Luxury and Indulgence compared with Privilege and Opportunity

We have now been sailing for exactly a year and during that time had numerous friends join us on the boat and had communication with many more. Our friends being generally of the outspoken variety, do not hesitate to hurl insults and heap abuse and the nature of their chirping would suggest that we wallow in a life of indulgence and luxury aboard our yacht, idling away the hours sipping cocktails, being fanned by palm fronds and admiring nubile wenches cavorting on sun drenched beaches (this would of course be me observing the crew!).


Those that have actually joined us on the boat do grudgingly admit to new insights into the relentlessly physical nature of life aboard. However, they remain stubbornly dismissive of most of my pitiful and heart wrenching laments – so I must lobby my cause here.

We are indeed privileged to have been able to briefly put on hold the hardship of earning an income while we take our ‘gap year’, and to enjoy enough fitness and health to spend that time on our boat in order to grasp this opportunity.

Because you are so smart you will have noticed that the key words of the venture are privilege and opportunity – not luxury and indulgence!

Consider your daily long, hot shower followed by fluffy dry towel and freshly laundered clothes and compare this with the meager trickle, cold, at the best of times or no shower at all when fresh water is rationed or we have no fresh water (i.e. when you have a Sea Recovery watermaker that has been under repair - under warranty – for the past three months). Scarcity of fresh water necessitates jumping into the sea off the back of the boat wielding a bar of soap, which does not lather in sea water! Followed by a wipe down with a multipurpose towel that has seen too many purposes that day and clothes that only pretend to be dry. Nothing is ever really dry. But occasionally our sea bath is accompanied by the magic of dense bioluminescence of thousands of tiny stars, down to the depth of your feet - that simply cannot be captured on film. Lying back in the dark seawater and making ‘snow angels’ that stir up millions of luminescent stars and then emerging to find some of these brilliant lights sticking to you. Having the opportunity to experience such a memorable event makes all the cold boat-showers no hardship at all.

Never was an invention more worthy of a knighthood than the flushing masterpiece of Sir Thomas Crapper and the 110mm diameter water borne sewage system. A simple flush makes it all disappear. Forever. Guaranteed! Sheer genius! Why, oh why do boat builders inflict on us 38mm pipes that are devoid of any significant water pressure? And that pipe is 38mm for only a brief instant before constricting to nothing by scaling, deposition and those special installation kinks. I’m afraid I cannot find a positive opportunity to balance this one! Except perhaps the profound relief when all the boat systems combine and make the fish happy.

Picture yourself striding through your spacious house, flicking the remote and easing into your air-conditioned car, flicking another switch for the automated garage doors and proceeding apace towards your selected gratification of the moment (noting in passing that you are dry, freshly groomed and not breathless). I on the other hand suffer the relentless hassle of launching the dinghy, loading and boarding this gyrating beast in the prevailing seas, navigating to the rusty pier where I scale the steel girders, secure the dinghy amongst the congestion of dinghies already there and offer up a quick prayer that some idiot does not untie mine for fun or in neglect (or steal my outboard motor); walking, walking some more, did I mention walking? perhaps some motorcycling if I’m lucky (or feeling lucky!). Any journey onto land inevitably involves buying provisions which means loading up the motorcycle like a beast of burden, back to the dinghy, load up that unstable beast by lowering fragile packets from the pier, or perhaps the added excitement of a beach launch through the surf – made even more memorable by the tide having receded leaving 200m of exposed mud, back to the yacht (hopefully still there) unloading uphill onto the yacht (with the fragile packets now adding the special challenge of being wet), and then hoisting up the bloody dinghy (125kg of motor, fuel tank and boat). Eeiish!!

But then the dinghy also introduces us to the privilege of racing playful dolphins that swerve and dive only inches from the boat; discovering, diving and snorkeling fantastic reefs; fishing the gentleman’s way despite the yacht being at anchor; exploring caves and hongs and deserted lagoons; and perversely, being able to hoist the dinghy aboard and enhance the feeling of independence and readiness for the next destination.

Dishwashing – for years our dishwasher on land had all the fun. As the non-cook on board I have the opportunity to re-discover and appreciate the ruthless efficacy of dishwashing soap and the sensuous pleasure of caressing the grease and gunk off the non-stick frying pan in a foamy explosion of sparkly soap bubbles: ..… Ah! how travel broadens the mind and opens new horizons!!

The internet and computers – fortified by a mighty army of anti-virus, anti-malware, anti-spyware and firewalls; naturally all updated constantly. And I mean constantly, because our internet connection speed does not allow for anything more than serving the update demands of these masters! Experts predict dire consequences of infected and therefore non-functioning computers that will inevitably result from anything less than code red vigilance at wi-fi spots and public internet access in Thailand. The result is a computer so slowed down with conflicting and self-serving protection software that it does not function in any event. I’m trying to find the positive here but the best I can do is promote Apple or cheapos that you can throw away!

Drinks on deck at sunset, in splendid isolation, with spectacular views and balmy breezes – Yes! I love it - so go ahead and be envious. I offer you only the small consolation that perhaps I lacked the fortitude to cart the drinks along the tortuous dinghy route described above. Yeah, right!

Changing a light bulb. Our spare bulbs are stored in a box in the starboard engine compartment – in order to get to engine, remove bedding and mattress and suffer the wrath of the crew; put foot into filthy water in engine compartment bilge – find sponge and clean out bilges; note that the v-belt tension for the sea water cooling pump is loose – fetch spanners; tighten stud to tighten v-belt; give daily portion of blood after nicking hand on sharp edge; over-tighten stud and twist it off completely; discover new words and concepts; jury rig a webbing strap and cable ties around an engine mount to get some tension on the v-belt. Note to self – arrange for first class, English speaking diesel mechanic with access to machine shop to remove bracket with offending broken stud and return quickly bearing superb workmanship and negligible invoice! Find bulb. Return to light fitting to find it corroded solid. Fetch pliers to apply judicious force. Discover pliers are rusted solid. Get penetrating oil and Q20 / WD40 and apply also to the side cutters, the non-shifting shifting spanner and to the machete. Rust has made machete blunt – sharpen this (at the back edge of the boat because you are smart and have learnt, the hard way, that rust particles cannot easily be removed from gelcoat). Discover that rust nevertheless still falls onto and stains gelcoat. Drink Beer. Drink more beer and revel in the feeling of a job well done. By now it is night and you wonder why it is dark even with the light switch on. Luxury and indulgence! Hah! (True story).

Anchorage and passage – safety is a 24/7 pre-occupation. In foul weather, a stable house would invite you to snuggle down with a good book / DVD / partner and perhaps emerge a little later for a refreshing stroll to the nearby coffee shop. Instead we snuggle deeper into smelly foul-weather clothes and wet boots, worry about absolutely everything from being run down by a ship, suffering major breakages, dragging anchor, generally cocking up something – to not having anything warm to eat or drink. However, I admit that the privilege of being able to move our entire ‘cottage at the beach’ to a completely new beach in a few hours - with new panorama, new diving, new people and new places to explore – and fishing en route – provides great opportunity.

Travelling to new countries, locations and experiences. You have a computer online and can find out anything, you have a telephone that works and know who to call to fix whatever and you have a car that enables you to meet face to face. You enjoy the therapeutic pleasure of regaling your friends with accounts of frustrating issues while drinking copious amounts of beer that you got cheaply from a little place you found. On an overseas vacation, everything is temporary and can wait until you get back! That is luxury! The price we pay includes comfort and convenience and the familiarity of home. The countries we have visited – some of the courtesy flags we hoisted while in each of these are in the photo above (South Africa, Mozambique, Bassas de India (France), Madagascar, Seychelles, Chagos, Maldives, Sumatra, Thailand and Malaysia) each impose their own brand of bureaucracy, offer their own selection of supplies and facilities – or not; but in any event, all on terms and in a language foreign to our frame of reference. They do however form part of a kaleidoscope of experiences and opportunities to explore the country, interact with the people, learn something (not least of which patience, tolerance and humility), and enjoy the various activities – everything from the modes of travel, the food?, the diving, the humour, the interactions with people, to the natural beauty and features of the environment. Luxury and indulgence is certainly not a feature of our daily fare, but fantastic opportunities for life and experience certainly are and that is a privilege.