By Way of Contrast

December 21st.

Midsummer in South Africa, midwinter in Ireland. Probably about 35 degrees in Durban, about minus 3 in Derry. Awake in Durban at 5am with sunshine streaming through the windows - meet for sundowners at 7pm. Awake in Derry at 9am with the sun barely struggling above the horizon - sundowners not too long after afternoon tea (make mine a hot toddy). Appropriate clothing in Durban - a pair of shorts. Appropriate clothing in Derry - fleecy jumper, thick coat, gloves, scarf, beanie.

I am in one of these two places.

Which one? The WRONG one, obviously.

Well, not really. Derry has some things going for it. My family are here, and Christmas actually feels like Christmas is supposed to - ie miserable. Its purpose (as a replacement Saturnalia) is to cheer you up when the weather is cold and it's dark for twenty hours of the day. So I'm better off here.

It has to be said that I am having some nostalgic thoughts about last year on a beach in Fremantle, but I'm bearing up manfully.

Newswise, there is little to tell. My final few days in RSA were spent doing a few odd jobs for PYT, and the inevitable evening beers with my hosts, including Colin who had just made it back from his lengthy overseas trip.

The journey back was uneventful. Soon after my return, I met up in London with small but select group of Cardiff veterans for a predictably boozy Tuesday evening. And I've already had one job application rejected. Not to panic - the pub at the bottom of my street needs a glass collector. I feel I can bring a results-centred, customer-driven focus to the role which will significantly contribute to receptacle turnover in their establishment.

That exciting opportunity can wait until after Christmas dinner. I'm back in the oul' sod until the 30th. There is much fussing over nieces and god-children to be done in that time. Cunningly, I've made sure to buy them toys that I myself am very happy to play with.

To those who have not received a Christmas card from me (ie all of you): have a very Happy Christmas, and a quiet night in front of the telly for New Year.

Ocean Yachtdude

Well, just for the record, I made it past my Yachtmaster Ocean exam without too much hassle. Some exercises on the ins and outs of star sights, some penetrating questions about hurricane tactics, and an intensive discussion about the planning, preparation and execution of a three-month ocean cruise: and then it was over. I now officially Know It All.

Not true, of course, but it is true that there will be no more training courses to do. Unless I choose to go down the route of becoming an instructor or a mega-yacht skipper (highly unlikely), there is no further work to do.

And thus the project comes to an end. I sent my first speculative enquiries about the Clipper Race in May 2004 when I was a diligent (but clearly dissatisfied) investment banker. Two and a half years later, I am as qualified as I can be in amateur yacht sailing and preparing to head back to the routine of a London office.

Two more days in South Africa, some time back in Ireland to spend time with the folks over Christmas, New Year in London, and then the job applications start. I'm partly regretful, partly apprehensive, but also fairly energised and eager to get a normal life going again. It's been fun, and it will be fun again, but the holiday is over: any more and I think I would become jaded. In any case, a sailing job is, in the end, just a job. Instead of waking up and thinking, "Bugger, have to go to the office", you think "Bugger, out sailing today" - whether as a trainer, delivery crew or charter skipper.

So the plan is to work, earn some wonga, and retain enough free time to sail for fun every weekend.

Before that, I'm trying to make myself useful to the guys here and doing whatever bits and pieces I can help with. I'm sure we'll have a few beers together before the tearful farewell on Friday.

To be honest, I am getting a bit disoriented by the Southern Hemisphere Christmas. It's a bit bizarre to walk around the shops in thirty degree sunshine with Bing Crosby crooning "Let It Snow, Let It Snow" in the background. It's much better to have all of the Christmas hoo-ha on a dark, cold December evening with driving sleet adding to the misery. I'm sure Derry and London will not disappoint.

Yachtdude

I made it.

Yesterday evening a very nice gent by the name of Peter Nell shook me by the hand and told me that I am now an Yachtmaster (Offshore).

He could have added (but didn't), "and one very lucky man."

It would have been nice to pass my RYA yachtmaster with the most outrageously perfect examination performance in the history of that fine organisation. It was very far from being the case. However, the qualification is just pass or fail: there are no grades, so no-one need know how close it was (except that I am foolishly writing about it in a public forum).

It had already been a fairly stressful week before the exam started, starting before we left Durban.

The plan was that Neil would accompany me. He would supervise my theory exam on Monday evening. Assuming that went well, we had organised a boat and some local crew to practise the standard manoeuvres on Tuesday and Wednesday, and then I was to have my exam on Thursday.

I showed up at Durban airport on Monday morning for the flight to Cape Town. The first news of the day was that Neil had suffered a bereavement (a family member) the previous night. Acting far, far beyond the call of duty, he flew with me to Cape Town, got me out to Langebaan, and supervised the examination. I passed, and he then signed my all-important course completion certicate, which has to be done by the course instructor.

There was no way he could stay, so he headed off very early the next morning. In the meantime, some light-footed work by the guys at PYT had already organised me a replacement instructor - a local by the name of Charles Reynolds. It was a terrible turn of events, but the efforts of Keith Stewart at PYT and Neil's selflessness meant I was still on track.

The point of doing the exam near Cape Town is that there is a significant tidal current there, which is not the case in Durban. Tidal currents make manoeuvring quite a lot more complicated. Once upon a time, the idea had been that we might practise the techniques in Maputo, but you may recall that the boat spent most of its week there stuck fast in the mud. So I had two days to master it, as well as get used to working with my temporary crew: Colin, Chris and Jaco.

Well, for those two days, Charles just hammered me. He battered me on my Man Overboard routine, my docking, my boat handling, my trimming and my general ships knowledge. I nearly pranged the boat a couple of times, almost crash gybed, and royally cocked up my mooring under sail. It didn't help that the boat was operated with a tiller rather than a wheel. I haven't done a whole lot of dinghy sailing, and I'm used to having all my essential controls and compass at a binnacle. It took some getting used to.

I was pretty punch drunk by the time we docked on Wednesday evening, and the night was yet young. I had a passage plan to write for the following day and lots of cramming to do. I had a horrible feeling I was going to have a shit of an examiner and terrible weather.

I had neither. The weather sunny and pleasantly breezy, and Peter was courtesy itself. Nonetheless, he put me through my paces. Some stuff went quite well. Amazingly, I managed to pick up a mooring under sail despite missing it three times in practice the previous day. Apparently my anchoring under sail was "good", despite the fact that I had done it for the first time less than twenty-four hours previously.

Some stuff was not so good. I had two man-overboard drills. The first went fine. The second (with simulated engine failure) took a couple of attempts, but I did manage to get Mr Fender back. The most nail-biting moment was coming off the mooring. I foolishly failed to take into account the leeway of the boat as I sailed off, and almost put us on the rocks. Peter gave me a bit of a look for that one.

The only bit I'm really happy with was my blind navigation exercise. Also known as "RYA fog", this is where the candidate gets sent below, and has to navigate from a chart without being able to see where the boat is going, as if visibility was very restricted. The idea is to shout the course up to the crew, who can report nearby features only if they are very close. GPS is not used.

I had to navigate back to the cheesily-named Club Mykonos, where we were berthed. After about an hour of plottings, dead-reckonings, and calculations, I reckoned we should be right on the doorstep. I shouted up to ask if they could see anything close by. "Not really" came the disheartening answer. Never mind, I had a fall-back plan. I started to explain it when I was told to give up and come on deck. My heart in my mouth, I went up. The marina entrance was twenty metres away, right on the money. That felt good.

Half an hour after that, I had my ticket.

It has to be said that I owe a huge debt to Colin, Jaco and Chris who helpedenormously. I couldn't have asked for more.

It's not over yet. I have an exam tomorrow for my Yachtmaster (Ocean) certificate, but it is purely a theory test. I will be asked to demonstrate my knowledge of celestial navigation plus some extra stuff about long-distance passage planning, boat management and meteorology. Quite apart from the fact that I feel more at home with the material, I'm just not as bothered if I don't pass it. The exam can be repeated easily enough and anyway, the really meaty one is the Offshore component.

So I now have some bits of paper (in principle, at least). The truth is that I am NOT really a master yachtsman or anything like it. I have a lot of miles, but not a huge variety of experience: I haven't skippered much, or done much close manoeuvring, or sailed very many different kinds of boat. I sailed 35,000 nm on Cardiff and never helmed it onto a berth once. Still, I hope to have a lot of fun rectifying those deficiencies.

I'm in Cape Town today, in the V&A waterfront. It's a consumerist monstrosity created for tourists with lots of expensive shops, cafes, bars and theatres. It's the complete opposite of the real Africa. I'm loving it. I'm taking a day's R&R before the exam tomorrow. Then I'm off to Jo'burg for a day to see a chum there. If I survive that, I'll be back in Durban on Monday evening.

Feeling good.

I wasn't the only person who had a good day yesterday. My godson, Master Ronan Gallagher, turned TWO yesterday. I was away sailing when he arrived in the world, I was away sailing when he had his first birthday, and now I'm away sailing on his second. This cannot go on. He's going to have to come sailing next year.