Written by Jill, SV Eucalyptus
I had never had much to do with boats, and if the sea had been calling me, I hadn’t heard it!
When I crewed (a very loose term – I did watches, some entertaining, and even baked a bit of bread) on a friend’s catamaran from Vanuatu to Bundaberg, I enjoyed it so much that upon returning home, I entertained the idea of selling everything. I considered abandoning my children and grandchildren, giving away the dog and cat, and even selling my beloved Princess Diana, a Jersey/Angus cross cow I had raised since she was three days old. Shelley, my partner, seemed to agree with this drastic plan and even gave up her Chinese Medicine practice of 30 years. Ironically, Shelley gets seasick just looking at the sea!
We had never sailed a day in our lives but undertook a week-long course on a monohull, spent a couple of days with Keith Logan on Sydney Harbour, devoured countless sailing books, and completed an RYA Day Skipper course online.
I never intended for us to actually buy a new boat, but here we are, now med-moored in Gibraltar on our Helia 44. We eventually agreed to name the boat Eucalyptus. Shelley strongly favored “Coolabah,” but that reminded me too much of those cheap wine casks, so a compromise was reached.
We hired Veronique, a Belgian yacht mistress, who provided us with a week of training in La Rochelle. We also enlisted the help of a lovely Italian cruising instructor to guide us across the Bay of Biscay. The Bay was kind to us, and apart from Shelley’s seasickness, it was a successful trip.
When they left us in A Coruña, I experienced a significant crisis of confidence. I watched other boats, like Wild Odyssey, OdesseaX, and Solis, arrive and depart while we remained stuck there for a month. A Coruña is a charming place, but a month was simply too long. To boost my morale, I invited a Polish lady who had expressed interest in sailing with us to join us for a couple of weeks. While her assistance was minimal, it provided a much-needed confidence boost. I realized I knew more than I had given myself credit for.
However, at heart, I am a small acreage farmer. I could tell you more about milk fever and calving than I could about reefing a sail. I could teach you how to perform a half-pass or a shoulder-in (dressage terms), and I know that “port” is the left side and “starboard” is the right side of a horse. I can drive a tractor, and reverse a float or trailer, so maneuvering a boat shouldn’t be that difficult, right?
Now, in our third month of sailing, the anxiety is lessening, and each marina entry and anchoring maneuver becomes slightly easier. We explored some beautiful Rías in Spain, wandered through charming old cobbled streets, sampled local beers and tapas, and tested our limited language skills. Then, we retreat to our little piece of Australia on Eucalyptus.
This journey has been a significant challenge, and at times, I have questioned whether it was all worth the stress. I even considered putting the boat back on the market. But today is a good day, and Gibraltar is quite a pleasant spot.