My first day alone on the boat.

You might wonder how that is? First of all, I am not really alone, Styx is here and the Palairos (the little village where I find myself in) ex-pats. Concerning living on the boat alone as a human is brilliant, awesome, beautiful to name a few. Not that I don’t miss the hubby, he left on a two to three-week delivery -he is transporting a boat from France to Greece at the moment of writing-. It’s just magical. I am even writing this first draft of my blog on a block note with a too short pencil beneath the bloody red light* of the navigation station.

*It’s red because that doesn’t kill your night vision while night sailing. This in case you need to check the old fashioned paper charts. Why don’t we do that anymore?

Studying for the ICC

I just came back to the boat. It’s my first entire day single on our lovely, sturdy, marvelous mum. – Ramon and I call her mum instead of “our baby” as many others do – Just before I was in a restaurant/taverna – as you call them in Greece – with the pirate family (who we spend last summer and winter with) and two newcomers. New to living on a boat that means. They are three weeks old and learning everything about their sailing vessel, a Jeanneau 37, if I am not mistaken.

The super, relaxed eager to unravel the mechanical and electrical system of the boat female half of the couple, was firing up a piston that almost fully rotated the crankshaft once* with her enthusiasm. You definitely do recognize a true-hearted sailor when you cross one.

 “Is it because they’re my generation or have we been living too long in between the elder?”

*A year ago when I started studying engines a whole new world opened up for me. So many actions happen simultaneously and result in one holistic outcome. Unbelievable, it’s a shame you can’t see the crankshaft and the pistons of the engine. And the assuming and presuming of possible issues, it’s almost a philosophy. Maybe material for another blog?

via GIPHY

Back to the couple, they are too modest to display their insecurities. Instead; undergo all ideas is what they breathe. They are here now; in their boat, while I’m writing this draft on paper. – I’m still able to write but it isn’t as fast as typing. I think it might be better because you have more time to think before you scribble. – They have been my neighbors for the last three? Four? days. We hadn’t talked much before tonight. Only basic stuff, as the 10 min talk you do with land neighbors. After tonight I have really spoken to them. Pretty cool peeps! Is it because they’re my generation or have we been living too long in between the elder?

“The Mayday message from the crew in the life-threatening situation, Ramon and I heard, stopped replying at the rescue authorities. Pretty morbid…

There was a connection, in the bubble mind you! Palairos, is a bubble… A place that is very hard to leave, because of the laid back atmosphere, the beautiful combination of all its lovely inhabitants, who are all a bit crazy in their own peculiar way and unexpected things happen. A different vibration in the outgoing frequency. Hopefully, it isn’t a Mayday… The sailor girl and I even talked about that tonight. The more newbie couple than us – funny how fast you learn – also heard a Mayday on the radio during one of their first trips. A boat caught fire and was sinking. Oddly enough, Ramon and I, heard one of these before as well. In their case, the persons were assisted out. The Mayday message from the crew in the life-threatening situation, Ramon and I heard, stopped replying to the rescue authorities. Pretty morbid… Bizarre to talk about it, We haven’t talked about it with battered sailors. They just don’t talk about fears or did they grow used to them?

Mutiny is my girlfriend! Completely chilled out when she is happy in still waters. Ramon, Styx, and I recently got to know her better in rolling conditions. She would roll from port to starboard side or is it the other way around? Ferociously, violently, 50 degrees to port, 50 degrees to starboard. Vomit inducing one might say…

Honestly, I trust her, she is my religion. I fall asleep knowing she will protect me, grant me my freedom, demands me to stay fit by circumnavigating her, and doesn’t tolerate stupidity. The latter she does by accidentally letting me bump into things. Literally you have to watch your step and she’ll keep your intelligence challenged by creating issues we have to research for days in order to fix them.

On our way to catch the bridge in Lefkas. Look at that gorgeous beamy Mutiny beauty…

If we would have standard funds like 90 percent of the normal Westerners – but our standard is to live up to our freedom&happiness ratio and to practice what we preach instead –  we would just call an engineer or electrician to fix our problem and afterward complain about the money we had to spend for that. But seriously? Where is the love in that?

To get to know her, every little sigh; the stretching of the shrouds when she wakes up in the morning, the water sloshing against her outlines, the swaying lullaby that echoes from her submerged heart is the unique transcending joy us non-gods and non-goddesses can master.

When we newbies, meet sun kissed, windswept, and passionate sailors, we melt. Our “I’m tough too” concept vanishes when they share their horrifying, demonizing tales accompanied by delirium engaging, cheap local house wine.

This isn’t it, this will never be when you have a boat. The ten Commandments of sailing;

  1. You’ll encounter the seven seas; 
  2. You’ll consume too much alcohol;
  3. You’ll be an ignorant slave of your boat;
  4. You’ll research, learn and create;
  5. You’ll lose your balance on land;
  6. You’ll love eating from cans;
  7. You’ll never take a cold beer for granted; 
  8. You’ll glorify long showers;
  9. You’ll stay fit;
  10. You’ll interpret sleep as a utopia;