So, the person who bought her, is selling because he doesn’t have the time to do the things he wishes he could with Constellation… With that in mind, she’s a bargain and needs to be sold ASAP. I hope someone with big dreams buys her… Presently she’s up for $17k Australian Dollars, with all the gear that was previously listed. Since new ownership, she has new bottom paint, new dinghy, and some new seacocks.

Here is a video I recently made experimenting with a few things in my video editing software – The last scene is my seeing Constellation for the last time.

Someone who reads this blog, please buy my old boat back and sail her to… Madagascar. Or somewhere similarly far away.

If interested, contact me for details – She is on a mooring in Sydney.

nick.

It’s hard re-adjusting to life on land. The constant drama and adventure of sailing is in the past… It isn’t gone forever, but things are certainly different. So what’s been happening in the aftermath? I seem to have lost some inclination to write, but things are definitely active, post-sailing. Firstly, I’d like to introduce the work of Jack Rath, who has been following me around the planet with a camera. Following is a 6minute trailer of the film he has been shooting on my travels for the last four years. It’s a very strange feeling having a film made about oneself… The film is called ‘Between Home’ & the project website is www.betweenhome.com, if you’d like to keep up to date with its progress.

The film isn’t my only news… The adventure will always continue in one way or another. Please say hello to my new sailing boat ‘Harmony’ –

More photos here

She’s a perfect 32ft long, and has all the wonderful attributes of a solid and trustworthy sailing vessel, much like my dear old friend Constellation… As to where we shall venture – Unlike my last voyage, future sailing will be just as ambitious, yet less prone to deadlines, and specific goals. I have new work commitments involving a freshly formed company with a great friend here in Melbourne, so I’m 100% focused on that at the moment & for the foreseeable future – Yet the very fact of knowing Harmony exists keeps my sense of adventure and connection to the sea alive. The type of sailing I performed with Constellation was to give up everything and concentrate on one single goal for several years – This worked for me at the time, but I plan for my future sailing endeavours to work a little differently. Harmony also resides many thousands of miles away, and I have to thank my friends Adam, Captain Ted and Rob for helping me make the purchase from Australia. Thank you also to Zack the former owner, for being patient and helpful through such a faraway sale.

For those interested in keeping up to date on the goings on of the adventures of Harmony, please click on the drawing of her on www.silentunrest.com. A new website will be announced there when the time is right.

nick.

Thank you to Weide, Stuart, Mark, Benjamin and Lidia for their donations to the sailing kitty – I will be using the donated money to cover the costs of staying longer here in the marina. I cannot stay long, due to the weather situation (I’m always… Late in the season). However I will stay for a bit longer, and think about departing early next week.

The start of my second day with the Red Cross










Recovering a body

More photos online here.
Nick.

Firstly, I have a bunch of people to thank. To begin with… All those great people who sent through donations while I was sailing to Hawaii or sitting in port – You know who you are, but many people don’t: Debbie, Deborah, Terri, Julio, Weide, James, Gillian, TV Navigation, Kevin, Bain… You guys (and girls) are awesome. You all made my life much easier in port – I could afford to provision with some decent food as opposed to junking it with Ramen noodles, which make me utterly miserable. They make Constellation miserable too, because I get cranky and yell into the wind more (like a crazy person). And speaking of nice food – Special thanks to Adam for the Trader Joe’s care package, posted from San Francisco and full of tasty treats.

After my cries at the cost of a new sail to replace my 20 year old UV destroyed genoa… Dave Benjamin of Island Planet Sails, out of Alameda, offered to help with a deep discount on a new cruising genoa. Still stuck for funds, but wanting to take up Dave’s offer and sail off with a reliable sail, my good friends Mari and Paul came to the rescue (again…) with some extra funds. For those who follow regularly, Mari is the amazing person out of Greenport that fed me, lent a car, helped rebuild Constellation and even re-wire her for the Pacific, while I was on Long Island… Paul is my friend from Melbourne whom I had the first chance to talk about sailing many years ago, and who came to visit me in Southampton, and even organise accommodation for me in Melbourne when I visited over Christmas. Two great friends, and a nice sailmaker = Constellation gets a new Genoa… So, that’s the story on why I was waiting around for a new sail. It arrived, and is fantastic… And somehow Dave rushed it through in two weeks. If you’re buying new sails – Let Dave help you, he ships anywhere, makes nice sails, and is a really nice guy. Thanks also to Ken for being the postbox for the new sail, and hand-delivering it to the club.

So… The Hurricane. You can see what it’s up to on my new tracking page. I left Waikiki Yacht Club, bound for Palmyra two days ago, and swiftly turned around. I was spooked, and rushing out because my Visa expired. I called the coastguard and discussed my problem, and then promptly returned to the Waikik Yacht Club – Who’ve been extraordinarily patient with me and my need to stay in port (either waiting for a new sail, or waiting for hurricanes). I erred on the side of caution with Hurricane Felicia, even though I did my fair share of research – Watching historical data, and current modeling. I think I would have been safe to continue my passage, but, it was a risk, and as someone else mentioned – Better to be sitting in port wishing you were sailing, than sailing and wishing you were in port… In a faster boat with crew, it would have not posed a problem. But in a slow boat with no crew, I think maybe it’s nicer sitting at the yacht club, listening to old salts at the bar discuss high winds and surging seas, than have to experience them. As soon as the Pacific basin clears up, I’m outta here. As for my Visa… Customs and Immigration were completely understanding, and even came to my boat to fix up the paperwork and help me out. Nice.

For those curious on where I’m going, and what I’m doing, my route is fairly simple, and I’m looking forward to nice sailing with a perfect wind-angle for my next leg. As already noted, I plan to head for Palmyra first, the small Pacific atoll just over 900nm from Honolulu. Palmyra has a really interesting history, and is currently a Nature Conservancy, run by the US government – Read the Wikipedia page for better information. I’ve been given permission to visit, and can’t wait to enter the reef-shark infested lagoon that has had its entrance blasted out by dynamite, and who’s shores sparkle with blue crabs. Located 6degrees above the equator, the Atoll is 3ft above sea level, drenched in equatorial heat and haunted with ghosts and a curious past. Hiding (supposedly) Spanish bullion and the body parts of a double murder, Palmyra is the kind of island I’ve been waiting to visit since the inception of this voyage. Of all the oceans, (as with most people), the Pacific conjures up mystery, intrigue and a phenomenal sea-fairing history. I simply can’t wait to explore these odd places that are virtually inaccessible except by private vessel. After Palmyra, I hope to visit Western Samoa, and then hop across to Fiji and then I don’t know… Maybe the (also) strange Lord Howe Island before Sydney… But we’ll take it one island at a time.

Since I’m land-bound again, here is a brief video of my first Pacific leg. It isn’t really as comprehensive as my other videos, but you get the picture… And besides, there is only so much film one can make about bobbing around in the middle of nowhere!

Nick.

Special thanks to Jack for the camera, and to Tracy for letting me use her computer for editing!

Fundraising party writeup and trip update/announcement in my next post!

nick.

I’ve put an offer in for $60 American dollars – They tell me the deal is pending…!

Constellation is that tiny boat you can see through the trees.

After my walk, I found a beautiful little beach:

I sat down for a few hours, and read Thor Heyerdahl’s wonderful Kon-tiki. I felt terribly guilty just sitting there on the white sand when Constellation was in need of preparation, however those feelings soon departed, as I began the construction of a raft out of flotsam and let it drift away in the bay.

Walking back, I wondered why I wasn’t anchored over on the other side of English harbour, where I could go swimming everyday. I’m told Lord Nelson woke up every morning, and promptly had six buckets of water thrown over him, for his ‘daily hygiene routine’. After that he drank a quart of goats milk, and then complained about the mosquitos of the previous night, loudly exclaiming “damn this infernal hole!”, so the entire harbour could hear. However, I’m sure as the day went by, even Lord Nelson must have grown to appreciate his surroundings again. So I decided for my hygiene routine (and, I must admit, I haven’t had a proper shower since Las Palmas in Gran Canaria, circa the 26th of March) – The closest I’ve come (under strict and self-imposed sweet water conservation rules) is the dumping of 2 litres squarely over my head – A mere three times since that fateful day in March. So, while I couldn’t afford, nor find a personal hygiene assistant, what I needed was a daily swim. I guess that explains why Jack left so quickly… Here is my public apology!

Really, that’s the colour of the water. Promise.

I edged up as close as I could to the beach, next to this beautiful Cornish Trader, owned by ex-merchant seaman Peter, from the white cliffs of Dover:

I swam over and circled his boat to check it out, thinking it looked like a beefed up Cornish Crabber, which I guess is exactly what it turned out to be. Built in 1979, Peter bought ‘Rainbow’ brand new, and upon asking when he crossed the Atlantic, he looked at me sheepishly and said ‘1989′. Ha! He’s been sailing up and down these islands and the East coast of America ever since. I think he was rather excited to have met an Australian, and kept mentioning the cricket (which was currently playing on his TV in the cabin). Unfortunately when it comes to popular sports, I know very little. He kept mentioning players and cricket grounds, and I nodded agreeably with everything he said, blissfully ignorant of how good a player Brian Lara really was.

As we sat drinking tea, an enormous Catamaran with fifty drunken tourists came speeding up to our private paradise, as if attempting to play ‘chicken’ with our stationary boats. It proceeded to beach itself in the sand, and let loose it’s store of pasty white tourists into the bay. After the noisy tourists left, a turtle swam by the boat, with what must have been fifty years of growth on its back. Someone should introduce him to International Antifoul.

During my daily hygiene routine, with a set of goggles on, I came across a pile of chain underneath my boat. I spent 20 minutes diving down to find each end of it, thinking it was probably a mooring. I was pleasantly suprised to find it had two stainless steel shackles on the end of it, and wasn’t attached to anything! It’s diameter was enormous, and weighed a ton – Constellation could probably anchor off the chain alone, with nothing on the other end! Getting the dinghy over, I hauled it up, to the suspicious eyes of the boats around me, who I’m quite certain thought I was a mooring thief. Not wanting to be labeled ‘The Great Ground Tackle Pirate of English Harbour’ (or rather, wanting to named exactly that, but afraid of its consequences), I dropped the chain and got back to my boat. At dusk I dived down and attached one end underwater to my existing chain, and will pull up my anchor when I leave, quite innocent of the fact that there is a loose 12mm length of chain attached to it. So, while I was worried about my lack of chain (remember, 35ft was all I could afford, at $2.76 a foot, duty free), I now feel confident Constellation could sit rock solid in full hurricane strength winds, and I could sit onboard cooking pasta, oblivious to the carnage and uprooted trees being flung past my port window.

I previously mentioned my camera had died on the Atlantic, which it had (it’s alive again after I hard rest it). I managed to take a few photos, and found this video looking to the stern of Constellation. Other than the footage on the video camera, it’s all I have, and sorry for not making it pretty or editing it – But you get an idea of what it’s like out there:

While this has all been going on, I’ve been chipping away at the tasks that need to be done on Constellation, and also spending a lot of time collecting information for my trip up to New York. I’ve been assisted greatly by several Americans and Canadians, and now feel much more confident about what I’m doing and where I’m going. Not having any almanacs or cruising books on the area, I was really at a loss of what to do – I felt grossly underprepared. Nevertheless, I now have an enormous amount of information, from tidal data, charts, and first hand information and advice for my trip into New York harbour. I’ll detail things a bit more in the post I make before setting sail. I said I was going on the weekend, but heck, can I have one more day in paradise before I break back into 40 degree latitudes? I think so.

Monday it is.

nick.

P.S Before I forget, I haven’t blown the money I raised over the Atlantic on electric winches or rum parties – Jack had the idea of attempting to raise the remaining $275 to buy a full bridge with my North American voyage of 1552nm. So that’s what I’m going to do – The $400 already raised is in a separate savings account with a rum lock on it. A ‘rum lock’ is a special option now offered by Lloyds TSB to poor sailors, smugglers and misfits.

P.P.S Thanks to everyone on the subscription list that responded to my ’spamming’ in order to test that things were working again. If you’re on the subscribe list, and are reading this but didn’t receive a notification… Please let me know.

The last post on my Lisbon to Canaries trip was written while at sea, and didn’t truly encompass the final leg into port, so here is a little more information on my arrival.

I was so anxious in the final day of sailing to get into port, I couldn’t busy myself with anything other than writing a post for the website, or fidgeting with the sheets in the cockpit, anxiously wondering if the objects in the horizon were actually becoming bigger or not. The wind had swung around to the south, and ‘August the mighty Yanmar’ was on duty to get home, Constellation having crawled to a halt, with me just wanting to tie up and go to sleep as soon as possible. It seemed to take forever to round Isleta, and when I finally arrived, I became absolutely disorientated, with huge tankers and pilot ships steaming in and out at three in the morning. It’s a really simple entry, but I was just so tired, lights blinking everywhere, and a myriad ships to steer clear of, I couldn’t quite work it all out. I contemplated just setting the ‘Windy the Windpilot’ back on duty and sailing back offshore until daybreak, but I just couldn’t do it. After ten days, land was just there… I could see it. Tenerife was on the horizon, with ferry’s chugging past my stern, so I decided to just do the night entry and get it over and done with. Eventually I was so frustrated, I put Constellation in donut mode (lock the tiller to port, engine in tick-over so you simply circle going nowhere) and went down below to sort things out navigationally. I programmed a two-leg route and just followed it into harbour, which all became clear after about ten minutes. I tied up to the visitor pontoon, and felt distinctly depressed. I have no idea what I expected to feel or experience, but it was like running an ultra marathon with nothing at the finishing line, except a dusty old cactus and a hand painted sign saying ‘Caribbean, 3000 miles to go’.

I disembarked onto dry land for the first time in ten days, and felt land sick. I swayed a little and walked around to check the marina out. For some reason I just saw really big yachts, and felt even more depressed. I instantly thought ‘oh, it’s that kind of marina’. So I went back to the boat and curled up to sleep. At 9am on the dot, there was a tapping on my cabin roof, with some stern looking harbour master telling me to register and pay at the office. I just wanted to throw a wash board at the guy and go back to sea; after all that tension over ten days to get here, it all just really sucked. I can’t think of a more eloquent way to describe it. I registered and signed about five hundred forms with alternating signatures, just to be annoying. At least the Spanish are a notch down from the Portuguese when it comes to paperwork, but still, really, I’m an EU boat with an EU passport. Who cares? Just let me in already, borders are so last century.

I got my pontoon, and moored bow-to. The mooring here is stern-to, but as I’ve said before, I never back into places with the steering gear on rear end. Luckily some friendly people on the pontoon helped me dock, as ’slime line’ mooring can be difficult singlehanded. There is a technique for it, but there must have been 20kts of wind blowing from the stern, which wasn’t assisting me in any way whatsoever. After getting safely tied up, I looked around to see what the vibe was. For the first time on my trip, I was surrounded by what seemed like permanent liveaboards. Clearly Constellation and I had been pidgeon-holed into the gypsy stereotype, and I was set among my brethren. I guess it beats being moored up next to the 120ft multi-million dollar ketch from Guernsey…

Below is a really short film (requires latest Flash player if you just see a blank space) with just some quick clips of my Canary trip. It has music playing to it, so if you’re in an office, turn the speakers down… Your boss doesn’t appreciate you watching clips about sailing. You might get crazy ideas! The conditions were not all as placid as they are shown in the clip, but one hardly runs for the camera when other things must be tended to.

The day of my arrival coincided with Jack arriving. What timing! I had been calling home on the satellite phone to pass on the message that I was going to be at least a day late, however on on the 9th day I was making such good progress I changed my ETA to ‘early on the 26th’. It was nice to have a friend around after such a long period alone, having only my engine and windvane to talk to since Lisbon. Jack was really great, feeding me delicious food, and even renting a car to explore the island with, which was amazing. I rarely get to go inland, and I also rarely get to drive. Therefore I was able to get two years of non-driving crammed into two days. I believe Jack will continue to walk around with his hands held in front, in a motion that may suggest ‘I am just resting my hands on the dash, I don’t really think they will assist my survival in an accident at this speed, but it makes me feel safe’.

For those that haven’t been to the Canary Islands, all I can say is: Wow. I arrived here with no expectations (the best way to be; you’re always impressed), and was just utterly amazed by the landscape. It was almost too incredible to appreciate. The weather here is perfect too, around 24degrees during the day, and 19degrees during the night. At long last, after all my complaining, I have finally hit the warm latitudes… The water is a nice temperature too, and if you ever come here, go direct to Agaete, it’s amazing.

I wanted to film a Western with Jack in the mountains, but alas time didn’t permit, and both of us had forgotten our guns and horses back at the boat anyway. I was constantly looking for props for the film (tumbleweeds etc), and our only piece of costume was a garishly coloured ‘Havana Club’ cowboy hat we found on a park bench the day before, clearly forgotten after a long Saturday night at the Carnival (I forgot to say, it’s festive season here!). We both felt the film could win awards, however in the end, we decided to go swimming at the beach instead.

Jack left for Berlin today, and I managed to drive back unassisted from the Airport without having an accident… Remember, I’m from Australia, so I was driving on the wrong side of the road. I feel a little bit hollow after the tense time at sea, having someone around for the past five days, and now this, just a quiet existence in the marina again. I have a reasonable amount of work to finish off before I leave, however I am tentatively looking at departing for the Caribbean on the 10th of February. I have some significant route changes planned (no, they don’t involve Cape Horn!), but there is no use talking about them until I make some decisions… I will have absolutely run out of money again once I hit the other side of the Atlantic, so that will be the third time I´ve gone broke since I began my trip. First it was in Amsterdam, then La Coruna, and soon the Caribbean – Third time lucky! So, in the next few days, I’ll write another update about all about the excitement that surrounds my preparations for 30+ days in a bathtub on the high seas, on a dollar a day!

nick

Here is a short video made up of terrible clips from my digital camera… It has nothing to do with the work of the DNR-Productions video (you can tell!).

The port of Scheveningin is still a working fishing port, which is nice because the marina is simple and original – So many of the marinas are newly built and highly commercial, so it was nice to be near the North Sea trawlers and be in a harbour with normal boats, instead of being moored up with 62ft Hallberg Rassys, that rarely go outside of the canals. Special thanks to Mira for having an address for me to forward mail to, as well as for the extra funds and vitamins to fight off scurvy!

I left Scheveningin for Stellandam, with my plan to re-enter the canal system due to poor weather over the following few days. It seemed I could sit in a marina waiting for the right weather, or I could just keep moving regardless through the canals – The choice was simple. I sat at anchor in Stellandam after a beautiful day of sailing with all the canvas up with sunny weather.

I successfully made it past Europort, which I think may be the busiest port in the world – I radioed for permission to cross, and was radioed back with confirmation, and then radioed again 30mins later stating that I was making slow progress! After passing through, I made a tack back towards the separation scheme, which Europort control was not particularly happy about, being told in a friendly manner that I should probably change tack relatively soon.

Picking up the channel into Stellandam, I was approached by Dutch Customs. They boarded Constellation, checked my paperwork (bill of sale, SSR, diesel purchase receipts, radio call sign and passports) and searched the boat. They asked where I was going, and I said ‘Australia’ with a straight face, and they didn’t seem particularly suprised, which I thought amusing – One of them simply asked which route I was taking. Having finished up, the speed boat returned to pick up the two Customs officers, and bumped the toe rail of Constellation fairly hard – I am now annoyed to see half of the rail is now disconnected from the hull, meaning I will need to remove it all, epoxy the screw holes and re-mount it. Not only that, but the officers insist on wearing big black boots, therefore putting dark scuff marks all over my deck! Constellation is not exactly in the best cosmetic condition, but black marks and broken toe rails certainly don’t help…

From Stellandam I battled Force 6 winds, fog, minimal visibility and rain to Willemstad, a curious little town shaped like a star (click here for evidence!). The town was heavily fortified, however I’m not entirely sure of it’s true history as all the information and museum displays were in Dutch…

As of today, I’m sitting in a harbour in Bruinisse, about to leave for Vlissingen. By the weekend I will be back in the North Sea, which will quickly turn into the Dover Straight, and then finally the English channel. I’m considering going on an extra long tack to Dover to fill up my gas tanks, and then tacking back to France – We’ll see how the winds are.

nick.