July 2023 Newsletter

We are anchored in a very quiet spot just 12 miles from Noumea, New Caledonia. After three weeks of great weather, rain has set in. Perfect time to do a bit or writing. Today I finished editing a short story I started when we were preparing Sahula for the voyage away from the New Zealand winter. Hope you enjoy it.



Finding the Balance

By Lin Pardey


Half of each day the boat is afloat, half it is aground, high, dry, steady, sitting right next to my boatshed on a tidal grid. Reason? We are finally finishing a refit that was supposed to take six or eight weeks and has been on going for more than a year. More important, we are on the countdown. Just 10 weeks to get Sahula ready for another ocean passage.

That’s not to say we haven’t been sailing during the past year. We have. We’ve been getting away every second month for a few weeks at a time. My almost 5 decades of life afloat has taught me; nothing helps a refit as much as taking a sailing break. Even if the boat is a mess, even if you have to shove everything into boxes and live a bit rough, sailing away for a few days or weeks helps keep up the enthusiasm. And the bonus, it gives you mental space to sort out the necessities of the next phase of the refit. But now we are on the home stretch – or should I say the true run-away-from-home stretch. 

For the major portion of our refit, we had Mike Hayes, a retired boatbuilder helping for a few hours a day with all the woodwork inside Sahula. David, between times spent being the builders apprentice, took care of ripping things apart, inspecting every crevice and cranny for rust (Sahula is a steel, 40-foot Van de Stadt cutter), then descaling and sealing and repainting the hull surfaces. I did the general dogs body work; sourcing and sorting supplies, sanding and varnishing, painting the finished woodwork, applying bandaids when necessary. But a few months ago Mike realized he had to get back to refitting his own boat. David was okay with the work involved in removing and replacing a large part of the overhead paneling and the majority of the remaining jobs. But, his woodworking skills and the patience to deal with the bits of trim we needed, are limited. All of a sudden, I was faced with a new reality. If I wanted the wood trim to match the work Mike had done, I had to try something new. 

During the years I worked alongside Larry as he built our boats and repaired other people’s boats, he had taught me how to safely use basic woodworking tools and machinery. I’d learned to sharpen a chisel or scraper so I could remove the tops of wood plugs, or clean up pencil marks or sawblade scratches before applying the varnish or paint that made a customer’s boat look good. But up until a few weeks ago the only wooden things I’d actually built were some rickety sawhorses for the shop and a paper towel holder as a gift for a favorite sailing friend. 

Then David came walking up to the house and said, “Lin, the only way I can think of to hide the wire connection for the overhead light in the salon is with a little wooden box. Are you willing to find some time to make one?” 

Talking more boldly than I felt, I said, “Of course.” After all, how hard could it be – a simple little rectangular box just 1-1/4 inch by 2 inches by ¾ inch deep (32mm by 50mm by 19mm). Then I climbed on board the boat and realized, everyone would be able to see the box – everyone who sat at the salon table, or turned on the overhead light!

Slowly, methodically, I set to work; first creating a rough sketch of my project, then measuring, not once but twice before marking a cutting line on each piece of timber (is it correct to call the small scraps I was using “timber”?) As I plugged in the small bandsaw, I remembered the sign Larry had drawn up 50 years or more in the past, just before he let me use a bandsaw for the first time. It read, “Have you ever seen a nine fingered piano player?” Carefully I cut the small scraps into even smaller pieces. Two hours later I had done a practice run, piecing the four tiny sides and bottom I’d cut and sanded together to be sure each one fit correctly then figuring out how I was going to clamp them together while the glue dried. Next I carefully and quickly as possible mixed up some five-minute epoxy, spread it on both sides of each joint just as Larry had always done, then aligned and clamped my miniature project onto a square of baking paper on the workbench quickly together. 

Late that afternoon I set to work sanding off the excess glue so I could finally see if my joints would have met Larry’s standards. I applied the first coat of varnish then ran up to the cottage and urged David to come and see my tiny creation. 

I am quite proud of him. He didn’t laugh. “It will do the job perfectly,” he solemnly stated. “So now, how long will it take you to make the trim for the loo area?” David also didn’t laugh when I put the box in my pocket before we rowed across the bay to have drinks with a neighbor. Nor did he tease me when I carried it around for four days and showed it to other friends. 

Now, two weeks and about three dozen pieces of trim later I am considering buying another chisel to add to my arsenal. For I have found I really enjoy working with wood, figuring out how to cut a compound angle right the first time, now to measure the correct length for a piece of trimming timber that will have to be bent to conform to the underside of the deck. It is like working on an intricate three-dimensional puzzle. But with a far longer lasting sense of accomplishment.  

“Real difference between you and I,” David commented just a day ago. “I think you like working on the boat as much as you like sailing.” 

Looking back over the years I have spent around the marine world, I think he may be right. I am one of those people who not only loves sailing, but enjoys taking care of a boat, making it look tidy, organized, and sometimes even easier to use. On the other hand, I am also aware there is a potential pitfall, the tendency to, as Larry would often say, “trip out on the job.” I have watched a lot of folks get so carried away with trying to make their boat perfect that they actually never got away sailing. I was reminded of this when I asked David to help me secure yet another a piece of trim in place. As the last screw went in, I realized the joint didn’t fit as well as it could. “I’ll take it down and make a new one tomorrow,” I said.

“Come on Lin, it’s good enough,” David stated. “Besides, who is going to sit on the loo and look at the overhead trim joints. Let’s just get this job done.”

He is right. As much as I am enjoying my new-found skill, time is passing, the open ocean is calling and, if I put a bit of putty in the joint before I paint the trim, even I won’t notice the less than perfect fit. 


P.S. Video making, writing, blogging – all have added to my cruising kitty through the years. That is why I was pleased to find a way to share what I’d learned along the way. Now, I am delighted with the comments I am getting from folks who have downloaded or purchased the USB version of Storytelling for Sailors which includes interviews with 12 other sailors who have also found ways to earn from video, Youtubing and writing.


“Inspiring” - Kimberly Ward (She has just finished writing her first sailing sailing book , Three on board)

“Really useful guidelines for building a YouTube audience” - John Creamer, SV Going Too


You can purchase an online streaming version or digital copy of Storytelling for Sailors on a USB thumb drive from my publishing partner, Paradise Cay Publications, on their website here:  

https://www.paracay.com/storytelling-for-sailors-seminar-download/

Previews are available at: 

https://vimeo.com/ondemand/storytellingforsailors/


Latitude 38 Podcast Episode #77: Lin Pardey on Storytelling for Sailors


This week’s host, Nicki Bennett, is joined by Lin Pardey, who returns to Good Jibes for a second time. Lin has sailed over 200,000 nautical miles, 2 circumnavigations, and many more adventures of a lifetime with her late husband, Larry Pardey.

This time around, Lin is talking about her new course, Storytelling for Sailors. Hear how new storytellers can stand out, inserting content creation into your cruising life, how to build and keep an audience, updates from Lin’s life over the past year, and her recent induction into the National Sailing Hall of Fame.

It's Simple

I can’t count the times I’ve been lured into deep water by those two words. It has happened again. A few months back, I was preparing seminar outlines, arranging airfares and travel plans as I got ready to fly to the USA to present seminars at the Port Townsend Wooden boat Festival and Annapolis Sail Boatshow (good excuses for catching up with lots of special friends and family along the way.)  I was zooming a friend, Tory Salvia who runs Sailflix and the SailingChannel.tv about meeting up while I was there.


Tory is always trying to get me to be more of an online person. I am always trying to avoid more reasons to be using computers and phones. But this particular day, I mentioned a note I had received from a Facebook friend. “Can’t get to your writing seminar – how about recording it,” she had asked. This was not an isolated request so I asked Tory how to set up my video camera and record the whole session. His answer, “Really hard to do unless you have two camera operators, good mikes, and ….”  I shut him down. But then he said, “why not just record your program in your office. You have the outline all done. Then I can help by adding the video’s your YouTube friends made, and you can do a few zoom interviews to get more info for people and we have a really useful online seminar for your friends. It’s simple.”

Yes, I fell for it. And at first it seemed simple.

I just set up my telephone on a mini tripod, sat back in my favorite office chair and turned on the record video function.  Then the sun came glaring out and blazed off the glass of the painting behind me.

Start over again after finding sheets to cover the windows. 

Review the video and realize the cabinet behind me looked an absolute mess. Start over again.

Wekas (flightless NZ birds which live under my office floor) start screaming at each other, a noise that can carry for up to half a mile and definitely drowned me out. Start over again.

Then I begin to speak to the camera and my notes fall off the stand I placed in front of me. Start over again.

Recording, and re-recording when I realized I had left something out, slurred something else or otherwise messed up, filled far too many hours when I could have been out sailing or finishing the woodwork in Sahula’s main salon, or…

My sailing storytelling friends didn’t help keep things simple. Any of the 12 could have said no when I contacted them and asked if they would be willing to submit to a zoom interview. But every single one said yes. Then each one added important information beyond the original list of questions I sent them.

No, Tory, this project wasn’t easy. But I am really pleased with the end results. The digital version of Storytelling for Sailors is a vastly expanded version of my all-day writing seminar. It is now available for those who couldn’t attend in person. And, I have gained some new skills and learned some important lessons.

Skills?

  1.  I can now, somewhat comfortably, use zoom for recording interviews.
  2.  I can set up a room and background ready for recording, before I start recording
  3.  I can upload and download big files confidentally
  4.  I am comfortable with editing the final cuts Tory sent me.

Lessons?

  1.    Say no when someone starts a conversation by saying, “it’s simple.”
  2.    Keep all your notes and outlines and number them.
  3.    Be sure to label each take so the video editor can figure out what you were up to.
  4.   Don’t try to record videos without a “do not disturb” sign highly visible
  5.    Do test runs and watch them carefully each time you use a different recording method or  devise, each time you begin another day of recording.
  6.     People who do this full time for a living – such as YouTubers are far more patient than I am
  7.    I plan to cancel my zoom account immediately

 Will I try doing another digital seminar on another subject?  That depends on the response from those of you who decide to sign up for this one. I look forward to hearing your reactions.


Lin


  • The video seminar will be available in December. 
  • Choose on-demand streaming video or a USB drive that will include the complete video
  • Pre-Order the Video Seminar here.




September 2022


Today I enjoyed fun zoom calls with two of my favorite sailing writers, John Kretschmer and Herb McCormick. I am doing research and preparation for the seminars I am presenting over the next weeks, Storytelling for Sailors, writing, blogging, video can they add to your cruising life? (I’ll be doing these at the Port Townsend Wooden Boat Festival https://woodenboat.org/special-events/ and at the Annapolis Cruisers U - https://www.annapolisboatshows.com/cruisers-university-courses-fall-2022/#Writing. I am also working towards having the seminar available online in the not-too-distant future.)

What I found most interesting about these conversations is how much all three of us love sailing. Not just cruising, but sailing in any form it takes, from the lightest of winds to much heavier going, for an afternoon or for weeks at a time. At the same time all of us have a deep desire and take real pleasure in writing about the sailing we’ve been doing.  John said something that had me thinking long after we finished our conversation.  Though I am paraphrasing here as I didn’t write down his exact words, it went something like this; “When I write it down, it seems to clarify and embed the experience in my mind.”

Interestingly, that echoes something another sailing writer said to me a few weeks ago. Behan Gifford was adding her input about why she started blogging, then writing for magazines. “When I am writing a blog, I find I get down to the essence of the experience,” she stated. I had never thought of my writing this way.

But, now as I look back at the thousands and thousands of words that have leapt from my fingers onto printed or digital pages, I see what they were all saying. As I am working to describe a voyage, be it a short and sweet one, a rugged slog or something in between, I get to think back over each incident that made it distinct. Then I have to pick and choose the most important or sometimes the most poignant moments. I have to describe the reasons things went well, or things went awry. This gets me considering the interaction of the crew (Larry and I in the past, David and I now,) the interaction of the boat with the sea and the effects of the weather on all of this.


By the time I am satisfied with the words that are down on digital paper (and occasionally still on actual paper) I have distilled the event to its essence. Yes, though you readers feel I am writing just for you, in an emotional sense, I am doing it for me too.  Once done, I am, just as are these fine writers, eager for another day of sailing, another possible adventure to write about.

Right now, as I am in the USA presenting these seminars and then taking part in the amazing honor of being inducted with Larry, into the National Sailing Hall of Fame, I am two months away from heading back to Kawau where Sahula awaits me.  We already have our sailing plans laid out, plans that will take us towards new destinations, ones that I know will give me plenty of reasons to keep my story telling brain active. But I will stick to the advice I give those who are headed out with the dream of reaching far off destinations. I won’t share our exact plans – that way if we change direction, if the weather gods thwart us, no one will ever say we failed.

I hope to see some of you at the Festival or Sailboat show. I’ll be in the authors booth at Port Townsend, and at the Annapolis Boatshow look for me (and Behan) at booth M5, the fun booth I share with The Boat Galley crew.

Fair Winds

Lin


P.S. There are some entertaining examples of John Kretschmer’s writing here - https://johnkretschmersailing.com/writing/


Herb McCormick was editor at Cruising World Magazine for more than 30 years and has written several books including As Long as It’s Fun, a biography of Larry and I. His latest book is Offshore High, a biography of Doris and Steve Colgate.

Behan Giffords blog can be found at  https://www.sailingtotem.com/

Spring 2022 in the Northern Hemisphere - Autumn 2022 here in the South


 We have run away from home.


I know many of you won’t think that is anything new for us. Yes, David and I set off from Kawau on two previous voyages since we met five years ago, the first to sail south and explore Fiordland, the second time to head north into the Pacific and across to Australia and Tasmania. But in each of those instances, we weren’t actually running away, but running towards enticing adventures, distant destinations. This time is different. We have absolutely no goal, no definite destination, no actual plans, just a desire to be “away.”  Our goal, if you can call it that, is to find quiet anchorages where we can sit and do absolutely nothing. I’ve brought along paint and varnish to spruce up Sahula, but not much desire to use them. I’ve got my computer and might do a bit of writing. David has his water colours and sketch book. He might use them. But in reality, the most ambitious thing either of us want to do is dive overboard for a swim, take a few walks on shore, read some good books, avoid news, hope there is no internet connection and forget normal life for a good long while.

The last several months have been overfilled as, despite the restrictions of Covid, we were able to carry on with not only our normal work, but what turned out to be an eight-month long refit of 12 meter Sahula. We are not the first people to decide to do a relatively easy sounding job on a boat and have it turn into a major effort. When David was doing his bi-annual check for rust inside the boat’s hull, he realized there was a problem spot he couldn’t reach under one of the water tanks. Out came the tank, a job which required removing the woodwork in the main saloon. By good fortune, we shared our covid bubble with Mike Hayes who is a skilled boatbuilder. He offered to work on our project. Unfortunately, that meant the two men decided to continue inspecting for any other possible hidden rust problems. Thus, half of the interior of the boat got removed, sometimes brutally. David learned to use tools he’d never realized existed as he did the rough woodwork. Mike filled my boatshed with his tools, taken out of storage just for this job and did the actual fitting or the revamped cabinetry. I ended up spending half of each day painting, sanding or epozying bits and pieces for the interior, the other half searching for supplies. Then to add to the chaos, I couldn’t resist changing the 31-year-old formica work surfaces of the galley and putting in stainless steel tops. So yes, a month’s work turned to eight.



Those of you who do not own a cruising boat might wonder at spending so much time, effort and yes – money, on an older boat like this one. But she is more than just a boat, she is a memory sink, a magic carpet that took David around the world, and me right around the Tasman Sea and through the islands of the Great Barrier Reef. And she is a capable and seaworthy escape machine, waiting to take us across oceans and to the far edges of the world when we feel confident covid will not cause countries to shut their doors to visitors. Even if fate keeps us from reaching far away shores, she will always serve as an escape machine when we need one.

We needed her now. And after only a week I am feeling refreshed and rejuvenated. And there is no good reason for us to return to North Cove for at least two or three weeks more.



Today, when I awoke to the quiet of this beautiful bay I recalled a decision my late husband Larry and I made soon after we bought my home at Kawau 37 years ago. We considered our North Cove cottage as a homebase, but spent the majority of our time off exploring the world on our 9 meter classic yacht Taleisin, returning every few years to work on another book or video project. Though we often got involved in local racing which took us into Auckland, or to the Mahurangi River, we decided not to explore the islands around the Hauraki Gulf. “We should save that for later, after crossing oceans isn’t fun anymore,” we both agreed. Unfortunately, that time never came for Larry. Furthermore, until David and I ran away from home ten days ago, I had never been to the majority of anchorages that pepper the Coromandel, I had only once landed at Waiheke, only anchored for two nights at Great Barrier Island.

But now, finally, I am getting a chance to explore the Hauraki Gulf onboard Sahula. And now I realize, no matter which direction you head, there are dozens of wonderful places to explore just half a day’s sail from North Cove. That means, as long as we take care of Sahula, even if we never venture further afield, we can always enjoy being afloat around Kawau.

Ocean Cruisers Podcast with Lin

 Welcome to the Ocean Cruisers Podcast, hosted by Andy H


This week we are speaking with Lin Pardey - Author and multiple circumnavigator




Lin Pardey is an inspiration to thousands of liveaboards and sailors all over the world, she has circumnavigated twice in engineless, home build wooden boats. She is the author of 12 sailing books, the recipient of countless awards and in 2000 was introduced into the Cruising World Hall of Fame

Lin is currently in New Zealand refitting a steel sailboat for another world voyage.

If you want to learn more about Lin and her journeys around the world you can visit www.pardeytime.blogspot.com and download the latest documentary about her and Larry, The Real Deal on Vimeo.

https://vimeo.com/ondemand/therealdeallarrypardey/590028895