Jackie Parry – author


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Top 20 Cruising Realities No-One Talks about!

I didn’t talk to my husband for two days when his peculiar answers to my naïve nautical questions reached my bewildered ears. Back then, as a mere fledgling to sailing, my raw researching met brutal honesty. Seeking a sailboat and home, to travel the planet, I tried to grasp the financials and what, exactly, was I letting myself in for.

“How much does it cost to buy and then maintain a boat?” Coming from the corporate world I was gearing up to write in-depth project and budget plans, but abruptly shook those thoughts from my organised head when Noel replied.

“It’ll take every penny we have.”

“Oh right, well, what’s so great about sailing?” Expecting to be assailed with vivid pictures of slicing, splendidly through clear, flat water, with handsome palm trees and white sandy beaches supplying a dreamlike backdrop, the image shattered as Noel’s ruthless reply tore through my reverie,

“Getting to port,” he said, “and the local bar”.

Seven years later and over 40,000 miles clocked, I can see the wisdom in his answers.

Getting into port is one of the best bits! Daniel's Bay, Marquesas.

Getting into port is one of the best bits! Daniel’s Bay, Marquesas.

Enduring the Escapade

Long term cruising is an incredible adventure and hard work. Arriving in a new country or town, our thoughts steer to, how do we check in? Where do we get fuel and potable water? How much is it?

The men talk amps and engines the girls talk laundry and supermarkets. Noel, Mariah and I are on our last leg in the superb south Pacific Ocean. Aside from reflecting on our magnificent voyage so far, a few ludicrous “learning’s” deserve a mention.

Cleaning cupboards reality - it is not your 'average' kitchen.

Cleaning cupboards reality – it is not your ‘average’ kitchen.

First, let’s be positive. Our escapade divorces and insulates us from the world’s day-to-day problems. We are not ashamed to bury our heads in the sand and enjoy the “ignorance is bliss” scenario, while we can. News never changes; it is sad and depressing today and tomorrow.

Frequently we meet like-minded people, of all nationalities, where age is no friendship barrier. Hooking up with similar sized boats and sharing the ocean brings the comfort of companionship and the joy in sharing the dolphins that play on our bow during those perfect sailing days.

Mostly, for us, it is the freedom of living simply. We have no letterbox where small bits of paper with large numbers intrude into our sanctuary, sucking dry the bank account to allow landlubber luxuries. And yes, there is the odd G & T (Vodka for me please) while watching spectacular sunsets, doing an anchor pirouette, savouring the sedate, shifting views as we would fine wine.

Secrets of the initiated

Over the year’s advice, hints and tips have deluged our salt saturated minds until our armpits are all but overflowing. We thought we’d heard it all, but here are some unmentionables that we learned along the way:

(1) Constipation – the most fluid of us struggle on long trips. On watch, the comfy cockpit seat will become well acquainted with your behind, causing, what we refer to as – the cork effect.

(2) Seasickness – the toughest of us will become seasick. After corkscrewing for 48 hours solid, your tummy will give up all hope of hanging onto to anything. Most of us unwillingly feed the fish at some point. It is like puberty, you just have to get through it. Despite suicidal thoughts during the worst bouts of seasickness, once you have reached your haven and spent a few days in flat water, going back out into lumpy seas suddenly becomes a good idea again. On the plus side it is a great diet!

(3) Toilet tantrums – at some point most marine toilets will block. If you have not been allocated the repair task, leave the boat while it is being fixed. Build up of pressure while trying to pump it clear will create the most spectacular explosion.  Becoming AWOL at this time will help avoid a good dose of (5).

(4) Landlubbers – your farewell from home will be tearful, exciting and filled with unfulfilled promises from friends and family, who assure you that they will keep you up to date on home happenings. After two years you will be grateful for an email once every six months from your bestest buddies, all of which think you spend your entire life sitting on the aft deck sipping G & T.

G&T on the aft deck - after this I'd need one.

G&T on the aft deck – after this I’d need one.

(5) Arguments – the closest relationship will suffer at times. Falling out with your spouse is inevitable especially when you are woken three and a half minutes before you are due on watch at 3 am. Learn to talk about it and laugh, it can get damn lonely otherwise and create a yearning for (4).

(6) Moon-fright – the moon is crafty bugger. You know it is due to rise, but as you scan the horizon there is a luminous light that assumes the shape of an approaching aircraft carrier. This will be the moon, strategically cloaked with black cloud to form heart-stopping shapes. However, the moon will become your buddy, especially if dealing with number (5).

(7) Cravings – two days out of a long haul sail you will desperately desire all those things you haven’t got.  Roast chicken, ice cream…

(8) Spiders – having abhorrence to the skittering critters my husband assured me that life on board meant no spiders. This seems reasonable, after all we are away from land a lot of the time. Reality is that I am sure we have had a hand inter breeding crawly critters from different countries, probably creating a whole new weird and wonderful breed.

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(9) Time – boat maintenance is a full time job in addition to washing, cleaning and sourcing supplies. If you are fortunate enough to momentarily catch up, items (1) or (2) – or both if you are unlucky, will fill the gaps. At the end of each day you’ll just have time to read a page or two of that book you’ve always wanted to read, before sparking out.

(10) Fishing – you will fish once per trip. After you have heaved the huge dolphin fish on board and it has thrashed itself to death, splattering blood over the clean, white cockpit and your battle weary body, the fishing gear will gather salt in the Lazorette for the rest of the journey. By the next trip, you will have forgotten the sticky mess and break out the lines.

(11) Sinking – on your watch, typically in the graveyard hours, you’ll check the bilge for the last time before the welcome warmth of bed and the bilge will be full of water.  Instantaneously you are wide-awake and have no problem in screeching at your partner who is obviously having their best ever sleep. Turning the mains off is not an option and two hours later you will find the solution to the problem is something as simple as greasing the stern gland. Finally, you’ll crawl into bed and the stampeding adrenaline will keep you awake until twenty minutes before you are due back on watch.

(12) Plip-plop – you will loose something overboard, deal with it, it is gone.

(13) Fitness – you will not become fit sailing. Although you do become trim, see (2).

(14) Turning back – face facts that the storm you can no longer punch into has beaten you.  It is not failure to turn back, it is common sense and above all the boat’s and your safety – also helps relieve item (2).

Fixing a sheared pin in an exotic place (Tahiti).

Fixing a sheared pin in an exotic place (Tahiti).

(15) On a long passage – when the fresh food has all gone (and if you are like us, without fridge) after a week tinned food will taste all the same. It will have that unmistakable metallic flavour (tinny flavouring assists number (2)).

(16) Dust – dust will collect with intensity, especially in those tiny, boat shape, awkward places. Adds to (9).

(17) Company – your partner is only ten feet away sleeping below, at that time you are single-handing. It can be lonely, maybe a good thing if dealing with (1), (2) or (5)!

(18) Plunging – on moonless nights you plunge into thick darkness, with peripheral vision coming to a shocking end at the bow. It’s best not to dwell on this too much.

(19) Meteorites – the dark nights are abundant with “shooting stars”, but watch for the big ones. Out of nowhere, a spot light will beam down on you while you sit quietly in the cockpit minding your own business. A huge, bright meteorite will give you occasion to create a few more grey hairs.

(20) Advice – some will be good and some, well, let’s just say, some will be totally fictitious. You will meet some gold medal winning “know it alls”, for example this article, is it fact or fiction? – best way is to get out there and find out for yourself.

Coming into glorious destinations, like the Bahamas, you can never sit back and relax.

Coming into glorious destinations, like the Bahamas, you can never sit back and relax.

For lots more great tips, tricks, ideas and advice on living on board, see our book Cruisers’ AA.


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The good, bad, ugly, interesting and amusing

We’re having a grand ride south, assisted by the current, a twenty knot breeze and a rather splendid DAF motor. We are now near Avignon and enjoying swinging at anchor again.

Here’s a summary of our eight-day trip so far:

The ugly

A pretty child painted on the side of a nuclear reactor chimney – the child’s legs glowing with what can be assumed as contamination: The de-nuded hill-side to fulfil the desire for pretty stone houses.

Nuclear power station and denuded hillside

Nuclear power station and denuded hillside

The good

Fine views, striking ruins, tranquility, safety, enjoyment, togetherness, travel and movement watching France pootle-past; while autumn gathers momentum.

A pretty place

A pretty place

The interesting

The vast stone towers remind us of wombats. What do furry Australian creatures have to do with French ruins? Well, wombats have this odd behaviour where they pooh on stones – not grass, or pavement; on stones and only stones. The French have this odd behaviour of finding the tallest, skinniest, highest peak and building a stone fortress upon it.

The Australian wombat!

The Australian wombat. (Picture not taken in France!). Image courtesy of Michelle Meiklejohn at FreeDigitalPhotos.net

The amusing

While coming out of a rather large lock (drop of 17 metres or 19 metres, depending which book you read) we were met by three ships all vying for the right position to make an entrance or to tie up. The vast volume of water that had just been disgorged from the massive lock left swirls and eddies to test the most skilled skipper. I was at the helm, Noel looked at the wall of ships, spinning with the currents and said, ‘Yikes, just tell me when we’re through safely, I have my eyes closed.’

‘That’s okay,’ I said, ‘so do I!’

Door opening but eyes shut!

Door opening but eyes shut!

The bad

… well, there isn’t any really.

france


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Floating on a cloud!

Yesterday as we puttered alongside the paprika sprinkled hills showing their Autumn change, we decided it was time to start anchoring each evening.

Paprika coloured leaves showing the on-set on Autumn.

Paprika coloured leaves showing the on-set on Autumn.

While sailing we spent ninety-five percent of our time anchoring at each port. While traversing the Great Loop in America we had vast, stunning bays all to ourselves, as everyone went into marinas. Thirteen years ago, in France on our sailboat, we anchored most of the time.

I love the rituals that go with anchoring, where we both concentre on the sounder, our position and the best place; the finite control to stop the boat just where we want her, before applying astern propulsion so the chain is laid out nicely in a line.

Noel 'coaxing' the windlass back into action.

Noel ‘coaxing’ the windlass back into action.

The boat easing to a gentle stop with the anchor dug in and the chain straight then slack, restful. The anchor light set up for when nature’s light slinks off behind the horizon, and raising the black ball. The noting of position using bearings to know whether we’ve dragged.

A novel idea for an anchor light pole.

A novel idea for an anchor light pole.

On anchor it is softer, there are no lines to pull in one direction then another as the boat shifts. Rouge Corsair is held steady by the catenary in the chain, acting as a soft spring. She moves with the water, everything is so much gentler, while we watch the slowly shifting view.

Not a bad view from our 'island'

Not a bad view from our ‘island’

The new solar panels earn their keep and make it all worthwhile, as now we have our own private island with no neighbours – bliss!

We are where the circle is, off the main channel.

We are where the circle is, off the main channel. The green line is our route line.


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Follow those geese!

We are wondering if we are going the right way. The autumn leaves are more established the further south we go. We are also wondering if there are snow-capped mountains around the corner!

We’ve done the right thing – waited for the geese to indicate south and we are following them.

Today’s our fifth day on the move and we puttered past Lyon as time is pressing and we’ve already been there twice before. We’ve moored at Syripel or, as it is called on our other charts, Les Roches de Condrieu (40 km south of Lyon).

Main lesson learned today: check the DBA site out for updates…. our book-charts (which are embarrassingly old) have a nice spot drawn where we thought we could anchor. Our electronic charts just have a blue mooring buoy.

For some strange reason we didn’t check the DBA information (as we have done every day so far) and we were getting ready to anchor. Turning the corner, we saw a huge mariner, of which we are now a part of, paying our entire monthly budget to – sigh! … We are, however, having a grand old time… here are some pics.

A day out of St Jean de Losne and we'd seen very few boats, until we got to this lock. It was like a party - such fun - they Aussie boat behind us were just lovely.

A day out of St Jean de Losne and we’d seen very few boats, until we got to this lock. It was like a party – such fun – they Aussie boat behind us were just lovely.

That urge to see around the next corner!

That urge to see around the next corner! Seille River (for one night – so very pretty!)

Macon, pretty but noisy night.

Macon, pretty but noisy night.

Lyon

Lyon

Autumn is here!

Autumn colours

Sunny when I am at the helm.

Sunny when I am at the helm.

Raining when I am working the lines!

Raining when I am working the lines!


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On a Barge – Ideas

I had no idea what Noel was working on when he said, ‘I need to buy some timber.’ Noel loves timber, he picks it up off the side of the road, he rummages in bins for it… we always have a good timber supply on board.

He cycled back carrying a long plank of cheap-ish wood (there, that shows my knowledge of wood!). I heard the drill and saw, and poked my head out to see these….

From the boat

From the boat

From the bank

From the bank

To increase our range of mooring opportunities and protect our expensive underwater paint, Noel came up with this idea. I am sure old hands have done something similar/better already, but I think these are pretty great and wanted to share them with you.

Noel setting up the planks (and our OLD paintwork!)

Noel setting up the planks (and our OLD paintwork!)

The different holes give us a different range. Currently we are about one metre away from the bank. Our adopted cat likes them too – they are her personal-boarding platform!

A glimpse of our NEW paintwork...more to come!

A glimpse of our NEW paintwork…more to come!


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Rain Catcher . . . and they say romance is dead! Part 3

I’ve been reminded about how crappy sanding a boat can be. I must have whinged about the job a fair bit as Noel bought me an electric sander today – and they say romance is dead!

Covered in a layer of sanding dust and looking forward to a beer!

Covered in a layer of sanding dust and looking forward to a beer!

This gift is almost as ‘romantic’ as my first wedding anniversary gift, ‘The 12 Volt Bible’!! But that’s a different, (and a rather incredible), story (more details here).

With the pipes clean I turned my attention to the next part, preparing the wheelhouse roof for painting.

First I removed all the loose paint, then I became a sanding maniac. My sore knees, stiff muscles and the fine coating of ‘dust’ reminded me how much I hate sanding.

Lying down on the job - I was just glad I didn't fall off!

Lying down on the job – I was just glad I didn’t fall off!

But a good painting job is all about the preparation and after one full afternoon and a full morning – hurrah! I could finally paint!

To the paint, I added Rustol Owatrol, Antirouille Incolore, the French equivalent of Penetrol, which makes oil-based paint stick and flow better. I added fifty percent to the first coat, ten percent to the second coat. The mixture is very good at covering rusty parts of steel, provided there are there no loose flakes.

The first (‘scratch’) coat went on well and highlighted all the bits I missed. The dapple pattern from the rain that followed left me a bit peeved! But, the second coat (and final) is now on and I can play plumber next – extending the ‘down-pipes’ to the water tanks.

Before

Before

After

After

My new sander and I will work on the rest of the boat . . . soon . . . when I recover!

Recovery food! Chocolate mouse, macadamia and vanilla ice-cream and strawberry tart!

Recovery food! Chocolate mouse, macadamia and vanilla ice-cream and strawberry tart!


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Rain-Catcher – part 2 (It Broke!)

Well the ‘you-beaut-fan-dangled’- cleaning wotsit BROKE! – on its first use! After saying some rather naughty words I sat, and had another drink . . . I mean think.

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Where I had ‘made’ the thread, the handle snapped!

I needed:

  • to get the brush into the pipe
  • a brush small enough to go around corners
  • a way to move the brush up and down to clean the inside of the pipe

So, I cut the handle off the brush and trimmed the brush down (a new one). Then I drilled a hole through the middle and plaited some string (for strength) and threaded that through the hole. Then, to that string, I tied some strong cord. Ha Ha! That should do it!

Small brush

Small brush

Until I realised it was impossible to get the cord to thread down the down-pipe. After much uhhming and arrhing – I dismantled the gate-chain on the boat and tied that to the cord. This slinky chain slipped down the pipe dragging the cord with it.

Cord and chain

Cord and chain

The top of the roof

The top of the roof

What followed was a rather awkward tug-of-war on the cord, each end, to clean the pipes, but it worked! Success. Now I have to get sanding and painting!


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Family trip to Besancon to meet friends

The flood rain meant we had to stop and enjoy Ranchot for a few days, which wasn’t very tough. Dad particularly loved the little village, ‘it was very pretty.’

Pretty scenery

Pretty scenery

Kieran (my nephew) stirred up his creative juices and turned a Lipton’s Yellow Label Tea bag into fishing equipment. Utilising the staple and string Kieran made a hook and line and attempted to capture a whale.

 

Kieran having a quick snooze

Kieran having a quick snooze

With rested crew we were all ready to tackle the swirling water and we pointed the bows towards Besancon. Gentle locks, eerie tunnels, cups of tea and a pleasantly cool day accompanied the intrepid crew who were ready for anything.

Into the black hole

Noel on the stern line

Mum became navigator and loved the team work of the crew while traversing the canals.

 

Our navigator

Our navigator

Dad working hard on the bow

Dad working hard on the bow

In Besancon our lovely friends Linda and Bill met us with healthy grins and a fabulous few days have been spent talking boats, books, writing and wine.

Arriving into Besancon

 

Love lockets

The grey clouds are now starting their march across the sky. A serious card game is developing, and many satisfied yawns can be heard beneath the pitter-patter of rain.

I want one


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International Experience

We’ve ordered a marine toilet from Italy and solar panels from Germany. We’ve got a Dutch bank account and a Dutch built boat. All instructions, on the boat, are in French.

We’re ordering fuses from Holland, ‘they don’t exist anymore,’ insists the French chandlery.

My Dutch phone keeps texting me in Dutch. I can’t get my French phone to work – I have to back up the Sim first, in order to back up the Sim I have to activate the Sim, in order to activate the Sim I have to back up the Sim.

The French dongle (sounds like a poodle) is working just fine – phew!

Thank goodness for lovely places like Ranchot to calm my befuddled brain. And my lovely family from the UK (mum, dad & Kieran (my nephew)) – to help keep me sane!

Noel, mum, dad & Kieran

 


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On the move – at last!

The town of Dole is remarkable for several reasons. The three most pertinent reasons for me are because:

1) The scientist Louis Pasteur was born here (he was the guy who came up with the food preparing process known as pasteurization, and he also developed a vaccination for anthrax and rabies).

Louis Pasteur

Louis Pasteur

2) It is a stunningly beautiful place, and

Dole Cathedral

3) It is our first stop on our first voyage on our first barge!

My nephew Kieran is great crew

After leaving our health Spar on the hard at St Jean de Losne dry dock, where the fumes supplied a healthy nose bore, emptying out all that crap that’s been sitting there; and where daily skin and teeth exfoliation were complimentary from the neighbouring sandblasting – we finally cast off and moved!

Before departure I confused (and scared) a few people as I decided to inflict a name change on Dole, I told everyone we were going to Dove!

Hidden delights in Dole

Family arrived, mum, dad and nephew Kieran, and they instantly felt at home. They easily fell into the boating way of life and before long we were on another voyage to Ranchot; which was interesting as we did not plan to stop there – until the floods. More on that soon – with some beautiful pictures of a splendid evening on our unplanned visit.

I want one! A sneak peek at Ranchot.