We were about to make a dodger, [...]]]> We have a new, large roach mainsail, which significantly overlaps the topping lift and little bit the backstay too. After few trials, playing around with topping lift and pondering our options, we decided that we will make ourselves a boom-gallows. We wanted it for a long time anyway.

We were about to make a dodger, but the gallows idea got in the way and the dodger project was postponed. It didn’t take too long to convince ourselves that we are a tough bunch and that like the many other cruisers before us, also we will cross the oceans without the unsightly roof above the companionway.

While at Xingda fishing harbour we tied together both halves of our dinghy mast to the coach roof and put the dinghy boom between them to get some idea about the dimensions our boom-gallows must fit into. Trouble is that there are no right angles and the boat is far from being symmetrical. After an hour or so of jumping around with a tape measure and a protractor, we came up with a simple design, that we passed onto our SS man (as in stainless-steel), with whom we discussed couple of details.

When we got the supports and the teak timber, we were just in the middle of making a new non-skid on our deck.

When the day came, I was nervous. Drawing up the design was one thing, but now we actually needed to drill the boat and mount that thing so that it looks straight.

First of all, I have realized that the angle of the cockpit wall on starboard and port are about two degrees off. I did measure twice, what twice, I measure five times, but only on one side… Well, it won’t be as straight as intended.

In the end it turned out quite well. Only the forks that hold the teak timber are visually slightly off – yes they were supposed to be horizontal, but life ain’t always fair either, right?

Now it’s all done and I have even passed the initiation by thumping my head to the gallows couple of times when entering the companionway. Jana’s shorter so instead of the gallows themselves, she bumps her head into the boom on the side of the cockpit. But she has learned her ways now as well and we are both happy.

The handholds that the gallows provide are just marvelous. Boom sits calmly even in the constant waves that passing ferries, fishermen, harbour police and pilot boats create. We have also took our topping lift to the stern, where it goes through a block on the pull-pit and is tied to a cleat on the starboard. It can be easily worked with a sheeting winch and we will use it to hoist the dinghy.

We were little reluctant to get into it, because we knew it will be slow and nasty work. The first phase [...]]]> Not much has happened in the last few days, i.e. nothing worth telling a story about. We were concentrated on one thing only (not to mention translating of course): creating a new non-skid deck.

We were little reluctant to get into it, because we knew it will be slow and nasty work. The first phase for sure, because first we had to sand the old non-skid, which on our boat is a molded gelcoat. It’s 39 years old and especially the front deck was almost flat and was turning into a dangerous skating rink when wet.

We are planning to paint the whole boat, step by step, but it was imperative that we do the non-skid before our crossing to the Philippines, because most likely we are up for a bit of wave action. The north of South China Sea is well known for it.

Sanding the fiberglass is a nasty business, because the fine glass powder gets everywhere and when you get it on your skin it itches like hell. I wrapped myself as well as I could and Jana sealed herself inside the boat and worked on our next translation project.

First thing one has to do is to wash the surface properly, get the dirt and grease off, because experts say that you could work it into the fiberglass when sanding, which would prevent the paint to stick properly.

I spent the morning washing and waiting for the deck to dry. In the afternoon I sanded the non-skid on our deck. Took me about three hours. Not too bad. The next day I went over it again and fixed few spots I missed before.

Then we found out we have a problem. The deck was full of little holes, probably caused by improper wetting of the fiberglass mat when the boat was build. We had to fill these. Not to mention that the International boat painting guide suggests to seal old gelcoat using an epoxy primer, because it could contain microscopic holes which could trap moisture and result into blistering of the paint. We were lucky enough that they had stock of Interprotect in Kaohsiung. In the meantime we have filled the holes with Interfill. Then painted over with two layers of Interprotect and one layer of Perfection Undercoat.

Then the main step. Put on a coat of Perfection topcoat and disperse Intergrip into the wet paint using a sieve. There was naturally quite a wind so that plastic crystals were flying everywhere. Next you let the paint cure and vacuum the deck to get all the Intergrip that didn’t stick to the paint away. Or blow it away. We tried to brush it away too, but that does not work very well.

Finally we put another coat of Perfection and waited for the result. The next day we realized that the texture is actually quite coarse, too much for our delicate bums. Thus we put on another coat, which made it little better.

Few points for those that decide to follow the same path:

1. Surface preparation is important. Interprotect will fill some tiny holes, but not very well. We tried to fill the holes that we missed when filling with Interfill as much as possible, but the hole usually remains visible. Next coat of Interprotect helps a bit and so does Prefection Undercoat.
2. Intergrip is quite fine, you need a fine sive or it will just fall through. Also the crystals sometimes stick together creating much coarser “stones”. Had we realized that soon enough, we would have sieve them first. These are no good on the deck.
3. Intergrip has to be spread very evenly and the cover should be a little thick, otherwise you’ll be left with spots where the Intergrip is sparse, which doesn’t look too great. We were worried that we don’t have enough Intergrip in the beginning and thus our deck does not have a very even texture. But it does not slip at all.
4. Intergrip should be distributed as soon as possible, the paint dries quite quickly and then it doesn’t stick that well. We had about 25 degrees and we had to move fast.
5. We used foam rollers which didn’t last very long. Regular hair roller worked quite well. But for topsides we will probably stick to foam.
6. We also tried to mix the Intergrip into the paint and roll the result. It’s not very easy to work with it, but it’s possible to achieve quite good texture. Sieve is much better, even though it’s messy.

At the beginning of last week, still in our oasis of quiet, we finished the last version of the translation of Li Ang’s [...]]]> Once again we’ve left our sanctuary at Xingda fishing harbour and returned to Kaohsiung. Main reason being that Jana was asked to share few of her delicious “instant meals” with few friends.

At the beginning of last week, still in our oasis of quiet, we finished the last version of the translation of Li Ang’s novel “Magic Garden”, put it aside for a week to read it one last time before we send it to the publisher and submit it to a scrutiny of a proof-reader. Have you ever noticed that every time you read what you wrote, there’s always an error to be found? We’ll soon know how many we’ve left behind.

Anyway, we felt good about the work done, and the rest of the week just flew by. We cleaned the boat and became hosts to couple of groups of visitors.

First was Jessica with her family. Jessica was responsible for our talk at the Buddhist foundation Tzu Chi. We wanted to take them around the harbour first – it’s spacious, mostly good wind, and there are no waves. If our guests like it, we can take them out to the sea. Naturally there was no wind at all and they were eager to head out right away.

The entrance to Xingda harbour is quite shallow so even before nice fresh fifteen knots of wind filled Janna’s sails, we began to beat into half meter waves. Our guests remained calm. It’s not that bad, they said. Then Janna heeled, they popped their eyes and grabbed anything within their reach. It was their knuckles that turned white first. Their faces followed soon after. Spray started to fly through the air and it was the men who succumbed first.

We knew from the beginning that they are the problematic group. Apparently they get motion sick all the time. This time they stood up to the elements with dignity, just fell asleep. The female part of the crew became suspiciously quiet and only from time to time their dozy eyes peeked out of the shadows of their wide-brimmed hats.

We were about five miles from the shore. We turned around and headed slowly back. The jibe woke up our friends and soon they felt much better and were quite enthusiastic about the drop in wind speed – the apparent wind speed. Quite naturally, the euphoria didn’t last long as the downwind rocking of sailboats can be rather unpleasant for the stomachs of some. The boat felt into silence again. We tried to ride Janna to ease the pain of our friends, which took us little below the entrance to the harbor. Another jibe was inevitable. The noise and jerking motion that accompanies jibing woke our friends again.

All of them were overjoyed to see that the calm waters behind the breakwaters are within reach. Their longing gazes were saying: Just a minute or two and our suffering will end. It was still more than half an hour, but who would have the heart to break theirs…

Everyone stood up to the elements and once we crossed the invisible line between the red and green beacons on the breakwaters, Janna swayed down the last wave, our friends jumped up and started to fight over the tiller and sheets. We had fresh wind and even though the next item on our itinerary was cooking and eating – the Taiwanese are well-known epicureans – we crisscrossed the harbor for another two hours.

Me and Jana just set in the cockpit and enjoyed the enjoyment of our guests. From time to time we help with crossed line on the winch or to get the boat out of irons.

Those who were hungry – everyone – had a few bites of banana bread we baked in the morning and when we finally docked, in about fifteen minutes Jana fixed up a delicious chilli with tortilla chips, rice and fresh bread, which was then also used to clean plates. The early dinner was followed by a lovely sunset. What a nice day.

This week we actually baked three banana breads and three regular breads. There were just that many visitors. The very next day, our friend A-Cheng, owner of the sail boat Limei, came with his wife and mum. This was a payback dinner for the Korean feast we had with them the first time we arrived to Xingda. The banana bread was gone the first, then half of the bread which was served with the main dish. During the dinner, Jana showed our friends how to make both the banana bread and our regular bread, which were baked the same evening.

Both breads were ready for our last guest that week. A reporter, a cameraman and an assistant from the DaAi TV station came the next day to shoot a feature about a simple life on a small boat. The plan was to shoot for about three hours, but they stayed till five. And we didn’t mind. We didn’t feel quite right in front of the camera, but all of them were very nice people so we enjoyed ourselves.

The cameraman was a man around forty-five and from the beginning it was obvious that he is capable of anything to get a good shot.

“I don’t see any seagulls. How am I going to get the song of a seagull on tape?”

“Actually, seagulls don’t so much sing as they caw,” I offered my expertise.

“Can you imitate a seagull then?”

When I confessed that I haven’t been practicing seagull caw lately, he lost interest and ran away to shoot our boat from few more angles. Once we set sail he ran around the deck to get all the possible angles and kept nagging the others to get out of the scene. The waves were much smaller than two days ago, so he was able to keep his balance. Unfortunately, constant peeking into the viewfinder didn’t do much good for his stomach and soon he followed others to the cockpit and with resignation closed his eyes. This was a signal for us that he’s got enough of the sea and of shot.

Once back on the calms waters of the harbor, everyone became cheerful again. The assistant stretched on the bow, the reporter continued her questioning, and the cameraman began to stare at our mast.

“I would like to climb up there. Can I?” His colleagues opened their mouths and opened their eyes wide.

We happily agreed, because it is quite rare that people wish to get up the mast, but the view is so grand that we are always happy to share it with anyone. Particularly with people whose job is to look.

The cameraman didn’t waste any second and started to climb. I pulled him down quickly by his belt. His lady colleague, the reporter, immediately gave him a good dressing-down: you’re going to break something and will have to pay for it. I explained that I am more concerned with his and more importantly my well-being, because if he falls down and breaks his neck, I might very likely end up in jail.

I wanted to get him my climbing harness, but he would probably get up there once I let of him, so I simply tied a bowline around his chest. Bowline was good for the old climbing gurus of the last century and it should be good enough for a Taiwanese cameraman.

The cameraman climbed up to the spreaders when he realized he forgot something.

“Oh my heaven, I forgot the camera!”

We sailed smoothly with full main sail, small jib and a cameraman in the rigging.

Cooking on board was supposed to be another part of the movie. But everyone liked sailing for a little longer – we feel like on a vacation, they told us – so Jana suggested she can cook while we sail back. The cameraman found a good angle to shoot all the cooking as I tacked slowly through the harbor.

“Can we do it again? I didn’t get the sound right, when you were chopping the peppers.”

“I was going to chop another one anyway,” Jana smiled. “We hope you all will eat with us.”

It turned out that the cameraman and the reporter were on a Buddhist diet, which forbids onions, which was already sizzling in the pot. But the assistant expressed a sincere wish to help us with all that food. Nothing should go to waste.

“That’s a wonderful smell,” said the reporter.

“That’s the onion,” laughed Jana.

After the lunch, we unfolded our bicycles to shoot “low key” shopping for water and groceries. We tied a basked for veggies on one bike, a ten litter jerry can on the other and met with the crew in a small town about fifteen minutes ride from the harbor. At about five p.m. after the last interview about our life aboard, the crew left and we fell tired into the cockpit. Can you hear the sound of a beer can being opened? Psshhhh… exhale.

Friday was a resting day. Except that we scrubbed the whole bottom. No wonder we were so slow when coming up here the last time, there must have been an inch of growth, particularly those tube worms, tough SOBs.

In the afternoon we got a call from Jessica, who was apparently quite taken by Jana’s efficient cooking and organized a cooking workshop.

Originally we were planning to go to Kaohsiung on Sunday, but now we were supposed to meet for lunch with Jessica, so we decided to go on Saturday. Sailboats are known for not being on time.

Then we met Mark, who was just finishing antifouling on his Mumm 36 and was planning to go back to water on Saturday. That also meant that our Taiwanese friend Hermann will haul out his boat and we wanted to stick around and give a hand. And since Mark is a nice guy and we were playing hosts the whole week, we had him for dinner of spaghetti Bolognese and few drinks.

The next day, the crane arrived and around lunch Mark’s boat was again safely afloat. What a relief when the straps on which the crane lifts the boat are taken away and she starts to rock free again. Boat on land and particularly in the air is an unnatural phenomenon.

<img title=”Po čtyřech hodinách snažení konečně vodorovně ve vzduchu” alt=”” src=”https://fbcdn-sphotos-e-a.akamaihd.net/hphotos-ak-ash3/31450_4651877615158_1606395247_n.jpg” width=”461″ height=”346″ />Success!

Hauling of Hermann’s boat was a tad more difficult. It was his first time. There were hauling marks to follow, which were supposed to show where to put the straps, but it soon became obvious that the straps cannot be of the same length. After four hours of hopeless trying, the whole gang under the command of Mark, who had the most experience with cranes, the boat was up in the air, well balanced and safe. Then came the scrubbing and washing and soon it was five and we were all wet and cold.

The hot-pot that Mark suggested really hit the spot.

It was naturally too late for us to sail to Kaohsiung. We didn’t feel like going anyway. We’ll get up early in the morning, should be able to get there before noon.

Do I have to describe the wind speed that morning? I think not. There was no wind of course. But it was quite a while since our engine ran for couple of hours, so let’s call it engine maintenance motoring and we were on a tight schedule.

“It’s boring to motor,” said Jana. “But even with the engine on, it’s so beautiful at sea. Better than being landlocked.”

To make our short, four hour trip, even shorter, we decided to take a good shower. It’s been a while since we washed at sea using a bucket and sun shower to rinse the salt water off. Oh, that freedom. No crouching and hiding from the ever watchful eyes of passers-by on the shore and passengers of the ferry behind. All that being wrapped in a towel. Of course, it’s much better in Xingda, but even there, we can’t just walk freely around as the evolution made us.

At sea again, just for a while and being harassed by a noisy mechanical contraption, but alone and the scenery. The scenery is always great!

The last three days were a real ordeal. From peace of a quiet bay we stepped right in the midst of a full-blown house-party. The Chinese New Year that’s nine days of national holidays, desperate traffic jams, every hotel [...]]]>

We casted off as planned. This time we were resolved that nothing can stopped us.

The last three days were a real ordeal. From peace of a quiet bay we stepped right in the midst of a full-blown house-party. The Chinese New Year that’s nine days of national holidays, desperate traffic jams, every hotel in the favorite destinations is hopelessly over-booked, even small shrines and temples offer their meditation cells to tourists.

Why would we go back to Kaohsiung at the peak of the busiest tourist period of the whole year? Why?

We sailed out of the Xingda harbour into a well set force five winds. The tops of one to two meter waves where crumbling down and spitting spray, the sun shining as crazy and we were smiling at each other as idiots. Our Taiwanese friend A-Cheng, a.k.a. Happy Mouse, was at the helm. The goal of the day was to sail to Kaohsiung and test our windvane Caphorn downwind. So far we were neglecting this great apparatus, assuming that soon we will go for a longer test sail and learn all that is to it then.

We struggled with it for a while, because I have wrongly assumed that the tiller has to be at midships when the windvane is set. This turned out to be a silly mistake and it was pointed out by Jana who got tired of my hopeless efforts and took out the manual. Turns out, reading manuals is a good thing. Suddenly everything was so clear and we could start making fun of the limitations of our collective reason.

The windvane can handle a lot, but within certain limits. The boat has a strong tendency to come up when sailing downwind and the helmsmen counteracts this tendency by putting the tiller upwind. The same help needs to be offered to the windvane.

During few jibes we learned to set the windvane quite well. Then we could finally do nothing but start to eat. Caphorn kept the boat perfectly squared to the wind, only from time to time a wave pushed us aside, but our fateful helmsmen brought her quickly back.

Soon we arrived to Kaohsiung.

As soon as we tied to the dock, Janna‘s cockpit filled with friends. Snacks were unpacked, the garbage piled up, smiles started to wear us down, the cheek muscles started to hurt. Single mantra resonated from all directions: Xinnian kuaile! Gongxi facai! Happy New Year! May you become rich!

Originally we were planning to come back to Kaohsiung only to give a talk at the cultural center of the Buddhist humanitarian organization Tzu Chi and then go back as soon as possible. But a Swiss cruisers Kaspar and Ute on Céluann arrived the next day we left for Xingda, so we decided to stay few more days and get to know them, offer our help and find out about their cruise. Most importantly, they assured us that the area around El Nido is a true paradise. Seems like we are up for a treat!

We gave the talk at Tzu Chi on Wednesday. It went quite well. People laughed, asked questions and from the feedback we received after the talk we learned that our lifestyle is inspiring. Not that everyone would want to get a boat and set out to sea, but the minimalist lifestyle resonates with the philosophy they are trying to promote. We are really greatful to Jessica, her husband and others to give us the opportunity to visit Tzu Chi and give a talk there.

We entitled our talk “Selfish, but responsible life”. Besides amusing people by talking about all the troubles we had to go through and all the mistakes we made, the important part of the talk was naturally about the life decisions we make, values and general life philosophy. We tried to formulate clearly what our life style means in the context of humankind, the sense of life, etc., etc. That’s the heavy stuff…

We selfishly decided to live in a way that only minority can live. We are dependent on the fruit of the work done on land, on people that haven’t and most of them never will know the wonderful feeling the life at sea offers. On the other hand we try to take only a little. Our energy consumption is tiny. Our territorial claims are negligent. The refuse we leave behind is relatively small…

I guess that’s enough. In fact, our totally selfish craving for quiet, peace and peopleless surroundings, and especially the inability to satisfy that craving, was driving us crazy. We had to get out of Kaohsiung as soon as possible!

We had a windward passage ahead of us, but since we helped to arrange a canvas master Mr. Xu to come and make new canvas for Kaspar and Ute, we left around ten.

The sea was nicely billowing, the wind was fresh. Unfortunately the wind was blowing from the worst possible direction. Naturally. We tacked and enjoyed a great day till about five when we started the engine and took a shortcut against the wind so that our three guests get to their beds in reasonable time.

Now, nothing but silence is roaring in our ears. Tomorrow few friends come over and then we get back to our translation revisions. Four more days and we should be able to finish the novel we are working on right now.

Let the muse be strong with us!

About a week ago, we sailed little further out. The [...]]]> We’ve installed a new propeller not long ago and immediately we’ve noticed slight vibrations, which occurred periodically in about 2-3 seconds. First we thought that it’s not a big deal. The vibrations were very minor and we try to sail most of the time anyway.

About a week ago, we sailed little further out. The weather was wonderful, fresh breeze, waves about one meter high, perfect day. Just about when we decided to turn around and head back, the wind died. We were just at the outer end of the south-west Kaohsiung cargo ship anchorage. For a while we tried to sail, but the current can be quite strong in these parts and it started to push us towards the anchored steel monsters.

We started the engine to improve the non-existent apparent wind. We still had doubts about our new prop. So we opened the engine room, switched between different RPMs and observed what the engine does. Right away it was obvious that the waves increase the vibrations. We watched the engine with worries and started to investigate what might be the cause of it. Since nothing other than the propeller changed, we naturally suspect that the prop has to be the cause. The guy that made it for us has a different opinion. Our shaft is bent he says.

One possible cause could have been a key that does not allow the prop to sit properly on the taper. I’ve dived and tried to reinstall the propeller. They key seems fine. We continued to talk to the guy that sold us the prop, but he seems to be convinced that bent shaft is the only reason. His prop is impeccable he says. He even came around the other day to measure something. He arrived without any instruments and only repeated what we already heard.

We won’t get anywhere with him, until we get the shaft out.

That might sound like an easy operation, but is a bit scary in reality. You have to remember that the shaft passes through the hull about half meter bellow the water line, so when the shaft is pulled out, water will start pouring in. That will be Jana’s job, to plug the hole in timely fashion. Me, I will be holding my breath, under water, at the other end of the shaft pulling it out.

Then the shaft will be put onto a lathe together with the prop and it will be tested.

It is actually quite embarrassing that we have been putting this off for such a long time. We were basically about to cast off and still were unable to deal with stuff like this. But every time we would think about pulling the shaft out, we immediately started comforting ourselves that the problem is not as big and that it will go away. Unfortunately it is another case of procrastination. Yes, we are guilty of procrastinating. Today we have an excuse. The water was too dirty to dive. Since we have to do what we still consider like a really scary job, at least we could be allowed to do it in clean water instead of a pool of garbage covered by a layer of diesel and oil… We will try tomorrow(?). Wish us luck!