The last of the spring Sharav winds are blowing with less intensity and we find ourselves enjoying ideal weather. Clear blue skies, warm sunny days and gentle day breezes prevail. Then last week it rained! As I drifted off to sleep the wind shifted and I was lulled by the patter of raindrops on Yofy's cabin top. Rain is something very special in this region and I lay back overwhelmed with nostalgia for rainy seasons, wet earth and a real downpour. However within five minutes our spring shower was over leaving behind - what else - muddy decks.
People are always asking us when our rainy season begins. The answer is that it never really rains. Eilat's annual average rainfall is only 28 mm or 1.1 inches and much of that is very local. It can be raining on one side of town, while the other side is bone dry. Once in a several years we do get a downpour and then there is massive flooding. City services come to a standstill and residents spend weeks afterwards repairing their roofs.
Lennie's comment on our last blog was so true. As sailors we do need to accept Mother Nature in all her moods. Certainly if there is one thing that we cannot control it is the weather. Manny and I withhold the belief that the beauty of nature comes from our need to just be with what is. Sometimes that can be challenging but it is also the most gratifying of all lessons.
Living aboard a sailboat means living very close to nature. For centuries western civilizations considered the oceans to be the worlds dumping grounds. Today we are all learning the price we must pay for that irresponsible behaviour. Knowing this, Manny and I strive to leave a clean wake and while there are certain things that we cannot change, such as our diesel engine, we do our best to limit our impact on this planet. Many of the projects we worked on aboard Yofy this winter, reflect that philosophy.
Last fall Manny began to build Yofy's alternative energy station. It all began with a stainless pole perched on the starboard section of Yofy's stern. In all innocence, we imagined a delicate structure that would house our wind generator. But before the pole was even installed, Manny began dreaming about adding a solar panel. Then came the Navtex antenna, and (dare I say) TV ariel.
As world fuel prices escalated, Manny's enthusiasm grew and before I knew it he had gone out and bought another solar panel. I must admit that this was a point of contention on board. While I'm all for clean energy, I have begun to feel like Yofy's stern is becoming an electrical generating plant. We are becoming a little stern heavy - a point that becomes clear whenever I bake a cake. I have this awful anxiety that we are slowly becoming one of THOSE live aboard boats. You know... the ones with piles of stuff on deck and hanging off the railings. However, grumble as I may, there is no disputing the joy of pumping out free electrical amps.
One of the biggest contributors to garbage at sea today is plastic. So much of what we buy comes wrapped up in plastic packaging and plastic bags are a real source of pollution. I read recently that between 500 billion and 1 trillion plastic bags are consumed every year and that ten percent of the debris that washes up on the U.S. coastline is plastic bags. Certainly we see many, many plastic bags when at sea. So, we use cloth bags whenever possible and use and reuse what plastic bags we have, but what about plastic water bottles?
Today it is a given that sailors will take onboard crates of bottled water. Who drinks water from their water tanks anymore? Certainly bottled water tastes better and in regions with dicey tap water, bottled water comes as a good viable source of clean drinking water. Apart from the extra cost, the only real objection we have is the plastic garbage.
Onboard Yofy we've been drinking bottled water ever since we installed our new water tanks. Nothing was wrong with the water as Israeli tap water is safe to drink, but for some time the water held a residue fiberglass taste. This winter we got to thinking about cutting back on plastic and began to talk about installing an online filter.
While we were thinking about using our tank water for drinking, we got on to our next project - installing our salt water system. Manny installed a neat salt water tap in the galley and combined with our foot pump, I have estimated a fifty percent savings on fresh water usage.
A few weeks ago, we finally put up our summer sun awnings. They cut down temperatures on board by a least ten degrees. Years ago an Israeli company developed an agricultural screen that is used to shade crops while allowing for a good air flow. The product has become very popular among Israeli sailors and we have used some for side curtains on our cockpit bimini awning. Last year I ordered a few more squares that I can tie off our stays for temporary shade options. Now our shaded cockpit becomes a screened in veranda when the sun is high and come sundown I just roll up the side curtains and fold away the squares. It's an easy, earth friendly alternative to air conditioning for all but the two hottest months of the year.
Manny and I know that we have just begun to explore all the possibilities, yet we already find many long term incentives for leading an eco friendly lifestyle. We gain independence from shore side services and in the long run we find ourselves saving money too. It would seem that once we learn to respect Nature she in turn offers rewards.
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One day in March spring arrived in Eilat. Later that night, I lay in my berth caked in dust and wondering if it was actually possible to feel your body dehydrating. Breathing was uncomfortable. I thought about opening a hatch but I knew that the dust laden winds outside wouldn't offer any relief. Instead I got up, rinsed my face and drank some cool water. Our first Sharav of the season was blowing out with a sand storm.
A Sharav is a hot southerly wind that blows in advance of a low pressure area moving from the Sahara or Arabian deserts. These winds blow far into the Mediterranean, where in Greece they are called Sirocco and in Spain Leveche. Here on the Gulf of Aqaba, prevailing northerlies swing round to the south east as a Sharav arrives bringing hot temperatures and humidity to our normally dry climate. Often these southern winds will quickly die causing calm conditions on the Gulf. As the air mass passes, winds will clock around to the west picking up speed and bringing in hot, dry, dust laden winds. Sometimes the west winds will pass within an hour or two but other times they will blow for hours or even days. Finally relief comes when the winds clock back to the north blowing away the sand and dust allowing us all to enjoy clean air again.
Typically a Sharav wind heralds the coming of spring. So, while Israelis like to officially declare spring in April, we just wait for the first Sharav. This year, sometime around the middle of March a heat wave arrived. One day it was cool and windy, the next it was hot and sticky. In a matter of a few hours temperatures rose 20 degrees and we found ourselves peeling off winter sweats and searching for shorts.
The local weather bureau announced a Sharav and warned us that it was bound to hang around for a few days. Sure enough after a couple of hot days, the dust rolled in like a down east fog and Jordan's mountains disappeared from sight. Shortly everybody's patience began to wear thin. Around day four, I began to feel like I had been breathing into a full vacuum cleaner bag. My eyes burned and itched. My nose felt dry and cracked. My skin grated like parchment.
Explaining the effects of extreme weather conditions to someone who has no familiarity is always a challenge. For example, I often find myself at loose ends trying to explain Canadian winters to somebody who has never experienced freezing temperatures. The film Lawrence of Arabia managed to romanticize sand storms, but what is it really like living through Sharav season?
In an article describing winds of the Mediterranean, Wijke Ruiter writes about the Sirocco. "...the Sirocco also can affect health. The sudden change of temperature and humidity can be very depressing for a lot of people; causing headaches and sleeping problems. The Sirocco mostly occurs during the springtime - from February to July - but also can develop in other times of the year."
During this season, students in my yoga classes complain of sinus infections and headaches. For me the real discomfort lies in my eyes. They itch and burn day after day. At home one afternoon, desperate for relief, I resorted to some natural remedies. Manny returned to find me stretched out with cucumber slices over my eyes and his smart comments haven't stopped yet.
While meteorologists would claim that this area has four seasons, I often declare that there really are only two: windy and hot. Moreover, they change very quickly. No sooner are we breathing a sigh of relief as summer temperatures cool down to balmy days, and then we are piling on sweats and sweaters as temperatures fall, the wind picks up and nights become cold. I find myself asking "What happened to fall?" Here we are experiencing the same thing in reverse. While the weatherman talks of spring, temperatures jump between the high 30's and low twenties as one Sharav after another blows through the region. Each heat wave stays a little longer till we are smack into hot weather.
Living on a sailboat through Sharav season means constant dust control. As soon as the tell tail signs appear we tightly close all west facing ports and hatches. Despite our best efforts to keep the dust out, it is not long before every exposed surface is covered with a fine layer of sand, leaving dinner plates gritty and the cockpit lined with little sand dunes. The first time I found myself vacuuming Yofy's decks I felt nothing short of ridiculous. Yet now Yofy has a shop vac secured on her side deck all through Sharav season. Better to feel a little silly, then to clog all our cockpit drains.
These winds also do a great job at removing varnish from bright work and dulling all painted surfaces. It really is amazing just how much sand they carry. No matter how tightly we cover our mainsail the sand works its way into all the folds. Two weeks ago we watched in amazement at the muddy water that ran off our mainsail as we rinsed it after an afternoon out. Rigging, winches, sheets and halyards all must be washed regularly. Sand is a constant battle.
Mediterranean legend tells that the Sirocco wind had the power to drive people mad and to crimes of passion. This belief often led to the acquittal of those accused of slaying their lover during the intensity of Sirocco. On board Yofy we are being extra gentle with each other. After all these years of working hard to refit Yofy, we would both like to hang around to go sailing.
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04/29/2008 | Lennie (rellwood att bigpond dott net dott au)
Ah!!!!! Mother Nature Robyn! Isn't that what sailing is all about? Not much fun though when you are in the middle of nasty weather. Spare a thought for us here, temps down to -1 tonight and it is still only fall, been suffering this climate for 5 years now, originally from the tropics! Will you get any rain to wash that muck away?
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05/05/2008 | Oren (Oren_Davidoff att yahoo dott com)
It is pronounced "Sharav" and not "Shirav"
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05/11/2008 | Robyn (yofy att canoemail dot com)
Thanks Oren for the correction. I've found it transliterated both ways, but I'm always happy to have my Hebrew corrected!
Lennie, after contemplating this months blog, I have decided I may be whinning...lol. But I'm not the only one... They are complaining in Jerusalem too! http://janglo.jpost.com/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=22782&Itemid=219 |
It is Saturday and Manny and I have chosen to take it easy. Over our morning coffee we did toss about the idea of going sailing, but there's a good wind blowing out on the Gulf today and it all began to seem like a little too much work. Instead we chose to enjoy the mild weather and putter around the boat a bit. Puttering - now there's a job we both do well. Of course after a little puttering an afternoon siesta sounded like just the thing and who was to stop us?
Well no one should have, except no sooner did we drift off than I heard a passerby gently calling my name. At first I thought it was a coincidence, but by the fourth time when the voice raised a decibel or two, I couldn't ignore the truth. Someone wanted me to disengage myself from this lovely state of relaxation and go out and make small talk. By the sound of the voice, I assumed it was one of my students who was taking in a Saturday stroll in the marina. Oh I really didn't feel like getting up. Maybe they would go away. Only now they were clanging something against our bow pulpit and making an awful racket.
Only inches above my head this person who was quickly becoming quite annoying, was now clanging AND knocking on the deck. The noisy crescendo eventually brought a neighbour boater out to his cockpit and a discussion ensued. Well of course now I certainly couldn't get up. What would they think - that I'd been ignoring them? Instead I cowered under the blankets, determined not to surface until dark settled in.
Living aboard a boat is certainly an odd lifestyle. Just about everybody we know wonders when we are going to get over it and move into a house. Often people ask me "Are you STILL living on that boat?" If it is difficult for most people to understand why we live on a boat, then I can only expect them to be a little curious as to how life aboard actually is.
Living aboard a small sailboat in a marina that is surrounded by hotels, in a country that has a fairly short seafaring history, is definitely odd. Perhaps that explains why we frequently feel like we are living in a fish bowl. Within weeks of moving aboard we began to get used to people staring in our cabin ports and it is not unusual for a tourist to attempt to climb on deck for picture taking. A neighbour who lives aboard even had someone walk on board and right into her cabin while she was vacuuming. I'm not quite sure if they were looking for a picture opportunity or not, but she was quite upset.
Sometimes these visitors can be a good source of amusement. On any early summer morning our marina is full of walkers out for their daily exercise. Lying in our berth with the fore hatch open, we overhear the most entertaining conversations. One morning I awoke to the sound of two middle aged men discussing our boat. "Oh it's far too small to go anywhere. They just go fishing." one man explained. It was all I could do, not to pop my head out of the hatch and correct him.
Summer always brings the fishermen. Many mornings upon awakening we open our main hatch only to be greeted by a couple of fishermen seated directly dockside. Sitting comfortably on lawn chairs with a cooler at their side, they don't even acknowledge us. Deep at work with casting rods and bait buckets they sit smug in the knowledge that they've found the best fishing location in town. If I chance to politely inform them that we are sorry but they can't fish here, they look back dumfounded. "Who said YOU can live here?"
Late one night last summer, Manny lost his patience when in the wee hours of the morning a couple strolling back from the pub stopped right in front of our boat to have an argument. After five minutes of listening to their bicker, he climbed out of bed, pulled on some shorts, stomped out on deck and told them to take their argument just a little further along the dock so we could get some sleep. Their stunned silence had me snorting with laughter long after Manny crawled back into our berth.
While strangers can be entertaining, friends and relatives can sometimes be a little trying. Take the time some folks chose to visit us at midnight and caught Manny having a deck shower, or the couple who came to visit with six other friends on a cold winter night. Company is nice but trying to squeeze eight guests into a 30 foot boat cabin is only done when inebriated. Anyhow we don't have enough coffee mugs.
We are learning to accept that for most people our dockside lifestyle is as entertaining as any other tourist attraction. Then just as we are getting that figured out, we get a phone call from a disgruntled caller. "We came all the way down to Eilat and dropped by to visit you, but your boat wasn't there!"
Yes we were gone....sailing!
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04/09/2008 | Lennie (rellwood att bigpond dott net dott au)
Hi Robyn and Manny, Great to read your latest article. I find where you are must be a very fascinating part of the world, I hope to get there one day, of course in a sail boat! Keep my dream alive with your stories. All the best, Cheers.
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04/11/2008 | Robyn (yofy att canoemail dot com )
Lennie, I really do hope you sail here one day. Maybe we'll pass each other somewhere in the Indian Ocean? Ya gotta dream!
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06/10/2008 | Clint Glenny (svkairos att mac dott com)
Hi, I was reading your blog it is great. We are headed to Tahiti from Hawaii and are thinking of coming up to the Gulf of Aqaba. Is there moorings or slips in marinas there. We have no information and need all the help we can get. Please email us at svkairos@mac.com
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06/18/2008 | Robyn Coulter (yofy att canoemail dott com)
Thanks forthe comment Clint Glenny! I've sent you an email today. Fair winds and a great landfall in Tahiti.
Robyn |
