications that will transform our dinghy in a lifeboat, adding closed cell foam collars to increase buoyancy and prevent capsizing.

Comfort

We ordered new “luxury ultra-firm” foam for our mattresses. We decided to leave Fairhaven with the old set but the foam lost all the firmness and sleeping is not very comfortable. We understand now that small luxuries make a huge difference on a boat, especially when they concern health and comfort.

This is the Grand Plan as it’s forming in our minds. The details are not revealed yet as they unveil as we proceed. We hope to conclude these enhancements before the end of the summer, to have some buffer time for tests and further adjustments. The list seems pretty small but as we know it will expand in endless tasks, tedious preparatory work and sure annoyances. At that point, if we survived we should be ready for the wind and the ocean.

Zen and the art of bringing the scale back to zero

By fabiobrunazzi | September 17, 2012 | Comments 0 Comment

I’ve survived a two days zen retreat last weekend. Being a beginner I had no clue how hard and disciplined a retreat in a Zen monastry can be. My longest sitting has always been 1h30minutes once a week and being in a meditative modality for two entire days it was like climbing a mountain without an adequate training. But I did it! Thanks to the perfect leadership of the Zen Providence Center’s staff, to the pure energy of the Teacher Nancy and to the presence of many beginners like me I survived this hard test.

I bring home countless insights and a renewed energy from the retreat and also a very beautiful image that has the power to describe exactly the effect that Zen meditation has on me.

In one of the rare breaks during the retreat I started to read a book of Zen Master Seung Sahn. It was about the letters he exchanged with many students in the years of his teaching. In one of these he uses a wonderful metaphor. Seung Sahn says to a student that we are like a scale that has a natural balance in the zero, the end of the scale. When we weigh an object the needle reaches the position corresponding to the weight of the object. When we remove the object from the scale the needle returns to zero. Zero is the position of peace and perfect balance before thinking, that is, when we are free from delusions, situations and suffering. Whenever we go through a situation, an event, an emotion the pointer moves to indicate the weight. If other thoughts and emotions are added before we unload the scale may break. Practicing meditation helps to go back to this state so we are able to face new challenges and hassles without breaking down.

Subscribe to our mailing list