Welcome Aboard! •
Welkom Aan Boord! •
¡Bienvenido Abordo!
Speaking of global warming… (and everyone should be speaking about it, constantly): What a difference 10 degrees makes! This time last year Tierra del Fuego was buried under a foot of snow. Last winter, in June, we set off to sail from Puerto Williams to Wulaia; and before we went, we had to spend more than an hour unfreezing the mooring lines. Each knot in each line was cast as if in iron. You could pick up a warp and…
Several times over the course of the past year I’ve made reference to the Micalvi, and if you’ve been paying attention, O’ Best Beloved, you will have gathered that it’s the name of the place where we moor in Puerto Williams. You could be forgiven for thinking that Micalvi is just another of the irrelevant appellations which have been attached to this region. The Straits of Magellan, Monte Sarmiento, Adventure Bay, the Beagle Channel… these places were named for the…
We’ve just realised that despite having arrived more than a year ago in this neck of the woods we’ve never told you much about our latest HQ, Puerto Williams. Today the sunrise was golden, and the ground sparkled. The still waters of the creek were marbled with the colours of brightly painted yachts. It’s true that the nip in the air froze my fingers so that after five minutes I could no longer work the shutter button on the camera……
Three quarters of Mollymawk‘s crew have just returned from a flying visit to our homeland. Flying is something that we don’t like to do – partly for reasons of financial expense, and partly because of the cost in environmental terms – but Roxanne had decided that it was time she explored the possibilities of living full time in the land where she was born; and I, simultaneously, felt that it was time I saw my parents again. Of course, the…
It’s time I told you about our Mullion oilskins. A couple of years ago we were singing the praises of Decathlon’s cheap and cheerful breathable oilskin jackets; and we still reckon that those oilies are far better value for money than the leading name brands. But we’ve now come across something which knocks them into a corner. Credit for the discovery of this new brand of oilies goes to an Irish sailor who contacted us after reading about our journey…
This article was written by our Brazilian friend, Gean Monteiro. Gean has spent many months sailing aboard Mollymawk over the course of the past five years. In fact, it’s high time we got round to giving him a place on our Crew page. I’ve often suggested that he might like to put together some words which describe our adventures together. What I wasn’t expecting was something which would make us blush to the tips of our toes…!
1 2 3 4 Day Four of our six day cruise in the Beagle Channel was spent anchored alongside Polarwind. In fact, by the time we had run back down the fiord from the glacier, on the previous evening, there was already another little charter yacht moored to Polarwind‘s other side – so, in fact there were three of us snugged away in the cove, all set to ride out the storm which was forecast to come our way on…
1 2 3 4 Day Two – and the forecast showed a strong headwind pumping down the Beagle Canal. Glad to have the chance to set some sail and to show our guests how a boat is really supposed to travel, we set forth from our night’s refuge at first light. Oswaldo had planned on leaving at the same hour, but when we weighed anchor there was no sign of life aboard Polarwind. Even before we left the shelter of…
1 2 3 4 The plane is landing. And I’m still tidying the cabin. I grab my wellies and pull them on; we leap into the dinghy, and Nick pulls hard on the oars. The creek is just 100 yards wide, but Puerto Williams airport is one of the smallest in the world. By the time we’ve landed and I’ve scrambled up the bank, the last of the passengers has already climbed out of the Twin Otter and is walking…
Ever since I first heard the Buddha’s teachings, some three and a half years ago, I’ve fantasised about the idea of taking a couple of monks sailing. The Buddha and his monks and nuns dwelt in the forests of northern India, and the branch of Buddhism which resonates with me is the one which sticks closest to the life which he advocated: a life verging on the ascetic, with the monastic members of the community still camping out in huts…