Prologue Pt V

13/11/2009

I received an email from Maggie requesting another phone call last night, I really wasn’t sure what to make of it,.. were they really that unsure of me? Did I say something in the conversation with Captain Moreland that contradicted my first phone interview? Had calling Captain Moreland “Dan” when I said goodbye sealed my fate and I was forever cursed to a landlubberly life? I didn’t know what to think….

However, when Maggie called she seemed quite upbeat and although the delay on the line was incredibly bad, I think she said that I had been accepted!!!  Woohooo!!!  Now all I have to do is find 25k!

Prologue Pt IV

10/11/2009

It is moments after speaking to Captain Dan Moreland, and I am reflecting on the conversation we just had,.. no malaria this time thank god (although we haven’t had water for a few days!), so I think I was a little more coherent than before.  Surprisingly, the conversation I had prepared for (questions requesting details of situations where I had used teamwork, shown resourcefulness etc.) never surfaced. It turned out to be a chat where I actually did most of the talking.  Captain Moreland (who I accidentally called Dan when we were saying goodbye,.. oops) seemed a very experienced and knowledgeable individual who put to rest any qualms and worries I had about the trip; the long periods without landfall, the age differences between the crew, the people jumping ship (in port, not mid-ocean – in case you were wondering).  I was particularly pleased when he said that dinghy sailing experience was a positive element, but that yachties tended to create problems as they think they know it all, and sailing in a barque is a very, very different environment to sailing in a typical yacht.

 

However, he did bring up a key point; when asked if he knew if anyone else was planning on writing a blog or book on their experiences he pointed out that the only other person to do this (Rigel Crocket – “Fair Wind and Plenty of it”) had lost any friends he had made on the voyage through the book.  It suddenly dawned on me that he had a point; we were going to be living in each others pockets, experiencing events and emotions in an environment where nothing could be hidden from the other members of the crew.  His unsaid recommendation was obvious, if you want to do this, you risk losing any friends you make on the voyage.  It was up to me to decide how to manage this... do I continue? Do I give everyone a say in the editing? Do I use pseudonyms? Or do I bin the idea and concentrate on enjoying the trip and getting as much out of it as I can. 

 

It may however be a moot point, they haven’t accepted me yet!!  I’ll worry about that when I get the confirmation!

Prologue Pt III

29/10/2009

I have just received notice from two of the referees that I included on my application that they have spoken to Maggie,..  I decided to include David, a friend from my MBA in Spain and a subsequent employer in a school where I gave business development and public speaking classes, Steve, the amicable tenant in my flat in London, and Andy, probably one of my oldest friends and although a pain in the arse from time to time, probably one of the people who know me best!  Not sure what they’ll be looking for exactly, but I assume they asked about my ability to get on with people, if I’m resourceful and whether or not I will survive a year on a boat… David informed me he described me as an “alma mater” (which I had to look up!) meaning “Nourishing mother”… I think it was meant as a compliment since I organized a lot of parties and was famed for my barbecues in Barcelona, but since he’s given up drink for the last 3 weeks, he may just be being spiteful!  Fingers crossed.

Prologue pt II

15/10/2009

The 1st interview with Maggie from the Picton Castle was an interesting experience; the electricity had been off for 2 days which meant that I had no water (electric water pump!) and that I was hot, sticky and inevitably bothered. This, combined with a bout of malaria and its associated lack of sleep (and bodily fluids), had rendered me brain-dead and about as focused as Keith Richards after a night out (with Oliver Reed).  The interview began fairly uneventfully, but the fact that the phone kept cutting out every few minutes didn’t help and although my attempts to be chatty and interesting seemed perfectly fine and charming to me, I felt the pauses in conversation weren’t so much due to the delay on the line as to Maggie’s confusion as to what the hell I was going on about!  Despite my obvious lack of mental cohesion the interview ended on a positive note as Maggie stated that she would be contacting my referees and would then be in touch for a follow-up interview.  My heart, my mind (and unfortunately that day, my bowels) were racing with the next important question… If I get accepted, how the hell am I going to raise the $46k needed for this trip of a lifetime?

Prologue

‘Since the turn of the century, more people have been to the moon than have circumnavigated the world on a Tall Ship’ Andrew Younghusband, Tall Ships Chronicles.

Prologue:
It had been a hard few months, my businesses were floundering in the quagmire of the financial crisis and the spending of our largest clients had dropped to a tenth of the previous year…it was time to cut my losses and move on with my life.

I had met Deb some 7 months beforehand, and although physically separated by some 3,000 kilometres, we had grown very close, chatting up to two hours a day using all the means of communication modern technology afforded.  As time went on we discussed our future, and the closing of the business seemed like a good opportunity to dip my toes in the water of cohabitation. On the 22nd of January 2009 I left my Spanish life behind and headed out en route to Ghana and Deb.

We spent eight great months together, never arguing, but at the same time never experiencing the extreme highs, lows and strong emotions that a solid relationship needs to survive.  We decided that although we got on great, the spark just wasn’t there and that when Deb’s next posting came up, we would go our separate ways.

I felt bad that Deb had chosen Lisbon as the destination for her next posting for me, so that I would be able to work, but she was looking forward to living in the 1st world again, whereas I, on the other hand had fallen in love with Ghana and wanted to stay. So when her posting came to an end we said our tearful goodbyes and she moved to Lisbon alone.

It wasn’t long before I discovered the nightmare that is the Ghanaian administration, and found myself entangled in the web of visa applications, work permits and residency rights.  I learned that without one or indeed any of the above it wasn’t even worth turning up to interviews, and I was informed of this on a regular basis.  What was merely irritating at first evolved swiftly to frustrating, and finally depressing as it became obvious that legal employment was not going to be an option for me - the professional foreigner.

I began to evaluate my options; without marrying a Ghanaian it was going to be impossible for me to stay in Ghana long-term, so what was I going to do? I didn’t want to go back to the UK and I had had enough of Spain for the moment.

It occurred to me that I was single, with no career and no dependents, in some ways a fairly depressing situation at 33 years old, but I decided to make the most of it. Although money was an issue, volunteering for an NGO and travelling around Africa seemed to be the most appropriate way to spend my time until something (or someone) intervened to give my life some kind of direction.  

I remembered a series I had seen on the Travel Channel some years previously which followed an intrepid reporter as he took a round the world trip on a classic Tall Ship (“The Tall Ship Chronicles”, I later discovered). The programme had made a great impact on me… Thank god for Google! I found the name of the boat - The Picton Castle - and within minutes I was on its website, only to find the owners were planning another round the world trip!  It was a few months away, but what better way to spend a sabbatical year than sailing round the world in an old pirate ship (which I discovered was the easiest way to describe it to non-seafaring types), learning about navigation and experiencing situations a normal person would never encounter? Suddenly being single and free of any professional shackles didn’t look so bad; I would never get another opportunity like this! 

I thought of a line from the poem, "Maud Muller" by John Greenleaf Whittier; 'For of all sad words of tongue or pen. The saddest are these 'it might have been'’ I wasn’t going to regret not taking this opportunity!

 

I thought of all my friends back in Spain and the UK. The ones who didn’t have kids were on an incredibly competitive career ladder that would make anything more than a couple of weeks’ holiday in the South of France professional suicide. Suddenly I didn’t feel depressed…I felt free!

Sure, I would like kids, a dog, a stable relationship, a nice monthly salary, but maybe now wasn’t the time. I further consoled myself with the words of Mary Schmich: “Don’t feel guilty if you don’t know what you want to do with your life. The most interesting people I know didn’t know at 22 what they wanted to do with their lives, some of the most interesting 40 year olds I know still don’t”. I thought that summed it up pretty well; only a few years to go before I turn 40 and absolutely no idea what I want to do with my life, but by god I was going to experience the hell out of it in the meantime!