Category: Observation

Sailing Day 1

(I’ll have to upload photographs later, all I took with was the disposable cam pics and will get them developed over the weekend)

The boat that shall not be named (for reasons that will become clearer in future posts) is small. It’s 8 meters small and it is what sailors call “tender”. ie. It rolls side to side like a mofo at the slightest hint of a swell. But ours is not to ask why, ours is just to deliver the thing. The boat has 1 tiny cabin in the bow that was about half the size of the back of a bakkie with a canopy on. There are two other bunks. One bigger one that is essentially the “dining room table” (har har) and one tiny little wormhole bunk that you use when the sea is very rough. From the position outside where you sit and steer you can look through the hatch into the boat and see pretty much all there is to see. You’re in a small confined area.

It was only two of us sailing. Jeremy and myself. Jeremy is what I would consider a very experienced sailor. He lives on a yacht.

We start packing her and doing the safety checks. Inside she’s smaller than a caravan, a lot smaller. I can’t get my shoulders through the forepeak (the cabin in the very front) door… I have to push my body through side-on and when you’re all rigged up with harnesses and such you actually get stuck pretty easily.

One of her batteries is dead but the other seems fine.

We rig her, she rigs like a dinghy with winches. Once we’re all done we decide to rush out and try and catch the wind that we’ve been feeling grow behind us. We motor out, get the sails up and start sailing. Wednesday afternoon was a lovely day sail. The wind was pretty strong and we were going along at about 5 or 6 knots. That’s not blazingly fast but it’s as fast as this hull can go. Already my bum is starting to get a bit sore. The back of the boat is basically what you’d expect from a dinghy. Hard fibreglass seats that get wet pretty easily and various little bits and pieces that stick up into your back or ass. The actually positioning of the seating and the tiller made you wonder if the designer of this boat wasn’t perhaps some sick twisted sadomasochist. You just didn’t have enough leg room or your back was digging into a cable or your bum was digging into a latch. Not comfortable, even on day 1.

We sailed and sailed and at some point the sun started setting. We decided to start our shifts. By this stage the wind is a bit stronger and the swells are kicking the boat around like a tin can in the gutter. I go first (I think… it’s all a bit of a blur really).

I collapse, exhausted, onto the bunk and try to get comfortable. Again there are various things digging into me and on top of it all the boat is rocking so much that I have to physically hold myself in the bunk to stop from falling out. Needless to say, I spent three hours stressing about trying to sleep and not sleeping. Out of the darkness Jeremy calls my name. It’s my shift… I haven’t slept at all. Exhausted I climb up onto the deck and take over while Jeremy sleeps. The minutes tick over painfully slowly as my eyes drop and I struggle to stay awake. Luckily, unlike driving a car, the waves that smack you act as a great wake up call. You drift in and out of exhausted sleepiness watching the stars and listening to the sloosh sloosh sloosh noises as that boat runs through the water. The arm movement you have to make on the tiller in order to counteract the swell becomes automated. Bioluminessence (Glowing algae?) lights up the breaking waves and leaves a gorgeous path behind the yacht where the keel cuts its line through the water. This is not something that you can photograph. You have to see it. Occasionally we would sail through huge pools of bioluminssence that lit up the boat as if a yellow green sun was rising over the horizon. It was beautiful. My shift was up. Jeremy came back up to sail for the next 3 hours and I again tried in vain to sleep. I didn’t. Before I knew it Jeremy was calling me again. My 3 hours below had gone painfully by and now it was my turn to sail again. Jeremy was also struggling to sleep.

The swell was probably between 4 and 5 meters and the boat would sail up the one side and surf down the other… but each time you crossed the two valleys of the swell the boat would rock violently, emptying the sails and force you to strain on the tiller to keep her upright and pointing in the right direction.

I weariy sailed us to the early hours of the morning but never got the benefit of seeing sunrise… My shift was over, I was shattered and I crashed below. I’m not sure if I slept but when I finally got up the sun was rising on the horizon.

We were beating a line towards Cape Agulus… the wind seemed to be dropping.

— End of Day 1.

In the next instalment: “Jeremy is a far better sailor than chef. I was okay with that.“

The KPMG Consultant and the Fisherman

A KPMG (Business) Consultant is holidaying on the Spanish Coast when early one morning while sipping his cappuccino he spots a fisherman bringing in a small catch of fish. The following morning the same KPMG consultant sees that same fisherman, again bringing in a small catch.

The KPMG consultant can not contain himself so he walks over from his seaside villa’s private patio and begins a conversation with the fisherman.

KPMG: You know if you stayed out a bit longer I’m sure you’d catch more fish.

Fisherman: Yes, but why?

KPMG: Well if you caught more fish you’d have more money!

Fisherman: Yes, but why?

KPMG: Well if you had more money you could buy yourself another boat and employ some other fisherman!

Fisherman: Yes, but why?

KPMG: Well, the astute thing to do would be to start a company with a fleet of boats or perhaps even a franchise!

Fisherman: Yes, but why?

KPMG: Well, you’d make millions. You could control the entire fishing industry and build a large successful chain of international fishing businesses.

Fisherman: Yes, but why?

KPMG: You’d be rich, absolutely stinking rich!

Fisherman: Yes, but WHY would I want to be rich?

KPMG: Well, with all that money you could afford to retire early … (suddenly looking despondent) … at the sea… perhaps on the Spanish Coast, and go fishing in the morning…. (starting to look ill) and spend the rest of the day with your children and lovely wife.

Fisherman: My wife’s got some oats on the stove… would you like to come over for breakfast and meet the kids?

I’m struck by this story every time I think about it… I can’t remember where I first heard it but it is definitely something to think about. This past week I saw many fishermen. My parents have a gardener who looks after their property at the Breede river. He gardens for a lot of the houses there but doesn’t really work all that hard. Most of the time he’s probably sitting up on a hill watching the beautiful view and smoking his pipe.

Every time we go to the river my dad says “I can’t wait to retire here”.

For the record…

Me: which one have you got?
Him: Nikon S9
Me: why do you regret it?
Him: it takes bad pictures indoors. very bad. my vivitar did *much* better, and it was a cheaper camera.
Him: and it has an internal zoom lens, which makes me feel less manly.
Me: I just want to check, what was my advice regarding digital cameras?
Him: yes, I know, you were right
Him: this is the last time I’m trusting a blonde girl over a Jonathan. I SWEAR.

For the record, my advice regarding digital cameras is “Buy the most expensive Canon camera you can afford“.

Baking Bread

For the last couple of weeks I’ve been adventuring into the wonderfully rewarding world of baking bread. There is something quite zen about baking bread. The effort that goes into kneading the dough until it is just right and then the magical chemistry that takes place while the yeast has a party eating up all the sugars and farting all that C02 making the dough rise.

The secret to getting inspired by bread making is simple… You need a simple fool-proof recipe to get yourself going and inspire you to try crazier and crazier things. Don’t be foolish and dive straight into something fancy because if it flops you might just lose interest.

Ok, foolproof recipe. I know it off by heart… (funny saying that… seems quite apt)

Jonathan’s No-Bread-Tin-Required White:

Ingredients:

  • 3 and a half cups of regular cake flour (basically flour)
  • 1 and a quarter cups of warm water.  (body temperature)
  • 1 table spoon of salt
  • 1 table spoon of sugar
  • 1 sachet (10grams) of yeast

Directions:

  1. Put the warm water in a small bowl.
  2. Add the yeast to the bowl, stir it up a bit.
  3. Put the flour, salt and sugar in a bigger mixing bowl. (you could use a pot if you wanted to)
  4. Add the yeast water to the flour, salt and sugar and mix it up as best you can with a fork in a minute. (This is to try and keep your hands relatively clean)
  5. Once it’s kinda mixed up start using your hands and mix it up some more until you have one big clump of dough.
  6. Next, sprinkle some flour on a counter top and start kneading the dough on the flour. The flour is to try and stop it from sticking.
  7. You’re looking for something about the same consistency as play-dough. It mustn’t be gooey or sticky.
  8. Depending on the flour and a whole myriad of weirdnesses, you might need to add some more flour or water to the dough to get it the right consistency BUT don’t be lazy. It might look too dry initially but once you knead the dough for a while it might end up seeming too wet.
  9. You should probably spend about 15 minutes in total kneading the dough. The best technique is to repeatedly fold the dough over on top of itself.
  10. Once you’ve got a nice big ball of dough, put some oil in a clean pot at least twice as big as the ball of dough you currently have and then put your piece of dough in the pot, making sure to cover the ball with a thin layer of oil.  You want the sides of the pot/bowl to have a thin layer of oil too so that the dough won’t stick to the sides of the pot when it rises.
  11. Cover it with a dish towel (if possible some cling-film too) and stick it in a warm place. On top of or near a hot water cylinder is awesome.  The dish towel is too keep out the light and keep in the heat.
  12. 60 minutes later it will have risen to almost it’s complete size. Without punching it around too much flip your ball over onto a slightly oiled baking tray. I like to put the tray on top of the bowl and flip them over together to try and minimise how much I beat up the dough. It will disappointingly collapse as a lot of the air escapes. Never fear.
  13. Leave the pot on top of the dough for another 20 minutes to give the dough a second chance at rising and then put the tray with your huge lump of dough in the oven on 200 degrees Celsius for about 20 minutes. You’ll want it to be golden brown but not dark.
  14. Take it out, give it 2 minutes to cool and cut yourself a slice…
  15. Bread and butter is an awesome thing.

Quality of life.

I am very happy at the moment. Perhaps the happiest and most relaxed I have ever been. Life is good, the flowers smell great and the sun is on my back. What got me here? I don’t know, probably a combination of things; I’ve got my head screwed on straight, I have a good job, a great girlfriend and a fun social life. I’ve managed to balance my time effectively, working on little pet projects but not getting obsessed. My girlfriend and I cram our weekends with activities, some exciting– like making tom-yum soup, and some mundane — like shopping at makro. It’s all good.

It’s at this point in my life that I am acutely aware of time. It slips by, week after week, month after month… Perhaps this is a morbid view of things, but it does force me to pay attention… and I find it strange how time didn’t slip by so fast when I was not in such a happy place in life… In fact it may have dragged.

My father worked for 25 years as a white collar manager. He got a R1600 HiFi on his 25th year anniversary. He still works there. Corporations do not care about you, even the good ones. Besides, we really should have more stuff going on in our lives than to expect to garner happiness from our jobs. Sure, it’s great if you can… like I said, I have a great job… it has mundane moments like any other job but makes up for the mundane with the occasional challenges and a great work environment. I do not however look to my job for happiness. I would be foolish to do so.

I would be more foolish to let my job affect my happiness… This is what this post is all about. Letting your job get the better of you. I have a friend whom I love to bits, she’s a tad crazy and always a lot of fun. She works in advertising… an industry notorious for it’s long hours, crappy work environment and stupid bosses. Even with the infamy of the industry I am gobsmacked (I literally don’t know what to say) by her stories and situations. And perhaps even more so by her apparent “okay”ness with it all. Sure she moans and groans, but she doesn’t walk out the door and say “screw you guys, I’m goin’ home!”

Is she stupid? No. Is she brainwashed? Perhaps a little…. Is she stuck? For now. Let me just paraphrase her job: She goes to work at 8am, 8:30 if she’s feeling buck. She works till 10pm most nights. 9pm is “early”. She works a few hours on each weekend. She is not being paid a huge salary.

I realise that I have a job that is essentially a walk in the park compared to what she’s going through. I’ve been with my company for a year. I’ve *had* to work overtime once and that was really just so that I could switch from one system to the next at the end of the month. I get there at 9am, take a short lunch because I actually quite like getting work done, and leave between 6 and 7… occasionally I’ll leave at 8 if I get stuck into whatever it is I’m doing.

My friend’s situation is bad… ugly even. Everyone at her company works like that. They’re like droids who’ve become brainwashed (and really, considering the stress they’re under, using the term brainwashed might not be so far off) by the routine. They brag about how late they worked, they joke with each other about taking the weekend off… they get shitty if you leave at 6.

In many ways we’re two polar opposites; but I want to bring you back to the point I made earlier. It is only now that I am happy and stress-free that I am so acutely aware of time and how it flies by so rapidly. I fear that my friend, in her stressed state, is not aware of how time is passing her by… how the number of evenings she could be sitting on the couch drinking a glass of wine with her better half are slowly disappearing… and for what? A cheap hifi after 25 years? Should she really let bad management take those evenings away from her? Those saturday mornings eating toast in bed? Those “Survivor” nights? A week-night dinner party?

Another friend of mine left his company after nearly 6 years of service. He got a framed certificate. If I had not known better I would have thought it was a joke. It wasn’t. Now he runs his own company and takes his gorgeous 5 year old daughter for walks on the Seapoint promenade while the rest of us suckers are sitting at our desks.

If this post tells you anything it should tell you this: Pay attention to your time and don’t let your job abuse it… Life is beautiful, but only for so long.

Clever Unicorn Ad

UnicornsBeing a quasi advertising aficionado nerd person, I like clever ads. I snapped this pic with my cellphone earlier.

I’m also currently sitting in vida e caffe on my macbook via 3G.

Cliche much?

Getting my car waxed for the first time. The slick sales guy made me feel bad about how I treat my car and totally suckered me into a R350 wax.

Later, Suckers!