Sea Gypsies
AKA A simple life part 2
The first leg of this voyage has had some fantastic experiences but also huge frustrations. I've often said that sailors come at both ends of the financial spectrum, a bimodal distribution if you will, those who have made their fortune - and so are sailing - and those may never do so - and so are sailing.
The last two men I crewed for were 70 year old self-made millionaires who always docked their state of the art boats at the best marinas in town. I actively decided not to go with another such man this year, despite a fantastic offer to do so, and, for reasons that weren't even clear to me, chose to join Infinity instead, a rag tag boat of misfits that one has to pay to crew on. I didn't realize how far across the pendulum path I would be swinging.
Infinity's best sails are as patched as secondary roads in Ontario and both the mizzen and the main are always flown with one reef in due to huge rips at the bottom too large to be fixed even with the onboard sail sewing machine. Many standard systems are non-existant (auto helm, AIS, sat phone, ...) or permanently broken (radar, washing machine, ...) or exist in the free version only (charts) and weather updates are gained as they were 100 years ago by detouring to visit other boats and asking if they know what's ahead. Needless to say, we anchor out.
The captain's bank account is literally empty. He relies on departing crew's per diem payments to buy food for the next leg, which, as he's both terribly unorganized and a super nice guy, often don't actually materialize. I think to myself that maybe he ought to get people to pay in advance, but, being broke himself, and of a hippy ilk, if anyone claims not to have money he believes them and doesn't charge them anything anyways, which everyone knows, and makes others less likely to actually pony up what they owe. And so it goes. Food for the next leg will be basic; rice and beans, pasta, and bread without even peanut butter because there's no money for that. (I can't help thinking of Drew's boat last summer with the freezer full of salmon and lamb, the nets hanging low loaded with fruit, the fridge stuffed with organic tomatoes and lettuce, and the floor lockers overflowing with Costco's best nuts.) Here ramen noodles are a luxury food, scurvy a real possibility. (My only peeve with the food is that the family eats better than the crew. I was asked to bring certain supplies from Hawaii, which I did, but they were not, it turned out, for general consumption.)
There are jobs to be done and everyone does them, more or less, to the best of their ability. There's a sort of, but very loosey goosey, honour system set up where by you can work off part (but not all) of what you'd otherwise owe by doing extra work over and above cooking and cleaning and ongoing maintenence and standing watch (this extra work includes mainly major repairs and upgrades done when in port, but also, fortunately for me, being teacher in residence for the 4 and 5 year old). So, somewhat ironically, but also totally logically, the paying crew tend to put many more hours into the extra work projects than the crew who are getting a free ride. Clem wants to provide the opportunity to sail with him to everyone, regardless of their financial status, but, due to his good nature and poor bookkeeping skills, he regularily ends up getting taken advantage of. I guess crew have a bimodal financial distribution too.
That said, the future is looking bright for him. A 10 episode Norwegian children's TV Series, Message in a Bottle Season 2, and a short film, Sea Gypsies, were filmed on board last year. Both are being well received and the sequel to Sea Gypsies will be filmed in 2018. These bring in not only money but also notoriety, which, in the long run, might prove more valuable.
My heroes have always been those brave enough to choose to commit to an alternate lifestyle, to take a leap of faith and step onto a path from which there may be no turning back - I would have liked to have lived my own life in such a way but lacked the courage to do so - and Clem is definately one of those people.
So... I did one month on board, could have chosen to leave, but chose to stay.
We will see. I think it's going to be amazing.
AKA A simple life part 2
The first leg of this voyage has had some fantastic experiences but also huge frustrations. I've often said that sailors come at both ends of the financial spectrum, a bimodal distribution if you will, those who have made their fortune - and so are sailing - and those may never do so - and so are sailing.
The last two men I crewed for were 70 year old self-made millionaires who always docked their state of the art boats at the best marinas in town. I actively decided not to go with another such man this year, despite a fantastic offer to do so, and, for reasons that weren't even clear to me, chose to join Infinity instead, a rag tag boat of misfits that one has to pay to crew on. I didn't realize how far across the pendulum path I would be swinging.
Infinity's best sails are as patched as secondary roads in Ontario and both the mizzen and the main are always flown with one reef in due to huge rips at the bottom too large to be fixed even with the onboard sail sewing machine. Many standard systems are non-existant (auto helm, AIS, sat phone, ...) or permanently broken (radar, washing machine, ...) or exist in the free version only (charts) and weather updates are gained as they were 100 years ago by detouring to visit other boats and asking if they know what's ahead. Needless to say, we anchor out.
The captain's bank account is literally empty. He relies on departing crew's per diem payments to buy food for the next leg, which, as he's both terribly unorganized and a super nice guy, often don't actually materialize. I think to myself that maybe he ought to get people to pay in advance, but, being broke himself, and of a hippy ilk, if anyone claims not to have money he believes them and doesn't charge them anything anyways, which everyone knows, and makes others less likely to actually pony up what they owe. And so it goes. Food for the next leg will be basic; rice and beans, pasta, and bread without even peanut butter because there's no money for that. (I can't help thinking of Drew's boat last summer with the freezer full of salmon and lamb, the nets hanging low loaded with fruit, the fridge stuffed with organic tomatoes and lettuce, and the floor lockers overflowing with Costco's best nuts.) Here ramen noodles are a luxury food, scurvy a real possibility. (My only peeve with the food is that the family eats better than the crew. I was asked to bring certain supplies from Hawaii, which I did, but they were not, it turned out, for general consumption.)
There are jobs to be done and everyone does them, more or less, to the best of their ability. There's a sort of, but very loosey goosey, honour system set up where by you can work off part (but not all) of what you'd otherwise owe by doing extra work over and above cooking and cleaning and ongoing maintenence and standing watch (this extra work includes mainly major repairs and upgrades done when in port, but also, fortunately for me, being teacher in residence for the 4 and 5 year old). So, somewhat ironically, but also totally logically, the paying crew tend to put many more hours into the extra work projects than the crew who are getting a free ride. Clem wants to provide the opportunity to sail with him to everyone, regardless of their financial status, but, due to his good nature and poor bookkeeping skills, he regularily ends up getting taken advantage of. I guess crew have a bimodal financial distribution too.
That said, the future is looking bright for him. A 10 episode Norwegian children's TV Series, Message in a Bottle Season 2, and a short film, Sea Gypsies, were filmed on board last year. Both are being well received and the sequel to Sea Gypsies will be filmed in 2018. These bring in not only money but also notoriety, which, in the long run, might prove more valuable.
My heroes have always been those brave enough to choose to commit to an alternate lifestyle, to take a leap of faith and step onto a path from which there may be no turning back - I would have liked to have lived my own life in such a way but lacked the courage to do so - and Clem is definately one of those people.
So... I did one month on board, could have chosen to leave, but chose to stay.
We will see. I think it's going to be amazing.
