Attitude-changing Event

Climbing a 51-foot mast solo can be an attitude-changing event.

Scraping the top of the mast and having some soul-searching thoughts.

It took about 10 minutes, a lot of grunting and two stops on the spreaders to climb the mast all the way up. When I reached the top, I was tired and not very enthusiastic about scraping for 2 hours. Maybe its' because I've put on some weight (the bathroom scale says 94 kg), maybe it's because I stopped doing my morning 30-minute Rambo exercises last summer, maybe I'm getting older!! 

Once there, I rested on the Top Climber chair, regained my strength and admired the landscape. That's when the trouble started.

What trouble? Thinking trouble, that's what. I have a bad habit of either thinking too much, not enough or not at all.

Being busy thinking didn't prevent me from taking some pictures. After all, we're in an age when life doesn't seem to exist unless you photograph it. It won't be long before lovers have sex wearing a camera. But I digress.

Jakatar looks smaller from this perspective.

Beautifully calm day.

Most of the fishing boats are out catching fish in the morning. It's best to climb the mast before they return in a hurry, way over the port's speed limit, creating wakes that turn the marina into a corral of bucking rodeo boats. Even a little wake amplifies motion at the top of the mast and will bang you against it like a bell knocker.

The yellow stains are what's left of the etch primer that was supposed to adhere to the aluminum. I also hope this shackle is better than the one that parted and cost me my Rocna anchor and 150 feet of BBB chain. 

So, what was I thinking up there?

First, it was hard work climbing the mast, and I absolutely need to go on a diet. Weighing 94 kg is simply unacceptable. I don't look fat, I'm simply heavy. I also need to start exercising again.

Second, there was no reason to moan about the never-ending boat work. Isn't this what makes life more exciting. It's surely better than boredom, illness and death. This would sound really cliche-ish, I know, if a friend who is my age hadn't died a few days ago. He got up from the couch, keeled over and died, just like that. If that weren't bad enough, another friend, also my age and who lives in town, has just been told that his persistent toothache is jaw cancer. Who's next?

Moral of the story: I'm alive - climbing the mast to scrape for hours, repairing stuff, losing an expensive anchor and chain, spending way too much money on an over-sized boat, and having a stress-filled profession is "life." Luckily, I'm not the type to feel sorry for myself, although I like to complain once in a while.

What makes this a life-changing event, you may ask? It fortified my positive attitude which, next to health, is probably one of the best things in life.

You don't need to be totally free to feel alive, having a good attitude goes a long way.

Purpose of Life

I woke up with a kayak in my head, feeling restless, needing a purpose in life on a day without plans.

It's winter now and I'm unlikely to do much sailing until the weather warms up to a decent temperature; so why not go paddle a kayak instead? It made perfect sense as I lay in bed in the early morning, like it always does lying in bed.

I leaped out of bed, ate, showered, and made the short drive to Paimogo. 

At Paimogo, I checked the wave conditions on a calm day. Looks ideal near the ramp. Fighting your way in a kayak past breaking waves might be fun on a hot summer day, but miserable in cold weather.
(Photograph taken with my new Galaxy S3 Neo smartphone. Bought it for 5 reasons (excuses): can use it as a road and marine chartplotter; takes decent pictures; it's great for reading E-books even without my glasses; it's useful for my holiday home rental business; and it was on sale.

Next, I roared off to the nearest Decathlon store, in Torres Vedras about 15 km away, to buy a wetsuit. The one I already own is a full-body suit that I use for scraping Jakatar's bottom and cutting lines wrapped in the propeller; besides, it's dirty with antifouling paint.

At Decathlon, I found myself trying on a XXL suit going for €54.95. During the struggle to slide it up my torso, I worried I was going to tear the thing apart. Should have stripped down naked. Should have asked the salesgirl for instructions.

OK, maybe this is why I really bought the smartphone! We're living in strange times, I tell you.

XXL is tight. It must be the height problem, I only weigh 94 kg! So I tried another model, size 2XL, with a price ticket of €59.95.

Perfect height, but a bit baggy.

Then I had a dilemma: one suit felt tight but, on the positive side, it won't fill up with water in the event of an accidental capsize; the other one felt comfortable and better for paddling, but all that extra space would fill with water. Besides, if the kayaking gig falls through, I can always use the tight one for diving, and it's an incentive for losing some weight. The tight one it shall be.

Oh yes, and here is the kayak, a Bic Bilbao, I bought a couple of years ago.

Warmer days in Culatra. 

Today I'm going to hunt for the diving shoes that are stored somewhere in the boat, I think. If I go kayaking only once or twice, it's still better than blowing 55 euros on fancy sunglasses. While I was at the store, I bought sunglasses for €5, and that's fancy enough for me.