I’m not even going to apologise for going on all these blog holidays… Actually no, I can’t help myself, I’m terrible, I’m sorry… Apologies also go to all those people who write to me, and get replies weeks later, or have their words drift into binary obscurity as emails back themselves up thirty pages down. So now, from the comfort of the worlds smallest continent, I’ll try and explain.

Two Friday’s ago I had the fun opportunity to talk to a bunch of little people. While I tried to make funny jokes about visiting Columbus’s house in the Canary Islands, and the reason for painting Constellation red was purely to increase her speed, questions about deadly snakes and whether Tasmanian devils really exist abounded. In all reality, I feel that little people are able comprehend killer animals better than small boat voyages - One seems cool, and the other makes little or no sense. At my uncles school I spoke to three classes of third graders about sailing, Australia, venom and geography. It was great fun, and I’ve decided to sell Constellation and invest my money in time machine research, because having your lunch made everyday, getting half day on Friday’s, and playing with toys for 70% of your time, is awesome.

For some reason the above photo is my most viewed on Flickr - If that’s because it looks like a little person is giving me the finger, you’d be wrong - I believe I was actually getting the thumbs up for suggesting the idea that all Australian animals are either weird looking, or trying desperately to kill you.

After nervously standing among the little people to talk, it was soon time to board a Qantas 747-400 back to Australia. Oh! How did that happen? Well, the short of the long, is that one can only stay in America for 6months before overstaying a B1/B2 visa, and potentially never being allowed to re-enter. Don’t mention Canada, because their border doesn’t count for ‘flag poling’ (exiting the country to renew your visa). Therefore I had every intention of visiting Europe, as London was the cheapest destination across the Atlantic, and Australia was out of the question. That was of course until my family pooled all their hard earned frequent flyer points together, and coupled with fees & charges, I managed to buy a ticket for less than a return trip to the United Kingdom. I kept everything hush hush, poised for a great suprise on home soil, and managed to stealthily keep my arrival under wraps and shock those that thought I’d be at least another year until Constellation’s bow bumped into Australia.

It’s been a great reunion, and while I’ve just spent two years and seven months noodling around the planet, all my friends have all been doing exceptionally well in their endeavours, and it’s being such a treat to see everyone after such a long time. I continue to be essentially homeless here, and will remain so until January, when I am set to fly back to chilly New York. I’ve been propped up in spare rooms, childhood bedrooms and friends houses through upstanding generosity over the last week, and must thank all involved (you know who you are).

Coming home has also had its elements of complete strangeness. On the one hand, I need to look at my own photos and pinch myself, in order to make sure I’ve actually done what I’ve said (you know, all that sailing business) - As in, I wonder if I ever left. Yet conversely, I feel like a stranger, trapped in a familiar dream, almost as if I’ve stood still and everyone else has kept walking… Or maybe instead of walking forwards or backwards, I took a left turn down an unnamed street in an unnamed city. Really, I have no idea, and this is probably my jet lag talking… I hate jet lag, and every day at 2am New York time, I want to curl up and hibernate.

So other than general strangeness, what else has changed? Well, it seems everything is 30% more expensive, and by the tone of my friends, their wages have not increased in equal proportion. Which is of course standard story - If you artificially increase the price of things just a little bit more every month, no one notices, and no one complains. There also seems to be a myriad of fresh petty laws, Police Hummvees lining the city streets, and a wave of inner city violence to boot. Maybe it’s connected to the price increase of sausage rolls ($3 guys, where are the protests!) and rent… From the looks of things, the only safe activity these days is to stay at home and play Nintendo Wii.

Anyway, it’s definitely a clear sign of old age when you complain about the cost of living and violent crime… So, before I begin ranting and raving, let’s leave it at that!

More frequent updates on the horizon, promise.

nick.

If you’ve been following this madness for any amount of time, you’ll have noticed I’m always broke. There are a few generous sponsors on the right hand side of this page, and numerous individuals who’ve helped me out, but life hasn’t always been rosy on the high seas. Work has been a constant issue, and living in the USA hasn’t helped - I’m not on a work visa, and so working here is difficult. I won’t go into the technicalities, but trust me, the American visa situation is a maze beyond my cognitive abilities. So when I stumbled across a job that would let me work from anywhere, talk about sailing, and be part of something exciting, I was happy beyond belief. So if things around here have seemed a little quiet, I guess it’s in part to being preoccupied with a job (a nice change).

Say hello to Bluemapia.com, and say hello to a bunch of my photos and videos, geo-referenced all the way from the UK to New York:

Bluemapia is a social networking website dedicated to documenting the globe with photos, videos and useful information for sailors. It’s the place you go to when you’re wondering what an anchorage actually looks like, or are curious to find other sailors who’ve been to the places you’re interested in yourself. I’m under zero obligation to talk about Bluemapia here, but I actually think it’s cool enough to warrant a mention - So if you’re interested, sign up and let me know what you think!

For those not in the northern hemisphere, the cold is definitely upon us. I managed to mostly avoid winter last year by sailing south, but unfortunately Constellation is utterly land bound, and in dozens of pieces this winter. I fear I’ll forget how she goes back together; there seem to be pieces everywhere… Nights on the boat have been cold and uncomfortable. You can (sort of) get away with a tiny boat if you spend the majority of your time outside, and only sleep inside. However, when it’s too cold to be out and about, life becomes slightly maddening. Last week I had a terrible case of cabin fever, and dearly wanted to strap the anchor to my foot, and jump into Long Island sound - As you know, I work on a computer, and with Constellation being such a small vessel, with such a tiny amount of room, trying to be productive onboard for hours a day, is a terribly difficult task (to understand what I’m trying to express here: Try doing your job in a space 8ft long, 5ft high, and 6ft wide, with a computer on your lap). I know I know, there are a ton of staunch small vessel boat owners out there frowning right now, as I tell it how it is: Small boats are great for sailing, but having lived on one for 1.5 years, my patience is waning…

As for that trucking idea (constantly on my mind), it seems this economic issue has diminished the Australian dollar to such an extent against the US dollar, those dreams of overland travel seem to be getting costlier and costlier - As if it wasn’t expensive enough already - Sponsorship is also now a dwindling business, when companies have better things to do with their money (like pay employees), than help Australians with questionable methods of travel…

You’re all yelling ‘Panama Canal, Panama Canal’ in your heads right now… I can hear you from here: But as far as I’m concerned, it’s a terribly normal way of getting around the continent. Not to mention the demoralising problem of sailing over your own wake - Miles gained in a small vessel are painfully gained, and going backwards is soul crushing. The whole overland thing was an idea to do something a little different; something unusual and self-propelled. If you’re one of those that think going over land is ‘cheating’, I think going through Panama is even more so - Tens of thousands of people died for that canal, not to mention all those political issues behind it. In my mind, there are only three legitimate ways of getting around the continent, using your own means: 1) Cape Horn/Straight of Magellan. 2) Overland. 3) NW passage. All those are out of the question in a 26ft boat, except for #2, or of course Panama. Going the Panama route has its own set of obstacles beyond any ethical reasons, and one of those is time: The season to head back to the Caribbean is after the hurricanes, and before the winter gales. That time is right now. However, sailing right now is completely out of the question. I get a lot of email saying ‘hey, why have you stopped sailing, you should keep going!’ and the answer to that, is there are seasons to sailing - You can’t simply sail whenever your heart yearns for a new port, as romantic as that sounds. For example, if you want to cross the Atlantic from Europe, you have from late November till about May to do it (from the Canaries). To sail south from north east USA, you have the first two weeks of November to leave. To cross the Atlantic from the USA, you can do it in May or June, etc etc. So if you miss those dates, you more or less wait for the next season - Ok yes, it’s more complex than that, but that’s the crux of it.

So I feel it’s all a really telling time right now, to work out how things are going to move forward. I seem to have several problems, and few answers… I have considered other options, such as selling up for more livable boat and traversing Panama regardless, but how that could be achieved I have no idea, without adding several years to the voyage. But, if you’d like to own a Contessa 26 in New York, I’m all ears. Haha!

A big hello to John of Yatton in North Somerset

This time last year, I was in La Coruna, Spain.

nick.