Dear Readers: Here is a blog that was written a fortnight ago but got hung up in the outbox of Khulula’s laptop. A little belated, but no less applicable! Enjoy….

Chilly sunshine, coastal fog banks, wetsuits, west coast fires, the crackle and smell of burning cedar, misty surf sessions, hoodies, salmon feasts and rain gear..

This is the new and latest reality of sailing aboard Khulula. In an ironic reversal, Khulula’s freezer and oven have switched their roles as the appliance most suited to the ambient environment. The freezer makes ice in less than two hours (never possible in the tropics) and the oven barely makes it above 400 degrees (never a problem in the tropics). Where there were once rashgards and boardshorts adorning Khulula’s shrouds, there are now wetsuits and thermal tops. Her decks are no longer covered by recently used masks and snorkels; these have been replaced by booties, gloves and crab traps manufactured from discarded beach plastic. The cabin and berth fans have ceased their tropical hum, and whose use has been relegated to clearing the smell of burnt toast. Food lasts longer in the fruit and vegetable hammocks. Tea drinking has achieved a whole new level.

Sunrises over Sitka spruce trees are no less stunning that those over tropical palms, but fewer are observed. Khulula’s cold and dewey morning decks remain consistently untrodden until the day has warmed somewhat, the crew preferring to remain snuggled in fleece blankets until someone else fills the cabin with the aroma of freshly bewing coffee. This coffee is invariably brewed by the person unable to delay the night time bath room calls any longer, and has been forced from the bunk by the power of nature. Gone are the sweaty and sleepless nights, replaced by delicious hours of blowing Z’s into chilly night air, wrapped in a cocoon of warmth.

It is good to be home…

I have been back on board Khulula for 10 or so days now, and these are the musings of someone who last was aboard in southern Mexico. in that time I have become a father to baby Dorian, and my outlook on life has undeniably been altered by this lens of fantastic new responsibility. A part of this is pondering the place to call home, the place to spend the formative years of our children’s lives. We live in a absolutely stunning land, this land of Canada, a fact that has been demonstrated and affirmed over the past couple of weeks. We have surfed empty perfect waves, walked in the in brilliant summer sunshine on remote beaches, smelt the kelp beds, eaten the salmon. Canada is huge and empty and undeniably beautiful. It is teeming with life, accepting, and positively edgy in it’s demands for surviving the raw elements – mist, cold and rain.

It is good to be home…

What is that I hear? Bryson reporting surf ahead. Must go and investigate, and partake in what must be the last surf session from on board S/V Khulula. And what better location that Sombrio beach, the place that originally planted the seeds of the OceanGybe expedition? Whoop!