Monsoon Dervish on ETSY

It only took a month and a half of pleading, nagging, cajoling…

Kris finally opened his own ETSY shop.

Can you believe it?! Oh, he still grumbles about it, but hey, at least it’s up, and you can now purchase physical copies of his four books, as well as the PDF file of his Manual of Sextant Navigation, directly from him.

www.MonsoonDervishBooks.ETSY.com

 

Dear Anthony : In the aftermath of a dirty little media scrum

Yesterday I found a dozen facebook Messenger requests from people I didn’t know …all claiming to be “glad to hear that Kris is safe” and then wanting me to call and “answer a few questions about his ‘amazing voyage'”. They were pushy af, insincere, asked loaded questions…but didn’t know how to listen to the answers. They were annoying, to say the least. I left my phone and laptop downstairs (I am supremely capable of ignoring a ringing phone…it is one of my greatest pleasures and strengths), and went to practice oblique pen calligraphy.

When they couldn’t get hold of either me or Kris, they trawled the internet for every little thing they could find about him, took what they could use, presented it—naturally— out of context, misquoted, and made shit up to fill in the gaps in their reports and create an aura of verisimilitude. The title everyone seemed to settle on was coined by the Maui News, repeated by The Guardian, and this of course set off a case of echolalia among all the other news sites. It read:

“Disoriented” Australian man Kris Larsen rescued in homemade boat off Hawaii”

It’s not important, in the end, what was written, what was true, what was untrue…the reports—even tarted up—were only moderately interesting to the internet, and activity faded away by evening. Internet news reporters are trained to take stories without substance, research, information or nutrients, pump it with steroids, prop it up and get it online within hours. Quantity, not quality, is their fare. But never mind all this, everyone knows that reporters are not journalists. What I want to share here is this:

This morning I found a copy of this letter in my Inbox. It had been sent by Dene Waring, a reader of The Age, to Anthony Colangelo…the byline for the article on the news site. His open-minded and intelligent approach—well-versed in the history of sailing and courteous to the reporter—from someone who clearly “gets it”, prompted my grateful reply, and I’ve included both our e-mails in this post, because they give me hope that not everyone “out there” is a 2-minute opinionated dunderhead.


Dear Anthony,

I read with interest your article “‘Disoriented’ Australian man Kris Larsen rescued in homemade boat off Hawaii”, and wish to broaden the perspectives expressed and inferred. I should add I had not heard of Mr Larsen before this morning.

In an industrial first-world culture that depends upon a large number of conformists to support its infrastructure that in turn support its conformists, we have come to hold up as heroes a small handful of intrepid adventurers – but not, it seems, during their own lifetime. However, there are exceptions in the sailing world of world sailors, such as Joshua Slocum, Lin and Larry Pardey, Robin Graham, Bernard Moitessier, and many others. My wife and I have also met more of whom the world will never hear during our own modest ocean voyages – those sailors want it that way. It seems Kris Larsen may be one of those quiet adventurers who has proven, with every one of his honest ocean-crossing miles over many years, that he is an intrepid man who sails under his own flag – the hard way – and thereby keeps alive that unique quality of human nature that drives the strongest of us to attempt great adventures with no absolute guarantees. Indeed, what great adventure would be a great adventure, if it also guaranteed being home by 5:30pm for dinner?

There are some issues with your article and its premise that you may find warrant (what I hope will be largely constructive) critique from some of your readers, which I also offer below. The article will also garner a large number of comments calling out Mr Larsen as “an idiot”. Those comments will come from those who are inflamed by the emotive angle of your piece. They may not research their subject before making their judgements.

It may have been a more interesting story both to write, and to read, if the context of Mr Larsen’s voyage had been explored and put forward. He appears to be an experienced sailor who chooses to circle the globe the way it has been traversed for millennia – on its own terms, without the assistance of such recent advents such as GPS and long-range communications.

Let us examine those key elements of the article that will elicit the most emotive responses from your readers: “Disoriented”. “Rescued”. “Homemade boat”. “Mr Larsen’s boat did not contain communication equipment, electronic navigation instruments, an engine or a toilet and his sails were in poor condition.”

“Disoriented”: Are we talking about knowing one’s exact position on the planet to within a metre, or are we talking about the strangeness of the first words one utters in the first human contact for many weeks or months? If the former, navigating as all master mariners have over the centuries with a sextant and a timepiece – Captain Cook comes to mind, but let’s not go into Christopher Columbus, poor man had no reliable timepiece – is a challenge many of us are not adept enough to be able to perform. I myself was required to demonstrate that I could navigate using traditional methods as part of New Zealand’s Cat 1 regulations when departing overseas on our own vessel; I had to strain considerably to demonstrate this just the once, and from then on depended on the U.S.’s military GPS satellites and prayed that war would not break out, thereby leading the U.S. to scramble the signals for civilian use. If that happened I would have been helpless and require “rescuing”. Mr Larsen in the same situation would have just carried on his way, undaunted by the loss of complex systems that depend on the actions of others.

“Rescued”: Asking for a tow into harbour when you have navigated across the Pacific to within 6km of shore does not always constitute “rescue”. Almost all engineless vessels for centuries have been towed into harbour by pilot boats as a matter of course – this is prudent seamanship, and still applies to most cargo and passenger vessels. In modern times, Lin and Larry Pardey (http://www.landlpardey.com) voyaged the world in their series of engineless yachts and were towed into almost every harbour, including Australia’s; they are regaled for their choices and their voyages and have received many achievement awards.

“Homemade boat”: As any world-girdling explorer, stunt-person or cave diver will tell you, you must be responsible for your own equipment and its preparation. There is likely no factory-made, mass-produced vessel that would be suitable for Mr Larsen’s purposes, and let us remember that his life depends upon the integrity and the fitness for purpose of his craft. He appears to have designed and hand-built a craft that has successfully taken him around the world. How many people can claim that badge of honour? The answer lies upon the library shelves, with a small but valiant range of books describing the achievement. Please do read Joshua Slocum’s “Sailing Alone around the World” (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/6317/6317-h/6317-h.htm) – the true story of an astounding human being who stands tall as the first in his field to prepare his own craft and sail the world.

“Mr Larsen’s boat did not contain communication equipment, electronic navigation instruments, an engine or a toilet and his sails were in poor condition.”: Research into the nature of Mr Larsen’s epic undertaking and the manner in which he has performed it may show that he has wisely chosen the most dependable technologies and methods that have been proven throughout the ages. Indeed, if he had made himself dependent upon modern communications and navigation equipment (which often fails upon small craft due to salt-water damage etc and requires flawless performance of battery, wiring and charging systems), he may not have succeeded as far as he already has across many tens of thousands of ocean miles.

Likewise, engines on small vessels are disproportionately heavy and space-consuming (space that is better used for essential supplies) and often they are used for only a few hours – if at all – when circling the globe over many years. After all, you can always ask for a tow for the last few metres if you really need it? In this case, at your own peril it seems – you will be judged.

As for the reference to no toilet, a marine toilet (“head”) is a system of flaps, valves and underwater through-hull fittings that regularly fail and can sink a vessel very effectively – ask any marine insurance company. Nothing is safer or more wisely chosen in Mr Larsen’s case than a bucket; please refer to the hard-won wisdom of such circumnavigators as the aforementioned Slocum and Pardey, who extol the “bucket and chuck-it” approach themselves. However of course, if one is pottering about in-shore, it may be more polite and would certainly comply with local regulations to use a marine waste management storage system, but that is an entirely different matter.

Indeed, ask any experienced hard-nosed world cruiser – Mr Larsen seems to have made all the right choices, but he may yet be held up as a reckless fool. The fuller picture may reveal an experienced, intrepid adventurer of integrity and independence who has already achieved epic voyages with a minimum or no outside assistance – who among us is capable of these feats of human endeavour? Therein lies a much bigger and braver story to be told.

I put to you, are these not the very people we – eventually – hold up as heroes?

Kind Regards,
Dene Waring | Creative Director
www.earthstory.com.au
www.linkedin.com/in/denewaring


Dear Mr. Waring,

Thank you so much for this lovely piece of writing, it was a beautiful thing to wake up to and read with my morning coffee. I have forwarded it along to Kris as I’m sure it will gladden him, and probably give him a few new ways in which to express himself (English is only his fifth language. He is perfectly competent, but not eloquent) should he ever need to ‘defend’ himself against any authorities who might try to prevent him from leaving Hawaii on the grounds of being incapable of sailing.

You absolutely “get it”, and this gives me hope that others who may have read yesterday’s little breakout of sneering news reports got it, too. Not that it matters whether the fickle cheerers-and-jeerers of the internet get it or not…heavens, no!

Kris is one of those unusual people who refuses to surrender his dreams, no matter how daunting they may seem at the outset or how much society disapproves of them. He’s had to fight his way through so many things in his life—not just to fulfill big dreams, but to enjoy ordinary privileges that others take for granted, such as being a legal citizen in a democratic country—that he’s acquired an interesting set of survival tactics and characteristics, among which are the calculated elimination of anything remotely superfluous to the goal or purpose (his personal interpretation of Occam’s razor), the readiness to put up with the inconveniences that such a pared-down lifestyle entails, and the tough skin one needs to face the onslaught of criticism that the world is quick to heap upon someone who simply sticks to his own path.

Fortunately, yesterday’s media scrum has had no impact on Kris, whatsoever. He is engrossed in stocking up on food and water, the authorities have granted him 10 days waived visa privileges (he only asked for 10…if he wants more, they told him, “Just ask.”) and weather maps for the next leg of the trip. What others say he can or can’t do isn’t his problem…in fact, he quite enjoys playing the “gormless idiot” in the presence of scandalised, angry “proper sailors”. It makes them feel good about themselves, they pronounce him a lost cause, and swagger off with a ripping good story to tell The Boys back at the yacht club…leaving him alone to get on with his plans. This is preferable to being “Likeable”, perhaps eliciting some condescending pity, and having the guy install himself as mentor and advisor, getting in the way while Kris is trying to work and get his boat back out on the ocean as quickly as possible! Mention these men to him, half an hour after they’ve gone, and his eyes take a minute to focus: “What men?” It’s as if the thing had never happened.

Of course, there have also been some very kind people at each port. Regardless of what they privately thought of the boat and its skipper, they withheld judgement and took the time to get to know Kris a little bit, and found him to be a man of intelligence and integrity. Also, they helped in very practical, concrete ways: shared a lift to the supermarket, a quick tow to the wharf in a crowded or windless harbour, tips on where to find things or how to get into the city from the marina. So much more valuable and appreciated than any lecture on sailing!

Unless someone tries to prevent him from sailing onward, he will be quite content, living in his head, making his plans, ignoring the internet. The world will think what it thinks, but you are right: whatever anyone says of his chosen path, he has just sailed most of the way round the world—from Australia to Hawaii—has spent the past 4 years exploring Africa (on bicycle) and South America (on foot), has acquired fluent Spanish as his 8th language, and collected a treasure trove of stories, friends, and unique experiences from all the countries visited along the way. On a budget, I might add, of a few hundred dollars a month. Thanks to a home-built boat that requires no maintenance he can’t do, himself, using materials that can be found in even the smallest Third-World towns, that can take a pounding, and that isn’t worth anything to thieves or pirates but the scrap steel it is made of.

He is that rare thing in these hobbled times: a free man.

I am so grateful that you seem to have intuited all of this—reading with a desire to understand, rather than to judge or label—with nothing but the internet as your source of information…a good indication of the narrow-mindedness and mean-spiritedness of yesterday’s twaddle-mongers, who had access to the same information you did, and managed to do no more than spin straw into horse shit.

With fond regards from us both,
Nat (and Kris)

Don’t let go of that thread…

what ships are built for

The Way It Is

There’s a thread you follow. It goes among
things that change. But it doesn’t change.
People wonder about what you are pursuing.
You have to explain about the thread.
But it is hard for others to see.
While you hold it you can’t get lost.
Tragedies happen; people get hurt
or die; and you suffer and get old.
Nothing you do can stop time’s unfolding.
You don’t ever let go of the thread.

By William Stafford, from The Way It Is, 1998

Besides my creative life (which keeps me sane and relevant to myself) there is only Kris, really. Everything and everyone else can fall away and I might suffer a period of regret or pain or loss, but I would get over it quicker and with less trauma than you’d expect, because he stands opposite the sorrow, and balances me out. He is my ball of thread: that wonderful fairytale device that the heroine lets unwind before her, and that leads her through the world. I was an insufferable goose when he met me…I owe him for who I am today. He gave me both the space I needed to open fully, and a scrupulously honest mirror with which to see myself. And because I wanted so much to be worthy of him, I pushed to go beyond the garden-variety mediocrity of my early self.

Today he set sail for South Africa…a dream that’s been in the works for two years. When he gets there, and as soon as I’ve tied up a few of my loose ends here (two exhibitions, and my citizenship, basically), I will fly to catch up with him in either Durban or Brazil (depends on how long my loose ends take).

So my lover, my greatest teacher and my best friend all left together on one sailboat. The ball of thread is out of sight, and stretching ominously. The pull to be with him is tremendous. Things that I thought were important, last month, or felt I couldn’t possibly leave undone, suddenly seem like so much insignificant mucking around. Over the next few months I will slowly cut myself free of the ties here, and let him reel me in.

I didn’t get any pictures of Kris leaving, this time, so have re-used some shots from two years ago, taken the morning he left for S.E.Asia (he was gone four months).

swallowed by the fog

He was intentionally vague about his departure…didn’t want any parties, last minute well-wishers, or the generally curious trying to catch up for one last handshake, lame joke, or to ask the same dozen questions he has answered, over and over again, since he first built his steel Chinese-junk-rigged sailboat and started sailing around without the usual engine, GPS, EPIRB, digital charts, radio, solar panels, water-maker, or toilet. As you can imagine, some people find it hard to grapple with that, or with the idea of man at the mercy of the sea and no thing to rely upon but himself. But getting away from mankind is what attracted Kris to sailing, in the first place, and he goes out there to be alone with the great ineffable force that some call The Universe, Being, or God.

On his Monsoon Dervish website, Kris bids you all farewell:

“I’ll be turning 60 later this year. I’ve been working for a living for the past 40 years and I am tired of working. Humans are the only animals who work for a living. All other creatures live for a living. And I still have five years to go till my old age pension. I have decided I am going sailing for those five years. I will live for a living, like all other creatures in the world.”

Bon voyage, my love, and I’ll see you in Durban…or Paraiba!

Kris is in Darwin!

Kehaar at the Stokes Hill Wharf

He’s sitting at the Stokes Hill Wharf, waiting for Customs to clear him in. (Sorry about the posterized looking shot…from where I am shooting it’s a long way off, cropping in to make the boat larger has resulted in really poor resolution.) But it’s Kehaar, alright, and I can’t wait to see my beloved Monsoon Dervish tonight!

Reading Monsoon Dervish…

DSCF1376_2

Started another painting this morning…it went pretty quickly and I managed to get quite a lot of the tougher bits done by the time the sun was setting in the West and I couldn’t see to paint anymore.

The picture above is just a detail…with my exhibit coming up, I have got to stop showing every finished painting on my blog, or there will be nothing left to surprise visitors to the opening night with!

Why, yes, I am being coy…there will be paintings you haven’t seen yet, so if you live in Darwin and are reading this blog, you want to get your butt over to the Woods Street Gallery, DVAA in the City on November 4, Friday at 6 PM. In the other gallery will be the super talented artists of Jackson’s Drawing Supplies, and you KNOW they’re always making amazing stuff (and god I envy that they work inside a yummy art supplies shop!) so this is a double-show you don’t want to miss!

*whew!* Okay, spiel done, back to this painting…

The reason I had to post even just a detail is that I am so pleased and proud of this “book made of ocean and sky”…with a tiny Kehaar (that’s the boat Kris has gone sailing away on) pushing through the waves. I also love how the waves spill off the book and onto an area of my writing desk. I struggled with this bit, because it was pretty much fantasy, unlike the other objects, which I could set in front of me and draw studies from. I have to say it has turned out almost as good as I imagined it, and that’s very unusual for me, so I am squealingly pleased. The book could only be Kris’ self-published Monsoon Dervish, an account of the 11 or 12 years he went sailing, from Darwin to Madagascar, Zanzibar, Sri Lanka, Hong Kong, Japan, Vladivostok, Pusan, Sarawak, and The Philippines, where we met.

I listened to Sting’s album Symphonicities while painting this…and got a shiver everytime I heard The Pirate’s Bride (because  I am missing my seafaring love, as always…you know I wouldn’t be painting something like this if I weren’t!)