S.V Condesa Del Mar

23 meter Herrishoff Schooner built in Wilmington Boat Yard California 1970 onwards. Fittout completed mid 1990's. Mark and Jenny Gaskell purchased Conmdesa November 2011 and crossed the Pacific Ocean in 2012.

25 July 2015 | The Yard Brisbane Ship Lifts Murarrie
01 September 2014 | Nara Inlet
01 September 2014 | Nara Inlet
15 August 2014 | Lady Musgrave Island
11 July 2014 | Middle Percy Island
30 December 2013 | Southport Gold Coast
15 December 2013 | Brisbane River
17 September 2013 | Brisbane River
28 July 2013 | Bundaberg to Brisbane Sail
28 July 2013 | Bundaberg to Brisbane
06 May 2013 | Brisbane Australia
23 April 2013 | Brisbane Australia
10 March 2013 | Brisbane Australia
21 February 2013 | Brisbane Australia
12 February 2013 | Brisbane Australia
31 January 2013 | Brisbane Australia
07 January 2013 | Rivergate Marina
06 December 2012 | Rivergate Marina
11 November 2012 | Pacific Ocean
02 November 2012 | Brisbane Australia

Doing the Hard Yards

25 July 2015 | The Yard Brisbane Ship Lifts Murarrie
Jennyg
Anti-fouling Condesa on the hard stand.

'The Yard' is the work-place in the Brisbane River for boats to be lifted out of the water. A dry dock where you can anti-foul several coats of thick black paint below the water line, replace all bollards and safety lines around upper deck, put on a new prop and reset the shaft, remove and fix a gear box, replace anchor plates, finish the bright work, sikaflex everywhere you see fit, buff and polish your paintwork above the waterline, cut back the portholes buff and make them gleam like never before! And just in case that is not enough to complete in the estimated time of seven days, let's add some gale forced westerly winds that near blow you from the top decks while you are perched high above the concrete attending to the above list.
Whilst it wasn't cocktails and sunsets.... it wasn't all doom and gloom except when sourcing parts for the 1960's gear box parts that had us stay elevated clinging on for our lives for another four days in a true blizzard. Brisbane only winter is a cutting westerly that sliced through 8 layers of clothing and that was in the full sunshine.
On the upside we had an experienced super yacht worker Lawrence who, like Mark ignored the 5 degree temperature and diligently went from one job to another knowing that the days of the week disappear like time travel whilst in a dry dock.
I was chilly inside the boat even with the oven going and heater on so I'd hauled the boys in for hot coffee alternating the breaks with a hearty soup allowing for some defrosting of fingers before they would brave it again. I at least had the option to find a nook behind the shed away from the wind where the sun tried its best to give warmth so I could continue to strip the old varnish off the louvered doors (that I wish I had never started).
All appeared to be on track after we extended an extra 4 days to complete the work, I continued running to mum and dad's place to seep and for some of the same warmth and support that I tried to bestow on the windswept and lip cracked workers back at the yard.
Finally our gear box was back together and Mitch kindly worked through the night with Mark to fit it back where it belonged (only a son or someone you paid mega bucks would do this). This operation required a halyard to act as a hoist to lift the heavy engine part high above the boat and drop it into place. I feared it may squash them like ants should anything go wrong so I stayed to oversee the procedure and lend a hand where possible (or call 000 if needed) and finally to make hot chocolates when it was completed.
The next day where we were set to be lifted back into the water only to find the westerly winds had another 4-5 more knots to blow. Condesa shuddered on her concrete blocks having the staff bring the cradle and slings over to support her, She being the only boat left in the yard waiting to be put back in the Brisbane River that day. The lift was cancelled due to the high winds, we were disappointed but still had plenty of varnishing and other jobs to complete so we spend another 24 hours finishing up.
Saturday in the yard was like a ghost town, the wind had dropped there was no work happening around the usually active yard, until the manager, his dog and little support team kindly turned up.
He single handily (with the help of his dog) operated the lift to launch us back into the river knowing we were overdue to get going.
We tested our reverse and forward once that was confirmed as working we headed on our merry way north for warmer weather. Cheers to our parents and Ben at The Yard you were the shining light in a week of hard knocks.
Ps I should have stowed that dog away on Condesa -he was a cracker.

ps the image was teh first day before the winds got up so don't be fooled by the shorts and t'shirts

Free Gifts along the way

01 September 2014 | Nara Inlet
So now we can tick the blue waters of Hamilton Island Race Week! What an awesome experience where the island and all of the staff added to the beauty as much as the race courses around the Whitsunday Islands. There have been so many treasures along the way I couldn’t begin to do justice in a story. Memories of those incredible whales and dolphins that joined our venture, the fresh tuna and massive sweet mud crabs that were caught and shared, the underwater coral discoveries, the schools of fish that swam with us in the thousands, the massive groper who let us pat and feed him, the trillions of butterflies that surrounded us as we walked the islands. There are the friends (furry and human) that we have made both on and off the water, kindred spirits of the older classic boats that were moored side by side. The nights we became part of the band aboard the 1930’s Pearl Lugger creating camaraderie during those post race hours. He who hums toe tapping and hip slapping the shakers in time with the tambourine I played and the songs we sang as if we had heard them all before. The unexpected invitations to dinner, drinks and events from people we had only just met. The pomp ceremony, colour and experienced of the other 178 yachts that raced in all of their glory speed and skill on the water who cocooned us every day in the bustle and fluster of getting to the start line for our own category start. The memories of their lightweight sails flicking and whisking across our vision close enough for me to almost touch and the remarkable moments where He who hums and I were in absolute sync and tacked like we knew what we were doing in time with all others on the course was exhilarating stuff!
However there was a small but significant moment in time during this trip that I will never forget. We had sailed many nights and have anchored in many islands, inlets and marinas that have been memorable for one reason or another. We have had peaceful nights of sleep as well as some not so perfect anchorages of restless waters where “bullets” of wind escalate as they run over the hills and through the valleys of the islands that tried to take us for the ride.
The one night in the deep valley of Nara Inlet (Whitsunday Islands) we were surrounded by the sheer cliffs of true blue Australian bush-land mixed with tall wooded areas of dark green pine trees. We had trekked to the caves that were up in the hills and enjoyed the aboriginal art from hundreds of years ago. The waters were glassy and stilled and we knew were in for a magnificent night of peaceful sleep. With all of our experiences we had learnt to check any item that was a chance to move, shake rattle or roll and so lines were secured and tied off so as not to “ting” against the mast when the wind lifted during our sleeping hours. There was one slight movement of our boat that night that found a minuscule squeak as the davit hardware moved a millimeter back and forth and it was just enough to be heard in the deafening silence and was not letting up. I took it upon myself to attend to this one as he who hums clearly could not hear it for his own deep sounds of slumber. Besides I think I owed him a few night checks anyway.
I climbed up out of our cabin to the wheelhouse and carefully stepped out on to the back fishing platform and into the dark of night. As I reached out to catch the small but squeaky culprit I saw something I could never have imagined in all of my wildest dreams. The zillions of stars hung like LED lights in the night sky and in direct reflection to the stars were just as many Bioluminescences that lit up the deep narrow and dark inlet waters. I was spellbound by the luminous green of living plankton that surrounded not only our boat but others and for as far as I could see. I was standing alone in the void totally spellbound with the beauty of nature’s incredible Phosphorescence gift. It was such a delicacy I dared not wake He who may not appreciate “it” or being woken. So I savored it all to myself for I did not want to taint the moment with words or actions.
I headed back to bed with that vision seared into my memory, a gift from heaven that I added to the list of wonders that this planet offers us.

Free Gifts along the way

01 September 2014 | Nara Inlet
So now we can tick the blue waters of Hamilton Island Race Week! What an awesome experience where the island and all of the staff added to the beauty as much as the race courses around the Whitsunday Islands. There have been so many treasures along the way I couldn’t begin to do justice in a story. Memories of those incredible whales and dolphins that joined our venture, the fresh tuna and massive sweet mud crabs that were caught and shared, the underwater coral discoveries, the schools of fish that swam with us in the thousands, the massive groper who let us pat and feed him, the trillions of butterflies that surrounded us as we walked the islands. There are the friends (furry and human) that we have made both on and off the water, kindred spirits of the older classic boats that were moored side by side. The nights we became part of the band aboard the 1930’s Pearl Lugger creating camaraderie during those post race hours. He who hums toe tapping and hip slapping the shakers in time with the tambourine I played and the songs we sang as if we had heard them all before. The unexpected invitations to dinner, drinks and events from people we had only just met. The pomp ceremony, colour and experienced of the other 178 yachts that raced in all of their glory speed and skill on the water who cocooned us every day in the bustle and fluster of getting to the start line for our own category start. The memories of their lightweight sails flicking and whisking across our vision close enough for me to almost touch and the remarkable moments where He who hums and I were in absolute sync and tacked like we knew what we were doing in time with all others on the course was exhilarating stuff!
However there was a small but significant moment in time during this trip that I will never forget. We had sailed many nights and have anchored in many islands, inlets and marinas that have been memorable for one reason or another. We have had peaceful nights of sleep as well as some not so perfect anchorages of restless waters where “bullets” of wind escalate as they run over the hills and through the valleys of the islands that tried to take us for the ride.
The one night in the deep valley of Nara Inlet (Whitsunday Islands) we were surrounded by the sheer cliffs of true blue Australian bush-land mixed with tall wooded areas of dark green pine trees. We had trekked to the caves that were up in the hills and enjoyed the aboriginal art from hundreds of years ago. The waters were glassy and stilled and we knew were in for a magnificent night of peaceful sleep. With all of our experiences we had learnt to check any item that was a chance to move, shake rattle or roll and so lines were secured and tied off so as not to “ting” against the mast when the wind lifted during our sleeping hours. There was one slight movement of our boat that night that found a minuscule squeak as the davit hardware moved a millimeter back and forth and it was just enough to be heard in the deafening silence and was not letting up. I took it upon myself to attend to this one as he who hums clearly could not hear it for his own deep sounds of slumber. Besides I think I owed him a few night checks anyway.
I climbed up out of our cabin to the wheelhouse and carefully stepped out on to the back fishing platform and into the dark of night. As I reached out to catch the small but squeaky culprit I saw something I could never have imagined in all of my wildest dreams. The zillions of stars hung like LED lights in the night sky and in direct reflection to the stars were just as many Bioluminescences that lit up the deep narrow and dark inlet waters. I was spellbound by the luminous green of living plankton that surrounded not only our boat but others and for as far as I could see. I was standing alone in the void totally spellbound with the beauty of nature’s incredible Phosphorescence gift. It was such a delicacy I dared not wake He who may not appreciate “it” or being woken. So I savored it all to myself for I did not want to taint the moment with words or actions.
I headed back to bed with that vision seared into my memory, a gift from heaven that I added to the list of wonders that this planet offers us.

A Dog of a Day

15 August 2014 | Lady Musgrave Island
Jennyg
A Dog of a Day
You meet some characters out here among the islands. There are people from all walks of life, both living on and visiting islands of the Great Barrier Reef. It wasn't until we reached the Percy Islands that we met someone really special. She was young and pretty and she lived out there in absolute island bliss doing what she loved and what she was good at. The family lived on the homestead at the peak of Percy Island overlooking the bay in which we arrived. They were self reliant (or isolated) city folk would say. It was a place where you harvested your own chemical free fruits and vegetables. It was place where chickens roamed around your ankles and the washing machine was out in the sunshine doing its thing. There were goats and kids in a paddock, so warm milk on tap and there were goats in the rough for eating. I suspected fresh meat was more of an ordeal to plate up, however and invitation was extended to us for a beach BBQ, anytime! We just had to give them enough time to hunt a goat down in the wild and "prepare" it.
On day one we had trekked up the Northern path of their island that was alive with aqua butterflies that led us uphill to the homestead. Not long after our arrival we were invited in for chilled homemade lemonade (the best we had ever tasted).
On day two we followed their "just follow the creek bed" instructions to trek to the homestead from White's bay, the Southern anchorage.Our expected one hour walk turned into two hours with some serious rock climbing added. Eventually we were back in the internet zone of the homestead and after many stories, laughs and more chilled lemonade had we were handed a bag of fresh passion fruit. Our day had gotten away with the wrong turn we took coming up. So as soon as we were refreshed enough we decided to tackle the return trip. The lease holders of the island insisted that someone could lead us (the right way) back to White's Bay. We felt bad, as it was a good hour trek back (if you didn't get lost that is) and the walk was not a garden path, it was mountainous. Young Bronte was loitering and eager to be asked she pleaded with her big brown eyes until she was given the nod to go. The only instructions given was that she was to holler as soon as she returned so they knew she was home. We were so grateful we thanked Bronte, as clearly we needed the local knowledge. The mother in me would not have let her go, knowing she had to come back up the mountain alone at dusk. However, we headed off through the two gates that kept the menagerie of goats, cooks and dogs separate and followed our young and happy guide. She set off with a good steady pace and she wove her way into the woods. I didn't complain but the thick wild scrub scratched my legs yet it didn't seem to bother her, she skipped happily over and around the worst of the stumps and shrubs. When she sensed we were lagging she would stop. We noticed the markers that discretely hung in the trees but you needed to know where to look and turn in order to spot them. She smiled at us each time we stopped to admire the different hand painted faces as if she knew we were stalling to catch our breath. She knew there was no time to beat around the bush and so kept us on track ducking and weaving through the typical Australian bush land. She knew it like the back of her hand and was on her merry way taking turns without markers that I felt were wrong as we stumbled to keep her in sight. Then she came to a halt at the top of the clearing where we could see our bay and boat below. She had been such awesome help we then asked her to point us to the safest way down. Before we knew it she was over the edge and half way down to the beach. She waded in the shallows to cool off while we tended to our dingy that was high and dry.
We thanked Bronte profusely for her help as we hung on the beach to enjoy some biscuits and a cool drink. She was so sweet; she barely looked our way as she stood to drip off in the last of the afternoon sun. She timidly accepted the sweet biscuits offered like it was the right thing to do. She refused my bottle of boat water; probably their tank water was more pure. A part of me wished she could have come with us. She sensed my emotion and turned away.
She started her walk up the beach as soon as we said "Well! Your job is done Bronte Goodbye". She headed for the dry creek bed and didn't look back once. We waited and watched and hoped she would be alright. Soon she was nothing but small brown spec alone in the hills. We had fallen in love with that brown Labrador - What a great mutt; she came all that way not expecting a thing except a swim. It only took one bark at the garden gate to get her back into the confines of homestead where she would join "Diamond" (part dingo) for a meal of fresh roo. I wondered what tomorrow would bring, probably more of the same, fresh air and sunshine, swimming, trekking and more new friends.

Whale of a Time

11 July 2014 | Middle Percy Island
Jennyg
The saying 'Whale of a time'- I have never really thought much about the phrase until we were out in ocean sailing along with these beautiful big mammals who were also moving themselves slowly into warmer waters. They have performed on cue daily making sure we see their joy as we drift our way up the east coast of Queensland too.
As soon as we had cleared Tangalooma and headed for Lady Musgrave we were entertained daily by them.
It was obvious that they were having a "whale of a time". One whale in particular chose to do head stands and hold his tale out of the water for some time. Despite my lame focus with the camera he had actually had given me enough time to focus first and then shoot. Unfortunately, my excitement along with the movement of the boat blurred my pics. His migrating buddy at the time chose to slap the water over and over possibly in hysterical laughter while Mr Headstand continued to perfect his synchronized position just for us. Once we had passed his location they sunk deep into the ocean and continued their journey north.

The days of "winter" out here are far from the chill we hear has hit Brisbane. The skies are crystal clear and the waters are perfect temperature for swimming (sorry anyone south of here). When He Who Hums said to me that we might overnight at "Pearl Bay" it too conjured up visions of loveliness, and it was! The clear teal waters, the rough pinnacles of craggy rocks with emerald pine trees that grew tall withstanding the trade winds that constantly blow in from the south east and that have flattened the surrounding shrubs. The small islands dotted within Pearl Bay were quite the get-away. I spotted sunny caves as we approached and felt one could take up residence here and live life simply. I thought it the perfect place to lose the tax man should you be thinking that way at this time of year. We landed our dingy on the sandy shores of the small Treasure Island that sat opposite Pearl Bay. As we hauled the dingy up the beach I was shocked to see footprints both large and small in the sand. Whilst they appeared to look human I wondered if the squealing I had heard was in fact bird calling or had a recluse family who had beaten me to living within the scenic rocky cliffs. I peered skyward contemplating our planned climb as that was the only option. If they had hairy bodies I was out of there!
He Who Hums scampered to the top and engulfed the magic of his own discovery. Well, he's no Edmund Hillary but there he was beating his chest (OK, that was his heart rate). When I made it to his side I could see why. Far below we could see the depths of a turtle haven and a few short steps across to the other side of the crested mound the sun glittered across the waters with Condesa just a silhouette with the shimmer on the water.
The return trip back down the steep cliff face needed our total attention as to not lose our footing. I wanted to look at massive eagle that needed to feed her complaining chicks. She swooped down and caught - not one, but two fish in her big claws first go! She dropped one as she sped back to home base to the hungry nesters. Somehow I felt she achieved her review of the fish just by feel and dropped the lesser of the two on purpose. As for us, we too were headed home for dinner with the hope that our trawling behind the dingy back might land us something equally large and fresh. We are never really disappointed when we reel in the coloured lure with nothing to show. Firstly we hate to kill when the freezer is still choc a block of meals and secondly - filleting.......well that is all that needs to be said. Even though fishing is a sport it is not one He Who Hums is known for. Oh but yes he has many fishing tale of he and his dad's prowess's from yesteryear. I am beginning to wonder if they might have been told to lure me as I have not seen any haul as yet. Let's just say when it comes time to knock one of God's creatures on the head we prefer to lose the fight. The day will come when we need to catch us a sweet Spanish Mackerel for dinner the thought is not too far away. We have logged Tangalooma to Lady Musgrave; Roslyn Bay to Great Keppel and now we can tick Pearl Bay to Huxem to The Middle Percy's and now in wifi land Mackay. Day hops from here to the Whitsundays should return us to a normal sleeping pattern but we are having a whale of a time so the rough nights are par for the course.
Condesa loves the Queensland coastline, the two of us back enjoying our roles onboard the "working" vessel. The discovery of the outer islands is being achieved along the way both of us are stunned at the beauty right on our doorstep every day.

Question

30 December 2013 | Southport Gold Coast
Jennyg
There it was!!!! After many hours of sailing out of the Brisbane River headed for the Gold Coast for our Christmas break, finally I looked up and saw the vastness, the void, the place where you can see for miles and miles and barely make out where the horizon meets the sea. I LOVE IT. Yes, this is where the ocean is an indescribable blue. A beautiful deep blue, rich .... that on-trend colour of violet that suits everybody.
And along with that visual spectacular is the silence that reins except for the swoosh of the water rushing past the hull. The sails are set firmly in place, held by the powerful 25knot breeze blowing perfectly from the north-west as predicted. There was nothing that needed to be said. Comfort, pleasure, and concentration blend into one to set the mood on top deck. It is a mystery to me, this yearning for the motion and unmeasurable power of the water that somehow makes us feel complete.
Is it... like a hobby, is it a passion from a past life. Are you born with it and somehow directed to find it. I wonder about that mesmeric force that has drawn me in. Why I do not fear the pitch blackness of night when it is there to be feared. Why is my reaction never one peppered with terror or panic when moments of trouble come our way? To me, it always feels like there are a myriad of solutions to a problem. What the answers are I can’t tell you, but in those critical seconds it seems I am not left stranded. It is weird and I cannot explain it even to myself but calmness is there that normally shouldn’t be in these types of circumstances.
You see, no one ever wants to hear of a problem when approaching the Gold Coast seaway where there is surf on one side, a rock wall on the other and an evil undercurrent that is certain to defy the ways of the running tide in the sightless dark of night. Steering control is imperative, (as you can well imagine) as you stare into the black hole that is according to our calculations should be the entrance to the Gold Coast seaway. Diligently we all on our own silent lookout, continued to try to identify the safe path to take.
The beauty of the twinkling lights in the far distance marking the tourist strip of Surfers Paradise and beyond were instantly abolished in that decisive moment in time. He who’s hum was silenced - but I could see his mind moved into high res mode to analyse the dia circumstance. Think! – What to do before he announces what you suspect. We were literally one to two minutes from the entrance and we had the need to make the turn directly into the seaway in order to line-up the two bright blue marker lights that have only just become apparent and stand to lead the way. I support immediately, my brainwaves kicking in like an electrical current has paved the way to deliver a few valid questions. There is a saying that no question is a dumb one, but my recommendation in moments like these, is that you chose your words very wisely as I am positive there are questions that could have you bobbing hopelessly like a man overboard. Just seconds before this happened I remembered hearing the subtle dry groan of what I thought was the gear box letting us know that, Yes you got it, may need attention! The kind of ‘lift the hatch to the motor and add oil, scenario!’ OK that can happen.... but jeeze Murphy I immediately thought to myself - your timing stinks. Then he, the humless hummer at the helm asks for the autopilot button to be hit. I jump to action as it was a better option than my timewaster ideas. But I can’t read the buttons can I - (bloody failing night time eyesight) and turn for aid. Left or right red button? Got it left! The split second instruction ricochets back to me to, now return it to “standby mode” – right button ...yes ...right... firm push tick! I think to myself that he might just be onto something and less than half a minute has passed since dread hit him. Silently the rock wall, surf and narrow entrance are just there, a mere stone’s throw away. Just spying, hiding in the dark, awaiting one wrong move.
Not so. With the accurate button hitting it became apparent that he who can hum again was ‘steering-not-really’ prior to this. As the autopilot button was still ON. He who hums more in the sunlight hours thought he was the one guiding Condesa alongside of south Stradbroke Island for the past 15 minutes. After all, his hands were on the wheel. It was only when he went to action that turn did he note that the only response he was getting was from his heart hammering his chest instead of the boat turning to starboard.
However there we now were.... cautiously gliding through the notorious seaway. Right on target with those minimal blue marker lights that were vital and the blackness that was the way through to the Broadwater for us.
Although the flat seas around did not fool us like the autopilot did. The one thing we do know is that a seaway is always to be handled with the ultimate suspicion.
So back in that fleeting moment of concern, my thought was to just keep sailing in a straight line that would take us to the pretty twinkling distant lights of the Gold Coast. See that was one of those random easy solutions I had that was appealing and easy. It is one of those suggestions I spoke about before that you ever so wisely keep to yourself..... until all else has failed.
Love it, love it, love it the challenge we put ourselves through of all those “S” words...like Solving, Solutions, Surviving, Sailing, Submerging Sinking or Swimming. I think it is in all of us and we use it when we need to and surprise ourselves with what we are capable of when Murphy plays tricks on you when you least expect it.
If anyone has worked out how this happens feel free to respond so I can stop wondering. Thanks





How Time Flies

15 December 2013 | Brisbane River
jennyg
We have eventually settled into our life on the Brisbane River with jobs, cars, sport and weekend fun all making up the weeks that created 2013.
We momentarily got to become land dwellers for a couple of weeks this year to help care for our nephews with a school routine that was almost foreign to us now as our boys are well and truly independent. So independent now, that we got to bask in pride as one of them got engaged to his love.
When we got back to Condesa the familiar smell of timber interior and our home filled the air. A stiff breeze rushed through the cabins as the hatches were lifted and rays of sunlight lit the silverware and glassware that made my life shine even more. Yes the ducks were waited patiently for a feed of bread and as for our big pelican he had given up on us for a while but soon returned to keep an eye on the comings and goings. The little herb garden given to me for mother's day has survived with the many storms that have graced us this year. We have rolled with the punches. People ask me what I do in a storm I suspect they see me crawling into an air lock down below to wait out the thunder and lightning. I advise that I shut the windows just as they do and possibly watch a movie in the lounge. However after our home stay I did note I walked into the walls for the first time in over a year... a reminder that our home is on the water.
Yes a year GONE! And we can no longer say we have just got home. As I reflect on the year that has passed it pales in significance in terms of adventure to the year prior but has been filled with surprises and moments that create our family life that is precious to us.
What do we want from life - health, happiness and love? Really put simply that is enough to sustain us and make us grow, develop and learn. I find I am surprised at the lessons still learned at our age. As school leavers we think we've "learned" all we need to go forth in the world, and that is the magical age where we stomp confidently along our merry way unaware of anything that is happening around us.
It is interesting to reflect on 2013 that has flown by so quickly. And I confess I tried to cling on to that beautiful remoteness of our adventure that was ours, for way too long. Where we lived each day for our own safety and trod carefully into unknown waters, respecting every carefree day given to us. Whilst we were acutely aware of our surroundings that could instantly change we would also be relaxed and laughing heading to our mapped waypoints allowing life to happen, achieving what we could with time and weather we had.
This year just gone had created an awareness of a different kind. I was more observant to the people around me and the way they navigated and managed their lives. Some enjoying every second, some people just doing the motions, some wrestling with personal situations, some celebrating milestones, some beginning their own adventure, some elated at finishing studies and others afraid to start anew. It has made my days fuller, watching the diverse paths we are all walking yet leading to the same place. And that place we all want is inner happiness. The real happiness in people are those who power along not allowing anything or anyone negative filtrate their focus. I really missed that intent focus and goal that we shared on our journey. It took a few months to let go of the freedom and to buy back into city living rituals, the everyday schedule of commitments that kept you going as opposed to the natural rhythm and achievements out at sea.
When lightning strikes we get a wakeup call. Up and at it... fight or flight. Don't miss a day thinking that beauty is elsewhere. Reality checks us. It was the trill of the single bird in a tree nearly that got my attention. He is not calling to anyone else he is singing for himself. He starts at dark fall and he trills into the wee hours of the morning. He will drop by in the morning and perch on our rail and give one beautiful melodious chorus and before I can get up to see him, he has flown. I haven't seen what he is like I suspect a black and white Willie wag tail but regardless the message is clear. Take hold of every day and make a harmony of your own before another year flies by.
Vessel Name: La Condesa Del Mar
Vessel Make/Model: Herreshoff Schooner 73 ft
Hailing Port: Southport Brisbane Australia
Crew: Mark & Jenny Gaskell
About:
Boat and water lovers from the east coast of Queensland. Both Mark and Jenny enjoyed an upbringing holidaying on the beautiful beaches of the Gold Coast where the smell of the ocean is ingrained at a young age. The passion grew with each vessel large and small over the years. [...]
Extra: Having conquered the east coast of Queensland Australia the biggest challenge and adventure was crossing the Pacific ocean in 2012 just months after purchasing. Leaving La Paz Mexico in March 2012 reaching for Australian waters October 2012. We love the simplicity and beauty of being live-aboards.
Home Page: http://www.sailblogs.com/member/svcondesa
Social:
La Condesa Del Mar's Photos - Main
The surprise week with the kids in Musket Cove
38 Photos
Created 18 September 2012
Throughout Fiji Islands
20 Photos
Created 12 September 2012
Our Puddle Jump Celebrations on Moorea Island
20 Photos
Created 12 September 2012
Discovering Tahiti and family come to visit Condesa
20 Photos
Created 3 September 2012
This little escapade was one of my favorites maybe it was the great company we had
16 Photos
Created 30 August 2012
This is the river discovery as inthe blog Free Falling
19 Photos
Created 30 August 2012
Our stint in the remote beauty of Suwarrow
26 Photos
Created 30 August 2012
Our trek deep into the Cascades on Nuku Hiva
20 Photos
Created 18 June 2012
21 days at sea
22 Photos
Created 18 June 2012
Day 21 onwards !
3 Photos
Created 14 May 2012
Here are files of photos from purchase to preparation for the Puddle Jump
20 Photos
Created 12 April 2012
Captured as we worked
28 Photos
Created 12 April 2012
Our 6 weeks in La PAz we have has a ball and celebrated with the locals and the fleet. We have worked hard and will reep the rewards at sea.
22 Photos
Created 11 April 2012
When out and about I snapped a few styles of homes and buildings - enjoy
26 Photos
Created 4 April 2012
The word "carnaval". The general consensus is that it evolved during the middle ages, as part of the Roman Catholic ritual of lent. I hear it concludes on 'Fat Tuesday'???
20 Photos
Created 16 March 2012
The journey south from Guaymas to La Paz
20 Photos
Created 16 March 2012
From Day 1 - Day 7 The preparation to launch La Condesa Del Mar to sail the Sea of Cortez
18 Photos
Created 4 January 2012