Dali Archives - Phil & Iva

Fear and Failure

By: Phil

March 25, 2016

Back in the water…The boat is finally moving again, gently cradling us with the soothing motion of the tranquil waters of Phang Nga Bay.

A month earlier, life on a boatyard.

It feels so good to be back on Dali and getting the boat ready for the coming year of sailing…but it feels so strange to live “on the hard”.

Dali is out of the water, sitting on land. We need to climb a ladder three meters above ground to get to the boat. I miss the motion of the boat. After months spent on Dali, we’re used to the gentle movement of the swell. But on the hard, the boat feels so unnaturally still.

We chose this small new boatyard because it is cheap, calm and relatively cool. Whatever the monsoon, NE or SW, we usually get a fresh cooling wind that limits the liters of sweat that drench us while working in the tropics.

It is difficult to explain how hard it has been to tackle the technical difficulties I have been facing since I decided to leave my comfortable and predictable job to live on a boat. When I acquired Dali, I knew how to sail and navigate, but when it came to mechanics, electrical systems, composite materials, paints, woodwork, plumbing, painting, sanding, gluing, isolating, screwing, drilling, polishing and so many more areas of expertise, I had no idea. It was scary to know that I would have to develop these skills quickly to be able to fix my boat on my own, in order to attain self sufficiency in deserted places and to try to limit the repair budget to a minimum.

I had a little insight from my years of sailing to the problems encountered on boats, and some theories about how to fix them. I had helped a lot of friends to do repairs on their boat, watched them use certain materials and tools. But clearly, the only way to improve my skills was to face the repair alone, with a lot of advice to pick from, but with my own hands and tools to operate.

Securing the Rudder

Accomplishing a task for the first time on your own, with little or no guidance always involves a lot of stress.

I’ll try to illustrate this. Let’s say, you lightly kissed a rock with the bottom of the keel a few months back. Now on the hard, it’s fixing time. You must sand the area until you accomplish a smooth surface of fiberglass. That means you must know how to use a sanding machine, or just go for it. Then you need to prepare a mix of epoxy resin (two part – a resin and a hardener) and microballoon (micro sized glass bubbles used as a thickener) to fill all imperfection and, once sanded, prepare a smooth area to apply the fiberglass. This is no easy task for a beginner. Measurements must be taken, estimations are also a key. Doing this for the first time is obviously an unnatural feeling. It’s not easy to just go for it with no experience and technical learnings.

Bottom of the keel sanded and ready for filler and fiberglass

Preparing the epoxy/microballoon mix

Time to just “go for it”

Then the epoxy resin is applied, the fiberglass cut to dimension pressed against it and absorbed in the resin. After it has dried for a while but is still sticky, epoxy/microballoon filler must be applied again, then sanded. Finally, another layer of resin and the primer paint are applied on top when the resin is still sticky. The theory seems simple, especially after you’ve seen someone do it in front of you, but until you put your hands at use, smeared with the products that you manipulate for the first time, the whole thing just seems extremely complicated to achieve.

Chopped Strand Fiberglass Mat

The same feeling came upon me when I had to repair my diesel engine for the first time, only using phones and books. Or the outboard engine, that I keep fixing and discovering parts I haven’t dismantled and cleaned yet, or the engine shaft that I have to take apart on my own for the first time the other day. It often brings me back to the first business trip I did in South Korea in 2001. I was an intern in small French multimedia start-up in Hong Kong and replaced my trusting boss on a trip to Seoul. I had to meet with executives of the top Korean web businesses of the time to try to establish partnerships. It was organized in conjunction with the French Embassy and one of their translators was guiding me around the high-rise buildings of Seoul for five days. I was twenty-one years old, and terrified. I was wondering what I was doing there, what the justification for my presence on this trip was, since I had no prior experience. Everything seemed complicated and unnatural. I was putting a lot of pressure on myself, afraid of failure. But I forced myself to try.

As a young inexperienced businessman in Asia

Over the years I realized that there is absolutely no reason to be afraid of failure. It is such a natural feeling that keeps us from trying new things. The boat has been a good friend and let me experiment with the feeling. Today, I still stress out when something breaks for the first time. The other day a water pump was leaking and I had to fix it. It took three tries to dismantle it, clean it and put it back together to make it work. The frustration, the first time is annoying. The second time it is almost unbearable. But I have accepted that I might have to try it a third time, and if it doesn’t work, bring it to somebody and pay him to repair it. I’ve noticed with great surprise, that usually, the third time, it works.

Luckily I have a very good consultant/worker

Another important component of the fear of failure is the importance we put in what other people may think. What will they think of us if we can’t even succeed in a small task that is so easy for them to achieve? What will my friend, who’s worked on boats for 20 years, think of me if I live on a boat and can’t even fix a little water pump? What will my boss think of me if I fail in a task that he seems to accomplish with his eyes closed? We are often paralyzed by other people staring at us. I realized over the years that first of all: who cares? We are all the same human beings with the same fears, so why be ashamed? Second of all, I am a lot more impressed by people who try something and fail, then by people who stick to what they know best, and do it over and over again.

Rope Art

Since I left my comfortable job in Kuala Lumpur, I have tried my best to apply this philosophy to my everyday life. I have been trying a lot of new things without any knowledge: the refit of the boat; the filming and editing of my first documentary; I even participated to a reality TV Show based on interior design! In all these experiences, I had to teach myself how to use the tools and techniques at hand. Every time it felt like I was in front of a brick wall. I didn’t know how to start. I was afraid to start because I was worried I wouldn’t succeed. But I powered through my fears, and forced myself to do it.

Rope Art II

Every task I tackle takes me a lot more time than it would have taken any experienced professional. The first result isn’t anywhere as good, and very far from my expectations. But I am building the necessary confidence to try again, and finally achieve a result that almost satisfies me. There is still so much more to learn. Every time I will have to achieve something new, the same feeling of fear will come back. But I will embrace it and power through. Force myself. Better try and fail than stand still…

Phil

There is no better feeling than being back in the water

Back Under the Palm Trees

By: Phil

March 24, 2016

We are finally back in Phuket. It feels so good to be sleeping in my favorite bed again, inside Dali’s hull. I feel like I have abandoned my boat for too long. Over the years, I’ve developed a very close relationship with my boat, almost as if it were a human being. Sometimes it is happy, in good shape, singing in the waves. Sometimes it is sad, in much need of repairs. As I found Dali sitting on the hard, out of the water, in the boatyard we had left him back in may, I couldn’t withhold a strong feeling of guilt. Boats are not meant to be out of the water. They are not meant to be abandoned for almost five months.

Reunited

It was all for good reasons though. We spent a long time in KL, were we edited our first documentary and participated to season 3 of The Apartment. We transformed our blog into a proper website, with a lot of new exciting features. We visited my family and friends in Europe and spent some quality time with Iva’s family in KL. We were finally able to make a long due visit to Singapore where shared our upcoming projects with our friends.

But is now time to take care of Dali again. Iva and I found the boat in its moldiest state ever. It seems it’s been raining a lot in Phuket while we were gone, and the first few days will mainly be spent cleaning the entire boat : its walls, its ceilings, empty all the drawers, open all the cabinets, clean their content, lift the floorboards, scrape underneath, empty the bilge…

Scrubbing under the Floorboards

Once the boat is back in livable conditions, the proper work will start : some fiber glassing work needs to be done on the keel before we give the hull a new anti-fouling job. The front sail has suffered a rip and needs some sewing. I would like to change the mounts of the engine, possibly the injectors. There is quite a bit of plumbing work as a lot of hoses lying in inaccessible places need to be changed. The rudder needs to be adjusted. The list is endless, as usual…

While we take care of the boat we have to continue working hard at finally generating some income with our website and documentary. We must focus on finding a sponsor, and try to get the financing for our next documentary, which we would like to shoot on the west coast of Sumatra from January to March. How we will achieve all these goals at the same time I don’t know. But Iva and I work so well as a team that I can’t help but be confident…

Phil

An Hour in Phuket

By: Iva

March 3, 2014

Come join us for lunch in Phuket !

This is what our lunches looked like everyday during our two months on the boatyard in Phuket… Not a bad break from work.

**We recommend you watch this video on YouTube HD

Andaman Dream : Full Length Documentary

By: philandiva

October 30, 2013

We are proud to present to you our finished documentary.

The documentary traces our first ever ocean crossing together, following our journey between Phuket and the Andaman Islands during February and March of 2013. The 35minute film shows glimpses of life aboard a sailboat during our four days on the way to Phuket and five days return crossing, as well as highlighting all the beautiful paradisiacal islands that we discovered during our month in India. Our message is simple but powerful: the idea that a dream, no matter how crazy it may seem, is achievable through hard work and strong will.

*Please know that there was a considerable loss of quality when uploading the video to You Tube. Please contact us if you would like a copy in perfect quality.

Shit Happens

By: Phil

September 2, 2013

…continued from here.

Last hours of Dali in the water

Iva and I had decided to leave the boat in Phuket for a few months while we would spend sometime on land. We had to go to KL to make a few appearances related to Season 3 of The Apartment, the reality TV show we had won in 2012. We also wanted to edit a documentary about our trip to the Andamans and switch our blog to a self-hosted website with improvements to come. It seemed easier to do it on land, with unlimited access to power and a fast Internet connection. This was also an opportunity to spend some time promoting our website, in various publications, radio and TV shows. Then, in July we were going to head for Europe to celebrate my grandfather’s ninetieth birthday and visit my family and our friends for over a month. Dali had been afloat for a year and a half. These were all good reasons to lift the boat out of the water and give it a proper refit on our way back.

Sunset drinks at our favourite Reggae Bar on Bang Tao beach

Sunset drinks with our friend Guy, visiting from Doha, and the owner of our favourite Reggae Bar on Bang Tao beach

We were lucky enough to discover a new boatyard that just opened in the north of Phuket. There, we would be able to leave the boat out of the water for four to five months at a reasonable price.

Rainbow before the clouds set in…

This boatyard lies in the muddy passage at the northeast of Phuket. To enter, there is only a very small channel in between the mangrove trees. With Dali’s 1.85m draft, it is only possible to go through at very high tide, during three or four days, twice a month. We have no choice but to enter on the first of these days, since we have an obligation to be in KL the next day, with our flights already booked. The management of the boatyard tells me to enter at 10 am, when the tide is highest. Iva, Guy and I standby in front of the tiny channel, waiting for instructions to come in. But there is another boat before us. I call at 9:30, they tell me to wait. I call at 10:00, they tell me to keep on waiting. The tide’s going down, I tell them. It’s going to be fine, they answer. Finally at 10:40 the bow of the boat passes through two sad little sticks signaling the entrance. Pretty quickly we get stuck in the mud. I call for help, they take ages to come. The tide is still going down at an accelerating rate. A tiny dinghy with an 8hp engine comes and helps us push and pull, while I rev my engine to the max, nothing happens. A passing dinghy, this one with a 25hp engine starts pushing on the other side.

Finally we free ourselves from the mud. But as we exit and turn around we get stuck again. This time it’s even worse. My good friend Kosta, owner of Sheidegg and working on a powerboat nearby, comes with a large dinghy and a powerful engine. We try everything: tying a rope from the top of the mast to Kosta’s dinghy 100m away, to tilt Dali on it’s side and lift the keel over the mud, with Guy climbing to the tip of the boom to give the boat an even bigger angle. We push and we pull but there’s nothing to do. Dali is stuck in the mud for good. We’re not going to make it into the boatyard on that day.

Tide still receding..

Dali on dry sand.. and Guy trying to dig a way out!

Dali on dry sand.. and Guy keeping busy with a bucket…

Dali will have to spend the afternoon lying on it’s side, an usual sight that brings tears to Iva’s eyes, while Guy is trying to dig an exit way through the mud for the keel once the water will come back up. I’m not at my best, but have confidence in the strength of my 25mm. fiberglass hull. We’re just going to have to spend a very tilted afternoon. It feels strange to walk through the boat lying at a steady 45 degree angle. While gathering supplies from the inside, I fall many times, unsure of where to put my weight or hold on to. This is not how I wanted to spend my last afternoon on Dali.

The tide comes back with the dusk and slowly Dali starts floating again. What a sweet feeling to feel the boat moving with the tiny swell. We have dinner and wait for the tide to be highest, start the engine and anchor further away.

The next morning, again, is full of surprises. This time we are the first boat to come in, at high tide. This boatyard is a low budget one and there is no crane. It is a cradle that is placed under the boat and pulled out by a tractor. There is a little puddle of water where I have to wait while the staff places the cradle under the boat. As I enter, not a single staff member is there to catch my ropes!

I scream for help and even anchor in the small space trying to prevent the current from pushing Dali onto the rocks. Luckily Guy is on board with his two precious extra hands. We are able to guide the staff into catching our lines just in time before a crash, and to tie us up in a proper way. After a lot of screaming and sweating Dali is finally secure. It is now time to pull the cradle out of the water with the tractor.

Iva has never witnessed such an operation and loves the boat so much that she worries about it as if it were a child. But soon enough the worst is behind us, and Dali is finally resting safely on its stilts.

The next few hours are a blur. Guy, Iva and I go into frenzy mode so that we are able to prepare the boat for four months of loneliness in time to catch our flight. Somehow we manage.

Guy, you are obviously welcomed back on Dali anytime!

Phil

Abridgment

By: Phil

August 27, 2013

Photo by Julien Estiot

Let’s go back in time a few months. May 2013. Phuket. After an overwhelming trip to the Andaman Islands, Iva and I are back in Thailand. We enjoy our first real shower. After cooking three times a day for two months we take a rest, sit down and order our favorite Thai dishes. We don’t forget the juicy burgers and ice-cold beers either. Tourists are everywhere, the beaches aren’t empty anymore, but tourism has its perks. My brother visits again, so do Iva’s parents. It feels nice to be surrounded by family and familiar grounds.

Beers on the Beach

Julien getting a Thai haircut

Photo by Julien Estiot

Afternoon Boat Activities

First bottle of wine in two months!
Photo by Julien Estiot

We enjoy the company of our friends. Jose and Ana, owners of Zarco, who I met in Fiji nine years ago. Dutch Chris, iconic figure of Ao Yon Bay and owner of the Andaman Sea Club, a catamaran charter company. The amazing Maillard family on Tsarapenhoat : Arnaud and Katia left their steady life in Reunion Island to buy a 38 foot catamaran in Phuket. On board they home-school their four children. We sometimes struggle to cook for two. They do it every day for six.

More friends fly in from Kuala Lumpur. Andy and Steph, who are responsible for introducing me to Iva, finally make it onto Dali. Jess and Rich join the party and make it another memorable outing to Patong. What a contrast to the past two months spent in a bubble with Iva on Dali!

Enjoying a swim in fresh water at our friends’ hotel!
Photo by Jessica Lewis

The Andaman trip has been tiring. We raised anchor almost everyday. I need my lazy days back. So we sail up to Phang Nga Bay, and realize that we haven’t explored it thoroughly. We have gone so far to blow our minds with unexpected images, but Thailand is just as beautiful.

The limestone rocks of Phang Nga Bay. The caves. The secret enclosed bodies of water that we discover everyday. The Thai call them “hongs”, which means “rooms”. OK, we’re not exactly at the end of the world anymore. In most places, hordes of kayaking tourists invade the grounds from ten in the morning to four in the afternoon. That’s my lazy time. The rest is our oars caressing the calm waters of the bay with no one in sight.

Before and After the tourists

Can you spot Iva ?

Seashell Beach

Seashell Shower

Sunset on Limestone Cliffs

My good friend Guy visits from Doha. He was one of the first guests on the boat back in 2009, shortly after I purchased it. At the time I didn’t have the confidence I have now as the captain of Dali. I thought this time everything would go smoothly, especially thanks to Guy’s sailing experience. I had to think again…

…to be continued

Phil

Andaman Dream Teaser

By: philandiva

August 19, 2013

We are so excited to finally unveil the teaser for our upcoming documentary, Andaman Dream. Catch a little glimpse of what we will soon share with you of our first open-sea crossing together!

Reflections

By: Iva

July 12, 2013

It was not easy to leave this corner of India that had us so eagerly engrossed. Returning from Cinque Island we fought against our visa deadline and tried hastily to squeeze a few more anchorages before returning to Phuket. We wanted to run on more beaches, see locals in sarees dancing on the sand and taste new native flavours. Chidiya-tapu and Port Blair bid us a colorful and warm farewell.

There are a lot of finer moments and small details of our trip to the Andaman Islands that have escaped our writing thus far. We have spoken of the incredibly beautiful, deserted beaches, the locals friendly and exotic and the fish plentiful and multi-colored… Yet as we began to conclude our tour of the islands I couldn’t help but feel that some of the more subtle yet significant discoveries had happened between our couple and within our selves.

As Phil set the sails and adjusted the wind-vane, the sun fell and we prepared for our night shifts. Unlike the first crossing, this time we had the moon to guide us during the early parts of the night. While Phil slept and the engine hummed loudly, I had the crescent moon as my companion and more than once danced on the deck looking at its bright yellow light. I danced, and stretched to stay awake during the hours of my vigil in the vast darkness. I admired the stars until my eyes lost focus and I began to see them move and blend and vibrate in the sky. Perhaps they are not called bewitching hours for nothing for it was during these moments that I found myself most exposed, more susceptible to the fantasies that sprung from the atramental night.

Took advantage of the lack of wind for a quick dip

During our crossing Phil and I would at times hardly see each other as the days passed. It was important that whenever someone was awake, the other was resting and regaining the energy necessary to take the next shift. I had more time to give in to my thoughts, no one to edit them for me and was left to indulge myself in my emotions, which fell and rose with the waves. At times I was exhilarated, in a trance with the music I blared from my headphones to help keep me awake. Other moments I was convinced we were on the verge of being in danger, that a strong gust of wind could at any moment catapult us into a disastrous squall… My heart beating loudly and my senses at once heightened from the nerves but dulled from the lack of sleep. I would stare at the soft orange light of our compass for hours on end, my eyes fixed on a range of three degrees until all else disappeared around me. Then dawn would come and with it an immense feeling of relief, followed by the overwhelming bliss of visits from dolphins and pilot whales.

Dolphins

Pilot Whales

Pilot Whale

Enjoying the few hours a day that I saw Phil, both of us awake and excited, me in awe of his growing, brilliant abilities as Captain. And sometimes sheer frustration, lack of wind and lack of movement for hours on end… Being pushed in the wrong direction by a current we can’t fight in heat we can’t escape. Night again: my eyes fixed on the sails and the compass when something bright flashes and in fear of it being lightning I look up immediately and instead see a meteor blazing across the stars.

Midnight as we see the first bright lights of fishermen appear on the horizon and we know we are closer to Thailand. Twilight as we approach Phuket and the silhouettes of the wooden boats with sleepy fishermen greet us and lure us closer to shore. Dawn breaks over Promthep Cape and lights up the Big Buddha who gives us the official welcome. Yindī t̂xnrạb

Iva

Climax

By: Phil

June 18, 2013

I have been dreaming of sailing my own boat around the seas since I was a teenager.

The open seas. Deserted islands. Self-sufficiency. Choosing where to go, deciding when and with whom. Living close to nature, following its rhythms – the movement of the water, the light that hits the beach – the sudden change in weather, the power of the swell. Finding time for myself, a good book, hours of contemplating the variations of color in the sky. And most importantly, good company.

Well, I dreamed a lot over the years. And then slowly things started taking shape. Years of work that made the possibilities seem more real. The purchase of a boat that physically embodied that dream. Months of hard work on that boat to get it ready to carry me to the place I had hoped for. And finally the encounter with Iva. The perfect partner to give me the last piece of the puzzle : a person to share your hopes with.

And then you dream of the perfect spot. A place that exceeds your dreams with its perfection, its simplicity, and the serenity it rewards you with.

Iva, Dali and I found that spot in North Cinque Island.

As we entered the west bay of the Island it was still early morning, the rising sun still blurring our view of land with its glare and the water with its reflection. We could barely see the reef and anchored in 12meters of water in the middle of the bay. As the sun rose in the sky, its light unveiled a perfect spectacle : a long stretch of sand separating the island in two lush hills outlined by giant trees carried by sinuous trunks. The water was splendid, the bay playing with different shades of blue and green, from the coral heads scattered across it to the perfect pool on white sand lining the beach.

We reached land with our dinghy, walked to the top of the stretch of sand only to fall on the ground, in awe of the other side : another perfect bay, another perfect beach. The same one, really, a long white line of fine sand holding two jewels on each side. We looked at each other and smiled.

We spent five days in North Cinque Island, all too quickly carried away by time. Days of exploring the forest, or lying on the sand. Playing with the water, snorkeling through the reefs. Spear fishing in the rocks, taking our time to elaborate gourmet meals.

On our first sunset, we climbed an old dead tree lying on its side. The island rewarded us with yet another blissful surprise : a herd of deer feeding on the grass, meters away.

After three days in The Perfect Bay we moved to the South side of the island.

There, the passage between North and South Cinque, covered in reef, answered our wildest snorkeling and fishing hopes : a vibrant underwater life. Thousands of small reef fish, huge schools of parrots and surgeons, crayfish, hump head wrasses and parrots, giant groupers and trevallies, sharks, and on the last day, our biggest reward : a manta ray aknowleged us with its gracious swimming style, and glided away.

Fishing Action

Delicious Sweetlips

Iva’s Favourite Coral Reef Fish : The Oriental Sweetlips !

Attaining your dreams is something you have to deal with. Trying to reach a goal brings you forward and helps you deal with the common interrogation of existence. Why am I here ? What should I do ? What will I work towards when I wake up tomorrow morning ? For years, I was aiming towards the idea of a woman, a boat and a perfect place. All these images in my head finally took a clear shape and gave me more than I had ever expected. But what’s next ? What do I do now ? Thankfully I’m not alone anymore to figure that out…

Phil

Twenty-Six

By: Iva

June 10, 2013

My birthday this year was spent in a bubble. Made from the froth of the sea, lingering gently on a small strip of beach, shaded by green and red leaves. Far from phone calls and Facebook messages I spent the day basking in the warm embrace of Philippe, Dali and the Andaman Sea.

By this point in our trip our eyes and minds had begun to adjust slightly to our altered and privileged reality. So much so that we did not feel too intimidated to handpick a secluded corner of Chakra Jurum and claim it ours for the night.

Phil anchored the boat with fresh confidence and ease acquired from our recent crossing. Dali had never sat so close to the shore, and looked magnificently smug about ten meters from the reef, perched perfectly on a white sandy bottom surrounded by turquoise and azure.

Laying on the sand and looking at the sky while Phil fished for our dinner, I found it hard to reflect on my twenty six years of life. I felt too far removed to consider it all as a sequence of events or coherent ensemble. I saw Phil and I floating in a bubble, detached from our previous experiences, suspended temporarily in our fragile and pristine paradise. Even when two catamarans entered the channel to remind us of the outside world, our eyes quietly followed the movement of their sails until the intrusion was chased away and we were alone again.

In the early afternoon we made a fire on the beach and prepared for dinner. Our picnic was complete with white wine and a freshly baked cake. We toasted to us, to the boat, to the halfway mark in our journey and to our family and friends who were in our thoughts as night fell and the stars united everything under their guard.

Iva