Seabird Tales ⛵️ Passaia - Gloucester

Crossing through the Bay of Biscay aboard the mighty Grayhound

We depart from sunny Passaia right into the Bay of Biscay.

The change of scenery is quite dramatic. Only a few days earlier we entered the port through the steep valley full of cheering people on a sunny windless day. Today, we're all wearing foul weather gear, the sails are reefed and it's pouring rain. With what will turn out to be 666 Nautical Miles to go, another voyage begins.

The vibe on board is completely different. With the change of captain, cook, and most of the crew, I have to relearn how to be a part of the Grayhound, which will be our entire world for the next week. The new combination feels like a good mix. And I'm delighted for the shift from the relentless rhythm of 4 hours on - 4 hours off into 4 hours on - 8 hours off.

The night covers the sky and the wind pulls us North-West above the continental ridge.

The new watch system is fantastic. More rest means more energy to learn sailing, the boat, variety of skills and side-skills, as well as more space for creative projects. The feeling of missing me when I'm at sea from the previous trip disappears completely.

I also bring out the Infinity Squares and invite the crew to co-create a visual record of our journey. Squares have been my core daily journaling practice for 7 years and yet I only experimented with it in a group context once - during my Stewardsheep at the Traditional Dream Factory back in 2022. Back then I drew 100 squares, one for each day, and invited everyone to add their mark. The massive piece of paper became a collective artefact documenting one of the most incredible summers of my life. It feels good to experiment with it now in a sailing context.

Over the next days the weather clears up and the wind weakens. The sea nourishes us with its steady weaves, sprinkled with an occasional moment of joy, such a visit from the dolphins, or a family of tiny birds landing on deck to rest during their offshore travels.

We anchor in Ouessant, the Western island of France, on a beautiful day.

Ouessant is a strange place. Being a low island sticking out into the notorious Bay of Biscay results in tree-less landscape and the most bizarre rock formations. We go for a hike ashore and I find myself hypnotised by their shapes.

Even on a rare summer day the vibe of this place feels rough, just like on the well known picture of the local lighthouse with the worker hoping to be picked up away from there by the helicopter.

After a day of exploration and ship maintenance it's time to heave up the anchor and make way across La Manche. With barely any wind and plenty of time the workshop season continues. I make my first rope splice, get a music class of spoon playing, and also start carving my wooden spoon.

Our next stop is the archipelago of Scilly right off the coast of England, and I land in love immediately.

I Wizard Walk around the island of St Agnes and St Mary finding ancient sacred sites, incredible rocks, spaces to play, and beautiful nature. It feels great to row off the boat and have some quality time with myself and this magnificent place. I wish we could stay longer.

Before departing, I have my first go at fishing under the pro eye of our watch leader Grand Master Fisherman. I've stopped eating meat around 7 years ago, and recently began pondering the idea of getting connected to the cycle of life and death by killing my own fish to eat it. I had never had this experience and it feels somehow right to look the fish in the eye, say a blessing of gratitude and take its life. Perhaps I won't be able to do it?

I give it a shot, and turn out to be a rubbish fisherman - catching only a piece of seaweed, while everyone gets plenty of fish. I skip the fish soup for now.

Our next stop is Lundy - a lonely island growing out of the Bristol Channel. Yet another walk, more fascinating rocks, and a company of beautiful traditional ships anchored next to us. I also channel my creative energy into four sessions of Wild Cards.

I feel so blessed with all the island hopping. I always felt connected to islands, and somehow the Gods of Weather provided an extremely rare opportunity to visit 4 of them on our journey. I feel inspired, connected to myself, the crew, and the Grayhound. It's really satisfying to start to get how to play with the ship and all its ropes. I'm still don't trust myself to lead the hoisting of a topsail without supervision, but I'm getting there and I absolutely love the ship.

On the way towards Gloucester the watch leader asks me and another crew to do the voyage plan. This is the most satisfying part of the journey so far. I've been blessed with the most wonderful navigation teacher during my time at Enkhuizer Zeevaartschool and putting it all into practice makes me very happy. We work out all the complexity of tides, currents and the narrow channels between the sandbanks, and win the tidal race to arrive at the lock in Sharpness right on time.

Crossing through the British countryside on a tall ship feels surreal. We move slowly through the Canal surrounded by trees, narrow boats, and people who came to welcome us to the Tall Ship Festival.

Wearing full pirate outfits and in a blast from our canons we arrive into Gloucester.

⛵️

With Love, Light and plenty of Tarrrrrr!
Michał