The definition of “doldrums” is “a spell of listlessness or despondency.” Yup, listlessness captures it nicely, except it missed the constant rumble of the diesel, the distinctly un-rhythmic weee/waaaw of the auto-pilot, and those damned space pirates!!!
Continue reading “Sweat, Diesel Fumes, and Space Pirates”
Our departure from St Helena marked several transitions. We left behind a crew member, the remaining crew was far more familiar and comfortable with Wild Rumpus, and the temperature gradually transitioned from chilly to biting-into-a-freshly-microwaved-hot-pocket, noon-on-a-sunny-day-inside-a-roadside-porta-potty HOT.
Oh, and one of the crew decided we had too many damned stanchions.
Continue reading “Stanchions? We Don’t Need No Stinkin’ Stanchions”
On an ocean passage, the sea’s boundless indifference stretches beyond the horizon, the sunset’s reflection is unbroken as far as the eye can see, and the wildlife cheerfully reminds you that you are in an alien world. The days and hours, however, are brought into narrow focus by the ceaseless changing of the watch schedule, the dwindling food supplies, the water maker’s reassuring whirring, and the nausea-inducing ritual of sticking your head down into the bilges looking for leaks.
So, join me as I share the joy in this, the first of the blog posts about the passage from South Africa to Grenada.
Continue reading “Waxing Poetic (and other stuff)”
Wild Rumpus is Grenada undergoing some repairs under the supervision of its skilled and dedicated crew. I am in California and about to start teaching sailing. So what is next? That’s what family, friends, and I keep asking myself, and now I think I have some answers. Oh, and some more videos and pictures of sailing across the Atlantic from Africa.
Continue reading “What’s Next”
We did it. Wild Rumpus and her crew sailed from Cape Town to Grenada with stops in St Helena and Fernando de Noronha. We survived without physical injury, some bruises to our ego, some broken boat parts, one stabbed dinghy, and an excess of Ostrich sausage that nobody could bring themselves to eat, and we all remained friends (or the crew was about to mutiny and we landed just in time for my safety). This is the super brief recap.
Continue reading “4 Months, 5800+ Miles, 2 Remote Islands, 2 Beers, Some Tattoos, and Lots of Memories”
Wild Rumpus is officially a boat! Just pics and some vids. Enjoy.
Continue reading “Splash Down!!”
A mix of good news and less than great news this week, but since embodying the honey badger, attitudes are good, and progress is being made. (Yes, I remain hung up on the honey badger.). We will spend some extra time in Cape Town taking in the sites, playing tourist, and sampling S. African whiskey. Oh, and I have some more post-safari pics from Skukuza Africa.
Continue reading “From Inside The Briar Patch”
Ideally, while on passage we will all eat together and not resort to eating each other. Planning the menu and supplies was driving me a bit nuts until I happened on a method that did not involve learning how to use spreadsheets. Now, it is a simple, if somewhat tedious task in which I have confidence.
And we all know that sometimes life moves too fast. The answer to an overly fast-paced life is often slowing down and appreciating the little things. But, what happens when a sailboat is moving too fast? Well, you put on the brakes –sort of.
Continue reading “Eating Is Fundamental and Slowing Our Roll”
There are boat shows and then there is the Annapolis Sailboat Show. For the uninitiated, the prior sentence is like saying “there is a little league baseball diamond and then there is Fenway Park.” Although we already have a boat, our passage crew had never stepped foot on an Xquisite X5, and we still had some big-ticket items to buy for the passage.
Continue reading “Annapolis Boat Show”
As shown in the fantastic documentary titled “Planes, Trains and Automobiles,” travel plans can occasionally kick you in your bathing suit parts. When they do, you need to catch your breath, adjust your boxers, and figure out the new plan.
Continue reading ““Six Bucks and My Right Nut Says We Ain’t Landing In Chicago””