Heraclitus Report

Heraclitus in Santa Fe

2010-09-26T20:36:00.000-07:00

This is where the Heraclitus was designed 35 years ago, experiments were carried out for building it's hull. In the desert, the cowboy land of my childhood, of Shilo Ranch of 'Bonanza', rolling hills, plateaus, canyons and blue mountains...think about it...Now Heraclitus is happily attended to by a new crew of non-Europeans in Europe, actually an all North and South American crew and a First Mate from the Pacific Islands. And this the place, where many an expedition was sceemed up in the library, hovering over strange books and rare Atlases...

Heraclitus in Valencia

2010-09-15T12:24:00.001-07:00

After 4 years since Cairns, Australia, we, the Heraclitus and crew have landed in Valencia, Spain. It was a hot debate, exactly where in Spain we would land- after getting involved in Tangier- Ebros River or Barcelona. I think, the location furthest South won.....

I feel part of the fabric of Tangier now, even though we're gone. Tangier will never go away. Morocco is like the sea, currents, storms on street corners and doldrums in the cafe. Unexpected music rising above the horizon. It's the only place in the world where standing around doing nothing in particular but being yourself is perfectionated to a high art form.

The ship is docked behind the Spanish customs ship 'Albatros', beautifully dark blue, who's crew have spoilt us from the start with wine, cheese, cakes, bread, paella and finally an entire pig leg of the finest jamon serrano. Jason Webster, a passionate writer about life in Spain has visited us with his beautiful family and friend Miles- and Elena, a longtime precious friend who's sailed on the ship and her partner Roque and Pilli introduced Claus, myself and Eddie to the customs of paella. Valencia is an old place, it was on the route of Hercules down to Cadiz- it's a confusing mix of beauty, modern and ancient and the worst examples of modern life.

Here now taking in the specific sensation of comfort on a good dock for months to come.....

Day 39 Heraclitus docked in Horta, Azores...

2010-07-28T17:17:00.000-07:00

We are alongside, most of the crew hanging out on deck and bringing back local wines, olives, cheeses, breads for savouring and enjoying being by land....the first new crew arrived, after we watched his airplane pass over our heads, Iordanis...it's a seapeople's town Horta, a seapeople port with blue water sailors, night is closing in and we rest assured with a gentle breeze knowing where we came from....and night out, night out.... (Christine)

North Atlantic Crossing in 39 Days

2010-07-28T17:09:00.000-07:00

July 26 2010, day 38 by Claus

23:00 Zulu

39.05'N
29.30'W

Yesterday early morning , when the full moon dove into the sea and just before sunrise we saw land. The islands of Flores and Corvo were to the ESE in about 35 nautical miles distance and very slowly taking shape. Zuna pointed into the right direction first because he knows that islands breathe and it took some time and squinting eyes before their silhouettes could be distinguished from the dark blue streaks of clouds that were embracing them.
…

Both are extinct volcanoes, up to 700 meters high. We were running under engine while the wind was blowing from the SSE, pushing us towards Corvo and we decided to have a closer look.

The nearer we got the more I felt humbled, almost mesmerized by this truly massive rock. Sheer cliffs, an enormous crater high up in the sky and the different shades of green were confusing my senses after many days at sea. We approached to almost half a mile distance and turned all engines off for about one hour to enjoy this special moment in style…
No trace of human life on the western face of this magnificent rock , only some hooved creatures seemed to graze in very high altitudes. Plenty sea birds, dolphins and even some whales were all around us – the ocean was teaming with life.
These islands are born of fire which gave an extra touch of magic to this wonderful return of mother earth to our realms. Very appropriate.....

Our last onion was chopped up for lunch time today by our Chinese rigger tattoo mistress and we just had a romantic glass of wine on deck to enjoy the last sunset of this voyage. Right now the engine rumbles ,1100 RPM does 4.5 knots in light winds and a smooth sea from SE - Another 50 nautical miles until Faial.
Everyone seems different…...We are hyper, somehow confused and happily excited.
A wonderful nervousness about simple things like standing on firm ground, eating an apple or looking into somebody else's eyes has come over us.

Almost almost there…
I'll have another one!

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Day 34, July 22, 2010 by Claus

Thursday
22nd of July
40.00'N
34.57'W

23:30 Zulu

Fog has come and gone, so has the sunshine and so have the moods over the past few days. Finally today a decent breeze from SW came up and we are sailing again – feels so much better.
We had turned the engine on several times and ran on just over 1000 RPM since the beginning of the week to cover at least some distance – DD 671 is noisy but does not let us down….

First Mate Zuna turned 33 and celebrated in style with his favorite dance hall reggae tunes and a crew of Rastafarians – at least we tried to be …
Happy Eddie was greeted by two local baby sunfish, drinks were plenty and of good Brazilian origin while the half intoxicated chef did his best to produce some proper chicken, beans and rice - Germaican style!

Another 5 days maybe before we arrive in Faial.
Excitement is growing slowly and people talk about strange things like trees, apples, mountains or grass.
And if the winds behave we might just sail close past the western islands of Corvo or Flores, just as a teaser, to please the eyes with unusual vertical lines, to get a whiff of land, to sense the presence of other terrestrial beings.
Hope we can take it….

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Day 31, July 21, 2010 by Christine

N 40 20
W 36 31

It is still 400 nm. We are sailing, slowly and it's sunny. We are experiencing a strong southerly current. There's a sort of excitement in the air, but nobody openly speaks about arriving in the Azores yet- we are still out here...enjoying each day of this voyage....

And an entry back from July 14- seems weeks ago...
This morning the sky is loaded with clouds, but they keep to the South West horizon. It looks more like one big wallow, rolling over the edge of the sea behind us, slowly growing like puff pastry and catching up with Heraclitus. Is this going to be the wind? We are waiting for wind. Everything is waiting for the action- the bird chatter last night, the dolphins who have been accompanying us for over a week now. Even the turtle who's massive ancient head appears every now and then from beneath the surface in a safe distance, seemingly taking in the image of the 'large floating shell' with lots of noise from the inside, which is us. There are bird feathers floating in the water for days. Small ones- little down feathers and larger ones that may have belonged to a wing. I have never seen anything like this at sea, consistently spread over a few hundred miles.

Since we aren't obviously moving just now, just drifting with 1.6 knots in more or less the right direction, the crew has started to move more busily around the ship, pacing up and down, looking for stuff, sorting thru their belongings. Not short of pointing out details to each other. People are producing what I call extravagant or at least adventurous cuisine.... Much more attention is paid to what comes out of the galley. There is voluntary cooking and especially baking- just for new sensory experience, new tastes, surprises...the usual suspects tinker long after hours in the galley now, while the rest of us hope for the fairy to pass with whatever got produced.

I want to arrive. I am longing for land, foliage. But not for the price of burning fossil fuel and the roaring of the engine. There is a definite relationship between Western timing and Western technics---this said sailing on an Eastern type sailing rig....

The puff pastry turned out to be a patch of fog, which rolled over us and is now rolling away over the other horizon.

I found out more about the bird feathers-- from previous crew member and ornithologist Duarte:
"From your description the feathers that you see on the surface belong to young birds that have left their nests still with down and are now at sea, swimming towards some feeding grounds and replacing their down feathers to proper flight, fully fledged plumage. All petrels and shear waters feed their young up to a certain point then when it is fat and ready, they abandon it and the young chick must make its way down to the water and swim (and fly) out to sea instinctively following its parents to a feeding area. At this time of the year some Northern breeding species have left their nests, so the down feathers, as they fall from the young bird, just float on the surface until eventually get wet and go underwater."

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Day 30; July 18th, 2010 by Claus

Sunday
18th of July

41.34'N
40.04'W

The wind had been light and from the direction where we want to go – so no sailing for now and we ran under engine yesterday night and again for about 6 hours last night until this morning when we started sailing with winds before the starboard beam in a not too great ENE direction.

Right now the wind has dropped, it is drizzling, the fog came back and visibility is once more down to a few hundred yards - we are drifting.
I feel far away at sea today, almost too far even though Archipelago dos Acores seems so close.
The ocean swell is very different now, much longer and composed and of a graceful elegance – very beautiful to watch but still, that did not prevent myself from falling into a state of profound melancholy. My inner self is grey in grey just like the world outside.
Somehow I expected more from 42 degrees North, somehow I felt especially intolerant towards displays of banality or childishness today, somehow I opened the wrong page of a book and began to miss someone I love – too much…..

Third mate Juan just called me on deck and out of my gloominess with certain urgency "come up quick, check this out boss!" and a 10 to 12 meter long sperm whale was slowly gliding towards us, diving just a few meters past our stern and then bobbing up his head several times as if to have a closer look at the excited little creatures on Heraclitus' deck.
Two more companions could be seen logging on the oceans surface and some huge splashes heard from not too far away.

In the midst of plenty and Jemanja seems compassionate.
I shall get better…
It's not only the birthday of big brother or sweet Brazilian Juju but also of me favorite Solomon Islander tomorrow!
Scotty cheer me up!
We must party!

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Day 29, July 16, 2010 by Claus

20:00 Zulu

41.55'N
42.12'W

The wind returned in sufficient strength on Wednesday afternoon and we started to sail again - about time as calm and doldrums feeling had its effect on psyche and moral, although not a real challenge yet but after almost 30 days, one at times prefers to not hear every sentence spoken.

Thursday morning, and with grey skies came winds and speed and also some fresh fish on our lure - a good size yellow fin tuna, maybe 15 some pounds and Rio and Lin-ly prepared some yummy Sushi that night, peace of cake to roll the bamboo mat in 30 degree of angle.
The lure was lost to something much bigger later on that day and this time I had carried our sweet little deck garden into safety before the first salty onslaught of the sea....

The wind was pumping with up to 30 knots through the night and squalls came racing past.
In the late afternoon we had a fantastic visit of a very large and unusually cheerful pod of common dolphins and their lovely little baby's, performing happy acrobatics for us on the bow in stormy grey seas. And most of us stood for long in the cold rain and marvelled at their playfulness while Heraclitus was rushing on with up to seven knots producing the kind of foaming frothy bow wave that added to those creature's bliss and actually ours too.

I had another unusual meeting with the animal kingdom in engine room when checking out the propellers stuffing box and a tiny crab came crawling up from the bilge to quickly hide under one of the steel floor plates when realizing that I had spotted it.....little dude, how did you get in? and what are you doing in here all those weeks? what happened to your family? Why are you alone? where is your love? ...Questions ,questions, questions....

The wind subsided suddenly again this morning after taking us another 125 miles closer towards our destination within 24 hours - another 700 to go before we reach the port of Horta on the island of Faial.
Right now the sky is clearing up and we are sailing ESE in light northerly winds making up to 3 knots only - hope the wind will stay some time....

On supplies: the 8-12 watch and especially young unflinching Abi, the woman in charge did brilliant in checking and managing the fresh supplies and all the rest of the stocks.
We hardly threw a thing away, also because it is so much cooler than usual.
We are now down to one crate of onions, one of potatoes, some good amount of garlic and some few hundred eggs of which the first disappointing rotten ones have said hello recently....;the freezers are still packed with meat and frozen veggies and other goodies and we carry enough canned food, rice, beans and flour to make it through till Christmas - we for sure not gonna starve out here.

All other systems are working good or at least good enough and so far we have used approximately 1,500 liters of diesel - a quarter of our total fuel capacity.

We are by far not there yet...

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Day 26, July 14, 2010 by Claus

12:00 Zulu

42.07'N
46.54'W

The calm and the fog had become faithful companions for the past 5 days , wet and cold and fascinating.
Shortly after dawn when the suns rays started to work their way through the thick mist another divine manifestation of nature could be observed to the west. A defined semi circle of bright white light with only the faintest hint of rainbow colors could be seen just a few hundred yards away - like a vision of a miraculous gate to another realm worth a grand entrance of the winged horse Pegasus or some other mythical creature was natures fine gift to us for a few recent mornings.
We almost solidly refrained from running our main engine not only to save fuel and nerves but also to appreciate these rare manifestations of the planet's grace in appropriate silence and humility.

Fog seems to be prevalent north of 42 degrees north and fog horns could be heard a few times, reminding us that we're not quite alone.
Radar has become so very useful and is to be checked every 20 minutes if the visibility deteriorates.

Question!
What are you actually doing out there?

The term 'Man Time' was coined about 5 years ago by a great Tasmanian sailor friend when cruising the South Pacific islands of Vanuatu. It is the manly display of muscular power, ideally in the mid day sun accompanied by heavy sweating and swearing; simple push ups, pull ups or sit ups that were at least in those fine old days geared at making up for heavy consumption of Kava in the local 'Nakamas' the night before or at getting rid of body fat and waste from eating too much of the horrible instant noodle soups that had become a major part of mine and Eddie's diet. If that was not motivation enough, one could always find some woman or other alpha male to impress....
'Anaerobic' is inspired by a recent meeting in Bahamas with a free dive maniac and old time Heraclitus fan , who had not only witnessed Heraclitus being dreamt up in 1975 in Oakland California but who had also helped many years later to free her after she was dragging anchor in a nasty winter storm onto a sand bank off the coast of Florida.
He was happy to see the ship again in Bahamas after more than 20 years and continued to be a fan and friend and inspiration.

At 42 N/47 W I could not carry rocks across the ocean floor or dare to pet a bull shark on its nose but I can hold my breath in solitude, performing anaerobic 'man time' on the bow - take me down to 120....

My maddening exhales after 50 repetitions must have sounded like a dolphin in distress which might explain why 4 white bellied dudes came flying at me as if to my rescue or savior 2 mornings ago and whistled their sweet clicks to me for more than 20 minutes until sure that I was fine....

The sea is calm and somehow grows ever bigger and makes the ship shrink and being so close to each other more challenging than before....Some of us are getting edgy and little things are blown out of proportion and now we wait for winds and a change of moods and attitude.

Last moonless night adrift again and the silence of the universe was enchanting and interrupted only by the excited trilling of a gang of tiny happy sea birds or the not so distant frequent blows and splashes from whales and dolphins - few ships but lots of life and the strange but welcome feeling of being further away from everything than ever.

Strong winds and rain are forecast in 2 days from now - bring em on ,it is time.....

Now, just now a shark came cruising by and is still hanging out the first mate just remarked - I believe the 4 foot oceanic white tip is looking for some company or just a little hungry, how ever it left the beautiful sun fish, first one i have seen in ages alone.

vive la revolution

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Day 24, July 12, 2010 by Lyn-Li

Into the Deep

Three weeks into the journey and we are deep within the ocean in every way. How can I explain this?
The smell of the sea penetrates deeper into my nostrils. The dew, and lately the fog, that clings to
my skin and my clothes goes deeper into my pours. In the early morning, there is a desperate quietude
that hangs over everything. I feel like there is community down below us and all around us, but I am
completely foreign to it. I am an observer in this place- roughly a thousand miles from Freeport to the
west and Azores to the east- and I am confined to an 82 foot space. I am grateful for the protection of
this ship, the mama-whale Heraclitus that scoops us up in her belly every night and lets us play, frolic
and work all around her during the day. However, I am also curious about what is out there too. The mass
of four-pronged jellyfish I saw bobbing amongst the glassy swells this morning while leaning over the
starboard side, a pod of pilot whales with dark fins gliding and bodies surfacing- the span of their pod
was from the ship to almost a fourth of a mile away!, the strange, duck-looking birds that fly around us
in the twos and threes- where do all of these creatures come from? There are cities under the ocean, I
imagine. And a watery language human beings can only learn in blips and blops.

The fog these days makes every sense and sound a bit more gentle and the words we use to communicate a bit
more profound. A kindness warms the heart like a fire to a waterlogged soul and, in the same vein, a coarse
word stings even sharper. I have heard that the Heraclitus was designed to enhance interaction between crew
members. I am grateful for this. We have created, by design and by necessity, our own community here on top
of the sea. The way I see it, this community stands for the city, the state, the nation, the world. Whatever
healing amongst its members is done here- out where every word echoes across billions of gallons of sea water,
has an effect on the whole. Every action must, by design, ripple across the miles and be felt on the other side
of the world.

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Day 21, July 10, 2010 by Claus

July 10 2010

41.50'N
50.57'W

Thick fog embraced us for most of yesterday, the 4-8 had even lost sight of the bow for some time before dawn and this created a wonderfully surreal atmosphere and the senses were confused for a moment or it just took some time to realize that ears were more useful than eyes that morning.
Some miraculous force had taken away the horizons and we were in a dreamlike wonderland where, although all seemed calm around us, some distant noises sounded just like water falling; and maybe the edge of the world was somewhere near...

We heard the faint sound of a fog horn before we checked the radar to see a target in 8 nautical miles distance.
Although we had talked to motor tanker 'Spartia' via radio and were assured that we were showing on their radar and that they would keep a safe distance, the slow crescendo of the horn and then the slow increase of engine sounds was exciting and in the end we only saw a distinct long horizontal white line behind a magic curtain some thousand yards away - only the bow wave could be seen but no ship ... huuhuuhuuhh

Heraclitus feels sober, somehow collected and continues to move along in an unusual fashion, almost without a sound in the lightest of winds on a very calm ocean. Cool wind and a hot sun and mist and fog at night - thank you for that....

We have sailed over a deep part of this ocean, the so called Sohm abyssal plain for the past week or so and are soon crossing the Newfoundland Ridge - land 300 miles to port side only.....Canada I love you.

Today is Rio's birthday and we suddenly all turned into wrinkly, ugly, sexy grandmas and are drinking carajillo and sweet liquors on the poop deck and listen to Janis Joplin or play some ourselves and not today but soon too soon I will tell you about anaerobic man time, dolphins, fire holes and the fascinating resurrection of the mint.
The Fog has come in fast just now and I estimate a visibility of not more than a 100 yards. Break break to the music and listen for some horn before dancing on....The sun still there but leaving soon....

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Day 20, July 8, 2010 by Claus

41.05'N
53.12'W

So our boys failed in Durban against Spain last night - I had to witness this national tragedy on Radio and the expedition chief helped me out with a bottle of white rum from Hispaniola to drown my sorrows. Fascinating that a little leather ball kicked around by some young country man many thousand miles away can turn me into a real German for a moment - I was ready to order the crew to burn guitars and dump chorizos and all olive oil over board but fortunately remembered good times, old friends and sweet lovers from Iberia and that Barcelona will be home to our vessel in just a few months from now - I came to my senses.
Detachment is so difficult for me but the single most important thing I want to accomplish on this journey...

The sea had turned greenish and cold in wise anticipation yesterday morning, we were becalmed and quietly drifting towards the south - not good.
New little orange jelly fish of classical shape hovered around, a gang of four yellow fin tuna cruised by,large dolphins could be observed but stayed distant most of the afternoon.
The clear nights are marvelous out here with no bastard light pollution from anywhere one can see the stars brighter than ever and feels so much closer to the universe and the ocean adds to the magic with a constant increase of bio luminescence over the past few days. Even Carlos who had confessed to me upon arrival in Bahamas his phobia of the seas - welcome aboard sailor...- has by now turned into a solid ocean lover.

At midnight we got weak and turned our main engine on . The weather charts we received are disappointing and Freddy suggestion that we might find better conditions to the North made good sense to me. We continued under engine towards NE until lunch time today and are sailing 60 degrees since then making 2.5 to 3 knots in a gentle breeze from NW and very little swell.

We are getting further away from land every day and it truly starts to feel like that, wild creatures seem to become more curious and want to check us out. An unidentified whale or maybe even whale shark has come close and showed his huge dorsal fin some hours ago and a truly gigantic turtle swam past our stern just now.

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Day 19, July 7, 2010 by Christine

N 40 08
W 53 55
Ah, the sea...le voyage...the space between life and death, where questions arise and also answers- many answers, those before arrival and those after reaching land. These are parallel lives on different planets......after more than two weeks at sea it feels very out there.
A few days ago I looked out of the lady's head porthole while taking a shower and I spotted land. Of course I knew it was impossible, but I fancied the illusion for a few seconds, studying the clouds which formed a perfect skyline of ragged mountains. I imagined lush green valleys with oak forests and rushing streams of fresh water. Was this a surprise by the Captain or fabled Mount Analogue... But no....,it's still over a thousand nautical miles to go...
Then yesterday I spotted a small turtle, again at a glance out of the porthole- which is an amazing coincidence, the ship becoming a laterna magica. Distractions aren't abundant but not absent--there is lots of Sargasso grass floating in the ocean with micro ecosystems of crustaceans and tiny fish swimming underneath. Pods of dolphins (or again and again the same one...) are frolicking in the distance. The water is a deep blue-green color - the temperature has dropped to 23 degrees Celsius from 37 degrees just a few weeks ago. It is almost dead calm now. An ever so slight whiff of wind and sunny. There is giggling and laughter from the galley and from the stern -still from Bahamas we carried a very large yam root, which Gabriella has been making chips from for the past 3 days. She called it 'Albert'...and Albert was devoured today... We will motor after dinner, to keep up the pace, just in case, and to reach higher latitudes where the winds are said to be blowing strong enough to push the ship forward- at least the black arrows on the wind map look a little thicker, though they have promised us a force 4 now and here we are in gentle big swells with little ripples...ah, yes, the sea...
(Captain Claus excuses himself today from the blog, because the German soccer team is out of the tournament....)

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Day 18, July 6, 2010 by Claus

15:00 Zulu

40.20'N
55.06'W

Blue skies and light winds from the S for almost 2 days now, interrupted only once by a little squall yesterday afternoon and Heraclitus is swaying soft and gently back and forth while the rigging creeks and squeaks a little sweet song of pleasant idleness upon a vast but quiet ocean - sounds almost too romantic,doesn't it.....

Two white lights on top of each other plus a green and a red approaching our starboard stern meant that just before midnight a cargo ship came steaming right towards us. Gilson woke me up, our deck flood lights all on and shining bright, trying to raise attention and one could already hear the sound of their gigantic engines - high time to turn on our DD 671 as there was no reaction from the 10.000 tons of boat that was surprisingly fast closing in from behind. In the end a powerful spotlight that we were flashing right onto their bridge did the job and they finally changed their course to starboard passing us in less 2 cables distance, our eyes glued onto that big wall of steel and no word spoken until their port light disappeared - some extra late night entertainment.

This morning was another beauty, Mahi Mahi still around, obviously not taking it personal that we had killed a few of them; Tuna chasing flying fish to port and what had just floated past was not a plastic bottle but a Portuguese man of war, a somehow graceful jelly fish of fascinating color that can cause extreme pain when accidentally touched - time for a swim stop....

Good wind is forecast for this afternoon, it is time to move and make some way - 1280 miles to Horta in Azores. 2400 miles to Tangier.

18:00 local time, a few hours later and still blue skies but now with a moderate breeze from SW and we are sailing due east on a starboard tack with 4.5 knots.

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Day 17, July 5, 2010 by Claus

11:00 Zulu

40.08'N
55.52'W

It is one of those exceptional mornings, one that makes you feel more alive than usual.
A blue clean sky complemented by a fresh, gentle, cool breeze of air that almost has a taste and the horizon is somehow further away than ever - in one word best described as crisp and best enjoyed in solitude without a single word spoken....

The sun came back yesterday and the wind shifted to a favorable S To SW direction but only for a few hours.
We are hove 2 again since 3 o'clock this night, the Gulf stream got weak or is somewhere else - we are drifting NE with only half a knot, at least we are not loosing ground.
We have not lost our momentum yet and shall just wait now. The weather will change to our advantage one of these days. It is a good day to top up the water tanks, the desalinator does not work well in rough seas.
DD 671 is on holiday and saving fuel seems all worth it these days...

Argentina/Brazil 3 to 1 - that is in fish caught yesterday afternoon and prepared for Sunday night dinner by Juan and Gilson.
The Mahi Mahi family that has faithfully followed Heraclitus to the east got smaller.

At least yesterday I felt for a moment what I did not expect anymore from this crew: Some kind of transformation has taken place; and people that somehow could not before, have started to talk or laugh or just be with each other.
Maybe it is the fresh fish, the fresh air or simply some ancient wisdom of Heraclitus?

Change is the only constant and some white caps can be seen on starboard side.

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Day 16, July 4, 2010 by Claus --- 1,380nm to go

39.49'N
56.58W
Half hour till breakfast.
Rain drops are falling on our deck ......and a grey sphere has now well established itself over the ship for the past 2 days. We are hove 2 under a featureless sky in easterly winds, just tacked a few times to drift in a more favorable direction.
The grey brought with it some tristesse and woolen socks, new hats and sweaters and shoes and the reminder that most of our foul weather gear does not really keep you dry for long and I dearly miss my favorite blanket that I've lost somewhere in America.

Slow progress but at least progress, and an invisible helms man took us about 80 nautical miles to the NE - it is only another few miles before we cross the latitude of 40 degrees N, not a usual hang out for 'Heraclitus tropical' but this is where we planned to be - I am not up for doldrums, not the right crew and not the right time in my life...:
Up here they say we will find more prevalent South westerlies, up here its wet and cold and windy. It is summer time and I shall not complain!

Yesterday the hand of god took possession of my right for a moment and I managed to tune into a fine signal of "Deutsche Welle" on our new but somehow very complicated SSB radio and we listened to Argentina playing against Germany and it was a difficult day for Juan - I felt sorry, not even 1 goal for Argentina !

Inspired by football team Germany's great performance I volunteered to cook together with Rio that night - pork ribs, potatoes and sauerkraut is probably what our Cape town boys were having too. However I could not convince the crew of the importance of including sauerkraut in their diet although even Captain Cook had carried this French/German delicacy on his fantastic voyages some hundred years ago. Our half way party in Synesthesia was sweet while a force 6 with cold rain blew outside until I pulled the plug for many reasons in a sudden attack of grumpiness around 23:00 - maybe I am getting old....did someone just call me party-pooper monster?

So while I am writing this the sky lit up and shows us shapes of clouds and even patches of blue here and there. The wind turned to almost W and we are trying to sail in a light force 3 - just enough or maybe not to keep us going.

The sun might just come back today and a Mahi Mahi family is accompanying us for some time now - they are such fantastically beautiful fish , faithful to their soul mate I think and so very tasty - we are too slow to trawl a line.....

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Day 15, July 2, 2010 by Abi

I never dreamt I would see mountains in the ocean. Huge walls streaked with white rising up above my head before dropping under the ship and propelling me to their highest peaks. Riding the waves is both exhilarating and alarming. Catch a swell the right way and you glide across the surface of the ocean. Catch one the wrong way and the ship gets flung violently on it's side, water cascading over the deck and through the portholes. My favorite place is on top of a wave, teetering, peering down into the caverns and slopes formed by the wind. From this viewpoint I feel simultaneously gigantic and miniscule. The height produces an illusion of grandeur, while the vastness of the ocean and the knowledge that I can just as easily be under the wave humbles me. Days like this whisper secrets in my ear - I am grateful to the universe for sharing it's wisdom.

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Day 14, July 2, 2010 by Claus

14:20 Zulu

38.54'N
58.27 'W

So we got it all yesterday....
Around 8:00 our time the sky closed to the NW and turned dark blue and grey and the wind increased in speed to a fine gale force and the waves got larger with their crests tumbling and breaking into spindrift, rushing past the ship.
Just on the edge and just before feeling threatened, so it was a great joy to be on the helm or stand on deck and to see and feel the ship being pushed and driven by these great forces of mother ocean.
Xtine happily enjoying the rush of Adrenalin while helming the black lady down hill as if skiing down the Alps; Abi was not really expecting to see mountains out here, I had 3 xtra large salt water showers this morning on deck while Gilson was humbly humming his favorite Daime songs from Brazil- every single one of us was kind of smiling - Just great if nothing goes wrong.....

Shortly after lunch the dark skies had caught up with us and it started to rain heavily and the wind stopped as we were right on the border line, where a strong Northwesterly meets a strong Southwesterly - the sea as if intoxicated performing a dance of sudden madness - Heraclitus being tossed around on a vast confused ocean. We tightened all lines and sheets to stop the fore and mainsail from banging and shaking and jerking around - now hove 2.
The daily ships meeting at 13:00 in command room was a bit special, at least for me as I could announce an unusually impressive days run, that means the distance sailed in the past 24 hours.
We had traveled from 38.16,9'N/63.41,4W at noon on June 30th to the position 39.00,3N/59.48,6W within 24 hours - a brilliant 186 nautical miles - I believe we broke a record there, our own but still a record!

Our diesel stove has an attitude in rough conditions too and started to burn a little hell fire in the afternoon and then smoked out the interior and made us cough and the alarms go off while the outside world had turned wet and cold.
Later around 19:00 the seas had calmed enough and the wind returned from SW and we sailed again with solid determination towards Azores accompanied by interludes of strong gusts and heavy rain.
Since 4:00 this night the wind has dropped and shifted to W and NW and now NE, so we are hove 2 again, drifting with no one on the helm - today is grey, but still we are magically moving with 3.9 knots in 112 degrees - we are doing something right....

Now while waiting for a change in weather, we are cleaning everywhere, scooping up water from under the Synesthesia floor, trying to find the right station to listen to Brazil against Holland, cope with each others presence while in idle, drink Mate, hot chocolate or coffee or tea and get used to the new rhythm of the cold

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Day 13, July 1, 2010

09:00 zulu

It is the early morning of the first of July.

The severe storm warning of a few days ago by Freddy has fortunately been down graded but we are in for some very heavy rains today.
The HIGH SEAS FORECAST FOR METAREA IV of
NWS OCEAN PREDICTION CENTER WASHINGTON DC
2230 UTC WED JUN 30 2010 is headed by a PAN PAN.
Issued are 2 gale warnings for the Western North Atlantic.
One of those is ours and I am watching the skies of our stern and feel the ocean swells growing bigger, they are the messengers of what is about to come.

We have sailed with an amazing speed and consistency over the past 48 hours in SW winds between 20 to 30 knots.
Heraclitus has never performed like this - at least not in my time.. maybe she knows and is just running, maybe she just wants to please me.
So far the ocean has shown its beautiful face to us and we had fine blue skies and waters,the nights were magic and temperatures very agreeable. The next 24 - 48 hours shall be different.

We put more lashings into the mainsail in case we have to reef and there is always more ship shaping. The watches are 12-4 Zuna and Mo, 4-8 Juan, Carlos and Lindly, 8-12 Gilson, Gabriella, Abi and Rio. xtine and myself are random and jump in when ever we are needed.

The Mizzen sail is down for days now, not strong enough above force 5 anymore. Fore and Main I trust and will stay up until we reach force 9 or until my instinct tells me some thing else.

The crew should be in good nick as most of them got christened in a gale off Hispaniola, when we had lost our steering 4 miles of a leeward shore, just 6 weeks ago.

We will sail with following seas and winds from the starboard quarter, so if the waves start to break and roll they will crash into Heraclitus strong and sexy stern - Helmsman better stay on course today!

Today we might tickle the bull, I am excited.

It is 12:00 Zulu now
We are sailing with 7.5 knots in 070 degrees, the sun is in our face right now, clouds are building slowly of our stern but no rain yet - all looks innocent so far....
Position is:
38.55'N
60.36'W

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Day 11, June 29, 2010 by Claus

June 29th

23:00 Zulu/1800 LMT

38.05'N
66.02'W

The winds came back early morning, 2 days ago - after we had drifted through the night, preserving fuel and waiting for confused seas to calm down...
We wanted to find the gulf stream again and winds in our favor took us closer to the coordinates of its axis - Freddy thanks for those updates.
The afternoon turned exciting when we finally had a huge Mahi Mahi on the hook of the line we were trawling - very decent fight to bring the mans leg sized fish on the deck - Mo thought someone had a seizure when she heard us screaming and wrestling with the beautiful beast on the stern.
Gilson and Juan paraded the bloody fish below decks before it was even gutted and we ate it all the same night, only the head made a fantastic soup today for lunch. We had sashimi, raw fish Polynesian style and fried steaks and turned all hyper from a mega boost of protein - Jemanja had taken a liking and was not quite done yet..
The moon came up about 2 hours after sunset, we were now getting close to what Freddy had called "the last strong segment of the Gulf stream", the wind increased continuously from SW until we were finally sailing in a near gale on a stbd tack.
I did not sleep that night, not because it was so rough but rather because I was so excited. Heraclitus surfing following seas with swells of up to 3 to 4 or sometimes even 5 meters it seemed - Eddie and me in awe when most marvelous 2 dolphins came shooting out of one wave that was just ready to break while lifting Heraclitus stern effortless towards the night sky. Plenty of water was gushing over the decks that night. Even had a close call with a motor tanker that did not answer the radio at first and crossed our bow in only half mile distance - we had right of way and were possibly for the first time the faster boat.
Clouds were chasing past the moon, all lit in beautiful yellow moon light and the best was what the GPS was telling us: Heraclitus was almost flying tonight with a top speed of 11.3 knots - fuckin' magic!
As far as I know that was breaking the ships speed record.
Today the task is to do the best days run ever which should be somewhere between 170 to 180 nm. Forecast is good...
Zunas birthday will be celebrated in the Azores I said, that is the 19th of July. Ride on.

Wind is still from SW with 25 knots and the gulf stream our friend.
Currently doing 7.5 knots in 075 degrees. The ocean is a Majesty .
Tomorrow is another day.

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Day 8, June 27, 2010

The weather reports show a gale coming in from mainland USA by July 2, so we are hurrying East now to get out of range, with 6.5 knots. Obviously we are back in the gulf stream. It rained yesterday, and the day before- and seems to be getting cooler. The sky also looks different- of course, we are 36 North now...This afternoon, we repaired a few pending jobs on the rigging to get ready for weather. Filled the diesel drums from the deck into our tanks, took some things below deck for ship shaping, Eddie got his warm gear ready...just in case....so we were reminiscing about the North Pacific Crossing, which we did together on Heraclitus many years ago.
I cooked lunch today. Luckily, the fresh food is still holding up, even though most of it got refrigerated before coming onboard. But I have to admit, that I chose the tiny onions and garlic cloves still left from Cuba over the same from the Bahamas, which had been shipped in from mainland US. The fruits and vegetables from Cuba were exquisitely tasty. The produce we have now from Freeport looks unblemished and uniform, but it tastes bland and is going off rapidly.

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Day 6, June 25, 2010 by Christine

Night before last, Eddie's watch, the 12-4 broke the speed record --9.9 knots...I heard Eddie laughing with joy on the helm. Today we are doing 5.2 knots, mostly due to the wind, a force 6 and good sailing with 5 points behind the beam. The 'leano-meter' shows a 10-15 degrees angle. I admit our obsession with speed- of course faster means arriving somewhere earlier or relaxing and swim stops when there is no wind...Yesterday one of the battery chargers and converters stopped working and the SSB fuse blew- Claus and Rio communicated with Freddy and solved the problems. Just a reminder to appreciate technics...
A school of squid squirted past the ship, some landed on deck for potential snacks, small ones, 4-5 cm. Other than that a storm petrel keeps circling us and sargasso grass.
We are slowly going to move out of the center of the gulf stream, to stay with stronger winds-

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Day 5, June 23, 2010 by Christine

Herclitus is now 110nm East off Charleston. This afternoon we passed a field of wild turbulent water, the sea looked white with spray, as if in a force 6. Amazing, I could even hear the water splashing. Also, huge swells overtaking us from the stern. It is still calm, but now the ship is rocking from side to side, gently tossed about by those hills of water from afar. They probably are a precursor of the good wind which is predicted to arrive tomorrow.

North Atlantic Crossing

2010-07-28T17:02:00.000-07:00

The Day BEFORE departure, June 18, 2010 by Christine

It's time...The crew was really ready to go! This was supposed to be the day of departure from the North American continent to North Africa and finally Europe....but...when Eddie tested the engineering systems, he discovered that our trusted winch had sprung a major hydraulic oil leak at one of the fittings. We could not depart without replacing it. Another tryout in patience and going with the flow. If we would have to order the part and wait for days for it's arrival, the food for the voyage would rot in the heat, further harbor bills would mount, not to mention what this would do to our morale...
Everyone kept acting graciously collected and poised for leaving port and traveling across the majestic North Atlantic Ocean, which is where the great history of the expansion of Western Sea People began, with the Vikings and maybe others before.
Claus put all vectors in motion to resolve the problem and was hoping to either find or fix the part the next morning. Greg Howe helped with precious advice. He was running the dockyard in Bardford Marine and had met the Heraclitus when she was built in San Francisco in 1974. And then again in 1989, he helped pull the Heraclitus off a sandbank, when she got swept onshore during a gale in Florida. He is an accomplished free diver and continues to be a great fan of the Heraclitus.
In the evening, Claus and I went with a couple of, hopefully, last Bahamian "Sands" beers to a bottle strewn but nice beach. Overlooking the dark open sea and starry sky and the oil terminals, we shared contemplations about departures, voyages, love, life this that and the other.
A voyage at sea is always a new beginning or an end to something. Only the truly significant remains. The echo of the past grows faint and the future becomes a place to go...the next port, and we become the ship in between, leaving only a quickly disappearing trail.

Day 1, June 19, 2010 by Christine

All night each deck check sprayed WD40 on the fitting that was seized. Before the general wake up call, Claus and Gilson managed to extract the fitting and went off to the shipyard in search of parts. Miraculously, they got an appropriate piece of hose from a neighboring barge and on a back shelf in the depths of the engine room, found a fitting that worked.

Then off we go...

Heraclitus left Freeport at 16:00 hours on June 19th, a quiet Saturday afternoon. Captain Claus skillfully turned the ship
around in the narrow creek, a delicate maneuver because the super yacht Helios had docked very close behind us.
And then.... off to Tangiers/Spain via the Azores, 3,150nm.

Once we passed the fare way buoy, we raised the sails. That evening we had dinner on deck together, enjoying
our last view of land for weeks to come. Once it got dark, we could see the glow of Florida on port - orange
and very bright - a phenomena which will probably accompany us for a while or at least as long as we are so close
to the US East coast. The water is clear and clean, no rubbish in hours, except a large white piece of plastic, and
there are streaks of pine needles from the pine tree plantations of Grand Bahamas floating in patches.

Day 1, June 19, 2010 by Rio
REFLECTIONS ON THE FIRST DAY

Today we commenced the Atlantic Crossing Voyage, the next major leg of the Coral Sea to Black Sea Expedition. Our trajectory will take us from Freeport in the Bahamas to the Azores, Tangiers, and then to Spain. The crew enthusiastically cast off from our dock at Bradford Marine late in the afternoon after we shot our group photo and we were finally ready for the voyage we had all been dreaming about: six to eight weeks at sea without sight of land, without internet and cell phones and with only ourselves and the sea creatures for company. With this journey, we have the opportunity to bask in the blessed simplicity of life at sea. Did the sages who encouraged us to simplify our lives receive their teaching from the early Sea People?

We had been preparing the ship for the voyage for the last ten days, ever since we arrived in the Bahamas from Santiago de Cuba. The hydraulic steering pump was repaired, our emergency steering system was overhauled and made operational again, and numerous other repairs had been made. On Thursday, a truckload of food arrived and a stowing party proceeded for several hours. During the long crossing, we will be traveling on our stomachs with no way to replenish food supplies, other than the luck of our anglers, so care and skill is essential in stowing the food for preservation and finding it for use.

Capt. Claus accompanied his departure meeting with an impassioned speech stating his intention to deliver the Heraclitus intact and all of the crew alive to the Mediterranean. He pointed out that while we may not like all of our crew mates, we owed each other respect, since we all share the responsibility for maintaining a safe and ship-shape vessel.

On our first night at sea, we enjoyed a lively "Saturday night out" informal dinner on deck as twilight turned to the star-studded night that brought some respite from the heat and humidity. Being at sea also gave us relief from the annoying bites of the "no see-ums" that had plagued us on shore. In celebration of our last view of land, Juan and I served up a surprise desert of sliced bananas and ice cream that Juan had magically made earlier in the day!

Our discussion at dinner that night ran the gamete from the significance and meaning of enlightenment to a proposal for "table" dances. Then Lyn-Li, in her casual journalistic style, asked Christine, Claus, and I about our previous experiences with long sea passages. Christine, veteran of a 152-day voyage, recalled that a long time at sea stimulates the welling-up of memories from deep within. I recalled the challenges and stresses of the 36-Day Survival Voyage during the Around the Tropic World Expedition. For that expedition, such a long voyage had not been planned. Every day was a fight for survival, so I personally am looking forward to a long intentional voyage. Claus commented that while a long voyage on the Heraclitus is communal by design, the experience is ultimately individual. He commented that after about two weeks at sea, he begins to feel a oneness with the ocean, a new found and rare freedom, and perhaps most importantly, the enjoyment that comes from spare time for reading and reflection. The Captain said that he enjoys the truly rare luxury of leaving behind the concerns of the land and entering the world and life of Sea People.

We often hear of the challenges that long voyages presented to early sailors, and while we know we may have our fair share, rarely do we hear of the pleasures of long passages- the time it affords one for conversation and companionship, for reading and writing, for reflection and for contemplation of the universe and life. These are pleasures that have all but disappeared from our everyday life, crazy with the latest twits and tweets of the moment, the horrors of the current economic situation, and the never-ending battles of politicians who promise us peace but fail to deliver it. This peace is something that several weeks at sea can magically provide.

After months of discussions by Christine and I with numerous individuals who considered making the historic passage, our crew of eleven lucky persons, settled into our new world. They are: Captain Claus Tober, Germany; Expedition Chief Christine Handte, Germany; Voyage Photographer Rio Hahn, USA; First Mate Eddie Zuna, Solomon Islands; Second Mate Gilson Nagel, Brazil; Third Mate Juan Campos, Argentina; Galley Manager Abi Shapiro, USA; Librarian Gabriella Daris, Greece; Assistant Rigger Mo Yip, USA; and Crew Members Lyn-Li Torres Pugh, USA, Carlos Vindel, Honduras and Expedition Chief Christine Handte, Germany.

Robert "Rio" Hahn is an explorer, photographer and organic farmer who hails from many ports, including the RV Heraclitus and Bonsall, California.

Day 2, June 20, 2010 by Lyn-Li
SETTLING IN

"Each moment is a place you've never been." - Mark Strand

The current eleven-member crew of the RV Heraclitus began our journey to cross the Atlantic two days ago as we motored out of Freeport, Bahamas with 3,150 miles to go until the Azores. Now at the end of this day, we are ninety miles closer to the next time we will see dry land. What exactly does this mean? Six weeks with only the hull of a ferro-cement ship between us and the deep sea is a concept that is hard for the majority of us, who have spent our lives with our feet planted firmly on solid ground, to wrap our heads around. It makes sense, then, that today was a quiet day. There was a collective pensiveness that surrounded us on this second day of the voyage. A veteran to many such journeys once told me that it takes a while for the body to adjust to life at sea. I image the same goes for the mind and the spirit as well. There is a freedom, of course, in being surrounded by all this water. Yet at the same time, it reminds one of how limited and how infinitesimally small one truly is. And so perhaps this is the process we go through as we settle in to our daily routines - the team dynamics of our respective Watches, the at-sea routine of meals, both formal and informal, the maintenance of ourselves and the ship, the endless things that must be taught and learned.

Meanwhile, the elements have been kind to us. The sea was calm as glass through late afternoon and then we were treated to some swell action. Captain Claus let Assistant Rigger Mo and I let out the sails a bit and tack the main sail to starboard side. Tiny puffs of wind made the Heraclitus kick up her heels just a bit, a preface of more to come as we journey north. It seems that when the Heraclitus moves through water powered only by the elements and the sails on its deck is when the magic happens. Even though we were only going about three knots (sometimes four) while under sail, it felt good to finally turn the motor off and, with only the sound of the wind through the flaps, let the ship do its thing.

By evening, Captain gave the orders to "heave to" in preparation for our first "formal" Sunday night dinner at sea (a Heraclitus tradition). The pink sky of twilight was beginning to turn dark as we sat around the carpet up on deck holding tin cups of red wine and giving toasts. "A toast!" First Mate Eddie called out, "to making friends at every port!" And then- the clanking of tin against tin as the toast was acknowledged full circle. After toasting to friends and family, ports past and ports to come, Carlos and Gabriella put on a funny, sexy and very relevant theme about bugs in the Bahamas and, over desert, the speeches began. One by one, the members of this diverse and dedicated group stood and spoke about their fears, hopes and expectations for the weeks ahead.

Through the words of thanks (like- Thank God we are finally out of mosquito-infested Freeport!), celebration, reflection and excitement, I noticed the weaving of a delicate common thread. On everybody's mind seemed to be the ship itself- that humble and sturdy vessel that has introduced countless individuals around the world over the last thirty years to life at sea.

Notable Quotables:
"Now I can finally say, 'This is it. There is no turning back.' " - Juan
"I get comfort, sometimes, in the not knowing." - Claus
"When I get back on dry land, I will have sex with the earth." - Carlos
"Working the 12-4 shift makes me appreciate the importance of the stars." - Mo
"I use to be so excited about the idea of going on the crossing. But now that we are doing it, it is no big deal." - Gilson

Lyn-Li Torres Pugh is a writer, editor and teacher who recently sold her car and moved out of her cute little casita in Taos, NM to sail across the Atlantic on the RV Heraclitus.

Day 2, June 20, 2010 by Christine

Since this morning we have been doing 7.8 knots, though motoring, because there is not much wind. Freddy is
sending us weather reports and indications of where the centre of the Gulf Stream is located, so we can sit ourselves
fat in the middle. Today he predicted a stream speed of 2 knots North, almost precisely at our current position of
N 27 58, W 29 39. It's very quiet onboard, except the engine roaring, as everyone is sleeping off the heat and the
last few days of mad departure preparations. Late in the day we quieted the main engine and generator, and once again
enjoyed the rhythmic creaking of the rigging, and a late afternoon light breeze.

Day 3, June 21, 2010 by Christine

It is cloudy all around- low nimbus clouds, waiting to unload. Not much wind. No more pine needles, but now Sargasso grass- orange bushels with tiny grapes on them (I wish...). I remember 24 years ago on one of my first voyages, Duarte Camara cooked Sargasso grass for hours - though I don't remember who ate it, not me, but I tried and...it was very tough. There are not so many ships compared to the traffic of many specific passages in Asia in the past. I would have expected more ships here as supposedly we are sitting in the middle of the gulf stream. Floating along nicely with 1.7 knots just now, no wind and no engine. It's Solstice today, the longest day of the Northern year. Dancing on deck with the late setting sun and under the stars. It was a good one...

Day 4, June 22, 2010 by Christine

Gilson and Eddie are untangling a fishing line. There's a school of Mahi Mahi fish following us, but they don't bite, no matter what hook or what type of line Eddie puts out. In the meantime, the 8 -12 watch, Abi and Carlos are busy inspecting the fresh produce for foul items. It's hot- already in the morning it is too hot to walk on deck, we have to run from one shady place to another or get the soles of our feet seared...
Tonight is the traditional salon evening onboard the R/V Heraclitus and the theme is 'The gulfstream', the biggest river in the world. I observed turbulent areas in the sea today, irregular currents or eddies- just like in a real stream, rough water, white caps. Claus is setting our course according to a printed line on a US navy chart from 1966, which supposedly marks the centre axis of the gulf stream. He is of course meticulously integrating Freddy's reports and updates. We are fast- 6.2 knots. Almost every time I scanned the surface of the water today I saw pieces of rubbish. But also- a pod of a dozen of bottle nose dolphins rode the bow for an hour.

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Salinas, Dominican Republic

2010-05-01T16:47:00.001-07:00

Crew left to right Gabriella, Ali, Freddy, Rio and April

Black Magic Ship

2010-03-21T12:24:00.000-07:00

The Heraclitus is a work of art, and I am there to help keep recreating her. It wasn't my idea to build her not did I design the ship, but I lived onboard for most of the past 23 years...The people change, the woodwork changes, the curtains, the cuttlery and mostly everything inside the ship is not the same as in the beginnig. Even the hull must have been replaced nearly entirely, the mast, the battons, the sails, the ropes. But the form is the same.

Heraclitus magic is many different people keep working together. It's impossible. Essentially if you can't stand it anymore you need to get out of the kitchen. Whether you are on or off the ship. If you get off the ship you still have to work together with other people. That is the only thing that makes you really grow.....

Atlantic Crossings

2010-02-23T13:30:00.000-08:00

Here's a poem by Ishmael Annobil about an ancient story of sailors heading across the sea to distant shores

Abalaa

Where are the men of the first aplodo*

whose ambition for the blue yonder

transpired in this village and

held us captive for six long months

Where did the albatross lead them,

thirsty as they might have been

for the trickle of nature,

forlorn and homesick

even as they harried their oars

over the emblems of hope that

dressed the sides of their canoe,

whose resolute prow held live chickens

for the gods of the sea

and snorted through each wave

like a whaler’s retriever?

We are waiting on these shores for news,

tortured by sailors’ tales of a phantom canoe

roaming the seas with its crew of begging ghosts.

But none mentions the chickens,

so we wait for news

of their new nation.

(2/2/2000 Euston-Watford, Silverlink train)

*Aplodo: a traditional sea quest amongst the Ga fishermen of Ghana, which has for

centuries taken them to foreign lands, including the Americas, where some settle and never come back home. This author believes this to be one of the ways many Africans reached other lands, and became mistaken, purposely, by modern historians for slaves.

Heraclitus Arrival in Old San Juan

2010-02-12T11:40:00.000-08:00

Made At Sea short videos of voyages on the R/V Heraclitus

CAPTAIN CLAUS' VOYAGE REPORT OF THE SOUTH ATLANTIC CROSSING

2010-02-01T11:35:00.000-08:00

We had finally arrived in Simons Town on the 10^th of March 2008 after carefully negotiating the infamous east coast of southern Africa, also named wild coast or ship wreck coast for obvious reasons.

Some nasty weather that had hit us when sailing down the Mozambique Channel from Madagascar towards Richards Bay, just south of Mozambique had taught us plenty respect for these waters – an uncomfortable experience but nevertheless an important if not essential lesson, that made us understand what we were dealing with when heading out to sea.

A major overhaul for Heraclitus was overdue and many discussions, dreams, wishes and some fine instinct had finally taken us to the southern shores of Africa. The naval shipyard of Simons Town, located on the western shores of False Bay just 20 miles north of the Cape of Good Hope turned out to be the perfect choice.

The naval shipyard is located within the parameters of the South African Navy’s headquarters. Built over 100 years ago to accommodate almost all sizes of ships, it also reflected the countries intricate history and was set within the breathtaking landscape of False Bay. But most fortunately for us, it was run and kept up with pride by a bunch of very fine and dedicated men of whom many had not only excellent skills but also truly big hearts.

Although we drastically underestimated the work that had to be done and the time it would take us to complete the job, I feel when looking back that we had lucked out and that the decision to repair Heraclitus in South Africa was a very fortunate one.

What first appeared to be just benign curiosity for a strange looking sailing vessel made of ferro-concrete quickly became an attitude of appreciation that generated extraordinary support and incredible generosity for Heraclitus and her crew. We were touched by a humbling sense of brotherhood and real friendship that surpassed our most daring dreams.

The crew was struggling, living the life of a construction worker, hard labor for 6 days of every week in what locals called a real Cape winter. We did most of the work ourselves, but fortunately we were joined by helping hands of old friends that came from afar and of the many new friends we made while in South Africa.

We were given hundreds of pizzas, fishcakes, fresh bread and croissants. We got free tools, scaffolding, wood, gaskets, bolts, screws, sand, cement and magic additives, shackles, paints and ropes and more. To top it all up we found a home just 10 miles away across the beautiful mountains on the Atlantic side of the wind swept Cape Peninsula, surrounded by breathtaking nature and the brilliant company of our hosts, oaks, horses and even a cobra.

In the end the ship had been high and dry from mid April till the beginning of December 2008 and it had taken us over 7 months to complete all repairs.

A near gale was blowing on the day of our launch and the naval harbor master was kind enough to assist with a tug boat and its skillful crew and to safely accommodate Heraclitus right behind one of their Navy’s brand new submarines at one of their finest berths until the rough weather had subsided.

The next 3 weeks we spent alongside, just opposite the yacht club behind an odd looking old ship called Cable Restorer. Now it was all about preparing for the upcoming voyage of over 4000 nautical miles to Brazil. Reinstalling and trouble shooting all of those systems that are an essential part of an ocean going vessel and, most importantly remembering and trying to explain to the new crew what it means to be a sailor.

Being afloat again was refreshing and the prospect of crossing the southern Atlantic on Heraclitus after going through lots of hardship was very exciting.

Many of us got impatient and any further delay of the date of departure was going to put group dynamics to a serious test, but being in the water also meant being back at the mercy of South Africa’s notorious weather patterns.

The Cape of storms lived up to its name and two vicious systems passed through while we were contemplating the right moment to leave.

We put all our fenders out and were secured by over 10 mooring lines to the dock, whilst listening in awe to the ropes creaking and violent gusts singing their terrifying tunes when hauling through our rigging. Having to take good care to not get knocked off ones feet by up to 50 knot winds, reminded us all that caution, respect and humility are crucial advisers when taking out to sea.

On the early morning of the 20^th of December we cast of our lines on a calm and beautiful day, waving good byes to a few faithful friends.

Sailing again on waters home to seals, penguins and great white sharks we rounded the famous Cape of Good Hope around noon. The ocean was sweet and tender, somehow just right and I was grateful for a gentle start, which made our actual trial run less hectic than expected. The fact that the steering compass did not perform at all for the first 24 hours was acceptable when sailing around the Cape in a gentle to moderate breeze.

After rounding the Cape, Heraclitus could still be seen off Scarborough beach on the western peninsula by some of the friends we had made during our stay in Africa .At about sunset not only the coast line but also the signal strength for our mobile phones had faded and we were finally out of reach for good.

We abandoned the idea of sailing close by Cape Town for some last show-off photo opportunities, instead we decided to sail away from shore to keep a safe distance, find the south east trade winds and the Benguela current that would take us north along the west coast of Africa.

The first few days were unusually quiet for these waters before the weather turned back to normal by South African standards. We made good way for almost a week, sailing North West, towards the small island of Santa Helena our only possible stop in the South Atlantic.

We were a crew of 14 - 5 women and 9 men, mostly Europeans but still remarkable in composition with writers, musicians, a professional baker, an electrician, a medical doctor, fire fighters, architects, ocean addicts and even one that had mastered the booty clap.

Heraclitus did well in relatively rough seas and we felt good about what we had done to her during our time in Simon’s town – no leaks after replacing more than 50 square meters of hull and deck was good news. Engine, generator, masts and sails were going strong in winds of up to 30 knots.

We all loved the change in routine, being on different watches, 4 hours on 8 hours off; the fantastic sense of freedom when surrounded by nothing else but the ocean’s blue, the southern sky, the moon, stars and planets and the magic of unobstructed horizons.

Great freedom for the eyes, time to sleep, time to think, to digest the past and for some of us also enough time to overcome even the worst attacks of sea sickness.

Not all went perfect, especially in the middle of the night on the 29^th of December, 400 nautical miles of the coast of Namibia and just 2 days before New Year.

We were sailing in a force 6 when suddenly the mainsail came crushing down on deck with a violent noise. We flicked on the deck flood lights, called all hands on deck and saw to our great surprise that 700 kg of battens, ropes and sail had collapsed but were somehow neatly packed and still held up strongly by the 2 lines that secure the aft boom of the sail – the lazy jacks had not broken, the cloth was not torn, the halyard blocks in one piece and none of us had a scratch. With combined strength we lifted the sail back over the side on top of the roll bar and secured all with plenty lashings – We wondered if after all fortune might just be the most important companion out here.

We decided to drift until dawn, to assess if there was any damage to the top mast during daylight.

It had been the pin of the main halyards shackle that had come undone – the 2 safety wires that are supposed to prevent the screw pin from working its way out from the body of the 1 inch shackle had broken.

We were lucky and had the main halyard re-rigged by the one who had mastered climbing coconut trees on Pacific islands already as a little boy. Heraclitus was under way with all 3 sails up by noon on the same day. It was still over 3000 nautical miles to Brazil.

The Trade winds had left us and we did not make much way for over a week, mostly drifting on a dead calm South Atlantic Ocean. Santa Helena was close and we decided to take the opportunity and feel some Terra-Firma under our feet.

Santa Helena is of volcanic origin, British territory and home to about 4500 refreshingly hospitable islanders. We found good humor, cold beer, many smiles and discovered that what first looked like some huge rock in the middle of the South Atlantic had a very lush and beautiful interior. We truly enjoyed our short stay.

It was only about 300 nm left to go when we approached the northern limits of a massive oil field east of the Brazilian coast. Lots of ships traffic and the surreal glow of huge distant flames lighting up the night sky heralded the vicinity of civilization and a new continent.

We decided to cut across the southern tip of that oil field to save some miles but also in anticipation of the Brazil current which could have taken us of course to the south.

The winds were in our favor and we saw Cabo Frio at 7:29 am on the 15^th of February.

Heraclitus was almost flying and we raced past Rio De Janeiro at night to finally arrive at Baia Ilha Grande in the late afternoon of the 17^th. Upon approach, when heroically trying to free the catch of the day – a box fish, full of poison and not fit for human consumption, from the line that we were trawling, I managed to ram the hook into my own hand and was for a few weeks kindly nicknamed captain Hooked, after being professionally freed from the embarrassment by our lovely ships doctor.

We dropped anchor over night and enjoyed some too expensive but therefore ice cold beer and cigarettes that we got on board with the help of a local who paddled along in his canoe.

Early morning next day when preparing to raise anchor we were approached by a sailing boat and happily surprised when realizing that it was friends that had come to greet us. Brazilian host Manno from Matutu,, Irish Gordon an old fan of Heraclitus came with Luca on his boat Santa Paz to guide us safely through the bay to our new temporary home - Farol De Paraty a fine marina just half a mile across from the old town, just 4 days before the beginning of carnival.

Heraclitus finally arrived in Brazil after traveling the South Atlantic for 60 days – content, satisfied and somehow almost happy and ready for anything we hope...

CAPTAIN CLAUS TOBER

Caribbean Sea

2010-01-30T15:16:00.000-08:00

Island by island, the Caribbean is close and remote at the same time...and how remote and how 'close'...Haiti, Puerto Rico, Miami, Cartagena, Panama....all in one sea, the Caribbean. What a privilege to sail these seas with a Solomon Islander, even to catch as much of a glimpse of how he views things, coming from an ancient Pacific islander culture.

Tortola Island Water, Caribbean

2010-01-30T12:59:00.001-08:00

So much water all around. The water people drink here is desalinated, because there isn't enough well water available on the island. I also saw drinking water dispensers- it's desalinated water that is further processed and sold by the gallon in public dispensing machines.

Just like on the ship- we also drink desalinated water. Since we got a powerful enough desalinator we don't take on drinking water from shore anymore, we produce it ourselves. It made a tremendous difference in the health of the crew, getting less sick with stomach ailments. Back in Tutoia, Brazil local people sailed out to the anchorage to taste our water.

Sometimes we collect rainwater- for washing clothes, and in Itaparica, Salvador we filled a tank with sacred well water. Still now we may have some vintage South Atlantic water left...I like the taste of it, especially after adding a drop of lemon juice.

Here in Tortola

San Juan 1986

2010-01-30T12:17:00.000-08:00

'Around the Tropic World (1983 - 1986) ' Expedition Chief Robert 'Rio' Hahn in 1986, receiving a plaque from, I believe the mayor and governor of San Juan when the Heraclitus pulled into San Juan and docked at pier 1. So long ago, that was 23 years ago. I had just joined the crew of the Heraclitus. Also on the photo is Susanna.

Heraclitus at sea again!

2009-09-07T14:00:00.000-07:00

Heraclitus is 'currently'...riding the swooping currents of the Guyana Current North from Brazil to Trinidad & Tobago. The ship has visited the island of Trinidad 22 years ago.

Serious Navigation

2009-07-23T08:18:00.000-07:00

Arrived in Natal!

2009-07-22T11:45:00.000-07:00

Heraclitus arrived in Natal this morning - we will stay here 4 days to relax after an intense voyage and stock up on food and supplies. Seems like the trip was a month long and not just 9 days...one of those...raining a lot here, enormous sand dunes and it's hot and humid--and friendly as ever like everywhere in Brazil.

Heraclitus passes at slack tide under the Newton Navarro Bridge into the Potengi River. The current builds up to 2-3 knots and the river is not very wide-- a high maintenance anchorage so we are moving on to Maranao, our next destination in Brazil.

Leaving Salvador

2009-07-08T07:35:00.000-07:00

Adventures in Abrolhos - Abre Olhos..Open Eyes....

2009-06-27T14:32:00.000-07:00

Heraclitus leaving mid day Sunday, May 31 from Ilha Grande for Salvador- passing Rio de Janeiro at night- Ipanema and Copacabana beaches only 10nm on port beam. With the binoculars we can even make out the giant flying Jesus. Sailing—good winds. And good speed, having scraped the hull gains us 20-30% speed. Dolphins leave fluorescent trails around the ship, and we can see the glow of the land, the powerful electric charge of cities in the dark, and the warm evening breeze emanating from the earth. We keep in the currents close to the coast, passing between the two capes, Cabo Frio and Cabo Sao Tome and the enormous oilfield off the coast here. The water keeps heating up since we left Parati, from 16 to 26 degrees Celsius.

On June 5^th the Heraclitus is approaching Abrolhos - but are asked by the navy station to wait till mid day to anchor, because Lula da Selva, the Brazilian president is visiting the island. A big navy helicopter intently circles the Heraclitus several times, like a dragon fly about to descend on a sweet flower pad…

Finally we are anchored in the late afternoon, 0.1 nm off the rocks on the South side of St. Barbara Island… about 180 metres - it’s close, but the holding ground is good and the surrounding enormous reef patches keep the ocean swell down.

That Saturday night we all listen to music on deck, it’s very calm. I have a bottle of Portuguese red wine and have a long late night conversation with Eddie about the Solomon Islands. We are watching the full moon standing between the lighthouse and the anchor light of the Heraclitus- From so close you can watch the silent lighthouse performing a magical act every six seconds- out of a bundle of scintillating sparkles it conjures up a golden egg emitting a beam of light that illuminates the dark cliffs for just an instant.

Next morning, too early, the wind picks up from the South, and fast, so we have to change anchorage to the North, the lee side of the island. We raise the anchor chain and motor around St. Barbara, it’s 2.3 knots (4.2 km/h) working hard against the wind but once we get around the corner, we are speeding up to more than double the speed.

The wind keeps picking up to over 30 knots, a near gale. We are told it was the strongest wind of the year here, we are out in the wilderness of the ocean - most of our attention goes into operating the ship again- very different from the 3 months being hooked up to a safe mooring at Farol de Parati, sheltered from storms and theft.

We reanchor, but the ship just keeps rolling heavily even here- the islands are tiny and don’t provide much protection from the ocean swell. St. Barbara is just 0.8nm long (1nm=1.83km) and about 30m tall. There are four more, smaller islands, all of volcanic formation, rugged and with scant vegetation- some palm trees here and there, traditionally planted by visiting sailors, but they look out of place. The main island hosts a small herd of goats, introduced by sailors or fishermen as an easy food source and not knowing about local ecology- the goats were removed from the other islets, which are now declared natural reserves. There is one sea almond left on one of the smaller islands. I wonder though if there ever was a ‘natural’ vegetation of trees and brushes, because the soil is not so rich. Abrolhos was the first marine park of Brazil- a nice young man from Abrolhos National Marine Park accompanied by two navy officers came onboard and told us about it’s abundant turtle population and coral reefs. Also that over 1,000 humpback whales visit the archipelago per year- compared to 5, 000 human visitors. We are just at the beginning of the whale season- so with some luck we may meet them.

On top of the island is the lighthouse, standing 60m above ocean level, visible in clear conditions up to 51nm and flashing every 6 seconds. The navy people on the island are extremely friendly, we ask to see the lighthouse and they show us at dusk. I even get to turn the light on that evening of the 9^th of June. A simple switch…’Flick’… and I shine a torch with a 51 nm radius…. By day the crystals are covered by a curtain all around, to protect the crystals from sunlight. But by night, the crystal head with it’s four beams is turning and turning, one full turn every 24 seconds, and it’s balanced in a bath of mercury. It’s powered by a diesel generator and if that fails, there’s a back up propane set up. The lighthouse was designed by a French company- from Paris… It’s beautiful: significant, simple and functional.

One of the marine conservationists takes us to Isla Redonda. We visit the boobies and walk around the island in half an hour, it’s very very small. The white and brown boobies live here and the black fregatte birds on the next small island. The fregatte birds keep circling over the boobie’s territory. Every now and then they attack and peck at the throat of a flying boobie to make it spit out the fish it just caught.

Training training training – we are not only working and operating and sailing the Heraclitus - we need a crew to move this ship so we have to call and raise the level of knowledge to the point when people know what a halyard, a lazy jack, a wild cat, a course is, how to check the oil level of the main engine, how to produce a dinner for 14…

Every day I turn on the satellite phone at least once to check for messages from Freddy Dempster- he’s analyzing several internet sites specializing on marine weather – and sends us his expertly individualized forecasts.

Now the voyage feels like it is never going to end- we are staying another day in Abrolhos because Freddy’s message told of Northerly winds today and tomorrow, only then possibly turning east and more favorable for us. If we’d motor, we would blow out $200 Dollars a day just to get 80 nm or so ahead. Instead we shall wait a day or two and sail.

We finally depart- the wind picks up on the 13^th earlier than expected, so we raise anchor and sails and swiftly go with a force 5 up to a force 7.

All of the sudden, Salvador is only 3 days away. On the 16^th we approach the entrance to Bahia dos Todos os Santos---we keep our sails up, pushing our course and putting the wind as much as we can astern to make it into the bay. We sail really close by Salvador, between numerous anchored cargo ships, passing towards the island of Itaparica, where a quiet anchorage is waiting for us. After a few days rest we will cross the bay once more for the big city.

Here now. I take in the new latitude, the tropical air, thick and sweet, even at night.

I haven’t been so happily relaxed for a long long time…Bahia here we come.

What guides us...and what we are looking at all night...Heraclitus steering compass

2009-06-18T10:54:00.000-07:00

Abrolhos

2009-06-18T10:53:00.000-07:00

2009-06-18T10:50:00.000-07:00

2009-06-18T10:40:00.000-07:00

Leaving Parati

2009-05-27T07:23:00.000-07:00

The sea is awash with roses O they blow

Upon the land

The still hills fill with their scent

O the hills flow on their sweetness

As on God’s hand

O love, it is so little we know of pleasure

Pleasure that lasts as the snow

But the sea is awash with roses O they blow

Upon the land

By Kenneth Patchen

Early this morning near Angra dos Reis

We got out of Parati- on Thursday May 21- motored to Saco da Velhas, where we had anchored before to take a breath and prepare for the voyage. Every time it seems impossible to leave and separate from friends and places. Then we depart and are on the ocean again- but the longing remains for the distant shores…But Brazil has been a fantastic adventure so far, so many extraordinary individuals have passed thru the Heraclitus since we arrived- I will try and write those stories when we are at sea...

We scraped the hull in 2 days and are almost 2 knots faster. What growth- a layer of barnacles almost a cm thick- the waters here must be full of nutrients. As if you parked your car and grass would grow on your tires after a day…

And now it’s getting to know each other all over again and becoming a crew- half Brazilian, 2 US Americans, a Solomon Islander, a Canadian and 2 Germans- we will be quite an ensemble arriving in Salvador...

This morning... we raised anchor at 0530 heading for Angra dos Reis, to fuel up and get early enough to the market for fresh food- half a ton of food for 12 people for 4 weeks....

We are now waiting for a cold front for a ride pass Cabo Frio- there are strong counter currents so the ship at least needs good winds to move ahead. We are going to stop in Abrolhos- a group of coral islands off this beautiful coast- hoping to catch the whales there---and dive again, fishing...

Small but Sailing

2009-05-26T08:22:00.000-07:00

We are open to any marvellous ideas on how to grow herbs in an extreme moving saltwater environment...

Painting New Eyes to Sea

2009-05-26T08:17:00.000-07:00

Corina del Carmel