⛵ VOYAGE #00 - Welcome
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⛵ VOYAGE #00 — by Nick Jaffe — September, 1, 2020
Welcome to the first edition of VOYAGE: musings on my sail through this (non-)linear fraction of time we've all been gifted. What's ahead? A compendium on books, craftsmanship, oceans, photography and exploration. Perhaps. Let's begin with now and let the paragraphs evolve, rather than pre-empt.
In mid-March of this year, I was happily driving through the Baviaanskloof (Afrikaans for Valley of Baboons) within the Eastern Cape of South Africa, headed for my final destination of Norway, the next two years of my life blocked out for transcontinental overlanding. For my birthday I surfed J-Bay (!!) and by March 23, I was on a mercy flight back to Australia, running the stressful Covid-19 travel gauntlet to my home in Tasmania. Once safely aboard the second-last South African Airlines flight to Australia, I thought about 'On the Beach,' the 1959 film starring Gregory Peck, where humanity in the Northern Hemisphere is annihilated by nuclear fallout, leaving certain Australian states in moderate safety. A few hiccups later, I was safely in self-quarantine at 43 degrees south with much relief — although the fallout of the pandemic would not spare Tasmania, I am both grateful for my decision to return and grateful to be an Australian citizen, whereby I am afforded the luxury of such decisions. I think it is important to remain cogniscent about the good things which happen to us because of our work and intellect, versus what is merely good fortune — it's hard to stomach how much of the latter is at play — our ego enjoys claiming responsibility for every success while happily blaming someone else for every failure. Sailing across oceans alone taught me some profound lessons about self-responsibility and luck.
The Brazilian explorer & yachtsmen Amyr Klink once claimed adventure was no more than successful project management. I am inclined to agree: don't get mad — yes — there is more to true adventure than spreadsheets, I am simply pointing out that climbing Everest takes more than a cord of Manilla rope and a woollen jumper from grandma, even though that's what the romantics might have you believe (of which I am one). You may have noticed I used the term 'true adventure,' because 'adventure' has been co-opted by Instagram biographies, to mean anything from going on a weekend hike to a holiday in Corfu - anyway, I digress, let this newsletter not become my ranting soapbox!
With my project management streak informing a decision to ride out this pandemic in the safety of my home, my Land Rover (affectionately named Penny) remains with excellent friends just outside of Cape Town, under the safe watch of security personnel wearing green berets. For when will I return? If at all? I simply don't know. As it turns out, I selected the worst time in modern history to drive half-way around the world. Again, let me be grateful I could even conceptualise and (partially) execute such a ridiculous idea — what a time to be alive!
My voyage aboard Constellation was many years ago, and one of the positives out of this global freeze is that I was able to finally birth a book, which was published in April. A friend asked how long ago it all was and I replied that I turned 40 next year, "are you really soon to be 40? It’s interesting how we know that time is passing... tick tock tick tock... but somehow the cumulative effects are a surprise." Rest assured, it is as much a surprise to me as it is to you! One of the great things about getting older and continuing to live with certain convictions, is that people start to take you seriously. The cumulative effects of being an outlier begin to make you a domain expert at being an odd-ball — an after-effect I'm ok with. When I announced I was planning on completing my circumnavigation of the world in 30 year old military Land Rover primarily made from canvas, no one asked why or questioned it, they simply asked: when?
I closely monitor the news in anticipation of when I might return to the African continent. The personal economic effects of Covid-19 have certainly put the entire expedition at risk, my Airbnb is shutdown for the foreseeable future and commercial photographic work is in short supply with travel off the cards. In light of what I can't do, I work hard on the things I can. That said, I remain positive and excited about the future — this imposed slowing down has given me tremendous insight into what I want, where I am going and most importantly: why. Regardless of the technicalities of what the coming months deliver, I do look forward to them.
The publishing of my book The Years Thunder By has unearthed a myriad of old connections and dormant thoughts on all manner of things. If you have ever dreamt of writing a book, stop getting in the way of yourself and go do it. It is special. The feedback has been overwhelmingly positive (although I know not everyone will like it, the prospect of negative feedback does raise my anxiety some days)... Ultimately though, it has all been pushing me to continue putting words into pixels: writing these short pieces is about leaning into the cascading and overwhelmingly positive effects which arise from putting oneself out there into the metaverse.
Writing for me is labour of clarity: to write is to think clearly — to think clearly is to live with articulation — and to live an articulate life is the essence of using ones diminishing time well. On a recent interview I listened to with DBC Pierre (podcast link below), he mentioned that he wrote by feel, and I felt a kind of kinship. There is an undeniable musicality and cadence to the written word. I have always played music by feel and rarely by technical ability, much to the annoyance of my teachers — in fact, I think I could admit to myself that I've spent most of my life living by feel, for better or for worse. I don't claim to be a good writer or to have all my punctuation and grammar in check, but I do claim to enjoy it. It's curious how we often find ourselves not doing the things we enjoy for no sensible reason. Why is that? Or is it just me. More on that another time, perhaps.
Where to from here? I'd rather not spend my time (or yours) merely ruminating on myself, however there was a little catching up to do. My aim here is to weave all of my interests, projects, reading and work into a concise piece every fortnight. I hope you'll stick around. Constructive feedback gracefully accepted 🙏
Recent photographic outputs
- A short motion vignette on my friend Sarah Andrews which I'm really proud of, shot wide-open on the fixed 28mm/f1.7 Leica Q2 (my favourite digital camera of all time) & Zhiyun Crane 2 at Captains Rest.
- I've slowly but surely been working on product imagery for Dave Bell of Stray Systems, for their new range of 4x4 soft goods.
- Covid-19 has delayed shipping on my prints which are produced in Melbourne (currently under stage 4 lockdown) but they are continuing to trickle out...
Recent workshop outputs
Over the last month I've been busy producing a new range of surface objects from leather & German felt, flat travel pouches (for when we can travel again, naturally) and my console pocket for the Land Rover Defender, re-imagined in veg tan leather (I had formally produced them from technical sail fabrics) which I'm really happy with. The last month has also involved a re-branding of sorts, putting all of my work and energy under my own name and under a single umbrella.
Recent inputs
- DBC Pierre has recently released his latest book 'Meanwhile in Dopamine City' and Monocle caught up with him in their 'Meet the Writers' podcast — even if you don't plan on reading the book, have a listen for his dark, prescient, important and dire thoughts on technology, algorithms, pervasive advertising and data mining.
- My friend Emily Richmond who is tucked away in New Mexico working on her book, alerted me to this new documentary on one of my favourite writers, Bruce Chatwin: so here we have my favourite filmmaker creating a documentary on perhaps my favourite writer — it's almost too good to be true!
Elsewhere
My primary Instagram / Website & work / YouTube Channel / Workshop Instagram / Airbnb / Twitter
Reach out
If there is something you'd like me to riff on in the next edition or delve into further personally — simply reply to this email.
Colophon: written in Markdown with a dash of CSS in iA Writer (thanks for the tip Ross), captured via Squarespace + Zapier & shipped to you via Buttondown + various tubes.