During my
SouthEast Pacific trip, I had opportunity to live through the most various types of new experiences. In my opinion, obviously, it is these sort of experiences that add the spice to one's life. And therefore, in that sense alone, the travel and all its hardships, were outrageously worthwhile.
Interestingly, some things that seem hideous to some, went past me without much fuss. Take the dress code and washing habits.
As we sailed into the Roaring Forties, which is past the 40-iest, Southern degree of latitude, winds are usually above 25 knots, and the great ocean rollers, often with a swell higher than 4-5 meters, speed past interminabely. After a while, one only really takes notice of them when they grow to 6-7 meters. Temperature can get over an agreable 15 degrees Celsius, in the sunshine. But mostly it's overcast, with temperatures around 10 degrees. Nights were chilly, often being cold, around 5 degrees, making our 3 hour night-watches into a sometimes freezing experience.
Being an bloody amateur in oceanic crossings, my garment was not very well sorted, in my opinion. However, I had the great advantage of having a proper sailing foulweather gear, with waterproof pants and a jacket with a sailors' collar and hood. It was a gift, given to me by my mother, many years ago. Here is one well used gift!
Else, I would allways use; Two pairs of socks, underwear, a pair of cotton training pants, two cotton T-shirts, one cotton or sythetic fiber long-sleeve shirt, a fleece-pullover, a pair of neoprene sailing boots with a proper sole, and my light foulweather gear. The boots were also a well remembered item, lended to me by my brother. He later gifted them to me, and I still have them. Never use them on the boat-building site, though.
During all times while on deck we would carry our harness with teether locked onto something. At night-watches, I would allways carry on me; a waterproof flashlight, and a pocket knife. After a while, I also learned to allways carry on me a pair of cotton working-gloves. The cheap stuff. I've bought them for R$ 5. They saved me many a cold night. And after 2 weeks of use, they get really soft too, if you try to keep them as dry from salt water as possible. If you observe the image in my last post, you'll note, that I also had a woolen cap. I still love it.
I'm afraid I have to say, that my crewmates were not as well equiped as I was. Most of them had barely ever sailed before, and knew not what expected them. Mike, the Canadian, had a outdated yellow oilskin jacket, and synethic windcover pants. Sometimes I offered him my jacket. He rarely took it. Though Canadian!
Daily hygiene was resolved with a rigurously controlled dosis of one cup of sweet water per person. I was surprised to see how well I coped with that one! No kidding. I mean, that I used it very efficiently. I held a very rigorous hygiene routine and had, therefore, no skin or other health problems.
On the other hand, you could serve yourself from as much salt water as you whished for. Eventhough, I tryied to keep far from it. The temperature was not tempting and the salt would cause discomfort on the skin in the long run. When working on deck my weather gear sheltered me from the water. Another reason for the absence of skin issues during the trip.
My experience as a skier and snowboarder was valuable. This included garment preparation, and operational dressing techniques; like using in layers, undressing as soon as possible, and peeling off when working and sweating. But also, the experience of being cold for a few hours.
We had a routine of rolling watches. Each crew member would be on watch for 2 hours during days and 3 during nights, the captain was not included ,and we allways had one free crew member. My preferred watch was in the early morning hours and day-break.
Standing a night watch, alone under an endless stary night, chilling in the endless vastness of the Southern Ocean, is one of my most memorable memories. I will never forget how that feels.
I took a "day off". Instead of building my boat, I took a couple of friends for a tour around town. Milo, a young Swiss-American, son a friend, my pal Jonas, and his friend José Felix, from Colômbia. Four "gringos" making a tourist gig around town. Being born in Rio I'm not a gringo, but I look like one, so, ... can't argue against that.
We made a quick sighting of an exposition about "Carrancas" from the São Francisco River, at a Cultural Center (Correios). Carrancas are bow-figures, used by cargo boats of the São Francisco. They were thought to drive away the bad spirits of the river. The utilitarian craftmanship has often developed into an interesting sort of art form.
