Practical course birdwatching

	Distinguishing the Tureluur, Kievit, Smient, Wintertaling and Brandgans from the brand-new birdwatching cabin in the Bourgoyen.
	Trying to understand avifaunal behaviour through imitation.
	Birdwatching is tiring… *Sigh*

Sailing for peace?

Sail Training International (known from the Tall Ships races, now supported by Antwerp) is nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize, because it unites youngsters across all (virtual) borders through sailing – an activity requiring insight in and respect for nature as well as each other.

Ironically, by the third day of our last sailing course together, my brother Jan and I were forbidden to share a boat, as our cursing, swearing and raging was to be heard from nautical miles away. On a two-manned sailing dinghy, we just couldn’t cope with either one of us being the pilot in absolute control. Hence our characteristic zigzag trajectories when one tried to convince the other in a hard-handed way This didn’t prevent us from winning all the club races, though. I guess we just wanted to cross the finish as soon as possible to get rid of each other, or at least to have decent ground under our feet to “take it outside” :-p So on second thoughts, indeed, sailing does promote overture amongst enemies!

Fatal attraction

Cold water and me – there’s something about it. Lemme get this straight: I HATE cold water – to me, a shower equals a liquid sauna, and I start shaking like a Parkinson patient in anaphylactic shock after five minutes in 24°C water. So why did I participate in the annual “shiver dive” in the Blaarmeersen in Gent? I was set up. People lured me there with the excuse of all “swimming together, what fun!” and I ended up alone in the water (“you know, I actually have a sore throat and a headache, it’s probably wiser for me not to go in”)… Also, I wanted to proof for once and for all that I’m not a total wimp when it comes to somewhat cooler water (who am I kidding?). Actually, it felt great. I made it to the 2m depth line AND back, and the glowing afterwards is a great sensation; yes, a “kick”!

I was still under the influence of that “kick”, I guess, when I launched the idea of chartering a sailing yacht again this summer, but not in the heavenly hot Mediterranean this time, oh no… so why not in Scandinavia, of all godforsaken places! Well, after several wimps did withdraw for several invalid reasons, we’re still with five people left who’d love to go. A somewhat more experienced team, this time, to make sure I’ll actually enjoy it more than I’d be stressed by concerns about the boat, as the only responsible, like last time. I’d set my mind on this beauty in Dalarö, but we need to be with seven to keep it within our budget… So, still two more persons required who can already decide for sure they are free and willing to join us from 7-14 July… come on, that’s not a hard choice now, is it?! I refuse to go and float around in a 30 footer, for three reasons: 30 footers and less are model making toys, my ego doesn’t fit in a yacht smaller than 36 ft, and, last but least, a 30 ft yacht takes you no-where as the average speed you can get out of it is 2 knots less than a 42 ft yacht. So, anyone in?

Blue

With these cloudbursts the last few days, all I can think of is putting on my wetsuit and diving…
As we dropped anchor in the bay of Komiza on Vis island in Croatia, the two dive centers located at the waterfront immediately caught our eye and we just couldn’t resist the appealing wreck dive offers. It wasn’t cheap, but a good deal seen the quality of their offer. We dived on the wreck of a steam ship carrying cobblestones, which crashed in a narrow passage between two islands (which we passed the evening before under spinnaker sail, taking over two other yachts as we did, and indeed we had to keep full attention to avoid the shallow zones). The steam ship lies between 10 and 34 meters deep in amazingly clear and blue waters. Of the approximately 100 dives I’ve made, this was the deepest, and apart from the five training dives, the only one outside Oman and hence the first one in the Mediterranean, and merely my third strictly recreational (non-scientific sampling) dive! You bet I enjoyed it, and I’m still sorry two other dives on natural drop-offs at the Kornati islands were cancelled due to overbooking…

An additional video fragment can be downloaded here.

Rays of sunshine lure one down	Unfortunate octopus	“Gee, some dude seriously messed up here…”
Strange, yet peaceful combination of two worlds	Deeper and deeper	Sponges have taken control
Bottom line

Unjealousing

Going out on a sailing trip was the most boring thing I ever did. While in the best case the sea remains calm, the land starts wobbling like a rocking chair after staying some time on a boat. The interior of the boat is designed for 4 dwarfs instead of 8 adults and is competitive to an old oven. The sun is beating on your head and cooking your brains all day, and when it doesn’t, it’s because the sails are blocking the sun, causing the chilly wind to prevail. Winds change unpredictably between too weak and too strong, but share the property of forcing you to the opposite direction you wanted to head. By the time sailing eventually got you where you wanted, your holiday is over and your bank account has dropped far below freezing point. You’re continuously forced to face the same people, day after day, so in the end 25-years-of-marriage-style fighting takes the upper hand in regular conversations. Nothing designed to ease up this hell ever works properly: the hand-pumped toilets, the autopilot, the GPS, the plotter, the VHF and even the motor – all apply for instant demolition in a sudden mood of deep frustration.

Observe and weep.

I’m rich!	“Mariette” has control.	Hardly 6 bft, but it looks cool.
Dos rifos.	“Sjett’n”!	Land? Where?
Bored, again.	A wide-angle, my kingdom for a wide-angle!	Coolness.
I’ll take the spi road and ye’ll take the genoa road and I’ll be on the island afooooore ye!	Focus.	Chill.
Upholding the cliche.	Man over board (MOB).	MOB, the sequel.

Summer start on the Ourthe

9 days late, but then again, better late than never:

Board!	Hot action
Looking for rare insects during lunch break		A White-legged Damselfly; not exactly rare but the only one I managed to photograph
Obstacles ahead		Find the differences with the previous picture

One small step…

I almost forgot to mention I got notified I succeeded the navigation permit exam by 86/90….. Again: one step closer to paradise! Today, I submitted my logbook, the last step in acquiring the necessary permits. Can’t wait… I’m craving for the Mediterranean (i.e. the same weather, minus the window blinds and a computer screen!).

Sailing stories

I’m posting the Ipswich story a bit later than expected – I was feeling too ill to get on with it yesterday night. A sinusitis struck Saturday night. I’m feeling better now, but my eardrums are still terribly under pressure, as if I’m diving at 30m without clearing my ears. I think I wouldn’t be able to dive down 2m in this condition… Not to mention temporary deafness: I constantly need to ask “sorry, say that again?”. I hate it.

Anyway: the sailing part! The piccies are online on the AF community (browse to “Afbeeldingen” on the left, but first scroll down to the bottom picture on the home page ), I won’t post them here again… The weather was lovely, especially on Monday, when a constant (chilly) 4-5 bft blew us directly from Ipswich to Nieuwpoort, and we finished the trip in 9,5 hours without using the engine, except in the harbors and on the river. Saturday too was lovely, at least as for the sun; in the afternoon the wind let us down. Trying to get there sailing all the way, we made a detour of 20 nautical miles, just to follow the wind, but it didn’t work. Finally, we used the engine for two hours to reach our destination…
As for the life on board: we had a fantastic crew of 7, and 14 paying passengers. The latter were all members of a right-wing Flemish radical organization, pleading dissolution of Belgium and formation of a “republic of Flanders”. They wanted us to hoist a huge flag of their organization and a Flemish flag (which we did, following the “customer is king” principle) and to replace the Belgian flag at the back of the boat with a Flemish one – which we legally couldn’t do. Also, some of them thought they were funny by asking if they could fill out “Flemish” in the nationality column on the passenger list. A remarkably high percentage of them were rich, old, arrogant bastards who’d thought they knew everything and who felt the need to constantly show off their extensive experience. Not by doing anything, mind you, all of them were just hanging around reading all day. They had no interest in sailing whatsoever. Particularly one of them got me reeeaaaaaallly pissed off. At the last barbeque night, the crew chattered and drank until 2 am. As we needed to leave at 7am, we decided to get up at 6. Since getting up after 4 hours of sleep is not an easy job when you’re starting to get ill, with a chronical shortage of sleep and a slight hang-over, I was waking up very slowly and eventually got out of my sleeping bag at 6.30 (as the first of the crew). I normally wake up in a good mood, but given the circumstances there wasn’t much needed to get me up on the wrong side of the bed. One of the passengers suddenly commanding me (not even telling me or joking!) that I had exactly 20 minutes left to take a shower sure as hell did the job, I can tell you. I think I’ve rarely ever looked so angry at someone. It didn’t get any better later on: as I was steering, he suddenly “asked” if I wouldn’t ease the sails as the wind was backing. I just shook my head silently, to which he immediately replied “Oh, I knew you were going to say that” in the most arrogant way imaginable. I wasn’t the only one of the crew disturbed by such a behavior: the difference in opinion was very clear at the leaving drink, when the passengers stood in a closed circle, separated from the crew.
The atmosphere within the crew was alright though. It might had something to with the fact that six bottles of water, milk, juice and cola was the only non-alcoholic supply onboard for 21 people for 3 full days. Everywhere you opened a door, there was alcohol in one form or another. And as sailors can’t drink on duty, we had to clear the supply in two nights That was probably the only reason why we could enjoy the night out in Ipswich, which was a tourist attraction in itself. The streets were crowded with girls wearing a tiny skirt, a revealing top and loads of make-up (no, nothing else), and guys in a jeans and shirt (to be allowed in clubs), strolling from pub to club and back. There was a hell of a noise everywhere, the police were patrolling and arresting drunk drivers and ambulances had a busy night… Competitive with Aalst’s carnival, if you ask me, even though I’ve never been there.

This morning was a bit more at ease in the garden of the Sint Pietersabdij for the open-air “biological” breakfast for students, in the framework of the “biological week”. Sometimes it’s advantageous to keep one foot in “student life” Besides, eating from the full trays on the sloping ground reminded me of eating onboard a sailing yacht…

Get ready for action

According to Metro, yesterday was the coldest 1st of June (10°C) since temperatures were recorded! I don’t care – the sun is shining, temperatures are expected to double by tomorrow, and I’ll be out and dry (?) on the North Sea, sailing to Ipswich and enjoying the dolphins (ahem). And… correcting a proof of A.’s dissertation somwhere in between

I discovered an additional advantage of a new computer: GTA has found its way back in and brings solace to the last, dull hour before bed-time on a late, cold and rainy working night like yesterday… With the same combined effect of an old-style action movie and a hilareous comedy, only better!!

Seafaring techniques

After Dranouter aan Zee, Oostende voor Anker was the second disappointing spring week-end festival of the year. Both were overly crowded happenings under a sunny 30°C last year, while this year both were moderately visited under a 15°C cool breeze with a hesitating sun. As they put it on the weather forecast: still too cold according to historical averages. Global warming? Either it has already struck by stopping the warm Gulf current to this region, or I could live with a few degrees extra, really…
Anyway, apart from the good old Swan Fan Makkum (I’m craving once to sail on that one), my attention was drawn to a book shelter where I found a book called Spinnaker sailing, a title I’d been looking for for a few weeks now, since we also ordered a spinnaker on our yacht in Croatia for this summer. I’ve intensively used a spinnaker sail during a racing course a few years ago, but that was on Dragon, with a remarkably advanced system of launching and recovering the spinnaker. Setting a spinnaker on an ordinary yacht is nothing like it, so I could do with a bit of extra literature. I noticed the book was somewhat damaged by the rain, and I immediately asked if I could buy it at half the price.
“That’s alright”, the Dutch guy behind the desk replied, “so 15,95 divided by two, that makes…” “7,5″, I suggested. “Right… er… Let’s see… Well, okay, why not, go ahead”… I was actually surprised my Omani bidding skills yield some results here, especially with a Dutch guy.
The book features some cool pictures of capsized yachts. It’s definitely impossible to capsize a yacht using standard sails. There is actually only one way to keel over: get a spinnaker and abuse it. That’s why I bought the book, you see. To see how I’m not supposed to handle the spinnaker in Croatia, naturally. Also, the book describes the emotions a crew can encounter when you’re sailing a spinnaker, as in “the crew looks desperate and confused at the spinnaker which has been hoisted in a knot”, and “untying the knot can be extremely stressful, especially with an inpatient skipper”. Hehe, I like this stuff