Long before living in tiny houses became a big trend, sailors did exactly that. Living a good life in a small space with scarce resources. Not necessarily because they had slim wallets, but because they wanted to go sailing and space is always limited on a boat.

Life would have it that I could fulfil a lifelong dream four years ago. I had been sailing extensively, winter and summer, along the Norwegian coast. The wind always lured me out on new adventures.

And I was always happy as soon as the dock disappeared behind me. Back home again I had flashbacks sitting by my desk. Flashback of anchorages, windy passages, morning swims, and whales breaching. It was like a Post Duress Happy Disorder – a letter combination everyone should have as a diagnostic.

Surrendering to a life at sea

After a long winter adventure in Lofoten in the winter of 2020, it became clear that my boat life would be permanent. It was time to let my earthly things go. My boat awaited. And the amount of stuff I had accumulated was just sickening.

A 45ft boat has no room for four suits and a tuxedo with matching shoes, so much outdoor equipment that I could equip a six-man team for an ascent of Everest, a lawn mower, paintings, and enough kitchenware to support a village. Did I need all of it? Not even a quarter. But the most vital question is: Can the planet handle that kind of consumption? No.

The south coast of Norway is littered with summer cabins, many of them way bigger than a big home. The cupboards they need to fill up to make it a second home for a few short weeks a year are sad.

There I was in my boat, sailing along downwind towards Lindesnes, the southernmost lighthouse in Norway. I had all my gear stowed away in Njord, my aluminium 45ft sailing boat, yet I still felt I had room for a little more gear. But I had no intention of buying any. After sorting out what I needed to live a good life, what was nice to have, and what I didn’t need, I was happy with my choices.

My boat was now my home.

After a long 48 hours downwind and reaching passage, I could finally get some rest. Instead of sailing into the very well-protected harbour of Egersund, I passed the entrance and navigated through a maze of crab pots into the anchorage east of Eigerøy Lighthouse.

One of the many satisfying things about anchoring is that you don’t have to spend any money. As soon as you tie up in harbour your credit card starts to live a life of its own. Harbour fees, dinner out, more groceries, maybe a souvenir, ice cream, and a beer. It’s all nice, but it’s far from a sailing adventure.

Instead, I dropped anchor and watched the lighthouse sweeping its colours over the ocean while sipping my beer and enjoying some leftovers from last night’s dinner. My mind calmed and drifted.

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Environmental debt

The date is 12 May, exactly one month since the Norwegian overshoot day. 12 April, 2024 was the date the Norwegian people used the resources available this year. All the natural resources we consume after this date are more than the planet can reproduce. It’s like spending 12 months of salary in the first four months and then taking up a loan to cover the rest
of the year.

Our children and grandchildren will have to pay that loan with interest, and then some. World Overshoot Day is in August, and in the last 35 years, the date has been pushed three months in the wrong direction. And there is no sign that we will reverse this race to the bottom.

So there I sit in the cockpit of my little floating home. I’ve got everything. For the last three years I haven’t bought any new clothes. I don’t need to.

If I buy a new shirt I have to throw one I already have. All of them fit and still look good. So why should I? The small space of a sailing boat has made me think more about my choices.

When I find something I want to buy, I think about it for at least 48 hours. The conclusion is almost always that I don’t need it. So I don’t buy it.

I wake up to a new day. It is still blowing from the north, so I stay and reel in a 1.2kg cod. Dinner for the next coming days is secured. And even better: I can avoid harbors and shops for even longer. I have food and water.

We live in a society that is built around consumption. Are you feeling a little hungry? There is always a convenience store close by that offers ultra-processed fast food. Thirsty for coffee? Pop into a coffee bar. Spilled coffee on your shirt?

Buy a new one for a few quid. We have lost the ability to make plans because everything is available almost 24/7. And we don’t need to repair anything because it is cheaper to buy a new gadget or trousers. We have become consumers, and the thing we consume is the planet we are supposed to hand over to the next generation.

It’s a depressing thought indeed. And it does not match the sunset in Utoskavågen, just north of Bergen. I finally got some south-westerlies and did a 36-hour sail partly offshore and then in between the rocks and islands after Haugesund. The landscape with white-capped mountains in the distance does lighten my mood. And the fact that, as a liveaboard, I am at least doing something to try and lighten the burden we are placing on our ocean and planet.

Ocean therapy

The next morning I jump into the 12°C water. That’s one of the many perks of living on a boat. The morning swim clears the head, invigorates the body, and makes me meet the new day smiling.

I have always liked starting the day by jumping in, no matter what temperature. Last year I read the book Blue Mind by Wallace J. Nichols and discovered why water is so liberating.

The Blue Mind theory is the idea that proximity to water will ease your mind into a meditative state. It will connect you to water and yourself. Hopefully, it also makes you realise that you have to make an effort to save the ocean as a way of saying thanks.

Fresh water is a scarce resource all over the world.

The prediction is that it will be even scarcer in the future. Living on a boat makes you appreciate the water you have and encourages you to save as much as possible. This morning’s swim saved me a couple of litres as I didn’t shower. I have a foot pump in the galley that lets me pump in saltwater, and helps me save fresh water. It is, or should be, a standard long-distance setup on boats. I wash veggies and cook potatoes and eggs in salt water, to mention just a few.

I hoist the anchor and head north again. The wind is still pushing me from behind and my favourite sail set up, wing-on-wing, is rigged. I am in no hurry, and even if the wind just gives us 3.5 knots speed I let the engine rest. Diesel, just like water, is a scarce resource. It will also kill the sound of waves and birds, and contribute to the ever-warming of the planet and acidification of the ocean.

I have been thinking of changing to an electric engine, but I will stick with what I’ve got for the moment. In the big equation, it seems better to use the diesel engine until it breaks instead of contributing to yet another ‘thing’ being produced.

But as the fuel prices continue to rise it will come to a point where sail and electric propulsion will be the only viable solution. I am looking forward to it, as it will force us to think of sailing in a different way. When propulsion time is limited by battery capacity we have to let the wind decide our destination. Like right now.

Less is more when sailing

The wind has picked up and should be this way for the coming 48 hours. The solar panels are sucking up the sun and the wind generator hums happily. They both power my autopilot, instruments, fridge, and freezer. So I decide to sail as long as the wind would carry me. I pass the mighty Stad, the Cape Horn of Norway, with a tired face and decide to hold my course offshore so I can get a little shut-eye.

Two days later and very sleep-deprived – but very happy – the wind dies and I snuggle up in my bed safely anchored in one of my many favourite spots, Hjartøya, west of Sandnessjøen.

The cod that I caught in Eigerøya is eaten, and there is not much left in the fridge. I have no bread, but I will make do with all the pasta, eggs, onions, and cans I have. Less is way more when you are cruising, and experiencing nature gliding silently through a magical landscape. The Arctic Circle is just a day’s sail away. I sleep like the baby I am.

In ten days I have placed my home under the midnight sun, and it is here that I will stay for the coming month. Picking my remote anchorages, fishing just what I can eat, meeting new people that live on and from this ocean, letting the wind decide where to sail, which just allows me to be here in the moment.

The lesson here is to look after the ocean and the ocean will look after you.

About the Brian Black Memorial Award

YM’s Brian Black Memorial Award, which celebrates the best written and video storytelling about marine environmental issues as explored by boat, is sponsored by Coppercoat, makers of the environmentally responsible multi-season antifoul.

For the last 35 years, Coppercoat has offered an award-winning alternative to self-ablating antifouls that are expensive and time-consuming to apply annually, while also leaching uncontrolled amounts of the toxic biocides into the marine environment. Tests by sailing magazines, commercial operators and for offshore installations have repeatedly found Coppercoat to be the best-performing product with a negligible impact on the waters it is in.

The company constantly works to improve its product, packaging and operations to further reduce its footprint, and is delighted to support this initiative to promote healthy seas.

Award-winning environmental broadcast journalist Brian Black was passionate about the marine environment and eloquent in his writing and filmmaking about the crises facing fragile Arctic ecosystems. He was also a lifelong sailor and contributor to YM. His wife Lesley was a sailor and author in her own right, becoming Northern Ireland’s first female yacht club commodore. Both passed away in recent years.

The Black family, with YM, established a journalism award in their name to celebrate sailing adventures which shed fresh light on marine environmental issues. The judges include round-the-world race winner, multiple world champion Mike Golding OBE, six-time circumnavigator Dee Caffari MBE, TV presenter and marine biologist Monty Halls, conservation expert Dr Robert Brown OBE, marine environmental consultant and daughter of Brian and Lesley Black, Sarah Brown, and the YM team. The award is sponsored by Coppercoat and supported by the Green Blue, the RYA, Imray, the Royal Highland Yacht Club, the Irish Cruising Club, and the Ocean Cruising Club.

There are two prizes, each of £2,000 for the best video and for the best written article and images. In 2024, the theme was ‘Treading lightly’. YM will also be making a donation of £1,000 marine conservation funding charity Sea-Changers.

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