Constellation, 25 December, 2006, 19:41: Heater on full, cabin cleaned, shower taken, mainsail packed.

I woke up this morning at 5am, rushed into the forecabin and gasped at the number of presents under the tree. Heaven knows how Santa made it through the skylight hatch, I’m sure it was locked! Nevertheless, I definitely found footprints, and under the tree was everything I needed for my journey. It was difficult unwrapping the Monitor Windvane, but boy, she’s beautiful. How exactly Santa knew which alternator belt I needed as a spare is beyond me, but quite clearly he (or she) is highly intelligent, and even knowledgeable about boating paraphernalia. So everything I needed on my wish list is accounted for. Wow!

Well, needless to say, it was a rather uneventful Christmas day. I woke up and wondered around the yard for awhile looking at boats. Al, the local catamaran owner invited me in for a coffee which was nice, and Chris the flight attendant (who is also a liveaboard) came by, and as it turns out, will be driving to Gatwick in the morning. I’ll be 12 hours early for the flight, but I figure waiting around at the airport is better than waiting around in Southampton if the bus doesn’t work out.

I have double packed the mainsail to bring back to Berlin. Hopefully if the stars align themselves correctly, I will have enough money to drive over to Poland and have a new duplicate made. If not, I’ll make a duplicate myself out of waxed brown paper and sail close to the sun.

Clearly there are several mysterious (minor) leaks on the cabin roof, as a hose down reveals a little fresh water in the bilge, from who knows where. I seem to have figured out that unless you own a brand new Hanse or similar, yachts tend to just have water hanging about the place no matter what you do. Note to self: Pack lots of sponges.

I’ve made a hefty list of things to bring back from Germany next time I come to the boat. The prices here in the UK are out of control. I’ll come back on an overnight bus, and smuggle cheap(er) German parts and materials in large suitcases. To my knowledge, there are no weight restrictions (within reason) on coaches, and while it’s a 24 hour ride, it seems worth the trouble.

So, I’m looking forward to going back to Berlin, going on my detox diet (a week of Christmas mince pies and triple chocolate muffins have taken their toll) and cranking the coal oven.

Merry Christmas to you all

nick.

Constellation, 23 December, 2006, 19:09: Heater on full, two new books in the library, zero public transport on the 26th, baked not fried crisps winning the daily taste war.

Today was my big adventure into Southampton, to find a calling card and investigate bus timetables. On both fronts, the results leant towards the negative end of a rusty battery terminal. Meaning, I couldn’t find a calling card anywhere, and the buses are not even running the day after Christmas, as I had previously thought (as with trains). So, I closely observed the route home, in anticipation of my long walk this coming Tuesday morning. I can only hope it isn’t raining, or I will be boarding Easyjet Flight 00FUN11 sopping wet. Is it just me, or does everything seem incredibly dramatic and arduous when connected to my endeavors?

It was bitterly cold and foggy again today… The kind of weather that does not encourage doing much at all, besides from thoughts of huddling in the corner with a large and difficult book, or prodding an open fire while exchanging hunting stories with old men. Needless to say, the last thing I killed with a gun was quite by accident when I was 14; a wee bird not worth exaggerating for the sake of a worthy tale. So, I stepped off the bus in Southampton right into Waterstones, a large bookstore that has gone down the Borders model of filling the place up with books, and then dedicating a good third of it to selling Latte’s and expensive muffins. But, as with all big stores devoid of a soul, at least you get a decent price (thats the point, right?). I soon walked out with two new paperbacks, skipped around the town twice (for the pesky phone card) found a German Christmas market (and felt at home) selling Gluwein, and decided the Christmas shopping extravaganza was far too much to contend with, and walked straight back to the open doors of a bus heading to the Burseldon bridge. Which brings me to the corner I’m huddled in right now, wrapped up in a sleeping bag with the heater (on full) eating ‘crisps’ (ahem, chips) and aptly enough, listening to ‘Bridge over troubled water’ by Simon & Garfunkel.

So, without further adieu, the wind has picked up, and it is time to fasten the tarpoline on the roof, board up the door, and settle down with a luke-warm cup’o’soup to cook up ‘Nicks half-circumnavigation Plan B’.

(It’s the plan where I sail home with three pounds fifty in spare change, two bananas and a used tea-bag.)

nick.

Constellation, 22 December, 2006, 19:37: Heater on full, decks scrubbed, local pub inspected, and Tesco’s Triple Chocolate Muffins deemed best buy for 2006.

Oh, and I have Constellation’s bill of sale!

I’m usually a little late to the party on these things, but I have unanimously decided all boat owners utterly mad, most certainly require a few weeks in a calm care facility, and damn well need of a stern talking to by someone with a loud voice. These flotation devices are mysterious black holes for just about everything, sucking you dry of any good sense and claiming every last penny, and then some.

For example, it’s a Friday night, and where would any self-respecting 25 year old be? At the pub maybe? Yes, well down to the Jolly Sailor I went for a quiet Fosters (oh, yes, I had my second pint of Fosters ever just a month ago!) only to come tearing back out of the rear entrance for fear of witnessing too much noise and camaraderie. Not to mention the fact there were no bar stools, meaning I would have to awkwardly sit at a table for two, pretending I was waiting for someone… Or worse yet, tapping on my mobile phone so I looked I was messaging said someone, telling them to hurry the hell up. In my haste to exit, I will admit to taking an extra second or two to witness someone eating fish & chips. Such cuisine is scarce if not impossible to find in Germany. If you know of somewhere in Berlin doing a nice piece of beer battered Flake, please pass on the coordinates…

The five mile hike to the local library is becoming tiring, and I only get internet access for a maximum of half an hour at best. I hiked all over country England, looking for an international calling card today, in order to phone home for Christmas, but alas, I found nothing. Daryl and I always have a whinge about Christmas, and it appears karma has the better of me; by trapping me in a leaky boat alone, without access to the outside world for a change. So, I think Christmas is going to be a quiet one… I’m not too fussed for my sake, but it would be nice to call home and say hello, but what to do?

I inspected my rigging today, and I’m convinced the halyards will need replacing. The topping lift looks like it will be gone by the end of winter, breaking exactly when I am standing underneath the boom no less. The standing rigging appears strong, with about two to three inches of adjustability remaining. I don’t know what re-rigging will cost, but I’m sure it will be a lot more money than I currently have (three pounds fifty).

On the issue of money, I need so much of it, it’s becoming depressing. Not including all the small items and repair work required, I have big expensive items such as the windvane, wind generator, EPIRB, new mainsail and certification training costs to contend with. Looking at my web logs, if every unique visitor gave me $5, I’d be out to sea come first sign of summer! But alas, it won’t be that easy… World poverty would have been solved by now if it were. I do need to formulate a financial plan though, or come up with an ingenious sponsorship bid. My two so far have failed, but I’m a dogged and annoying individual so I guess I’ll keep trying. The boat is finally mine though, so I guess I can relax for a week or two.

Over & out from the South of England, where it’s currently 8pm, foggy, and lacking bar stools.

nick.

Constellation, 21 December, 2006, 13:47 : Heater on full, cabin boarded up, three layers plus jacket, two cup’o’soups, one tea, one coffee and three rolls consumed. All water boiled with tea light candles.

I must say, while it is deftly cold here, I like nothing more than a walk in the nearby paddock. Every time I venture out, I could swear the countryside is going to yield a a group of fox hunters on steaming horses pounding out of the forest: I’ll see them first, and then the group will canter over and ask me what I’m doing in the middle of nowhere, to which I’ll exclaim ‘Sailing home!’ Because of my accent, they’ll assume ‘home’ is either South Africa or Australia (both far away) and invite me to their manor for tea, scones and a cigar by the open fire.

The other thing about sitting on a boat alone in the cold, is that you excite an overactive imagination.

However, the reality of it is, I mostly sit around contemplating cockpit drainage, re-seating deck parts with Sikaflex and my new hobby of calculating cost to taste ratios from my encyclopedic memory of the local Tesco’s Extra 24 hour, three hundred mega-hectare supermarket (thats how big it feels). Let me explain: For $1.40 you can purchase 250g of Danish blue cheese on special, which will last many days, because of it’s spreadability and rather strong taste. Another example is ‘Tescos Garlic Sausage’ which is sandwich meat impounded with either real garlic or garlic flavour. Whatever it turns out to be, the bottom line is, it packs a whole lot of taste per slice, meaning instead of using three slices of standard ham, you only need to use one. I know, true value. Other examples may include bottled Olives and Vegemite knockoffs.

But back to boating tales, the true reason you are here. Constellation gave me a very special present this year, to which I am eternally grateful: Several inches of water inside the cabin.

I can’t wait to see what I get next year! (Ahem, I will be on a scheduled route across the Atlantic this time next year, so lets pray Constellation only gives me ‘good’ presents in 2007!)

So, I spent the next 25 minutes pumping the bilge, wondering how the heck so much water got in. For a brief second I thought about pushing the boat off the standing, blaming the boatyard and collecting the insurance for a first class ticket home. Aye, but you know if I’m down to calculating cost to taste ratios, I won’t give up so easily.

I spent two nights huddled in the corner freezing to death. Mum, this is one case where if you said “you’ll catch pneumonia!” you would actually be 100% correct. So off I went to sort out a shore power lead and go back to my favourite three hundred hectare mega-store to find a heater. Even with the heater, its still freezing. To illustrate this, please inspect the ’smoke’ coming out of my mouth. Brrrrr.

But what about the water? Oh, well as it turns out, the cockpit drains into the bilge. Leave the boat long enough… She fills up. What to do? Connect the cockpit drains through a new skin on the transom? I don’t know. But after rummaging through the sail locker I almost slapped myself across the face for not finding the cockpit cover earlier… I don’t know though, it kind of seems logical to think the cockpit would drain on its own and not require covering… But I guess thats my first Contessa lesson for the winter.

I knocked off ‘66 Days Adrift’ all the while eyeing off my raft in the corner, with it looking back at me rather suspiciously. Note the ’six person’ sticker on top - You might think that means it can take six people, but the truth of the matter is, it takes six people to move the damn thing. I pretended there was a small baby trapped underneath, and then used my exponential strength to move it down into the cabin. I’m patiently awaiting the day I trip on the painter cord, and let her rip: Imagine that, blowing Constellation up from the inside because I tripped the raft line. Ha!

My ticket back to Berlin is for the 26th, the day after Christmas. It was the cheapest time to fly around this period, and I’ve worked out why: Its impossible to get to the airport! The train here isn’t running, however the bus is, albeit on a Sunday schedule. I think.

This post took six chilly smoke rings to compose.

nick.