Bark Europa

“Stunning sails.” That’s what our own Sailor’s Handbook calls them, and looking at these, we’re not going to argue.

They’re properly called studding sails, stuns’ls, if you want to say it the way a sailor does. Extra canvas set beyond the edges of the square sails, on booms that slide out past the ends of the yards.

EUROPA carries six, and they only come out when the ocean is in a generous mood. Wind from behind, a gentle sea, nothing too strong. Any real weather and they come straight back down. Which is part of their charm, you can go a long time without seeing them at all.

So when the call goes around that the stuns’ls are going up, people put down what they’re doing and come on deck to watch.

There’s no engine in the world that feels like this.

🌊 Book your voyage today: www.barkeuropa.com/en/our-voyages
📷 Fraser Edwards

Nobody puts the squalls in the brochure.

Here is the honest version of crossing an ocean: you don't get to choose the weather.

This stretch was meant to be steady trade winds, neat rows of cumulus and calm turquoise seas. Instead, a super El Niño threw the Pacific's usual order into chaos and handed us salt spray, headwinds and passing lashings of rain. There were two days when several of us regretted not packing a warmer wardrobe.

A squall announces itself twice. First as a blob creeping across the radar screen. Then as a wall of grey on the horizon, dragging its own rain underneath it and coming your way.

Then it's hands on deck. Set, strike, furl, brace. The wind jumps thirty or forty degrees and gusts past thirty knots. The ship bears away, shoulders through it, and a few minutes later it has gone and the sun is back out as though nothing happened.

Then another one builds, and you do it all again.

And here's the part we didn't expect. Look at these faces. Hauling on a line in the rain, soaked to the skin, laughing about it. Nobody asked for the squalls. Everybody remembers them.

Fair weather makes for a nice photo. Foul weather makes you a sailor, and it makes the story you'll be telling at home.

Ready for the days that don't go to plan?

🌊 www.barkeuropa.com/en/our-voyages
📷 Fraser Edwards

A majestic ship with all sails set, carving a path through a choppy ocean. Blue and white sea, blue and white sky, even the white sails might have a hint of blue in them. These are the images of tall ships you find in paintings and photographs on posters, brochures and websites.

Behind these images, below decks, there is another world. Some of the spaces here should be familiar to just about everyone: places to lie down to sleep, places to eat and drink. New voyage crew will also soon discover the galley, the laundry room and the little poker corner which also serves as the source of toilet paper and clean towels. Closer to the bridge are the office and the library, full of dictionaries and handbooks and pilots and other reference material, and below a staircase is a tiny closet, not for aspiring wizards but for vacuum cleaners.

Over the last few days the voyage crew has also been treated to tours of many other hidden spaces even further below decks, through heavy watertight doors and down hatches into the mysterious realm of the engineer. They call it a dungeon tour, but at times it’s more like a dungeon crawl.

What once was known as a switchroom is now the witchroom as the letter “s” has gone missing. If it is magic that looks at celestial bodies, be they stars or satellites, and guides a ship across vast oceans towards distant shores, whatever happens below decks is witchcraft. The bridge high above sees the world around the ship while the witchroom is her nervous system. Switches, lights, buttons. Dozens of tools hand on the walls and a drawer labeled “plugs n s**t” may or may not contain plugs n s**t.

Down a nearby hatch is the engine room. Buttons you really should not press, revolving gears, dormant machinery. The two diesel engines from the 1970s receive plenty of love since spare parts are limited and newer engines aren’t much of an option.

Another hatch down the central aisle opens into a space with diesel tanks and numerous containers of all sizes and yet further down the aisle the next hatch leads to a dry store full of flour and spices and other necessities. There are labeled crates and bags scattered in every possible nook and corner. The dry store is almost a pleasant environment, where you are a little less likely to injure yourself.

In the galley a doorway under a counter is reminiscent of wardrobes leading to other marvelous worlds, but this instead leads to sewage tanks and water treatment facilities and oppressive heat. Rearrange things and you could fit a sauna in here to cope with the colder days in the Southern Ocean. The fresh water generator is a luxury sailors of old did not know, and had they known the inquisition would have condemned it as alchemy and sorcery.

Finally at the bow is one final doorway to explore. The door is always open, but the heat and constant humming from the generator alone are enough to keep most visitors at bay. The most claustrophobic of them all, and if there aren’t backups and extras of everything already (there are), there’s enough here to cope with a main engine room malfunction or two.

And hidden somewhere deep inside the dungeon is the pole of love, where only true loves are to be registered. A heart B. Whether true loves are limited to love between sailors is unknown to the author. Love between sailor and ship. Love between sailor and sea.

✍️ Daniel, voyage crew
📷 Fraser Edwards

Meet the crew: Expedition Guide, Mike Barber

Nationality: Kiwi (New Zealand) 🇳🇿
Age: 44

Previous ships/experience sailing boats: Funded my way through university by teaching dinghy sailing and powerboating. Then in the holidays moved onto sailing yachts around Tonga and the Mediterranean as part of the lead crew for bareboat charters. More recently ships have been the platforms for me undertaking longer expeditions… both personally and professionally all over the world!

Hobby’s: Prety much all watersports, from surfing to kayaking, kitesurfing to scuba. I also love riding any one of my many bikes, often multi day bikepacking adventures or getting a helicopter to drop us off on top of a mountain for some downhill fun!

About me: I live in Christchurch, NZ. Where I can usually be found out on the water, pedaling a bike or playing in the mountains. I was brought up in the UK and have always been into the outdoors, both in my personal and professional life. Having worked as an outdoor instructor since university I never went and got a ‘real job’! So have spent my time running trips, voyages and expeditions all over the world. Ensuring I complete a few personal challenges along the way. If I’m indoors then I’m a big fan of the theatre and going to gigs, then just spending time with friends and family sharing stories about everyone’s adventures!

1. Can you tell us your name, your role, and your guiding experience so far?

Mike Barber - Expedition Leader

I’ve been fortunate to guide on all seven continents from high mountains to ocean crossings for over twenty years now. With groups of all ages and abilities, I’ve taken people into the New Zealand bush to build backcountry huts, visit historical sights in the Ross Sea - Antarctica, teach kids in remote villages in Nepal and guide people completing research at turtle nesting sights in Africa and some of my most favourite work, taking people on whale swims and water-based expeditions to encounter wild places and unique wildlife.

2. What is the one wildlife or landscape encounter that still gives you goosebumps, even after years of guiding?

As I mentioned above, my favourite wildlife encounters have probably been with the turtles and whales on the Comoros Islands off the African coast and in among the Pacific Islands. Completing research on both turtles and whales I was woken on the beach one morning with baby turtles hatching next to me and crawling over me to get to the ocean, I didn’t dare move as they tickled me and made their way to the surf. Then, on the same project I “played” with a baby humpback whale for about an hour in the water (with only a couple of cracked ribs to show for the mazing experience).

3. What is the most important thing our guests can do to be responsible visitors to the fragile island ecosystems?

Always listen to the advice of your guides and the locals who have been living in harmony with the wildlife for years. Be respectful, remember if having an encounter that you’re in their home and you need to give them the space, time and quiet they need to move freely. Stay relaxed and enjoy the magical moments you have, leaving nothing but memories for both you and the wildlife you’re seeing.

4. What do you hope is the one thing guests take home with them after a sailing voyage from French Polynesia to the Cook Islands?

I hope everyone experiences the feeling of relaxation, dedication and love for the environment that all Pacifica people show. More than that though… I hope everyone experiences how welcoming, loving and friendly the people are among the Pacific Islands. It’s one of the most special regions in the world for experiencing the wildlife, the scenery and some of the most beautiful and kind people in the world.

5. How can a traveler best prepare themselves to see the islands through the eyes of a local?

Always be open and curious to whatever is going on the islands. Whilst always being respectful ask questions of the people you meet and be interested in all the things you see going on. Remember that mythology, religion and spirituality has helped shaped these islands and the locals on them. If you can, read some of the stories from the Pacifica culture to help understand the locals beliefs and reasons why things happen.

6. What is your favorite part of sharing these islands with the Bark EUROPA sailing family?

I love seeing people experience the wonderful bright, happy and energising culture of the Pacific islands. My favourite thing is when people relax and understand the energy of the islands, hopefully I can help guests understand and experience the special nature of the Pacific!

🌊 Mike will be guiding the upcoming voyage from Tahiti to the Cook Islands.

🏝️ Join the next Pacific voyage from the Cook Islands-New Zealand: www.barkeuropa.com/en/our-voyages/cook-islands-auckland

Atolls are land built by sea creatures. From space, the Tuamotus look like the impression left behind after an octopus te****le slapped its suckers onto the sea’s surface. A line of rings scattered in the endless blue. What once were islands have long since eroded into turquoise lagoon, leaving behind only their coral fringe which has now developed into its own narrow strip of land.

Yesterday afternoon, we passed through a break in the north side of Fakarava. With a lagoon of 1112 km² and only a few narrow channels, tidal currents force water through these narrow gaps every ebb and flood cycle. We had to be careful to enter close to slack water, when currents are temporarily becalmed with the turning tide. The wavelets, however, still spiked like stiff meringue, indicating wind and current in opposition. Either side of the 850-meter pass were swirling eddies and deep patches of glassy smooth water. The pass was, in one crew member’s words, ‘Exciting, but thankfully not too exciting.’.

On exiting the channel, and entering the lagoon, the colour of the water shifted immediately to a postcard-turquoise. Admiring the thin band of white sands and palm trees that now surrounded us, we dropped anchor and waited for clearance into the country.

That evening, we stepped foot ashore, finding a spot for a wifi and a cocktail before returning to the ship for the grand spectacle of the Bark Europa Braai. There was a night of good food, conversation and laughter, but an early bed-time – we were eager for rest after nearly two weeks of sea watches, and eagerly anticipating the coming day.

Waking to pancakes for breakfast this morning, we prepared for a day of island exploration. Once ashore, we peeled off into smaller groups. Between walking, snorkelling, cycling, and hitchhiking, many of us planned to see as much of the atoll as possible. For others, a more leisurely day of reading in a shady spot and enjoying a quiet lunch was the more appealing option.

Fakarava is a picture-perfect island destination. Murals of dolphins decorated the small town’s buildings, and the lampposts were painted pastel pink. The island had just enough amenities for a comfortable stay – a gas station store, freshwater tap, bike rental shop, and, importantly, a couple of restaurants willing to open on a public holiday. Tourism is clearly one of the main industries here (alongside its black pearl farms), but the atoll has retained its rural character. Most businesses here are run from people’s residential properties – discreet signposts inform us on the services they provide. A singular road ribbons Fakaravas circumference, lined by vegetation, interspersed with buildings, backed by open ocean. The inner coastline is soft, lapped by small wind waves, ornamented with large corals and lined in parts by white sand beaches. The outer coast has a different character – choppy sapphire waters eat back at the reef, carving shelves and dropping off deeply. This Jekyll and Hyde landscape shows just how much variability the ocean holds, even within a small area.

Inevitably, we bumped into one another throughout the day, taking the opportunity to exchange stories of reef sharks and giant clams, or picturesque beaches, or friendly strangers, or delicious food. By nightfall, we all found our way back to the cocktail bar by the dingy dock. What an end to the day it was- sharing a Mojito or Piña Colada with close friends before a starry zodiac ride back home to our old lady. What an introduction to the Tuamotus.

✍️ Abi Smyth
📷 Fraser Edwards
🌊 Where will you sail next? www.barkeuropa.com/en/our-voyages