Phuza Thursday

In South Africa we have adopted many traditions form our friends on the other side of the big pond: Tequila Tuesdays, Wacky Wednesdays, Casual Friday, etc.  But being South African we have our own too: Phuza Thursday.

'Phuza' is a Zulu word, meaning drink.  Since this has no reference to a specific type of drink, all the colorful people of our country can enjoy this day and feel united.  Children can drink sodas, the dogs can drink water, the English can drink tea, the Jamaicans can drink Rum, the French can drink Champagne, the Boere(farmers) can drink brandy & coke and I,  . . .  .I can drink red wine.

Since it is Phuza Thursday today, I will not bore you with a long post, but leave you with a quote form a book I read:

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She always considered the sailboat to be a remarkably therapeutic device.  Just a few minutes on the water purged away the daily stresses while calming the emotions.  She often joked that the country needed more sailboats and fewer psychologists

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Sailor Math

So I haven’t sailed in 2 years 4 months, all just to come to the root of who I am, Smilicus.  I usually understand better if the problem can be put into numbers or equations.  It gives me a sort of unclouded, objective, quantifiable view of the bigger picture.

I believe one can easily express yourself (especially myself) by the following equation:

X = L + P + S

Gibberish you say.   Well let me explain

L = Love 

P = Passion

S = Sailor

where

S = B + Y

B = what’s in your blood(figuratively)  &  Y = other stuff

So let’s define it a bit further. Y (Other stuff) is all the nonsense society wants from you: Car, work, house, clothes, etc.  Although it is a big part of one’s daily life, it is not necessary big part of your being. I believe B(lood) is something that we certainly can’t stay clear of. In this floating soul’s case, it is sailing.

Thus, if you give a closer look to the equation for Sailor (S = B + Y), you will see that when the “sailor becomes you”, there is no P(assion) or L(ove). Since Sailing is in our B(lood), it can’t fall under P(assion) or L(ove), you agree?

I love my wife and she is a big part of my being. I can’t bear to be away from her for too long or not have her in my equation. So thus L(ove) is part of me and my world can’t be without her. L(ove) also includes friends, family and mans-best-friend (sorry not cats).

P(assion) includes those things you are passionate about.  For me it is wine, mtb and boats.  This definitely makes up a part of ones being, so needs to be accounted for in the equation of this floating soul.

If we stay true to the equation, we can see that no matter how you write it, bold, italic, etc S(ailor) will never equal X(me, you).  It will always just be a part of you and if it is your whole, you are not complete X.

X(smilicus) = L(ove) + P(assion) + S(ailor)

I am S(ailor) no more!  I am SMILICUS and I sail.

The Gelato Effect

....continued

In my previous post I ranted regarding going cold turkey. By trying to sail more and more (on different boats, etc), I was left with the gelato effect. Bear with me and I will try and explain. 

The gelato effect ~ too much leaves you with less.

When I was young we only had normal, boring ice cream -vanilla, strawberry and chocolate. One day I heard about an Italian gelato shop and went to get my scoop of heaven.  Standing there, mesmerized with all the flavours, I heard a voice: “Which one would you like to taste?” 

O, decisions. I started off with one flavour, then the next and the next.  And when I found myself, I have tasted them all, just to start all over again (I have forgotten the first ones I've tasted). Finally I closed my eyes and just pointed at one.  Then that voice was there again: “Regular cone, Sugar cone or Tub?”

Spoiled or rather confused by choice I struggled to make a decision.  Then that voice was there, yet again: “Single or Double scoop?”

I left the shop confused and undecided, but vouched to start all over again tomorrow.

The sailor became me the day that my passion became my obsession. It took over my existence and left no more time for anything else....everything revolved around sailing, unfocused sailing. 

No matter how much I sailed, the need was still there.

Lost the plot

Hi, my name is Smilicus and um,um,  I’m a sailing junkie.

How often does one come across a sailor who says: “I sail anything.  It is all about being on the water, feeling the breeze and making it go like the clappers.”   Every club have one or even more.  You know who I am talking about. That jack-of-all-trades sailor, who is always hovering at the club, eaves dropping to hear where his next sailing fix will come from, be it a 3knt sh#@ box or a stripped out racing boat.

I kicked my addiction 2 years, 3 months back.  I went cold turkey, haven’t sailed at all, neither did I tie a Bowline or a reef knot.  Okay, maybe once or twice I used a bowline, but not for sailing purposes.  I ended my membership and just disappeared into the boring realm of the landlubber.

Why? For a very simple reason, but an important one:   I become the Sailor, not the Sailor me.

.........to be continued

The legend of the ghost blogger

~There’s a legend of a blogger that just stopped blogging and haunted other blog sites without anybody noticing or knowing what happened.  ~

A frequent blogger and comment posting IP address just one day disappeared from the bloggesphere into thin air and nobody knew what had happened to this sorry soul.  All we know is he still surfs the web in absolute silence watching, listening and seeing everything that went on. 

He saw the fall of Joe(horse’s mouth) from Tillerman's holy scrolls to the other side, the normal side, the regular blog scrolls.  I saw O Dock coming out of the comment box and onto his own Blogspot, taking up his spot in the social arena.  I saw a spider reappear and a blogger disappear, maybe he is spinned up in a cocoon, just waiting to break free of daily society’s venom.  The ghost saw it all and yet he just kept quiet.

But quiet he is no more, the silence is broken.

Battle for Southern Africa

Ready to rumble!!

In the left corner, wearing blue skies,  we have Spring, light weight champion of the breeze and in the right corner, wearing drizzle grey,we have Winter, heavy weight champion of the frost.  They are battling it out for the main title of Season of Southern Africa.  Winter threw the first punch, hitting Spring hard in the stomach.  Spring stepped back covering his face.  

The pounding continues and it looks like spring is going down in the third round.  No wait, he is hitting back hard with a sunny sky hook to Winters chill, Spring still has some fight left. Winter is struggling to keep on its feet, while Spring is throwing sunny skies right, left and centre.  Winter hits back with a snow storm to Spring's upper jaw. Spring staggers back.

Will this be it for Spring? 
  
It feels like a battle for dominance between Spring and Winter in False bay these days.  Just as we pack away our oil skins and get out our caps and sunblock, winter strikes again.  This morning I woke up to snow capped mountains and white capped waves on the sea.  

It is mid spring and we actually haven't even been able to have one week without rain or occasional snow. I was shivering this morning at my computer will sipping a cup of hot tea and my mind wondered of to the days when I was crazy enough to go sailing in temperatures near freezing.
  

That got my mind going again on all the ways we tried to keep warm at sea.  No matter how warm you are dressed,in oils skins and fleece the works,  the wind blowing over the Atlantic in winter cuts through everything.  So we have resorted not to only warm our selves from the outside against the chill, but also from the inside.

Brofee - Cuppa Joe with a dash of brandy

Their is always the boring and old time favourite, Cup-a-Soup.  But this just works in the ads on telly.  The local favourite is called a Brofee or Policeman Coffee.  That is sweat coffee with a dash or two of brandy.  Another favourite in South African waters is, well there's no particular name for it, so lets call it a warm me up shot.  This consists of one part sherry and one part whiskey taken either straight for the two bottles or mixed in a mug as a shot.  This one is not advised in a race scenario, since you might forget all about the race and go to the local pub instead. That is all I can remember.  Any suggestions that doesn't involve alcohol for keeping the winter chill out while at office, send them my way.  Back to the match.

Come on Spring!!! Get in there. Fly like a butterfly, sting like a bee!!

Heads - The history

Many people don't understand Nautical terms. It must be very confusing for people to hear that the boats front is called the Bow and the back is called the stern. And they will hear it if they ever make the beginners mistake of saying right side and left side instead of Starboard and Port. So many of the land lubbers must wonder what a sailor is doing when he is heading down below to visit the heads.

It is probably best to start explaining the terms to them by referring to the origin of the word. If not they may think that the reason the word Heads is used for a marine toilet is because the space is so small and cramp that with the yacht rocking you regularly hit your head. That is true, but not the real reason for the name HEADS

In the older days the square riggers had limited technology and space. The "out-house" was situated on the side of the bow of the boat. Since they used the term of head for the bow of the boat, it became common to say:"I am going to the Heads"

The reason for putting the heads on the side of the boat was very simple:

• Square rigs sail down wind, so putting the heads at the bow, would let the foul smell be blown off the ship instead of into the Captains beard
• At the bow the ship is narrower that the stern, so all human waste would fall directly into the water and no need for appointing a janitor

Next time you have a few novices onboard, tell then the story before you say:"I'm off to the heads"

Words of the Old Salts

The olden age of sailing the high seas in search of new continents and new faster routes to India, brought forth an era of experimenting with new boat design. And with that a new language evolved. Modern civilization forgot about this prehistoric dialect called Nautical Terms

I am very interested in all the terms that was used in that forgotten era. Most of them has disappeared over the ages and most of us have no clue into what they meant. I will post a new forgotten word and its description every week so we can revive the language and walk into a bar and start a conversation like. Something like this: I just saw a Bargue through my Spy glass and have they got a big Donkey Boiler on their deck. I wonder if their Boatswain knows how to use it.

The word for this week: Deadeye

No, its not what you used to call a sailor that lost an eye in a battle.

It is actually a round block of wood with three holes that is used to receive a shroud or stay and to adjust tension in the standing rigging.

So remeber this word for when you stubble into an old salt at the club again.