This edition of Armchair Travel is returning to the seas for a selection of my favourite films with an oceanic flavour. Many of these films are documentaries or dramas based on true events, though there are a few tales of thrilling adventure and suspense.
Losing Sight of Shore (2017)
A documentary account of the Coxless Crew, a team of women rowing 8000 miles unsupported across the Pacific Ocean from California and Australia. With pit-stops in Hawaii and Samoa, they spend around nine months at sea, overcoming extraordinary mental and physical hardship.
The Big Blue / Le Grand Bleu (1988)
A dramatised account of the friendship between two leading freedivers and their intense love of the ocean. A beautiful, dreamlike film about the raptures of the deep.
A Plastic Ocean (2016)
The documentary film that first brought awareness of widespread plastic contamination in the ocean, and the devastating consequences on the health of the ecosystem, to the wider public. An essential film everyone should see, and a launchpad to take action.
The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou (2004)
Steve Murray plays an oceanographer bent on revenge against the mythical jaguar shark that ate his partner in this Wes Anderson comedy clearly inspired by the documentary films of Jacques Cousteau.
The Cove (2009)
An Oscar-winning documentary following activist Ric O’Barry as he details the practice of driven dolphin hunting in Taiji, Japan, alleged to kill more cetaceans than the well-known Antarctic whaling industry. It contains some brutal scenes, so may not be suitable for all audiences.
20,000 Leagues Under the Sea (1954)
I’m not sure who I’m in love with more; James Mason as brooding and mysterious Captain Nemo, or the Kraken that battles with the Nautilus. Ok, it’s the giant squid.
The Endless Summer (1966)
A classic surf documentary following three surfers as they travel the globe in search of the perfect wave. Locations visited include then-unknown breaks at Raglan, New Zealand, Cape St. Francis, South Africa, and Labadi, Ghana, as well as the big wave mecca of Hawaii’s North Shore.
Chasing Coral (2017)
A poignant record of the ecological collapse of a section of Australia’s Great Barrier Reef in a coral bleaching event triggered by rising sea temperatures, including a painstakingly created time-lapse sequence.
End of the Line (2009)
The first documentary to focus on the impact of unsustainable pressure on global fisheries. Over a quarter of the world’s fish stocks are being exploited close to extinction, and a further 50% at close to their maximum capacity. Important viewing for everyone that chooses to eat fish.
The best film ever made, and the reason that I always hesitate for a moment before getting into the water while wild swimming. Even in the north of Scotland. Even in a freshwater loch.
Have you watched any of these films?
Which of your ocean favourites would you recommend for me?
I’d love to hear from you; let me know what you think in the comments.
A travel repair kit has the things you need to deal with whatever the road throws at you.
A repair kit is an essential for extended trips into wild and remote areas. A good repair kit will help you take the results of everyday wear and tear in your stride, like a small rip in your trousers, and can make you feel more confident handling the unexpected disasters, like a broken backpack or wind-shredded tent.
Carrying a few simple tools and materials will let you carry out necessary repairs in the field, and could make the difference between completing your adventure and turning back early due to gear failure. Or enjoying your weekend citybreak without stress.
Below is a list of the things I pack in my repair kit, to give ideas of what you might think about taking yourself. Many of the things in my kit were already lying around in the junk drawer at home, though there’s a few things worth buying specifically, as it can be a challenge to keep things lightweight for travel.
Though it’s heavier and bulkier than a pocket knife, the additional features on a good multi-tool are invaluable. The pliers can grip everything from hot pot lids to stitching needles or a bathplug stuck in the hole. The screw drivers can tighten up locks on trekking poles or open up a generator for a service. The knife can be used for cutting anything from ropes to the foil of food pouches. And the bottle opener speaks for itself. While much beefier multi-tools are available, my Leatherman Sidekick has all the essentials, and I love it.
As I wear glasses, I also take a set of tiny jeweller’s screwdrivers to tighten up loose legs if necessary. Possibly the only good things ever to come from a Christmas cracker.
With endless potential uses, duct tape (or duck tape, if you prefer) is worth its weight in gold. It can patch a groundsheet, keep the sole attached to your boot, and hold together a suitcase that had a run-in with the baggage carousel. I’ve even used it on my feet to prevent blisters on my heels during an endurance hike. Rather than pack the entire roll, wrap a few metres around something else in your kit to save weight; I’ve put it around a lighter, but you could use a water bottle or trekking pole.
A small tube of quick-setting cyanoacrylate adhesive is excellent for repairing broken hard items. Most recently, I used it to fix my hairbrush after it pulled apart in a particularly tough tangle (yes, I do brush my hair… sometimes). If you’re really hardcore, it can even be used to close wounds in an emergency.
Also known as zip ties, these strong, lightweight and inexpensive items can save the day. Use them for everything from heavy-duty repairs on a busted backpack or boot, replacing a guy line attachment on your tent, to creating a waterproof colour coding system for managing waste on expeditions.
A few metres of this strong utility cordage will do for everything from replacing bootlaces, zipper pulls and drawstrings, to lashing gear to your pack and providing an additional guy line for your tent in a storm.
Used to melt the ends of cords and twine, and light stoves, campfires, and candles. Who known when you’ll need mood lighting?
Spinnaker repair tape
This self-adhesive ripstop nylon tape was originally intended for repairing lightweight nylon sails, and can be used patch a variety of synthetic fabrics. It will stop feathers falling out of a favourite down jacket, and cover that hole in your sleeping bag from creeping too close to the campfire (true story).
On a camping trip, I’ll also take a selection of the spare nylon patches that come when you buy most outdoor gear and some liquid sealant, as spinnaker tape doesn’t always stick to some treated nylon surfaces.
Though tapes and adhesive patches can go a long way, a small sewing kit adds extra versatility. I pack a selection of needles and thread that will handle replacing buttons and repairing seams on clothing, to stitching a blown out sail or broken backpack. A sailmaker’s palm helps with the heavy duty work, and safety pins hold things in place for bigger tears. I store the sharp stuff in an old vitamin bottle, so I don’t stab my fingers rummaging for what I need.
I also have a little bit of wool in case I need to darn any of my woollen clothing, and whipping twine to finish the end of ropes. Once a bosun, always a bosun.
Part of my sailing repair kit, I use colourful electrical tape to hold the end of lines until there’s time for a proper finish, and for marking items as mine. It can cover rough edges and splinters that might snag your skin, and also do it’s intended job of covering exposed electrical wires on a charger or appliance.
Something else from my sailing kit, this is thin steel wire used to secure fastenings on a ship. It can be used in a similar way to cable ties, fastening things together where cord might rub away, even making heavy duty stitches in items under serious stress. Heating the end of the wire also lets you melt neat holes in plastic and rubber for stitching.
A permanent marker is always useful.
This Peli torch was a gift from a friend at the start of my ocean sailing career, and it is rated intrinsically safe for working in hazardous environments. It’s in the repair kit as we both believe that you can never have enough torches, plus it’s nicely pocket sized. I also take spare batteries that fit this and my headtorch.
Everything packs into a compact bag with a zip closure. It used to be a make-up bag that came as part of a gift set. I find it much better than a hard case or tupperware box for cramming into a corner of a kit bag.
I’ll add other items for different activities, types of travel, or destination: a camping trip might need patches and glue for tents and sleeping mats, and a service kit for a stove; bikepacking necessitates a puncture repair kit and some basic bike maintenance tools.
I hope this gives you ideas for creating your own travel repair kit. If you think I’ve missed anything, or there’s something you just can’t travel without, let me know in the comments below.
At this time of year, with the winter solstice just past, and New Year not too far ahead, I usually find myself in a reflective mood, thinking about all the things that have happened through the year, and what might be to come in the year ahead.
I find this time of year quite challenging; living with depression sometimes I’m so lacking in energy and motivation through these months that just getting out of bed feels like swimming through treacle. I’m no fan of the resolutions that January brings, usually involving the denial of alcohol, caffeine and sugar; things that make the dark winter months that bit more enjoyable.
In my opinion, such extreme measures and deprivation are unlikely to do any favours in the long term. I think a more workable way to make lifestyle changes, and to manage the challenges of winter, is to introduce small, enjoyable, things that upgrade my everyday, and contribute to success without excluding anything.
So this a list of 10 small things I’m aiming to do through winter, to keep my body and mind fresh and focused, and work towards a healthy, happy, year ahead.
Drink more water (but ditch single-use plastic bottles). Hydration is important, but the health of the planet is even more vital. Investing in a reusable water bottle saved me money in the long run, and cut my plastic footprint from the start. It takes a bit more organisation, but so many places now give refills that it’s easy on the go. I have a Kleen Kanteen insulated bottle that keeps water chilled for hours, or lets me take a warm drink out for a winter hike.
Pick an audiobook or podcast. I love listening to the radio as I do things; driving, cooking, writing, and so on. But rather than listening passively to whatever plays, I’ve decided to be more pro-active in my choices. Plus, having tales of travel and adventure read aloud to me in the bath is the height of luxury. Try some of my favourites and see if you agree.
Set aside a weekly life admin hour. Rather than letting stuff build up, which can pile on anxiety, designating a regular session for sorting paperwork, paying bills, and all the other dull stuff helps me manage stresses. I write down ideas and reminders through the week on a running to do list to make sure that I don’t miss anything important. It’s part of my strategy to turn down the volume on noise.
Get outside every day. Getting out in the fresh air and sunlight is vital for my mental health, especially in winter, event though the weather isn’t always as welcoming as I’d hope for. Good wind and waterproof outdoor gear makes it so much easier, so it’s worth spending on quality items that make the difference between getting out and about or moping under a duvet. These are my cold weather essentials for heading out.
Learn three 15 minute recipes. Arriving home from work in the dark, after a long day, I know that I need to eat a meal within half an hour or I’ll be scoffing snacks all evening. It’s too easy to throw a plastic pot of something into the microwave, so my aim is to master three quick recipes and try to always have the ingredients at hand. My current favourites are gnocchi with pancetta, mushrooms and parmesan, spicy pepper and halloumi wraps, and a soy chili chicken rice bowl topped with a fried egg.
Plan regular digital admin dates. I rely on my laptop, phone and camera for work, blogging, and other projects, and it’s too easy to have hundreds of notes, photos and documents filling up the memory on my devices. So I’ve started a monthly habit to download, delete, file and back-up my files. It does sound incredibly tedious, but it’s also the chance to chill on the sofa for a few hours, listen to music or a podcast, perhaps with a glass or two of something.
Master a mini-workout with three exercises to do anywhere. My fitness routine, well, just isn’t routine. With travelling, sailing, and unpredictable work hours, I can find it hard to fit in the gym or swim sessions and fitness classes that I know help my physical and mental health. So with three simple exercises I can do anywhere (squats, lunges and tricep dips), I have a basic workout to build on wherever I am.
Schedule some diary dates with friends. It can be too easy to put off catching-up with a coffee or glass of wine when the weather and darkness make heading home to hibernate such a nice idea. By making a loose arrangement to meet friends weekly at parkrun or yoga class, or for a monthly pub quiz or craft session draws us together without the extra effort of planning an event and rounding up the troops.
Take on a course to learn new skills, expand my knowledge, or revive an old passion. Over the past few years I’ve done an introduction to yoga, a printmaking class, and taken an adult improvers swimming course. I’ve also used online study to improve my Norwegian language skills and to spark an interest in maritime archaeology, using the Future Learn platform. In winter is seems to be a bit easier to allocate an evening a week to a new activity, which has the benefit of extending my social circle (virtually and in real life), and keeping my brain active.
Map travels for the New Year. Recently my travels have been quite spontaneous, taking advantage of the opportunities that cropped up through the year. But with a switch to a full-time freelance status I need to do some serious planning to balance income generating activity with income depleting activity. Plus, I love the process of planning out travels and fixing some dates and destinations for the year ahead.
Do you have any tips for making winter work for you?
How do you intend to relax and recharge yourself for the New Year?
Leave a message in the comments below to let me know.
This newest edition of Armchair Travel steps away from previous form, to bring you inspiration and escape from the everyday through some of the podcasts I’ve enjoyed.
I love the flexibility that listening to podcasts and audiobooks gives. Unlike with reading a book, I can get deeply engrossed in a story or conversation as I walk or run, drive my car, or soak in the bath. (I’m quite obsessive about the condition of my books*, and there’s no way I’d allow anyone, even myself, to risk taking them into the steamy, damp bathroom). I even listen to podcasts while I’m working as a bosun on a ship, perched aloft in the rigging to serve, seize, and whip.
*Fold corners over? You’re now on the list of people I don’t lend books to, along with other barbarians like my Dad and my oldest friend Shel.
So here are five of my favourite podcasts to travel without moving.
From Our Own Correspondent.
Longform journalism podcast from the BBC that blends travel reportage, political analysis, and stories that lie behind recent headlines. I love listening to this on Radio 4 as part of my Saturday mornings when I’m home, for the content, but also for the lessons in how to present an engaging piece of writing. Listen live to BBC Radio 4, or follow here.
Presented by three self-proclaimed “history and geography geeks”, the 80 Days podcast is dedicated to discovering lesser-known countries and territories around the world, through their history, politics, landscapes, and culture, including places like Rapa Nui, Sápmi, Birobidzhan**, and the Kuril Islands. Dive in to the podcast here.
**Yeah, me neither.
Travel Tales Beyond the Brochure.
The Barefoot Backpacker dives into a different theme in each episode, talking about concepts like why bucket lists can be a bad idea, reverse culture shock, or travelling in your home town, as well as offbeat destinations like Vanuatu. Follow the conversations here.
A podcast bringing forth voices of women doing things outdoors, from exploration and adventure, working in outdoor industries, arts and music, to environmental awareness and activism. It has a strong North American influence, but reaches out to cover women around the world. Find it here.
Presented by an experienced polar tour leader and a nature photographer, this podcast covers the colder corners of the globe. Topics have somewhat of a science and exploration focus, ranging from the Global Seed Vault in Spitzbergen, the history of the whaling industry, how to walk in snowshoes, marine mammal sex, and where exactly Santa Claus lives. Find it here.
You can find all these podcasts through their own websites or via various playing platforms like itunes, Google Play, Stitcher, and Spotify.
Which travel podcasts do you follow?
Leave me your recommendations in the comments below.
I’ve just returned to the UK after several weeks at sea on Blue Clipper, crossing from Norway to England, and on to Portugal, followed up by a few weeks of maintenance work based on the Algarve coast.
Norway is my favourite country and I loved visiting new places on this trip, starting with Bodø, and crossing the Arctic circle as we headed south to Ålesund. I also revisited familiar ground around Haugesund and Karmøy, when we ended up storm-bound in Skudeneshavnfor a week longer than expected.
The voyage was amazing for wildlife encounters; migrating barnacle geese, eider ducks and other birds heading southwards, enormous sea eagles on every island, sharks cruising by on the surface, basking seals, pods of porpoises, dolphins, pilot whales. Sparking bioluminescence mirroring the night’s stars. And as we crossed the Bay of Biscay, a day or so north of Camariñas, two magnificent fin whales broke the surface on our starboard side.
I’ve never really been one for sunshine holidays, so the Algarve has never really been on my travel radar until now. I was really pleased to find that away from resorts (and in the shoulder season) there are some really beautiful and wild parts of the coast, near Alvor and Sagres, estuaries and saltmarshes filled with birdlife, and even storks roosting on every tower in town. And Portuguese food is pretty good too.
Back in the UK, I’ve been fortunate to get a couple of short trips in the time I’ve been back, with a couple of days in the Peak District near Leek, and a few more in Church Stretton to hike in the Shropshire Hills, brush up on my navigation skills, and appreciate the stunning autumn colours.
What I’ve done:
Since returning to Bedfordshire, I’ve joined the weekly parkrun at my nearby country park. It’s been so long since I’ve been running, and I’m still getting over a knee injury, so I’m starting from the beginning again, but I really enjoy the sociability of the runs.
I’ve been developing an idea for a podcast, which I hope to launch next month. So when I get a moment, it’s filled up with working: reading, researching, and writing. Watch this space for more news.
I’ve also pulled out all my hiking gear, waterproof clothing, and sailing oilskins to give them all a proper deep clean, and coating with Nikwax waterproofing treatment ready for winter. I hope the effort will pay off and keep me dry and warm through the months ahead.
Do bears run in these woods?
Parkrun timing chip
My autumn love list:
Book: I’ve been remotely discovering the Scottish islands over the last couple of months, with several of the books I’ve read. But When I Heard the Bell: The Loss of the Iolaire by John MacLeod has been the one that’s lingered longest in my mind. An account of the tragic loss of the ship returning demobbed WWI soldiers and seamen home to the islands for Hogmanay, and the long shadow cast by the worst peacetime maritime loss in British waters.
Podcast: Dan Snow’s History Hit, which does exactly what it says on the tin. Each is a short but deep dive into a specific event or idea from history. With the hundredth anniversary of the armistice that ended WWI in November, my recent interest has been mainly in the episodes covering that period. Which brings me on to…
Film: They Shall Not Grow Old, a documentary film by Peter Jackson that tells the story of WWI from the British point of view, using old film archives and recorded interviews. The moment that the images on screen transition from black and white to colourised 3D footage is simply spine-tingling.
Dressed for the chill
What I’ve loved this autumn
Clothing: Since returning from the Algarve to Bedfordshire, I’ve embraced the chill to get out and make the most of my favourite season. That means warm woollen sweaters, including my favourite knit from Finisterre, cosy socks, and a new pair of gloves from Rab. I’ve also been able to dig out my flannel pyjamas for enjoying toasty evenings in.
Equipment: With the clock change last month and nights drawing in, I’ve found myself out in the dark often, and my Petzl Tikka+ headtorch has become one of the things I use most. As a lightweight lamp, with a red light, it’s great for moving around a ship at night or going on evening runs, however I think I might look into upgrading to something more powerful for hiking in the dark, like one from LED Lenser.
Treats: Autumn always means mince pies. They’re usually available from around the time of my birthday in September, and I buy a selection from the different stores to work out which is my preferred mince pie for the season. I’m still in the testing stage this year, as I’ve been scoffing pastéis de nata in Portugal until recently.
I’m planning on a much quieter few months over the winter, spending time back up in northeast Scotland visiting friends and family. I’m hoping that there will be plenty of time to walk along the coast, and take a few trips into the mountains, around the projects I’ll be working on.
I’m also going to get stuck into the planning for my next big adventure, looking at maps, blog posts, and guides. In May 2019, I’m going to be taking part in the TGO Challenge, a self-supported crossing of Scotland from west to east. Participants choose their own start and finish points, and plan their route between the two. This will be my second attempt at the TGO, so I’ve some unfinished business to deal with, plus it’s the 40th Anniversary of the challenge.
Thanks for following along with These Vagabond Shoes.
You can keep up to date with my travel and adventures (and vague rambling ideas) on Twitter, Instagram and Facebook. Here’s to fair seas and following winds.
I’d love to hear about what you’ve been up to this season, or any plans you have for the season ahead. Let me know in the comments below.
This post contains affiliate links. If you purchase through my link, I will make a small commission* at no additional cost to you. These help me to continue to run this site, providing tips and advice, and sharing stories from my adventures. Thank you for supporting me.
*Maybe enough for a coffee. Not enough for a yacht.
The name Norway derives from Nordvegen, the north route, a network of sheltered sounds, straits and fjords along the country’s coast providing a shipping route protected from the wild North and Norwegian Seas. Karmsund, the narrow channel between the mainland and the island of Karmøy, a Viking stronghold, was the final part of the route we’d follow before emerging into the open water of Boknafjorden, north of Stavanger.
We make our approaches to Haugesund shortly before 4am, following a couple of large supply vessels into the port, and picking up the sector lights of the first of the channel markers. Unlike previous night’s sailing, this was pilotage, picking out lights marking the edge of the channel and counting off the buoys, and in familiar water (I sailed here on Draken Harald Hårfagre in the summer of 2013).
Skudeneshavn lies less than 30km as the crow flies from Utsira island
The wind strength beginning to build through the day
The wind had died away in the evening, and Karmsund was millpond flat in the lee of the island. With first light we picked up the beginning of the open water swell, rolling in across from the North Sea ahead of the coming weather system, and at the 7am watch change, we handed over a slate grey sea streaked with white horses, and the news that we’d put into Skudeneshavn rather than try to run ahead of the storm for Lerwick or Peterhead.
Entry into Skudeneshaven is through a channel, only 30 metres at the narrowest just past the lighthouse at Vikeholmen. After a couple of hours punching into the swell we find our line into the harbour, and start dropping sails for arrival. I’m sent to the bowsprit to call distances and look out for traffic in the harbour (I’m rubbish at estimating distances) as rain starts to sheet down.
Skudeneshavn was bustling herring port in the 18th and 19th century, a boom town during the age of sail, where fishing and shipping brought wealth to the locals and drew in workers from the rest of the region. Now traditional herring drifters in the harbour have given way to vast oil rig supply ships and small leisure boats.
We slide into the wind shadow of an immense oil rig supply ship with a helipad several stories above the tip of our mast, and try to find a berth big enough for the ship. The harbour narrows down, lined with old buildings, and small boats are tied up on every quay. The wind pushes us to one spot, and we quickly make fast, though this involves running up one lane and down another, and hopping into a garden.
The old town, Gamle Skudeneshavn, is a winding warren of narrow cobbled lanes, quays and jetties, and traditional whitewashed timber buildings, built by the master boatbuilders that were based here, in a tight jumble around the water’s edge. The town still bustles through the summer, as a popular holiday getaway from nearby Stavanger, and the host of several heritage festivals, including Skudefestivalen, the largest traditional boat gathering in western Norway.
In late autumn, the streets and the shore are far quieter, as weather systems sweep in from the Atlantic Ocean bringing regular wind squalls and rain showers. Coastal walks become bracing, but there’s always a cosy corner in town to find hot coffee and waffles to warm up.
As the crow flies, we’re less than 15 nautical miles from the island of Utsira, imagined remote and stormbound yet so familiar from the Shipping Forecast, that regular incantation that masters the weather for mariners. Violent storm 11 is every bit as terrifying as it sounds. We’ll be staying here in harbour for some time.
You’ve booked a once-in-a-lifetime voyage on a beautiful sailing ship, and started dreaming about life during the golden age of sail or even rounding the Horn in a force nine. But as your date of departure cruises closer, what do you actually need to pack?
I’ve sailed on a few tall ships; short voyages around western Europe, island hopping in the Pacific, on long ocean crossing passages, and in the Tall Ships races, so from my experience, here are some recommendations to add to your packing list.
How to pack
Space on a sailing ship is limited, so think carefully about what you bring, and how you bring it. Forget stuffing things into a hard-shelled rolling suitcase, there’s usually nowhere to stow it onboard. Instead, pack a collapsible holdall or duffle bag, which can be rolled up when not in use. Waterproof bags aren’t usually necessary, but it might be worth investing in one if you sail on smaller vessels too. I love my Helly Hansen 90L duffel bag. It’s big enough for everything I need, plus things I pick up on the voyage, and being orange, I always find it on the luggage carousel at the airport.
Packing cubes or small lightweight drybags help keep things organised inside your main bag. I have a variety of sizes and colours; it’s not the most coordinated look, but I can easily grab what I need.
What you might need
Each ship is different, and it’s important to keep in touch with the organisation after booking to get the best understanding of the set-up on board. They should all be able to provide you with a kit list to help you prepare.
Some ships provide hammocks for sleeping while others have bunks; most will provide you with the bedding you’ll need, although some smaller boats may ask you to bring a sleeping bag. Most training ships will also have sets of foul weather gear and waterproof boots for you to borrow for your time onboard.
All the safety gear essential for your voyage will be provided by the ship.
There are several things that I always take on my sailing adventures, but things to keep me warm, dry, and comfortable are the first to go in my bag.
Foul weather gear. I have a Helly Hansen sailing jacket and salopettes. Fisherman-style oilskins are great for keeping you dry, but lack the insulation of sailing gear, so you’ll need additional warm layers underneath.
Waterproof boots. Dry, warm feet make life better, without question. Most ships also insist on closed-toe shoes on deck, and sturdy soles are better for climbing in the rigging, so I usually pack a pair of trail shoes too.
Windproof jacket. It’s always a bit cooler at sea, and a lightweight windproof jacket will make watches more comfortable when there’s not quite the need for full foul weather gear.
Hat, scarf, and gloves. Night watches get chilly, especially when you’re not moving around much. A hat and scarf or buff keep out the cold and are easy to take off again when the sun comes up. I don’t like wearing sailing gloves to handle ropes, but warm gloves make steering more comfortable when it’s windy.
Sunglasses and sunblock. Sunlight still passes through cloud cover, and it gets reflected back off the water, so you get a much higher exposure than usual. I use factor 30 sunblock minimum, more usually factor 50 (I’m very pale and Scottish), and wear sunglasses most of the time. I also take a stick that I can slip in my pocket to reapply regularly to my lips, nose and ears while I work on deck. Use a cord to secure your glasses, especially if you’re keen to climb in the rigging.
Towel. For shore leave on a deserted island or drying off after a mind-blowing swim hundreds of miles from land. It’s best to leave the fluffy towels at home and find one that’s quick-drying and/or lightweight, like my hammam towel.
Headtorch. An important item for moving around the ship on night watches. One with a red light is recommended to preserve night vision.
There’s also a few additional things that can make life on board more comfortable.
Refillable water bottle. The combination of sunlight, wind and salt air is really dehydrating. While at sea you get an idea of the scale of the plastic problem in the world’s oceans, so taking a refillable bottle is just a small step you can make to help.
Sleep mask and earplugs. Sleep is so important, especially if you’re waking up for the midnight to 4am watch. I find that silicon earplugs are more effective than synthetic, blocking out more of the surrounding sound, and a buff does a great job doubling as an eye mask.
Power bank. Not all ships have a 24-hour power supply for charging devices, so a power bank will provide the juice needed to keep your phone, camera, kindle, e-cigarette and so on from running out just when you need them most. An international adapter is essential if the ship’s home port is in a different zone to where you purchased your electronics.
Something to read. A kindle, tablet, or a real book; something to get lost in between the busy periods on board. A book has the added benefit that you can swap it with others in the crew once you finish. Try one of these suggestions.
A journal. I always keep a travel journal, and it’s a wonderful way to record and reflect on your experiences. Write, sketch, and note information from the ships’ log to add to your own memories of the voyage.
Travel insurance. Look for one that specifically covers tall ship or offshore sailing.
A knife. Sailors should always carry a knife (according to a colleague, a sailor without a knife is just a spectator). Just be sure to leave it out of your hand luggage if you have to take a flight to meet your ship.
Things you enjoy. Knitting needles and yarn, a sketchbook, twine for practising knots, playing cards, binoculars and a wildlife guide. Something to do in your downtime.
For many voyages it’s not a problem to pick things up locally in ports on the way, letting you cut down to just a few essentials in your backpack. On longer passages you may be at sea for a considerable length of time between ports, with little chance to pick up things you might forget, so products need careful consideration.
All but the smallest of ships have showers on board, however the availability of water may be limited on longer voyages by the size of water tanks or the capacity of the water maker. I pack a reusable cleansing cloth and bar soap with my usual toiletries to keep fresh, rather than single-use wipes that result in more waste.
Although washing water can be restricted seawater is abundant, and I love to swim, so a leave-in conditioner spray keeps my hair manageable between washes, protecting it from the salt and sun.
When it comes to sanitary items, it’s important to think carefully about the products you bring. Waste management is an important matter onboard a ship, and nothing should be flushed in the toilets (sanitary waste really should not be flushed at home either). If you use applicator tampons, then they should have non-plastic applicators, which are easier to dispose of, and don’t contribute to plastic waste generated every day.
Comfort moving around the ship is your main priority, so take things you feel good in. It’s always more exposed out at sea, so ensure you pack long-sleeved shirts or sweaters and long trousers, even if you’re heading for a sunshine destination to meet the ship.
Take a set of thermal tights and a long-sleeved top for bluewater passages and colder climes. Even in the height of summer, it can be chilly around the British and Irish Isles.
Flip flops or sliders are great for below decks, going back and forth between showers and bunks, chilling out in the saloon or bar, and shore visits to the beach. I usually live in my flip flops, but many ships discourage open shoes and bare feet on deck.
If you’re going to be working on the ship, helping out with the repairs and maintenance that keep the vessel going, be sure to pack clothes you don’t mind getting dirty. There’s always a good chance that a job might involve paint, rust treatment, tar or grease. Some ships may also ask you to bring your own safety footwear for this kind of work.
This is what I can’t do without, but is there anything you think I’ve missed?
What do you consider essential for a sailing trip?
Let me know in the comments below.
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*Maybe enough for a coffee. Not enough for a yacht.