Hitch

Hustling

I toyed with my last euro; fingering it nervously. I carefully browsed the supermarket isles. What could I afford? What did I need? No, stuff that! What did I want? Chocolate? Chips? A piece of fruit? Half a vegetable? I bought two beers. Leaving me 11 cents in the world. Read more…

By Bearfoot Gypsy, ago
Sail

Crossing Oceans

The world of blue engulfed us. Like good subjects, we acquiesced ourselves to her rule; her wind, her waves, her life. I’ve spent so much time at sea this year, it’s like home – being out on the water! Three French Amel ketches set their sails, leaving the picturesque friendly Read more…

By Bearfoot Gypsy, ago
Sail

Europe Bound

I perched on the bow watching Bermuda and the determination of my fate draw closer. The blues shifted from dark purple and bright ocean navies into the array of turquoises that are inexplicably unique to the islands that possess them. After nine epic days with the phenomenal crew aboard Grande Read more…

By Bearfoot Gypsy, ago
Sail

Big Bear

    Seven days into our five-day voyage we were still stuck in the windless doldrums and we had just struck half way… At the strike of midnight, after a tasty slice of homemade lemon meringue to celebrate Gildas’, the captain, birth; we were off. With a two-meter draft, we needed the Read more…

By Bearfoot Gypsy, ago
Sail

And then they said NO!!

The Americans said “No!” They didn’t want me. I’d spent most of the money I had left in the world on a visa* and without giving a reason, my application was denied. (No, they did not check my bank account. Yes, I wore shoes). I stared in disbelief, put on Read more…

By Bearfoot Gypsy, ago
Sail

Hey Haiti

Haiti, a living postcard strewn among the Leward islands of the Caribbean. A land where the only thing more abundant than palm trees is trash. And the local greeting is “give me one dollar.” It was a stunning smooth six day sail up from Martinique. Good winds. Good waters. Great Read more…

By Bearfoot Gypsy, ago
Sail

Journey to the Other Side

We did it! We survived four weeks of the blues. And while that might sound depressing, I assure you that these blues were pure bliss. After a good fight wrestling the mooring ball for our lines, Papillon sailed out of Saint Helena; leaving the island to shrink in our wake Read more…

By Bearfoot Gypsy, ago
Sail

The Butterfly Effect

I was busy booking a flight to Europe when the neighbours dinghied over. “Do you want to come with us?” I thought they meant into town. But later that same afternoon I had moved all my earthly belongings one boat over and taken refuge in my new catamarany home; Papillon. Read more…

By Bearfoot Gypsy, ago