Welcome to The Chronicles of Gypsy Soul
June 2008
Ben is done with his circumnavigation. The story is here.
Photos will be updated within a week including Thailand to Maldives, to Seychelles, to Madagascar, to Africa, to Brazil and throught the Carribbean.... The other half of the world!
January 2005
The very first book I read was about a boy named Paka who lived on a South Pacific island. I was six years old, he was ten. He became my first hero, and is still today.
The story of Paka wove around the invention of sail craft in the south seas. A young determined fisherman living on a tropical isle, Paka paddled his dugout beyond the reef against the sage advise of the older boys & men, so that he might prove himself a man by providing food for his family. His dugout, at the end of the day full of fish, was too unwieldy for his small stature to command. Ultimately he had to discard most of his catch to make it home, only to be disenchanted as the others paddled shoreward laughing in their ritualistic daily race homeward across the reef. That night Paka had a dream.
In his dream a great wind blew on shore & caught the sleeping mat he slept upon, pulling it from under him. He chased the mat across the island until it caught in a small tree, bending the tree to the wind’s strength. Paka awoke remembering his dream and inspiration arose within him to harness the power of wind. Again he went beyond the reef in his dugout to fish, the men’s laughter ringing in his ears. Late in the afternoon, as the sun was setting & with his dugout once again full of fish, the other men began their customary race to shore, passing the boy, offering to carry his fish in good humor.
Paka began rigging a special shaped mat he had woven under the guidance of his grandmother onto a stout pole. Soon he was passing the other fishermen, the wind applying its strength to his sail-mat, and effortless as a bird he sailed over the reef. With each fisherman he passed his smile grew until he arrived first ashore with his catch. Paka was now regaled as a man, a man who became legend, the first sailor of the south sea isles, and my first hero.
This chronicle begins in 2004, however my journey aboard the 42 foot cutter Gypsy Soul began 4 years earlier from a derelict boat yard near the Mexican border of South Texas. Eventually I will edit the early years of my missives to mom and friends, which I faithfully began upon the embarkation of a childhood dream. For entertainment’s sake to all sailors, my foolhardy and reckless early years, from lake sailing armchair circumnavigator, to Pacific crossing single-hander, will hopefully make this site by late 2006. I must admit though, I remain foolhardy and reckless.
Gypsysoulsailing.com begins in New Zealand, with 27 countries and thirty-thousand miles already in the old Soul’s wake. My faithful Gypsy Soul, a 42 foot Tayana, had been dry-docked for the past 9 months. After some land travels in New Zealand, Alaska and visiting family and friends for a month home in Texas, I finally returned to old tub and spent a couple months fitting her to re-launch then provisioned for remote cruising in the South Pacific. I’d missed the ‘ole soul’ dearly & had contrived a sail-plan skirting the cyclone season to far flung mid-pacific island countries few sailors visit. It was a man-plan, to be partnered with an Aussi soul brother named David, AKA Dashing Davo. 2004 was a year off the path, sailing a total of 10,000 miles from New Zealand up north to the equator, then west, and south again down to Australia, stopping in 6 Pacific Nations, some 35 islands and atolls along the way. We visited some of the most remote cultures on earth, places where stone age melded with industrial 21st century only 70 years ago in the form of Imperial Japan, where just a hundred years ago cannibals and headhunters ate zealous missionaries soon after they landed and religion could not toehold, a place surprisingly enough, where Americans are today appreciated for their past deeds of liberation during WWII Pacific campaigns.
For a moments pomposity I must also admit my density, as I had no idea, of the 250 million Americans, only a hand full of single men in their mid 30’s do what I had dreamed to do, that is to sail the globe traveling for 8-10 years as a free roaming adventure seeker. I had no idea the uniqueness of my wanderlust was what one in perhaps several million would attempt, I had never given those odds any consideration at all, it took someone else to point it out to me, and only just recently. I’ve been encouraged to pontificate in some self-help bullshit about focusing on ones dreams and not loosing oneself in adult distractions such as egotistic accumulations, career wealth, pride, and getting past the grind of the average hyper-consuming capitalist convenience abuser. I‘ll spare you that bull. I grew up Joe Schmoe, the 20-something proverbial ne'er-do-well, who eventually stayed focused, pinched pennies, and set sail at age 36. So rather than embellishing my past, trying to pull someone into a “you could do it too” mentality, I’d rather admit my average-ness and forewarn anyone who reads this, that if some find this site entertaining I might hit my audience up for a donation so I can keep doing-near-well. Maybe you’ll like some photo I’ve taken as a background for your computer and PayPal me 5 bucks for the cause, maybe I‘ll write something inspiring or humorous and you’ll want to donate some change to keep up the faith, or so I can get home to see family, or buy a new sail. Maybe I’ll politically incorrectly offend you and you’ll want you’ll want the money back (a real possibility). If I write a book, I hope you’ll buy it, if I offer the Gypsy Soul for charter, perhaps you’ll sail around with me, if I find myself in a foreign jail (another real possibility) I hope someone will send lawyers, guns and money.
As mentioned before, my missives are meant to keep my mother and family from worry, and to share my escape to sail around the world with some sense of humor. Over time I found myself taking in experiences differently, being more observant and interactive with writing in mind. Later I shared my “Hi Mom” emails unedited with all friends who wanted to know more about this weird path I had chosen. Eventually there came to be several hundred people, many of whom I know not, caught up in the forwarding loop of internet cyberspace. I’ve given up my pride; shame and privacy with my missives, all can read my email journal now with GypsySoulSailing.com. I no longer remember travels by photo’s taken, but as inspired writings noted fresh in my mind, many times within hours of the experience or many hand written notes compiled later. My photography is now an accompaniment to writing about people, places, and experiences, photo’s merely proof of how big that frigging fish really was, how beautiful the islands, majestic the sunset, or handsome the island girl. My friends agree the photos are secondary, they read first & see later when I‘m home for a visit. This is how this website is presented in its ongoing documentary for 2005-06 as I plan to sail the Great Barrier Reef of Australia, and west to South East Asia, much will be missives first, photos later. 2004 is a place for the site to begin, photos included. Read on if you like..."The wind is free, so should everything else be".
ben edelstein
