Sunset view looking out from the little wharf in Taiohae Bay.
The tropics are hot and humid. That’s no news to you or me. Almost daily since Kandu dropped lower than the latitude of Puerto Vallarta, my face drips off around five times. I’ve discovered the importance of eyebrows. Most of the time they keep stinging, salty sweat from dripping into and torturing my eyes. My complexion is a bit of a mess too. Also, instead of using commercial anti-perspirants, we use fresh squeezed organic limejuice to kill the odor causing bacteria from under our arms. Now I notice unpleasant scents within just 20 minutes after cleaning. Ugh!
Those necessary eyebrows!
While living afloat in the near 90-degree seawater of Taiohae Bay you can imagine how much we look forward to the cooling off sensation at nightfall. Now that the four of us are acclimated to the warm temperatures, we actually enjoy the feeling of feeling cold around 4:00 am in the morning. At that early hour, the engine, the stove or cooktop, and the exterior of the boat have completely cooled off. However, one place on the boat that cools down more quickly than any other is the foredeck. After sunset, by 7:30 p.m., condensation typically starts to build which provides a slick place to hang out and cool before heading to bed. Even if my clothes get a little wet, the refrigeration effect is pleasant and the fresh water dries quickly.
Kandu Foredeck an hour before sunset.
Once I’m finished cooking dinner, all the while sweating profusely, we enjoy family time: sharing conversation over dinner, perhaps finishing a movie, or playing a card game. After family time, I pack away the leftovers. Then when the night sky is clear, I meander topside to the bow. I lay facing upwards to gaze at the sky and ponder the day, the themes of a book I’m reading, the future, the universe, the beautiful lights, or God. Sometimes I’m accompanied by Trent. He and I quietly chat about school, family issues, boat work, or about a strategic move he organized during his allotted time to play video games on the Internet at the local wharf café, “Snack Vaeaki,” otherwise known as “Chez Henri.” This is a favorite part of my day. Our heads practically touch on the foredeck. Sometimes I search for his hand and hold it while we talk. The boat rocks to and fro, or up and down like a seesaw.
Orion the hunter in the nighttime sky.
When alone, I simply gaze around me and contemplate the beauty of the evening, whether the sky is clear or somewhat overcast. I search for Orion. I wonder what my loved ones might be doing back in California; if they contemplated the moon before going to bed that night – the same full moon that shines here so brightly out of the dark that it actually pains my eyes to look at it. Every time I gaze over the black night water I see a fairy’s dance of anchor lights, as if suspended in mid-air, the tops of boat masts swaying each way. If any of you have ever enjoyed or remember Anaheim Disneyland’s Peter Pan ride, you know what I mean when I tell you that it feels like I’m drifting among the stars. Like the celebrated California Adventure ride “California Souring” smells of the island waft in the air sometimes heavy with flower, or simply fragrances of fresh greenery and the heavy scent of fresh earth. The smell of the ocean has so permeated my nose now that I actually no longer smell the salt and green algae of the sea. And to top all this wonder, on weekends or holidays, popular Polynesian music often drifts over from the shoreline from speakers, accompanied by the laughter of partygoers on the beach. The shore is far enough away that the sounds are never too loud, just pleasantly charming heard only from top deck. Once one descends inside the boat’s interior space, exterior noises are hardly noticeable. If there is no music, my ears are alert to the sounds of waves crashing, water tickling the boat, or even jumping fish. The sound of little schools of pointy nosed fish jumping out of the water is intriguing; much like the sound of an American Indian rain stick. I speculate whether a larger fish may be chasing them or if they jump in response to light emanating from a passing car’s headlights.
Anchor Lights at night.
There are times when the day was so hot, humid, and my time spent busy with boat repairs and various land activities that I actually fall asleep on the hard cool deck that slants outward toward the water. I rarely bring a pillow, so my head lolls back and forth generally in the direction of the water and likely my neck ends up in a crooked, uncomfortable position. At that point discomfort alerts me to get up and go to bed. By that time, I’m sufficiently cooled off. I meander down stairs, into the Kandu’s interior living space, drink a glass of water to rehydrate from all the day’s sweating, brush my teeth, and sleep soundly . . . that is, unless it starts to rain, whereby all the open hatches and port lights must be closed and the sauna of the interior living space steams up again!
Dear Readers – I am attempting to add a new category to our website in order to catch you up on some of the activities that we as a family have enjoyed here in the Marquesas since arriving. These are edited letters that I have sent to family and friends during our time here. They include dates and places along with my observations and also responses to letters (emails) that I enjoyed from the various correspondents. I have already posted once in this category but didn’t hear if any of you liked it or if you think these kind of postings are uninteresting. Please let me know your thoughts.
Anaho Bay as seen from above while hiking to Hatiheu
July 13, 2015
Dear Mom and Dad – On Wednesday, the 8th of July, we sailed over to the incredibly picturesque bay of Anaho situated on the northeast corner of Nukuhiva. It’s a bay we intend to bring you two when you visit. We had been intending on making our way to Anaho almost from the day we arrived, as it is an extremely calm protected bay with very few sharks. And true to its reputation, the bay was exquisitely beautiful with clear calm water. Anaho is one of the bays that actually has a a coral reef to snorkel. Sadly, in 1983 during the last El Nino, the shallow waters heated up so intensly that most of the coral died. After more than 20 years, it is starting to rejuvenate, but with this year’s El Nino the possibility of it happening again is all too likely.
We followed close behind our new French cruiser friends, husband Guy, wife Marian, and 9 year old Taeva, an adopted Tahitian boy. They live on Tahiti near Papeete. They are very close friends with Raymonde and Sebastien.
Guy and Marian Lejeune are good friends of Raymonde & Sebastien who live on Tahiti and sail on their monohull Manatai.
Ever since we arrived in Taiohae, we have been experiencing a gradually increasing leak from the propeller shaft stuffing box as the coils were no longer sufficiently holding back the water. This repair needed to be done in calm waters with no sharks. In Anaho, Eric and Guy succeeded in fixing the leak working tirelessly on it for an entire day. It was imperative to fix before we left the boat unattended to visit Aakapa, where Denis and Chantale live. Guy helped us so much.
Chantale Falchetto wearing a handmade crown of leaves. It is a tradition for women to make and to wear crowns during celebrations.Denis Tetohu, Chantale’s husband and Police Officer of Aakapa.
From Anaho we hiked over to Hatiheu where Denis fetched us in his truck. Bryce, Trent and Taeva had left two days prior to Denis and Chantale’s house in Aakapa to prepare a special entertainment for us there once we got the leak repaired. The fourteenth of July (France’s Independence Day) is approaching and all the towns and bays of Nuku Hiva have been ramping up their festivities to celebrate. It turns out that Bryce and Trent were encouraged to participate in the “Miss and Mister Aakapa” competition/fashion show along with Chantale’s young visiting nephews, Mathu and Mauna-iki from Bora Bora (Marquesan born, but Tahitian by culture). What a crazy/fun way to kick-off immersion into present-day Marquesan culture. There were special publicity photos taken of each participant out in natural settings, videos, and rehearsals for 2 days in preparation. They each had three outfits to pageant: a native plant costume, a pareo, and then regular nice street clothes. There were several female participants from Aakapa, but besides the foreigners, only one Marquesan Aakapa boy had the courage to be a part. Guess who won the male contest: the blond-haired, pale-skinned, blue-eyed California boys? Not! It was a great time had by all and during the time the boys hung out with those pretty local girls, they chanced to learn a few French phrases along the way! Eric has always claimed that the best way to learn French is by having a French girlfriend.
Bryce and Trent competing for Mister Aakapa sporting pareos.
After the weekend festivities in Aakapa, we yacht families hiked back to Anaho via Hatiheu to return to our boats. Having been to Anaho many times prior, Marian invited me to join her and Guy on a porcelain shell and pencil urchin hunting excursion among the tide pools. She taught me how to harvest the popular shells and urchins with gloves and a long sharp knife. All new to me, I tagged along trying not to fall on the slippery lava. She captured three urchins, which later that evening we got to taste: salty and slippery to the tongue. I’m not entirely certain we are fans, but the shells and pencil spikes are great prizes. I’ll make sure to keep the spikes for mom’s artwork. I think she will have a creative use for them!
Marquesan Pencil Urchin
That’s the latest news. All is very well. No major infections or injuries. We are all happy to be among the lovely people of these picturesque isles. XOXOXO
September 2, 2015
Hello Darling Denise,
We are doing very well here in the Marquesas on the island of Nuku Hiva in the bay and village of Taiohae. We are so glad to be here in this relatively quiet bay. It is a large protected bay surrounded by the biggest town in the Marquesas. Most towns here are deep inside valleys. Taiohae markets, stores, homes, administrative offices and the hospital mostly border the waterline, making life on the water convenient.
We have enrolled the boys in school here, and while they don’t speak a lot of French yet, they are picking up words and understanding more and more daily. We speak to them in French too, although not often enough. They get mad at us whenever we push the French not understanding the great opportunity they have to improve their speaking skills with us among family. Oh well!
Trent starting school at College Taiohae.
We have just two aluminum boat bikes that we brought with us, which was creating a little challenge for our family of four since walking and biking are our only modes of transportation on land accompanied by occasional hitch-hiking. This past week, some local friends of ours were in Papeete, Tahiti on vacation and they helped us order two kid BMX bikes for the boys and a couple boogie boards, as our cheap ones from Costco are falling apart. This is their birthday month after all. Yesterday, the boat Aranui III from Papeete arrived. Bryce and Trent were beside themselves excited to get their new toys.
Bryce & Trent’s new bicycles parked in front of Henri’s Cafe.
This Sunday, my parents are arriving. We are thrilled to have them for three weeks! I pray that my mother will be able to handle spending time on the boat. Our generous Marquesan friends are putting them up in their lovely house which overlooks the bay for a week to recover from the long trip and to help them get used to the climate change. It is definitely warm and humid here. They will need time to acclimate. The following two weeks we plan to sail to nearby Hakaui Bay (otherwise known as Daniel’s Bay) in order to hike the famous waterfall there, head to Anaho to visit one of the most extraordinarily beautiful bays in Nuku Hiva, hit Taipivai for some shell collecting and then head over by land to Aakapa – a more remote bay – where most of our friends live – to tour the farms, chop down coconuts, feed the pigs and enjoy the practically private beach. Lots of fun plans ahead.
Evidence of Shell Collecting in Taipi Vai.
Presently, I’m hanging out at “Chez Henri’s,” a local restaurant cafe with the best wifi in town. Lessons on ukele are being taught right next door. They sing in harmony….not perfectly, but it is charming to hear. The view is stunning and we get to know more and more people everyday. When you are acquainted with someone, the usual greeting is kisses on the cheek. Everyone goes around and greets and shakes friends’ hands. It’s heartwarming. And sometimes hard to get work done as it’s the best hangout in town, not to mention it’s the central wharf where all the yachties leave their dinghies when provisioning or visiting on land. We tend to know many of the yachties now who have traveled from Mexico to the Galapagos to the Marquesas. Many of them have already been around the world once! Most yachties are allowed only three months to travel in all of French Polynesia, but the ones here right now applied in the states for a year visa, so many are hanging around the Marquesas islands during the hurricane season, which is already appearing in Tahiti with heavy rains and bad weather. This El Nino year is serious. Tahiti and the society islands could get hit hard – and we’re protected here in the Marquesas islands from hurricanes because the islands are located so close to the equator.
Daily life is working out well here for us. It feels good to have some downtime since the last couple years of preparation were challenging to say the least. Hoping you and Jack are doing very well. Hugs,
September 30, 2015
Kaoha Ron and Rosie to Nuku Hiva!
Mom and Dad,
Hello you two. Yes, we did indeed finally get your satellite text responses letting us know you arrived back home safely, and even received the one from this morning asking about Trent’s birthday celebration. To celebrate Trent, we had a great dinner and evening together. For dinner, Trent indicated before heading to school, that he wanted hash browns and bacon. So Eric and I grated potatoes and I found bacon at one of the stores – hurray! Accompanied by sunny side eggs along with my yummy pineapple upside down cake, he was elated. I had also picked-up some coca-cola sodas, sour candies, mentos and cookies as little sweet presents, so both Trent and Bryce were all smiles, feeling spoiled.
Bryce and Trent’s September 2015 birthday celebration aboard Kandu turning 14 and 12 years.
I needed desperately to clean out the fridge and freezer this morning as both were stinking up the boat. The ground beef in the freezer had completely defrosted and leaked out a bloody mess. Yuck! I also washed some laundry yesterday at Raymonde’s and took care of much needed grocery shopping.
We are heading over to the library this afternoon to meet the boys after school to look for some easy children’s French books to read together. The boys have been rather down on the French, thus Eric and I need to pump them up with reading materials that they can tackle and then patiently tutor them along with Stephane, the boys’ French language tutor that they each work with 2 hours per week.
What a great trip home you guys had…broken up into little tour packages in Tahiti and in Waikiki. Thanks for treating Raymonde’s brother Patrick and her boys to dinner. They certainly are handsome young men! And so polite too! I cannot believe all three showed up at the airport with more flowers and bead necklaces for you. Goodness gracious, you must have weighed in an extra five pounds! lol Glad you got a chance to visit the Arizona and Diamond Head in Waikiki.
That was an interesting remark about your impressions seeing Diamond Head: “After appreciating all the incredible views and vistas on Nuku Hiva, the famous view from the Waikiki coastline was anti-climatic.” The last time we were in Waikiki, I was rather disappointed too with all the ugly high rises, heavy traffic and pollution. Yet the surfing at Waikiki beach was truly terrific. On Waikiki, Bryce and Trent had their first experience surfing way back in 2008 when Trent was 4 and Bryce was 6.
Bryce surfing Waikiki at age 6.Trent’s first experience surfing – Waikiki age 4.
Good news to hear that the smelly urchin shells we collected together made their way to Oakland intact and that there were no customs problems with the many things you brought home for us. I’m sure it will be fun unloading all the treasures we found together during your visit here. Already missing you. Love Leslie.
Ron & Rosie displaying one of the incredible urchin shells found in Taipi Vai.
June 30, 2015 Taiohae, Nuku Hiva, Marquesas Islands, French Polynesia
Vaituha Eiao, Bryce returns from a refreshing swim after a long hike
Dear Mom and Dad,
Really quickly, as I’ve finally succeeded in downloading our emails sent to us while we sailed from the Galapagos…it took 3 hours. I see you pdf’d the newspaper articles: “Other Side of Paradise” and the Ventura Star Article. It’s terrific that you were able to scan them for us. We will add them to the website. Thank you.
We are just about ready to depart for the island of Eiao, 70 miles to the northwest, with the Falchetto family and their French yacht friends, Guy, Marian and son Taeva on their monohull Manatai. Eiao is a small, uninhabited island with little water, sparse vegetation, and one decent bay called Vaituha. It was suggested we make the overnight sail there: hike across the island, hunt pigs and sheep, spearfish, and snorkel in the clear water where a plethora of fish and manta rays dwell.
It is 6:00 pm here in Taiohae and the men are all loaded. Just me and Raymonde remain at their house packing up last minute food items and working on the computer. I changed into my pants because there are quite a few mosquitos here that are feasting on my blood.
It was great to chat with you on Skype today – always too short. It is so beautiful, green and lush, we know you will like it a lot. Many activities to pursue – somewhat primitive infrastructure, yet life as a yachtie is definitely workable here.
Sending you many hugs and kisses. Thanks again for selling the Prius for us. That was quite a bit of work and dedication on your part. And happy anniversary again. I’m sorry we weren’t there to celebrate with you. Our 26th is coming up. I almost forgot. Funny! Love you!
Leslie
June 30, 2015
Dear Aunt Kay,
We wish you a Happy Belated Birthday; you’ll have to imagine us singing to you!
All is well in Taiohae, the largest bay and town on Nuku Hiva and incidentally in the Marquesas; it is the administrative center. We arrived in the Marquesas Isles 6 days ago. It is beautiful here and lives up to its Marquesan name: “The Land of Men.” Boys are having a swell time and fortunately Kandu is in good repair. We had a great experience in the Galapagos. Our 24-day voyage across the Pacific from Isla Isabela went without problems, although the seas weren’t idyllically comfortable. We experienced convoluted swells, but mostly large rollers stemming from the south and southeast, which we surfed. There was one extraordinary late afternoon when hundreds of dolphins teamed around, surfing the waves along with us. Their thrilling surf and acrobatic show lasted a couple hours until it got so dark, we couldn’t see them anymore. We also benefitted from predominantly strong winds, which sometimes increased our speed up to 9 knots – our average speed was 6.5 knots. Coming into Nuku Hiva, we were so happy to see land that, as usual, we couldn’t wait to disembark from Kandu and go ashore. Our Marquesan friends were at the wharf to welcome us with flower leis. The Falchetto family of over 30 members threw us a welcome party that very evening as if we were long lost family. No wonder Eric was anxious to sail straight here.
Presently, we’re visiting and anchoring around the island of Nuku Hiva: Taipi Vai, Anaho, Hathieu. There are many lovely bays to visit, adventures to be had and extremely generous people to appreciate. We are fortunate indeed. And on top of all the good news, Bryce and Trent are going to attend school in August. Isn’t that thrilling? We have been working on teaching them little bits of French, but by going to school here, they will hear French daily and really learn it; a dream both Eric and I have hoped to realize for a long time.
All four of us are in good health aside from treating the constant bug bites for infection. We are missing home a bit, but enjoying the fresh air and new daily challenges.
Sending hugs and songs to you from our hearts,
Leslie
After 24 days at sea, we arrive in Taiohae, Nuku Hiva to be greeted by dear friends.Welcomed like a royal, enveloped by the scent of fresh tiareA Falchetto family celebratory dinner in our honor. The Plymouth Pilgrims have nothing on us.Denis prepares fresh roasted breadfruit poi in fresh coconut milk for all to savor.Table is set for a Falchetto family dinner, welcoming us to Nuku HivaFalchetto potluck dinner presents local favorites too complicated to describe.“Puaka” is the Marquesan word for pig. Delicious is the English word for how it tastes.Kandu and Manatai in Vaituha Bay, EiaoEaio landscape resembles Africa more than PolynesiaTrek was aided by cloud coverSpring water flows freely at Vaituha, EiaoWild mutton air-dries before packing in salt for the sail back to Nuku Hiva.
We left the Galapagos the 2nd of June 2015 and arrived in Nuku Hiva, Marquesas June 25th. Since arriving, our lives have been full to the brim with amazing local experiences, but before I blog about these more recent experiences, I want to recount a couple more special things that we enjoyed while we were on Isla Isabella before I forget.
Marina Iguana Yoga
The marine iguanas were the absolute favorite wild creatures that we saw, perhaps because they were literally laying around everywhere we traversed: on paths, on docks, in streets, on rocks, etc. They are wild and prehistoric looking, and yet it turns out are incredibly vulnerable. From what we learned, these cold-blooded creatures eat algae off marine rocks, but swimming in the tepid water lowers their body temperature significantly, so they must spend a great deal of time out of the water sunning themselves. And if they expend too much energy moving about, the effort could actually kill them, especially if they are chased.
Marine Iguana (photo by Leslie)
We spent a lot of time observing these interesting reptiles and taking pictures of them sporting various yoga positions. If you got too close, they’d warn you to stay back by snorting projectile saltwater spray. Yuck! Once while snorkeling, I witnessed an iguana swimming through a group of unsuspecting snorkelers. Its movement was similar to a snake, using only its tail to slither through the water. Its head stayed above water, its feet did not paddle but limped alongside its scaly body. Yet when it ran, its legs propelled him rapidly over the land; its long, wiggly toes gripped the sharp lava along the waterside and along the wall with surprising agility. We found the iguanas to be excellent climbers and often witnessed them sunning on rooftops.
Landside, we spent a day bicycling 5 miles to the wall of tears (Muro de las lagrimas), to the tortoise-breeding center, and to the flamingo habitat. We rented three extra bikes so that all five of us could ride together, including Uncle Bill. The bicycle ride was partially carved along the beach. A couple miles along the path, the setting turned into wetlands with a coastal group of lagoons and mangroves scattered about.
Three miles in, the path headed uphill changing into a wild semi-arid landscape with the addition of cactus and succulents. Along the way, we came upon a medium-sized wild tortoise trying to cross the road. We accosted it with cameras and it immediately hissed exhausted air by pulling its head back deep into its shell. Wild! Arriving at the wall of tears was a bit anticlimactic. Yet considering the sad story of its construction, it was worthy of seeing for historical perspective. During the late 1940’s when a penal colony was established on Isabela, prisoners built the wall out of chiseled black lava bricks as forced labor. Tragically, many suffered and died while building that non-essential wall; work created out of spite by the sadistic warden. When the truth came out, the entire colony was disbanded.
After our insightful visit, the ride back was all downhill and enjoyable. The tortoise long gone, had disappeared into the brushland. Before entering town we biked a side street leading to the Arnaldo Tupiza Tortoise Breeding Center, reported by fellow yachters to be superior to Darwin’s tortoise exhibit located at the more popular Puerto Ayora on Isla Santa Cruz. At the Tortoise Center, we found ourselves completely alone among the tortoises of all sizes. Bryce and Trent had a blast tempting the larger tortoises to come alive by offering them green vegetation to nibble. These large clumsy creatures clambered over each other like World War II tanks, trying to get at the proffered leaves.
Trent at the Galapagos Tortoise Breeding Center
It was amusing to watch them stretch out their long necks and waddle in their odd fashion on four wide-stretched legs. The exhibit offered sights from the smallest newborns to the largest active breeders. We were later told that a female lays about 160 eggs in one batch, and when protected at the Breeding Center, all 160 typically survive to be reintegrated into the wild near the remote volcanoes. Nice odds! After our tortoise visit, the flamingo habitat located nearby was, in comparison, not heavily inhabited. Those flamingos present were an exquisitely bright salmon color…healthy and prospering. It was an altogether great day of sightseeing!
For the surfers aboard Kandu, Bryce and Trent found the only local surf site just east of La Playita by the lighthouse. Before attempting to surf, they consulted with Puerto Villamil’s local surf instructor and bike rental owner nicknamed “Junior” who spoke English well and confirmed that La Playita was indeed the only nearby surf location and was generally safe. Very beautiful, the site sported an all-sand beach and a surfer’s shack.
The waves, however, were generally large, blown out, and arrived one after another with little time in between to get prepared. Bryce and Trent felt safer and enjoyed themselves more when locals showed up, including Junior, who was the only local who surfed in a wetsuit, possibly for jellyfish protection. With no jellyfish present, the water temperature for Bryce and Trent was perfect: no wetsuits required having hailed from the much colder waters of Ventura. One day in particular was especially exciting. There were several local surfers out bobbing in the waves when Bryce spotted a shark near the surface. He waved at a nearby local surfer and pointed to the shark. The local surfer hailed the other surfers then instantly paddled over to Bryce and propelled him from his own board into a wave toward shore, then paddled over to Trent and likewise thrust him out of harms way. All the surfers immediately made their way back to shore and quickly exited the water. Bryce and Trent went out to surf the morning after, but due to another shark sighting, swiftly returned to shore. When local surfers race out of the water, it’s wise to follow suit.
During the short 15 days that we were visiting Isla Isabela, in between making necessary repairs for Kandu’s upcoming 3000-mile voyage to the Marquesas, Eric worked additionally to arrange a Skype exchange between their local middle school and Ventura’s Cabrillo middle school. Arranging for a dependable wifi connection at the school site was a challenge. But with the help and dedication of the staff and our beloved friend and yacht agent, JC DeSoto, they succeeded and tested the connection before the event. With a torrential rain pouring outside and off the large roof, the English teacher situated her English students for two half-hour sessions to take place in an open-air classroom. The young teenagers enjoyed asking questions of one another about life and free-time. Being quite modern, we discovered: that the Galapagos students enjoy access to mp3 players, smart phones, and video games just like their Ventura counterparts, and that the two groups share a love of surfing, water sports, and soccer or “football” as it’s called in the rest of the world. The Skype session ended with the middle schoolers playing ‘rock, paper, scissors’ together – evidently a universal game.
JC DeSoto
I got a chance to sing at the local Catholic Church one Sunday morning. Their lovely folkloric Ecuadorian-style music and choir were simply accompanied by a drum and other percussion instruments; the singers seemingly found their pitch out of thin air. I, on the other hand, carried my pitch pipe to be sure that I sang on the correct pitch when I sang Schubert’s ‘Ave Maria’ during communion. The acoustics were terrific. My voice carried beautifully through the grand hall and after the service, the priest and parishioners enthusiastically thanked me for being a part of their worship. I wished that I could have participated with the choir too, but the choir members performed everything from memory, not even reading their lyrics from a score. Since I don’t speak Spanish well, I couldn’t easily join in, except on the universal ‘Alleluia.’ The church itself was relatively new and modern looking with great tall beams supporting a wide, lofty roof. One side of the church was beautified by large stained glass windows, each displaying an image of one of the special animals that glorify the Galapagos: penguin, marine iguana, blue-footed boobie, giant tortoise, and seal. The opposite side of the church displayed the images of Christ during his persecution, exquisitely carved in wood. The alter was equally impressive. An enormous and beautifully rendered carving of the same animals as represented within the stained glass, now depicted together, supported a large, exquisitely finished, wooden tabletop. I felt privileged to be able to sing in such a lovely and holy setting within this world-renowned archipelago.
It was difficult for Kandu and Uncle Bill to arrive in the Galapagos. The passage from Mexico to Galapagos was unpleasant and challenging, battling shifting winds, mixed seas, and constant thundershowers, as well as boat issues. Eric indicated beforehand that the crossing would be a challenge, but we both felt we’d already given up too many bucket-list destinations to give up this one too. That said, the challenge in getting here made it easy to cross off Easter and Pitcairn Islands in favor of the simpler Marquesas-direct crossing. I’d still like to see the moai on Easter Island someday. Who knows . . . maybe we’ll fly to Easter Island from Tahiti? The sour memory of the Mexico to Galapagos crossing will certainly fade. What will remain will be the wonderfully amazing experiences on Isla Isabela and in Puerto Villamil, etched in our collective memories, having provided our family a direct relationship with this unique and diverse part of the world. Documentaries and movies do the earth and animal sciences justice, but these modern story-telling tools overlook what it’s like to live among these wonders. Experiencing such things as a normal part of life is an extraordinary circumstance we hope the boys will forever appreciate.
Puerto Villamil on the south-eastern “heel” of Isabela. The island is said to resemble a seahorse.
Traveling to the Galapagos has for as long as I can remember been on my bucket list of places to visit before I died, along with the Egyptian pyramids, the Great Wall of China, the Coliseum in Rome, the Amazon river in Brazil or Ecuador and Machu Picchu in Peru. Well, just a few days have passed since we departed the Galapagos and I have a moment to reflect and determine whether my expectations were met.
While we were getting ready to leave, so many asked: “Are you excited?” as if the journey we were embarking on was to be full of fun. ‘Fun’ was not a big player in my immediate expectations. Surely I anticipated great moments, but the word ‘fun’ is loaded. The dictionary definition of fun is, “something that is amusing or enjoyable, an enjoyable experience or person, an amusing time, the feeling of being amused or entertained.” When I think of ‘fun,’ I think of roller coasters, Disneyland, going to see an anticipated movie accompanied with popcorn, birthday parties, singing onstage at the Dorothy Chandler opening night…and well, you get the idea. From where I stood, I saw a lot of work and discomfort ahead, and thus I was not particularly excited. I did not perceive having a lot of immediate ‘fun.’
Bryce and Mickey @D’land in 2005
Surely there have been great moments since we left February 10th as we sailed south down California and into Mexico. And there are many moments spent in the Galapagos that I consider fun, like when the four of us were snorkeling at Los Túneles (The Tunnels) and I witnessed Trent cozying up to two enormous sea turtles eating algae for lunch (the very turtles Trent had studied in his Galapagos report!). The turtles were bigger than any one of us! The joy and feeling of awe were inspiring.
Lunching Sea Turtle with Trent
Almost equal to the sea turtles was the adventure in getting to their feeding ground: the exhilarating boat ride to the snorkeling area, jumping over swells at high speed, saltwater spray everywhere, the captain not seeming to care if his craft were in harm’s way. Thankfully all passengers were wearing life jackets, hanging on for their lives. LOL!! Once we arrived near Los Túneles’s shoreline, the traverse became especially technical. We got to experience how the captain surfed our small vessel on enormous swells, navigating at the last second through openings of snarly lava reefs that we couldn’t see before he turned. His skill at maneuvering around the innumerable hazards lurking just under the water convinced me of the necessity to hire expensive yet experienced guides. I can appreciate all the accidents that have been avoided by requiring visitors to the Galapagos to hire professionals. Interestingly, the Galapagos islands are zoned for specific uses. Los Túneles’s falls within the “Fishing” jurisdiction. All boats that arrive filled with tourists are officially fishing boats with some fishing equipment and manned by fishermen.
Turtles swimming in the clear waters of Los Tuneles
The moment we turned into the tropical lagoon, the energy of the pounding waves diminished and we were left to putt along a near placid wonderland of tunnels and magical bridges, winding through Disneyesque dreamscapes.
The family standing on one of Los Tuneles’s many natural lava bridges over an aquarium of clear water
We first walked along the crags and bridges enjoying the sights of clear waters and turtles swimming below and hoping to catch up close a blue-footed boobie. As fate would allow, we approached within a foot a nesting blue-footed boobie who gawked at us as we gawked at him.
Blue-footed Boobie watches us watch him.
Quoting Bryce who studied them: “This is Cool!” Later, while snorkeling Los Túneles, along with the many large turtles, we got up close to 8-inch sea horses attached to sea grass, and approached penguins sunning themselves within hands reach.
Galapagos penguin stands unfettered by our gawking at his extreme “cuteness.”
We were guided into underwater caves where sharks were sleeping. We swam with large stingrays and innumerable tropical fish only inches away. It was spectacular!
Fun? Yes, that was fun, a natural Disneyland but with real hazards, which made it more exciting. For example, the current was sometimes strong and it was easy to get separated from the group. Knowing sharks slept nearby was incentive to stay close. Sometimes the water was cloudy and dark; you couldn’t always see what was ahead, sharp-edged lava rock encircled us. Yet we all made it back to the boat, happy, unscathed, and energized, our heads full of unforgettable images.
Rigney Family excited to experience the awesome expanse of Sierra Negro’s Caldera, the second largest active caldera in the world (Yellow Stone is #1).Trent watches the impending rain storm approaching our position on the caldera ridge.
Another memorable day, we hired a guide to take us hiking up to the top of Sierra Negra Volcano and into the black lava fields of three separate events starting in the sixties and the latest one being in 2005, to meander safely around the powerful remnants of explosive yet presently dormant cones and craters of Volcan Chico. It was fascinating, learning from our guide the various dates of activity and how long it takes for plant life to take hold. It was also noteworthy learning how the oxidation of the iron-rich lava turns the black stone reddish brown over time.
Older reddish-brown lava below our feet, newer black lava in front.
We got up close to the heated sulfur cones magnificently colored in yellows, fluorescent reds and pinks like fancy tropical fish.
Multi-colors of sulfur vent
We saw lava tubes, cinder cones, vents, got to see and handle Pele’s tears, and we took pictures surfing a lava-wave and advancing down a lava-fall. Neat!
Lava tube “slide”Surfing the tube of a “frozen” lava wavePele’s tearsLeslie holds examples of Pele’s tears.
On a side note, all the guides were covered head-to-foot with protective clothing, hats, long sleeves and pants, including scarves over their necks and faces presumably due to the reflective radiation rising from the black lava. It was scorching when the sun peaked through the clouds. Since the four of us weren’t dressed properly, we were fortunate that most of the day was overcast, except the hour we overlooked the Sierra Negra crater. The momentarily clear sky allowed us to gaze down at the second largest active caldera in the world: 10 kilometers wide. The last eruption there was in 2005. Due to that eruption, half the green vegetation in the interior of the caldera was engulfed by barren black rock. We almost didn’t go on this excursion, time and money considering, but we were so glad we did.
Just getting in and out of town from the boat was an adventure. Riding our folding bikes through a frontier town, exploring the unknown, was fun. Puerto Villamel’s streets are black lava gravel covered in a foot of white sand. When it rained, as it did the first five days of our arrival, the streets became completely flooded in about 8” of murky water. Yet because the sidewalks were constructed tall, about 18”-24” above street level, pedestrians and cyclists could still make their way through town. Learning when and where to shop for food proved to be great exercise as the markets were mostly located across town and open early mornings and evenings. If we didn’t make it off the boat early enough, we had to return to town later to shop between 3:30-6:30. My Spanish was meager at best, so finding everything we needed, including dish soap, tested my communication and shopping skills. Transporting the heavy bags home required endurance. At least two times, we rode from one side of town to the other, in the dark, on sand with large grocery bags hanging off our arms because we didn’t have our bike cart. The challenge of shopping was actually rather ‘fun.’
Leslie uses bike cart to do late night provisioning. (photo by Bill Kohut)
‘Fun’ is relative. Eric and I like to promote the idea to Bryce and Trent: “Do as I do!” Get out into the world, live actively, learn deeply, explore widely. While journeying, exciting things can happen. Yet much of the time, in the moment, my excitement is more often than not subdued because exploring from Kandu requires great thoughtfulness, unlike at Disneyland where everything is safe, safety nets abound, and I know much of what to expect. Out on the great blue and/or reaching new land sites, things are always unfamiliar, different, and potentially dangerous. Existing safety nets, if there are any nets to be found, generally have holes, large ones.
I have more stories to relate about our time in the Galapagos (look for future posts). Suffice it to say; aside from the concerns about our safety, my bucket list expectations of the Galapagos were surpassed. Just as we were becoming accustomed to our Galapagos lifestyle, friends and associations, knowing how to get things done, it was time leave . . .
Change. It is often argued that change in life is a good thing: painful but good. When companies merge, the change brings lay-offs, but ultimately, the merged company has streamlined, gained assets and productivity, hopefully. The crazy thing about living on a boat is that everything is subject to change daily/hourly. Docked in a port or anchored, work is typically being accomplished somewhere on the boat, beds are torn up, tools are pulled out, and the 240 square feet of living space inside is made ever tighter. On a regular day, when someone pulls out a tool, computer or item, even if it’s put away into it’s assigned place, it could be relocated the next time you go to look for it.
When sailing on the open ocean, the weather dictates the changes. The norm might last 2 hours or 25 days depending on the wind, the current, and the direction of the swell. During our sail from Puerta Vallarta to the Galapagos, change was the norm…probably due to the time of year we embarked and/or possibly due to the changes in weather dictated by El Nino. The longest norm we enjoyed lasted about 24 hours. We tacked often from starboard to port where everything balancing well on one tack then balances differently on the other tack. Port light windows are open and closed along with the hatches to ensure the ocean doesn’t come splashing in. Inside it’s sweltering, so sometimes we risk opening up the hatches or port lights, only to close them shortly thereafter because now rain is threatening.
The sea colors are enormously changeable too. On a cloudy day, the sea looks steely grey with flecks of silver with large rippling swells. It looks impenetrable, holding tightly to its secrets. On a sunny day, the sea looks blue: not a light blue, but a deep blue. If the seas are doldrum calm, it is clear, almost like a mirror, and you can see deeply into the water, the rays of light penetrating the leagues. It feels like the mysteries below are close, attainable.
Trent observes close passing cruise ship off Mexican coast. (photo by Eric)
These changes are indicative of life aboard, inside and out. Sometimes hot inside, the crew sits outside to enjoy the breeze. When it rains, the cockpit becomes very wet and inhospitable. Most stay below. If things are not stowed properly in their place, they fall down, whether its books, cups, food, sail wrenches, water bottles or computers.
Leslie observes changes in sea and sky. (photo by Eric)
Mostly, the constant change in sea motion is what confounds and exhausts the mind. Serious studying is very difficult because much of the mind is dedicated to concentrating on staying upright, especially when over 10° healed over. The crew moves side to side, forward and back, constantly. Nothing is still. I find reading and some thought possible, but serious contemplation and learning new concepts, nearly impossible. The ability to accomplish much beyond the most mundane or most necessary (cooking, changing sails, washing dishes, taking showers) is dramatically minimized.
Steel grey sea, close to the equator (photo by Leslie)
Change is the constant in life. Everyday we spend at sea reminds me of this. Headed to the Galapagos, which exhibits this idea to the utmost, the birthplace of the idea of evolution, change from one species into another distinct species, makes for an incredible learning opportunity. To quote writer Jeff Greenwald from his article “A Natural Selection” in AAA’s Jan/Feb 2015 Westways magazine issue: “Nearly 2 centuries after the 24 year old Charles Darwin stepped onto the Galapagos Islands, they’re still a global laboratory for the study of adaptation. In fact, everything about our planet, even its position in space is in constant flux, moving toward an unknown destiny.” We humans are the same. We change, evolve, grow and learn new ideas and ways to live, make a living, survive.
Clear blue waters expose playful dolphin pod. (photo by Bryce)
I don’t know what all of this change around me is teaching exactly: to be open to new possibilities, patience, resilience, to be adaptive to my environment, ‘to be prepared’ like a Girl Scout. I chose this new lifestyle knowing the changes in my life would be great. Now I simply have to adapt to the vastness of change and accept the inconstant as my constant without being disgruntled. Richard Henry Dana wrote in his book Two Years Before the Mast that you can’t get mad at the sea when it causes you to spill your lunch. You have to laugh at what the ocean throws at you, otherwise you’d maintain an angry state of mind. If you laugh, the uncomfortable makes for a much better story in the end.
Wednesday, May 6, 2015, 2:42 p.m. Universal Time Central UTC (Greenwich Meantime)
Ocean sunset between thunderheads. (photo by Eric)
We switched to Galapagos time yesterday morning to acclimate to the time change while sailing. We want to be ready to jump off the boat and start touring right away. After 17 days at sea, we will be eager to stretch our legs.
Leslie on the foredeck between rain days (photo by Eric)
Now five full days at sea, we are all getting into a rhythm of our own. Each one of us has had to come to terms with constant boat movement, tropical humidity and the hot sun beating down with a simple awning over the cockpit to provide shade. The slightest of exertion causes a person to sweat profusely. My face has never sweat so much in my life!
Bryce and Uncle Bill hang in the cockpit.
Sometimes the ocean is so calm that you can see over 25 feet down. Other times, the wind kicks up the seas and the surface is roiling. The swell seems to come from all directions in a confusing mishmash of waves. There is a small local swell created by the direction of the wind and then there is the large rolling swell that comes from far out to sea and looks like rolling hills approaching the boat. Today, we have both, the smaller ones coming from the Northeast and the large swell from the south.
Trent captures sleep between watches. (photo by Leslie)
Eric, who has substantially more experience sailing long passages says that after the third full day for most people nausea disappears and an ocean rhythm sets-in. Since I don’t remember much about my daily living experience when sailing from Hawaii to California for 25½ days when I was 23, it feels much like a new experience for me. Most assuredly, my expectations of comfort and cleanliness are different today compared to 25 years ago. When I was 23, I had just graduated with a BA and was ready to travel, to experience some adventure after all the studying and before working full time. The time commitment I faced was about 3 months. I was planning on finding work in my field of study in Los Angeles. Discomfort was not a big deal. A certain amount of boredom was a welcome friend filled by new companionship, early love, great literature, and forced rest. I didn’t even care that much about hygiene. Since the trip was finite, borrowed money would be paid back later once I got a job. In fact, I was responsible for taking care of myself, no one else.
Eric and Trent take advantage of nicer weather. (photo by Leslie)
Today’s experience is so much different. I am the food provider, responsible for the provisioning, determining the menu, prepping, cooking and generally the clean-up for 5 people three times a day. I am co-owner of the boat, responsible for its liability and the potential of losing it. Neither Eric nor I are earning an income. All expenses including boat repairs are paid out of our savings, so when things go wrong, we have to trouble shoot the problem and fix it or have it repaired or replaced. I take care of the bills/money and tax prep. I am a parent, worried about my sons’ physical and mental health along with being their teacher who moves them forward in their studies. I am also their playmate, playing games, watching movies, and hanging out with them. Being half responsible for their safety, I worry about them on the boat, when they are changing sails, taking watches, helping dad with repairs or when they get sick, their cleanliness. When they get hurt or anyone on the boat gets hurt, I am the nurse. I instigate or take care of laundry, cleaning the inside of the boat and making sure things are put away, picked-up. I also predominantly take care of the trash and waste. Then there is the sailing aspects: changing the sails with Eric when he needs me, which is often; doing my own watch; and taking care of myself. It is all so much more complicated with plans to sail much further than from Hawaii to California as a simple crew member on a boat.
Trent learns mathematics. (photo by Eric)
Perhaps, my concerns will mollify over time as I completely adopt the rhythm of the cruising lifestyle. These last months since departing Ventura on February 10th, we sailed quickly through California and Mexico. Even in the Galapagos, it will be a short visit of less than 20 days, and then we’ll be off again to the Marquesas for an estimated 25 days at sea. Eric assures me that we will be traveling around much more slowly once we’re in French Polynesia. Both he and I are looking forward to that.
Leslie uses bike cart to do late night provisioning in the Galapagos. (photo by Bill Kohut)
We left Paradise Village, Nuevo Vallarta on Friday, May 1st just past noon. We had wanted to depart for five days, but we simply couldn’t get our VHF radio to work properly until we finally installed the extra antenna Uncle Bill had brought for us as a back up. We determined after much trial and error, and Eric working at the top of the mast for hours, that the cabling and connectors running up the mast was not properly receiving and sending signal. In any case, due to miscommunication with customs concerning our intended day of departure, we had to wait another two days for an official to be available.
Kandu berthed at Paradise Village Marina in Nueva Vallarta (photo by Eric)
Before allowed to depart, Mexican customs officials requested to board our boat. We were a bit nervous as we had never hosted officials aboard our boat and didn’t know what to expect. We were not quite sure why they needed to come aboard since we were planning on leaving their country, perhaps to see if we had any drugs or large purchases unaccounted for that we needed to pay duty? On the day of our departure, Mexican customs officers pulled up in their boat around 9:45 a.m. Three officers arrived at our slip, two boarded the boat. They were interested to note how many of us were on board as they only counted three. The officers didn’t see the boys initially as Bryce and Trent were quietly holed up in the fo’c’s’le, the forward part of the boat. Everything was conducted in Spanish. Eric did all the talking since we decided ahead of time not to engage in small talk to avoid giving the agents any extra information beyond what they needed. One agent handled the paperwork; another asked Eric to open a food cabinet, clothing drawers, and the large engine room. All was on the up and up with the exception of Uncle Bill’s customs entry papers. When Bill had passed through customs at the airport two weeks prior, the agents there required he open all the boxes of spare parts and special items that he had brought for us. In the confusion of identifying items (the chai tea bags looked like potential drugs and the green chlorella powder (algae) looked ‘suspicious’ even though it was sealed shut), his immigration permit paper was lost. Fortunately Bill’s passport was stamped with date of entry and we had the receipts for the duty we paid. Eventually an hour and 15 minutes later, after the agent had taken pictures of all the papers and receipts, and had called the office for approval to clear without an important document, they handed us our international clearance zarpe (document) and allowed Kandu to depart. We left within the next hour. Didn’t want to take any chances that the officials would come back!
Last sight of land, leaving Mexico for Galapagos (photo by Eric)
We were more than ready. Having planned to leave several days prior, were it not for the VHF radio and customs officials’ schedules, we stayed days longer than intended. All the fresh provisions that I had bought the week earlier at Walmart and at the market were now getting old. The food was not yet rotting, but I knew that I wouldn’t be able to keep the fresh fruit & vegetables longer than another 5-6 days during the passage. Good thing Kandu has a small freezer and the dry food lockers were loaded with lots of canned and dried-stored options like beans and rice. As it was, during the voyage, much food spoiled before it could be eaten and the last week of sailing, all the fresh fruit and vegetables were gone. Canned pineapple and frozen green beans sufficed. Ms. Kandu Chef was very happy to finally arrive in the Galapagos to restock with fresh choices: papaya, pineapple, apples, onions, broccoli, chicken, yogurt, and bread! I baked banana bread, cookies and a cake along the way, but couldn’t muster baking bread.
Leslie as we come into Cedros Island after two nights at sea.
I woke up slowly this morning having gone through a night of watches. Sleeping on a moving boat and being responsible for that boat is not relaxing. Even at anchor with a steady wind blowing, I have not been sleeping soundly. My ears, nose and motion sensors are all actively accessing the situation – constantly. The night before, early on, there was a crashing “BOOOOM.” Our telescoping spinnaker pole broke. The extension or telescoping section could not support the tension of the outstretched genoa and crashed back in. Fortunately, it was during Eric’s own watch, so he dealt with it.
9:10 pm. It is still Easter Sunday, but the day has darkened outside. I’m on the first watch from 8:00 p.m. until 10, then I will repeat a watch early in the morning from 4:00-6:00 a.m. The moon is just rising. It is an eerie yellow full moon. The wind is coming from dead downwind. Once again, it is not coming from a great direction for Kandu. We’re trying to conserve fuel, so no motoring right now. We are also trying to see what it’s like to use less energy.
Much of my on-land and sea days are involved in keeping the family fed and watered…and then cleaning-up. This morning, because it was Easter, and due to the calm sea situation, I felt inspired to make pancakes served with applesauce. The boys requested chocolate chip pancakes. We did not have an Easter egg hunt as they had hoped, so chocolate pancakes it was! Instead of an Easter church service, I decided to acknowledge the day with a morning full of Easter music: Handel’s Messiah and later Sylvia McNair singing Exsultate Jubilate. It was glorious music to hear while floating along in the middle of the ocean.
Bryce and Trent on watch.
We are a little speck moving on a massive waterway with no land in sight. Most of the time I do not allow myself to think about the possibilities of what could go wrong. But I catch myself at different times of the day, everyday, taking account of our rather precarious situation. We are so alone, out in foreign waters, watching the radar, paying close attention to the sea patterns, the wind, the provisions, the amount of water and propane being consumed, the direction (navigation), and keeping tabs on the general mental health of the crew.
After cleaning up breakfast, we all had some quiet time. I listened closely to Handel while playing a bit of Sudoku; the guys worked on the rigging. Dad taught Bryce how to seize the ends of the lines and ropes, offering him a dollar per end seized. I asked how to do it also and helped with six or seven ends. There are always ends of rope that need attention.
I brought out knives to sharpen in anticipation of catching a fish! Bryce put out the trolling lines, in hopes of snagging some unsuspecting tuna, to no avail. Since it was Easter, I wanted to make sure to prepare delicious meals, well balanced and as fresh as possible. For lunch, I prepared a cucumber, tomato, red onion and feta type cheese salad served with crackers and smoked tuna that we had bought at the Ensenada fish market. It was light and tasty.
Looking through my “Boat Galley Cookbook,” I tried to figure out what kind of fun desert I could make. Bryce decided to bake cookies. He was excited to eat a fresh tasting dessert. Eric doesn’t eat added sugar foods anymore, so I often refrain from baking sweets out of respect for his choice. But with two boys around, they do want to enjoy fresh sweets from time to time. Easter seemed the perfect time to make it happen.
Aside from baking cookies, during much of the afternoon, the boys and I played games starting with checkers, then one of our favorite card games: Rummy. We really enjoy ourselves with that game. We were even able to play outside because the wind and swell were not powerful.
I got a chance to read a bit while Eric worked with the boys on trouble shooting the sump pump for the aft shower. Then it was time for dinner preparations: boiled potatoes, grilled Mexican bacon wrapped hotdogs, and romaine salad with shredded carrots, red onions, celery, topped with our favorite dressing: ‘Annie’s Shitake Sesame.’ All these fresh foods today were quite luxurious since our fresh salad supplies will only remain through tomorrow. We are down to one fresh egg, 3 boiled eggs, 2 oranges and some limes. The rest of the passage will be canned fruit and frozen vegetables along with pastas, beans and rice. Tomorrow we’ll eat bean soup from yesterday’s large pot that I made in advance while in Bahia Maria.
Baja sand souvenir
Yesterday, I got a bit overwhelmed with the idea of cooking and providing for 5 people 3 times per day for many days on end when we travel to the Galapagos and then onward to the Tuamotus. I have got to create some future menus in advance for our long passages so the task doesn’t overcome me.
9:50 p.m. My first watch of the night is almost over. It’s been a long day with no nap. Winds are holding generally from one direction. This is important to note before handing off the watch to Trent. If the winds were to have changed, then I would have had to wake Eric to reset the sails; I still defer to him at the moment. As it is, the wind is blowing at about 10-11 knots, but we’re only going about 3.8 to 4 knots because the sails are not capturing efficiently.
A little prayer before I turn over the watch to Trent: “Thank you Lord for our easy sailing south, our solid boat, fair winds and seas. I am grateful for our safe travels. Thank you on this most important day that we remember Jesus’s sacrifice for us. We are blessed…in Jesus’s name I pray, Amen.”
Ensenada Church while strolling on errands.
Leslie Dennis Rigney
Post script: today we plan to sail 15 days to the Galapagos from Puerto Vallarta, Mexico. Uncle Bill is going us.
Islas Cedros to Isla Natividad to Bahia Tortugas, Mexico3-28-15 Saturday afternoon, a week and a day before Easter
Kandu anchored in the clear waters of Northeastern Cedros Island.
I’m having a delightfully calm afternoon and evening/overnighter at the northeastern tip of Islas Cedros, a larger island in the region. The southern part of the island is busy with industry: grinding fish into fertilizer and bagging it (smells are evidently overpowering), and processing sea salt. It is also know as a smuggler’s destination – a stop-off for boats heading north from mainland Mexico to ports further north.
Northern point of Cedros anchorage.
To avoid problems ranging from theft to being boarded by island police, we anchor on the opposite side of the island, in the more protected of the two northeastern anchorages, just south of a very small fish camp. It is an idyllically calm spot, having just cruised 48-hours straight for the first time, and getting rolled about by muddled seas like a cat in a clothes dryer. The anchorage is a known seal rookery – perhaps why no other boats are here. The noises emanating from hundreds of seals, ranging from large, female elephant seals to smaller sea lions are downright spooky. They sound human: coughing, childlike screams, cat cries, and usual barks. I find so much enjoyment watching and staring at them through binoculars. I witness a mother sea lion swimming up to shore, barking a few commands. Her baby, covered in molting fuzz, hurtles toward her. They play in the water then together hobble up shore. Lifting her back fin, the little tyke nurses while she watches on, guarding against potentially invading males. She is definitely a young beauty, often chased.
Molting seal pups on CedrosThree “Drowning” LadiesThis could get ugly….
The large female elephant seals slumber the entire afternoon, sandwiched tight against each other. I watch four in particular. Occasionally one opens her eyes to check us out or opens her mouth to yawn, showing her gaping red maw. As the tide rises, the frequent lapping seaboard douses their faces, pointing toward the water’s edge. For over an hour these huge monoliths continue to lie in the same positions, moving their noses out of the water to breath…very entertaining to watch. Eventually one of them decides she’s had enough of being slowly suffocated. She wiggles free from the other behemoths. The remaining three indicate their displeasure by barking and gaping their mouths threateningly. Eventually another starts to move as well. The two seem close friends. Once they finally waddle their way to shallow waters, they play and kiss and nuzzle each other for another hour before eventually lumbering off into deeper waters and disappear.
Bryce ready for some snorkeling actionTrent’s in!So is Dad…
Immediately after anchoring, chores are completed. Then Bryce dons his wetsuit, demanding to enjoy the water. I am nervous for him, going in the water alone with so many large seals nearby. Eric digs out his spring wetsuit, fins, and snorkel, and despite the chill, slips his way, ever so slowly, into the clear, but still cold water. Trent is right behind. The open sore on my knee forbids me from joining them. The three of them head out to get a closer look at the seals, their own little school. All goes well. The seals keep their distance. Dad exits the water, but Bryce and Trent continue to play in the water for another couple hours. Some toddler seals come over to play with them. Dad even sets-up the rope swing for the boys. Having enough of the swing, Bryce and Trent then capture their follies on their waterproof GoPro video cameras. As evening approaches, I allow myself to enjoy a glass of wine and provide Eric a Guinness that I chilled especially for today with grilled bacon-wrapped Mexican hotdogs and sliced cucumbers. It is a well deserved relaxing and overall lovely day, not to mention the benefits of a full night’s sleep at this wonderfully calm anchorage.
