So this is goodbye

The hottest shooting

A few days after my arrival, I've asked Claude & Daniel to sit down & tell the story of Kim in the Antarctic. As the location for the shooting, we chose a room above the Sun Marin workshop.



While Dani & I were working hard to make the room as dark as possible, we've realized that our new studio is quite a sauna. Never the less, this specific day was actually dated as the hottest day, this summer, in all of Europe.



To add to our unfortunate situation, Daniel was just released from the hospital, recovering from a hand surgery.



Needless to say, the two French explorers kept their cool, for the full two hours of the shoot, while Dani & I sitting in front of them, half naked & half drunk.









Here are some more pictures from those days:

Off topic: A day trip in the Camargue

Just before Dani (cameraman) & Yuval (big brother) left, we took the rental for a day trip in the Camargue.

You can watch the pictures (& read the captions) below, but it's very recommended to try the full screen experience.

The fish I am

In the moments before entering the marina of Port Camargue, I was trying hard to find my enthusiasm. A racing heartbeat, sweaty palms, a lump in my throat… nothing. After so many days at sea, I was hoping to finally feel something.

Actually, the only thing I do remember was anxiety. I set out on this voyage hoping to feel grief at last. To take myself to the limits of my soul & enjoy the darkest things I would find inside; & then, just before my voyage ended, I was going trough my inventory of emotions, wondering if I had accomplish my desires.

Thinking back, I had my moments, when darkness overcame, but it wasn't pitch black as one would imagine or as sweet as I expected it to be. It was short & accurate, so I guess only time will make the difference.

I think, somewhere along the way, in the past few years, I transformed from the emotional little fish I was, into a thinking wooden being, pushing away any feeling that may have hurt me; & then when I wanted to hurt a little, there was almost nothing left inside. So, I took my father's boat & set sail on an artificial-emotional journey, trying to transform myself back into that little fish. Hopefully, now I am somewhat of a hybrid – a thinking wooden fish.

The last sail?

Two days after I arrived in Port Camargue, Daniel & I took Black Dolores out sailing again, to what will probably be my last time sailing this boat in open sea. We were joined by Virginie, who spent her childhood & teenage years between Takai (Claude's boat) & Mowgli (Black Dolores' original name). Her first visit to the boat, the night before, ended in tears (of joy, I guess), but on this day of sailing, she just had a constant smile on her face, holding the tiller & sailing the boat again (or actually, any boat), for the first time in 17 years.



Daniel, on the other hand, did not feel the need to take the wheel. He just ran up & down the deck, checking his boat's condition, straining the stays & enjoying the way his old love was still flying on the sea.



& me? For me, it was the first time in a long time I was actually sailing like I remember sailing with my father – going with the wind, no need for destination, just letting Black Dolores make love with the water.



Here are some pictures of my first few days in Port Camargue:

Port Camargue - Mission accomplished

On the 41st day of our voyage, we finally reached our destination. People have the tendency to ask if you're excited, just before your moment of truth. Usually my answer would be 'no'. I'm usually not excited till the moment is on. So, while we were making our way to the entrance of Port Camargue's marina, I was waiting anxiously for the instant when it will hit me; & then, a distant flashing light was pointing our way – a boat in the dark, getting closer & closer, till we could hear the cheering people on board. I guess they had to remind me it's excitement time & I was feeling it right away. When Dani turned his camera light in their direction, I could finally see the long awaited faces of Claude & Daniel, two of the original French explores & makers of Black Dolores. After guiding us into the gates of the marina, Daniel Jumped on board of Black Dolores & drove his old boat back in her familiar waters. In a maneuver I didn’t know my boat was capable of, he gently glided Black Dolores into a tight spot, I could hardly park my car in.

After Claude, Daniel & their wives finished exploring every inch of the boat, we could finally open our bottle of champagne & declare: "Around the world in 22 years!".

Mother

On the 15th of august we arrived in Marseille. There, after 40 days of sailing & almost a year of separation, our family was once again complete (in our new, never really complete, version).

I don’t think my mother ever sailed without my father & I wasn't really sure she ever really liked it. I planned this voyage for her to have just one symbolic day of sailing, hoping for it to be as tranquile as she remembers. So, as my wish was the wind's command, it seemed to take a rest for that specific day, leaving us with the sea, as quiet is it can be.

It wasn't too long before I realized how wrong I was. It was when I saw my mother's disappointment as the lack of wind prevented Black Dolores from tilting enough to let my mother dip her legs in the big blue sea. I don’t know if it was a real love for the sea or the longing for my father, but when he suddenly appeared in the form of a gentle wind, tilting his first & second love just enough to let some water race against their skin, it was impossible not to notice my mother's genuine smile.


As she later told me, Black Dolores & her did not love from the first sight. On their first voyage to Cyprus, my mother refused to spend the night on board in the marina
& demanded my father to book an hotel room. When she saw him in his misery – being so close & yet so far away from Black Dolores, she decided to embrace his new young lover & do her best to love her too.

Brothers

When I shot my first film, Better Then The Beatles, I was hoping to capture the breakthrough of my brothers' hip hop band, but eventually, I captured my own personal growing up process - The long for moment, when I would finally stop feeling like the kid brother & managed to become a friend to my older siblings.

On the 9th of August, in the city of Rome, both of my brothers & a German cameraman boarded the deck of Black Dolores. My brothers, who have been living in New York for the past 12 year, came directly from my father's memorial service in Kibbutz Einat. Itamar & Yuval did not sail since my father died & much before that.

When our father was around, we almost had no worries. If he was sailing this ship we could have all slept like new born babies, all the way to France. Now, I felt that I have to take the role of eldest of the tribe, to be the one my brothers can put their trust in.



& then of course, faith has decided to test me again. When we eventually left Rome, on our way to Sardinia, the gods of wind were exhaling a bit stronger then accepted. I can't say we were in a storm, but for a first day on board, the wind & the waves were quite a stomach blender. I will not mention any names, but some of our new crew members could barely hold their breakfast in & stress was in the air.

I'll try to be has honest has I can – just before arriving in Rome, the wind & the waves were quite the same & I did not make any effort to hide the fact that I'm not enjoying this ride; But the moment my brothers boarded the ship, I tried to wear my father's shoes, pretend to be a life long sailor & keep a giant smile on my face. It wasn't an easy task at first, but slowly, I started enjoying myself. It was not my new role that gave me pleasure, not at all. It was my new state of mind, bearing my father within me, with his love to the sea. Not referring to the situation has a battle, but more like a ballet – watching Black Dolores dancing beautifully between the waves.

Here are some pictures of the more pleasant momants of that voyage with the brothers:

The perfect storm

Before leaving Israel, my skipper insisted to make it clear - this is not going to be an all fun & play cruise, this voyage will not compare to the easy sailing I used to have with my father on those sunny Saturdays. Choosing to sail the Mediterranean, in this season, in that direction, could lead to some stormy situations, as I was soon to find out. After a week of sailing on a sea, that seemed to look like a big-flat-oily-mirror, I was actually wishing for something to happen - every documentary needs it's drama.

& then, just a spit away from Crete, the gods of wind decided to test the strength of Black Dolores & her crew. While we were sailing along the east coast of the island, the wind started to grow & the sea began to feel like a huge washing machine.

It wasn't too long before monstrous waves were braking on Dolore's walls, spraying buckets of sea into the cockpit. I remember looking at the wind speed meter, asking for it to settle. As the captain would later proudly tell everyone, the pick of the storm was 49 knots (while the wind forecast maps usually top at 50 knots). The fact that the land was so close was not very helpful – on the east side of the island there are no marinas. The first marina on the north coast was not very far, but the wind was so strong, it would not let us to keep our course. As there where no other options, we had to go with the wind back east, while trying to climb as north as possible, before tacking back to the island. This maneuver had to be done quite a few times in the following day & night.

The captain & his first mate, Yaron, started that day early in the morning & finished it, soaked & tired, the morning after.

When we finally landed in the marina of Ayios Nikolaos & after exchanging some of our battle stories with the locals, we have come to understand that it's very common to encounter strong winds on north-east corner of Crete, but no one could remember a storm this strong for the past 20 years.

I guess when I wished for drama, I got more then I bargained for - this storm was not fun for one moment, but I think I will always be somewhat grateful for that extreme experience.

Sea encounters – The hitchhikers

After crossing the Strait of Messina, between Sardinia & Italy, we’ve decided to anchor in a little bay on the coast of Vulcano Island. A few steaks for dinner, a morning swim & we were set to go.

As we were leaving the Island, we noticed a skinny man, wearing a straw hat, trying to paddle his tiny 'Hobby 16' catamaran in a windless weather, while his beautiful daughter is still having her beauty sleep, under the mast. As our merciful captain suggested, we drove by their little boat & offered them a ride. Paul & Bianca seemed very surprised & grateful while Paul was tying our red rope to his mast.

We spent a magical hour with the modest architect & his shy daughter, on the deck of Black Dolores, having a morning beer & some Israeli peanuts.


Before entering our new anchorage spot in Lipari Island, Paul jumped in the water to untie the catamaran. The shy Bianca, who could probably not bare a moment alone with those generous strangers, jumped right after, screaming "Papi!" from the top of her petit lungs, leaving us with the perfect new word for our impersonations lexicon.

Here are some more pictures of our voyage between Sardinia & Rome:


(BTW: I've reached my destination. More on that in the next posts).

Malta

Cruising

4 days after leaving Greece, we've arrived in Catania (Italy) & figured out that we have a lot of time to spare. That means that I can actually try & live the life of a real cruiser - moving from one port to the other, letting Black Dolores & the wind take us wherever they wish. I guess that's the way my father wished to spend his old days & I'm starting to fall in love with this way of life. So, after cruising on the east coast of Sicily, eating some pizza & carpaccio & spending a fortune on 'Yacht parking', we bought a Maltese flag & set sail to Malta (it's a courtesy sea law to put up a flag of the country you're entering). I have some crazy thoughts of not coming back has planed & pursuing my new love affair with Black Dolores, sailing from France to Spain & Portugal, going down to Morocco & sailing the west coast of Africa or where ever Black Dolores wants us to go. Maybe some day we'll arrive in Antarctica & spend the winter on the ice. Does anyone wants to sponsor my voyage?

Here are some pictures of the past 2 weeks of sailing:

Crete

Yahsu!
After 6 night of sailing we arrived in Crete (Greece). That was actually 3 days ago. Many stories to tell, but I guess you'll have to watch the film :). Till then, you can enjoy these lovely pictures:

First stop - Larnaca

After 32 hours of beautiful sailing from Israel to Cyprus, we arrived in Larnaca. The immigration police man says, that the last time Black Dolores was here, was September 2004. I guess that was the last time my parents ever sailed to Cyprus. In a few hours we'll depart the marina & make our way to Crete.

Here are some pictures to tell the story on our last 3 days:

Last post from Israel

Time to say goodbye

This Tuesday, On the 7th of July, exactly one month shy of my father's one year anniversary & a month after the original date planed, we'll be untying Black Dolores' ropes, lifting up the fenders & finally setting sail on our way to France.

Tension, excitement, fear & some sea sickness, are words I could use to try & describe what I'm going trough, but they we'll not do the job. The only thing I'm sure of, is that the time has come for me to fully dive into this voyage & embraces it whatever way it hits me.

Here are some pictures from Saturday, when we took the crew out for a the a last sea trial:







Next stop Larnaca (Cyprus), where my father spent his last moments on earth.

Wish me luck :)

The best welder in the world!

It took us a week, but last Monday we found our man - "The best welder in the world!" (& I'm quoting the man's own words).

So, after this proud welder did his part, My modest skipper (actually & unfortunately former skipper) , Stepped in & completed the job.

Now, That the new depth meter is in it's place & the boat is back in the water, I can finally announce that everything is dry & beautiful.

Hush little baby

	Greg Spence Wolf - Hush Little Baby Don't You Cry
	Found at skreemr.com

The bizarre world of the aluminum welders

It's been a rough week for Black Dolores.... Actually she got a nice new paint job, so one positive thing did happen:The problem is, that a good aluminum welder, is not an easy thing to find & the worst thing is, that they know it. So, either they want to charge a crazy amount of money for an hour's work, or they just take their time in returning your calls. I've heard some people talk about an economic crisis, but I guess this crisis does not effect the aluminum welding industry.

Today, after a week's search, we though we found the perfect man for the job (welding the infamous hole). It was this crazy dude who's building a 45 feet aluminum catamaran in his back yard & was willing to come to the shipyard in a few hours notice & for a fair amount of money.

We went straight to his "workshop", filled with contentment, thinking we beat the aluminum-welders-system & found the one guy who's not a part of their clique. I saw the huge catamaran in his yard & was very impressed (but didn't feel right taking pictures, sorry). We drove him the car shop, to pickup his track & then drove out of the city, to pickup a special extension cord, while he was working back in his house on our aluminum plate.

I have to say that something felt fishy about this dude, something didn't weld, but after this horrible week, I had to keep thinking of him as my lord saver.

When we got back to the house, he had already finish with the plate & we helped him lift his huge welding machine on to his track. Before we left, he mumbled something about already regretting taking that job & something about wanting his money before entering the shipyard.

Today was a hot day & I remembered him also saying something about his car's AC not working. I had the feeling this will not help the situation. So, when we met again, after a 15 min drive from his house to the marina, we found Mr. Hyde behind the wheel. He said that he doesn't feel like doing the job anymore & turned around & drove away.

Does anybody know a good aluminum welder?!

Reuven & Aliza 1970

Yesterday, 24.06.09, my parents were suppose to celebrate their 39th wedding anniversary.

Music: Bound by Pink Noise (edited version)

Rapid Eye Movement

It's 7am & I wake up thinking about my father's one year memorial service. As things progress, it seems like I will not be able to attend. Someone told me that being in the middle of the Mediterranean will also be an appropriate way to commemorate my father's memory.
I think of asking Nadav to shoot the service for me & for the film. I start to imagine the people, my family, my father's grave & the way I want it all to be shot. I guess I was falling asleep again at that point - suddenly I see my father there, he is sitting far with his back to everybody, introverted. his old camera in is lap, concealed in it's case, strap around he's shoulder. I approach him, to ask why he's not joining everybody, but before I get an answer, it all fades away. Thanks B6.

(Just got a call from the Greenhouse project, they really liked my proffer, but wondered about the dates - their first workshop, in turkey, falls on the day of the memorial service. If I can not be there, they won't take my project. I think I really can't be there for that workshop, as I've stated above, but who knows...).

I'm not going anywhere

Last Friday we took the boat for another sea trial. we originally planed to sail for two days, but fortunately we changed our plans. I say 'fortunately' because after 1.5h of sailing we turned around back to the marina (we had a 'sea sick' on board). The moment we completed the turn, the bilge alarm went on. it turns out that the transducer of the dept meter broke & water was flooding in. We managed to get back to the marina, while I was holding the transducer in place & the skipper is taking the water out with a bucket (none of the pumps worked when we needed them).


Now Black Dolores is out of the water & It feels like I'm not going anywhere.