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M
artin Prins loves to
rock the dock, re-
gardless of whether
it’s in Europe, the States or
New Zealand. Ditto cockpits,
yacht clubs and beaches. He’s
a large, easygoing Dutch sailor
who lives aboard his Bavaria
46 Acapella with his wife, Ellen
Reijndorp, an electric bass
guitar and some dog-eared
passports.
We fi rst met musically last
year in Tahiti and have been
bumping into each other at var-
ious Pacifi c cruiser parties ever
since. Yesterday we jammed
together in Whangarei, New
Zealand, at the Town Basin,
along with a dozen other
circumnavigators.
Martin enjoys nurturing
musical talent almost as much
as playing. He manages to
encourage his fellow musicians
without stressing them out.
Some members of our informal
scratch band have been playing
for, oh, two weeks or so, while
others have been plucking for
a lifetime. Maestro Martin
knows it isn’t about getting the
performance perfect but rather
enjoying the musical moment.
He peers over his bass guitar,
gives me a nod, and says, “Make
some noise, Fatty.”
I nervously take a solo, miss
the chord change but recover
during the turnaround of the
12-bar one-four-fi ve chord
blues progression. A lusty
cheer goes up from my fellow
pickers. After all, I hung in and
managed to—kinda—rally at
the end. The group is support-
ive, to say the least. “You hadall the right notes, chords and
the vocals,” someone quipped.
“Now it is just a matter of
playing them at the same time.”
So true. That’s why Martincalls it “making noise” rather
than soloing. Making noise isn’t
nearly as intimidating. Every
week, one or two intrigued
members of our Kiwi audiencewordlessly morph from passive
listeners into shy creators.
“Soon every Jack Tar on the
North Island will be in the
band,” marvels a Euro multi-
hull sailor with a rusty kazoo.
“How ’bout playing Dylan’s
‘All Along the Watchtower’?”
asks David Irvin, of the 65-foot
S&S-designed, aluminum
Rewa, built by Abeking &
Rasmussen. “It’s only three
chords.” Three chords are plen-
ty for many of us. Thank God
for “Eleanor Rigby,” which has
only two.
Martin and David are not
the only string pluckers with
nurturing skills. The dynamic
duo of Larry Hamilton and Sue
Holt, two ukulele-crazed East
Coast sailors aboard a well-
found Formosa 46, Serengeti,
are the social glue that holds us
far-fl ung musicians together.
Sue is Canadian and was a
dinghy champion in her youth.
Moving south, she became
the marketing director for
Beneteau USA. Larry’s been
involved with various cruising
boats for three decades. Their
dream as a couple was to sail
the world, and that’s exactly
what they are doing.
“No schedule,” Sue admits.
“No master plan. Just cruising
fun from here on out!”
“We were both a bit
concerned about leaving
our careers and venturing
offshore,” Larry says. “But we
never looked back. The cruis-
ing life is amazingly fulfi lling,
and the musical camaraderie
we share makes it even better.”
Why the growingOften at beach parties in paradise, the band sets up under a palm tree within earshot of the main
group, and the sailors wander back and forth between the conversationalists and the rockers. Instant
barefoot dance party!BY CAP’N FATTY GOODLANDEREast Coast sailors Sue Holt and Larry Hamilton, with
ukuleles in hand, are ready to “make some noise” with
Fatty (top). Martin Prins welcomes one and all to the dock
jams (above right). Songwriter Lisa Benckhuysen pulled
together a cruiser tune for Tonga’s Bluewater Festival.BANDMATES and SHIPMATES
On Watch
CAROLYN^
GOODLANDER