#sailingvessel

[erebus-x-adventure]

Petit souvenir de Zanzibar et ses eaux incroyables. 😍 Pour ceux qui ne nous connaissent pas encore : on se présente en vidéo 😁 👇👇👇👇👇 https://youtu.be/32t8PLbIpDk Aussi disponible en description de profil pour Instagram. #zanzibar #pangeisland#travellife #voyageenbateau #voyageenfamille #nomadlife #nomad #voyagenomade #sailingaroundtheworld #sailingtour #sailboats #ketch #ketchyacht #sailingvessel #sailingyacht #sailingketch https://www.instagram.com/p/Cj3jUnqLeG9/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[sandyhookhistory]

Eighty Years Ago, Today - (Thursday) February 11th, 1943: 11 miles south of Cape St. Francis, South Africa, U-516 (Type IXC) torpedoes and sinks the British steamer "SS Helmspey" (Photo 1). Tea, rubber, and precious manganese iron ore go with her to the bottom. Four men are killed, and a fifth dies after rescue, with 41 Survivors. Meanwhile, in the Mediterranean, 29 miles east of Protaras, Cyprus, U-81, a Type VIIC (Photo 2) wipes out a small flotilla of sailing vessels. With her deck gun, she sinks three in 20 minutes: "Al Kasbanah" (Egyptian), "Dolphin" (British Palestinian), and "Husni" (Lebanese). (Casualties unspecified) Shortly thereafter, she bags the Egyptian "Sabah el Kheir" as well. (Casualties unspecified). Just another day... 🇺🇲🇺🇲 ** Please Like & Follow "Sandy Hook History" on Facebook & Instagram for more amazing maritime and military histories of the Garden State and New York Harbor as well as a review of the 80th Anniversary of the Battle Of The Atlantic and World War 2** 🇺🇲🇺🇲 Photos: 1, uboat.net; 2, uboot-recherche.de #visitmonmouth #newjerseybuzz #thejournalnj #locallivingnj #journeythroughjersey #centraljerseyexists #discovernj #yesnj #newjerseyhistory #newjerseyforyou #sandyhookbeach #sandyhooknj #sandyhookhistory #forthancockhistory #forthancock #battleoftheatlantic #merchantmariner #steamer #torpedoes #torpedoattack #kriegsmarine #uboats #uboat #battleofthemediterranean #sailingvessel #convoybattle #deckgun #unterseeboot #merchantship #manganese (at Fort Hancock, New Jersey) https://www.instagram.com/p/CojAHb4tnUs/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[captmiketravels]

What’s better; a Cat or a monohull? #captmiketravels #sail #sailing #sailboats #saillife #sailboat #sailinstagram #sailinglife #sailingyacht #sailingadventure #sailingworld #sailingpassion #sailingvessel #sailtheworld #worldwidesailing #sailingyachts #monohull #catamaran #sailingholiday #sailingholidays (at Martinique) https://www.instagram.com/p/CfZXZc-t3ma/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[ccohanlon]

of wood and salt water

 The boatyard was on the banks of a tidal creek, a witch-finger of thin, muddy water protruding from an estuary that spilled into the North Sea. The yard was nothing more than a couple of weathered, corrugated tin sheds and an acre of rutted earth exposed to cold north-easterly squalls that, today, drove sleet from the sea inland, across the marshes. Rows of yachts were laid up ashore, standing on their keels supported by logs and steel scaffolding jacks. They looked like arcane crypts — and the whole yard a burial ground — for some long absent, sea-going tribe. Loose halyards rattled against hollow masts and wire rigging hummed, a sombre, metallic threnody.

It had taken me most of an abbreviated mid-winter's day to get here — a train from the city to a village at the edge of the fens, then a bus across monochrome flatlands, past windbreaks of gnarled, salt-stunted trees. In the last of the afternoon light, it was a relief to find the metal gate to the boatyard unlocked.

I had come in search of a sailing boat. I had its specifications and half a dozen, faded ink-jet photos on a sheaf of folded pages stuffed in the back pocket of my jeans. "Give me an idea of what you're looking for," the broker had said. It was basic: a cutter or ketch, gaff-rigged, timber or steel, under forty feet, an old working boat maybe, in good condition. Engine optional. No plastic. There were other things — all these scribbled observations, pencil sketches. crude technical diagrams, book references, and arcane measurements that I'd collected in a handful of saltwater-stained notebooks over forty years — but they didn't distill easily to a wish-list.

The boat was thirty-two feet over the deck. It had been built a couple of decades ago on the lines of a 'bawley', a small cutter that, in the early years of the 20th century, worked shrimp grounds off the south-east coast of England and got its name from a boiler in which the catch was cooked at sea. Her deep, buxom hull was carvel planked with pitch pine on old growth oak and black locust frames, all fastened with copper and bronze. Her wide decks were teak laid over marine ply and sealed with several coats of paint. In photographs, she was broad-beamed and purposeful, her high, plumb stem rising from a deep fore-foot and a long, heavily ballasted keel. Her modest, old-fashioned rig carried sail enough to drive her through big seas. She was not pretty, by any means, but she had character.

In real life, out of the water, cradled precariously on hard, frozen ground, she looked forlorn. All that was visible of her long bowsprit was its heavy cranse iron and tapered, white-painted end. The rest of it lay on the foredeck, covered, like the side decks and deckhouses, by tan-coloured, oiled canvas. Her Sitka spruce mast, fidded top-mast, and other spars had been removed and lay next to the hull on paint-spattered, aluminium sawhorses. Lengths of galvanised wire standing rigging were secured along the length of the mast with scrap cordage and masking tape.

I couldn't resist stooping to smell the residue of natural oil and salt in the black-speckled grain of the spars. The first encounter with any timber boat is a sensual, tactile experience. A few minutes might be spent studying a boat's lines from various angles, trying to understand how they influence its behaviour at sea, but it is usually the small, physical interactions with the material of the vessel — fingers run lightly over lengths wire to feel for parted strands or thrust under chips of rust to pry them from steel chainplates, knuckles rapped hard along planks, sounding for dead spots, patches of unresonant 'softness' in the timber, that might turn out to be rot— that gradually extracts its story.

I am not a craftsman; my hands don't find their way easily around wood or metal. But a traditional wooden sailing vessel is rough-hewn, an artefact of the past, built with simple tools by simple people, using natural materials and uncomplicated structures that have been tested in northern seas for nearly two thousand years. It is animate in ways that an anodyne, modern yacht, built of glass reinforced plastic and aluminium on an industrialised production line, can never be. Each frame and plank of a wooden boat retains the characteristics and history, even the scent, not only of the tree from which it was sawn but of the environment in which the tree was grown, and this is elemental to the way they respond to the stresses of wind and water or resist moisture intrusion, worm, mildew and rot. There is alchemy of sorts even in the choice of fastenings used to hold frames to keel and planking to frames — copper, bronze and sometimes wooden dowels rather than iron (it tends to corrode within the timber and weaken it), rarely stainless steel or modern epoxies.

In the old days, nothing was built lightly. The scantlings of a sea-going hull were, and still are, the legacy of generations of  "poor men, suffering from the two great spiritual evils of poverty — ignorance and prejudice" (as the early 20th century writer, sailor, and naval architect, Conor O'Brien, put it). In the absence of an understanding of physics and mathematics, and stubbornly disposed to an adversarial relationship with nature, they believed everything heavy was better.

Climbing onto the after deck, eight feet above the ground, the solidity was reassuring. The after-most corners of the oiled canvas flogged in the gusts as I started to roll it forward to access a companionway hatch. The sun was setting at the edge of the marshes, leaving a thin smudge of aqueous yellow under leaden stratus clouds. The wind had hardened. Against a fast-flowing spring ebb, it kicked up steep overfalls over the shoals beyond the estuary entrance. For a moment, I imagined the deck shift beneath me as we headed out there into the blow, leeward gunwhales driven into the sea by hard-pressed sails, the whole ship feeling suddenly smaller as green water tumbled over the bulwarks.

Below decks, it was dry and quiet. I found a torch by the companionway steps and followed its weak beam into the cabin: To starboard, there was a galley with a two-burner, stainless steel and brass paraffin stove, varnished teak counter tops, and verdigrised brass taps over a square, steel sink; to port, a teak chart table. Forward, there were two settees, a sea berth above each, and a substantial teak folding table between them, built around the keel-stepped mast. Along both sides of the cabin, lots of lockers and shelves, with fiddles to keep things in place.  At the end of the cabin, a brass paraffin heater was bolted to the sole in front of a stainless steel panel on the bulkhead; next to it, a doorway into the forepeak, where a porcelain toilet older than the boat was surrounded by a workbench, stowage for tools, sail bags and rope, and a chain locker.

Everywhere, the hull's stout frames and planks were visible — none of them painted, just lightly oiled, to bring out the natural colour and grain. The seams between the planks were tight.

The modest interior felt comfortable, functional and secure, like an old stone cottage. There was little of the 'pleasure yacht' about it. This was a small, wooden sailing ship, plain but practical, set up for extended voyaging offshore. It was exactly what I had been looking for. I had been longing to get back to the sea before my capacity for adventure was corroded by old age and heart disease. I day-dreamed of ocean passages towards somewhere distant, careless of whether I actually arrived. I wanted to make an offer for her.

For the first time, I noticed the girth of the beams supporting the roof of the deckhouse and the circular bronze ports along its sides. This cabin would be my only refuge at sea. Sometimes, in a bad storm, when the sea starts climbing aboard and the decks become untenable, all you can do is take in the sails, lash the helm to leeward, and leave the boat to fend for itself. The question I needed to ask myself was not "Do I like this boat?" but "Would I trust it with my life?”

It was dark when I clambered up to the after deck again. A claw of cold air pierced my clothes and reminded me that I would probably have a long wait for the bus back to the village. I slid the companionway hatch back into place and locked it, then unrolled and re-secured the canvas cover. Back on the ground, I took one more walk around the hull. I stopped at the bow and pressed the palm of one hand against the square edge of the stem for a moment — an act of claiming, I told myself, but also an inexplicable impulse to feel for a pulse.

I turned to retrace my steps to the boatyard gate.

First published in Reliquae, through Corbel Stone Press, UK, 2020

[lightwolf69]

#stahlratte … 03-2018 … - - - - - - - - #cuba #cubatravel #davidketel #kuba #photographer #photography #sony #sonyalpha #sonyphoto #sonyphotography #sonypicture #total_cuba #travel #travelphoto #travelphotography #travelpicture #ship #sailingvessel #sailingship #caribbean #caribbeantravel #sailingadventure https://www.instagram.com/p/BvrQek_Ac3-/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=1p62h2n3vpkac

[windtravelvi-blog]

Our luxury boats are maintained in pristine condition and are fully equipped with all the luxury amenities such as Satellite TV, Entertainment System Available, Paddle Boards, Scuba are available, and much more. For more information, visit our website today.

[mutineerbay]

#Repost @lorenzo.de_sanctis ・・・ The Bay. This is the village, or the main town, on the island view from above. The town is populated by pirates, from all over the world. The village is on a beautiful beach that goes from a hill to another. It was time for me to show the nerve center of Libertalia. I'm focused on creating a great place for my story and the town is where I first started. . . . . . #conceptart #enviroment #Digital2D #enviromentdesign #Libertatia #Libertalia #personalproject #keyart #keyframes #sailingvessel #sailingship #pirates #tropicalvillage #bay #tropicalbay #oldship #pirateship #Madagascar #pirateharbor #piratevillage #tropicalisland #island #town #oldtown #jungle #sketches #composition #digitalillustration #lorenzodesanctis https://www.instagram.com/p/ChuMNo2uWdv/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[bagusarisaputra]

Life is to be seen, heard, felt, touched, inhaled, not read about, not theorised about, not thought about! Photography by @harryjauw #sailingboat #sailingvessel #pinisi #balistyle #balilivin #maleportrait #menslifestyle #menswearfashion #gentlemanlife #balimodels (di Bali) https://www.instagram.com/p/Ce5vMI-FLWl/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[lesdupont]

Sailing videoart #sailing #sailingboat #sailinglife #sailingstagram #Sailingyacht #sailinginstagram #SailingTrip #sailingphotography #SailingShip #sailingboats #sailingpassion #sailingteam #sailingaway #sailingclub #sailingday #sailingadventure #sailingholidays #sailingworld #sailingwhen #sailingvessel #sailingkomodo #sailingschool #sailingrace #sailingcroatia #sailinglovers #sailinglifestyle #sailinggear #sailingtime #sailingfamily #sailingyachta https://www.instagram.com/p/Clt2d5qLta_/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[ajhopson2001]

•$11.50 Print •$4.99 Kindle •1 Credit Audible or Free• “A smart, sassy & sexy novel about sailors - and non-sailors -  thrown together for a week of intense competition.” Nefarious is a story of the fragility of human existence and the power of the natural world. With beautiful prose and vivid characters, Antonio Hopson explores what it means to be human. Step into a world of intrigue and magic in the Salish Sea.” —Jen Tree Book Blog #sailing #sailinglife #sailingday #sailing_feature #sailinginstagram #sailingpassion #sailingvessel #sailingtrip https://www.instagram.com/p/BrExsEmFVa-/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=llxr3rxr5rm1

[rafaelmillertatuagem]

Pra quem gosta de viajar haha Tatuagem de uns dias atrás. #nautic #nautica #sailing #boats #boat #sea #yacht #navegar #barcos #veleros #yachting #nautical #sail #sailingship #lanchas #powerboat #sailingvessel #sailingyacht #lovetosail #sailingholidays #sailingpassion #jetsky #superyatchs #sailphotography #yatchs #sailvideos #jetskyaccidents #sailingmylove #cruceros (em Brazil) https://www.instagram.com/p/CbGyt7XsuRL/?utm_medium=tumblr

[weehughie]

If you’re a Poldark junkie you might recognise the Kajsamoor and Charlestown... • • #kajsamoor #ketch #sailingship #themotherofthewindtroll #schooner #galleass #galleassrigged #squaretopsail #sailingship #sailingvessel #charlestown #cornwall #charlestowncornwall #poldark #poldarktv #rosspoldark #captainrosspoldark #bbctv #tvseries #poldarkfan #poldarkcornwall #poldarklocation #poldarktvseries #cornish #harbour #cornishharbour #iphonex (at Historic Port of Charlestown) https://www.instagram.com/p/BneacZvBgU6/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=6tpzfr7w3800

[nicks-lunchbox-service]

8.11.21 Lunchtime drawing: Historic ships of Manhattan take three, the iron-hulled sailing vessel Wavertree, at the South Street Seaport.

[lightwolf69]

#arrival in #jamaica🇯🇲 on the #sailingvessel #stahlratte … 03-2018 … - - - - - - - - #davidketel #photographer #photography #sony #sonyalpha #sonyphoto #sonyphotography #sonypicture #travel #travelphoto #travelphotography #travelpicture #traveljamaica #sailing #stahlrattevonbremen #caribbean #caribbeansea #sailingship #weather #clouds #caribbeantravel https://www.instagram.com/p/Bu1NK7IAEXI/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=1utkejltaopnc

[thelitartist]

Look Tall ———————- #ship #shipmast #sailing #sailingvessel #costguard #maine #portland #photography #mainephotography (at Portland, Maine) https://www.instagram.com/p/CSVYaPSrbYF/?utm_medium=tumblr