Back in the Islands!

If you had a sailboat in the Mediterranean, why would you leave it?

To catch a rare opportunity else where! Jon, Ritchie, Sophie and Mons were all meeting in the Canaries for new years! Ludo and I thought about renting camels in Tunisia and ridding across the Algerian Sahara into Morocco then taking a ferry, but since the border is closed between Algeria and Morocco and Easy Jet fly direct for eighty euros we decided on the latter.

We had an epic new years, which Sophie wrote so eloquently in her crazy French Frog Blog. So I will leave it to her.

We sailed around the Canaries for two weeks until the friends slowly trickled away as the holidays passed and we were down to one left.

Valerie from Couch Surfer auditioned to keep her spot by writing a song confessing her love for the boat and Captain Jon.

She was singing it as we escorted her to the bus and Captain Jon stood his ground that the rest of us were setting off on a boy’s trip.




For the next few weeks it would be boat projects in the sun, afternoon beers, talking about girls, fishing, thinking about girls, surfing, sailing into little bays looking for girls, chilling out, while combing the deserted beaches for girls. Our captain has vision, reason and strong resolve and we were determined not to break rank and to follow him anywhere.

We installed Jon’s new wind vane, and painted the back of the boat.

We found a little treasure map in the guide book… a yellow posted left note reading “Ile de Los Lobos, tricky anchorage in northerly winds but good holding, longest right hand break in Europe. Surf camp and ladies.” Needless to say we set off to replenish our recently depleted stores.

We tried to fit in with the locals, and participated in a local ceremony that usually consists of just ladies, but they invited us to join as long as we wore the traditional garb and danced in the traditional manner. I felt that my personal space bubble was broached on a few occasions, but I kept telling my self that traveling is about venturing beyond your comfort zone and being part of the moment.


We provisioned for the crossing to the Cape Verdes, then sailed up the coast of Fuertaventura and posted up in the little bay off Ile de Los Lobos. It was the setting of a boy’s trip.

Great surf, clear green water and sunshine. We caught fish, ate like wild animals and surfed the days away.

When I say “surfed” I mean Ritchie and I took turns shivering in our board shorts on a boogie sized surf board, as Jon’s audience out in the pack of surfers while Jon zoomed in and out in his wet suit and flash new board. :)

We hiked around the island’s well groomed trails and tried to catch feral rabbits for dinner, but decided after many failed attempts that we had plenty of pasta on the boat and didn’t know what to do if we caught a rabbit anyway.

A few days passed and we set off for the Cabo Verdes. Unlike most cruisers, as we tend to be, we set off from the most unlikely point of departure…nearly the furthers point North East in the archipelago. So after “leaving” we were still actually sailing back through the Canaries for another day and a half after having pulled anchor.

The Holidays!

Ludo and I arrived in the Canaries after an awesome week with Rob, Everett and Erin bisecting Spain’s coastline, and southern mountain towns. Everett is a rock star pimp little kid with a killer do and I would travel with him again any day. Rob and Erin, are awesome parents,

awesome friends, and awesome people to continue to share life with. We saw some sweet sights, made great new memories just hanging out playing with their new son Everett. We are thirty something’s now. Erin is still hot, a mom now, a lawyer, and still gallivants around the globe, with a binder of briefs to read, hand sanitizer, and baby on her back still learning from the world first hand.

Rob does nimrod surgery in the ER, writes with a Mont blanc pen, drives a BMW, plays with Barbies, can’t finish his beer and still wears girls underwear. They are pulling it off, real ambitious professionals, still down to earth, good parents and still living spontaneously. They are a real inspiration.

Planning on spontaneity!

This trip thus far has been an attempt at the best of both worlds. Traveling via sailboat can be anything you want it to be. One can travel “fast”, sailing each day covering as much distance as the weather will permit or you can sail for one day and stop for a month. When you sail “fast” you see water, some flying fish and the coast line. Looking at the map of the region triggers little pangs of regret about missing the wonderful talked about places. The little voice in your head cheers you along, “you are sailing around the world!”, and your little heart says “you just missed Italy!”. When you sail “slow” you make friends, learn to cook local dishes, pick up new words and experience new little ideas about life. Then you leave, and you leave friends, places you got to know and routines you began to enjoy. Smelling the roses won’t put miles on your log, and miles on your log don’t necessarily give you memories or that personal transformation that we’ve come so far to discover.
For me when I have an agenda or an expectation, I tend to miss something special. When I can wake up, go for a run, meet some old lady on the street who ends up walking me around a maze of Arab markets for two hours unveiling the secrete shops and best places to bargain, I feel like I have just had a moment that was more magical than anything I could have planned, and couldn’t have been bought at a travel agency. How do you perpetuate spontaneous moments, and how do you explain to others and even your self what you are doing?
I am following one moment of inspiration to the next, lead by encounters with people, shifts in the weather etc. and the further I step down this path the more I trust in it and the less I know about what’s coming next. I meet someone who tells me about a special place and I go. I see a post card that I like and I go. I go to a beautiful city and never enter a museum, ride the Ferris wheel or see the famous statue because I got caught up with a local and ended up cooking, drinking wine and telling jokes for three days and never leaving their house. Some old salt tells me about a hidden cove with good fishing and I cut loose. I try to be as available as I can, and find the guide books distracting in this effort.
Travel moments are the magic moments and lessons learned from new worlds and people as they go by. You can’t explain your self in an elevator when someone asks you “what are you doing” and when the “American dream” inner mantra kicks in with the “almost 30” sound track “what are you doing with your life?”, it becomes hard. No plan? So the answer to my favorite question is…. “I am reserving this period in my life for complete spontaneity while following the trend of motion, but I am not stuck on the idea of moving, I could not travel if I were so inclined, intiendes?”

When we visited Palma I bought a flag for Morocco, rode the bus back to the boat, pulled anchor and took a left for Tunisia. One destination is to the right, one is to the left. The guys on the boat, just laughed. While Derek and I were sailing together, years ago now, we bought books on Panama, got a flag, then sailed east towards Europe. Both horizons had greatness in store. It doesn’t matter where you go. There is so much to see, not enough time and all of it is good. The people you meet, the experiences you have all manage to have their impact. The most amazing people and experiences I have had could have been on a bus after getting a flat tire when I was trying to get somewhere, or when you stumble upon on the edge of town and you follow the light around a corner, or a smell in the air or music from the distance. Setting off ready and willing to follow the moment, is a muscle that you have to exercise, and its like anything else…. Use it or loose it.
Everyday, waking up and following that day’s moment of inspiration can be difficult. There is no manual or book to read that out lines what you are supposed to do. So on my boat, with great pride, I printed out the biggest label my Wal-Mart labeler would print stating my mission statement for this adventure: “YOU ARE SAILING AROUND THE WORLD”. I posted it on the door step from my boat to the outside world. And this helps my mental health, because that question, “where are you going, what are you doing, what do you want to do with your life” is the freaking plague, and it should be outlawed. What brings you alive is the new question! And Thirty is the new Twenty. Having Kids doesn’t mean your life is over, you don’t have to stop traveling or living your dreams, in fact you must continue so that your life inspires that of your new little one. That is my rant, back to the blog.

Ludo and I sailed from the Balearic Islands to Tunisia as fast as we could. Of course we experienced the biggest waves and heaviest sustained winds I have ever seen in Noche. Have you ever surfed down the face of a wave while sailing up wind? That’s the Mediterranean in the winter for you. Little sea mountains race south generated from the intense northerly winds streaming from the French Alps into the Gulf of Lion and joining the north west bound warm African winds for a party.


One wave crashed over the boat, and a wall of water ripped in one side of the dodger and out the other side, breaking two windows and floating both pairs of Ludo’s shoes away and the coffee cup out of my hand. Water flowed in through the closed hatches and into the galley. My stove burners were full of water and the gimbaled action kept a nice pond in the kitchen as we hove to at the edge of physical exhaustion feed now by the refreshing blast of sea water and exhilarating sound of furious wind and the beauty of whirling sea foam.
We went to Sardinia, and covered half the coast of Tunisia, with out venturing more than a city block from the boat. What did we discover, what did we experience? I am not sure. We didn’t even get an Italian coffee while we were in Italy. We went to Sardinia, but I wouldn’t say that I have been there. We crawled into little ports completely exhausted and entirely drenched. Spent all our time there drying our selves out and sleeping. Same with Tunisia. A seed of intrigue was planted, a new place to explore is on the list. Ludo’s in his brilliant way of expressing life in a succinct powerful way, said “I am glad to have had that experience, I feel alive!”

The yellow sky above Africa with its sirocco winds and wispy clouds, the stars at night and the new angle of familiar constellations was what I noticed. You have time to make observations. It’s wonderful to have missed years of political news, but to be aware of how Orion’s belt and the big dipper are moving up and down on my horizon as I zig zag around the surface of the globe. You move the stars from one side of the sky to the other as you sail by night.
We crossed the Mediterranean in two 48 hour bursts, which was awesome, but we did not see the places we went to, if that makes any sense. The color of the water is slightly different, and it’s these things that you start to notice. We went to fast.
Our Christmas was Special. We arrived in Tunisia, and the Marina was full. The customs officer asked for a bribe, and I gave him a copy of “The Alchemist” by Paulo Cohelo that was written in French. Ahh I got a kick out of it, he was expecting whisky, and instead he got a book that might transform his life. They permitted us to get food (bars of chocolate, and three loafs of bread), water and fuel. The weather forecast was bad and two other boats were in the harbor waiting out the bad winds. Weary and feeling a little deflated about spending Christmas Eve beating into the weather eating Macaroni and Cheese, (that is what you cook, if you are cooking an authentic American meal for someone) we set off once again. We sailed a quarter mile off shore hugging a depth of 30 feet in 20 knots wind right off the beach. As it turns out we were gliding along in perfect sailing conditions, lots of wind and no chop.
The bad weather came, but first we caught a fish for dinner, toasted a glass of wine and smoked the last cigar from Noche’s Caribbean stores all while the wind vane steered and we rested.
Upon arrival in Monastir, we tied up the boat, dried her out again, packed our bags, took a bus across the country and a flight to Barcelona where we were to meet up with Rob and Erin, drive to Malaga then fly to the Canary Islands to meet Jon for New years and then sail his boat to the Cape Verdes. Voila.

With the wind and sea: Here is the lattest update, check Sophie's Blog

With the wind and sea: Here is the lattest update, check Sophie's Blog

http://www.theadventuresofthecrazyfrenchfrog.blogspot.com/

Here is the lattest update, check Sophie's Blog

http://www.theadventuresofthecrazyfrenchfrog.blogspot.com/

I got a new wing man

Here are the steps:
Find some of these.

Find some way to distract them:

Grab your new buddy.

Let him do the work....


Rob, Erin, Everett, Ludo and I just had a road trip across Spain for the holidays. Beautiful countryside, good laughs and great times catching up with lifetime friends.

December to remember

It's Europe and the streets are filled with fashionably dressed Christmas shoppers. The intricate city of Barcelona wraps around a large port filled with mega yachts and wintering cruisers from all around the globe. In amongst the glimmering boats on display is that little white sail boat from America with four bath towels drying on the life lines. Noche is like the clown car that missed a turn and fell behind the circus.
I started a couch surfing account, and now am mother hen for backpackers traveling through Europe. I woke up this morning and there was a beautiful Brazilian girl snuggled up next to my nineteen year old German couch surfer, out on the deck was a bag full of groceries a bottle of wine and two books on the Balearic Islands that a stranger had brought to us in the night. Its just like Christmas around here, except I am wearing flip flops and board shorts (not so much because it is blazing hot on the Coasta Brava, but because laundry is so expensive).


So here is the update:
Since my parents are the only one's that read this blog and they came for the French Canals, I can save them for latter. We made it to the Mediterranean! I am sailing in the Mediterranean. Wow get out the pencil and cross something off the list of things to do in life. I know everyone else knows this, but the Med is in fact expensive, and the winter winds are unpredictably strong, and the sea state is a mess. So the images I had of clear water, petite villages and cocktail parties on Noche were congered from postcard images taken during the summer. The good news is when I pull up to a petite village the office that collects money has dust on the door knob and the money collector is on holiday, so its free. People don't sail the Med in the Winter.

Ok the real update. I got Ludo. The Ya Ya sisterhood road trip is almost complete.

Two months ago, I met a kid my age on dock in Bordeaux and he helped me remove the mast so Noche could qualify as a Canal boat. Ludo and his father had spent two years completely restoring and preparing a boat to sail from France to Cuba, and were scheduled to depart the following week. We kept in touch and a month later he called me with news that his mother was ill and his sail boat would be parked for another year. He was on the next train to Noche and now we are sailing the Med together. He speaks Portuguese, French, English, Spanish, knows good cheese and can read a wine bottle so he is handy as it gets on Noche.

I have always had a pang of fear about traveling alone, but each time I set off, I learn again and again that you are only alone for one or two days.
If you follow a calling you'll meet like minded people along the way. I meet alot of people who say, they would love to do what I am doing. Its a phrase that I do not understand. I feel like I am working down the list of things I want to do before I die, and everyday I am anxious because I don't think I have enough time. I cant imagine how I would feel if I wasn't doing my list, if I was doing something else instead. Life can take a turn and those dreams we've saved for later might not happen. Ludo and his father will sail some day, and in the meantime Noche will fill in the gap.
Yesterday, we met a Lithuanian girl and her French Canadian boy friend who have been living in Barcelona for six months. She is a bartender, living off 800 euros a month, and he passes out flyers for a discotheque and rakes in 400 euros a month. They have an apartment, nice clothes, etc and look like every other Barcelonan. They took Ludo and I rockclimbing all day, and hosted us around the city. She speaks six languages, and is in her second year of her masters in sociology. He speaks four languages and skateboards all day. This city is full of young people from all over the world, and the lingua franca is English. I speak broken English, burn 400 euros a week, and don't have nice clothes. There is no real point to my story other than, my jaw dropped when I learned how much money they live lavishly on, and how extravagantly well cultured citizens of the world can be.


I am doing this cliche voyage of simplicty, sailing around the world, powered by the wind, and my head spins when I meet a 22 year old Belgian kid who has walked from his home in Antwerp to Tibet and back with out ever paying for a bus or train. Or when a wispy 19 year old French girl trumps me by thumbing it from Mexico to Canada with homemade signs and seventy bucks. There are so many amazing stories out there and I never stop being amazed by how people can do so much with no fear and no money. You can go round the world by lifting your thumb. That is amazing. It's proof that people are good natured and you don't have to be afraid. I continue to learn every day out here.


How about this one: If you sleep eight hours, you'll sleep a third of your life. If you sleep six hours, you'll sleep a quarter of it. If you remember your dreams, you'll experience it all.


Here is the latest. We are newly inspired to rock climb so we will be sailing to the Balearic Islands to do some deep water soloing and I have always wanted to do this experiment: Take a thousand bucks and see how far it gets me. Due to the current "crisis" lets start with five hundred US. I want to dispell the myth that lack of money is a barrier to traveling. So I will be doing this experiment soon and documenting every penny. 500 US is 300 Euros so I should be back with a report very soon.

Motoring, Mud Fights and Wine

We we Noche and the French Canals. A year gone by, and she didn't look that bad, but boy did she smell. The first night back in La Rochelle my buddy Patrick said, "Its like camping, campfire smell and all". You do all you can but after all the salt air, the flat screen tv seized along with every zipper from trouser to raincoat to my favorite backpack. The only thing that got better was a stash of Dominican Rum, but not the mayonnaise or the carton of milk next to it. Sunny weather welcomed me off the plane so drying her out and enjoying the boat again was a breeze. Leaving La Rochelle and all the good people there was difficult. I know everyone is tired of hearing about "La Rochelle" and how great it is, but if you have a boat, and can handle castle turrets, and old clock towers illuminating around you as you have that glass of wine at sunset its the place to go. Waking up to the smell of fresh bread in the air and having an organic vegetable market a block away makes the good things in life right at your doors step.

Bordeaux...but not yet. There are crazy tides and wild Kiwis before lazy canals and cheap wine. Jon and Paul happened to be in the neighborhood. One carbon tiptoe for Jon from London to Toulouse, and Paul happened to be ridding his bike through the Pyraneese mountains on a month holiday from his mega yacht in the Med, so we met up and took Noche into the Garronne river on the rising tide at eight knotts to the walls of Bordeaux in one day. Well... all in one day, meaning we stumbled back from a Cuban dance bar in Royan at two in the morning and wanted to take the boat out...we left the car at the dock, and believe it or not Paul fell as sleep on the couch as Jon averaged about four knots out into the river and into the night. Having three "Captains" on board was luxury cruising so I crawled into my fart bag and when Paul and I woke up, Jon had done the hard watch and as the sun came up and burnt off the fog the tide changed and we started to reach speeds of eight and nine knots.

Bordeaux, pretty similar to Royan. We closed down the Irish pub and then danced the night away in a sweaty club with no air or elbo room to familiar Caribbean music and Mojitos. Somehow the wonderfull bar tender Anna,
from the Irish pub ended up with us the next day and we took a leisurely drive though wine country and had a mud fight in front of peaceful family vacationers in a sleepy beach town in autum. Its always so much fun with those guys.

Then the possie came down from La Rochelle for a monday night. Chris, another bar tender...came down first from LR, and thought I could use a fresh shirt so he took me shopping... meaning you go to little chic-shops looking for a t-shirt that's to small but comes wrapped in a fancy bag that you carry around town making you feel fancy for the rest of the day. We bought a few bottles of wine, and made reservations at a street side Italian restaurant for latter that night. Then we got Macaroons, a regional cookie that comes in different colors and flavors and again it is served with a white glove and boxed up like a wedding ring. Half of the experience is presentation.You select a baguette and they tie a paper bow around it. Everything is done intently and with great importance. Greeting people is the same. A greeting starts with "hello", then two kisses, you chat and then two more kisses, "good bye", and then "good journey". In this region life is one sensational moment after another.