Кто просил подробности? =)
Sailing like a cat
After completing a trip or accomplishing a challenge it is common for a human being to reflect on the best and the worst decisions made on the way. The ever best of mine was to take a cat on my solo transatlantic crossing. Ow, and also, of course, to use a plastic bottle on decks, you know what for.
Part 1. Becoming a Happy owner
My sailing career was not all smooth. In my teenage years I have sailed extensively, to the extent that it was at all possible on the verge of the USSR collapsing. When a 35 ft boat of a Nouveau riche à la russe took me from St Petersburg to Hamburg across the Baltiс sea, that was a climax and the end of my childish era. It had to be some 20 years of my life of varying interests and career building that I came back to sailing simply by realising one day that my then-salary was already enough to think of a boat. Although the thinking was only in the range of 23-25 feet and only of boats of about my age (44 now). You can already imagine that kind of a boat, can't you?
My living in Brazil at that moment did not facilitate acquiring a sailing beauty (the prices there are soaring) but a warm sea near by and the sailing season of roughly 12 month help building friendships with those who can afford this or another type of vessel. Being fairly bold-faced, but showing understanding and sailing experience drew me along the Brazilian coast line, and even further to the Fernando de Noronha archipelago with the Refeno race.
It was a very good year. I saw the water fluorescent in the wash, dolphins playing around, whales gasping in the warmth of a night, and even the green flash at a sunrise over the vast openings of the Atlantiс ocean. I even feared then, that with all my dreams coming True at once, I'd never want to sail again. I envied the brits and the scotts who withstood the elements of the isles being warmed by their south-sea-so-far-away dream. But I hadn't seen a flying fish yet, and well, I never quit sailing, as you can imagine reading this.
I went for the best boat my money could buy. Not waiting for any later times when my income grows, nor anything of that postponing way of thinking. After hours and days on the redes (pt., aka social networks), exploiting all virtual friends in all possible virtual ways for their advice and knowledge, my choice narrowed to just one, the best!, model – Sadler 25. As I learned then, it is a boat with an immaculate pedigree of Folkboat and Contessa 26, proven sailing abilities, kindness but strength, spacious enough for a single-hander (I didn't mention it in the `historical introduction` above but since the childhood I was fascinated by Chichester and Slocum, of course, and all those who did it alone).
I found my girl who had already known her way across, who has already been at the farther shore, although not in Brazil as I planned myself, but in the Caribbean. Her name was (and still is) Amorosa, red S25 based in Troon. She was well equipped, affordable (osmosis in some early stages), and sail-away condition to the best it can be. As it revealed itself afterwards, the batteries and engine sump were to be replaced, wind indicator and AIS alarm not working, VHF antenna almost not transmitting, but otherwise fine....well, we do not expect them to be literally sail away, do we?
That way or another, the next day after getting the Bill of sale, I went on my first single handed adventure. I sailed from Troon to Whiteheaven, where a good friend of mine (thank you Andrew!) offered me his empty berth at the marina. The trip went pretty smooth with fairly good weather all along, kind coast guard officers by the Aisla Craig, and a lifeboat towing me at the entrance to the Whitehaven Marina (you remember those batteries? It was then that I realized they had to be replaced). From then on, I became a happy owner of a sailboat, my life changed.
