Tuesday, February 8, 2011
Sunday, February 6, 2011
Solo Circumnavigation
Solo Circumnavigation is my ultimate dream and I have been trying for some years to attract sponsors.
I am sharing with you all the sponsorship proposal for the circumnavigation
So spread the world and help me achieve my dream
Sailor of the month – January 2011
Gaurav Shinde (EMESA) - Sailor of the month
Hyderabad: While all the youth sailors in the country are trying hard in fleet racing, Gaurav Shinde has already set new heights in offshore racing. Winning gold in the recently concluded offshore race has made him the only sailor to have won both the individual and overall legs of the offshore nationals. He had won the first leg of the race in its first edition in 2008.
This 24 year old high sea explorer from Google is also the youngest sailor the offshore championships have seen so far. Apart from his offshore national title this year, he holds two national titles in lightning class and is currently on theYAI events committee.
Reproduced from www.sailingtimesindia.com
I too have a dream
We are all human beings, and we all have dreams. This is mine. I'm not averse to taking risks.
But, when you're alone, just you and the ocean... it's the whole of your universe. It's totally indifferent. Its there waiting for you. If you make a slip, then imagination is danger. It's no longer about heroes and adventures at sea. It's about isolation and the delicate mechanism of the mind.
There is no greater challenge. The first part, down to the south Atlantic, is fairly kind, but then your troubles start. One you round the Cape of Good Hope, you are into the Roaring 40's, those endless band of storms that circle the world. Then, thousands of miles later, you pass south of Australia, New Zealand, and across the rest of the Pacific, to Cape Horn. The seas become narrow there, and as they fall together, they grow wilder. Then up past the Falkland Islands, cross the equator, back into the North Atlantic and you are on your way to where you started, on your way to Les Sables-d'Olonne.
Back in 1968, this was something a human hadn't yet attempted to do. First of all, no one knew if a boat could take it. Secondly, there was considerable doubt if a human could take it. Psychiatrists said that a human would go mad if they tried to do it. What we're talking about is months of loneliness. This opinion hasn't changed much after many decades.
I think there are some similarities between a kid who wants to become a astronaut and me. And I suppose he would look upon me the same way. You know, we're basically in a small capsule, we're both setting off to do something extremely dangerous. Anyone who goes to sea and says they don't feel fear is a liar. Of course you're frightened. I learnt this two years ago, when I sailed a small wooden boat to distances then unknown to such boats. Last time when I left home, my mother dropped me to the train station. She was not very happy with what I was setting out to do. It's always a case of having to sacrifice one thing for another. You have to choose between you life, your family and a woman... and it's got to be your own life, hasn't it? without hesitation.
You can't imagine how intense you live, how good it is to be on your own. You climb up and
you look back at your surroundings. There is the sea, the wind, the sound of the water... above all, the beauty of the boat surging forward. You look out on that wild landscape stretching away as far as the eye can see, streaks of spume blown down the face of those immense waves and froth-white foam sending a great flurry of spray and heave water all over everything. And it's all tremendously exciting, and a tremendous challenge, of course. On your own you can discover who you really are. The thing about sailing solo is, it puts a great deal of pressure on the man. It explores his weakness with a penetration that few other occupations can manage.
All along the journey, Cape Horn becomes fixed in your mind. Once I'm around Cape Horn, I
can turn north. And I can get out of that bastard of a place. Why call it that? 'Cause it is a bastard of a place, not other word can describe the place. Imagine yourself in something about the size of a small truck, and coming towards you is a 12-story high building. That is the size of the waves down there. The great cape has a soul with very soft, very violent shadows and colors. A soul as smooth as a child's and as hard as a criminal's. And that is why all my kind go there. One forgets everything, seeing only the play of the boat with the sea, the play of the sea around the boat, leaving aside everything not essential to that game. One has to be careful though, not to go further than necessary to the depths of the game. And that is the hard part... not going too far.
Around the world without stopping... months alone, completely alone, with all that it entails.
Everything revolves around that word, “alone”... the nervous tension, the food, the exhaustion, your whole outlook. Things which matter at the start, don't matter at all. The rules change by the time you finish. The rules within you change. It's no longer about the money or the fame. I think it's inevitable that one will be a very different person. Somebody who faces everyday as though it is a new danger and a new feeling of excitement. Anyone who wants to do it for the money or for the prestige is going to break his neck.
This is my dream. This is what I want to be doing. They say “sailors lack the ability to dream
and that's what makes up for their extra-ordinary courage.” I chose to dream and I am willing to do my utmost to fulfill my dream, however tough achieving it may be. This is my dream and one day I want to be one of those "marvelous range of mad yachtsman aboard their strange craft"
But, when you're alone, just you and the ocean... it's the whole of your universe. It's totally indifferent. Its there waiting for you. If you make a slip, then imagination is danger. It's no longer about heroes and adventures at sea. It's about isolation and the delicate mechanism of the mind.
There is no greater challenge. The first part, down to the south Atlantic, is fairly kind, but then your troubles start. One you round the Cape of Good Hope, you are into the Roaring 40's, those endless band of storms that circle the world. Then, thousands of miles later, you pass south of Australia, New Zealand, and across the rest of the Pacific, to Cape Horn. The seas become narrow there, and as they fall together, they grow wilder. Then up past the Falkland Islands, cross the equator, back into the North Atlantic and you are on your way to where you started, on your way to Les Sables-d'Olonne.
Back in 1968, this was something a human hadn't yet attempted to do. First of all, no one knew if a boat could take it. Secondly, there was considerable doubt if a human could take it. Psychiatrists said that a human would go mad if they tried to do it. What we're talking about is months of loneliness. This opinion hasn't changed much after many decades.
I think there are some similarities between a kid who wants to become a astronaut and me. And I suppose he would look upon me the same way. You know, we're basically in a small capsule, we're both setting off to do something extremely dangerous. Anyone who goes to sea and says they don't feel fear is a liar. Of course you're frightened. I learnt this two years ago, when I sailed a small wooden boat to distances then unknown to such boats. Last time when I left home, my mother dropped me to the train station. She was not very happy with what I was setting out to do. It's always a case of having to sacrifice one thing for another. You have to choose between you life, your family and a woman... and it's got to be your own life, hasn't it? without hesitation.
You can't imagine how intense you live, how good it is to be on your own. You climb up and
you look back at your surroundings. There is the sea, the wind, the sound of the water... above all, the beauty of the boat surging forward. You look out on that wild landscape stretching away as far as the eye can see, streaks of spume blown down the face of those immense waves and froth-white foam sending a great flurry of spray and heave water all over everything. And it's all tremendously exciting, and a tremendous challenge, of course. On your own you can discover who you really are. The thing about sailing solo is, it puts a great deal of pressure on the man. It explores his weakness with a penetration that few other occupations can manage.
All along the journey, Cape Horn becomes fixed in your mind. Once I'm around Cape Horn, I
can turn north. And I can get out of that bastard of a place. Why call it that? 'Cause it is a bastard of a place, not other word can describe the place. Imagine yourself in something about the size of a small truck, and coming towards you is a 12-story high building. That is the size of the waves down there. The great cape has a soul with very soft, very violent shadows and colors. A soul as smooth as a child's and as hard as a criminal's. And that is why all my kind go there. One forgets everything, seeing only the play of the boat with the sea, the play of the sea around the boat, leaving aside everything not essential to that game. One has to be careful though, not to go further than necessary to the depths of the game. And that is the hard part... not going too far.
Around the world without stopping... months alone, completely alone, with all that it entails.
Everything revolves around that word, “alone”... the nervous tension, the food, the exhaustion, your whole outlook. Things which matter at the start, don't matter at all. The rules change by the time you finish. The rules within you change. It's no longer about the money or the fame. I think it's inevitable that one will be a very different person. Somebody who faces everyday as though it is a new danger and a new feeling of excitement. Anyone who wants to do it for the money or for the prestige is going to break his neck.
This is my dream. This is what I want to be doing. They say “sailors lack the ability to dream
and that's what makes up for their extra-ordinary courage.” I chose to dream and I am willing to do my utmost to fulfill my dream, however tough achieving it may be. This is my dream and one day I want to be one of those "marvelous range of mad yachtsman aboard their strange craft"
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