All photos by Misty Tosh.

Drips of sweat meandered down my grimy face as I slowly repeated the words to my new friend: time-code, close-up, wide-shot, master-shot, b-roll.

Hassan, a devout Muslim, had never heard these alien words in his entire life. He absorbed each one, and then repeated after me, snapping his fingers as each word finally clicked in his head. Snap! That’s what a close-up is. Another snap! So, that’s time-code. I could practically see his brain working overtime.

To me, these boring words made up pieces of the film lingo that I uttered every working day of my life as a TV producer. To him, they sounded exotic, like something so mystical it must be only the chosen that get to whisper them.

I met Hassan the first day I arrived in back in Sembalun, a remote mountain village perched at the base of Mt. Rinjani, the 2nd largest volcano in Indonesia. I was there to commandeer Phase 2 of my recently formed grassroots NGO, 4th World Love, whose aim is to set up community centers in magical villages around the world.

Sembalun was the first spot on the globe we’d taken hold of and the excitement was thick in the air.

I bumped into him at the CDC (Community Development Center) as he broke through the knot of villagers on hand to help me and a few volunteers prep for opening day.

Hassan helped me hang a plastic wall calendar, and quickly made himself stand out more by gallantly sweeping up the layers of grime on the floor and setting up desks for the new computer room. His English was very basic, but what caught my attention was his always-smiling face and his eagerness to jump right into any scenario to assist.

The minute I whipped out the HD camera I’d brought over from the USA, he bravely scooted over to see what the new toy was. I never touched that camera again.

The CDC immediately became exactly like a bustling film production office, with villagers stopping in at all hours. Guitar sessions, digital camera lessons, random sing-a-longs, and Spanish 101’s were slung out to anyone who showed an interest–which was the entire village, it seemed.

The slew of international volunteers taught English and computer classes from dusk ‘til dawn, while me and my bandito crew of newly created “filmmakers” tore around town on motorbikes shooting everything we could. Establishing shots, b-roll, full-on interviews—we were happily capturing tiny snippets of life in a faraway Muslim village.

The more I taught Hassan, the more independent he became. I’d be strolling toward the CDC at the crack of dawn and he’d shoot past on his way to the mosque shouting through the fumes from his moto how he’d just captured a sunrise.

I’d be reviewing his tapes, teaching him how to create a camera log, and I’d see stunning footage of farmers in the scorching fields, old toothless women cooking in outdoor kitchens, and funky insects clamoring along bright green leaves. All stuff he deemed necessary to tell the story of his village.

Within days, he became a champ of every type of shot one needs to tell a good story. You can’t just get a master of someone picking beans. Bor-ing. You must get a close up on the hand picking the bean, the expression of the farmers face in the hot sun, a wide of the entire valley, singles of the individual beans.

These shots came to him naturally after I’d explained their purpose only once. His instinct was golden, his attitude spot on. After looking at how creative his shots had become, it hit me: I’d created a super-star

The day I taught him how to use a shotgun mic was the day he became a director. With very little handholding from me, he started art directing rickety baskets and colorful handmade scarves around Harti, our “talent” who was sharing an old Sembalun semi-urban legend.

If he heard a truck roar by, he’d yell CUT and demand that Harti start over, so we could hear the all-too-important dialogue. Later that night back at the CDC, I watched in wonder as he labeled tapes, recharged batteries, shammied up his lenses and packed away his gear.

We celebrated most nights with some local moonshine and he usually busted out a bit of salsa after acoustically singing a handful of ancient Sasak songs. A renaissance man, that one was.

When it came time for me to leave Semablun, there wasn’t a frosty chance in hell I was dragging that camera home with me. What’s $1,300 bones, really? I can always get a new one. I was bear-hugging Hassan goodbye, while shoving blank tapes and advice his way on what to shoot while I was gone. He nodded his understanding.

When I got an email from him a few weeks later, he laid out his upcoming shooting schedule: his intention was to film the local red rice harvesting ceremony, as well as the yearly bamboo fighting ceremony in a nearby village. He’d also managed to score some footage of the eruption of the baby volcano inside Rinjani a few days earlier. Epic moments.

It snuck up on me after reading his plans that that’s what 4th World Love does—we’re like the middleman that makes dreams come true. However big or small they are, we just spread the love. I can’t wait to bring that kid to the USA.

Community Connection

If you are interested in volunteering with 4th World Love, please check out www.fourthworldlove.org. It’s cheap, it’s life changing, and everyone with a passion to share the laughs is invited to come along for the ride.

For more on volunteering abroad, please check out MatadorChange.com

Feature photo by ccgd. Photo above by ronnie44052

Sailboats conjure up the most romantic visions. Seeing their silhouettes at dusk makes it easy to think of chucking it all and heading off into the wild reaches of foreign seas. There will be extreme adventures, new discoveries and no one to answer to ever again.

The reality, though, is that a sailboat is a few tons worth of fiberglass and steel and you must have some skills to operate it. Thousands of questions have to be answered before you set out, but the bottom line with boating is—just make the decision.

Here are the top five pointers about boating that I’ve picked up from my own never-ending quest for the perfect lifestyle.

1. Knowing how to sail is not mandatory

My unforeseen dive into the boating world began when I stumbled upon a colorful painted picture on a piece of notebook paper. The picture, posted on a phone pole in Santa Monica, was of a small sailboat, much like a child would create in grade school. It was just the hull, painted bright red, and a simple dark blue sail. Underneath were the words “FOR SALE.”

A long lost fire was reignited with that one chance encounter and before I knew it, I’d bought a 25’ sailboat on eBay (2k) and was driving into the remotest corners of Baja, Mexico to learn how to sail it—just me, a tiny boat and a salty captain.

Photo by gupana

Essentially, I put the cart before the horse and let my overwhelming thirst for adventure get the best of me. Boat first. Lessons later. Who cares? I simply did some online research and found a five-day course that offered a US Sailing Certified program, one where the entire week was spent on the water, not in some stuffy classroom looking at pictures of tying knots.

I figured by the end of the week I’d be able to sail, with a crew, quite efficiently. Instead, by the end of Day 1, I was already single-handing the thing–tacking, jibing, running the sails, steering in and out of the harbor, and living and breathing the points of sail to the tune of sheer exhaustion.

I went into the bowels of Baja a complete novice and came back tearing up Highway 1 certain that when the time was right: here I come tropical waters.

2. Eventually, the bells and whistles do matter.

When you are looking at your first boat, it’s common to get wrapped into “What sort of vessel can I procure for nothing?” That was my MO for my first boat (which I sold due to relocation), but for my second boat, I wanted upgrades. So, after I came into a small windfall of money from a TV show I’d just worked on, I bought a 30 ft. C & C on a whim and outta nowhere, I was back in business.

The basics were already in place: refrigeration, USB radio, roller furling sail, single-handing setup, but for me, it became about vanity and comfort. I spent the summer working on the boat, installing a top-notch stereo system with kickin’ cockpit speakers and main cabin built-ins; replacing crummy dock lines and cleaning up my slimy fenders.

I had a pal recover all the interior cushions and make tropical themed curtains; I ordered new cockpit cushions; and I set up a top-of-the-line GPS system with full high-res satellite imagery, a handy fishfinder and my favorite, a g2 Vision card (imagine aerial color photos of unfamiliar marinas and a 3D perspective of maps).

In the end, all these bumps helped out when I wanted to sell the boat in the dead of winter. I actually made my money back and then some…plus it sold almost the second it went on the market.

Photo by thomaspurves

3. The water can be a real scary place, or not

I can’t actually swim. Sure, I can doggy paddle and I can crank it underwater with the best of them, but as far as over-handed swimming, I’m no champ.

One reason I bought a boat was to overcome my fear of the water. What I slowly learned over the Chicago boating season was that the more you are in the water, the more comfortable you become.

Before long, I was diving off my bow, donning snorkel gear and navigating my way around the bottom of the boat (while in the middle of Lake Michigan, mind you) just to feel her smooth lines and search for imperfections. I became friendly with all the little creatures that called my boat home (hungry birds and trillions of spiders mostly), and come summers end, I was the master of my own little water domain.

4. Expect deep envy from everyone you know

Share with anyone that you own a sailboat and the same thing will happen: wide-eyes, open mouth, insane jealousy. People think that you have to be loaded or a master captain, but not so. It’s all about gathering up a big pile of courage.

Boating turns to fun on the water once you learn how to read the wind and situate the sails based on that reading. A couple of classes with an instructor (on your own boat) are the key to becoming at ease with what you’ve just done (dropped 10k on a piece of fiberglass) and once you get the hang of sailing, it’s easy to get a party started.

Everyone wants to learn to sail and I’ve had pals who are complete novices head out into choppy waters and once I gave them a short tutorial, they practically owned the helm. When you show confidence, they gain experience and in the end, everyone feels like a badass.

Photo by Fordy

I also tapped my eco-friendly vein and bought an electric motor for my dinghy. Me and pals would load up the Cuba Libres and silently troll around the marina spying on other folks’ set-ups.

It’s almost a guarantee that anyone you take out sailing (or trolling) will end the day fueled up on stout drinks and proclaim, “I’m buying a boat!” See, sometimes you don’t have to even take the boat out of the slip to ignite the passion.

5. Money becomes liquid in the boating world

Rare is the boat that is purchased and then just ready to go. And, even if you do happen upon one, it’s beyond easy to get drop into Westmarine for a small $2 bolt and walk out two hours later with $500 worth of goodies.

The costs add up quickly when there are mechanics to pay, slip fee’s to rent, sailing lessons to take (private lessons $75/hr), gadgets to keep up with, oil changes to be maintained, gas tanks to fill up, provisions to keep stocked, solar panels to install, subscriptions to pay for and a litany of other things you want to do once you own a boat.

But that’s the beauty of it all…you don’t have to do anything. In fact, to sail, all you need is a sturdy vessel and the wind. The rest is just heart-thumping joy. The stuff that makes you feel alive and in touch with the world.

Note: If you want to get some hands on experience before spending a dime, check out the crew wanted section at Floatplan.com. You could wrangle your way into crewing in the South Pacific for some other fool who dropped his life savings on a boat—for FREE!

Community Connection

Along with Misty, several members of the Matador community sail, some just for fun and some professionally. Ross has a cool blog about sailing in San Francisco Bay with Doug, who, like Misty just bought a boat without prior sailing knowledge and went for it! Cody, a professional sailor, helped them ramp up their learning curves.

Finally, Darcey Maher is a professional sailor / boat captain, and author of the Traveler’s Notebook article How to Become a Boat Captain, which has some great additional resources for people interested in getting water time.

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Editor’s note: The author is currently “this close” to upgrading to a 32 ft. beauty (yachtworld.com) tucked into a small bay in Central America. Expect to find her there soon.

It’s so simple to buy a cheap vintage travel trailer and experience a whole new way of living that I’m stunned more folks haven’t figured it out. Is it a big secret? Too intimidating? It is considered kooky? Well, if you’ve ever dreamed of ditching it all and heading south of the border, here’s a handy guide to get you started on the road to freedom.

1. Acknowledge the Beast Within

Oh, you know what I’m talking about. That little sing-song voice inside calling out when you least expect it. It’s saying, “Are you kidding me, this is my life? Is this all there is? And, I pay how much rent for this dumpy apartment?” If you can just answer with “It’s time to change things” the next time the monster kicks in, you might find yourself calling a tin can box home. And, trust me, you will be the envy of everyone you come into contact with.

2. Research Galore

There are a bundle of websites out there with vintage trailers for sale. You can buy one already restored or you can buy a way old-school one and put your own flair into it. I opted for my own flair. Going this do-it-yourself route allowed me the opportunity to explore options I might not have run across. Things to think about: Do you really need a bathroom? How important is a fridge vs. icebox? Is a shower imperative? For me, none of these things mattered and by not giving a hoot about luxuries, I managed to save loads of money.

3. Time to Drop the Dough

Once you’ve determined what your exact specifications are, it’s time to lay down some dinero. I didn’t want to spend a wad of cash and my deciding budget was based on this simple premise: If the shit hits the fan down a back road in El Salvador and I have to abandon the trailer, what amount of dough will I not miss? I settled on $1,000 for the trailer alone and for this pittance, I managed to get this glorious little 14’ looker. 1967, baby!

4. Get Hitched

Ah, the hitch. I have an old, 2-door Ford Explorer and it was a bit hectic trying to figure out what I needed to be able to lug around 1500 lbs. Turns out that U-haul can install a sturdy trailer hitch ($350) in less time than it took me to down three frosty cold beers at my local cantina. Whatever you do, don’t go to a dealership to get the install done. They will charge much more and babble on and on with warnings, your nerves will be shot before you even pull out of the driveway.

5. Assess Your Needs

Once I had my trailer safely parked in my parents’ front yard, I tore her apart. I got rid of all the previous owners paraphernalia and took a good look at her from top to bottom. I knew some mad decorating was in order, but first I tried to imagine a/ where I would be parking this trailer and b/ what I wanted to come home to once she was parked. My thoughts leaned toward unexplored beach villages throughout Central America, so a cute awning and the ability to generate my own power were in the cards. When you’re dead alone grilling some fish on a deserted beachfront in Veracruz, the last thing you want is an annoying generator to kill the moment.

6. Go Solar

There was a very brief moment in time when I thought my dad and I could just install the solar panel I’d ordered ($400). But once I opened the box and pulled out all the cords and wires and mounts, I took a quick trip down to my local RV center to get some intel. Thankfully, those boys hook up solar panels all the time and they were able to sling the whole kit together on my roof in just a few hours ($200). I used two marine batteries I already had from my sailboat and tucked them away in a closet so they were out of sight. Make sure you put a vent wherever you hide your batteries since you don’t your home to burst into flames while you’re out exploring. In the end, I made sure I was covered for all possible camping scenarios: propane gas, 110 volt power, and solar.

7. Decorate on a Dime

My needs were simple. I wanted a funky global feel with lots of vibrant colors, soft candles, and eye-catching fabrics. I also needed some 800-count bed linen. After painting the interior walls (from station wagon brown to soft eggshell), I did a massive Ikea shop for kitchen supplies, storage containers and rugs. I also recovered the cushions with some old curtains and safety pins. I ended up with a cozy vibe and not a soul would know that I barely spent $100 decorating.

8. Where Ya Wanna Go?

The best place in the world to RV has got to be Bahia Concepcion, a remote getaway on the Sea of Cortez side of Baja. The minute you cross the Mexican border, it feels like you have gone rogue. You can park directly on the sandy beach for a few bucks a night and kayak, swim, fish and drink cervezas to your hearts delight. And, the good thing is that most folks down in Baja are like-minded and trying just as hard as you to get off-grid. Make sure to get Mexican insurance for both your vehicle and your trailer though (1 year $300), since insurance generated in the USA does not apply once you cross the border.

9. Hit the Road

Hauling around a 1500 lb mini-beast is way more doable than it sounds. In fact, these little tin cans are so light, it’s easy to forget they are attached to the back of your vehicle. I’d be hauling down the highway at midnight, texting away and guzzling a Red Bull when I’d glance in my rear view and freak out thinking a blue and white squad car was on my tail. Then I’d realize it was just my little trailer keeping time with me. Driving in a straight line is cake. Hairpin curves are too. Backing up is a different story. But, it’s like a boat. You move the wheel one way and the trailer goes the opposite way. As soon as you make that connection, you could almost pop wheelies with your baby and not think twice about it.

10. Set Up Camp

Your first night camping out will be pretty wild. Once you unload the trailer off your vehicle, all you have to do is put some support under the wheels (rocks will do) and sling up your awning. The sun glazing over your solar panel throughout your trip will have loaded up your batteries to capacity and you’ll be able to power up pretty much anything you might need. Things like microwaves, AC’s, and blenders require way too much amperage for a small solar panel, but that’s what hand-cranked blenders and swamp coolers are for! Time to crack a cold one, gaze at the stars and make some new friends.

Helpful Websites:

The best vintage trailers can be found at Tin Can Tourists.

Community Connection