Ahoy there mateys!
Would have posted here first if I'd found it sooner. Thank you all for RF, and for tolerating this hairy scoundrel in your midst.
Born early seventies in German to Belgian father, German mother. Emigrated with them at age three years to lovely Australia
. My opinion not sought at the time, in hindsight, Good Move!
Grew up in Oz, short stint back in Germany
and then joined the Army downunder. Various escapades and sundry dastardly accomplishments in places one enjoys leaving.
After that, a life of variety and mostly quiet desperation trying to figure out the world and myself. Learned some things, lost
some things, but the grace of God most evident when looking back and wondering why I'm still above ground. Some lovely ships passed in the night, still seeking the one to raft up to permanently. No more ad-hoc bareboat charter
cruises in the meantime, it's either sailing in company or singlehanding
At the moment, high and dry about 900ft above sea level in backwoods Germany
, yearning to cast off the uneaqual yoke of what is facetiously called civilisation, or at least reduce the dosage. Dad passed on some years ago, Mum is still soldiering on and I'll be in her neighbourhood while she's still with us.
Using the time now to prepare the Great Escape to Sea. Previous experience with the sea mostly stinkpotting (see bottom of page for photographic evidence of this heinous crime) in dinghies, power boats to 14m, landing craft, tugs and LARCS (ultimate dinghies!). Limited sailing experience, but this is the bug that has bitten me and I'm permanently addicted. You're never too old to learn, or drown, or something.
After much research
and mental contortions and learning
from other's successes or almost ran's, my dream boat and gear
is firming up in my mind:
and masts, wood/alloy/bamboo spars (still firming up various aspects). Internal frames, longitudinal stringers, lapstrake (yes, in steel....this is an unusual and strong boat).
Colin Archer/James Caird principles of heavy weather
ability and self-righting
Junk Schooner rig with options of two large junk sails
or one storm trysail directly above CC (stayed between foremast bitts and mainmast head
, loose foot). I'm not in a hurry, but from a beam reach forward I'll surprise you.
Prefer no engine
at all, still nutting out possible electric
drive option for singlehanded close quarters maneuvring. This would mean panels
, windmill, drogue
dynamo, genset for emergency
power/welding and inadvertently frying customs
agents and/or self with bodgied up electric lifelines
(that last was a joke)
layout still mutating, probably the most laborious braingrinding of the whole design. Prefer combination timber varnished/painted, tiles in places, this is a boat to make a real sailor's giblets tingle, not a floating lounge or gin palace. Final fitout probably in region where nice timber is cheap
Large hard hull dinghy
of the Wherry/Whaler type, mainly oars and sail, possible electric outboard
, worst case a small reliable outboard
.....one of every kind available, to satisfy every cruiser's foibles and prevent endless argument threads....coupled together in a double chain/rode type King Arthur's circle to prevent accusations of favouritism.
JSD off the stern for really heavy seas, sensible liferaft
to tow behind dinghy
or for the kids
to paddle in on shore.
Parasail, perhaps with backpack motor
, just because I think they're cool.
by anything I can lay my mitts on, starting with the simplest and most reliable. Sun, stars and watch have already done me better than good fancy gear
in the hands of rubes.
No television. Haven't had one in 10 years, stupid enough as it is without external assistance.
, unless the laws change and I can have my CIWS on the mastead, Mk19/BMG.50 in the cockpit
and an RPG in my ankle pocket as a holdout. In the meantime, I have my intercontinental ballistic beard roller-furled and ready to unleash on the foolish at all times. Be afraid. Or be friendly, I'm quite cuddly and charming, really.
A few more personal details if you're still here...lots of books
pass before me, my music
tastes are leaning ever more strongly toward "the older the better", as long as it is tasteful and wholesome (ask again if this is puzzling/intriguing). Alcohol and all good things in moderation, and grace and patience toward all (this is hard, and not just for me).
That's it for now, looking forward to slogging the hard mile of preparation and meeting a CF'er out there somewhere sometime.
Btw, my first name is the same as a famous lebanese australian hairdresser, and my surname is the same as the bloke below...not sure if we're related, but permit
me my fantasies.
And here is Exhibit A, your honour. The gentleman on the left is Dad, the idiot holding the painter is the defendant, and the blurry bit bottom right foreground is Mum's finger. Location is Raby Bay boatramp of Redlands Boat Club Cleveland Qld about 1987.
Fair winds and a snug harbour, and splice the mainbrace please.