espoir & esprit

one of our own

2007-05-09T15:38:00.000+02:00

Ryan had another braai at his house so we were all grouped round the fire in the middle of his backyard. After a yummy dinner and toasted marshmallows, the fire was burning quite brightly, warm enough for me to get sleepy. Ryan called me and motioned for me to curl up on the sofa inside with a blanket. 'Thanks,' I said (though in truth it was warmer by the fire!) and he said, 'No sweat, you're one of our own'. I've noticed an interesting thing about ingroups/outgroups here. If you are talking to a stranger, say someone in the shop or your landlord, they can be quite aggressive and hostile. However, once you are on the inside of a group, it's like some kind of amazing brotherhood where they will bend over backwards to help you. Sweet.

The number of posts has been rather pathetic so I thought I would cheat and put down some extracts from my journal. One of my friends back home, Cat, asked me what it was like to work with all those guys. Actually I haven't thought about it for a long time, though it was a huge struggle at first. People will look at you and automatically have less confidence in your reliability and strength because they see a girl. This manifested itself in some skippers swopping crew around so I was no longer crewing on their yacht and not talking to me/looking straight through me. However, what can you do but a) leave or b) grit your teeth and carry on until the bitter end. The second group of people are more tricky. These people, like Ryan and Lucky, have been absolutely lovely to me from day one for no apparent reason than they find me amusing and cute (as in it's cute and novel to be seen with a female crew member on board). OK well I suppose I do have a tendency to work on something slavishly ... occasionally ... sometimes. However, the flipside is that sometimes I feared that their liking for me as a person would cloud their professional judgement of my ability to crew , especially in strong winds. Other people working for the same company, but not sailing crew (and therefore never working with me) would treat me like a little girl, often they are middle-aged men and more than a little pervy. This I respond to politely, laugh if they do something like offer to help me carry a box or something, get a frosty reply if they cross the line and a punch if they are really rude (not in the face though don't worry).

So, extracts ...

Sunday 24 September 2006 - Today I was angry. I got angry at George today because he made me crew with Chris. I got annoyed b/c he was doing some things wrong. [At this stage, I could just about remember everything right as long as the other guy I was partnering with was messing up] Rod was saying how sometimes passengers are rude but what can you do, the customer is always right. That made me angry because the customer *isn't* always right. the customer's only right b/c you want his money but there shld be some things you're not willing to sacrifice for tips; things worth standing up for - like defending your friends when they're trying their best and still learning. The other thing that made me angry was that during the sail, George let a young woman take the helm for a bit. A fat smart ass guy said 'all tickets should be half price now b/c a woman is at the helm'. and instead of defending his crew, George added, 'we should bring out the lifejackets'. It took me a few moments but I'm glad I said 'I object' quite loudly. But I was sore that George hadn't defended women sailing. I was also angry that while Chris and I were working, sometimes I'd catch George sneering at us and there was a general atmosphere of derision and a bad vibe because Chris was on board.

Another night a whole bunch of us were at Ferryman's (local). A homeless woman came begging and Roger said to Emile, 'here comes your girlfriend'. I threatened to hit Roger with the newspaper but it really does make me angry. That woman would have been able to hear everything and she has feelings too. Sean said I was like his niece in that I'd studied a lot but don't seem to have experienced much of the world (the subtext being the more you see, the more jaded you become?). He said that it seemed like I was used to a different kind of crowd than the sailing guys. I said I was tired of my usual crowd and that's why I came here.

Sunday 12? October 2006 - I feel like most of the guys don't treat me seriously professionally or think I'm not capable. Everytime I joke with the guys I'm not sure if it's undermining my credibility professionally. And I'm not sure what to make of it when the guys sit at the picnic table and talk lecherously about girls. And everytime I'm helping to serve drinks rather than sailing/hoisting, passengers assume I'm the hostess rather than crew, which of course they wouldn't assume if I were a guy. Like the girl from Cantina (other local) who's told me twice now she'd like to do what I do, but who's also asked me why I'm doing a man's job. or the two old German men who as me as a joke, 'Isn't that a man's job?' as I was undoing the cleats on the reefing lines. 'No it's not' I said tartly.

They couldn't believe it when I told them how old I was. Roger had thought I was 21. I wonder if the big brotherly behaviour will stop now. I kind of like it in a way which is semi-contradictory (just because it's so much easier when others help you) but sometimes I have to push them away and say '*don't help me'. I had to say this and eventually snap at Lucky when flaking the foremain. On Friday I was tying up the sail tie and Joss walked up and said 'can I help you with that?' 'no I'm fine' I said emphatically but still politely as I tugged on the loop and dangled above the cabin by my hands, still hanging onto the sail (you must put your whole bodyweight into it, said Ryan once). I have worked out that I can do most things the guys can do, just have to do it slower and think of clever ways to use tools instead of brute strength.

the anger and the fury

2007-04-18T15:55:00.000+02:00

It seems I've been inordinately pissed off this past month. My two favourite people have left the sailing company leaving only shadows of the team we used to be.

Sometimes I try to step back and think if I am getting irrationally irritated. Studying psychoanalysis seems to have unleashed a Pandora's box of previously untapped rage which seems to be creating a pattern in my life. Everything starts off sweet, but after about a year or so of working on whatever I become pissed off and fed up and then proceed to burn my bridges with co-workers and the authorities (lecturers etc). Oh dear.

Well anyway, some examples of things I have been pissed off at include:
1) guys turning up to work late and drunk - at 9 o'clock in the morning! I just think when we crew together on the yachts, and if the wind is strong, my life is literally in the hands of my crewmates and skipper. And if he's drunk, he's putting all our safety at risk.
2) Guys taking money out of the bar money - on the one hand I do understand that not every one has been born with a silver spoon in their mouth (as it seems I have had - relatively anyway), but don't we all wish we could 'borrow' some money for some food every now and then.
3) Guys taking beers out of the cooler so it gets deducted from all our salaries at the end of the month - I hate people who cannot control their drinking habit!
3) Guys sitting on the jetty chilling when the rest of us are still finishing work that's meant to be shared
4) Guys getting on their high horse and preaching about how professional they are 'always' - the same guys who sleep on the job, don't even try to talk to passengers and who are lazy about doing the jobs.

I've concluded that these are things that I shouldn't just let slip, but also which shouldn't merit so much attention or anger. Must just remember to keep breathing! The day before yesterday I had a talk with a guy who had made a stupid comment. The day after that the guys were like 'Yesterday I saw E get really angry for the first time hmmm,' and I had no idea what they were talking about. Apparently, they thought my talking with the other guy was me being angry [losing my grip on English grammar - have obviously been working with the dregs of society for too long]. I had to tell them, 'Um, that was actually me controlling my temper'.

I was also thinking before I go home, it would be interesting to find out more about how the guys view the world. But then I thought I couldn't very well sit with a tape recorder so I'd just have to glean their views from their words. I had an argument with Aaron yesterday - he said we were the bottom of the barrel [and therefore the bosses could treat us how they wanted], the bottom of the heap, the scum of the earth blah blah blah. It made me furious, even if I was the bottom of the heap, I like to think I deserve to be treated with some decency. Possibly this is a bourgeois illusion of which I have not yet been unburdened.

Extending the scope of this post beyond my navel, life has been sweet recently though - it's coming into autumn (I'm so thankful!!!!) so the days are cooler. There are days on end when the cold front from the northwest keeps blowing in - sailing when there's a lot of swell isn't so fun though. Neither is cleaning up other people's puke (love those mushroom pieces)!! Last night we went to a friend's house for a braai/barbecue in his backyard. One fire was for cooking, one was to keep warm. It was a clear night with many stars in the sky. It was cosy.

Oh the other day I was inspired to write a scene of a play about the guys. It's called Thursday Afternoon at the Skipper's Cafe and I guess one has to know the people for their portrayal to be amusing, but it does provide an insight into the atmosphere and typical conversation that goes on. I'll type it up soon - it was scribbled on the back of our daily sailing schedules and other scraps of paper.

Lastly, I've finally started to learn to surf!!! I remember in the summer of 2000, dragging my best friend to Bristol for the weekend and having plans to go to Cornwall sometime that summer to learn to surf. Never happened. Now, even though the water here is freezing (too cold even for the sharks), I finally took the plunge. Got dunked loads of times, got water up my nose, got a head cold and still had to go to work (we went on Dawn Patrol - having dragged some guys from work up at 6am!) but I've definitely been bitten by the bug. Against better advice, I got a shortboard - all the mini-mals and longboards were so ugly. I'm so superficial I know, but I knew learning to surf on a pretty board would make me more happy - and it has!!

more good times

2007-03-06T13:28:00.000+02:00

chilling on the bench after work

hey look, we're winning! think I was on Spirit when I took this

Me at the top of the mast on Esperance

Yaku in a fishtank at the waterfront

Having a beer after work in the pouring rain - when you're already soaked, might as well enjoy it (L to R): Snoop, me, Riaan & Aaron

good times

2007-03-06T12:53:00.000+02:00

Waterfront Penguin Liberation Front

Lazy days

The usual suspects (L to R): George Michael, Aaron, Snoop)

Table Mountain viewed from Robben Island (landmass on R)

Aaron eating a legendary Ardi's double burger

morning rain

2007-03-03T15:37:00.001+02:00

It's a rainy day in Cape Town. I love days like these - cloudy and overcast, drizzly with a cold breeze from the north west. It reminds me of home. I'm glad I brought my wellies to South Africa, they are good for splashing in puddles. They are also useful for not slipping on the deck when sailing in the pouring rain. Rainy days also mean more energy for thinking, the sun here is so hot it's all you can do to get through your daily chores on the yachts.

When I was young, my brother had a Richard Scarry book (with those characters from Busytown) called The Best Rainy Day Book Ever. I wish I had it with me now :P Instead, I guess I'll spend the day writing to friends, reading and relaxing. What a great day at work hee hee. Hopefully the rain won't stop.

My flatmate Dorit is going home back to Germany on Tuesday. I'm sad to see her leave. We were watching a film recently where one character said to the other about how, when you're young, you don't realise how rarely it is that you meet someone you really get along with. Otherwise, you'd hang on tight to them. It's something we just now are beginning to realise. I liked the film because the characters are looking for answers to the same questions as we are right now.

new year's eve

2007-03-03T15:32:00.000+02:00

Here's a photo taken with the engineer (Trevor also known as Chief) from the Sea Princess, the largest catamaran in the company

A Life in the Day of

2007-01-11T17:09:00.000+02:00

In the Sunday Times Magazine, on the back page, there would be an interview each week with someone where they would describe their lifestyle and perspective on life, the universe and everything encased in a narrative about their daily life. In English class at school (we actually had one of those cool English teachers who encouraged creativity) we had to write something similar once. I've lost the one I wrote back then and my life's changed a bit, as well as my perspective. I realised I've never actually described what I do every day so here goes ...

My finances hanging by a thread, I've taken to packing my meals for the day. I used to jump out of bed ready for the day ahead, certain to be full of hard graft but the combination of post-Christmas doldrums and four month itch has set in somewhat. So the mornings tend to be a mixture of sleepy 'ten more minutes' and then Road Runner type movements of making breakfast (muesli, milk and double espresso one sugar and milk), packing lunch, grabbing sunscreen, sunglasses, sunhat, uniform (nasty red polo shirt) and running out the door five minutes (always five minutes) late.

It's a fifteen minute stroll to the waterfront where I work. Green Point is a nice neighbourhood in Cape Town, though I have to walk along two main roads. I get to the quayside where I work (Quay Five) and wave hello to the waiters from the restaurant opposite our jetty and to the touters from our company who are busy setting up for the day. When I went to university, it was impossible to walk down the street in town without having to say hello to about five people. I missed it - it's nice to go to a place where people say hello to you in the morning, smile and ask how you are.

I walk down to the jetty where the two yachts are docked and dump my bag at the picnic table in the middle of the jetty. The table is legendary, has been there as long as anyone can remember, has a suitably aged look and has been the scene of many a good conversation and laugh. I hop on board the yacht which I'm working on for the day. If it's Spirit, I'll open the hatch and climb down into the engine room (bilge) and do the engine checks first. If it's Hope, the first thing to do is to hose down the boat to get rid of all the salt deposits from the day before. It's actually a very important job to wash the salt out of the ropes otherwise both guys will be pulling ropes encrusted with salt all day (very bad for the hands and our hands get enough punishment as it is). Say hello to all the guys as everyone arrives. Do a stocktake on the bar on the boat which is always screwed up - cracking open a beer/cold drink is a perfect way to end a hard day's work!

We sail out of the harbour five times a day. Right now it's sweltering in the harbour but always breezy and cooler in the bay - it's a relief to escape and refreshing too. The wind in the morning is usually calm (10-15 knots) and the southeaster normally picks up in the early to late afternoon (around 20 knots usually) and dies down again for sunset. Depending on how exhausted I am, it can be a chore to put up with the passengers but after a couple of days' rest, I actually enjoy talking to them (horrid London misanthrope that I am). We hoist the sails as we go out of the harbour (by motor). I've been slowly building my strength every day so I can do this more and more quickly as I know the skipper is always watching. A quick, competent, strong, hardworking and alert crew member is the ideal and not everyone fulfils all those criteria and even the best guys have their hangover days! You work hard because you don't what the other guy to have to pick up your slack.

The breaks in between trips we spend getting the boat ready for the next trip or chilling on the picnic table or running to the supermarket for a pie or coffee. Pies are amazingly popular here in South Africa - it must be the unhealthy British colonial influence. There is hardly time to sit down and relax though, before the next trip. Once we're out there though, everyone's energy levels (have to!) skyrocket as the wind keeps you on your toes. Once the sails are up, the work consists mainly of adjusting the sails according to the direction of the wind and the direction of sail. Pulling in the sails is another job that often has my arms aching, and I still can't do it as quickly as the guys grr!!!

By the end of the day, surprisingly, energy levels pick up again as it's time to chill out on the yacht with the guys chatting or going to the pub (one from which they haven't been banned??). There are a lot of restaurants and pubs at the waterfront so we are spoilt for choice though of course we always end up going to the same one. There is even a special table in a special corner called The Conference Room. aaah. The best moments in life for me always seem to be the little ones and to include a random conversation.

Then I go home, have a shower and collapse into bed where I fall into a deep, deep sleep - exhausted but in a good way.

feeling a moment

2007-01-07T16:02:00.000+02:00

Sometimes I try to imagine myself back in London (land of freezing fog right now) and I think to myself that I'm not sure I belong there anymore; I'd miss the sea and the mountain, the wind and the sky too much. This past Christmas was my first away from home - I've said often to the guys that people grow up slower in England. I had a good one - my flatmate Genie, two of the guys from work (George Michael and his good friend Jossity Joss) and GM's girlfriend came over. There were ostrich steaks, roast chicken, vegetables dauphinois, salad, wine and other stuff I made which I forget. What I do remember was that my guests enjoyed the food and were happy. As I told them, in England, the tradition is to stuff yourself silly at Christmas and then fall asleep in front of the TV, and I'm happy to say I maintained that tradition as we watched Love Actually (to remind me of home!).

Work has been rolling along nicely - or stickily as it is rather hot now working under the sun all day. I've finally had a proper couple of days' rest - my first since before Christmas so I'll be back to full strength tomorrow. I'm never sure if the guys actually like me or merely put up with my presence but I think it's leaning more toward the former now - hooray! Each crew member gets a reputation of some sort - the one who always sleeps, the one who works really hard etc. I think mine is the one who knows where everything is on the two yachts (so if someone is looking for the shifting spanner, for example, they will come to me) and the one with the really good snacks :P I came to work just as Jossity and his other good friend Yaku arrived and they took a look at my two lunch boxes and said, ''Great, what are we having today?''

I must have had my frowning face on the other day because Aaron said to me, ''You're very quiet today, are you alright?'' and he added, ''If you're not happy, I'm not happy" and proceeded to ruffle my hair (well, my hat anyway, as I always wear my sailing hat when working). Little gesture, meant a lot. The other funny thing I noticed is that people make jokes about race a lot more openly than would be normally acceptable/comfortable in England. Unlucky was saying something to me the other day which prompted the response, ''Kiss my ass!'' to which Unlucky then replied, ''No, it's too white'' amid shrieks of laughter (mine).

Once, we were on Spirit and Big Smiley said to me, ''Come on E, tell us a joke then,'' and the only one I like and can remember is the one where there are two tomatoes in the fridge and one says to the other, ''Brr, it's cold in here isn't it?''. The second tomato turns to the first and says, ''I didn't know tomatoes could talk!''. Unlucky and Big Smiley laughed and we sat for a bit longer as we were sailing along nicely. Suddenly the breeze picked up and Unlucky shivered and said, ''Brr, it's cold - I'm going to get my coat,'' and went to the cabin. Big Smiley said, ''I didn't know Unlucky could talk!'' hee hee

I have also been holding my temper with more success. Progress!

photos of spirit, the sunset and sailing crew

2006-12-15T15:00:00.000+02:00

Jingle sails, in all seriousness

2006-12-14T16:44:00.000+02:00

I'm writing a barrage of posts in an attempt to log all the things that have made me laugh and cry in the last couple of weeks. It's my day off and my hands aren't hurting too much today so I'll take advantage and type like a demon.

The other morning, I was thinking that it really should be cold, rainy and overcast as it was December. Here in South Africa, it's the height of summer with 32-34 degrees celsius the norm. I thought to myself, 'I should be wrapped up in my winter coat, singing Christmas carols,' and thus, Jingle Sails was born. Here are the lyrics, to be sung to the tune of Jingle Bells:

Jingle Sails, jingle sails, jingle all the way,
oh what fun it is to sail in a gaff-rig schooner yeah, hey!
Jingle Sails, jingle sails, jingle all they way,
oh what fun it is to sail in a gaff-rig schooner yeah!

Splashing through the waves,
in the pouring rain,
over the swell we go,
laughing all the way! [ho ho ho!]

Tacking in the gale,
reefing in the storm,
it's even more fun when being soaked becomes the norm!
oh~

jingle sails, jingle sails, jingle all the way [etc etc]

I was cleaning the engine room one day (called the bilge - now symbolically loaded with all connotations of getting grimy, dirty, greasy and generally yukky) with Milhouse and to make a spoonful of sugar to help the medicine go down, I made up a song to sing. It's called The Bilge Song and is sung to the tune of the Yellow Submarine.

In the quay where I was born,
lived a deckhand who sailed to sea
And he told us of his life,
in the bilge that was never clean

We all live in the bilge that's never clean,
bilge that's never clean,
bilge that's never clean,
[repeat]

My subconscious must be funnelling all my excess creative energy into song-writing. On a more serious note, I've found that the second biggest challenge (after the obvious fact that I will never be as strong as the guys who are on average about 6 foot and I don't know how heavy, but are certainly very big and tough) is being taken seriously as crew. I suspect it's a universal problem, for I've read about the difficulty women have in being viewed as competent/serious/capable in their jobs. I've often thought women would have to work three times as hard in sailing as men. Twice as hard because it takes more effort for me to lift/carry the same things as the guys. And twice as hard again because of the psychological impression that many guys (and women) carry that women just aren't as capable. Like the bilge that really is never clean (there's always oil, diesel or random gunk oozing onto the bilge floor), I sometimes feel the battle to be taken seriously is a neverending uphill struggle, in the tradition of Sisyphus. But sometimes, you just have to laugh and make up a silly song to mock it all.

photo of Hope

2006-12-14T16:27:00.000+02:00

all that you can't leave behind

2006-12-14T15:52:00.000+02:00

I'm sure all my friends think I've dropped off the face of the planet. I often mean to write to good friends but most days after work, my hands are literally hurting too much to type or write after a day of working with the ropes.

I've moved into a flat so I finally have a room of my own in which to collect my thoughts. I wanted to go far away to a country where I didn't know anyone, to challenge myself and to see if I could make it in a place with no friends and no family.

Some days I think I'm doing well, some days I want to scream and shout and cry. Growing up and studying in England, I didn't have much contact with conservative old men. Every now and then, sailing on the yachts, our skipper is an old man - why is it that old men think it fun to tease and make pathetic jokes to young women? Is it, that for centuries, women were forced by etiquette and society to pander to old men's vanity by laughing at their unfunny jokes? In situations like these, I feel like I did when I was seven, forced to endure my father's friends pinching my cheek while I hated every moment. Except now, I don't have to grin and bear it any longer. Possibly I'm gaining a reputation as a sourpuss, but I refuse to laugh if I don't really feel like laughing inside. Why do people do that anyway? And why is it that men feel young women should be smiley and happy all the time? I was attacked for 'having a frown on my face during the day and for giving short answers to his questions'. I went to bed unsettled and had a nightmare complete with a green haired man with his back to me. I was running a race and I had to run past him to get to the finish. When he turned around, there was dolby digital screaming and I woke up with a jolt.

I suppose the two previous, rather random posts, were an indication of my thoughts of what I left behind and where I came from. I'm just trying to remind myself to always consciously carve out a life where I'm trying my best and to make something meaningful out of my experiences.

I was sitting in the cabin of Hope the other day with Gizmo and the boss' son (who's working with us during the hols) said 'Sailing crew don't get paid very much do they?' to which I replied 'No, they don't. I think I'm being exploited!'. Gizmo: 'so this is how it feels!' I understand Marx better now.

The day before yesterday was cool. We were sailing on Hope in the southeaster in 30-35 knots (officially a gale!) and we were racing the guys on Spirit, our sister ship. I'm afraid the passengers were soaking wet, trying to hide in their ponchos and huddled at the back of the yacht while we were grinding (turning) the winches to adjust the sails as hard as we could in order to sail more quickly. Sometimes the wind would come in gusts, pitching the boat over to an exhilarating angle. Someone from our company actually took a photo of us from another boat.

the dying of the light

2006-11-11T10:15:00.000+02:00

I often wonder why young people are so idealistic when at university and then become progressively more cynical upon contact with working life. Whilst I do object against blind optimism and naivete, I have seen the souring of ideals firsthand and it's not pretty.

A friend of mine; Teadog, is spending a couple of years in China learning Mandarin. He's mentioned a couple of times how grim and po-faced (my words, not his) the people often look when they are studying or working. It makes me smile because sometimes I think that could have been me. Do Chinese students even have (the luxury of) a post-adolescent idealistic phase?

Possibly idealism and imagination are intertwined. Once, when we had just about finished with secondary school, I was in the car with with Ravi and Meechy. We had stopped at some red lights. 'The lights just turned green,' I said [they hadn't]. 'in a parallel universe,' I clarified. Meechy spluttered as she often used to do when something random happened. I don't know what made me say it. Maybe they really had in another reality.

With Meechy and the gang, we built a little world where we made plans to travel the world by motorcycle, build a space shuttle with material from the scrapyard, and had a superhero called Spoon who would rescue us from creepy people. The point is, the imagination that ran riot when we were young is still colouring my reality a great deal. And I'd like it to stay that way.

often sought

2006-11-11T09:59:00.000+02:00

In late spring, before I left London, my friend Anna O and I decided to wander down to the banks of the Thames in the hours after class had finished. We made our way to the river just below Waterloo Bridge; a bench facing the water was vacant and we strolled over. Inscribed on the bench, as there often is, was a small plaque with a dedication. It said, '[For that which was] much desired, often sought, never found'. Much laughter later, and as the light faded, Anna O and I had one of those conversations which you wish you had written down afterwards. I can't recall exactly what we said, but I do remember it was one of those talks which help you clarify what it you wanted to say but couldn't quite manage to until then. It was about those things which we wanted to find; in the world, in our lifetime, in ourselves. Here's to that search Anna O, you keep trying and so will I.