Windows

Any fears I had previously entertained about having windows washed out at sea have been more or less dispelled from my mind by my experience today of removing the old Perspex panes. The strength of the (Sikaflex) sealant holding them in is astounding. Short of the all piercing influence of the sun, and my trusty knife and a good few layers of fine (and only recently re-grown) skin from my fingers, I can’t imagine anything getting past the stuff! While I hope dearly that I should never find myself testing this theory in earnest, I really am amazed by the strength of its bond. It has reaffirmed for me the value of the stuff in the right application, but reminds me also that when used for the wrong purpose, it can be a real nightmare. I’ll make sure I keep this in mind as I refit.

I’m looking forward to my new windows. For years my view has been reminiscent of Turner and his sunrises; inspiring certainly, and an everyday reminder of the greatness of the man, but a hindrance when spying on one’s neighbours. Bob Young, from “Mad Hatter” (a 25’ Top Hat, what a great name) has already commented on the clarity of my windows (what do you use to get them that clean?), and that’s even before the new panes have gone in. I can only guess at how good they’ll be once I’ve finished!

Kalitsah in her current state. Her former owners put a lot of good work into her before leaving Canada. Obvious here are her appendages aft; windvane and generator. Chainplates have been moved to the exterior of the hull. While I am keen to keep her lines as uncluttered as possible, there are a couple of things missing from this photo. A life raft lived until recently behind the mast (meaning no vang... I really need to work out a better place for it), and my recently completed nesting dinghy will live forward of the dodger. More on the dinghy later.

Isn't she pretty?

That was close...

Two things of significance have happened to me recently. First, I have remembered my user name and password for my log, so can finally update the thing. Second was more serious. While camping and only a day before I was to move aboard Kalitsah, I burned both my hands badly enough to require a 'medivac' flight to Sydney and a couple of weeks of hospital treatment. I'll recover fully, perhaps with a little scaring and loss of pigment in my skin in the more severely burned areas. Far worse is that I am hindered in my plans to fit out the boat for sea. What a lamentable damned nuisance it all is!

Forced for the moment into idleness, I'm spending my time planning the details of my eventual escape. Foremost on my mind are the modifications I plan to make to Kalitsah. She's already sailed half way around the world, so I know she's good for it, but I intend none the less to make her safer, to bring her up to a standard where I'm as confident as I can be that she'll stay afloat. She'll also be my home for at least the next few years, so comfort, both at sea and at anchor, will be a strong motivation behind the changes I'll make.

I just wish I could get in and start!


It hasn't escaped me that the punishment I mentioned below may well have caught up with me already. Not to tempt fate, but it'll take worse for me to be resigned back to a desk job...

With just a week left here in this office and a boat waiting patiently for me up north, I'm finding it hard to do anything other than count the very minutes that are left between this here and now and that long anticipated then, when I am finally aboard. It came to me this morning on my way to work that it verges on the obscene, the idea that one can even be allowed to dream of a life so good as that which I will soon move into. It is a wicked pleasure for which there must be some suitable and undoubtedly deserved punishment for allowing myself to think of it. So it feels in a worker bee town, rolling along the conveyor belt into work for the day along with all those around me. I wonder what it will be, this punishment of mine? It's certain that in time, all will be revealed to me.

In St Tropez aboard Warren Brown's "War Baby", having won much of the silver on offer during the Prada Challenge for Classic Yachts in 2003. Not sure I've had a photo taken of myself since, so this will do for now.

I am soon to move aboard an Alberg 30 named Kalitsah, a 30' yacht which lives in Pittwater on the East coast of Australia. In the lead up to this, I'm keeping myself amused with an endless list of pressing things to be done. There's my job to leave, most of my possessions to get rid of and, proving to be the most difficult of all, convincing myself that what I'm doing isn't quite as foolish as it so often seems.

I'm living now in Canberra, the capital of Australia. Sailing in Canberra is a perculiar affair performed on Lake Burley Griffin. Really, it's a well sized lake for dinghy racing and for paddling around in a kayak, and is a beautiful centrepiece of an aesthetically very pleasing city. My love affair with the lake has however suffered recently, she having afflicted me with a nasty case of blue-green algae poisoning. It seems timely that I should trade my aquatic lover, and Pittwater has proved a worthy temptress. Should all go to plan, I'll be there in April 2006.