Voyage of the SV Kamaya

Goodbye Kamaya

2011-10-06T15:56:00.000-07:00

I stepped off my boat for the very last time
The home I had lived in for three years
A life where I had seen many things
That I might never see again

I watched dolphins leap from the bow
On nights when the moon disappeared
They left a trail of glittering light
Like a mirror of the stars

I swam beside a humpback whale
As she drifted through the ocean
She lifted her tail, curved her back
Plunged deep into the sea

I looked down a volcano’s mouth
At the deadly lava within
A piece of pumas spewed up high
Flying past my head

I turned and faced my sailboat
I thought of the places I’d been
Friends I'd made and islands I'd seen
Sad to watch it end

Consumption

2011-09-27T12:57:00.000-07:00

One of the benefits of living on a boat is that you can’t go crazy shopping. But now that I’m living on American soil in a house, I feel like all the stores and billboards are screaming at me to BUY BUY BUY. Bikes, computers, clothes, beds, cellphones … all these things that we didn’t need on a boat seem essential on land.

As I walk into a store, I want to lasso myself back. You don’t want more stuff! Remember the boxes you packed away for three years and didn’t miss? Remember Maria’s family in Vanuatu who lived in a 10x10 foot room and seemed so content with what little they owned.

How can I apply the lessons that I learned on a boat to living on land. How can I refrain from accumulating more stuff? How can I remember to conserve water, like we did instinctively on the boat? It’s so easy to let the faucet run, use the dishwasher plus it’s so wonderful to take luxurious baths.

The other day, Maya and I were eating a burrito and drinking ice water at Taco del Mar. We both didn’t finish the ice and when we got up to bus our table, Maya looked at me and said, “I don’t want to throw the ice away.” I couldn’t bare to either.

Now that we’re back on land and in a house with a refrigerator and an ice maker, we don’t have to treasure ice. Nor do we have to turn the water faucet off immediately, take two minute showers, switch the lights off, close doors, and refrain from buying heaps of stuff. All this isn’t as important as it is on a boat.

We’ve learned to live with less on a boat, and it sure is nice to live with more, but imagine how much energy and water we would save if we continued our practice of turning off lights, using minimal water, acquiring minimal things like we do on a boat? Imagine how much better our world would be if we all lived as if we were on a boat.

Reentry to land life

2011-09-13T12:38:00.000-07:00

Reentry from living on the ocean to living on land where days include driving cars, talking and texting on the cell phone, unpacking boxes, mowing the lawn, going to school, making lunches, taking daily showers, seeing old friends, looking for a job, and listening to Congress bicker on NPR. Yes, I’m back in the USA. After slipping away for three years, reentry to terra firma is a huge adjustment; some say it may take us years to get used to normal American life.

To complicate our adjustment - Tim and Kai are still in the land of kangaroos and koalas, taking care of Kamaya who is for sale. Let us know if you or someone you know wants to follow the dream. Kamaya is a fantastic boat and sailing with the family is a remarkable experience.

After being together as a family pretty much 24/7, we’re now dissected. It feels like I’ve lost my left arm and leg and am hobbling, like a drunken sailor. To further complicate our land life – Maya and I are living in two places – Hood River where our home is and Portland, where Maya just started middle school.

The beginning of our end to boat life began Sunday, August 20th, when Maya and I retraced our steps backwards. As they say, nothing goes to weather better than a Boeing 777. What took us three years to sail, took us about 22 hours on an airplane. Even better, because of the international dateline, we left on Sunday and arrived in San Francisco on Sunday. Australia is so far away that we even travelled from winter to summer.

Our route home started in Brisbane, Australia, where we left Tim, Kai, Kamaya and Evi, our sailing grandmother. Maya and I flew to Auckland, New Zealand then across the Pacific to Los Angeles before overnighting in San Francisco for Oma’s banana bread and good lovin. Monday afternoon, we boarded another airplane to Portland just in time for Maya’s two-day orientation at Catlin Gabel.

On Thursday night we beelined it to the Gorge and stayed in the “pickers cabin” on Sue and Sam’s farm, with their pigs, horses, dogs, chickens and home grown tomatoes. Farm life feels like the exact opposite of boat life in the sense that there’s the connection to the land and the inability to haul up the anchor and move to a different neighborhood.

“Our life must feel boring to you after all the places you’ve been,” farmer Sam asked one morning as we sat in his patio looking at the fire on Mt. Hood.

“It’s not boring, I just feel like I’ve been in a time warp,” I told him. “Not much has changed, except all the kids have gotten much taller, much taller than me.” For those who don't know me - I'm 5 foot and a half (inch).

Saturday, we moved back into our Hood River home, which was rented while we were gone. Poppa Nate, Oma, Sue and Sam, and Bill, helped empty our storage unit filled with a dining room table, dressers, old windsurfer, and more than 20 cardboard boxes. Did I miss any of it? Only three things: my road bike, dishwasher and bathtub. But all the other stuff, didn't really matter. How did we manage to accumulate all this stuff? How easy it was to live without it.

I’ve had some time to adjust to land life and answer questions from friends and strangers who can't believe that we were gone for so long. We had a remarkable time living our dream and it’s sad to give up life on Kamaya, with the whales, wahoos and dolphins and the fantastic people we met along the way.

So why stop? Besides the fact that it’s time to get serious, get a job, go to school and embrace what land has to offer. When we left San Francisco, three years ago, Tim and I wanted our kids to become boat kids, independent, curious, strong, and self reliant. We accomplished our goal. We learned a ton about ourselves and each other and we sailed thousands of miles across the Pacific Ocean.

“Maya, has such a keen sense of her place in the world,” Sam commented as he listened to Maya explain to her friend Alexa where we sailed. They were in the car together and she didn’t have a map, so she used her hand to show where we’ve been. New Zealand and Australia were near her left thumb and Mexico and California were on her pinkie. The Galapagos, French Polynesia, Tonga and Fiji were somewhere in the middle of her hand.

It’s been our parental policy to stop doing whatever we’re doing with the kids wanting more. We didn’t want to be like some of the cruising families we met whose kids, especially the teenagers, wanted to go back home. Maya, who has a tinge of a Kiwi/New Zealand accent, wants to fly back to Australia and be back on the boat. She thrived on the ocean and loved the sea life and the people we encountered along the way. We’re leaving with her wanting more. Kai, well – he’s still on the boat, so he hasn’t left yet.

It’s hard to explain to people who don’t know anything about sailing what we’ve been doing for the past three years. One mother at Maya’s school looked at me and said, “How leisurely!” I smiled back. Leisurely, I think not. It feels much more leisurely living here in Oregon where we drive to the grocery store, take long showers, and can buy or get whatever we need. We learned so much from the boat, but I’ll leave that for another post.

In the land of Koalas and Kangaroos

2011-08-27T07:45:00.000-07:00

We made it to the land of koalas and kangaroos. Though we didn't see these adorable creatures in the wild, I wanted to share some photos we took at our venture to Lone Pine Koala Sanctuary in Brisbane.

Say hello to this mom and her joey who is gathered together with her mob. When the joey is born, he's tiny, pink and hairless and only about one inch long. Somehow the babies manage to crawl into their momma's pouch and stay there for as long as fourteen months.

Kangaroos and koalas are marsupials; they have pouches for their babies to hang in. The kangaroos is a macropod, and you can see why they're in the big feet family. We watched them run, by hopping on their hind legs and steering with their tails.

They look a little like a deer, but they're super sociable like dogs and like to be petted and fed.

Maya is petting one of the red kangaroos, the largest marsupial in the world.

We also saw the cute koalas, who sleep 75 percent of their day, just like sloths. The word "koala" is aboriginal for "no drink" and that's because they get their water from eucalyptus trees, which contain 50 percent water.

Koalas are endangered here in Australia and it's predicted that in the next 20 to 30 years, they may only survive in the protected parks. Sadly, about 4000 koalas are killed each year from cars, dogs and other predators.

A special treat was cuddling with the koala who seemed perfectly happy to wrap his arms around our neck.

Hot Oil Treatment

2011-08-16T19:35:00.000-07:00

August 4th. We really should have been sailing to Australia, as we had a perfect weather window. But we wanted to spend some time exploring New Caledonia and I didn't want to be at sea on my birthday because I thought it was bad luck. The last time we were at sea on my birthday was in 1995 when Ruth and I sailed our old boat, Capella, to Cartagena, Columbia and our mast fell down due to rigging failure. We managed to limp into Cartagena without a mast. The boat was a mess, covered in hydraulic oil. Well, somehow fate had oil wrapped as a birthday present this year as well.

For my birthday we were in a small island, Ilot Maitre, just a few miles from Noumea, New Caledonia. The wind was strong ideal for a morning kiteboarding session. When I launched my kite at 8 in the morning, there were only two of us, by the afternoon more than 30 kiters cruised on the water. Well most of these French kiters weren't early risers. But they missed out, because I had the opportunity of kiting with a pair of dugongs. Dugongs are sea cows and look like a cross between ... a cow and a seal.

I tried to go slowly and quietly to get near them, but they were a bit shy and scared of my board. I kited near them for 5-10 minutes in shallow water...probably waist deep. They eventually swam off the edge of the reef into deeper water where I lost sight of them. Just before they dove into the deep the bigger one raised his head out of the water with his big long nose and gave me a long hard stare...was he curious, angry or did I interrupt a romantic moment? Maybe he was trying to warn me about the cruel fate in my near future.

The following day, we prepared to leave. We had just a few errands: buy French baguettes, cheese, TimTams (Kai's favorite cookies) and other groceries, check out of the country, and change the oil. Well as usual chores always take longer than you expect. By the time we arrived at the Capitaneria for check out it was 11:15am. The secretary said he was closed from 11am - 3pm for lunch (those French know how to live). But because we wanted to leave, she would do us a favor and see if the Port Captain would interrupt his lunch including his second bottle of wine and give us the formal stamp. The aged Captain shared a few sailing stories, gave us our clearance and returned to open his 3rd bottle.

So finally we returned to Kamaya for the last chore of changing the oil. I've always struggled at changing the oil without making a mess. The problem on a boat is, unlike a car, you can't just open the plug at the bottom and let it drain, because it will all end up in the bilge. So you pump it out the dipstick. I'm usually able to do this without too much mess, but then the oil filter always seems to drip a bit before I get it off. I've experimented with several variations and I thought I'd found the best one. This one involved a little help from Ruthy, which was the fatal flaw. She hadn't given me a birthday present yet and perhaps her mind was thinking about hot oil treatments and massages. Anyway, while I'm leaning into the engine compartment holding the oil pan and guiding the pump hose, she's carefully pumping the oil into a nearly full gallon container. Somewhow, well she's not really sure what happened, but suddenly the container leaped out and hot oil flew right onto my head. My screams of terror awoke the kids who snapped a few photos, but I don't think they really show my big mess and horror. As Maya said, "This might be grounds for divorce."

Well, it's probably very good for my dry skin, but I definitely won't be doing this again in a hurry. Maybe next year I'll get a massage treatment to go along with the hot oil for my birthday. Ruth promised to stay away from the engine, and now with a little distance, we can all laugh at my birthday present. So glad it wasn't as bad as my birthday in 1995 when we lost the mast. Cheers, Tim, the Tin Man with an oil overdose.

Swimming with Whales

2011-07-31T01:05:00.000-07:00

“Look, a whale!” my mother said.

I rushed to the cockpit and looked to where she had pointed. We were under sail going into a bay in Lifou, New Caledonia. Sure enough, there was a whale relaxing not far from us. She was floating on her belly, with her small dorsal fin poking out of the water.

Tim suggested jumping in the water with her, so a few minutes later he and I had our wetsuits on, masks on face and fins on feet. I jumped into the water and my dad followed. We let go of the ladder and swam towards the giant mammal.

I had seen whales before, but never gotten very close. I had only been in the water with one once. That was in Panama, and by the time we got in the male humpback had dove under the dinghy and I only saw his flipper and tail, the rest blended in. Other than that, I had only seen whales from the surface. From that point of view you can almost never see the whole body. Now, as we neared this animal, I could begin to make the shape out.

My first impression was that she was small. I suppose 25 – 30 feet isn’t little, but she was chubby too. I concluded she must be pregnant. Her stomach was bulging and there was no other explanation.

I suppose I’m painting an ugly picture, but the fact is she looked totally natural. She was an exotic animal, calm and elegant. She swam slowly towards the bottom of the sea. She then leveled out and glided horizontally through the water. We may have scared her slightly, because she swam away from us. But slowly, as though we weren’t a threat. It seemed to me that the whale merely wanted a little privacy, and that was why she left.

Whales are fantastic creatures and Tim and I were very lucky to have seen one so close.

By Maya

Don’t be afraid to comment!

Reflections

2011-07-30T14:37:00.000-07:00

Monday, July 26.

The novelty of the baguettes, brie and fine French wine is wearing off quickly. Although we’ve been in Lifou for less than 48 hours, I’m in culture shock. Life here is dramatically different from what we saw in Tanna, Vanuatu.

On our walk today into the village called “We”, we were approached by a group of local drunk men with bottles of beer in hand, cigarettes in their mouths. “How do you like our island?” one drunk man asks Kai, who doesn’t really know how to respond. Though harmless, I think that drinking Kava, like the men do in Vanuatu would be better. At least there wouldn’t be the empty bottles and cans that are negligently left on the street.

I remember laughing with Tim, when in Vanuatu, one man passed us on the beach walking barefoot and said proudly, “I’m walking to the village to drink some Kava.” It sounded so innocent and intimate, like he was a 10 year old announcing that he was going to go play with his friends. Kava might numb his body, but alcohol somehow seems worse. My critical Western eye and UC Berkeley liberal education is seething forth. I’m not trying to be Alexis de Tocqueville, but just wanted to share some impressions and I admit we only saw one small area in Vanuatu and we’ve only been in one small area in New Caledonia.

Talking about garbage – here, there seems to be a lack of pride of place that we saw in Vanuatu. There’s garbage and plastic all over the place, even sharp broken glass bottles at the exquisite white sand beach shown below.

On our walk, we passed five gendarmes – that’s French for police – and their white skin contrasted with the local islanders of Melanesian descent. I wonder about the affects of being a French colony. Does it make you a dependent child, unable to dress yourself and prepare your own meals? Does it take away your power and turn you into a spoiled brat?

Laurens, a French teacher living here, told us that most of the locals don’t work as there’s no work for them and they get money from their relatives as well as the French government. In contrast, in Vanuatu, it seemed like most of the Ni-Vans (that’s what they call themselves) were busy working in their fields, harvesting cassava, bananas and taro.

Stopping to savor sweet coconut.

And back at home, weaving mats and baskets.

Or shooting bow and arrows.

Another huge contrast is that everyone walks in Tanna or paddles his outrigger canoe.

We only saw three cars when we were there; here in Lifou, most people drive their Isuzu Troupers and Range Rovers back and forth from the grocery store, filled with expensive imported food. The roads are paved and there are fancy sidewalks compared to the bumpy dirt roads in Tanna. There are even street lights equipped to dim and brighten depending on when a car passes.

“When France has taken all the nickel it needs, then they will leave,” predicts Michel, our French neighbor in the marina. Mind you, this marina is the cleanest we’ve ever been in. It’s so clean that we ran our watermaker here. Can you see the clear water here in the photo? There's a school of Sergeant Majors nibbling under Kamaya and supposedly one of the guards roams the docks busting any boats for flushing their heads (that's what we call toilets).

Michelle warns us against going to the island of Ouvea where in 1988 there was a massacre between the local Kanak islanders and the French police. “They’re very rascist there.” Michelle surmises that if the people get independence, then they would have their big cars and no money to pay for fuel.

Maybe he is right. Indeed the relationship between France and New Caledonia is complicated. Vanuatu (you might know it as New Hebrides) achieved independence from both France and Britain in 1980 – both countries governed at the same time. Though considerably poorer, the Ni-Vans seem so much more content than the people we met today on our walk. In fact, in 2006, the Ni-Vans were voted the happiest people on earth. I wonder, whether it has anything to do with their independence and simpler lives, one without the material desires of cars, delicious cheese and fresh baguettes.

There She Blows

2011-07-28T01:25:00.000-07:00

Our magna carta for our adventure to Mt. Yasur, known as the world’s most accessible active volcano: 1. Never turn your back on the volcano; 2. Don’t go too close to the edge; 3. If the flying neon orange lava looks like it’s coming our way – RUN.

We left Port Resolution around four o’clock with a truck load of five Kiwis (not the birds but the people), and an Englishman also eager to see the volcano. There were twelve of us total, including the driver and his friend, who I think was supposed to be our guide, but didn’t say much.

We packed into the 4- wheel drive Toyota pick-up. Maya, Kai, Tim and I sat in the back of the truck, holding on at every bump in the road and ducking to escape various thick branches. We passed huge Banyon trees and a number of villages, with their homes made mostly from bamboo, woven palm fronds and other organic material.

Every once in a while we stopped to let a cow pass or another rare car and we slowed down and honked at the little piglets squealing as their short legs ambled the dirt road. I could only imagine how tough the route would be during the torrential rainy season.

After about 45 minutes, we reached the park entrance.

Admission wasn’t cheap, about $100 US dollars or $10,500 vats (Vanuatu’s currency) for four of us to experience the furious volcano. Apparently, the park fees go to the local village that has to relocate every year when Mt. Yasur’s eruptions destroy their home.

From the entrance, we continued for about 15 minutes up the steep volcano, so steep in parts that I feared we’d topple over. We could hear the loud roar of the volcano shaking the ground and the air thickened. We parked in the black dirt on the edge of the volcano and walked the last bit up to the crater.

“Stay to the right,” advised our local guide, Jimmy. There were people already on the edge watching Mother Nature hoot and holler.

We turned our backs just for a photo op.

Of course, there’s no fence to keep spectators from falling into the crater. “Not too close,” I yell to Maya, who in her tween stage rolls her eyes at me. “Oh come on Mom, it’ll be ok.”

It wasn’t ok for two tourists and their guide who, according to the Moon Guide, were fatally struck by a projectile that hurled them 20 feet into the air. “Just keep your eye on the lava and don’t turn your back to the volcano,” I warned.

When the sun set, and the sky became dark black, the show was even more spectacular. We marveled at how high the lava pitched into the air. One part of the crater billowed forth thick ash clouds into the air and moments later the other side would throw glowing red and orange rocks hundreds of feet into the air. Fortunately, the wind was blowing from the southeast, away from where we were standing. Wow! Look at that explosion!!

The boisterous sound of the eruptions made me shutter, often grabbing Maya or Kai just to make sure the earth didn’t split open and gobble us up. Apparently, activity is a positive sign and when the volcano is silent, the neighbors are concerned that the volcano is bottling up its fury and will explode dramatically. Tonight, was deemed a Level Two, moderate to high activity, but not too dangerous. It was a fantastic show, one which made me more appreciative of cold solid ground.

A few days later, the wind direction changed and we weren’t so fortunate. On Thursday night, the wind blew from the west and in our anchorage in Port Resolution, thick black ash rained all over our boat. The west wind was predicted to continue for a few more days, so we had a choice of enduring the black ash or sailing upwind to New Caledonia. We decided to raise our anchor and sail away from the magical island of Tanna. I wish we could have stayed longer.

One last photo of the Almighty One

So Long Fiji - Vinaka!

2011-07-11T12:38:00.000-07:00

There comes a time when we need to haul up our anchor and sail west. Well our time has come and my heart sighs, but I smile loudly, thinking about the incredible times we've had in Fiji and the incredible people we've met along the way.

We swam amongst colorful coral and photogenic fish. Every time I don my mask and look at the life under our keel, I'm constantly amazed and intrigued. The patterns of the fish are so intricate and artistic, like this juvenile Semicircle Angelfish.

Take a look at this exquisite Striped Surgeonfish. His blue and gold stripes fit in perfectly with the Cal Bears cheerleaders.

But when I see the nasty Crown-of-Thorns starfish that's killing the coral, I want to cry. They're not so pretty. Look at how evil they look with their spikes. Our friend Frank took this photo one day when we were snorkelling - I hope the starfish doesn't ruin the home of the little clownfish that's precariously close.

The Crown-of-Thorns used to not be as prolific because the Giant Triton Snail and other natural predators kept them under control. However, man has messed with the fragile ecosystem by collecting the Giant Snail to sell in souvenir shops, thus allowing the Crown-of-Thorns to demolish reefs. Some people we’ve met have decided to flip the large starfish over so they can be food for the fish. We've talked about forming a flip the starfish club - not a bad idea and could help protect the coral reef.

Another really interesting creature under the water is the Giant clam that we saw in Mokongi. The island used to be a Leper Colony, but fortunately it's transformed into a happier place where they raise giant clams and protect green turtles. The baby turtles had already hatched by the time we visited to the island, but we did see the clams in operation. Here’s a picture of one massive bi-valve that 6-foot tall Tim swam next to. What colorful lips! Did you know these clams are also hermaphrodites?

Another treat during our journey in Fiji has been the kindness of the people, who have been eager to help, show us their island, share some fruit or just say, “Bula.”

One of the benefits of voyaging by boat is it allows us the opportunity to reciprocate hospitality. In Namata Bay, Oso Blanco invited the Fijian children living on the small island to their boat to celebrate their son, Bear's, birthday. Most of the Fijian kids had never been on board a boat before and were so eager to come and play. It was a fantastic day with lots of games. They tossed water balloons,

played on the kayaks and jumped off the second floor of Oso. I love this picture that Annie took of the two girls jumping from the boat. It's a scary leap!

The tradition of sevusevu taught us about consideration and respect. Every time we anchored in a village, we sought out the chief, introduced ourselves, gave him a bundle of kava (the coveted narcotic made from pepper root) and asked permission to be on the island. Some debate the benefit of giving kava, but asking for permission to use an anchorage now seems like the right thing to do. I wish we had done it in many of the other countries that we have called home.

Fiji also gave us the opportunity to visit India without having to travel there. Maya and I loved looking at the exquisite Indian clothes and we even purchased a Sari for her to wear back in Oregon.

Along with the colorful clothes comes flavorful curries and rotis. Thanks to Mara, my sister-in-law, who visited us last week, I’ve learned how to cook with mustard seed and masala. This morning I bought more exquisite spices at the market. Look at this beautiful red chili, tumeric and curry. I wish it were possible to photograph their powerful smells.

So long Fiji …. Vinaka (that means, “Thank You”)! We’ve had a wonderful time!

The Berko-week

2011-07-09T22:16:00.000-07:00

Hi! This is Ziva and Maya, the Berkowitz- Kimmels are back again on Kamaya for a breath-taking adventure once more. We don’t believe we have to start at the very beginning, even though Maria says so (Sound of Music). We hope you enjoy our post!

One of the funnest things we did this week was build sand castles and hermit crab habitats. Ziva and I made this ultra cool country out of sand and coral. There were coral forests and farms made of sand, small villages and market places made of clam shells or rocks. There were huge mountains and great rivers. We also built a gigantic wall around the whole place with a moat (or sandmine as we call it) outside.

My turn, sorry about that LONG paragraph. That was Maya, as most of you can tell. Anyway, another cool thing that we did was sail with dolphins. We are still in the long process of knowing what type they are. They were HUGE! But, in their lovely dolphin like way, they moved so gracefully and jumped so high, you hardly noticed. I loved that part, especially when I was at the bow and one jumped right next to me. Let me rewind a bit. Dolphins like to ride the waves that the bow creates. The faster you go, the more waves you make, the more they enjoy it.

Gosh Ziva! You call mine long? (How crazy is that?) Now let me continue and explain about the hermit crab habitats that SOMEONE rudely interrupted. It all started on this one island when Ziva and I were building another country, a bit like the one before but without walls. So anyhow, the boys built a castle with steep passageways and lots of castles/mountains. Then they put hermit crabs in it and we saw that the crabs couldn’t get out. We liked the idea, but their habitat was too shallow and the crabs were crawling out. So we made our own but it was too deep and kept caving in. I positively hate to admit it, but theirs was better. So we helped them, and made lots of other hermit crab homes along the way.

Another hermit crab habitat.

You just keep goin’ on ‘n’ on. One thing you did forget to mention what the hermit crabs look like. That is kind of important . I will tell them. Hermit crabs are like little lobsters-ish, in snail shells of all shapes and colors. So, another thing that I found interesting was the snorkeling. I’ll admit, Maya was a great guide, explaining lots of coral and tons of fish. She also taught me how to dive, and in turn, I taught my mom. When I say dive I don’t mean scuba diving. I mean snorkel diving. You curl your body and shoot down, sticking your feet straight up. Every few feet you go down, plug your nose and blow out. Then when you rise to breathe, you blow out of the snorkel (mouth piece). We saw parrot fish pooping sand, needle fish sewing and damselfish flirting with each other. How wrong is that???

These paragraphs keep getting bigger! (Thanks to Ziva.) I still don’t think I should have to write about the rugby game, after all, you watched it with the boring parents. {Then let me write!} That’s okay, I will. But the parents made us write about it so, oh well. Anyway, the adults at fault forced us to come ashore to watch a rugby game that they claimed would be a “cultural” experience. Yeah right. But I could see that there was no point in arguing, they would make us do it anyhow. So we went ashore and I could quickly see it would be dull. So could Noah. Can you believe we have anything in common? So we went to the seaside and Noah swam, but I just hung out. Soon we met some local kids and Noah and I played soccer with them. The whole thing turned out not to be as bad as I thought, but I’m glad I didn’t have to watch the game. Also my uncle Ethan (Berkowitz as we call him) went halyard swinging and the buckle was too small for his belly. (If you don't know much about halyard swinging then just research earlier posts.)

I have the honor of closing this lovely entry, but first, I have one last word. I disagree with Maya. It was not dull. The villagers were kind to allow us to visit them, and watch their rugby game. Lets close this up!
Can’t wait to hear some comments!

Some parting shots from our week ...

Here's Noah snorkelling. He liked looking at the fish, but he liked jumping off Kamaya with Kai even better.

Here's our Fourth of July cake that we decorated to look like the American flag. Too bad you weren't with us to eat it!

Give me a Stick!

2011-06-27T11:34:00.001-07:00

Namena Island, home to nesting Red-footed Boobies

I handed a male red-footed booby perched on the tree, a small stick. You would have thought he won the lottery. He grabbed the stick with his beak.

"Look at me, look at me," he squawked proudly. It was as if he were flexing his muscles like men do at the gym, hoping to attract someone with his bulging biceps.

Instead of flexing his muscles, the booby did a lap around the bay parading the stick.

He then returned to his perch. His female friend seemed pleased. He continued courting and started his sky-pointing dance -- not as elaborate as his larger cousin, the blue footed booby who we saw nesting on the ground in Mexico and Ecuador -- but he fluffed his wings and pointed his tail into the air.

The female accepted the stick and together they placed it under her body. So far, she had only two sticks, not nearly enough for a nest, but a start.

Here, in the small island of Namena, about 20 miles south of SavuSavu, red-footed boobies congregate and nest in the trees. They are the only booby birds that nest in trees. Their special claws on their webbed feet allow them to grasp the branches without toppling over.

We saw some fluffy white chicks sitting alone in the nests, waiting for their parents to bring them breakfast. It took them 45 days to hatch and then they hang out in the tree for another 130 days.

Meanwhile both their parents are very busy, flying around, looking for fish. It's an arduous task, not because they have difficulty spotting fish with their bulging eyes, but it's hard for them to catch the fish and bring it back to the nest without getting bullied by a lurking frigate bird. The frigates can't swim so they rely on other birds to catch fish and then they steal the food. We saw this happen a number of times.

Also in Namena, we went for a night snorkel with Oso Blanco. Bear spotted a sleeping green turtle who we woke up with our underwater lights and followed him as he sleepily moved around the reef and surfaced for a breath of air. I grabbed my buddy, Jo's hand, when I looked up and saw a white-tipped shark patrolling the area. I know they're not interested in us, but still they do look fierce in the dark of the night. The reef fish on the other hand looked like deer stunned by headlights as they floated above the coral.

A Fijian Feast

2011-06-25T10:18:00.000-07:00

When we were in Viani Bay we not only celebrated Kai's 10th birthday, but also were invited ashore to experience a traditional Fijian feast called a "lovo," where food is cooked in a hand-made underground earth oven.

Together with his sous-chefs, a well seasoned man named Harry dug a hole in the ground not too deep, but big enough for a fire.

The kitchen crew (his brother's, neighbors and cousins) lit the fire and then built a platform on top of it using bamboo sticks and leaves. From here they piled the food - first the starch, entire kasavas and breadfruit, then the vegetable, my favorite, rourou, which is green taro leaves mixed with onions and fresh coconut milk and wrapped in aluminum foil.

The freshly caught chicken was adorned in banana leaves that the women had braided as if it were a table decoration.

And they also wrapped fish in aluminum foil and placed that on the pile. They covered all the food with banana leaves, sticks and dirt, more dirt, and finally a tarp to trap the heat.

From afar it looked like a mound of smoking dirt. Harry handed me a huge coconut with a straw made from the stem of a tropical plant. Who needs a plastic straw if you can use a plant ... and Who needs a Wolf oven, when you can cook from the earth? I thought to myself. Harry seemed to read my mind and commented, "Everything is from this island," he told me. "You'll see, all the flavors stay with the food when its cooked in the earth."

"I used to eat this way every night," said Jack, our dive/snorkel guide who had been with us all week showing us the secret places on Rainbow Reef, so called for the magnificent colors of the coral.

Three hours later, Harry and crew uncovered the food with their bare hands, careful not to burn their fingers, and our feast began.

Well not yet, first the women adorned us "yachties" with leis made from leaves and flowers. The dinner was a fundraiser for their school. We each paid about $20 Fijian per family, but many of us were more generous, knowing that the school could use the help. They ultimately raised about 500 Fiji Dollars ($300 US) which can go a long way here.

The women created platters by braiding palm fronds. My mouth watered as they carefully placed various food on each of the platters. In addition to everything that was cooked in the lovo, they added freshwater prawns, and a fruit salad of locally grown papaya, bananas and pinneaple. Every family or boat had a platter to share.

At first Kai was reluctant and nudged me, "let's go back and have Cluster Crisp Sanitarium (his favorite cereal) for dinner." But then he and Maya sampled the food.

"This is delicious," said Maya who wanted more of the tasty moist chicken and rourou.

"Is it better than Cluster Crisp?" I asked Kai.

"Well, not better, but I'll have more chicken too," he grinned.

After dinner, the men and a few women gathered on the hand-woven pandanus mats to drink their kava, a mud-like lip numbing drink made from the crushed root of a pepper plant. I watched Eric, Captain of the 64-foot Nordhaven Oso Blanco, gulp a bowl down and clap traditionally three times when finished.

Eric has saddled up to the kava bar a number of times and can decipher good kava from bad kava. When asked about the quality of this kava, he told me it had a lot of protein. "Protein, how do you know it has a lot of protein?" I asked, confused.

"You know bugs," he told me. hmmmm...

I'm learning to dive!

2011-06-19T16:07:00.001-07:00

When we got to Fiji, I borrowed Bear's (on Oso Blanco) gear and tried scuba diving. My first dive was really cool because I could get really close to the fish and not have to zoom back to the surface and get a breath of air.

Then, three days ago as Kai said, I won the lottery because Frank and Karen on a really cool catamaran named Tahina, gave me my own BCD (or just BC for short). The letters 'BCD' stand for Buoyancy Compensator Device, a vest that you can add or remove air within it to make you float or sink.

I released air in my BC, which let me descend. I love looking up at the surface, it's awesome to be so far down in a foreign world. The colours are fantastic, especially that of the soft coral.

But even more amazing are the fish, some bright yellow, others orange, and sometimes brilliant blue. I enjoy watching the small blue fish move about in schools, or drift together over the reef. I like their turquoise colour and the way they move together as one larger fish.

The anemone is poisonous to all fish except the clown fish, which many of you know as Nemo. This striped fish is protected by the anemone and can lay its eggs in the anemone without having to worry about bigger fish eating the eggs.

And then, there's the Christmas Tree worms. Their colours range from purple to yellow, and sometimes they have a mix of harmonious colours. If you wiggle your finger at them, they suck in.

Diving has been a fun and fantastic adventure for me and I can't wait to do it again.

Happy Birthday Kai!

2011-06-11T01:57:00.000-07:00

Kai celebrated his double digit birthday here in Viani Bay, where we need to watch out for falling coconuts.

Viani is in Vanua Levu, Northern Fiji just inside of the famous Rainbow Reef. You can see from the exquisite colors how the reef got its name.

Six boat kids, three of the Stray Kitties and Bear, yes that's his name plus his boat is called Oso Blanco, came over to eat cake and play in the bay.

For games, Tim and I had to get creative since we are in a tiny island without a lot of the usual party things that you happen to have on land. For one game, the kids divided into two teams - boys against girls, perfect since there were three girls and three boys. The task: to paddle or kayak over to the other boats in the anchorage, gather a story, joke or poem, remember it and share it with the other kids.

Another water task: two in the team had to balance on a surf board while the other team mate paddled the board around Kamaya.

The evening ended with two perfect surprises. The first, from Oso Blanco - ice cream to go with the homemade chocolate and carrot cake. We're not running our freezer and Kai, lover of ice cream, chocolate and most sweets, was ecstatic to have ice cream. And the second surprise, from Stray Kitty, multiple episodes of Gilligan's Island, also Kai's favorite. So for the evening, after eating cake and ice cream, Kai and his friends gathered in our cabin and watched Gilligan's Island. Sounds like a perfect day!

Parting shot: Now that Kai is ten, he has developed a tough spicy palate and the little chilis growing in the wild aren't too spicy for him. Even Wayne, a Fijian boy we met in Fawn Harbor, seemed impressed.

Minerva Reef...cont.

2011-06-02T23:10:00.000-07:00

Approaching South Minerva Reef is a bit daunting. You know it's there because it's on the charts, but 10 miles away there is no visible sign of it. Five miles away ... still no sign. Two miles ... are the charts wrong? Finally when we're almost on top of it, we see and hear surf crashing on the reef.

I can understand why there used to be so many shipwrecks in reefs like this, pre GPS. The atoll has almost no land above sea level. It's shaped like a figure 8, with a ring of reef only a few inches below sea level at low tide and a few feet above at high tide. Inside the rings are deep water...up to 100 feet deep, with lots of coral heads, but also plenty of sandy patches for anchoring. The northern lobe of the 8 has a deep water pass allowing sailboats inside to anchor. It's about one mile in diameter and you sit there surrounded by water, waves break on the near side, but the seas are flat inside, except for a bit of rolling at high tide, when some of the swell finds it's way over the reef. It's an eerie feeling being surrounded by ocean, but sitting still, as if you're in a lake. Obviously it's uninhabited, since there's no dry land to build on. Even North Minerva, 20 miles away, is uninhabited. It's an atoll as well, but it does have some land and beach. An American company tried to build a hotel there, but it was never completed. All that's left, ironically, is the remnants of a swimming pool.

Some go stir crazy in a place like this, you can't really get off the boat or walk ashore, since there is no shore. Every activity off the boat is water oriented. Kiteboarding, kayaking, snorkeling.

Here Kai is kayaking bringing Evi to our boat for an afternoon of bridge.

I went for several walks on the reef, after kayaking there, but it was always in ankle deep water or deeper. I even went once at night. Cyril (a French crew off our friend Evi's boat, Wonderland) and I went lobster hunting. We'd been hearing about the lobsters at Minerva from other boats, but we weren't sure of the best methods. When snorkeling in the daytime I looked under all the little caves and holes I could find, but never saw any sign of a lobster. Some advise searching for lobsters at night and walking the shallow reefs and lagoons; others say you can only find lobsters when there's a full moon, a small swell.

Well on this night, we had no moon and a large swell, we didn't even chant any voodoo spells, but we did get out and have a look. We went near low tide, and the waves were crashing on the reef and sweeping across the shallows with such strong current that it seemed unlikely that a lobster could cling to the reef. We walked anyway for about 20 minutes. I started thinking about a paddle over to the leeward side of the reef. Cyril seems to be agreeable with anything I want to try. "Should we paddle out the pass and risk getting dumped by an unseen wave or lost in the dark?", I ask him.

"Ok", he says, and off we go. Paddling along we shine our underwater flashlights at the coral. We hear thumps on the bottom of our kayaks. Little blue needle fish attract to light and swim straight at it full speed, till they bump into it. Several hit me in the hand and arm, but it doesn't hurt much, though I had heard about one that punctured a dinghy.

"Are we at the pass yet?", Cyril asks.

"I think so", I say, though I really have no idea where we are in this moonless night. We're still drifting on the current of the incoming swells, but now we get another swell coming the other way, so we must be near the pass. Unfortunately, some of this new incoming swell gets big enough that it might break on us, so I say, "Maybe we should head back to the boat."

"Ok", Cyril agrees and back we go. One week in Minerva and I didn't even see a single lobster...oh well. At least spear fishing was more successful.

As Ruth described in the previous posting, Bronte from Cooee, is quite a fisherman. He and his wife "H" plan to spend a month in remote Minerva mainly to fish. It's far enough from populated islands (the nearest one is about Tonga about 250 miles away), that it rarely gets any commercial fishermen. After he brought us the big Wahoo he caught spearfishing I was eager to go with him, at least to watch him in action, if not spear something myself.

Well the first thing to do is have the right gear. My little reef fish spear is wholly inadequate for catching big pelagic fish. Fortunately, Evi has a nice speargun I can borrow, but it will need some modifications. There are several options. Some people attach a reel to the gun with plenty of line. Others attach some type of float to the spear or gun. The idea is once you spear a big fish, you don't want to be underwater holding your breath while attached to him with the short tether normally used on spear guns. Bronte uses something that looks like a big boogie board with 30 meters of bungee on his spear. So I just borrow one of the kids boogie boards and rig something similar. Well it's not quite perfect, but I figure I won't try to spear anything too big.

We go over some procedures. Bronte warns me not to get tangled up in the line after shooting a fish. "These fish will kill you like that. No mercy.", he warns. "I hold onto the bungee with one hand and the gun with the other, but just in case, I have my knife.", he adds.

I'm wishing I brought some kind of knife...my mental picture of the size fish I'm going to spear drops by another notch. "You take this side of the dinghy, I'll take the other. We take turns going down to swim around near the lure. Don't dive down until the other guy is up, so you can see he didn't get shallow water blackout." Sounds reasonable. "If one of us spears a fish the other guy gets in the dinghy and pulls up the lure so it doesn't get tangled. Then help get the fish in, quick before the sharks come." Sounds very reasonable.

We motor out the pass in Bronte's 40hp dinghy equipped with a fishfinder. We watch the bottom change from 80 feet to about 250 feet. "This is the spot", he says. "The sharks like to stay on the shallower shelf and the pelagic fish cruise by these deeper waters." He drops in the parachute anchor and lure and we get in. A big tiger shark cruises by right away and lingers off in the distance. What was he saying about no sharks? I am amazed that the bottom is visible 250 feet down.

After a few minutes we return to the dinghy. "We can't spear anything with that guy around, he'll just zoom in and steal it," Bronte says. I'm not complaining. Off we go to another spot. This time it's 800 feet and we can't see the bottom. A Manta Ray swims around us for about 10 minutes. That's probably a good sign, since some sharks like to eat rays. Then a school of little bait fish show up, and finally a lone Wahoo. It's on Bronte's side of the dinghy. He takes a shot and gets him right in the middle. For a moment, I just watch, before I remember my duties. I jump into action. I get in the dinghy, pull the lure up and the sea anchor and try to start the engine. It won't start...oh oh. And the wind is blowing me towards the reef and away from Bronte. I throw the parachute back in, and try again to start it. This time it goes. I pick up the anchor, zoom to Bronte, where he tosses in a four-foot long tasty Wahoo.

Welcome to Minerva!

2011-06-02T22:54:00.000-07:00

Yesterday morning, May 22nd, we pulled into South Minerva Reef and took a breather from our 1220 mile passage to Fiji. We are anchored in the middle of the ocean. Minerva Reef has the shape of a figure eight and when you look at the horizon you see lots of blue water and waves breaking. There's no land in sight except at low tide when a few coral bombers peep out from the sea. We are anchored in the eastern lobe of the figure eight. The seas and wind are calmer than the rough waters we've experienced the past few days on our journey making for a fantastic full night sleep without the task of waking up every three hours to take watch.

We're not alone in the middle of nowhere. There are four boats total: Wonderland, Tyee, Coee and us. Evi our sailing grandmother on Wonderland is here on her way to Tonga. She has a full boat with five on board, a few who got seasick along the way.

Tyee is a Canadian catamaran with two boys that we met in Panama. Tim hopes to kiteboard with them today. And there's a new friend, Coee, captained by Bronte, a South African, and his German wife who plan to call this isolated reef home for an entire month. Bronte with his grey beard and stalky frame looks like he emerged from a Hemingway novel. He's here for the fishing and takes his dinghy outside the protected reef to spearfish. "There's a lot of nothing out there in the deep," he told Tim yesterday as he described his technique of attaching the spear of his gun with a long line to a boogie board so that when he shoots a fish he can retrieve it easier. He continues, "...but then suddenly you're surrounded by six or seven billfish and that's when it gets exciting."

Bronte ventured out yesterday afternoon and returned with a five foot long Wahoo that he had speared in the head. He gave us the entire fish as a welcoming gift. We've had sushi last night and will be eating fish all week. What a treat!

Rumor has it there's oodles of lobster here as well but we're trying to figure out the technique for finding them. South Minerva and North Minerva, which is about 20 miles away where we had stopped six months ago on our way south to New Zealand, are owned by The Kingdom of Tonga, but Fiji claims it's theirs. Fortunately, none of the patrol boats are here to chase us away like they have with other sailors passing by.

The Kiwi Bird

2011-05-16T20:39:00.000-07:00

Since we've been in the land of Kiwi Birds, I wanted to share what I learned about this most unusual bird.

To start with, the Kiwi cannot fly, even though it has very small wing bones. Some people long ago doubted that the Kiwi even was a bird because their body temperature is 37- 38C, closer to a mammal than a bird and they have feathers that are more like fur.

The Kiwi’s lifetime is quite long. Their nostrils are on the very tip of their beak, which gives them a strong sense of smell. They can also hear very well.

Kiwi bones are filled with marrow, something that mammals have as well, making them heavier. They also have unusually long whiskers. In 1812, European naturalists first encountered the skin of a Kiwi and thought it was so odd they classified it as a penguin! Like the penguin, Kiwis can't fly.

There are 6 Kiwi species:

-North Island Brown/Apterix mantelli
-Great spotted/Apterix hastii
-Little spotted/Apterix owenii
-Haast Tokoeka/Apterix australis haast
-Southern Tokoeka/Apterix australis
-subspecies Fiordland race
-subspecies Stewart Island race

-Okarito Rowi or Okarito Brown/Apterix rowi

All of these birds require a delicate environment rid of predators to survive. But as is usually the case, people have interfered with the Kiwi lifestyle. First, the Polynesians came around 800- 1000 years ago, with Polynesian rats and dogs, major predators to the Kiwi. Then came another invasion, this time the Europeans 200 years ago. They brought cats, pigs, possums, hedgehogs, and worst of all, stoats, ferrets, and weasels.

KIWI HATCHLINGS

Kiwis do have an interesting reproduction pattern that can help against introduced animals. You can’t exactly call it fast, though.

The female Kiwi has an egg that is 1/5 of her own weight. (If you were 100 pounds, you would have a 20 pound baby!) North Island Brown and the Little Spotted Kiwi lay two eggs each, the second four weeks after the previous and within the same season. North Island Brown and Rowi lay a second clutch later in the season, mid June to February. Female Rowi kiwis occasionally lay a third egg.

For these Kiwis, the male sits on the egg. But for the Great Spotted Kiwi and Southern Tokoeka, the parents take turns sitting on the eggs.

The most interesting fact, however, is that the Kiwi chick comes out of the shell fully feathered and open eyed, so it can mature quickly. Chicks venture out of the burrow at one week old, and at 10 days they may stay out the whole night. Something like this amazing feat, however, has several odd requirements. The egg is 60- 65% yolk, which is considered very high for a bird. Eggs need 80 days incubation, much more than most birds.

When incubating, the Kiwi does not go without food. Unlike most Kiwis, though, the Okarito Rowi never leave the nest unattended. Ordinarily, the parent leaves the nest for five hours a night. The Brown and Little Spotted cover the entrance with leaves and twigs. Some Little Spotted on Kapiti Island sometimes even disguise their tracks.

The size and weight of Kiwi eggs vary a lot, but it is approximately equivalent in size to six chicken eggs. Eggshells allow water out and oxygen in, but can also let harmful bacteria through. North Island Brown, Great Spotted, and Southern Tokoeka eggs weigh 430g when layed, as much as a pack of butter. For the same species, the eggs are 125mm long. The little spotted egg is 300g, and 110mm long.

BEHAVIOR

Kiwis are very territorial and call out to trespassers and may fight them. Intruders might include Kiwi or other birds, but some Kiwis attack people and claw at their boots. Kiwis are very aggressive and have been known to beat up a possum.
But once two Kiwi form a pair, it is likely to last a few years if not for life.

DIET

Kiwis are omnivorous, eating plants and small insects. There are 178 species of worms for Kiwis to munch on. One giant worm is called Spenceriella gigantean, and can grow to the width of a garden hose, (imagine trying to eat that if you’re a Kiwi bird!) Kiwis not only eat worms, but also spiders, slugs, snails, centipedes, millipedes, and an array of other insects. They really love beetle larvae and moth caterpillars, yummy! Some even eat freshwater lobster and baby eels.

They are nocturnal because bugs venture out of their burrows at night. The only Kiwis that aren’t nocturnal are the female Steward Island Tokoeka, who must sit on their nest throughout the night. The Kiwi’s have a strong sense of smell because their nostrils at the tip of the beak (more extended than any other bird) assist it in finding food. And the whiskers, known as rectal bristles, act as sensory appendages all help the bird navigate in the dark. The Kiwi also has a sensory organ at the bill tip that detects tiny vibrations from forest floor invertebrates, a feature also found in wading birds. Plus, the long bill all make the Kiwi bird a very good forager.

ORIGINS

Kiwis were probably called kiwi by the Maori because they resembled a bird from eastern Polynesia called the Kivi, (pronounced kee-vee) and the ‘v’ was replaced with a ‘w’.
Their ancestors are all from the Paleonath family which includes all the flightless birds, like the Tinamou, Moa, Elephant bird, Ostrich, Cassowary, and the Emu.

LOCATION

This image gives a good idea of where the different species of Kiwi are found:

HEIGHT

The size of different species of Kiwi varies a lot. The Little Spotted Kiwis are the smallest at 25 cm tall, and some Great Spotted Kiwi and Brown Kiwi can be the size of a domestic hen, 45 cm.

COLOURING, FEATHERS, AND BODY

The North Island and Haast birds have reddish to dark brown plumages.
Okarito Rowi are brown with grey tinges, they have white patches around the head, neck, and face and their feathers are streaked lengthwise, like all kiwi.

The Little Spotted Kiwi has a pronounced grey feathering as with the Great Spotted Kiwi, whose plumage is mottled or banded.

The Kiwi birds still have the remains of wings, and sleep with their head tucked under their waterproof feathers on their wings.

They have a preen gland (something full of oil) near the bird’s backside. They rub their bill up and down this area. It is thought that the oil refreshes the bill and feathers.

The beak is much longer on the female kiwi. For example, on the Stewart Island Tokoeka may reach 15 cm (6in) long. Brown kiwis have it several centimeters shorter.

If any of you bothered to read this, then I hope you will have learned something about the Kiwi birds of New Zealand.

All the pictures in this story were taken from 'The New Zealand Kiwi www.kamcom.co.nz' and if you are interested in Kiwis then please visit their website or even better, come visit New Zealand!

The End.

The Oma Comes to New Zealand

2011-05-14T12:10:00.000-07:00

I, dubbed The Oma with a capital “T” which is Dutch for grandmother, ventured to New Zealand to be with Ruth, Tim, Maya and Kai. I wanted to share my whirlwind of a journey. I'm sorry it's a bit long, but come along ...

It’s Saturday, April 16, and Kamaya is back in the water after a visit to the boatyard. We’re getting ready for a 15 day trip down to the South Island which means cleaning up the boat, packing the car with 5 sleeping bags, 5 back packs with clothes for both hot and cold weather, food in a yellow chili bag, lots of books to read, 39 stuffed animals, deck of cards and like a bushy tail on the car, 4 mountain bikes on a bike rack. We leave not at 11 am as planned, but at 4 pm bulging to the brim and excited for our exploratory voyage.

We had 31 hours to drive the 398 miles to Wellington for the Monday ferry to Picton and anticipated putting good mileage behind us, but curvy roads, stormy weather, rambunctious children and a very tired driver deterred us from getting too far.

We spent the first night in Tirau, home of the corrugated sheep building, a good bakery shop where we breakfasted and a Bendon outlet store which Tim enjoyed more for the name (that’s what the kids call him) than for their line of intimate undergarments.

Next stop -the roaring Huka Falls in Taupo which supplies natural hydro power of more than 220,000 liters of water per second and thus supplies electricity for 20% of the North Island and is a scenic area for photographs and bike riding. The Falls drain into the Waikato River, the longest river on the North Island (for you Jeopardy followers) and drains into Lake Taupo (the largest lake in New Zealand).

Further en route is a touristy Huka Prawn Farm where Kai and Maya fished, yes, only in New Zealand, for tiny little prawns.

After many patient hours, Maya caught one prawn which we boiled and savored – small bite for each one of us - a most appreciated and expensive gustatory experience.

Just in case you want to come a little closer, here's a good look at her catch.

We spent the night near Mt. Ruepeha, known to the Lord of the Rings fans as Mt. Doom, and continued onward to Wellington for the 1:00 ferry – weather rainy and windy as we soldiered on to hear that the ferry had been postponed until 4:00 pm – no worries – we went to the Te Papa Tongarewa Museum, in Wellington, about ½ mile from the ferry terminal, along the spruced up Wellington waterfront. At Te Papa, home of the colossal quid, we took a break from the exhibits and feasted on our comfort food - a carton of Collengie Gold chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream. Back to the ferry terminal where we learned that the strong southeasterly made the crossing iffy and the captains were holding a meeting to determine whether or not to cross the Cook Strait.

The ferry ride was memorable - cars drove right onto the lower deck and passengers made their way up to the 7th floor. We boarded the boat at 6:00 pm and left at 9:00 pm for a very wild ride with waves crashing up to the 7th floor windows. The Captain assured us that although it may be a "bit rough out there, the boat will be safe." And we were, though a number of passengers experienced mal de mere.

Arriving at Picton at 1:00 am, we stayed at a Holiday Park, breakfasted deliciously at the Dutch Bakkereij before heading for the famous Queen Charlotte Area to start our first tramping adventure. The drive from Picton to Mistletoe Bay is windy and magnificent with stunning views of Marlborough Sound around every bend.

We stayed at Mistletoe Bay Eco Village, lovely area with complete community kitchen.
The managers had a classic wooden launch boat called "Winsome" and took us 8 km to Portage Bay where the Kamaya kids biked and The Oma became a "walking machine." There were foot trails and bike trails and Kai and Maya - way ahead of us - took the very difficult James Vogel Trail back to our cabin.

Next day we biked and hiked 13 km to Anakiwa. This was the longest hike for me, but I did it and enjoyed walking amidst the towering silver ferns and lush forest. I look a little exhausted here, and I was, but hey I'm the walking machine.

It is now April 22 and the weather, which has cooperated until now, becomes not only rainy, but stormy. We decide to hole up Nelson and find a little apartment on the outskirts of town, near the beach, facing a soccer field, with a full kitchen, two bedrooms, real bathroom with a bath. We nestle in happily for three days.

Nelson (named in honor of Admiral Nelson who defeated the French and the Spanish fleets in the Battle of Trafalgar in 1805) lies on the Tasman Sea and has a bicycle path around their coast line. The Saturday market -rain or shine- features products from local farmers, wool growers, specialty products, and, of course, lots of good things to eat like the ever present NZ savory pies which Kai loves.

One of the highlights of our journey to the South Island was Harwood's Hole, a 50 meters round, 183 meters deep sinkhole in the limestone rock. To get there Ruth and Tim biked the steep rough pebbly road, Maya and Kai biked part of the way and I was the sag wagon. Of course, there were sheep frolicking the hills.

The 3 km hike to the hole lead through magnificent forest regions which were used in the filming of the Lord of the Rings. We may have seen Gollum lurking in the trees.

On to Marahau, where we stayed at the Marahua Camping Facilities (still clean from our Nelson bathtub) and enjoyed tasty hamburgers from the only restaurant in town. Marahau is the gateway to the Abel Tasman Park, our next hiking adventure. For the jeopardy crowd, Abel Tasman was a Dutch explorer who en route to the Dutch East Indies came across New Zealand. Legend has it that his carpenter swam ashore, planted the Dutch flag on the land and claimed NZ for Holland.

Our trip in the water taxi to a section of the Abel Tasman was almost as rough as the crossing of the Cook Strait. We started out on land, climbed into a good-size motor boat, donned yellow life jackets and put our backpacks in the front of the boat. The boat is then hooked onto a huge tractor and instead of going to the fields, we were pulled through the surf until the water is deep enough for the motorboat to float.

We rode over a big wave, kaboom, and were floating. Like the Captain of our ferry boat, the captain of this boat assured us that because of a southeasterly wind, the ride would be bumpy, but not to worry, a classic Kiwi understatement. First stop, Anchorage Hut where Tim and Ruth jumped off the bow of the boat, into the surf and started their 18 km hike to the Awaroa Hut, our next home and the site where our backpacks would be dumped off.

The water taxi usually made six stops - one at each hut/campground along the trail - but this time we went into some anchorages and back out again because it was too windy and the waves too high to safely let passengers off. Maya, Kai and The Oma should have gotten off the boat at Onetahuti Beach and hiked the 6 kilometers to the Awaroa Hut, but the waves were high and the wind too strong, so we continued to the Awaroa landing - which means beaching the boat backwards - and we took our shoes off, rolled up our trousers, jumped off with the proper wave and our Captain took the backpacks off and there we were - on the beach with five backpacks - two kids and an Oma with no sense of direction. Fortunately, there was only one path up to a lodge where we staged the backpacks - several trips up - treated ourselves to goodies in the heavy yellow chili food bag and discussed next plan of action. Gallant Tim had given instructions that he and Ruth would pick up the backpacks en route from their Anchorage stop and take them to the Awaroa Hut.

Now this might sound easy, but the Awaroa Hut was some 3 km from the beach staging area so we did have a good hike - Kai put on the huge backpack - which looked overwhelmingly heavy , but contained sleeping bags. Maya transported the stuffed animals in the pink backpack, and the water bottles and The Oma had the green backpack with the wine.

Off to the Awaroa Hut, through meadows, good paths - and then a lot of beach with tidal pools to cross. We found our way by following little red signs to the Hut and settled in to our own private quarters. The Awaroa Hut also has a big room with a wood stove. One of the guys at the hut informed us that the estuary was very tidal and we reached it at low tide, but since the tide was rising, we should get the balance of stuff.

So - we dumped the contents of the backpacks on our bunks and started back the 3km to the beach - watching the tide come up - lovely scenery, but we were in a bit of a hurry with visions of being stranded on the beach and the parents being stranded somewhere on the high dunes. This trip should have taken 1/2 hour - but we doubled that time because of the packs and the tide - transferred the heavy chili bag food to various backpacks (we dumped Tim's heavy ice cube in the bushes) - picked up everything and started back. Route now familiar, we could enjoy the tide, the bay, the climate and being in the Abel Tasman Park without fear of being lost. Back at the hut, we began worrying as the tide rose, that the parents were nowhere in sight - but, as Kai so aptly put, "They took the day off" And - as dusk settled and the tide almost reached the hut, two tired but jolly parents arrived - and Tim had somehow found the block of ice that we ditched in the bushes.

Next day we brought all backpacks to be picked up by water taxi in Awaroa, visited the comfortable, 4 star Awaroa Lodge and tramped on to Bark Bay 11 km to catch our water taxi back to Marahau. The tramp up and down a variety of hills and beaches with views of Tasman Bay, songs by a variety of birds, like the Variable Oystercatcher,

funny red mushrooms,

and towering silver ferns gives one a feeling of the beauty of this landscape.

On one of the windy beaches we crossed paths with a fellow sailor, Heather from the boat Ceol Mor, who now lives in Wellington and was tramping with her two sons.

Next adventure, another hiking and biking journey, but this one is more for the locals. We have a late start and follow the Roding River near the town of Richmond to an isolated and sparse DOC cabin called the Hackett Hut. The 5.7 kilometer hike is rocky, a bit scary and ends with a huge steam that we have to cross. The tiny Hackett Hut has a small wood fireplace. It was cold, so we crawled into our sleeping bags, chatted and sang ourselves to sleep. This was Tim’s favorite place; I prefer a little more comfort.

Friday, April 29, we biked and hiked out, and checked into a hotel in Nelson so we could have access to a television and watch The Wedding" with the rest of the world. That evening, Kim, Pierre, Patrick and Thomas from the boat, Victoria, joined us. They had sold their boat in Australia and were visiting New Zealand before heading home to Georgia.

We spent time together in Nelson with a hike in the picturesque Matai Valley, wild rides on go-carts bicycle challenges on the BMX track, fish and chip meals and plans for returning to Picton for 8:00 am ferry ride back to the North Island.

This time, the ferry ride was smooth so, together with the cows on board (look closely at the photo), we enjoyed views of Marlborough Sound and the Cook Strait.

We spent the day touring Wellington and having tea at the home of Heather and her family who live across from the Ferry in a converted sheep shearing barn.

Now I'm skipping to May 3 - the route to Napier, via Rivendell Park, another Lord of the Rings classic, is a 4 hour drive so to pass the time, Ruth drove while Kai, Maya, Tim and I played bridge. I found it a bit hard to concentrate on cards while magnificent countryside rolls by.

Last stop - Rotorua where we shared a bach with "Victoria." We eased our tired bones in the hot springs,

biked and hiked in the Redwoods, a big park, of towering Redwood trees imported more than 100 years ago from California,

ate ice cream at Lady Jane's famous ice cream store on Lake Rotorua, and visited the Rainbow Springs Kiwi Wildlife Park both in the daytime and returned in the evening to see the Kiwi birds foraging for food.

Here we left the "Victorians" and continued on to Auckland, but not before stopping at "Jesters" for savory pies, at the Bendon Outlet Store in Tirau, and at the Hamilton Gardens.

Saturday, May 7 – a busy day cleaning up the car and the bikes and listing them for sale on "Trademe.” Ruth and I went to the local Fish Market and visited the Voyager Museum, one of the best sailing museums in the world.

Sunday, Mothers' Day was lovely - Tim brought flowers, Maya made breakfast, and we went to the Motat Museum and learned how to drink tea with fine gloves. In the late afternoon we biked about 3 miles to Mission Bay with a reward of Genelli's ice cream.

What a fantastic journey!

Kai's South Island Adventure

2011-05-13T14:38:00.000-07:00

April 19th ... I just woke up from a night at the Mistletoe Hut and I am in their community kitchen eating Cluster Crisp Sanitarium Cereal. It's my favorite and I wouldn't mind having it for breakfast, lunch and dinner.

This morning, we are going to go on a little boat and we're also bringing our bikes so we can ride a section of the Queen Charlotte track. I am sure you are wondering what the heck is or who the heck is Queen Charlotte right?

Anyways Queen Charlotte was the wife of King George III in England but it's also a famous place to tramp in New Zealand's South Island. Now, some of you might wonder what tramping means. It doesn't mean being a bum, but it's a Kiwi word for walking. Oma, my grandmother, and my parents are going to tramp today and Maya and I get to bike.

But now I need to finish my breakfast and board the boat.

We're on the boat for about 30 minutes then we got dropped off at a place called Portage Bay. Maya and I started to ride up the trail but it was too steep to ride and we started walking and walking and walking and walking. Eventually the trail got easier and we started riding but then there was more uphill. We rode for a bit, walked for a bit and finally found a fun downhill where we waited for the others. Here's Maya waiting.

They eventually came. Here's Oma and my Mom enjoying the view.

My Dad, Tim, suggested eating lunch. Good idea. Tim took out the lunch and Maya and I had a peanut butter sandwich. I don’t know what the others ate. I'm sure Oma had some gum drops.

The next part was another downhill and Maya and I went way faster than the trampers. We zoomed ahead and planned on meeting everyone back at our hut, which was about 10 kilometers away.

It was quite a steep downhill and we had to walk around the corners but it was really fun. Eventually we made it to a grassy downhill with an uphill at the other side. "I’m first," I told Maya and rode down the hill fast all the way up to the other side. But then we had more uphill.

After a lot of biking we found a sign for the James Vogel Walkway with an arrow to Mistletoe Bay, our home for the night. We decided to take the trail but pretty soon we knew why it was called a walk and not a place for bikes. There were stairs, a super steep trail, tons of tree roots, lots of bush and even bees.

As we struggled down the path, Maya said she hated this James Vogel guy. I just wished we didn't have our bikes on this trail and my parents weren't there to help. We continued to lug our bikes over bridges, streams and stairs.

Finally, we saw the clearing out of the thick forest and we were both excited. I jumped back on my bike. We made it!

Maya Performs in Seussical

2011-04-14T12:36:00.000-07:00

Here are some photos from Maya's school performance of Seussical. It was fantastic and the highlight, of course for her Mum, Dad and Oma, was Maya's unicycling in the circus scene.

The Cat in the Hat making mischief ...

Kamaya Our Treehouse

2011-04-13T11:33:00.000-07:00

Treehouse ... wait a second, boat's are supposed to be in the water, floating, with the wind strumming her halyards. Not this week!

Last Friday, we hoisted Kamaya out of the water and into our backyard boatyard here at Pier 21.

She's now perched on the hard getting a spa treatment. We have a 12-foot ladder to climb up to our home. We pee in the yellow bucket and climb up and down the ladder as needed. We're a fish out of water, a whale stuck on a beach. It is an improvement from our June 2009 haul-out in Panama when we were on the rails, living on a slant with cups sliding down the table and blood rushing to our head when we slept.

Tim and I sanded and sanded all weekend. Yesterday Gloss Boats sprayed New Zealand Jotun bottom paint on her and painted Propwise on our prop to keep the nasty barnacles from setting up shop.

We're also changing the color of the boot stripe today to a tidy navy blue. The hull is getting buffed and waxed. Tim is replacing a thru-hole and hopefully we'll be back in the water tonight so Oma - who arrives this morning - doesn't have to pee in the yellow bucket.

Interview with Kai

2011-04-05T13:23:00.000-07:00

Kai, you’ve been going to Freeman's Bay School for the past three months in New Zealand. How many kids are in your class?

I think 25.

Who are your teachers?

Anne and Jenny. Anne is a from New Zealand and Jenny is from Korea.

How do you get to school everyday?

I bike every day. It's less than 10 minutes away and I have a really cool black Fuji bike.

What’s do you like the most about school?

Probably guitar lessons. I’m learning to play the song, Get Back by Paul McCartney and John Lennon. I also like swimming when it was warm here and playing handball at lunch time.

It’s morning, here in Auckland and Kai is having breakfast before we go to school.

What are you eating?

I’m eating a crepe with ice cream.

Ice cream! How decadent. Your grandmother Oma would love to be here and share that crepe. Why do you get to eat ice cream?

Because we have shore power and get to turn on our freezer.

What’s your favorite thing to do in Auckland?

Getting books from the library.

What are you reading right now?

The Emperor of Nihoja by John Flanagan

What else have you been reading?

Lots of Asterix books. My favorite one is Asterix the Gladiator. It’s really funny.

I understand you’re learning about the stock market. What’s been your best stock pick?

BIDU, it’s the Chinese Google. I’ve made about $8000 on UP DOWN, a stock market game where I got to start with $1 million dollars.

Thanks Kai, it's time for school

Parting Shot - fun halyard swinging with Maya

Photos courtesy of Evi Nemeth, svWonderland

Making Our Own Hot Tub

2011-04-04T17:15:00.000-07:00

At 11 am, two hours before low tide, we put on our togs (that's Kiwi for swimsuit) and arrived at Hot Water Beach with spades – not the playing cards - but shovels – and began digging. Our campground host advised us to find the perfect spot, one that’s not too hot as we would end up with scalded bums nor too cold as it wouldn’t be the perfect home-made hot tub.

We thought we found a good spot so eager Kai started digging with Maya. The neighbor hole diggers, a young Swedish couple, had already dug a substantial hole three foot deep. They even had a barrier to block the surf. “Do you know why it isn’t warm?” she asked me.

I smiled and remarked that it reminded me of Louis Sachar’s book, Holes, where the prison boys are forced to dig thousands of holes in search of a lost treasure. “Maybe it’s a New Zealand joke and we’re helping them look for a lost diamond ring,” I suggested, skeptical that warm water would actually percolate out of the sand.

But then I saw an older English woman in a black swimsuit shuffling her feet in the surf. “It’s burning down here,” she remarked to anyone who would listen. I walked up to her and wiggled my feet like I too was dancing in the sand. Within seconds, I felt the hot sand. “It’s true, this isn’t an April Fool’s joke.”

We changed our location, joined forces with other intrepid diggers and constructed a perfect hot tub, engineered such that the scalding hot water pool could warm up the cooler pool. Instead of turning the spigot, we blocked the water with sand as we enjoyed our warm water soak with the hundreds of other travelers lined up on the beach. When it got too hot, we cooled off in the chilly ocean.

Next time, we'll bring an umbrella for shade and a chilly bin (that’s Kiwi for a cooler).

Stop Shaking Us!

2011-03-15T10:05:00.001-07:00

In celebration of Art Month here in Auckland, the kids learned about protesting. The sign above spells out my current thoughts. It's difficult to grasp the devastation caused by the earthquake and tsunami in Japan. The images look like they came from the Hollywood movie, 2012, and not from anything real.

Kai and Ryan, our friend from the catamaran Stray Kitty, had something to say about dolphins.

Maya, Celia and Andrea also wanted to stop the world from harming sea creatures.

And for the chocolate lovers, what do you think of this sign?

Since we're getting around the city on bikes, I'm ready to stand on the corner and wave a placard, saying, "Be kind to bikers." Along the same theme, it'd be great to get everyone to "Stop Using Cars," but that's a huge dream, especially here where people seem wedded to traffic.

And how about smoking? My UC Berkeley roots are shaking away. "Stop smoking in front of kids." I just learned that there are laws in California, Oregon, Arkansas, Hawaii and Maine prohibiting adults from smoking in a car with children on board. Many countries, including parts of Australia, Canada and the United Arab Emirates have similar laws. A bit Big Brotherish, but still a good idea. Imagine if China adopted a similar law.

All right you readers -- if anyone is out there --- what would you have on your placard?

Happy Wednesday or Tuesday for those on the otherside of the international dateline.

Ireland comes to Auckland

2011-03-12T11:47:00.000-08:00

Maya, Kai and Celia hopped on their unicycles, donned their Irish garb and helped bring a bit of Ireland to Auckland in yesterday's St. Patrick Day's Parade.

Maya and Kai did their backwards and forwards push me - pull you dance...

They weaved in and around the big giraffe unicyle as they made their way up Queen Street.

The bagpipes played on ...

And the floats had gorgeous little fairies.

The Irish flags waved.

Green sparkled the air

Shamrocks surfaced everywhere.

And Ireland came to Auckland ...

Earthquakes and Pirates

2011-03-03T09:26:00.000-08:00

Here in Auckland, we didn’t feel the devastating earthquake that rumbled Christchurch on February 22. Christchurch is an island away from us. It’s in the South Island almost 500 miles from us here in the North Island.

What a horrible event. The people living in Christchurch have been experiencing earthquakes almost daily since the big one hit September 3rd. Today Maya and Kai and their classmates are wearing red and black to school and bringing canned food to support the victims of the quake.

Another horrifying event is the piracy in Somalia. We don’t know the Danish family on the boat Ing that is currently under siege, but people docked in our marina are good friends with them and said they received an email from the Johansen family just days before they were kidnapped stating that the parents thought they would be safe since they have three children on board.

I cringe at this naive statement and want to respond, “What were you thinking? Going somewhere so dangerous with your precious cargo?” Now isn’t the time to lecture and hindsight provides clear vision.

Many sailors that we know are considering following their route and sailing up the Gulf of Aden and through the Suez Canal. After all, that’s the shortest and easiest way to circumnavigate, plus it brings them to the Mediterranean and Europe. Some plan to participate in a convoy with a fleet of boats for protection; others are considering shipping their boat with Dockwise through Pirate Alley. If anyone asks me, I’d advise them not to go. It isn’t worth the risk. Go the other way – across the Indian Ocean, South Africa and Brazil. It might be longer and harder, but you’ll be much safer.

Rotorua - What Fun!

2011-02-13T13:51:00.000-08:00

We picked Maya and Kai up after school on Friday in our new but old car with four bikes on the back and headed south to Rotorua. Our local friends cautioned us about Rotorua, calling it "Roto-Vegas" since it is one of the most touristy places in the North Island. But, heck, we're tourists and we wanted to see what all the hype was about. I'd say it was well worth it.

My favorite was seeing the infamous Kiwi bird who used to be all over New Zealand until the rabbits, stoats, possoms and dogs came along. The poor flightless bird couldn't protect itself or its large eggs so its population declined quickly nearly to extinction. Now, there are a number of organizations, like Kiwi Encounter, that are working to save the Kiwi bird.

The Kiwi bird is pretty funny and so unusual. First and foremost, the female lays the huge egg (actually she has two ovaries and lays two eggs, but often not at the same time), and the male is in charge of taking care of the egg.

Other funny attributes of the Kiwi bird is that they're more like mammals than birds. Their nostrils are situated at the end of their long beak; they have whiskers like a cat; they have tiny wings, but they can't fly; their feathers are more like fur and they have bone marrow just like humans. They're nocturnal, so we visited the Kiwi Encounter first in the morning to see the baby Kiwis and then at night to watch some of the adults in action.

One Kiwi bird named Forest put on a great show at our night visit - she bounced and pounced looking for food and moved her long beak in a comical way. Kiwi birds like to eat Meal Worms which supposedly taste like peanut butter. Yum!

Maya and Kai's favorite activity in Rotorua was the exhilarating luge ride where they drove their own three wheeled cart and zoomed down the concrete track.

This particular luge was designed and manufactured right in Rotorua and the slogan, "Once is Never Enough," seemed appropriate since the kids asked as soon as we got off the Gondola - we took a gondola up to the luge - when we're planning to go back to Rotorua.

Tim says he liked the mountain biking the best and indeed it was world-class and spectacular amidst the silver ferns and Redwood trees. The trails were well marked and most were one way.

After all this activity, we soaked in the thermal hot pools and then like most working people had to make our way back to the big city Sunday night. But before heading back, we stopped for the second time at one of the best ice cream stores in New Zealand, a place called Lady Jane's Ice Cream Parlour.

Photos of Kiwi Bird courtesy of Kiwi Encounter at Rainbow Springs

Important Stuff

2011-02-07T16:13:00.000-08:00

Ok, we need to talk about the real important things in New Zealand. You might think I'm thinking about the incredible boats surrounding us, like the wild looking winged sail America's Cup 45 that we got to see up close today ...

Yes, the AC45 is pretty cool and one of the sailing gurus that I met today told me we were witnessing something revolutionary. Sticking an airplane wing on a sailboat might well be revolutionary ... and yes it's bringing professional sailing to a different level. Moreover, it's even cooler that the boats are being made in Warkworth at a place called Core Builders which is less than an hour from Pier 21, our home at the moment.

But, Warkworth has something else going for it,

something that's super important here in New Zealand. Something that Captain Cook brought here when he visited in 1773. Something that has four legs and goes bleet .... yes.. you guessed it ...it's sheep. Did you know that there are more sheep than people inhabiting New Zealand? In fact for every person, there are about 12 sheep.

They're pretty cute.

Some of them are even pink.

And sometimes they need a haircut. Like this one.

Maya, Kai and I learned how to shear the sheep. It looks easy, but it's a tough work and it's pretty incredible to imagine that one shearer could do the job in 15 seconds.

Also living in Warkworth is Joey, the possum. Most Kiwis (that's what we call the New Zealand people) don't think very highly of the possums, and some have even declared an all out war against the possum, but Joey is pretty cute. When we held him, he licked us endlessly and we learned that he also likes to suck on lollies (another Kiwi term for lolly pops).

I think Donkey from the movie, Shrek, also has a relative living in Warkworth. He likes to be stroked behind his ears.

Little Ducky You're the One

2011-02-01T01:25:00.001-08:00

Today was one of those beautiful clear days here in Auckland with the sun shining and people out and about on the Viaduct, a part of Auckland's swank waterfront. I picked Maya up from her third day of school and we both biked back home to the boat. Note: Maya is going to school which you'll hear more about in future blogs and I don't know how to drive on the wrong side of the road, so we get around on our bikes.

But back to the story, we were pleasantly surprised to see a big little duckling in the water ...

And look who was also examining the duckling!

That's one of the old America's Cup boats.

We had another good sighting, something pretty cool ... the New America's Cup 45 catamaran. We couldn't get very close, but from a distance the mainsail looks like it came off straight off an airplane. Apparently, we're going to be seeing more of them in Auckland. The AC 45s are the scaled down version of the America's Cup 72s that will be racing in San Francisco in 2013. How exciting!

In the meantime ... what was the big little duckling doing on the water? I understand it's been in many other cities around the world.

And what is Kai doing?

Life in Auckland

2011-01-14T10:50:00.000-08:00

We've been living in Auckland the past month, excited to be in the City of Sails with the highest boat per people ownership in the world. Most of our time has been working on Kamaya, preparing her for sale ... so if anyone wants to live their dream, Kamaya is an incredible comfortable, sturdy, beautiful floating home. We just put a tab on the blog with details about our wonderful home and we're creating a separate website.

In between, sanding, varnishing,

cleaning, buffing, polishing and more, we've also had some fun. Fortunately, we have friendly boat neighbors, especially, Innocenti, a Kiwi boat-family with three kids, Celia, Fergus, and Rachel and parents, Angus and Anna.

Over the holidays, Maya and Celia created a performance that's took halyard swinging to almost a Cirque de Soleil level .

Kai and Fergus played the monkeys high up in the peanut gallery.

Evi, our friend from the boat Wonderland, came down from Opua up in the North to help out, mostly by eating ice cream with Maya and Kai and exploring the city with them. They went up the sky tower and fortunately didn't bungy jump, like this man.

We also farm/house-sat our friend Robin's place over the holidays and took care of Billy the goat, Tara the dog, Stormy the cat and the clucking chickens and boisterous rooster.

Here, Billy is looking fairly obedient, but sometimes he wasn't so good. One day he bucked his way through the chicken coop and into the garden.

And he also wanted to come with us in the car -- that mischievous goat.

Tara the dog liked to sleep with Kai.

And Maya fed the chickens twice a day.

Overall, Auckland's a fantastic city. The jury is still out whether farm life beats boat life -- both are pretty demanding.

Happy New Year!

2010-12-31T14:31:00.000-08:00

by Maya

Wow, it’s been a big year. We’ve done lots of things. But where will I start?
Let’s start at the beginning of last year. We visited our paternal grandparents in Virginia. There was snow at their home, which doesn’t happen too often. Kai and I and our cousins built a big igloo in the snow. We had lots of fun. But soon we had to fly back to the warm tropics.

Panama. There we met our good friends Stray Kitty and Tyee. We almost adopted the cutest little kitten named Mochito. His tail was cut off. But we realized that he would be a lot better off on land.

We had just moved from Ecuador. Fortunately, there was another ‘kid boat’ called Victoria with two boys my age. In our little town, Bahia de Caraquez, there lived a big Galapagos tortoise in the schoolyard. His name was Miguelito. We traveled inland a bit, to Cuenca where we ate at the best meat ever at a restaurant called Tiestos with chef Juan Carlos. Then we went to Quito, where Kai’s old Spanish teacher Pilar lived.

Next up is the famous Galapagos. The wildlife there is amazing. There are penguins and sea lions,

marine iguanas,

land iguanas,

finches, albatross,

and the giant prehistoric tortoise, which I saw in Ecuador. Galapagos Archipelago is a very touristy place as well. The tour boats have taken over the islands, and several months after we left, a new law had been passed that allows cruising boats to stay no more than 20 days. Fortunately we were not caught up in that and got stayed almost two months.

We made the big crossing from the Galapagos to the Marquesas. With one movie night, one chocolate day, and one baking day, we were doing pretty well food- wise. It took us 16 ½ days before we finally sighted Fatu Hiva, French Polynesia.

Did you notice the word ‘French’ in French Polynesia? That means clean streets and good food. Fatu Hiva, and the rest of the Marquesas are all very lush and mountainous. There are beautiful hikes, and pretty waterfalls. The only downfall is the water is a tiny bit murky in some spots.

One of the best experiences in this island group would be snorkeling Tahuata. There are small Manta rays, only six foot wingspan, and we jumped in the water with them.
We’ve also seen bigger mantas, like the ones we saw in Maupiti.

But soon we had to move on to the Tuomotus. Our first stop was Fakarava.
Ever heard of The South pass of Fakarava? Sound familiar? Have you been reading the blog long enough to know? For those of you who haven’t, I will explain.
Fakarava itself is an atoll, a circle of land with water inside and outside. But there are holes in the circle, and strong currents flow through. These gaps are called passes. Rich nutrients flow through the passes. Nutrients means lots of fish, tons of fish means abundance of sharks.
These passes create beautiful diversity. There are the blacktip reef sharks, the grey sharks, the silvertip sharks.

There are also very pretty reef fish.

One of the most amazing fish is the humphead wrasse, also known as the Napoleon fish. That name is a joke. These fish are as big as a shark, and could eat my brother Kai!

Just kidding, they don’t actually eat people.
The cool thing is that the current runs really fast, and you get swept by the reefs without swimming.

But enough about Fakarava, let’s go to Toau. The reason I love Toau so much is because there are a bunch of dogs. One dog called Rubi has five puppies. There’s another big golden retriever who’s a really nice dog.

Next is Tahiti where we sailed 40 miles upwind with Oma and Poppa Nate to see the full solar eclipse. It was so impressive that we now count years AE for After Eclipse, instead of AD.

If you ever go to Bora Bora, make sure you do the hike. There’s an amazing view.
Suwarrow in the Cook Islands is full of sharks, and two really fun park rangers. Their names are Api and James. Once we went coconut crab hunting with them. They host parties onshore, with big bonfires. Suwarrow is a lot of fun.

Then there is Tonga, with all the whales that we didn’t see. Tonga, like Galapagos, has a tour boat problem. Instead of touring islands, these boats whale-watch.
They tell cruisers it’s against the law for them to get in the water with a whale. Then they cut between the yacht and the whale, and put their swimmers in.

Next Kamaya went to New Zealand, where people talk in funny English. They have different words for various things such as these. Take a guess at what they mean.

Togs:
Jandals:
Bach:
Capsicum:

But I forgot all about resolutions!

My last year’s resolution was to read 100 books. Then I calculated my goal and found out that I would have to read 3 books a week, so I changed it to 75. But that still seemed too much. It became 50. But I read that many early on, so I changed back to 75. Now I’ve surpassed that goal, and it’s back to 100. I’m at 83 books today and I have one day left. Can I make it?

Probably not. But I’ll try anyway.

Well, I still need some resolutions for this year. I was thinking of these, but it’s not enough.
1: learn to do a quadruple flip halyard swinging.
2: read 100 books. (again.)
3: … I don’t know, what do you think?

Please comment.

My Perspective on 2010

2010-12-30T18:46:00.000-08:00

This year, 2010, had some good things and bad things. Let's start with the bad things that happened to me.

Here's the worst thing that happened. In Panama while we were on the boat getting ready to sail across the Pacific, I shot Maya with a rubber band then she got really mad. She kicked me and my head hit a piece of wood. I felt the back of my head and there was lots of blood. Maya cracked open my scull! I got 5 stitches!!!!!!!

Another bad thing happened to me. In New Zealand, I was biking and I went sideways on a curb and fell. My face, my hand, and my knee was bloody! I didn't get stitches this time, but a lot of road rash.

And now the good things.

Memaw, my grandmother, gave me the game, Settlers of Catan, for my birthday. It's a really fun game! Plus, I had one of the best birthday parties ever in Fakarava, the Tuomotos. We played games and had a sand castle contest.

Another good thing. My great Aunt Tilly came to Tahiti on the 17th of July and brought us climbing harnesses. You see we learned how to halyard swing from Pickles, another kid boat, and now we have are own harnesses! With the harness, I can swing on the side of the boat and sometimes up high.

Books have also been good things. We just went to the Auckland City Library to pick up a book called, The Sword of Mercy. It's the fourth book in the series by Dave Barry and Ridley Pearson. It's really good, you should read it!

Here's another good book. We've been waiting months for The Emperor of Nihon-ja to come out. It finally did! It's the 10th book in the Ranger's Apprentice Series and you should read that too!

On Christmas morning, Maya and I woke up super early and then we woke up our parents to open our presents and look under the tree I made out of legos. I was happy because Santa came.

I got some cards that give you a few things and we each got a watch. Finally we opened our last present which was a stuffed sheep! His name is Shawn. I also got a cool black bicycle!

And, lastly, we fixed the freezer and now we have ice cream on the boat!

It's been a great year, but now it's time to stop writing and start eating ice cream!

Cinnamon Flop

2010-12-19T18:02:00.000-08:00

What the heck do you think a Cinnamon Flop is?

Well, it's not a belly flop into the Pacific Ocean and it's not a total mess up on a bike. Cinnamon Flop is a really good dessert that looks like a cake with cinnamon, brown sugar, and flour on top.

For my Dad's birthday I wanted to make cinnamon buns but we did not have that recipe and we were also out of eggs so I made Cinnamon Flop instead.

Here's the special recipe:

1c sugar
2c flour
2t baking powder
1T melted butter
1c milk
(topping flour, brown sugar, and cinnamon)
push in butter chunks.

When you mix the ingredients, make sure to tell a story. First you mix the sugar, flour and baking powder, then add the butter and then the milk. Put this in a baking pan and then get ready to put the topping on top. You sprinkle the brown sugar, flour and cinnamon on top and then push in chunks of butter. Bake at 350 degrees.

Every time I make Cinnamon Flop, it tastes and looks different, but it's always good.

You should make it!

P.S. If I look a little bruised in this photo - I am. I had a little flop on my new bike but I'm doing much better.

G'day Mateys!

2010-12-14T14:23:00.000-08:00

G'day mateys ... while many of you in the northern hemisphere may be schussing down the ski slopes, building snow creatures, and bundling up for winter, we've got our "sunnies" on (sunglasses) and we're settling into summer in "N. Zed," that's short for New Zealand.

To bring a little of the wintry Christmas feel, we found a gigantic snow globe set up at the park in Auckland, our new home.

Instead of living inside the snow globe as some of you in Hood River and Minnesota are, we're in a marina in the center of the city, near some jaw-drop gorgeous yachts as well as intrepid America's Cup boats.

And we're learning to speak Kiwi. Now don't confuse that with the Kiwi fruit, that we're also enjoying, nor the Kiwi bird that we're still searching for.

G'day mates!

P.S. Great Kiwi saying that I learned from my boat neighbor Angus -- "It was blowing so hard that it blew the chain off the dog."

The Bay of Islands

2010-12-06T23:44:00.000-08:00

Opua is the first mandatory stop in the Bay of Islands for boats arriving from foreign waters. It is here where we must check in with New Zealand customs and immigration. Actually, the officials know we’re coming as their airplanes spotted us in the distant waters, and even radioed us on VHF Channel 16 from the sky. But to make sure they know we’re coming - you know government often likes redundancy -- we also were required to email authorities 48 hours in advance of our arrival.

At the quarantine dock, we raised our yellow flag and the officials boarded Kamaya. One of the first things they did was check our Raymarine chart plotter to make sure that we didn’t stop in New Zealand waters along the way. Perhaps they feared we were smuggling Tongans.

Next came the custom’s dog who sniffed the boat for illegal drugs and the man from agriculture took our remaining fresh fruit and vegetables. We had eaten almost all of our food, even the green bananas that I flambéed as we were motoring to the dock. We didn’t have much to give him except for a mostly eaten jar of honey and a withered cucumber.

Tim joked that our cupboards were so empty that they might send us to child protective services for failing to feed our kids. Our fear that they would take our collection of seashells, wooden bowls and other trinkets was unfounded.

A number of people from our South Pacific fleet park their boats in the Opua marina, buy a car and call Opua home, but after a few nights of uninterrupted sleep we were ready to explore The Bay of Islands (called "the bay" by locals) before sailing south to Auckland, the city of sails.

The Bay has fantastic anchorages with plenty of stomping trails, and calm waters to catch up on school. One favorite place where we called home for a bit was Russell, with its classic Boating Club, big green grass and floating oyster barge. Although it used to be a wild west town, it's now pretty quaint and, most important, it has two ice cream stores, both serving the infamous hokey pokey flavor (think caramel mixed with creamy vanilla).

Perhaps the most beautiful anchorage is at Roberton Island, where the great Captain Cook, anchored as well. It's also where Tim scooped up handfuls of green-lipped mussels for dinner.

Another rival in terms of stunning beauty is Urupukapuka Island (try saying that three times in a row).

Just across the bay from Russell is Paihia. Take a look at the glowing full moon --

Here, we do our big shopping at the CountDown, buy duck eggs at the Farmer's market, and walk the tightrope at Action World. Our new friend Christina, who lives in her camper van in Paihia, drove us to the bigger town called Kerikeri where we watched the much anticipated Harry Potter movie. Along the way, the sheep bleeted away happily, confirming that we indeed are in New Zealand. I’m still pinching myself, amazed that we sailed all the way across the huge Pacific Ocean.

Our favorite creatures, the bottlenose dolphins, frolick in the Bay, luring the tourist boats to their show.

We're looking for the flightless kiwi bird and haven't seen one yet. But we did encounter hundreds of shearwaters feasting at the Hole in the Rock. We watched them flutter along the water and then suddenly align themselves in perfect formation.

Happy Birthday Maya!

2010-11-19T20:16:00.000-08:00

Maya turned 11 on Thursday, November 18th and it just so happened that our new friend Christina turned 22 the day before. Christina works at Action World in Paihia and that's where we celebrated Maya's Birthday Party. We couldn't have asked for a more perfect venue for Maya, our unicyclist.

Here she tried the flying trapeze just like they have in the circus.

She also mastered the tight rope - (4 meters/12 feet in the air) ... it took a lot of practice but she walked all the way across without falling.

And she flew threw the air on a flying carpet.

Even the parents had fun on the x-treme slide. Here's a great shot of Christine from Stray Kitty getting some air and notice her hair!

The jousting log was a hit. Dave from Nikita was the king of the log, even battling his wife, Rayann.

Ondine from MoJo was the Queen of the log.

If you are ever in New Zealand and have an urge to swing on the trapeze, we strongly urge you to visit Action World, www.actionworld.co.nz The owners, Frank and Carol Osler, developed a special airbag landing system which allowed us novices to feel like we were ready to join the circus.

Tim might be ready...he received the first Champion certificate for flying like a bird to catch the second bar on the trapeze, walking all the way across the highwire, ringing the bell on the top of the climbing wall and flying over the sissy wall on the jungle swing. Go Tim!

Parting shot....

Birthday girl Christina demonstrating her skill on the trapeze.

We made it to New Zealand!

2010-11-09T01:05:00.000-08:00

Early November when cyclone season officially starts in the South Pacific, most sailboats migrate to safe zones. Some sail to Australia, some to New Zealand and the bold ones bury their boats in sand in Fiji. We chose New Zealand, even though the 1050 mile journey from Tonga can be treacherous.

In fact, it can be such a difficult passage that Jim Corenman warns in his South Pacific primer guide to "avoid getting pasted twice. The problem is that the weather fronts cross New Zealand every 7 or 8 days, but the northern end of the front trails behind as the front moves east. So the fronts are effectively moving north as you head south. The farther south you are the earlier you will see the front and the more boisterous it will be. So take your licks early and try like heck not to get pasted near the end of the trip."

While waiting for a weather window in Nuku’alofa, I started getting nervous about our last big passage. I knew Kamaya can handle strong winds, but it's super unpleasant to beat into 40 knot winds like some of the boats had encountered on their journey. Tim assured me that we wouldn’t get pasted twice.

That last week in October, we were with a fleet of boats also heading to New Zealand. All of us constantly looked at the grib files, chatted about the weather, and waited for New Zealand weather guru Bob McDavitt to advise us when to come south. On October 31st, we received the go ahead. Our window was open, McDavitt emailed us. But he also stated that we need to worry about the low forming off of Australia and must arrive in New Zealand before the 9th of November.

So on Halloween, after a morning of trick-or-treating boat-to-boat (Maya was a witch and Kai was King Arthur),

and a game of tug-of-war...Big Mama's was a great place

we hauled up our anchor and headed towards Minerva Reef, 275 miles away. The winds were perfect, 10 to 15 knots from the East, as we said good-bye to Tonga.

Two days later at 8 am on November 2nd, just as we were pulling into Minerva Reef, our fishing line went zipppp. We scampered around as usual. Maya and Kai doused the main and furled the jib, I slowed the boat down and Tim doned the fighting belt. Then suddenly the fish went super deep and pulled hard on the line. We fought harder. He fought harder, or so we thought.

When we managed to get the yellow-fin tuna close to the boat, it looked funny. It had a huge bite out of it. It was half eaten by a shark! We were battling a shark! Well, at least the shark shared.

We anchored inside the atoll, enjoyed tuna sushi, the respite from the rolling seas, and snorkelled the pass. Another boat, Shannon, was with us and they said while snorkelling, they saw white-tipped sharks mating. We saw the sharks, but not in the act. We also saw a huge grouper the size of Kai.

Continuing on from Minerva Reef to Opua, New Zealand we had wind in all different directions, but never over 30 knots. In fact, contrary to Jim Corenman’s article, we never got hammered. Poseidon was super kind to us.

At night, the bioluminescence sparkled in the water and the farther south we sailed, the more layers we had to wear. The flying fish continued to whizz through the air. Kai found this unlucky one on our deck.

We had one spectacular day flying the spinnaker, another day with little wind that forced us to motorsail for too many hours. The most stunning day happened early Monday morning just after sunrise when I saw land.

It was a morning I'll always remember and made up for all the sleepless nights at sea. There was a rainbow circling the sky and an albatross with its 8 foot wingspan greeting us. Once the kids woke up, we had dolphins playing on our bow.

We made it! We made it all the way across the Pacific Ocean and we didn't get hammered.

Parting shot...New Zealand customs dog sniffing the boat

Kiting with Dad

2010-11-09T00:07:00.000-08:00

My dad is really good at kiteboarding and I've been watching him whizzing through the water all over the place. We talked about kiting together for a long time. I’ve always wanted to try it.

Finally, I got the opportunity. It was in Tonga, at Big Mama's beach. Tim surfed in and jumped off his board.

I climbed on his back.

And then we zoomed through the water.

We experimented with me being in front of him and on the board, but the line connecting to the kite squeezed me. Then, we tried kiting with me standing on the back of the board, and that worked perfectly. What fun!

Here are some photos of Dad flying fast on the kite. He can jump super high.

And he likes to show off.

I can't wait to go again.

Photos of Tim jumping courtesy of Tom from Emily Grace

Happy Halloween!

2010-10-28T17:53:00.000-07:00

Here in Nuku'alofa and all over Tonga, we've seen these wild creatures flying amidst the trees. During the day, they roost upside down dangling from branches.

At dusk, they're busy flying around, eating fruit and insects, especially mangos.

They have furry heads, a pointed nose just like a fox, but long wings and a red tongue.

They'll be out tonight ..... celebrating Halloween. Look up in the sky, you just might see one!

Hanging in the Ha'apai

2010-10-27T14:36:00.000-07:00

We left the Vav’au Group at 6 in the morning October 12 with five other boats, Stray Kitty, Anthem, Imagine, Nikita and Jackster. It was flat calm, but as predicted the winds came up from the northeast, giving us a 60 mile downwind ride to the next Tongan islands, the Ha’apai Group.

Like the Tuomotos in French Polynesia, the Ha’apai Islands are also coral atolls, rich with tropical life. We hoisted our spinnaker and enjoyed the sail to the first Ha’apai island, Ofolanga. Here's a fun picture of Kamaya with Jackster -- don't worry we didn't collide.

At Uoleva Island, I can see Tofua, an active volcano. Sometimes the volcano spews red flames into the air, but today, October 20th, it is calm. Here, in this stretch of the Pacific Ocean, the famous mutiny of the Bounty occurred.

It happened in the wee hours of the morning on April 28, 1789, when Fletcher Christian abruptly woke up Captain William Bligh. The sun had yet to rise. Christian seized Bligh and at gunpoint forced Bligh and 18 loyal men, off of the bigger 215 ton ship and into the 23-foot launch boat.

Bligh took his men to Tofoa and stayed there in a cave. At first the Tongans were friendly, welcoming them with coconuts and breadfruit. But then relations changed. Perhaps the Tongans noticed Bligh’s weakness or perhaps they wanted more from Bligh. Suddenly, Bligh and his men rushed out of the cave and as they were getting back into their small boat, the Tofuans threw stones at them. One man died, but the others escaped. This sour experience with locals shaped Bligh’s plans; he chose to go to the island of Timor, a Dutch colony, and not to trust anyone along the way.

If only we were here 211 years ago then we could have saved Captain Bligh from his grueling 41 day, 3618 mile journey. But then again, if we were here 211 years ago, people might not have been so welcoming and Captain Bligh might not have been so nice either.

Indeed, time often changes things as it has here in Tonga. Forty years after Bligh’s bad experience, the Wesleyan (Methodist) missionaries arrived in Tonga, converted the chief of the Ha’apai and crowned him King George Topou I. The country transformed, after a big battle, from a cannibalistic tribal society into a religious one. The missionaries even persuaded people to cover up – they used to wear woven leaf skirts called ta’ovalas with nothing underneath; but now they wear their traditional mats over their clothes.

Most villages that we’ve visited in Tonga have at least four churches, including the The Church of Tonga, The Mormon Church, The Free Wesleyan Church, and the Catholic Church. I asked Blair Gilbert, a peace corps volunteer from Texas stationed in the remote island of Ha’ano, why the Tongans so heartily embrace Christianity, and she responded that the Tongans like the routine, community and beliefs that accompany being a member of the church. She said that often people attend church every day and three times on Sunday.

“It gives them structure and something to do,” she told us during our visit to the school where she teaches English. Blair came to our boat and tried halyard swinging, a first for her.

Sailing in the Ha’apai Group requires keen awareness of coral reefs as they are all over, spectacular, almost alien looking,

with so many different shapes and sizes...

And these beautiful reefs can also be dangerous for sailboats. Earlier this month, a French boat, La Tortue, anchored in the small island of Kelefesia. In the late afternoon, their anchor drug and, to make matters worse, their engine wasn’t working so they couldn’t motor away from the reef. They set two more anchors, but it didn’t work and sadly the fero-cement boat ended up on the reef with a big hole in it. It eventually sank and our friends on Tyee, Jangada and Zephrus went to the island to help salvage the boat.

Many of us sailors are reflecting on the recent loss of La Tortue, trying to learn lessons from the tragedy. We wonder why they left the main island of Nuku’alofa with strong 25-30 knot winds; we wonder why they decided to go into Kelefesia, a place where guidebooks recommend going only in calm winds. We know they went down to Nuku’alofa to pick up friends from France who had a limited amount of time. Perhaps being on a schedule threw them off in the first place and set the disaster in motion. It’s amazing how fast things can spiral out of control.

Talking about schedules, it’s time for us to get ready to leave the tropics before cyclone season. Yesterday, October 28th, we had an intense sail to Nufu’alofa with 25 to 30 knot winds and rain. I'm hoping that wasn't a preview of our next 1,025 mile passage to New Zealand.

Vava'u Regatta Week

2010-10-11T12:14:00.000-07:00

September 22nd, we went somewhere where Captain James Cook was persuaded not to go. In fact, Cook was told one of the biggest navigational lies when he was in Tonga’s Ha’apai Islands in 1777 -- that the Vava’u Group situated about 50 miles northeast from where Cook was anchored was a bad place for boats, that it lacked protected harbors and safe anchorages.

But we knew better thanks to the numerous sailors who have ventured in these waters. We sailed through the wide Pule Pule Kai Passage and into the protected flat waters of Vava’u where there are more than 40 anchorages scattered amongst the labyrinth of islands. People say the area is similar to the stellar Norwegian fiords, which must be magnificent as well.

We arrived just in time for Regatta Week, a week chock full of fun activities. Friday night, we raced on Stray Kitty’s catamaran. Saturday, we raced our own Kamaya to Tapana Bay for the Full Moon Party. This was the first time we had raced heavy Kamaya and it was exciting for a little bit. After winning the start, we were passed within minutes by the elegant Jenny, a 57-foot cold-molded classy custom yacht. We raised our spinnaker and stayed behind Jenny for a while. Sadly, we couldn’t outpoint or outsail the lighter Beneteau 50, J-42, and Hallberg-Rassy and finished fifth in our division.

We turned into pirates for the full moon party.

Back in Neiafu, the main town which has a Eugene, Oregon feel to it, Maya and Kai participated in a kid’s day and had a blast with Billy, an English bloke who, before settling in Neiafu, worked in the circus. He had boat kids and Tongan kids walking on stilts, juggling and practicing for the afternoon parade.

When the young girl's danced during kid's day, people placed money on their skin in appreciation.

For the closing ceremonies of the week, my sister Tammy joined us and won first prize for best costume; the appropriate award, 12 rolls of toilet paper. Tammy practiced sitting with her legs together, like a lady.

Maya and her girlfriends dressed up as the sarong sisters.

Since Regatta Week, we’ve explored many of the magnificent anchorages. Because palangis (that’s the term for foreigners) have difficulties pronouncing the names of the Tongan islands, we use the Mooring’s Charter Guide’s numbering system. So instead of asking, “Are you going to Tapana island?” one asks, “Are you going to Anchorage #11.” That’s the anchorage with the paella restaurant and the big goat.

Anchorage #16 has a huge banyon tree, perfect for climbing.

The fantastically diverse coral garden’s where the clown fish hide amidst the anemones are just behind Anchorage #16.

Anchorage #6 and #7 are near both Swallow’s and Mariner’s Caves. Swallow’s Cave is large enough to dinghy into, watch the bats flying around, marvel at the staligtites.

Anchorage #32 has a good stomp (a term I’ve adopted from our British friend’s Bamboozle) up to the tomb of the princess and a lookout.

This is also where Tim went out spearfishing with Stuart from Imagine and Paul from Calypso and they anchored too close to the reef and flipped the dinghy. Fortunately, they were able to flip the dinghy back over, gather all their equipment and flush the saltwater from the engine.

Indeed, had Cook sailed into this area, he would have been pleasantly surprised by this magnificent area.

And, of course, he would have liked all the pigs, especially this little piglet named Janice.

Tonga, the place where time begins!

2010-10-07T19:24:00.000-07:00

We were time travelers when we sailed 180 miles in 25 to 30 knot winds from Samoa to Tonga on September 12th, the same day as my grandmother’s 103rd birthday. Good thing Grandma Anita wasn’t with us as she would have missed her birthday because we crossed the International Dateline, and were launched into the future 24 hours (changing from GMT minus 11 to GMT plus 13).

Here in Tonga, we are in the place where time begins; we are the first people in the world to start the day. When we talk to people at home in the states, we’re often a day ahead and have to talk to the past. Pretty strange!

At first, I didn’t know much about Tonga, except that Captain Cook dubbed them “The Friendly Isles” and one of their kings was in the Guinneas Book of World Records for being the heaviest monarch. Weighing 444 pounds, King Taufa’ahau Toupou IV (King George for short), ordered his people to go on a diet. Since then, the King lost a mere 125 pounds, but was still big enough to be revered. Size is greatly admired in this society; religion and pigs are also important.

At Niuatoputapu, we found hundreds of pigs squealing through the streets, five different churches, tons of coconuts palms, gorgeous kids wanting their photographs taken and anything else that we had to offer and a community in the midst of recovery.

Last year’s hurricane on September 29th, 2009 in Samoa and September 30th in Tonga (remember we’re close to the Date line), had devastated the island, demolishing many of the wooden and straw homes. However, like the story in The Three Little Pigs, the concrete structures, including the Methodist Church, withstood the powerful tsunami.

Yet, despite this fact, the Red Cross and some other non-profit organizations sent the town kits to build hundreds of 10 x 20 foot wooden homes. Together with a few fellow sailors, Tim spent a day building a home for a very appreciative family. Even though the tsunami had happened one year ago, for many, it seemed like it was just yesterday.

Niu (in the Niuatoputapu) means “coconuts” in Tongan and it’s an appropriate name for the island because of all the coconuts. One could also call this island “pig island,” in honor of the big and little pigs rambling around, rooting in the mud flats, and burrowing underneath homes. I have never seen so many pigs in my life.

For pig population control, Sia, our welcoming local, invited us to her newly constructed wooden home for a pig roast. She also prepared Tongan fare, including baked sweet potato, taro with coconut milk, fresh fish and more. We ate extremely well.

Tim ventured one night to a Kava party, where he gathered with the men to sample the potent numbing pepper drink famous in this part of the world. He reported that the men played fantastic music, all of them singing together in multi-part harmony. I heard beautiful harmony while attending a church service where people wore the traditional ta’ovala, woven mats worn over their dresses and skirts.

Meanwhile, Maya, Kai and I rode horses bareback – but not on Sunday as it’s against the law to do anything strenuous on Sunday. Apparently, anything business related negotiated on a Sunday is null and void.

Take a look at cowboy Kai!

Here's Cowgirl Maya.

Maya and Kai also had fun building a fort with the other boat kids at the uninhabited island just behind our anchorage.

They gave decks of cards to the kids in town and taught them how to play the game, war.

On September 17th, wind conditions were predicted to be 10 to 15 knots for our next passage. We had finished sewing the metal ring onto the clew of our main (it blew out in our windy journey from Samoa), so it was time to leave. Next stop Vava’u Islands!

Maya's Reading List

2010-10-07T19:13:00.000-07:00

For this year, 2010, my goal was to read 50 books. I started January 1, 2010 and I’ve already surpassed my goal. I read 66 books since the beginning of the year. Below is my list. I’ve added a bit about the plot and my feelings about the book.

Thick Chapter books

1. The Alchemist, #1, the Secrets of the Immortal Nicholas Flamel, Michael Scott. A good story, but the kid I got it from told me what happened so I didn’t really like it.

2.The Tale of Despereux, Kate Dicamello. I love the way she writes. A young mouse with big ears rescues a princess.

3. Ender’s Game, Orson Scott Card. Takes place in the future. A boy is chosen to work in space for fighting aliens, fascinating, though there is a lot of swear words.

4. The Chronicles of Narnia, #4, Prince Caspian, C. S. Lewis. A fun read. (I read the previous three in other years and recommend them.)

5. The Chicken doesn’t Skate, Gordon Korman. A fast read. The funniest book I’ve ever read.

Thin books

1. The Invisible Dog, Dick King Smith. More of a younger kid’s book.

2. The Hundred Mile an hour Dog, Jeremy Strong. Silly and weird.

3. Kite fighters, Linda Sue Park. I thought it would be boring, but it’s actually good.

4. The Cat in the Hat, Dr. Seuss. Little kid’s book. Yes, I’ve read this many times, but I did read it again this year. A classic, and must read for everyone.

5. Chocolate Fever. One of those stories with a moral at the end, funny though.

6. Meet George Washington. Not so great. I read it to add to the list. Too simple.

7. The Power of UN-, Nancy Etchemendy. Very similar to back to the future.

8. Pippi Longstocking, Astrid Lindgren. Funny.

9. Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, Roald Dahl. A classic. Good and better than the movies.

10. Judy Moody, #1, was in a mood, not a good mood, a bad mood. ok book, espcially if you're just beginning to read chapter books.

Two book series

The Borrowers

1. The Borrowers, #1, The Borrowers, by Mary Norton. A bit boring, takes place underneath the floorboards of a house in England. Tiny people live there.

2. The Borrowers, #2, the borrowers afield, Mary Norton. I didn’t really like it, the main character wasn’t allowed to do anything slightly dangerous, and she didn’t seem to care.

Three book series

The City of Ember (there are at least two more books, but I don’t have them and that’s ok.)

1. The Ember series, #1, the City of Ember, Jeanne Duprauo. I didn’t really like it, about an underground city with 0 knowledge of technology. On the back it says, a science fiction for kids who don’t like science fiction. I like science fiction, so I wouldn’t recommend it.

Silverwing Trilogy(there are two more.)

1.Silverwing Trilogy, #2, Sunwing, Kenneth Oppel. Pretty good, a story about a bat who battles with a larger, cannibal bat.

Starcatcher series

1. Starcatcher Series, #1, Peter and the Starcatchers, Dave Barry and Ridley Pearson. About Peter Pan, the story behind how he met Captain Hook, why he can fly, etc. a great page turner. I highly recommend this series, so does my 70 year old friend, Evi!

2. Starcatcher Series, #2, Peter and the Shadow Thieves, Dave Barry and Ridley Pearson. A blob of shadow who can steal people’s souls, Peter must fight it.

3. Starcatcher Series, #3, Peter and the Secret of Rundoon, Dave Barry and Ridley Pearson. In the first one, Peter is bound on a ship to Rundoon, but the ship sinks. Now Peter Pan finds himself in Rundoon, capital of the Others.

Everest

1. Everest, #1, the contest, Gordon Korman. A thirteen year old and his older brother are given the chance to compete against other kids to see who has the skill to climb Mount Everest.

2. Everest, #2, the climb, Gordon Korman. First, the chosen teens must climb another mountain to see if they’re ready.

3. Everest, #3, the summit, Gordon Korman. Finally, they are ready to climb Everest. But everything goes wrong.

Dive

1. Dive, #1, Discovery, Gordon Korman. Four kids go on a dive tour but discover something strange about some of the people working there.

2. Dive, #2, the deep, Gordon Korman. Good.

3. Dive, #3, the danger, Gordon Korman. Great.

Horrid Henry

1. Horrid Henry and the Mummy’s curse, Francesca Simon. Horrid Henry is the naughtiest kid in the world.

2. Horrid Henry and the Bogey Babysitter, Francesca Simon. The crazy kid is back again.

3. Horrid Henry’s Revenge, Francesca Simon. Poor Peter.

The Serpent's Egg

1. The Serpents Egg, #1, The Serpents Egg, J. Fitzgerald Mcurdy. The first part is strange, but don’t let it trick you, the rest is amazing.

2. The Serpents Egg, #2, The Burning Crown, J. FitzGerald MCurdy. Extremely similar to J. R. R. Tolkien’s Lord of the rings, the best in this series.

3. The Serpents Egg, #3, The Twisted Blade, J. FitzGerald Mcurdy. Finally, the dead come into the story. Most of the things Miranda does I would have done differently. But a great book.

Four book series

The Once and Future King

1. The Once and Future King, #3. The ill made knight, T. H. White. I read the first two parts in 2009. Long and intense, but a classic.

2. The Once and Future King, #4, the candle in the wind, T. H. White. Interesting.
Fudge

1. Fudge, Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing, Judy Blume. I’ve read one Blume book before, and hated it. But this series is so funny.

2. Fudge, #2, Superfudge, Judy Blume. Another good book. Judy Blume seems to only like writing family stories.

3. Fudge, #3, Fudge –a – mania, Judy Blume. Silly.

4. Fudge, #4, Double Fudge, Judy Blume. Double silly.

Six Book or more series

Rangers Apprentice

1. Ranger’s Apprentice, #1, the Ruins of Gorlan, John Flanagan. An orphan boy is picked by a ranger to be his apprentice. The boy, Will, is trained in unseen movement, bow shooting, and knife throwing. Much of the unseen movement facts is true and I’ve used it. Amazing!

2. Ranger’s Apprentice, #2, The Burning Bridge, John Flanagan. Great!

3. Ranger’s Apprentice, #3, The Icebound Land, John Flanagan. Good as the first one.

4. Ranger’s Apprentice, #4, The Battle for Skandia, John Flanagan. Will gets captured by the Skandians. But then another tribe attacks, and Will helps battle them off.

5. Ranger’s Apprentice, #5, The Sorcerer of the North, John Flanagan.

6. Ranger’s Apprentice, #6, The Siege of Macindaw, John Flanagan.

7. Rangers Apprentice, #7, Eraks Ransom, John Flannagan.

8. Rangers Apprentice, #8, The Kings of Clonmel, John Flannagan.

The Last Apprentice (there are five others that I know of.)

1. Last Apprentice Series: #1, Revenge of the Witch, by Joseph Delany. All the book reviews claim it’s really scary, I didn’t think so. It takes place in old England, and the main character is apprenticed to the Spook, who gets rid of witches and Bogarts and ghosts. Really good.

The Baily School Kids

1. The Baily School Kids, Sea Serpents don’t Juggle Water Balloons. An extremely thin book, probably a book for learning to read.

On the Run

1. On the Run, #1, Chasing the Falconers, Gordon Korman. Crime story, two kids try to find evidence that their parents didn’t comit the crime they are being charged for.

2. On the Run, #2, The Fugitive Factor, Gordon Korman. Super.

3. On the Run, #3, Now you see them now you don’t, Gordon Korman. Amazing.

4. On the Run, #4, The Stowaway Solution, Gordon Korman. Excellent.

5. On the Run, #5, Public Enemies, Gordon Korman. Best ever.

6. On the Run, #6, Hunting the Hunter, Gordon Korman. The most exciting, but I don’t like the end part.

Goosebumps(there are tons more than just these.)

1. Goosebumps, Piano Lessons can be Murder, R. L. Stine. A kid moves into a new house with a haunted grand piano.

2. Goosebumps, You Can’t Scare Me, R. L. Stine. The other goosebumps is way better.

Alex Rider (there are more than just four, I just haven’t read them all.)

1. Alex Rider series, #1, Stormbreaker, Anthony Horowitz. A fourteen year old boy finds his dead uncle was a spy, and MI6 soon recruits him on his first mission. Don’t miss it.

2. Alex Rider series, #2, Point Blanc, Anthony Horowitz. MI6 forces Alex to go to France and check out a new academy that is acting strangely. Worth reading.

3. Alex Rider, #3, skeleton key, Anthony Horowitz. The Alex Riders seem to have a patern. Alex goes on a mission but then gets captured by the evil people, then saves the day. One of the best.

4. Alex Rider, #4, eagle strike, Anthony Horowitz. When Alex Rider goes off on his own, it should change everything. Instead, Smithers gives him a bike device and the plot stays the same. Exciting anyhow.

Comic Books

1. Calvin and Hobbes, The days are just packed, Bill Waterson. funny comic book. Calvin is Kai’s best friend. I think Kai thinks he really exists.

2. Snoopy, It was a Dark and Stormy Night, Charles M. Schultz. Funny comic book. What a silly dog! My friend’s Patrick and Thomas loved this one.

3. Snoopy, It’s a Dogs Life, Charles M. Schulz. Comic book.

That’s my list! I'm hoping to hear from all of you, especially whether you have any books to recommend for me.

Talofa

2010-09-22T15:18:00.000-07:00

That means “hello” in Samoan.

We weren’t planning on stopping in Samoa, but Stray Kitty, our friends on a catamaran like to connect the dots and see nearly every island, convinced us. “Upolu is supposed to be a traditional South Pacific Island and some say you haven’t visited the South Pacific until you see Samoa,” urged Captain Chris when we were together plotting our itinerary from the Cook Islands.

Many sailors en route from the Cook Islands to Tonga also stop in American Samoa to get parts mailed in and stock their galley with American junk food. We heard they didn’t have cliff bars or organic peanut butter and our friends on Pickles had graciously volunteered to pick us up a Shop Vac that runs on 110 volts (all the other islands down here use 220 volts) , so we decided to skip American Samoa with its $175 entry fee, go directly to Upolu and catch a 75 pound tuna en route. Maybe we'll go to American Samoa on our next journey across the Pacific.

When we entered Apia, the capital city, we made the obligatory call to the harbor master, who sent a boat out to escort us directly into the marina. Yachts are not allowed to anchor in the bay, a controversial rule that has deterred a number of boats. For us, a chance to hook to shore power, have access to plenty of fresh water and be on a dock where we can come and go as we please is a benefit. So on the early morning of September 2nd we secured Kamaya into the slip at the government marina and raised our yellow quarantine flag.

First seven officials wearing the lava lava skirt visited us having us fill out various forms. The health official allowed us to keep the foreign fruit and vegetables but made sure that we took it to the red building who supposedly took care of it.

When I asked the immigration man in charge of stamping our passports what the most important thing we needed to know about Samoa, he told us firmly, “Respect. Our lives are all about respect. We respect our elders and we respect each other.”

We learned about the center of respect, the large extended families with the matai (or chiefs) making important clan decisions. All seems much different from our individualized American culture.

We carefully crossed the busy city streets, learning to look right and then left or is it left and then right? since the Samoans now drive on the wrong side of the road. They switched just one year ago on September 7, 2009 and apparently there was chaos on the streets that day. For those of us who drive on the correct side of the road this, of course, is confusing.

Coming from costly French Polynesia, we were overjoyed by the low price of food and even indulged in numerous restaurants. The local market gave us a taste of Samoan food, my favorite being the palusami, baked taro leaves mixed with coconut cream. We also sampled Samoan food at the infamous Aggie Grey Hotel, famous for being a refuge for the American GIs in the 1930s.

Robert Louis Stevenson, the Scottish author of Treasure Island, Kidnapped, and Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, moved to Samoa because he hoped the tropical climate would be good for his tuberculosis. In 1890, he built a large estate up in the hills.

Unfortunately, he died four years later on December 3, 1894, but made a positive impact on the Samoans, who revered him and appreciated his strong voice against colonialism.

We did the “pilgrimage” to Stevenson’s grave at the top of Mt. Vaea. Here's his tombstone which in case you can't read it states:

1850 ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON 1894
Under the wide and starry sky dig the grave and let me lie. Glad did I live and gladly die and I laid me down with a will. This be the verse you gave for me here he lies where he longed to be. Home is the sailor home from the sea and the hunter home from the hill.

In the water, we swam at the reef and laughed at the territorial Picasso fish who attacked our legs and even the camera. Notice their yellow lips and bright colors.

Talking about bright colors, even the starfish were bright blue.

The Teuila (a type of maroon flower) Festival coincidentally was happening the same week of our visit with plenty of dancing, singing, longboat races and even wood carving competitions.

Before we left, we toured the traditional outrigger canoe and learned about their successes with celestial navigation. The Galufala will sail to New Zealand and then to Hawaii and perhaps even San Francisco, but they don’t sail well upwind so the journey will take almost one year. Unlike the outrigger we saw in French Polynesia, this one doesn’t take animals on board.

All-in-all our visit to Samoa was well worth the stop and showed us a glimpse of Samoa's traditional culture. Thank you Captain Chris for convincing us to connect one of the dots. Next stop Tonga.

Fire Dancing in Samoa

2010-09-12T02:24:00.000-07:00

Photos from Captain Carl Jensen, sv Naveren

How is Your Vacation?

2010-09-08T20:52:00.000-07:00

“How is your vacation?” Lisa, my sister-in-law asks me when we talk on skype. In our next conversation about one month later, she changes the question slightly, “How is your adventure?” We tell her stories about swimming with dolphins, manta and sting rays,

swinging on halyards,

catching enormous tuna and all the exciting things in our life.

She sometimes reads our blog, like you, but I know she doesn’t understand our life on the Pacific Ocean and imagines that we’re living a life of luxury, just like the folks on a Carnival Cruise ship. I think she might think we’re bums, escaping the world that many of our friends are living, the arduous world of working and juggling jobs while simultaneously raising kids.

I admit, our blog often shows the rosy picture, so I thought I’d address our life on board Kamaya, and share some of the daily grind of living on the ocean. I should tell Lisa about how I spent the morning cleaning the rust off of our stainless and doing laundry by hand and how Tim looks like a mechanic with black grease smudged all over his body from changing the oil on our engine and fixing our generator. Indeed, we spend lots of time working and maintaining Kamaya, as she, like most boats, is pretty demanding.

Of course passages can be intense and demanding, especially when the wind blows. Maybe I should tell Lisa how Tim and I wake up every three hours during the night to sail the boat. I’m not complaining, actually Kamaya sails super well and seems to know where she’s going, but we always need to trim the sails and keep an eagle eye for other boats and various obstacles at sea.

I should tell Lisa also about boat schooling. Maya and Kai don’t get to indulge in summer vacation because school on Kamaya is year round to make up for the days that we don’t have school, like when we’re on passage, when we have visitors or when we go coconut crab hunting or study tortoises and sea lions.

Tim teaches science, math and music. Maya plays the recorder and Kai plays the guitar.

I’m in charge of English, history, art and foreign language (Spanish, French and now Chinese). School takes anywhere from three to six hours depending on the motivation of the students.

Hunting and gathering also known as “provisioning” takes up some time. It feels like as soon as we arrive somewhere, I scout out the markets and fill our cupboards with food. When we’re at sea, we can’t jump off the boat and run to the grocery store so we need to continue to stock up. I really enjoy eating the local fare, like breadfruit and taro here in Western Samoa.

Our life is somewhat similar to those of you living on land – just like you, we sleep in the same bed at night. However, our bed moves and we can’t ignore the house chores as we need to keep our home in tip top shape. Indeed, it’s a privilege to be able live on the ocean and to be together as a family. I should tell Lisa that she should come visit us on her vacation.

Club Med at Suwarrow, Cook Islands

2010-09-03T21:19:00.000-07:00

It feels like we're moving quickly, comparatively. Last week we were anchored in Suwarrow, in the Cook Islands and this week we're in Apia, a small town in Western Samoa. But first, let me tell you about Suwarrow.

“Thank you for choosing Suwarrow as your holiday destination,” James says in jest as we prepare for our coconut crab feast.

James, a 200-plus pound Cook Islander with numerous tattoos scattered throughout his body, is one of two wardens living in this National Reserve. He and his assistant, Apii, are the only ones living on the island. Apii blesses our food and gives thanks to the powers above and then, in Cook Island tradition, first the kids eat, then the women and last, the men.

On the table is a mound of 17 cooked coconut crabs that we found in the forest at the other side of the Suwarrow atoll.

mmmm so delicious and sweet. "Leave some for us men," James comments as Kai, our not so adventurous eater, only takes a nibble of the crab leg.

Catching the crabs was not easy. Earlier in the day we ventured via dinghies about two miles to the other side of the atoll, where the terns, frigates and red-tailed tropic birds nest.

notice the long magnificent red tail on this tropic bird.

Here's one of the babies sitting in a not so fancy nest right on the ground.

Armed with sticks in hand, we searched under the coconut and pandanus trees, looking for visible signs of the coconut crab. The scenery was lush and the smell of the forest sweet and tangy, like citrus.

Look up and you can see the white terns courting on the branches.

Here's one of the smaller crabs climbing a coconut tree.

This one is too small for eating. We need to look under the tree and if we see a blue claw, we gently push the stick into the hole and ideally the crab would grasp the stick and then we’d pull it out and throw him into the large plastic Ikea bag. Maya and I teamed up with Frank and his family from the boat, Silver Lining. Frank, used to work as a fisherman in French Polynesia, so I knew he could catch crabs. We, well he, caught three big ones, but he also got stung by a wasp. As the saying goes, No pain no gain.

The only way to come to Suwarrow is via a sailing vessel. Tom Neale, a New Zealander lived here on and off for 25 years from 1952 until 1977 which seems like a long time to be alone on an island. He lived in the abandoned New Zealand military barracks, caught fish, grew vegetables and wrote a book detailing his time here, titled, An Island to Myself.

James, on the other hand, claims his book will be called, An Island to Share. And share he does. It feels like we’ve arrived at the Club Med for cruisers, with activities like sharkfeeding,

spear fishing, coconut crabbing, bonfires and potluck dinners. Healthy coral “bombers” and a small turtle live under Kamaya. The coral has purple, blue and yellow colors. Black tip reef sharks patrol the reef and moray eels lurk under the coral.

Humpback whales are beginning to enter the lagoon with their calves. You get the picture...it could be the Galapagos of the Pacific Islands.

During our week here, Maya and Kai had 10 other kids with them sharing the Robinson Crusoe island ...

playing capture the flag, flip the kayak, eating s’mores and even geocaching. Thanks to Whirlwind, a California couple, Suwarrow now has a hidden geocache, or treasure box that can be found with eagle eyes and a hand-held GPS. The cache is an appropriate addition to the activities on Suwarrow since rumor has it that in 1855, a treasure chest with $15,000 was found on the island. If you are ever in this part of the Pacific, a stop at Suwarrow is a definite must.

Here's a last photo of Maya showing James a bone from a bird she found on the island.

Here's another photo of Tim kiting catching some air in the crystal clear water. He's flying super high.

Swimming with Manta Rays

2010-09-03T21:12:00.001-07:00

Before we sailed to Suwarrow and before we left French Polynesia, we sailed half a day from Bora Bora to a smaller and less touristy island called Maupiti. Here, it’s possible to swim with manta rays, and there’s even a manta ray fish cleaning station, which I really wanted to see.

Fish cleaning, think going to the dentist, only it’s a pleasant experience, one that the manta rays go to almost daily. Our friends on Tyee were in Maupiti and they told us it was amazing. So I wanted to see for myself.

We jumped in the water early in the morning and I saw one huge ray swim under me. It was pretty cool to see a manta so close, and here’s how it looked.

Notice the rays huge mouth. Here's a close up.

Mantas are filter feeders, which means they sift seawater through their mouth and anything larger than the water molecule is caught. The manta ray mostly catches plankton. There are many species of mantas, and this one has well defined, white stripes going several directions. But the size of the ray itself must have been 8 to 10 feet, two meters!

The ray gradually passed under me, and disappeared.

When we talked about it with the other swimmers who were there, we heard that a few of them saw many more rays than we did. One swimmer said he saw five mantas. We only saw one. We had to have another go.

The next morning, the winds were light and we saw a ray off the bow of our boat, a good sign. We jumped in. Bendon, Mommy and I, all swam to the green buoy where the rays usually hang out. They were there for their dental work and there were lots of them.

We stopped at a coral head as we watched another ray glide in, then it stopped right above the coral and let little fish swim into it’s mouth. The fish clean the manta ray and get breakfast! I wonder how this friendship started.

Two more large rays swooped in and circled. Bendon, Steve and Ben from the catamaran Dignity were both good free divers, and can hold their breaths for a long time. I watched them sit at the bottom of the sea and look up as the rays swam over them.

What an amazing experience. I wish you were there.

The end.

Tilly's Perspective

2010-09-03T01:44:00.000-07:00

My Aunt Tilly who lives in Paris recently joined us on Kamaya. She met us in Tahiti and we sailed to Huahine, also in French Polynesia. She just sent me her impressions of life on Kamaya and I wanted to share it with you.

In 1960, I was completely responsible for myself as I ventured in Saigon.

In 2010, I was completely, obliviously relaxed on board Kamaya and in the hands of Captain Tim and his crew.

Filter: guess who? This is Ruth's aunt/ Oma's sister, Tilly Gaillard, giving you a snapshot of my visit.

Pancakes with peanut butter (heard)

“go to bed” (not heard)

The Amazing Maya:

From mature, responsible judgement getting to and looking out from mast top for treacherous coral heads...

to kayaking in the current at twilight to her friends on Victoria, another boat, carefully teaching other kids to unicycle then, together with brother Kai, to playing games, building a fortress, knitting and enjoying her stuffed animals.

The Kai-fly:

He's an acrobat and a precociously sharp game and bridge player, of whom the Oma must beware. He even knits!

The Yacht, Kamaya:

On deck: ship shape

Underneath: une joyeuse pagaille

Economy:

An excellent lesson on reducing waste, a high priority for everyone on every board.

Edible refuse is fed to fish et al., and everything else travels to bins on land in little bags Myra (the Oma) proudly acclaimed as “Garbage”, with an accentuated “Gar...” a sign of productive life! (Can’t find a song but Brazil produced a film called “the aesthetics of garbage”!)

Kitchen (called "the Galley" for the seafaring folk):

Intimidating stacking, impressive array

Ruth’s magic wand and dishes

The Kindle:

Although not a book book, what a fantastic tool!

Filled with literally thousands of wonderful books than the boat’s eight eyes can consume.

“My turn ...” “Want to finish my page ...”

The barbecue:

What a surprise! Kamaya and her endless resources.

Adaptation:

Knowing how long to hold the “flush” button for the aft head (that's ship lingo for toilette.)

Luxury:

Two heavenly hot fresh water showers (one from the sun heat and the other “system heat”) ... i now treasure my hot water showers at home.

Vocabulary (besides all this boat terminology):

A gimbaled stove

“a contrivance, typically consisting of rings pivoted at right angles, for keeping an instrument such as a compass or chronometer (or stove) horizontal in a moving vessel.” Without such an invention, it would be extremely difficult to cook at sea. Your crepes would flying with every wave.

Buttons:

Yes, we have no buttons (for Al, Maya's precious stuffed bear’s vest,) neither on board, nor on the shore (a beach). Gee! I'll have to improvise, something which seems to happen all the time on board.

Harnesses:

Propeller leg movement, especially Kai (looks like he’s whipping cream) and Maya’s push offs make for a boat-flank acrobatic show, and hours (yes, hours) of delight for the tireless two.

A boat community, a new world:

Unrivalled and unexpected. Amazing 2 to 5 years and more fulfilling dreams, whole families with “boat schooling”. What an accumulation of wealth, health and learning I never had dreamed could exist.

Fish and coral:

Thank you for being au rendez-vous, in full attire. Your colors and beauty are stamped in my mind.

Odd French connection:

Discovered a possible husband for someone, a four-toothed beach custodian living in Huahine with 2000 euros pension (in French-UN peace-keeping parachute squad in Iraq 1985-1997), 1400 euro monthly salary on an island with nothing to buy, in search of a wife. He claims he has three houses and will stop accumulating when he has five (he says). Fortunately, Oma and I are taken. He likes older women.

French Polynesia (118 islands, 48 populated? pop 300,000):

with French roads, traffic signals, education and medicine, even a Carrefour (grocery store) in Papeete and how easy it was for me to enter the country on a French ID card. Don’t mind some of my tax money going there, ... if I can go there again too ...

Gastronomy:

Vive le poisson cru mariné au citron et noix de coco

To be on Kamaya with its resident quartet and the Oma-mom-sister was bliss composed of pleasure, warmth, all varieties of people, tropical landscape, multi-hued water and boundless good humor and affection.

Much love,

Tilly

Passage from Maupiti to Suwarrow

2010-08-27T14:37:00.000-07:00

We were thinking about leaving Maupiti on Saturday, August 14th but decided not to after we spoke to Dignity and Sea Mist. Maupiti is a volcanic island in French Polynesia surrounded by a barrier reef with only one navigable pass into its lagoon. On Saturday, the south swell was big, yet both boats, one a Lagoon catamaran and the other a 56 foot Oyster, were determined to leave despite the swell and despite warnings in numerous sailing guidebooks.

Charlie's Charts states:

"Passe Onoiau has a poor reputation because in rough conditions it is hazardous to enter and numerous vessels have come to grief here. Not only is it winding and narrow, but a strong outgoing current also adds to the difficulties in negotiating the channel. With a southerly swell large amounts of water come over the low and poorly defined reef on the southwest side. This water flows out of the pass, resulting in very strong ebb currents and heavy breakers across the entrance; some vessels have been trapped within the lagoon for up to two weeks!"

Shortly after 8:00 am, Dignity reports to us via the VHF radio that they made it through the pass. Helen tells us that she was scared, her husband thought it challenging and her son loved the ride. Shortly thereafter, Jon, the skipper of the 25-plus ton monohull, Sea Mist, says he felt they were a whale plowing through the waves which broke over the bow and into the cockpit.

So we decided to wait a few days for the swell to dissipate. We weren't in a huge hurry except that our three month visa had expired and we had a big box of books to deliver to our friends on Stray Kitty who were waiting for us in Suwarrow, a nature reserve in the Cook Islands just 660 miles away. Besides Maupiti with its warm water, sandy beaches, fresh baguettes and, my favorite, a manta ray fish cleaning station, just a stone's throw away from our boat (Maya will be updating you about our swim with the gentle giants) is a fantastic place to call home.

By Tuesday, the swell had decreased and the winds were predicted to be favorable for the next few days. It was time to hoist our anchor and head out the pass. My heart pounds as we motor towards the break in the waves. Three other boats in the anchorage took their dinghies out to watch us leave.

"Don't give us an exciting show," shouts Jon on Tyee as he waves goodbye.

I see the white foam frothing from the current and the huge breaking waves on either side of the pass, but I can also see the navigable middle.

"It doesn't look that bad," Tim says with hesitancy.

"Stay to port, the water looks smoother over there," I suggest.

The outflowing current takes us fast. We bounce up with the swell and move side-to-side. Minutes after passing the most treacherous part where the breaking waves and the shallow reef are on either side of us, our boat slows down. The current immediately loses its strength and we are now safely out the pass.

"That was a bit anti-climatic," Tim says.

"It was easy," Maya adds with a bit of disappointment.

"That's how it should be," I say smiling.

Less than five miles west from the pass, our fishing line zippppppppps. Tim grabs the fishing pole from its holder; Kai and I furl the jib to slow the boat down, and Maya climbs up on the dinghy davits to spot the fish. Then, I head the boat up and slow her down even more, so that Tim can reel us in a gorgeous green and silver Mahi Mahi, our first catch in almost one month.

As Maupiti disappears in the horizon and nothing but ocean blue surrounds us, I feel excited about moving on, yet sad to leave French Polynesia with its tropical waters, fragrant flowers, fantastic hikes, and delicious French cheeses and baguettes. But what I think I'll really miss, are the kind people we met there. Many of the Polynesians we encountered didn't seem absorbed in the pursuit of things, and were incredibly hospitable and happy to "give from the heart." I think about Lola, a woman we briefly met on the docks in Papeete and she very kindly drove my father to the airport. Then there was the family in Tahiti-iti who gave us fish, and the man in Daniel's Bay who filled our bags with pamplemousses, bananas and limes. They all generously gave without wanting anything in return. I aspire to be that way.

The half moon lights the sky and the pleasant 15 knot southeast breeze keeps us moving at a pace of about 7 knots. It takes me a few days as always to tolerate the lack of sleep on a passage. I have the 10 to 1 am and the 4 to 7 am shift and we have already established our important passage routine: first movie night, then baking day, followed by chocolate day. This rotation makes all four of us look forward to the following day. I'm too tired to watch the movie, episodes of Gilligan's Island - anyone remember that? Kai will sing you the opening song if you'd like.

Our second day, we check in via the SSB radio with the Polynesian Breakfast Net at 8:30 in the morning. We speak with our friends on Victoria who are sailing straight from Bora Bora to Tonga. This morning they're 50 miles from Palmerston, but are not going to stop. There are a number of boats sailing in this area, though as usual, it feels like we're the only ones out here. It's baking day and Kai and Maya make oatmeal cookies. To conserve on propane which we use to heat the oven, we spread the batter over the entire baking sheet and then cut the cookies up afterwards.The pleasant winds continue our third day. We've all been reading a lot during the day. I'm still reading Moby Dick to Maya and on my own, I'm reading Great Expectations and Mr. Pip simultaneously. At night, during my shift, I listen to the audiobook of The Girl with the Dragon Tatoo. It's riveting though pretty disturbing.

This third day is chocolate day so I serve the kids hot chocolate and for dessert, we dip bananas in melted chocolate. We even eat a gourmet Mahi Mahi dinner with a special chocolate (no just kidding) orange sauce. Sometimes we do school during passages, but this time, we decided not to. Today the kids created a new game with our Raymarine chart plotter. They pick a place in the world and travel there in various boats, often choosing the fast Gunboat that we visited in Papeete. "I'm exploring China," Maya says as she zooms in and out of Asia on the screen. It's a perfect example of learning without knowing it - Maya and Kai's geography is pretty good these days.

At 7 am on the fourth day, I wake Tim up in the morning. There are dark grey clouds surrounding us and they're about to burst, but it's his turn to take over. He sails us through the rainy squall, while I get my morning nap. In the late afternoon, we watch the epic movie, Australia, and enjoy being mentally taken away to the 1930s with the cowboys and cattle.We arrive in Suwarrow on the fifth day after a wonderful spinnaker sail. James, one of the wardens in the island, told us that it takes work to get here, but once here, we've earned its beauty. It really is a fantastic place. but I'll save that for my next blog entry.

Cooking on Kamaya

2010-08-16T12:48:00.000-07:00

by Oma

Latkes, for the uninitiated, are grated potato pancakes usually eaten with applesauce in December for Chanuka with the lighting of Menorah candles to celebrate freedom - and with the freedom of being on Kamaya, one can cook anything at any time - so this Oma (Ruth's mother) will explain - cooking Kamaya-style.

Kamaya has a four burner stove, a little oven, a big frig with an opening on the top and a door opening (gently, please) on the bottom. Pans are stored in a bin, together with everything else that can fit, and all around are cupboards well stocked with all the necessities of a proper kitchen. Ruth knows where everything is - and Tim, Maya and Kai are also well informed - especially the location of the peanut butter, jam (bottom frig), cream cheese (top frig) and chocolate (bottom shelf of small cupboard). Cooking is a lengthy pleasure.

Breakfast is often crepes (2 cups milk,(bottom frig) 2 cups flour,(in bin behind on top of pots and pans) bit of water (faucet), butter (top frig) 2 eggs (on top of frig - fresh eggs do not need refrigeration) and a pinch of Tahitian vanilla (port pantry, second shelf). Whip this all together the night before and put it in bottom frig - next morning find frying pan, light the stove (turn on gas with red switch above pots and pans and light gas with gas lighter holding down turn-on knob for 3 seconds). Adjust burner carefully. Kai's crepes are eaten with peanut butter and jam; Maya's crepes need cream cheese and jam; Tim's crepes are eaten with everything except peanut butter and Ruth eats whatever is left.

This detail is for anyone who may think that cooking on a boat is simple.

When there is left-over baguette, we make French toast also called eggy bread for those of you from England. Slice the old bread and dip it in beaten eggs combined with milk and cinnamon. Fry the bread in butter - and serve with peanut butter and jam for Kai, cream cheese and jam for Maya.

English Muffins are a special treat - and Tim's specialty. Kamaya has a special sourdough starter which gets replenished (fed with half water, half flour) when it is used. Mix flour, milk, water and sourdough starter and let it stand overnight to rise. Knead well - add more flour, sugar and baking soda in the morning - put in warm place to rise. (This is easy in the tropics) Divine aroma permeates Kamaya. Breakfast is delayed while anticipation grows. Knead again and make into patties. Light the stove (see above) and bake on the cast iron frying pan. Remember to take out the butter, peanut butter and cream cheese and jam - turn the muffins which have now risen nicely and enjoy.

There is always the packaged granola with milk or yogurt and fruit for the super-hungry who cannot wait, but Kai has a slight disagreement with the granola as it has coconut mixed in.

But---when the pantry is almost empty and only a few potatoes are left - make latkes. "No problem," says Ruth, "it's very quick." Out come the potato peeler and the tiny square grater- so we peel and we grate and we peel and we grate and, of course, we chat and sing. About half an hour later, with a pile of grated potatoes, now turning slightly pink, we put them in a bowl, add an egg, flour and some liquid and beat and beat until the potatoes are sort of solid and fry them. Delicious with, of course, peanut butter or cream cheese and jam. Latkes in Tahiti in July for breakfast.

Breakfast is only one of the wonderful meals that come out of the Kamaya Kitchen - and eating is only one of the grand times this Oma had in July with the Kamaya kids. Life aboard Kamaya is total, full and delicious.

Halyard Swinging

2010-08-14T22:02:00.000-07:00

It all began when we met the four kids on Pickles who were swinging off the side of their boat. They were hooked to spinnaker and jib halyards, and they wore a climbing harness around their waist. Soon Kai and I were swinging too!

Pickles got us hooked on it (Uncle Ethan no pun intended!). And luckily my Aunt Tilly came to visit us this month and she brought us four harnesses, two for us, and two for our friends, Patrick and Thomas on Victoria, who Pickles also introduced to swinging. Thank you Tilly!

The basic idea is that the line, technically called a halyard, runs to the top of the mast, allowing you to swing from bow to stern. It is possible to swing all the way to the other side of the boat, and swing with another person. We use spinnaker halyards, to make long runs.

The harness itself is a normal climbing harness, with two leg holes and another strap for the waist. There are holds on the side to clip things to and a sturdy sort of fabric where the halyard clips.

The possibilities for swinging are endless. Sometimes I go upside down, sometimes I swing over the bow, and sometimes I leap from side to side. Kai and I are making up various moves all the time. While swinging, I feel weightless, maybe like the astronauts do in outer space. For some reason I can always tell where to push to aim the right direction. In a sense, I’ve become a pendulum!

Often I warm up with a flip, then go for a push off the stanchion closest to the stern which Kai and I have named, “Baby.” From there I go to a spot where I can push off the winch and lifelines, called “Windows.” Then we jump from a bar on the dodger. And finally we go off the davits. From the davits it’s possible to go over the bow. That is by far the most exciting.

Halyard swinging is a lot of fun. It’s not only fun, it’s my new sport!

Happy Birthday Tim!

2010-08-05T16:22:00.000-07:00

Nifty Fifty
August 4th, Captain, husband, father Tim turned half a century young. Our fifty year old man started the morning with 50 push ups, 50 sit ups and a 50 minute kayak in Bora Bora's scenic blue lagoon. After a short nap, the birthday boy did a back flip from the stern of Kamaya and tried Maya and Kai's newest sport of swinging in harnesses from the halyards. At sunset, he gathered at the beach for a bonfire with our friends from Victoria, Wonderland and Bamboozle. We then returned to the boat for a delicious dinner and the best chocolate cake ever. A beautiful way to usher in the next half of his century.

Here's a birthday poem I wrote for my birthday boy.

There lives a dashing man named Tim
who keeps his sails perfectly trim
Born in West Berlin
where the German's didn't win
and there was a wall
that was really tall
The son of a spy
shhhh say that, you'll die
His mother a nurse,
who never does curse
Tim has a wonderful life
Even a beautiful wife
A daughter and son
That are tons of fun
They're sailing a big boat
that really does float
Today we'll scream and shout
and run all about
Today is Tim's day
So I'll say
You're so nifty
Now that you're fifty

Upoo Tahiti Sets Sail

2010-07-24T23:53:00.000-07:00

On July 20, we watched the people in Huahine bless the repaired rudder of the traditional 15 meter outrigger canoe docked in the town of Fare. This special catamaran called Upoo Tahiti, which means “Head of Tahiti,” has a piglet, rooster and plenty of bananas and taro on board. She is one of many outrigger canoes sailing west across the Pacific to China. Captain and designer, Clement Pito, has been imagining this voyage for the past 20 years and his dream had finally come to fruition.

Pito, bare breasted with two bands of tatoos on his right arms and wearing a traditional skirt, hopes his sailing expedition will bring Polynesians closer to their ancestors who bravely left their homes in Asia and sailed east to settle in the Pacific islands. In the traditional fashion, Pito’s crew will navigate by the stars. They have an outboard Yamaha motor just in case, but they don’t plan on using it much.

Unfortunately, last week when Upoo Tahiti sailed 90 miles from Papeete to Huahine, the strong seas damaged the boat’s rudder and delayed their departure in Huahine. Five days later with lots of help from the locals, they repaired the boat and set sail again.

Before they untied their dock lines, the town gathered to give them a serious send off and to bless their repaired centerboard and rudder.

Exquisite dancers came to the dock, wiggling their hips in a sensuous manner all in sync with the musicians, who pounded their drums and strummed the ukuleles. Politicians, sailors and others showered the Upoo Tahiti crew with gifts and blessings, to make sure that the seas would treat them kindly and that their bellies would be filled with local food.

The numerous tikis (spiritual wooden statues) on board also served as guardians. My favorite was the fishing tiki who undoubtedly helps bring in the fish. The port side tiki on the bow was equally intriguing.

The ceremony was fantastic and made me a tid-bit envious of the send-off. The town of Sausalito didn’t gather on the docks and serenade us when we left more 22 months ago. They’ll have to study the Tahitian way.

After Eclipse

2010-07-17T14:45:00.000-07:00

So….after we saw the diamond ring effect and thanked Tim for his insistence that we leave beautiful Moorea and sail a mere 40 miles upwind in 20 to 25 knot winds to experience a total solar eclipse, and not just “a wish sandwich” where according to Tim you only have two slices of bread and wish for some cheese and salami to put in the middle. In our case, viewing the eclipse gave us a huge club sandwich, made of first grade bacon, smoked ham, succulent roast beef, slices of hot house tomatoes and a few organic lettuce leaves. In fact, the event was so memorable that we have now decided to revise our view of time. From now on, instead of 2010 AD our frame of reference is AE, after eclipse.

Three minutes AE, we turned Kamaya about face and sailed 40 miles towards Tahiti-iti. Tahiti and Moorea are known as the Windward Islands. Tahiti is a figure eight shaped island, surrounded by a barrier reef and comprised of the larger Tahiti Nui and the smaller Tahiti-iti. The lobes connect in the town of Phaeton. Most sailors overlook the less populated Tahiti-iti but the area is definitely worth exploring.

Entering anchorages means sailing through passes in the reef and into the protected lagoon. Our first land fall, Teahupoo, located at the end of the paved highway, meant navigating through Havae Pass, where the 10-foot tubular waves just south of the pass are home to the famous international surf contest. The waves are enormous and you’ve got to be really crazy or an expert surfer to ride them . Tim paddled the kayak out to the wave and watched one surfer split his board in half.

Alexis, the owner of the Billabong bungalows on shore told me that he takes reservations one year in advance, another reason to see French Polynesia by boat. We indulged in poisson cru (the typical Tahitian ceviche made with raw fish and coconut milk) served by the only restaurant in town and relished being the sole sailboat in the anchorage.

Next stop, 2 days AE, was through Temarauri Pass into the protected lagoon adjacent to the Gauguin museum and the Botanical Gardens, home to two dome-shaped Galapagos tortoises. Here, we planned on staying only one night, but in true cruising fashion stayed three nights, enjoying our days hiking in the lush Jardin Vaipahi, kayaking the river and celebrating the 14th of July with Jamie and Lucy from the boat Bamboozle. They were the only other boat in the anchorage.

We met a Tahitian family on shore and asked them what kind of bait they use for fishing. They suggested everything from chicken to hermit crabs and just as we were leaving, they handed us BBQ tuna and tasty unicorn fish – just in case we weren’t successful with our fishing. Throughout our journey in French Polynesia, we’ve been amazed at the hospitality and friendliness of the people.

Now, 6 days AE, we’re back in Marina Taina just south of Papeete. Our journey south of Tahiti for the solar eclipse and into the tranquil anchorages in Tahiti-iti gave us an appreciation of Tahiti, and an understanding of why Gauguin and the other famous folks like Herman Melville, Robert Louis Stevenson and Jack London enjoyed their time here. Next stop Huahine.

Total Solar Eclipse

2010-07-12T17:18:00.001-07:00

“You’re doing what?” asked Chris of Stray Kitty, a catamaran cruising with three kids while we were together in the Galapagos talking about our navigation plan. “Sailing out of your way, just to view an eclipse?”

“So the sky gets dark and stars come out during an eclipse, that happens every night, what’s the big deal?” piped in Joanie of Pickles, sailing with 4 kids.

“Make sure not to blink,” advises Guy from Pickles.

“I’ve seen one and thought it was no big deal.” adds Ruth. I thought I’d get a little more support on this plan from my own wife, but she agreed to go along with it, saying sailing 60 miles out of our way would be my birthday present.

Solar eclipses occur nearly every year or two, but they’re not always total, meaning the sun gets entirely blocked from view by the moon and you can only see this natural wonder from a strip about 100 miles wide. This one happens to be passing across the South Pacific a mere 30 miles south of Tahiti and directly over some of the Tuamotus and Easter Island.

From the moment I heard about this eclipse, nearly one year ago, I’ve been planning our sailing itinerary around being in the right place to view the eclipse. I considered Easter Island, but July is not the right month to be sailing there. I considered Hao, an atoll in the Tuamotus, but it was more than one hundred miles out of our way. So we chose to see the eclipse by sailing south of Tahiti in the middle of the night. We needed to leave by 1 am or 2 am, to make it in time by 8:30 am when totality begins.

The trouble was we had already sailed downwind of Tahiti to Moorea and this meant that we had to sail back upwind to Tahiti the day before, July 10th. We began our eclipse journey with 25 knots of wind gusting to 30, typical San Francisco Bay sailing, so Ruth’s Dad, Poppa Nate, was right at home. Our first 15 mile leg to Tahiti, was not turning into a pleasant sail. The seas were big and slowed us down quite a bit as they crashed over our bow.

When we finally got back to Tahiti, we considered the prospect of doing this again at 2 am, but trying to cover 30 miles this time.

“Maybe we can find a big cruise ship heading out to view the eclipse,” suggests Ruth, voicing some of my own doubts about putting the family through this ordeal.

I recall Kim from Victoria echoing most cruisers view, “We’ll just watch it from Tahiti and see 94% of the eclipse, we’ll miss the 2-3 minutes of totality, so what”

I wanted to tell her that she was going to miss everything. Those few minutes of totality are the best part of the eclipse. To me, she was opting to eat a wish sandwich…two slices of bread and you wish you had something to put between it. She was opting for a cone without ice cream, a swimming pool without water, or a bird without wings.

I’ve never seen a total eclipse and I know I’ll never forgive myself if we’re this close and don’t make the extra effort. The kids are keen and supportive and Myra and Nate are still eager despite a little mal de mer.

I found a slot in the reef where we could anchor for the evening and be protected from the rough seas. We leave a bit early at 11 pm after just a few hours sleep. Ruth’s up because she’s nervous about where we’re anchored, and I’m awake because I’m anticipating the big event.

This night the weather gods seem to be smiling on us and we’re sailing along with a very comfortable 15 knots of wind right on course for the eclipse zone. The night is clear, the stars are shining brightly and we even see many shooting stars. It’s a magical night of sailing. We take turns getting a bit of sleep and arrive at the eclipse zone about first light.

Unfortunately with first light comes a few scattered clouds. I think of the story told by Guy of Pickles and the French team who wanted to record the transit of Venus from India in 1769 just like Captain Cook did from Tahiti. They met delays in sailing to India and arrived too late. But they knew another transit would occur 7 years later and just decided to prepare and wait. Seven years later under cloudy skies they still had no view of the transit and upon returning to France in disgrace their families had given them up for lost, even taking other spouses.

At 7:26 am Maya tries on her special solar eclipse goggles that I ordered almost one year ago and says, “A little bite has been taken out of the sun.”

“Are you sure it’s not a cloud?” I ask.

“No, it’s a bite and it’s getting bigger,” she says.

“Wake everyone up!” I shout as I see the same bite through our special viewing glasses.

Soon we’re all out on deck watching the bite grow bigger and bigger over the next hour. The sun gets dimmer and dimmer and smaller and smaller. People viewing the eclipse from Tahiti also see this natural phenomenon. But it’s the next part that is supposed to be even more interesting.

The clouds come and go. I’m worried that they will cover the sun during our precious two minutes of totality? Will we be able to see anything? The crescent of visible sun gets smaller and smaller. About 8:30, the clouds move out as if swept aside by some mystic hand just in time as the sun is blocked completely by the moon.

“I can’t see anything with my glasses” says Maya.

“This is memorable,” says Poppa Nate.

We remove our glasses and witness the fabulous diamond ring effect. There’s a jet black circle in the sky where the sun used to be. This circle is surrounded by a spectacular ring of fire, with one very bright spot where the last glimpse of sun is peeking through. It looks like a flaming diamond ring in the sky. This beautiful ring is temporary. We catch a fleeting glimpse as the sky goes dark. All that’s left is the black circle of the moon with its ring of fire. It’s not quite like night time as there’s still some blue in the sky, but we’re able to see several stars and planets, including Jupiter and Alpha and Beta Centauri near the Southern Cross. The sun has become a black circle with an awesome ring around it. Sunspots shoot jets of fire out the side of the moon. It’s a magnificent sight. Even Ruth is glad that we made it all this way.

This too is quite temporary. We look at the moon shaded sun and sky for a couple of minutes watching solar flares flash brilliantly out from the moon. Then we get another diamond, this time on the other side of the moon as the sun peeks its bright face out again. The whole thing happens again in reverse. With the first splash of bright light we put on our glasses and watch the crescent sun slowly grow back over the next hour into its full warm usual self.

We set sail back for Tahiti-iti while watching the sun grow and all of us are inspired by the alignment of the sun and the moon and the earth.

puppies

2010-07-12T17:09:00.000-07:00

“There’s puppies onshore, they’re really cute.” Mommy said as soon as she got back from exploring Toau.

“Puppies!” Kai and I thought, and we cleaned up our stuffed animals with soap and water.

Soon we were ready to go ashore. As we came into the dinghy dock, a small poodle like dog came over and kissed us. Later we learned that her name is Motu, and she has a twin sister called Lulu. But neither of them are the mother.

We walked along the beach and heard a big dog barking. Sure enough a huge golden retriever was sitting down and barking fiercely, but he gave the whole act away with wagging his tail and walking up to us in a friendly manner. The big guard dog / sweetheart is named Bobby. I scratched him behind the ears and he let his head rest.
Then Kai and I found a cardboard box with five little puppies all curled up. They were adorable! There were two girls and three boys. The five didn’t want to go past their little shelter. There was a coconut shaving machine and a seat. The shelter was all under a roof, and the puppies definitely didn’t want to go past it.

But the puppies themselves; the littlest, a girl, had a dark brown face, and slightly lighter body. The second smallest, the other girl, had a dirty blonde, brown fur. On her head was a small white vertical stripe on her forehead. The smallest of the boys, was a puppy colored like a mountain lion pup with smooth fur. He had a very distinct white mark on his head. the second largest, had the strangest coloring. He was gold, dirty blond, yellow – ish brown, all the colors swirling around his body, they were not blended with each other. Then, the largest, was a black puppy with a cute black face and curly hair.

We played with them for a while, before going back to the dinghy dock. Kai and I talked to the owner of the puppies, Valentine, and she said we should make up names for the puppies. I wonder what we should call them?

The next day our friends on Tyee arrived. They have two boys, one ten, and the other seven. The boys came ashore with us to visit the puppies. Together we decided what to name the little ones. The small brown one we called Coco. Then my mom thought the second biggest one with the swirl of colors should be called Moca, like the coffee. After that we agreed about the largest one, Chewy. Later we named the mountain lion one Puma, and Kai and I felt so lucky because we have a stuffed animal named Puma. Last of all we named the remaining girl Luna.

Turns out Moca is the most adventurous, and he’s also obedient. We started by teaching all of them their name. then we took them exploring. We call their name and say “Moca, moca, come here boy, lets go, come on!”

And we walk backwards facing them and talking excitedly. By the end of the day everyone had learned their name.

The day after that Simi and I came in. we walked over and heard the barking of the big golden retriever, Bobby. Then a strange thing happened, and I heard him whimper. “come here big boy.” I said.

He gratefully padded over and leaned against me, still whining. I decided he was scared of the black dog, Tiger. I hugged his big head in my arms, and told him it was all right, I understand. The poor dog must have been terrified, and desperate to make friends, because he slid down onto my lap, and cuddled. I comforted him, and soon he seemed to feel better. He got up, and stood in front of Simi and I, as if saying, “don’t worry, I will protect you.”

I trusted him. So I set his head back in my lap. Bobby leaned against me but continued sitting.

Then he put his front paw out and into my hand. We shook hands. This is a very intelligent dog, I thought.

Simi was almost crying. He had a golden retriever like this one before he started the boat trip. The dog and him would play games together, and when their dad was baking pop corn, the two of them had grabbed the fallen pieces and ate them. That dog was like another sibling to Simi. But a few months ago, he died.

Poor Simi, I thought. Then I released Bobby’s hand. I hugged the big dog, and we continued walking towards the puppy litter.

Moca was in a really excited mood. He jumped around, pouncing on his big brother Chewy. I called his name, “Moca, Moca, come here Moca.”

And the gold puppy pounced after me. He ran at my shoes, but I jogged faster and he followed me. I ran around the house and the puppy raced along with me. We came back to the other puppies, and Moca jumped excitedly. So I took him on another track, and we went towards the grass. Soon Moca got tired and I carried him back.

I called Chewy and Puma and brought them to the little bush so they could play. I left them there and brought Coco and Luna to the bush. Moca followed them. I watched the five little puppies make themselves at home in the tree. A few ripped at the leaves, and other puppies tumbled around.

Today they had gained double their previous territory. I knew they could find their way back to the sheltered area. And I watched as Puma and Moca jumped along and walked back. The others slowly followed, and came to their little shelter.

A man came up and shredded coconuts. He gave some shavings to the puppies, and their mother, Ruby. They certainly were growing. Ruby, who had been quite skinny when we first met her, had gotten slightly larger. The puppies were bigger too.

But Simi and I had to say goodbye for the day. We walked back, and I said hi to my friend Bobby.

The next day, Kai, Theo, and Simi, and I, all came ashore. We walked over to the Puppy place to find that Luna was the energetic one today. I brought her to the bush, and she ran after me. But that little girl didn’t want to stop there, so I brought her around the house. There was a little ditch on the other side of the house, and Luna stopped there. I told her, “come here, come on girl, you can do it Luna, come on.”

She slid down the five inch gutter, and tried to get up the other side, but she couldn’t. So Luna turned around, and climbed up the way she came. I patted on the ground around the ditch. And Luna walked along it. She made it across.

I ran with her the rest of the way, and congratulated the puppy. She, the second smallest, had done what only Moca could.

“She’s just like her brother.” Simi said. I agreed.

Then we took Moca on a little exploring mission, as Kai and Theo played with the other puppies. Moca walked all the way to the grassy place, and almost to the beach. Then he whimpered and I carried him back.

But finally the time came for Kamaya to leave. I hugged each of the puppies in turn, and promised them that I’ll come back some day. I know they’ll continue to explore, and they will all be big, sweet dogs.

Then I said bye to Ruby, and told her to keep a good eye on her pups. She’s a good mother, and she knows it.

Next we all found Bobby, who was at the end of the dock. I told him that he would win against Tiger, the black dog, and that he’s the nicest dog. I hugged him to me.
Then we left the island of dogs, which I really will revisit someday.

Feasting in Toau

2010-07-03T07:12:00.000-07:00

Charles Darwin is not only known for his work in the Galapagos and evolution, but also for being the first to classify tropical reefs into three distinct types: fringing reefs, barriers reefs and atolls. A fringing reef, like the reefs in the Marquesas where we just came from, contains a coral reef connected to the shore. Eventually the reef breaks free and turns into a barrier reef that surrounds the land, the most famous being the Great Barrier Reef in Australia. Then when the land erodes completely and disappears, leaving only the coral reef surrounding a blue lagoon, you get an atoll. The Tuomoto Archipelago contains 76 atolls and we've been exploring a few of them during the month of June.

A first glance at life at an atoll makes one wonder how people can survive amongst the coral and the coconut trees, especially compared to the lush Marquesas where fruit ferments on the fertile ground, but a glimpse of Gaston and Valentine’s life here in Anse Amyot, in the northwest corner of Toau, shows that they have plenty to eat.

Gaston and Valentine’s family installed 13 moorings outside their home for boats that enter their false pass, false since the area is a cul-de-sac where one cannot sail all the way into the lagoon because there’s a coral barrier blocking further entrance. Yet just inside the cove, the water is flat and protected from the rolling rough seas of the Pacific.

We arrived at Anse Amyot on winter solstice, June 21, the shortest day of the year. Our entry was more dramatic than I like as it took us longer to sail 40 miles here from the neighboring atoll, Fakarava, which meant that we were arriving at sunset (5:26 pm), a time when it’s difficult to spot coral heads plus to further complicate matters, a rainy squall struck us us at the entrance, hindering our visibility. So we relied on the range beacons placed at most of the passes of the atolls, our Raymarine charts and the GPS coordinates for anchoring (all the moorings were taken) given to us by Soggy Paws, a boat that called Toau home for the month. Though a dramatic entry, we were happy to be here and excited to see a less inhabited atoll.

The strong Maramu (that’s the Tahitian term for southern tradewinds) winds continued the following day with gusts up to 46 knots. In the late evening, one of the boats, Pursuit, snapped her mooring line and ended up on the reef in just 30 seconds. Fortunately, they were rescued quickly and suffered only minor damage, a broken blade on their propeller. Tim helped them out, lending them our spare propeller.

Since then, the winds have calmed down and we’ve enjoyed the crystal clear water where we’ve seen the gorgeous but dangerous lionfish hiding in the coral caves and watched octopus swim and change colors. Maya and Kai have been enamored with the five puppies on the island who they named and thoroughly socialized. We’ve also been privy to Gaston and Valentine’s hospitality as they’ve been welcoming yachts for more than 30 years. They live here with Valentine’s sister, step-father and a few other people. They built a small church and every Sunday, Valentine serves as the minister. I experienced a memorable service filled with her contagious laughter as she literally interpreted Moses’ journey out of Egypt.

Sailors who stop here have the option to either pay 500 francs a night for the mooring or dine at the family restaurant. Of course, we took the second option: dinner. Last Saturday, Tim and Jamie from the boat Bamboozle, went fishing with Gaston at 5 am and brought home 42 lobsters and one large tuna. Gaston was the most skilled and caught 98 percent of the lobster. Tim said Gaston’s hunting technique reminded him of Golum in the The Lord of the Rings as he possesses a 6th sense for the lobster. He'd glance at a section of reef and announce, "beaucoup langouste." Then he'd get on his hands and knees, reach in all the way past his elbows, and pull out lobsters with both hands. Sometimes a lobster would try to escape the hole and head out to sea, but Gaston would leap after it, before it got very far.

"Don't stick your hands in unless you're sure there's lobster or an eel may bite you", Gaston warned novice Tim and Jamie. Tim said he had a hard time trying to see the lobsters without being knocked down by the waves and then he feared sacrificing his hands to an eel. Tim and Jaime returned with huge smiles, happy that Gaston led the way as they knew their families would starve if they were counting on just the two of them to bring home dinner. Both did manage to catch a few lobsters and Gaston told them that with practice, they would improve.

Gaston has another way to gather fish: via the fish traps inside the atoll. They’re large metal cages that use the outgoing current to funnel fish indiscriminately into the traps. Every day, I snorkelled over to the traps and look at the various captured sea creatures, including huge Napoleon Wrasses, moray eels, parrot fish, groupers. Even some of the trumpet fish and sting rays managed to get caught. It was satisfying to watch Tova, an Anse Amyot inhabitant, grab the trumpet fish by the nose with his bare hands and throw them outside the cage. He also tossed the sting ray out with his hands. He played tug-of-war with the octopus but it won. I think he was hoping to have that one for dinner.

Fortunately, none of the fish here are contaminated with ciguatera, a toxin generated from microscopic algae that has deemed many fish in most of the other atolls off limits for eating. As soon as one eats a fish poisoned with ciguatera, one’s lips, nose, even hands and feet can turn numb. Symptoms may intensify depending on the amount of ingested poison, but one usually recovers.

To supplement our Saturday night dinner, Gaston visits his fish trap. I watch him work his harpoon and stab a parrot fish in the head. No blood but a frenzy in the cage. The fish know to stay clear of the spear, but the odds are in Gaston's favor. I watch with fascination, impressed at his skill but also a bit horrified at the kill. I remind myself as I do constantly when we capture a fish, This is food no longer an exquisite creature.

Dinner is a fantastic feast. The tuna became poisson cru, a Tahitian specialty of raw fish soaked in lime and coconut milk; the parrot fish’s white meat breaded and fried into tiny morsels; lobsters halved and cooked on the BBQ and an entirely new taste for me: coconut crab, boiled perfectly in half salt water and half fresh water. Surprisingly, the crab meat is sweet and tender and I find it even tastier than the rich, delicious lobster.

At dinner, I sit near Valentine’s step-father, Phillippe, who speaks only French so I must think hard during our conversations. He described the fierce hurricane in 1983 as if it just happened. During that El Nino year, the family hid for two weeks near the bunker a few buildings behind our dining room. Many of the buildings were completely destroyed. They haven’t had a hurricane since then, yet the winds can be strong as we had experienced the other night.

Phillipe also tells us about his time working at the French nuclear test site in Moruroa, an atoll in the southwestern Tuomotos. From 1966 until 1996, the French government sadly decided to use the area for nuclear tests. Phillipe said he needed the money, but he did wear a protective suit at work. I hope that was sufficient to shield him from any fallout of the nuclear tests. I wonder what damage the tests had on this area – it must have destroyed and contaminated so much.

We set sail for a 225 mile passage to Tahiti tomorrow morning as the winds have subsided slightly. The glimpse of Valentine, Gaston and Phillippe’s lives on this scenic atoll will stick with me and remind me of the simpler yet fantastic life, filled with great food.

Swimming with Sharks

2010-06-22T16:02:00.000-07:00

"Shark" Kai yells through his snorkel.

You would think that at this point we're supposed to scramble out of the water and into our dinghy -- quickly. After all, there's not one, but ten sharks in the vicinity at the South Pass here in Fakarava. Instead, Maya, Tim and I swim over to Kai and watch the black tipped reef shark swim towards us, waving its tail rhythmically, like a dog at a beach. We watch it come towards us, close enough so we can count its seven gills. My heart pounds, worried that maybe our children would become tasty snack food for the sharks, but then I take a deep breath. It's just a reef shark and they're more scared of us than we should be of them.

I guard as it moves towards us. I watched the movie "Jaws" a long time ago and that embedded my fear of sharks, but I remind myself that "Jaws" was a great white shark, not one of these picturesque black tips where it seems as if Picasso took a thick black brush and painted the creature's fins and tails. This one coming towards us looks like a lurker, as its cartilaginous body zigzags towards us. I wouldn't want to meet him in an alley in the middle of the night.

Instead of a swim bladder which most fish have for buoyancy, oil in the liver helps keep the sharks afloat, yet they're still negatively buoyant and must keep swimming otherwise they sink. The sharks in and around the South Pass are curious, but shy. They like to congregate by the hundreds at about 80 feet deep in the sandy canal at the mouth of the pass.

We're doing a drift snorkel where we begin at the outside of the Pass to the atoll and the inflowing current takes us inside. The water is so clear that I can see all the way down to the bottom. This time it was my turn to gather the crew of snorkelers. "Barracuda," I mumble through my snorkel. Kai, Maya and Evi from the boat "Wonderland" swim over to me and I point down at the school of barracuda swimming underneath us. We watch their long silver bodies shimmer with the reflected sun. Tim can hold his breath for a long time and is swimming deep with the barracuda.

The current takes us into shallow water with carpets of coral and colorful fish. It feels like we're in a Jacques Cousteau movie. Maya, our budding scientist, is teaching Evi all the names of the fish. I love watching the Chinese trumpet fish nibble on the coral and the funny looking unicorn fish dance circles around each other. Perhaps the most intriguing one and indeed the largest is the four feet long, 300 pound Napoleon wrasse. When Christine, the mother on the catamaran "Stray Kitty" first saw the gigantic fish, she grabbed her children and jumped back into the dinghy, only to laugh about it much later.

"I'm having trouble with my snorkel because I keep smiling so much looking at all the colors and shapes of the fish," says Evi as we gather back into the dinghy.

After ten snorkels through the pass, I realize the sharks are more scared of me than I am of them and I don't hesitate to get close to them. Mike, a marine biologist and captain of the boat "IO" told me that I should be more afraid of the erratic behavior of the moray eels than of the sharks. That is, unless there is blood, which is what happened one afternoon when Jim, on the catamaran "Sea Level" was surfing the wave just outside the pass and on his first ride, his surfboard rammed into his nose. We were just getting into the water and saw him screaming, "Get the dinghy!" Apparently, there was so much blood that he feared the sharks would come over, inspect and perhaps chomp on his bloddy broken nose. He fortunately got out of the water before the sharks smelled blood.

And...we continued our snorkel, admiring the fish and watching the sharks along the way.

Dolphins

2010-06-17T00:29:00.002-07:00

Kamaya sailed quickly along at six knots. We were heading to one of the anchorages at the north end of Hiva Oa in the Marquesas. Suddenly I heard the familiar yell,
“dolphins!”

I jumped out to the cockpit to take a look. Sure enough, dolphin size fins were coming up, and slicing through the water. A few minutes later, the wind dropped suddenly to .5 knots. Normally, dolphins leave when you move too slowly. But this time, they stuck around.

“Why don’t we jump in with them?” my Dad suggested.

I’ve always been waiting for the chance to swim with dolphins. We put on our snorkels and fins and jumped into the water. I felt the chilly water all the way to my neck, but that didn’t stop me from looking around. I looked, and saw six dolphins swimming rapidly along the depths. All of them were straight in a row, like they were getting ready to start a race.

Four more dolphins took a close pass so I could study them for a few seconds. They had pointed noses, and streamlined, silky skin with a white band across their bellies, and up towards their backs.

They circled us, and swam under our flippers. I turned around, slowly, and saw two more dolphins swimming up from deep down. The pair sped up, and broke the surface the same time I pulled my head out. They made a magnificent leap. At the exact same time, they dove back in. it was the most beautiful thing in the world, and I was the only one to see it.

Goodbye dolphins, and then shucks …. I got stung on my arm by a little jelly.

Pomplemouse

2010-06-17T00:27:00.000-07:00

Pomplemouse! Some of you may be unfamiliar with this French named fruit. So I will tell you. It is a grapefruit, but not the regular kind that you may have tried, that sour little fruit that you buy weeks after it was picked in a grocery store. It’s so sour that sometimes your Mom serves it with a little brown sugar on top. Well, that is not a Marquesian pomplemouse, that is something completely different. I don’t even know why it shares the same English name.

After eating pomplemouse, I don’t think I can ever go back.

So what is a pomplemouse? Let’s start from the beginning. It is grown from a little seed, in someone’s backyard in the Marquesas where the volcanic soil is rich in nutrients. When the seed becomes a tree, it will give off more seeds through a fruit. Picture it! A giant fruit that is as big as a basketball, round and green in its full majestic strength.

When you cut it open, you’ll find a springy, pungent inner skin which puffs overpowering citrus spray into the air. Once you pull all that out, you’ll find the treasure. Put the uncovered slice in your mouth, and taste the sweet pulp. It’s sweet, but not too sweet and each bite squirts juice into your mouth.

My favorite fruit used to be pineapples and apples, but now the incredibly delicious pomplemouse wins hands down! I think everyone needs to travel all the way to the Marquesas just for pomplemouse.

Speaking of traveling, our magnificent pomplemouse was probably brought here by some old boat around the time of Captain Cook. Presumably, the regular grapefruit came over and evolved into the bigger, better, fruit.

Pomplemouse! I wish I could eat one every day, but now we’re in the Tuomotos, 500 miles away from the pomplemouse.

The end.

Birthday Kai

2010-06-16T13:32:00.000-07:00

Kai celebrated his 9th birthday on Tuesday last week and we were fortunate to be with five other kid boats – 12 kids total – anchored next to an idyllic pink sand beach at the Southeast end of Fakarava. There were a few abandoned homes and four wild pigs roaming beneath the coconut palms.

At two o’clock, after boat school we gathered on the beach for the party. The first chore was transporting the cake and the party favors to shore without getting them wet. The strong north wind made the task a little more challenging.

As we approached shallow water, ten year old Andrea from the catamaran, Stray Kitty, hopped out of the dinghy and I handed her the chocolate cake. “Make sure to keep it upright,” I said.

She waded through the water and placed the cake on a flat sandy section. In the meantime, we unloaded our dinghy and within minutes a big black pig meandered quietly over towards the cake. We noticed him just as it started nudging the cake top with its snout. Tim fended him off in the nick of time.

“That was close! I didn’t think we had to worry about pigs!” he said.

We walked towards the sand spit at the end of the beach where birthday Kai and some of the guests were already there playing in the coral colored sand and the pig followed us, still keen on getting a piece of cake.

“He’s not invited to the party,” Maya said.

“It’s not just one of them, but three more pigs who want to come,” Andrea said pointing at the three black pigs and one brown one.

“Let’s eat the cake first and then we can play games,” I suggested.

We gathered in a wind protected area and sang Happy Birthday to Kai. As he blew out his candles, we fended off the hungry pigs with our kayak paddle. Each child gave Kai hand-made cards, most with pictures of the sea creatures surrounding us. Ryan had made a bow and arrow out of pieces of wood and strings that he found on his boat. “It’s really amazing how creative boat kids can be,” Behan from the boat Totem, exclaimed.

Next came the games: pin the tail on the shark, throw the coconut into the atoll, tug-of-war and a sand castle contest. Kai loved the sand castle contest the best. He and Simi from Tyee teamed together and took some sea cucumbers from the sea to guard their palace. Austin from Capaz built a castle where hermit crabs could venture into one hole and out another. Austin’s brother, Bryce worked with Niall from Totem and built Isengard, from the Lord of the Rings. They used sticks to reinforce the castle so it wouldn’t tumble down and on the top, they staged a battle between two hermit crabs, the white one was Gandalf and the darker one was Saruman.

Maya and Andrea had made individual prizes, like personal bookmarks, knitted clothes for stuffed animals, a Harry Potter wand, and an artistic crown for birthday Kai. Each participant received a prize.

At sunset, we had a bonfire and roasted marshmallows.

Kai said when we got back to the boat, that this was one of his best birthdays.

Fish Attack

2010-06-15T21:32:00.000-07:00

Passage from the Marquesas to the Tuomotos

Fish on! Pzzzzzzzzzz goes the line and the crew of Kamaya jump into instant action. Books are tossed aside, sleepers are awakened and everyone heads for the cockpit. We all know our job: Tim grabs the rod, tightens the drag and gives a few tugs while Maya and Kai strap on his fighting belt and Ruth slows the boat down. Normally we need to furl the jib, but today, we happen to be motoring as there’s no wind. Ruth eases up on the throttle and I start reeling in easily but slowly.

“Can you see it yet?” I ask Maya who’s perched in her usual fish spotting seat on top of the radar arch.

“I think it’s another sailfish,” she says confidently. We had caught two of these gigantic fishes in the beginning of our big passage from the Galapagos to the Marquesas, but we threw them back in the sea, thinking that they’re more meat than we can eat, plus the books advise releasing billfish to support the sportfishing economy. But then we regretted releasing them because we did not catch a single fish nor even a single bite for the rest of the passage.
“Should we keep it or release it?” I ask, wondering if we’d really eat all the fish, especially since we have a fridge and don’t use our freezer. This one looks to be at least 6 feet long and weighs more than the kids.

“I’ve heard they’re good eating,” adds Ruth

“Let’s release it,” urges Kai.

With no clear consensus I suggest we slack off the line and see if the fish spits out the hook, if not, we keep him. Everyone agrees. I slack the line, we watch the fish, but it’s hooked pretty well and stays on.

“Get out the gaff!” I call.

Ruth holds the pole forward while I attempt to gaff him. I gaff him and start pulling him up but it whacks its body too and fro and falls off the gaff and starts swimming under the boat towards the prop.

“Put it in neutral, quick,” I shout.

Kai, who is now at the helm, puts the boat in neutral, but we fear it’s too late. A tug on the line doesn’t give at all.

“ Oh oh, it must be wrapped around the prop. There’s no wind, I’ll just dive in and free it up. It’s either that or lose this nice lure.” I say.

“What about sharks, there’s some blood in the water,” worries Ruth.

“I’ll have to be quick”, I say hiding my fear.

Luckily the water is very clear. I jump in looking around nervously and then dive under the boat. The first pass, I untangle the line from the prop. I start to pull in only to find that the fish wasn’t just tangled on the prop, it somehow swam through the front part of the shaft in front of the strut.

“How did it do that?” I wonder. Well, I’ll just tie him on and then unhook him. I have Ruth pass me a line and dive under to try my first hair-brained scheme. Well this doesn’t work since the fish is still struggling and I’m trying to hold my breath. I let go of the line and watch it drop down slowly. Whoa, I dive for it wondering why Ruth wasn’t still holding onto her end. She apparently didn’t know that she was supposed to secure it to the boat.

Now comes hair-brained scheme #2: I’ll disconnect the lure, untangle it from the shaft and then pull up the fish. Oh, but once it’s untangled how will I keep the fish from swimming off with the lure? Well, I’ll just tie a line on the end of the lure before unwrapping it completely.

This turns out to be a bit more hairbrained as the extra line just makes it that much harder to untangle. At one point I’m pulling fast on what I think is the free end of the line. I look around for sharks and see the big sailfish with its sharp point coming straight at my face because I’m pulling the wrong way. It finally comes free and I pass the end of the line up to Ruth saying “pull in the fish!”

Well, we finally get the fish aboard and cleaned. It made us many fine meals from sushi, to blackened, to breaded, to ceviche.

And we still have the lure.

So Long Marquesas

2010-06-10T21:22:00.000-07:00

Thursday May 27, the south ocean swell in Taichae Bay, the main anchorage of Nuka Hiva, rose so high that one of the dinghies tied up at shore launched into the air and up onto the dock. Another dinghy was swamped by a crashing wave. For the locals, this was a time to jump on their surf boards and ride the eight foot waves.

We had a few last errands: get bread and sweet chocolate eclairs from Joseph the baker, buy meat and eggs at the main store and pick up our propane tank that was being filled with butane from Tahiti Yacht Services. Even though we had joined the tennis club (yes!) tennis in the Marquesas) for a week, I took the swell as a sign that it was time for us to leave the island where author and sailor Herman Melville once lived with cannibals. I asked a Nuka Hivan woman if the water activity was normal and she shook her head, waved her arms and advised us to "get out of the anchorage."

Seconds after her warning, I looked up and saw a boat anchored too close to shore rise four or five feet and then slap down on the waves. It looked for a moment that it hit bottom. I told the kids, "Let's forget the museum and get out of here."

At 1:00 pm, we pulled up our ahcnor and sailed out the harbor, relieved to be away from the gigantic waves. Apparently, the huge swell was not that unusual and there was no need to panic, but it was time for us to head out and sail 500 miles southwest to the Tuomotos. As we hoisted the mailsail, Maya looked at us and exclaimed, "We're not ready to leave the Marquesas."

"Yeah, we dont have enough pomplemouses," chimed Kai. Pomplemouse is the French word for the football sized grapefruits that we've enjoyed every morning since we arrived earlier in the month. The fruit captures the essence of the Marquesas: its thick skin symbolizes the arduous journey to these remote islands. but once you arrive and peel the skin, the sweet delicious fruit makes it unforgettable.

"Well we could veer to starboard for five miles and spend the night at Daniel's Bay," Tim suggested, knowing that altering plans are one of the benefits of cruising, that for the most part we are free to come and go as we please, and if an anchorage isn't suitable, we can easily move.

"Yeah!" the kids shouted happily. So, it was decided, we weren't going to leave yet. Just as we let out our sails and headed towards Daniel's Bay, a pod of pilot whales surfed our bow. Perhaps they were also telling us not to leave. Within an hour we reached the entrance of the Bay with its dramatic steep cliffs towering over both sides. The channel forks into two stubby bays. We turned to the more protected eastern bay, Daniel's Bay which is named after the Marquesan who used to welcome sailors. Though Daniel is no longer alive, we called his Bay home for the night.

With a few hours of daylight left, we drove our dinghy to the small village of Hakaui where about 50 people live, including our new friend Ma'a and his wife Maria, who, when we visited last week, had graciously shown us hot to navigate their pass into the river. Kay and Maya took one final swing on the coconut tree rigged with a rope. They had spent many hours there last Sunday afternoon figuring out how to climb the coconut tree, grab the rope swing, wrap their legs over the know and fly over the water. That afternoon, with the kids swinging on the coconut tree, horses grazing in the background and a Marquesan family picnicking on roast pig seemed to me to capture the Marquesas.

This Thursday afternoon we walked the dirt path looking for pomplemouses and I thought about our stay in the Marquesas. From our first landfall at Hata Hiva where we rested after 17 nights at sea, stretched our legs with numerous hikes, ate poisson cru and goat smothered in cocoanut sauce, to swimming with manta rays in Tahuata, to swimming in Anaho Bay to the archeological site in Haitahu Bay and finally my favorate hike to Hakaui and Vapai Waterfall, the third largest waterfall in the world. That hike ranks among one of the beautiful hikes of my life - filled with lush flowers, dramatic woods, tikis and a bright green path leading us to a cool water pool.

"I'm going to miss the Marquesas" I said, as I placed a tiara flower behind my right ear.

Swimming with Manta Rays

2010-05-26T17:31:00.000-07:00

One morning, the Kamaya crew heard splashing in the water. The four of us scrambled up the companion way and looked outside -- manta rays. The rays were circling the boat, quite close. “What a perfect time to swim with them.” suggested Bendon.
And that is what we did. We put on our swimsuits (or “costumes” as our French friends call it), snorkels, and jumped in. Mommy stayed in the kayak to point out where the gentle giants were swimming. I went under and heard the familiar chattering of the sea urchins and tiny fish, welcoming me into the water.

I looked around, and saw it. It was bigger than Kai. The giant ray headed straight for me. His wings were pumping up, and plummeting down. His mouth was open wide, gulping nutrients. I could see right through his gills and filter, and into the open ocean. He had no teeth, but gray gills surrounded his mouth. He seemed prehistoric, yet also unimaginably and beautifully elegant. He flew; he glided; he danced through the water.

I have never seen a manta ray underwater. This was amazing. The mantas were twirling through the water, and I saw many. Occasionally they would stick their wing tips out of the sea. From a distance the tips looked like tiger shark fins. But no, they were not sharks; they didn’t prowl and scavenge for bits of food that would be so unwise to come into their grasp. They are Giant Manta Rays. Dancing, and not scavenging.

I watched the manta rays swim away and then I too turned, and slowly slid out of the water, and onto the boat.

But then just as I stood on the deck, they came back again. I heard the splash of their fins going back into the water. We saw them circling around the coral, minding their own business, as if our encounter with them had not happened. But for me, I felt different and in awe of them.

Kaoha!

2010-05-25T19:53:00.000-07:00

“Kaoha, ” -- that’s Marquesan for “hello.” People smile more when we use this greeting as opposed to the French, “Bonjour.”

I smell the sweet fragrant tiare flowers as soon as we set our anchor and call Taa Huku Bay on Hiva Oa home for three nights. On land, once we pass the malodorous shower and its accompanying wash basin for laundry, we continue on the road to the main town of Atuona which has giant mango trees with ripe ones dangling high in the air.

After a two kilometer walk or a hitchhike (everyone stops to give you a ride), we arrive in town. It’s here where we see the elegant Marquesans with flowers in their hair. Rumor has it that when the women place the red hibiscus flower behind their right ear, then it means their love has been taken, but if it’s behind their left ear, then they’re available.

We show the gendarmerie (that’s French for “police”) our boat documents and he scratches our name from the list. Thanks to the Tahiti Yacht Agents, we don’t have to post the necessary bond required for many Americans. The bond is the equivalent of a plane ticket home – so that foreigners don ’t settle in this tropical paradise or if we get unruly, they can put escort us onto the next airplane bound for the states.

Next stop is the ATM machine where we get some beautiful Tahitian Francs. The money here is the prettiest we’ve used so far with exotic women, flowers, tikis and animals on the bills. Even though the dollar is up (91 to the Franc) food is expensive. Cabbage costs about $7; eggs $6 and chicken $14.

Nevertheless, we need food and with Francs in hand, we beeline to the grocery store – it’s been one month since we’ve purchased anything. Imagine that – 30 days without spending any money! We first buy hot French bread (that’s less than one dollar per loaf) and brie, a perfect snack, showing that we’ve landed in a French colony. Having not had meat for a while, we also sample the Chinese chicken buns, evident of the Asian influence. We stock up on frozen New Zealand lamb – as there’s plenty in the store’s freezer, signifying that we’re closer to New Zealand than South America.

But we don’t bother buying fruit as we traded lipstick, blush and bras for football sized pamplemousse (grapefruit) when we first arrived in Fatu Hiva. At the other anchorages, people have been giving us more grapefruit, lemons, breadfruit, star fruit and bananas and we’ve also picked our own. It’s amazing that here in the tropics harvest comes three times a year which means that fruit is plentiful. Sometimes there is so much of it that it falls to the ground.

I feel like we are thousands of miles away from the states and in a truly exotic part of the world, where time ticks at a slower pace and people live a life surrounded by stunning scenery, tropical flowers and fruit and fish. I can understand why Belgium singer Jacques Brel and French artist Paul Gauguin chose to live the remainders of their lives in this paradise.