Moving forward

Today is a sparkling sunny day in Wellington, New Zealand and the world seems to be in order. Ducks are playing on the dock. I am leaving the boat at the end of the week to go home to Hungary and move on towards other things in life. Hannah gave me a card that says: "don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened." That is how I feel today, even though I left the shores of Nova Scotia in tears, I am smiling now and am amazed to have sailed on three oceans on this beautiful journey.

I feel grateful to have been able to be part of this adventure and I would like to thank all of those who have been with me on this voyage. Friends and family, I've felt your presence all along and that feeling of connectedness made me strong and made me trust that things were going to be all right even on the roughest seas. This feeling gave me a reason to keep on going and gave me a place to look forward to going back to, a home, a country, a family and my friends.

I am also thankful for the wisdom I've gained through all the lessons that were given to me. I am learning to respond to the natural ebb and flow of the universe, I understand that one cannot sail against the winds. Before leaving I told a friend about the importance of adjusting the sails depending on the winds. That is what I will keep on doing as I move forward and I will remember the perfection I've seen in all things. I am grateful for those moments of clarity and beauty I've encountered on the sea.

Being alone on deck, sailing on a night with dolphins swimming by us in the silver moonlight on the shiny black water. Rowing Reepicheep on the green-blue ocean in front of high grey-green rocks in New Zealand. Sailing under a full rainbow in a light tender rain between two islands in Seychelles. Crossing the Indian ocean and running on deck in gorgeous sunsets with albatrosses flying around the boat.

Sailing through the Marlborough sounds with family of gannets flying around the boat in the morning sun. Watching the sun shining down on the water in a track of stars that looked like the perfect road to walk on. I smiled.

I feel as though I have family all over the world now. I have met some beautiful people on this journey and have seen myself reflected in their eyes and I believe they've seen themselves through me. I see and understand life more clearly now and it all feels like an unending 360 degree circle on a rock, one that starts where it ends and ends where it starts. I hope to be able to see this clarity and keep it in my heart as I move forward from here.

A falling star

As I stopped counting the days, I was told that the Maggie B sailed out of Lunenburg harbor a year ago today. I haven't written into my blog in months as I preferred to think instead. Seeking the permanent in the eternally changing environment, inner growth and the aspiration for a better understanding of the world describes this last year for me. So many things have changed on the surface, we've visited so many lands and crossed paths with beautiful people everywhere but even with this constant change, all had remained the same. The only change seems to be growth.

Yesterday we had the last show of Dream Macons, this wonderful and creative play that Hannah and I played in at the Salamanca Art Center in Hobart. Something special happened during the last minutes of the play. I believe to be the only one having seen it but it does not seem to be a coincidence, neither the fruit of my imagination. I was waiting for my last queue to come out onto the balcony, my face painted white, I stood in a darkened corner of a room on the third floor of the building looking out into the vast sky above the trees blown in the wind, concentrating on a star. In those moments I find it so hard to separate myself from everything around me as I feel that I am melting in. Acting in a play requires coming back to my personality in this life and being in my character as an actor. As I was gathering my forces to act and come back to this reality, a star fell out of the sky, at the exact place I was looking at.

I think I caught it and it is still with me, hidden in my pocket. I don't know what I will do with it yet but I feel its presence. Soon after I lost my watch. Something has started over a year ago and there is no way of going back. I don't know if this will be my last entry into this blog or not. I am planning to sail to New Zealand with the Maggie B and then return home and keep on moving forward, wherever I need to go. Maybe, with a later perspective, I will be able to tell you about these experiences. This year has been amazing and intense, I'll try to write a book about it but I need to be away from the boat. The feelings need to be turned into understanding.

37 South, 76 East

It is time to write again. It is colder now, I am wearing two sweaters as we are more to the South than the Cape of Good Hope, truly so far from everything. Being this far allows us to experience things that would never be possible without having left. Check this out: I just had an hour run in the bow hanging on to the halyards, watching the sunset, with about 20 albatrosses flying all around the boat. How cool is that?

On the top of the waves the setting sun was reflected so one side of the waves was a golden color and the other side silvery blue. The air is so pure here, I feel strong and free as if I were standing on the top of a mountain.

This trip is purifying and clarifying in every way. I have amazing dreams and visions. I feel as if I were on a pilgrimage in search of light and I think that in fact, I am. In addition, I think that in moments, I am finding it. I do not yet have words for it.

Mauritius

We sailed into Port Louis sliding by a white old Chinese fishing boat in a late afternoon sky, dark and heavy with rain. Fishermen with long hair waved at us from behind the red Chinese characters written on the hull of their boat. I went for an early run on our first day here and it felt like being in India. Beautiful graceful and fragile women were on their way to work in their saris and other traditional dresses of bright colors. The light fabrics were blowing in the wind. A young Indian man was praying on a bench with his eyes closed and a girl was singing quietly but with an almost hurtful passion on the stairs of a cafe still closed. I did not understand the words but listened to her for a long time. The day was just starting. I felt speechless, like watching a silent movie. We are planning to visit the Grapefruit garden with giant water lilies. Maybe we will go to the green mountains with waterfalls and peaks that look like cones and have strange edges, surprising for European eyes. Rain is a constant part of our lives. Being hot and wet doesn't seem new anymore, I think I've gotten used to it. Even back in this sometimes suffocating civilization, we stay connected with nature and use our knowledge of it. We drive on the roads in the dark and we know our way looking at the night sky. We are getting good at knowing the direction each constellation is pointing to. We followed the Southern cross to come back to the boat from the north of the island last night. The change between being at sea and being in port seems too harsh to me. Our lives seem to go into the two extremes. Silence and only water and stars and sun and wind and clouds around us... and then, fancy shops and restaurants and busy people in the ports, surrounded by all the trash that come along with the creations of our consumer societies where so many things are for sale. We don't even know the difference between what we need and what we want. I am torn in between these worlds and at moments I would like to close my eyes and escape if I could, go into a monastery... but I also get fooled by all the shiny lights, just like most of us do... Still, deep down, I know I prefer to be in touch with the light of a single star in the sky, like Venus, the first star at this time of the year on the Southern hemisphere, alone on the horizon, long before all other stars. It means more in its simplicity.

Another night, suspended in time

I just spent three hours under the starry sky, moments suspended in time filled with memories from the past and plans for the future. The purity, clarity and depth to be found at sea is amazing. I even seem to be awake in my sleep, connecting, understanding, searching, growing and longing for wisdom. In silence, I await my own thoughts to come to me, I introduce myself to myself and we talk. There is no interference, no pollution, no distraction, just me in the universe. It is fascinating to get to know oneself.

A dear friend of mine asked me today to think of her when I see something beautiful. I was moved to read her wish and made me think of the onshore perspective. I've been already doing what she asked for. I do think of all of those I've known, loved and continue to love. I even think of people I thought I'd forgotten, but no, nothing seems to be lost. I see many beautiful things like tonight's sunset: a blue sky with white clouds growing yellow then orange and pink and purple on the sides with their form changing every second, shaped by the wind. I see white birds circling above the water and rainbows in the distance. I see clouds reflected on the surface. I see light shining through the waves and dolphins playing. There is more beauty here to embrace than can be expressed. I'd like to find ways to share these moments with those I love... but many times, I don't have a way to say it, but many of you, now reading these lines, are present with me on my journey... a rock in my pocket, a...

We are now 14 degrees South and 56 degrees East on the southern hemisphere sailing towards Mauritius on the west coast of Madagascar. It is fascinating how we've crossed oceans since we left Canada going down and up and left and right on the globe: what a different perspective this is on our planet, all of the sudden it seems to be at a human scale. I am learning new things every day, challenging myself: I am learning carpentry and try to fix things that broke, learn to recognize new stars and cloud formations, run longer and longer in the bow while hanging on to a rope to be safe while I get soaked by oncoming waves (this was not the best idea because I got my ipod wet up there and it doesn't work anymore) and I am challenging myself to retain myself from writing all the time and try to think instead. Maybe some of these new practices will be fruitful, I certainly try to make the best of my time onboard. We'll stay a couple of days in Mauritius, I'll try to write next from there.

Curieuse Island
January 14, 2007

Back to nature

It's been a long time I haven't written into my blog, but here I am again. Christmas is over and we have entered into a new year. It was wonderful to be home with my family over the holidays. We only had one snowy day in Hungary so it didn't feel so much like Christmas based on the weather but the warmth coming from the love in our hearts was surely there. We were especially numerous this Christmas and I feel more connected to my family now. It feels good to go home, it reminds me of where things start.

So, now, here we are back on the water floating by Curieuse Island in the Seychelles. It is almost midnight and the stars are bright in the night sky and our boat gently rocks on the waves. I don't really want to sleep, the sky is so beautiful, you just can't see this from a city. Being on the water enveloped by the starry sky with occasional shooting stars is breathtaking. It often brings tears to my eyes. I feel connected to something greater and timeless.

We saw a hawksbill turtle her lay eggs on the beach today and many other turtles grazing on grass all day long. I snorkeled with a baby green turtle and schools of bright yellow and blue fish. We found shiny red seeds in the forest as we hiked the hills on the island and delicate white and purple shells in the sand: we are going to make necklaces while at sea. We are about to undertake an approximately 30-day journey to Australia.

In two days, on January 16th, we are going to celebrate the Maggie B's first anniversary. We are planning to bake a boat-shaped cake and maple leaf molasses cookies. We will have many friends with us, just like on the launch party. Then, we'll take a deep breath and do the final checks and buy the rest of provisions and say farewell to our new friends and set sail towards a new continent, the land of koalas and kangaroos.

The end of the week

So, it is a Saturday afternoon and I thought I'd write some more into my blog to keep in touch. Seychelles is a cool place! I like it more and more! Today we sailed out to Sainte Anne island for lunch and a snorkel and swim. I took out Strika, our sea kayak for a paddle for the first time and had fun paddling her and even was able to ride on a couple of waves without tipping over. I remembered my father teaching me skiing, saying, "if you don't fall, you didn't try hard enough"... so in a way, I thought that if I didn't tip over, I didn't dare go far enough and ride the best waves... but it was only my first time, so maybe it is okay. Something amusing happened to me while snorkeling. A little yellow fish with black stripes must have thought that I was a fish and it kept on swimming right in front my mask the whole time I was in the water.It was only a couple of inches away from my eyes and turned with me every time I turned. I wanted to keep it as a pet, I got a little attached.

Last night in Victoria was great. I haven't had this much fun in a long time. Hannah and I met an Indian historian who invited us into his house and showed us his amazing shell collection, taught us how to make art with food (like sculpting a face into a potato) and how to heal with food (a strictly vegetarian diet), he also read our palms... he is supposed to have esoteric powers... it was quite interesting! Then, we went to see Nacho Libre, a comedy that made us laugh... and then, we ended up at the Yacht club and at a local bar, called Level 3 where we made new friends. After that, we went on to a nouveau beaujolais party at the local Alliance Francaise (invited by a French girl we met earlier in the day) where we danced passionately until dawn to French and English and American disco music from the 80's. It is wonderful to get to know people here, both locals and expats, they introduce us into their worlds and we feel more connected.

Being Saturday night, we are going out again. I am looking forward to it and it is fun to already have a list of phone numbers to call on new friends to join us. It is easy to make friends with a smile.

On being alive

I know I've been writing less and less into my blog lately, sorry about that to all of those who do follow my writings. I've actually been feeling quite well now for a while, very much alive somehow. We arrived to the Seychelles a couple of days ago and there is a wonderful swimming pool in the marina so I've been spending much of my free time there, sometimes forgetting that I am a human being. Swimming makes me feel free and light and strong. It feels like flying.

I have also been very stimulated intellectually, continually meeting fascinating people from all parts of the world... many from Africa and Australia... and my curiosity just grows. The more I learn, the more curious I become. I've been learning about languages and cultural perceptions and plants and animals and politics and economy... and everything seems to be connected somehow... this trip is better than being in school. I am feeling like a sponge, just taking in and taking in... What will I become at the end?

I now also have my ticket to go home on December 15th and to return to the Seychelles on January 7th; it will be great to be at home, I will just have to adjust to the snow and cold. Mail from and to the Seychelles seems reliable and fast (1 week) so our mailing address posted on the website is still the one to use. Stamps are gorgeous here, I'll be sending out many postcards from here. Our plans for the upcoming three weeks are loose. We need to haul the boat to fix the engine problem but besides that, we will just be sailing around the many seychellois islands: lush and green and mountainous, full of flowers and birds. Check out our latest pictures online! The double rainbow is my favorite, it was so beautiful in real life over the water... the type of beauty that almost makes you cry. It is amazing to have been born once but feel that I am becoming more alive with each passing day stimulated by my environment and inner feelings. I don't think it can ever stop now.

A year ago

I've been slightly seasick again since we left Madagascar and I am still feeling a little disoriented under the almost equatorial sun so I can't write much today but I wanted to stop for a moment and remember that just a year ago, November 15, 2005, was the day when Frank took me to Covey Island Boatworks in Petite Riviere, Nova Scotia, for the first time and I was introduced to the Maggie B on a Tuesday afternoon. She was then nothing but a sculptural masterpiece looking somewhat like a future sailboat and the people working on it were strangers to me. Now, the Maggie B is happily sailing on the Indian ocean after several thousands of miles on different seas, cold and warm, and some the people who were strangers to me then, became good friends. Much has happened since, more than I can express right now but I've been waiting for this day... to say that today, it has been a year... and it has been a good year, full of adventures I never ever imagined. I am left breathless, remembering...

Island Hopping in Madagascar

I haven't written since Bassas da India in the Mozambique channel, I know, but it's been really hot and hard to sit by the computer to write. Also, since I've been told that my blogs are too dreamy, so I've been mostly just dreaming to myself...

We arrived to Nosy Be, Madagascar, Monday morning, five days ago and it's been like going back to the past. As we came in, all the other sailboats were these beautiful wooden outriggers that probably didn't change in design for centuries. As we checked in to get our visas, all the paperwork got done either hand written or typed, on what we would consider, a really old typewriter, a lot older than what my 99 year-old grandfather used in Hungary! All the officers have about 12 stamps in front of them and they stamp everything and several times. Getting a registered mail sent out by the post office was also quite amusing. Besides holding up the line for about 15 minutes, the operation involved three people working on my one letter: a woman getting it officially weighted (three times and opening her eyes as wide as if she was seeing a huge spider), a man writing all kinds of things in a very old yellowed book with a red pen in one hand and a blue in the other, and a third lady putting stickers onto the letter and into two different books using glue from a tube. Granted, I was also involved. I had to fill out several forms and sign them. The post office itself is pretty much in ruins, I'll try to get a picture of it to put online. All of this was in Nosy Be, supposedly one of the most modern places in Madagascar.

This is nothing but cultural shock. People here have beautiful and sincere smiles, I like it so much, it feels good. If you smile at them, they smile and stare at you in a pleasant deep way, that is rarely the case in our western cultures.

We've been island hopping for the last few days: swimming, snorkeling, hiking and eating lots of "banane flambee". What a paradise! Yesterday, Willis and I hiked the highest mountain on Nosy Komba and it was amazing. A snake once crossed our path so I jumped back but it let us go through as did the many zebus on the mountain side. We met young girls carrying drinking water and they gave us flowers that smelled heavenly, I almost felt drunken by them. Ylang-ylang trees grew by our path and we saw lots of lemurs playing in the tall tropical vegetation. The views from the top were great and it felt so good to hike. We probably walked 17-minute miles, we were flying up on the steep path, excited to be surrounded by trees and wildlife. The lizards and chameleons are also very cool.

Tomorrow, we will get provisions in Hellville for our week-long passage to the Seychelles. We'll be sailing out on Sunday morning and we'll probably arrive onto Mahe island by the 19th or 20th of November. Time is going by fast, it will soon be Christmas. Good news: if all goes well, I'll be able to be with my family in Hungary for the holidays. I can't wait. It will be quite a change going from a tropical place into the snow.

I hope all is well with all of you! Remember that you can also write to me directly onto the boat at frankblair@uuplus.com if you wish to. It is nice to stay in touch. I'll write more in a couple of days!