One ocean at a time
Solo sailor finds safe harbor in Greenport after transatlantic voyage
By Erin Schultz
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And, most likely, he still had sea legs.
A few days beforehand, the 27-year-old from Melbourne, Australia, had just finished crossing the Atlantic Ocean -- from England to New York -- all by himself.
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He's docked in Greenport for a few weeks to do minor repairs on his boat -- a hardy red and white British-made 26-foot Contessa, a classic built in 1972. He hopes to raise enough money to transport the vessel across the country to San Francisco.
"It'd be cool to take the great American road trip," he said.
From there he plans to traverse the Pacific back to Melbourne -- alone.
With little previous seafaring experience and no formal training (and no bad tattoos -- visible, anyway), Mr. Jaffe is not the typical salty sailor. He's a soft-spoken computer software developer and photographer. He's got a degree in fine arts. And if he makes the trip around the globe, he'll join the ranks of a long list of novice young solo sailors like Robin Lee Graham and Tania Aebi.
But he's not out to break any records. And to him, this is no athletic event.
"I have no real interest in it as a sport at all," he said. "I'd certainly laugh if someone called me an athlete."
Endurance artist might be a better term. Mr. Jaffe averaged 100 nautical miles a day for 30 days, armed with only a few maps, an old radio and a satellite phone for navigation/communication. He passed the time lying on a short bunk in a cramped, sweaty cabin. He lived on pasta and the occasional fish. He had no fuel for power in case of emergency and relied exclusively on the winds to carry him. Though he was utterly alone, he said he was never lonely.
"It's tricky, psychologically, being in the middle of nowhere in a leaky boat," he said. "You adjust. Small things become entertainment. You see a fish and it's the most exciting thing in the world. It's a different kind of head space."
Mr. Jaffe said that the empty void aspect of solo offshore sailing is one of the "most special" things about the activity. The dead of night didn't scare him.
"On the one hand, it is completely existential," he said. "But on the other, it's utterly full of life, forcing you to re-examine your worries and priorities against this enormous backdrop of nature. One midnight glance out your port window on a starry night, skirting along under a brisk wind is worth all those squalls and calms."
His blogs on his Web site, www.bigoceans.com are funny, vivid accounts of the messy emotions he experiences along the way, somewhere between ecstatic elation and infuriating letdown -- and the sudden sensory overload of arriving in New York City. He was surprised to find he loved every decadent minute of it. The taste of a banana after days of dull pasta; the strong beer with his younger brother, Ryan, someone he hadn't seen in two years.
Vancouver-based software developer Robert Finlayson, 32, said Mr. Jaffe isn't a loner per se. To him, his friend of 14 years is simply one of those rare people who can "isolate; remain in his own company for two months without going mad." He also said that Mr. Jaffe's training in developing software sharpened his natural instincts for caution and thoroughness in all aspects of life. The computer tech business was his breaking ground, where he learned how to solve problems.
"He's always very careful," Mr. Finlayson said. "He'd never rely on a guess. He's sure of himself and sure of his craft."
And his craft now is a 26-foot boat.
"Sailing is simply his current journey," he continued.
According to Mr. Jaffe's father, John, he's never been drawn to the ocean in particular. But, he said, an Aussie lad is always drawn to the water.
"Water has always been a feature of the ¬¬family summer holidays," he said. "He made his swimming debut in our esky [the Australian term for a large cooler] at age one."
The elder Mr. Jaffe also remembers a fairly crazy but determined boy, plunging 50 feet from a blue spruce, falling through branches but somehow not getting hurt. He remembers a surfer, a spelunker, a "keen urban cyclist -- one gear, no brakes," an avid swimmer, reader, skier, snowboarder, rock climber, sea kayaker and camper.
Mr. Jaffe said he also "tries to play guitar." He had a cheap one onboard for the voyage, but the strings started to rust.
"Don't worry," he said. "I don't buy anything of particular value."
Probably because he can't. He's operated on a shoestring budget since day one of the journey, relying on funds from private and corporate sponsors and the occasional freelance software project. But he's certainly not in it for the money.
"That's why he's so attractive," Mr. Finlayson said. "So many people would love to take on that sort of challenge, not as a means but as an end."
Whether he makes it across -- or to -- the Pacific or not, he's looking forward to documenting the moments of his journey as an art piece, on the Web and with his filmmaker friend Jack Rath -- wherever the wind takes him.
"What am I going to do with my life?" he asked with an easy, self-assured smile. "Take it one day at a time. One ocean at a time."
For more information on Mr. Jaffe, or to help him across the Pacific, go to www.bigoceans.com.
