Thanks to the insanely great Trafalgar Sailing School, my hopes to do the Day Skipper in February have come a whole month early, quite by suprise. Defying all rationality finance-wise to get down there and do this thing, I’m flying out in 13 hours to M?ɬ°laga, Spain, taking a bus to La L?ɬ?nea de la Concepci?ɬ?n and walking to Gibraltar. Imagine this as a straight line.
No time for idle chit-chat though, time to get organised!
nick.
Ok, so that’s a little bit dramatic, I admit. If I die because I don’t get to do my Day Skipper, then I’ll never get to go on the trip, and this blog will become redundant. Sometimes this blog is the only thing that keeps me going (boohoo). But enough of the melancholy attitude already.
When it comes to receiving email, I sometimes get really wonderful letters out of the blue. And when I say it ‘warms the cockles of my heart’, I actually mean it (as opposed to saying it out loud, just to hear my best Irish accent). Today was no exception, with a encouraging letter and blog post from Jane - Thank you!
I made a commitment to do my Day Skipper certificate in February, and as you may or may not know, I attempted to raise $1500USD to pay for it two months ago. This scheme raised 25% of the funds, however part of the deal was, pledges would only come through if the entire amount was raised.
That being said, I will still do that damn course in Feb as promised, even if I have to start baking cookies to sell at the Brandenburg Gate. I’m a terrible cook, so failing that I’ll be selling the contents of my house - Keep your eyes peeled on eBay for bargains on computers, used tea-towels and origami cranes.
All jokes aside, I’ve found somewhere cheaper to do my course, and I need to come up with ?Ǭ£500 in exactly one month. You may be wondering how I managed to pay for the boat, yet now can’t even get ?Ǭ£500 together: Well, I spent six months neglecting Visa and personal loan payments, that’s how. I came very close to spending the next 7 years in BCH (bad credit hell).
So, if you need any software or websites built, cars cleaned, or socks knitted in pearl stitch, I’m your man: For ?Ǭ£500 I can do anything, and I’m being serious. Alternatively if you have any better ideas than me on the topic of coaxing money out of stone, I need you to jump up and down, but with your hands firmly on the keyboard and write me an email.
Time to start my baking lessons,
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.
While I am on a self-imposed book ban, I couldn’t help but purchase the infamous Joshua Slocum book ‘Sailing Alone Around The World’ - The first man to circumnavigate the world singlehandedly.
I also excitedly bid on a book from eBay, only to find the seller had a whole stack he wanted to get rid, including:
Among the lot are some charts for the British southern waters. There are also other odds and ends in the box, with a total of 20 books. I thought it was a steal at ?Ǭ£40. I talked to the local bookstore (the only English bookstore on my side of town) and the owner was picking up other books nearby, and graciously picked the lot up from Bath UK and is bringing them back to Berlin next week.
In other news, my fridge has broken, and with me being the 1Euro a day man, living on bread and pasta, I refuse to get it fixed. For some reason the freezer section works perfectly, it’s just the main compartment which is broken. So I’ve moved everything into the freezer, and have become the ‘Human Thermostat’. I’ve worked it so I turn it on in the morning for an hour, and again in the afternoon. I’ve forgotten a few times, with the butter and milk freezing. Thankfully my new pickled Herring interest is still maintainable because … Saltwater doesn’t freeze.
I have organised to go see the boat in the next week or two, which coincides with a friends birthday in London, and work commitments.
Tchuss, Nick.
So the last few days have just been really difficult, as I come to the terms of the financial commitments I have made, and the difficulties with my work situation. As a contractor, you can only charge for hours worked, and if you have little work, or if the employer doesn’t give proper specifications or details on what they need you to actually do, you just sit there, waiting. And this is what I have spent most of the past few days doing. You may think this might be nice holiday, but in the situation I’m in, it is just a matter of waiting it out, until said employer gets a chance to contact you, carefully watching the clock and your savings click backwards at every stroke. I’ve even been pacing and having the odd midday beer to calm myself down…
I was doing so well on kicking my nail biting habit, with the past few days undoing a week of wrist thwacking and Pavlovian Conditioning lectures to my friends who ask why I have a red mark around my wrist.
Finances aside though, throughout this entire thing I’m really seeing that the actual act of leaving the marina and beginning the journey, is just a small part of a whole chaotic web of interconnections which make up this crazy scheme. It’s the silence of preparation others never witness that should be awarded. This is of course no great revelation, we see it with countless sports people who spend 10 years training to run 100metres and have accolades poored upon them for their ’stunning success’. Even though the real success and mental acrobatics has been consistant and in plain sight for years, we just failed to notice it.
In a perfect world, we would cheer, scream, yell and throw praise every single day for ten years, and humbly shake their hand at the end of their 100metres, not in awe of their speed, but in awe of their consistancy in the adversity of fighting the demons of commitment.
n.
