experience Archives - Sail Element

The better direction planning…

By: Noah D.

“If everyone’s worst problem was thrown into a pile together, you might have trouble getting yours back.” ~my mother

So long ago that I can’t even find it, I wrote an article about plans. The gist of it was that, if I had done exactly what I intended to do with my life immediately after graduating high school, I would have been letting myself down. I could have never expected what I’ve done at my mere 28 years of age.

Now… …over the past few months, and in an uncharacteristically forward thinking act, Lynn and I have been developing a plan for the next few years. Let’s call it “The Three Year Plan.” This plan included staying in England for Lynn to finish her degree. This would allow us to both get visas that would expire in approximately three years (end of 2017). She would go to school; I would work. We would sail and live on Proteus during this time, save money, and get ready for the moment when we would sail away at the end of our “England Years” and spend a little time (or a lot) doing some serious cruising.

As of now, all that little plan is breaking down. Proteus is fine. We are fine. But my visa is not.

Essentially, a relatively obscure fine print in the vast tome that is the UK Immigration Law is preventing me from getting a visa with Lynn. She can get a visa. I cannot. She can stay until 2017. I cannot. But, in her words, “I don’t care where it is. Where you go… I go.” There is a chance that I could sue to remain with her; however, the success of such a thing in such a legalistic society is quite remote. Pleading with a judge based on “…but, we want to be together because… love!” only works in Disney movies, not immigration court. These appeals also take a long time to go through. There’s a slightly higher chance that I’ll meet a miracle man (or woman) and someone will hire me, qualifying me for a different type of visa that is separate from Lynn’s. These other visas are based, by and large, on qualifications and the amount of money you make in the job that someone promises you.

But these chances are exactly that – chances – and we must prepare for contingencies. All things change for those who wait.

A new direction…

The foundation of the Original Plan – of which Proteus is a major part – is still solid. More than solid, actually. The unforeseen visa dilemma, though, has gutted the middle part of the plan. Like the long Tetris piece perfectly fitting to complete and vaporize a whole four-row section all at once, the “three year” part of this plan has vanished and everything above it has fallen to meet the base. Sailing away from England in the Winter is becoming a distinct reality.

Not only a distinct reality, but a matter of days away. Over the past few weeks, we have fully moved our entire existence into Proteus. As recently as yesterday, even, I closed out our small storage unit and got rid of the final few items that could not fit in the boat. In a few days, the final few things tying us to the UK will dissolve and we will be a little island of our own. The first week of December, we will be sailing Proteus out of the UK and into a non-British country (Ireland) before Christmas. After Christmas, we will begin our trek home… and that is where things get exciting.

Sailing plans are normally written in sand, as the old saying goes, but we have established a tentative schedule. For now, the end of our route is definitely a return to Haiti, the uber-beautiful Ile-a-Vache. We should be there sometime in late-Spring. And then – eventually – we will see what we find after that point. We’ll likely find jobs doing something and Lynn will finish her year or so of school…

…and then… I suppose there are no limits to where we could go. I feel as though we are entering the serendipitous realms of such storytelling sailors as World Tour Stories (who just had a similar abrupt change of plans), White Spot Pirates, Matt & Jessica (also changing plans), Delos, and so many others. We rather aspire to similar good fortune in their travels.

And finally, it must be said, when all this stuff started going down, Lynn and I discussed having two bedrock-solid factors in our lives: each other… and our Proteus. I hope you’ll stay tuned… because there’s absolutely no way of knowing what is coming up next.

“Remember that sometimes not getting what you want is a wonderful stroke of luck.”
~Dalai Lama

On buying and registering a boat as an expat…

By: Noah D.

Now, there is absolutely no reason to take what I am about to say as any sort of legal advice. This is simply a record of my experience with the fact that I am a US citizen living in the UK on a visa, purchasing a boat in the UK, with the intent to keep (and use) the boat in the UK for an extended period of time… and then go sail it around the world. Eventually.

Contrary to what the forums would have you believe, it is not rocket science to purchase a boat overseas. The whole process is merely checking boxes. Is that an oversimplification? Not really, to be honest with you. All that matters to the guy checking all your documents is that you have all the boxes checked.

The problem comes with knowing which boxes to check. And, good lord, are they spread far and wide.

Purchasing a Boat

A boat or yacht, for the most part, does not fall under the typical categories of purchased goods. I say for the most part because in some instances a boat is a “possession”… in some places it is an “asset.” But lets not get bogged down in that quite yet. The thing to know is that purchasing a large(ish) yacht is somewhere between buying a house and buying a car. It is not a house because it is fully mobile, but it is not a car because it is even more mobile than a car and is governed by different laws (mainly related to international conventions). In more ways than not, you may compare a yacht purchase with the purchase of a private aircraft.

A US citizen can purchase a boat in the UK. Or practically anywhere in the world, for that matter. The exchange rate is fickle, but that’s one of the things that any expat will grow accustomed to. I strongly suggest dealing with a reputable broker, like our friends at Burton Waters in Ipswich, UK. A good broker can be your best friend in a complicated issue like this. They’ve done it hundreds of times and will do it a hundred more.

Dealing with a broker feels a little like dealing with a good name-brand car dealership. There should never be any high-pressure sales tactics or shady business going on. But the negotiation process will feel similar. My last car, bought new, cost literally less than a fifth of what Proteus costs, but the whole process seemed familiar and was handled in the same way. Offers are made, counter-offers are discussed after going behind closed doors with the business manager, etcetera etcetera.

The biggest factor with international yacht purchases will be the fact that you will be almost certainly turned down for a mortgage or a loan from a UK agency. As a US citizen on a visa, you’re just too much of a risk. (…unless, of course, you’re making heaps of money.) For all intents and purposes, wherever the money is coming from (personal loan, equity, boat mortgage) you’re going to be paying cash for it as a huge bank transfer. (NOTE: Lending agencies like BoatUS often have a policy in their fine print of only loaning money to boat purchased in the USA. Keep this in mind.)

Otherwise, the process is extremely similar to buying a boat anywhere, even at the boat dealer in your home town. After putting a security deposit down, you sign your “intent to buy,” you get the survey done from a licensed marine surveyor, you do sea trials, you agree to the terms of payment, you make the payment, you finalize the transaction, you get the paperwork and the keys to your new – or new to you – yacht.

Value Added Tax (VAT) and Sales Tax Considerations

The European Union and the European Economic Area have this thing called VAT. It is akin to sales and use taxes in the USA. However, what people have difficulty understanding is that VAT is a transaction tax tied to the importation of the thing (boat, camera, table, etc) into the EU/EEA. Thankfully, the powers that be have made this VAT a one-time thing when it comes to boats. So, with your purchase, you get a little piece of paper – essentially a receipt – that says that the VAT is paid on your boat and, as long as you do not keep it out of the EU for a really long time or resell it outside the EU, the VAT PAID status will stick.

Proteus, though she is a USA-built vessel, had her VAT paid by the previous owner when it was registered in the UK after being kept in Guernsey. (Guernsey, in the Channel Islands, is not technically in the EU.) That means that the boat is already imported, so the fact that the yacht is changing hands to a US citizen is largely irrelevant as far as HM Revenue is concerned.

We will get our comeuppance, however, when we decide to eventually move Proteus to the USA. On arrival – not on documentation or registration – the customs official is likely to have his hand out for us to pay a 1.5% import tax on the purchase value of the boat. That said, we MIGHT have some alleviation with this because the boat was originally built in Florida, but… I’m not going to get my hopes up.

Registering a Boat

Again, contrary to what the internet forums would have you believe, yacht registration mustn’t be so complicated. Nor must it be done with anxiety or lived with with insecurities. In brief, an American citizen cannot legally register a yacht in the UK. People out there will tell you that “As long as you have a UK address, nobody every checks.” Be that as it may, do you really want to gamble that? And there’s another factor…

The most important thing in dealing with registration/documentation is to have everything “look right.” And, by “look right” I do not mean doing anything to deceive anyone. This is what I mean: “A US citizen, with legal authority to live/work in the UK (visa), is on a boat which he legally owns and is legally imported into the European Union (VAT paid) and is legally registered with the US Coast Guard and the state in which he legally resides.”

Perhaps I’m being too by-the-book, but there is just so little to be gained from deceiving anyone: I could not care less about anecdotal evidence on forums. And, when cruising around Europe, I don’t want to be dreading the customs official raising his eyebrow at my helter-skelter registration paperwork.

So, all that said, here is what is legal for an American expat, buying and registering a boat in the UK. When you have all your paperwork (title, bill of sale, etc), document the boat with the USCG and register the boat in your home state with a US address. It takes a few days to get the paperwork through, but it isn’t too hard. You’ll have to claim a name and home port and have these inscribed on the hull. And the USCG will give you a documentation number that must be affixed to the interior of the boat somewhere.

Secondly, registering your boat in your home state shouldn’t be difficult considering the fact that most UK visas are not technically “residency” visas, meaning that you will maintain some legal residency in the USA. Most people stick with their parents for simplicity – and cheapness – sake. Anyways, to register the boat in your state, all you have to do is take the paperwork (bill of sale, title, etc) to the county courthouse and register it just like you would a little fishing boat or a daysailer. You’ll be given a sticker and a registration number. Here’s where it gets different: the sticker goes on the boat in a conspicuous location, but the state registration number is actually NOT LEGAL to put on a USCG documented boat. (I think it is better anyway: keep those ugly-ass numbers off the hull!) The only numbers that go on the boat is those that the USCG gave you for the interior. Mine are next to the nav station, glued on tightly.

As for off-shore registrations or LLC’s? Personally, I’ve never been to the BVI, but I could easily register my boat there. Still, some people swear by them as a practical alternative. I can’t help but feel like it is a tax dodge. I also don’t see it as “simple” because of all the following cost and tax oddities involved. The cost and frustration and legal maneuvering is definitely higher (at least every option I saw was). Is it legal? Yeah, I guess. But you might want to be careful next time you’re bemoaning Big Business CEOs for tax sheltering in the Caymans while your boat is flying the flag of Macau…

Insurance Matters

You guys slay me with all your non-insured boats out there. I tend to be a bit of a free spirit, but it just seems reckless. The problem comes from the fact that a US registered boat won’t be getting insurance from small-time UK insurance agencies anytime soon. I mean, it only makes sense. And not all US insurance agencies are going to insure a boat 5000 miles away. Your choices are limited.

Personally, we are with Yachtline. There are others, but we are more than pleased with them. They’re a major company, and I believe they’re backed by heavy-hitter Lloyd’s of London. And they’re very fair about our cruising range: pretty much the entirety of northern Europe and the British Isles from Brest to the Elbe. We pay less than 1% of the surveyed value of the boat per year for full coverage and liability. Paying a little bit (tiny, in the grand scheme of yacht ownership) a year or risk completely losing a six-figure boat that we love as much as Han Solo loves the Millennium Falcon? I just cannot justify the risk.

Another factor that came in to play was that I lacked my official International Certificate of Competence. Some insurers I talked to was wary of me because of this and a few gave me insultingly high quotes accompanied with severe range restrictions. If you’re an expat with a big boat in international waters, you’re certainly entering into specialty insurance and some insurer’s prices reflect this. I’m working on taking the RYA tests all the way up to Yachtmaster Ocean (even though I’ve been on the water most of my life), so at least that’ll be one more thing that cannot be held against me.

Accessory Registrations

Just like most places in the world, you’ll need your VHF registered with the FCC (for the US) which is accepted in the UK. This is one of those grey areas, too, but keeping all the registrations in the same country just feel a little less fishy to the guy checking your papers. The FCC has a surprisingly straightforward application process (for a government agency that regulates a very complicated thing). You should be able to get your call-sign and MMSI number with minimal suffering.

I mentioned it earlier in my insurance negotiations, but… The thing that is accepted everywhere, and I personally recommend, is all those licenses and yachtmaster classes to put towards your International Certificate of Competence. The RYA itself is a veritable treasure trove of information on all things boat education and, as a member, you have unlimited access to all their resources. There are tons of private (but RYA authorized) training centers in London alone. My personal favorite is CitySailing. Paul, there, has been amazingly helpful and I cannot recommend it enough.

Believe it or not, if you have a state boating license (required to operate a boat in most US states) it is looked upon somewhat favorably by the powers that be internationally. It certainly is not an ICC – not even close – but it is better than nothing!

Conclusion

In the end, it all comes down to the fact that you have a very expensive thing, capable of moving across international borders, and there must be a certain amount of regulation involved. The idea behind having such a ridiculous thing as a passage-making yacht is to actually use it and make some passage. Sailing under a US flag and having everything on board match that US flag will go far in making some little tiny South Pacific island customs agent feel like everything is above board. Have a US citizen ride in on a boat registered who-knows-where with a bunch of other things that don’t match…? Tell me, why shouldn’t you be detained for 4 hours while all the numbers are run through their Windows95 computers on a 56k dialup modem…?

As everything is in the internets, take everything with a few grains of salt (even this blog!), and go out there and figure it out yourself. Don’t take my word for it. Here’s a few links that will help you on your way:

MarineTitle.com – A Reference for US Coast Guard documentation and state registration information
US Coast Guard Documentation Center – information and forms for USCG documentation
HM Revenue & Customs – Sailing your pleasurecraft to and from the UK
US Customs & Border Protection – Importing a boat for personal use into the USA
Small Ships Register – Registering a boat in the UK
International Certificate of Competence – how to apply for an ICC

Once I was the new guy…

By Noah D.

I came to London the first time in 2008. Since, then I have spent quite a bit of time here: coming up on one year with nary a break.

But I was once the guy on the street corner staring at a map. I had never been to St.Paul’s or walked from the Houses of Parliament to the Tower Bridge on either side of the river. I didn’t know the difference between Leicester Square and Covent Garden and Piccadilly Circus or Oxford Circus or what happens at those different places. Less than that, I didn’t even venture a guess at what a “Shoreditch” was or the best place to exchange money.

The expat community in London is quite large. I wonder how many take a little pride when a friend visits and says: “Could you show me around?”

I assure you, it doesn’t happen in small towns very often. You usually need a purpose to visit small towns. Not that they’re not friendly, of course, but why else would you go there?

Perhaps it is even a point of pride, but being in London and being on the streets this much puts me in a position of responsibility: a position of hospitality. It is certainly not a heavy burden, per se, but it is one I take seriously. If I can help someone have a good experience in “my town” then it is up to me to give it a shot… even if it is more walking than you’ve done in weeks. 🙂

But shouldn’t that be the way of the world? Not passing each other on the street with indifference, but almost as the monks do in their hallways, blessing each other and wishing each other well in their journey. To be unrealistic, should I not wish to bless each of the throngs of holidayers clogging the exit of Tottenham Court Road station? Should I not hope to wish the Random Stoppers as they walk along in a crowd and suddenly turn around to flow upstream like a salmon to spawn?

I’m being a little idealistic, but I have to wonder: why extend hospitality and illumination to only your friends on the rare occasion they come into town when you’re around dozens and hundreds and thousands of people every day who you might just be the light in their rather dark world.

If you’re ever in town, look me up. I’d love to show you around…

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NOTE: In the interest of full disclosure, this post originally appeared here. I post it here because of its relevance to recent events and the fact that I, too, need to listen to my own thoughts from time to time.

GEAR: The MSR Hubba Hubba… one year later.

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By Noah

Twenty-four hours after this pair of photographs were taken, I experienced the most difficult night of my life. And, though that might sound like an inflated statement, here’s a little of the circumstances surrounding this photograph:

My friend, Philip, and I–both photojournalists–were working on a project with the shepherds in the southeastern Caucasus. This particular evening in Georgia, we were in the lowlands awaiting our hosts: shepherds of the arid Samoukhi region in the far southeast tip of Georgia. This beautiful location (exactly here) is final staging ground for shepherds who will make the hard push up and over the Abano Pass into the summer grazing grounds.

This particular night of relative comfort–due to the tent–was followed by hiking approximately 20 miles from 1500ft to 9500ft the next day… at which point we were in conditions too bad and too urgent for the tent, so we “slept” in every piece of clothing we owned (including our coats)… inside a sleeping bag… under our rain cloaks… surrounded by all our gear… rolled in a blue tarpaulin.

Now, that wouldn’t be so bad, except the fact that outside our little blue burritos were about 6000 sheep, goats, cows, and horses. At this point, none of us–not even the shepherds–had eaten much other than vodka-soaked bread and some canned tuna (I think it was?) and half-way wild onions for the last 36 hours. This was the danger of this trek at this time of year: all the livestock are pushed hard because there is nothing to eat above the tree-line.

I mention the hunger issue not to make you pity us, but pity the sheep and the fact that I was nibbled and stepped on countless times during the night. Somewhere around 3am, I was nibbled on and whatever-it-was pinched the skin of my shoulder… so, I punched it through the many layers. The satisfaction of clocking a random animal in the middle of the night was short-lived…

The conditions were complete misery. For the few minutes of sleep I might have gotten, I spent most of the time shivering and soaking wet. It had been “raining” lightly as we lay down; however, I think it was just pervasive clouds. And to tell you how pervasive was the water… everything–literally everything–was wet. Every layer of the 5 or 6 that I had on was wet. Even under my back, which was inside the sleeping bag all night. The only thing that was not wet was the contents of a $10 oversized dry bag that my cameras and notebooks were inside and I had been very careful not to open it.

What a strange way to start a review of a tent: a night in the most miserable conditions I’ve ever experienced and I didn’t even put up the tent! I give you this little anecdote because that is the situations in which I have no problem taking this tent. Even though the situation did not allow for it to be set up this time, it would have handled it, I have no doubt.

Rewind one year to the first time I ever used the tent for an extended period of time:

I rather consider it a shakedown cruise of my equipment and myself. For eight days, I bicycled from Nashville, Tennessee, to Natchez, Mississippi: the entire length of the Natchez Trace. For 444 miles over eight days I lived on a Jamis Aurora Elite expedition bike and lived in the MSR Hubba Hubba NX Tent.

The 2014 version of this tent has been redesigned, but my copy–the 2013 version–I actually slightly prefer due entirely because it is green. (Though it is a tough find these days.) I wouldn’t have thought much of this until I saw it in action. One hazard of wild camping–especially certain places in the world–is being bothered by people. The tent, though kind of lime green, blends in well with the environment. The new version, however, is all red and grey… certainly a little more stylish, but a bit less natural colors.

One thing that I do recommend with this tent is the proper MSR Tent Footprint that is built for it.

Now, why is discussing a tent relevant for a sailing site? One of the coolest things I’ve seen people do while sailing routes like the Great Loop is to actually get out of the boat and camp along the way.

Notable things to mention…?

This tent can put up with some of the most ridiculous conditions I’ve thrown at it. But don’t think that means it is difficult to set up or break down. It literally sets up in 7 or 8 minutes and, from the experience of the morning after the top photo was taken, it can be broken down in perhaps 60 seconds. Most importantly, footprint, structure, and rain fly packs down to the size of an American football (maybe a fraction larger) and weighs much less. I can pack it into luggage for international assignments and I don’t have to sacrifice too much else.

The tent is also spectacularly designed. Having spent weeks and weeks worth of time in this tent, I’ve never felt a drip on the inside that I didn’t inadvertently bring in. The design extends to the rope-free set-up. The tent pegs are really perfectly designed to hold each corner and the rainfly without fuss. I’ve been in a few storms with (Force 3-4) wind and I haven’t worried about it at all.

Don’t expect it to keep you too warm, but shockingly, the interior of the tent says warmer than I expected considering how breathable the material actually is.

Complaints?

The Hubba Hubba (two Hubba’s) version says “2-person.” Yeah, that is true. But you probably need to be quite good friends with them. I used it as a 1-person tent while on the Natchez Trace and kept all my equipment inside. With two people, the only space you have is for lying down. The rainfly extension becomes the gear shed, which the footprint does not extend to… meaning, if it rains, water will be running under your gear… or shoes.

It also has only a very small little pocket on either end for storage. It really might not matter very much to some people, but I could see how this Gear Loft could be a nice addition.

Conclusion

Would I buy it again? Absolutely. It is not the biggest tent in the world (far from it) but it is perfect for extended living in rough conditions. MSR (Cascade Designs) have constructed a serious tent and not wasted anything while not stripping it down too far.

Is it a perfect tent to keep aboard a boat? Yes. Put it in a little out-of-the-way compartment. And when you need to take it to shore in your tender, you won’t even know it is on the boat.

A monetizing mention:

Though my comments and opinions about the tent itself are entirely my own and generated from real-world use, the links I post that open to Amazon are actually part of an Amazon Associates program. If you are in the market for these products, please click through and purchase them by my referral. It costs you nothing extra and I get a percentage of the sale cost:

MSR Hubba Hubba NX Tent
MSR Hubba Hubba Tent Footprint
MSR Universal Gear Loft

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