If you thought I had abandoned this blog… well, you’re right. I confess, I almost did. I’ve been using other means to post pictures, adding captions to simulate a story line. It’s been enough so far. But today, while uploading a flood of shots this morning, I realized I’d been using it wrongly. A twitter-like platform is —as it’s always been— just a way to let people know you’re releasing a longer entry somewhere else.
There are several downsides for committing that offense. For one, the story reads backward for people who catch up afterwards —almost 100% of them. Infuriating people with too many pictures is another. That’s when it hit me: I still have this thing I once called a blog more suitable for making posts more… sound at least. So here I am, coming back to blogging, narrating my on-the-go sea-fairing photo shoots of late. Expanded version too…
For context, this series of pictures is from the Topless Sailors Club cruise on Monday, September 15, 2025. Out on the waves (yes, they are there even if you don’t see them), you can glimpse, in the pic above, a mix of sail and motor boats —all welcome— plus at least a pair of planes flying under the clouds. I showed up a little late, so this group is made up of late arrivals trying to catch up with the rest. That never happens… It never does because, even though the advertised wind speed for the event is 15 kts, the longer the route (such as this one) the faster people want to go. Can’t blame them for that, really; no multitasker wants to spend two hours skipping a boat (that uncertain are sim crossings sometimes), fearing a crash at any moment. My average speed over the course was 18 kts, dropping to 15 or even 11 when approaching groups squeezing through narrow waterways together as if there were no tomorrow. For instance, check out the pic above, where all those boats are turning south at that corner, packed so tightly there’s hardly room to maneuver. Now compare it with the shot below: same spot, just a few seconds earlier, with only me out front.
There are plenty of black-and-white lighthouses along the coasts of Bellisseria, where this cruise took place. Some rise dark and tall, some glow softly, and others cast beams as sharp as lightning. It probably depends on the time of day in the region you’re sailing through: I guess in daylight they stay dim, at dusk or night maybe they light up with varying intensity according to level of darkness. One thing is for sure: if your boat is B&W too, they make a perfect match, such as this pair in the pic above.
Bellisseria is full of rezzing zones. This one, which is actually a train station, works well for both water and land rides. A helicopter or even a seaplane could use it too, so restricting it for what it looks good for is not making good use of resources.
Another good thing about Bellisseria is its —seemingly— stability. Crashes are less frequent (at least for me) probably due to rezzing the same building props continuously, which put much less stress on the computer. It’s also a pretty expanse maintained under a more robust and enforced covenant, unlike the mainland continents. While that is a techie advantage, it feels restrictive for some folks, but for sailing there’s hardly anything better, imho.
The boat I used this time is the old faithful Bandit 50/3. It’s neither big or small, travels at a comfortable speed, and comes with a nice set of animations most other boats lack. Lowering and raising the sails takes some effort and timing because if you don’t issue a command before a tight corner, for example, you can easily get into trouble. Even autopilot —my preferred sailing method while taking pictures— demands attention. Still, it’s lively and a lot more fun.
This time, I had the unintentional company of two boats that stick together for quite a while. We kept the course, the wind, and the way in concert, never stepping into each others’ way despite the occasional script glitch.
Nevertheless, eventually one of us had to stop, and the trio split into a duo for another while. Phone calls are notorious for causing that kind of behavior, but in this case, looking closer, the extended arms of the lady in the foreground boat may indicate it was a hissy fit caused by too many sim crossings. This has been happening frequently lately, and I’m not sure why. The easiest way to fix it sometimes is to stop, stand up and board the vehicle once more.
The remaining two vessels kept going until the currents drifted them apart. Entering that canal in the picture on the right marked the end of our reduced company. I carried on alone for the rest of the trip, counting down the final tacks. Everything went well right up to the end, which is pretty amazing for such a long journey.
Pictures first posted on my Primfeed account.