Samoa was a great place to visit. We visited Apia, capital city on the island of Upolu, the smaller of the two islands. The other island is called Savai’i, a bit like Hawai’i. Samoa used to be called Western Samoa to be different from ‘American Samoa.’ ‘American Samoa’ is an American overseas territory. The people of Samoa voted their country name to be simply ‘Samoa’ when it became it’s own country, independent, no longer a protectorate of New Zealand. In Apia, they have great restaurants and really nice people. The food in Samoa is much cheaper than in Tahiti and the people were always smiling. Not much Wi-Fi in Samoa but they have great surf and exciting new things to do.
There are all kinds of special natural wonders on Upolu all owned by different villages. In order to visit these sites, instead of paying a national park fee, you pay the family or village who owns and maintains the site. We got to visit the Papase’ea Sliding Rocks, the To Sua Ocean Trench, and the Piula Cave Pool.
The Papase’ea Sliding Rocks was mind blowing. We asked locals how to get down to the slides just to make sure we wouldn’t get hurt. There were over a hundred well-maintained stairs to walk down. It was a hot day, so there were already a lot of people visiting the falls and slides. Dad asked a local how to slide down the rock. He went first, then I went, Bryce and mom last. It took some time for her to gather her courage. After awhile having slid a lot, Bryce and I went over to the waterfall. I went under and it felt like I was getting a massage. It was the best natural rock slide I’ve ever slid on. We all had a lot of fun.
To Sua Ocean Trench, Upolu, Samoa
The To Sua Trench was nothing I’ve ever seen before. When I saw it, it looked like a big blue hole in the ground. The sides were covered in vines and plants. It was located next to the ocean with what looked like pretty good surf swell. To get down into the water hole, we walked down some stairs then climbed down a ladder made out of huge trees. You can jump off the ladder at whatever height you want (no rules) then swim into the connecting cave. It was lightly raining, not cold though. Bryce and I jumped and swam to our hearts content in the refreshing fresh water.
View from the cliffside next to To Sua Ocean Trench. Could have been good surf!
Another day we got to swim again in cold, fresh water at Piula Cave Pool located on the north side of the island, also right next to the ocean. When you go deep in the cave where it’s dark, your body turns blue. It might turn blue because the water was super clean, or because the rock ceiling dripped water minerals in the water. It sparkled in the sun. There were two caves and we heard they were connected by a small opening that you could swim through, but the passage was dark and under the water so you would’ve had to hold your breath all the way to the other side. We didn’t have a light and a mask, so we didn’t go.
Piula Cave Pools, Upolu, Samoa
We had a great day visiting ‘The Samoan Cultural Center’ to learn about different aspects of Samoan culture. First, a trio of men danced a Samoan paddle dance.
It was much tamer than Marquesian and Tahitian dancing. It wasn’t a war dance as the three men dancing were all smiling. A woman danced too, but all she seemed to move were her arms, hardly any hip and leg movement.
After the dance, the performers treated us to a kava ceremony and explained, back when they were cannibals, if they didn’t give you a kava ceremony they would eat you. Next up, we walked to see real tattooing in progress. Samoan artists like using their old wooden tools, but in an upgraded style. They used to attach shark teeth on a stick, but now they use stainless steel combs. We got to see them tattooing on two Samoan men. It looked very painful. Every Samoan guy has the same tattoo in the same spot. For Samoan men, it’s their dream to get this tattoo, but if you start and then stop because it’s too painful, you disgrace your family. The session goes for an hour a day for six days. Lastly, we went to see how you could make clothing and artwork from bark. You cut off a branch from a specific tree, and carefully remove the bark. Then they separate the outside of the bark from the inside layer. After, you get two shells, one that is a little sharp and one that isn’t. After you’re done scrapping the bark, it’s six times the size. They stretch it out with rock as weights and let it dry. They dry it in shade letting the wind and air dry it because the sun dries it too fast.
Samoa has some great surf, but you have to pay to surf. Families own surf sites, which I don’t think is right. You can’t own a part of an ocean! Samoa is a Christian place so you can’t surf on Sundays. There are some surf resorts in Samoa and they pay to get permission from the families to go surfing, but they can only allow 12 people to surf at a time. We went to a resort and made an arrangement to surf on the following Monday morning. The spot was an hour and ½ away from our boat, and we wanted to catch the first boat out leaving early from shore at 6:30 am. So we woke up at 4:30 to drive over to the other side of the island and the surfer guide said we couldn’t go surfing with them. He said it in a really mean and aggressive way. We left and searched for another way to paddle out to the surf later that same day. When we arrived, that surf guide was frustrated we were there.
Internet photo of Salani reef
It’s said that Samoa and Tonga are where all the Polynesians came from and that the islands form a triangle in the Pacific from New Zealand in the west, to Hawaii to the north and Easter Island at the eastern corner and all the French Polynesia islands are in the triangle. Rapa Nui is the island where the performers wear the least amount of clothing when they dance. Performers in French Polynesia and Hawaii wear similar clothing, using grass and leaves, coconut shells and pareos. In New Zealand, dancers wear warmer outfits sometimes with fake animals skins. It’s cold in New Zealand even in summer.I loved the rockslide and the trench. Bryce and I had a great day surfing the Salani reef. I loved how Samoa, being next to ‘America Samoa,’ had my favorite chips that we’ve not found anywhere else: Spicy Hot Cheetos. We were going to tour Savai’i but immigration would only let us check out from Apia and dad didn’t want to sail back against the wind. After just one week only, we left to Fiji.
6-4-2017, Tuesday 23h15 – About Musket Cove and the surf.
Now on watch, I have a bit of time to recount some of our adventures in Musket Cove. From Suva, the most southeastern city of the island Viti Levu, we wanted to head west to the Western Mamanuca Islands and the renowned Musket Cove Marina and Yacht Club. With an obligatory $5 processing fee, we each became lifetime members. The Mamanuca Islands of Fiji are central to some of the best surfing in the world, boasting the legendary Cloudbreak, rated one of the top 10 waves in the world. Incidentally, the International Volcom Fiji Pro Surf Competition happened to be in full swing. As we were sailing up to Cloudbreak, we could see the hubbub and gathered boats, onlookers and surfers so we anchored the boat and hurriedly rigged up the dinghy for the boys to get close and check out the quality surf and male competitors. Bryce and Trent were ordered to be back by 15h00. Sure enough, they returned on time bubbling over with excitement, ready to haul-up anchor in order to make Musket Cove and its protection from the open ocean swell before sunset. We had a small glitch raising the anchor. The anchor, 50+ feet below, with a strong current was likely stuck on corral. Bryce quickly donned his mask and fins and dove overboard. With one hand on the chain and the other to clear his ears, he free dived as close as he could get. On his first attempt, he couldn’t get close enough to see the problem. Eric told him he didn’t have to get to the anchor, just see what it was doing. The second time, after relaxing and getting a solid breath, he plunged down the anchor chain again, determined to succeed. Once down, he realized exactly how the tip of the anchor was stuck. Under his directions, we motored forward over the corral head and with a strong tug, the anchor came free. Whew! Bryce saved the day!
This is the Cloudbreak wave that we saw. It can get much much larger.
Easily anchored in popular Musket Cove, we stayed put for a quiet dinner on board. Bryce was the only one who ventured out to the marina resort with the dinghy that night to try and learn how to taxi over to the various surf spots: Swimming Pools, Tavarua Rights, Second Reef, Wilkes, Restaurants and Cloudbreak. The next day, we organized a boat and I went with the boys that first afternoon. That day, our goal was Cloudbreak, but the weather was so rough and windy that we decided to stop at a closer spot called Wilkes.
The next couple times, Eric went with them to videotape. Each time it was our own private taxi boat, a little costly, but worth it, in case one spot was blown out, they could then go over to another. In all, the boys got to surf Wilkes again, Second Reef and Cloudbreak. Normally during the competition, the Cloudbreak wave would have been off limits to non-competitors, but when the competition was paused four days to wait for bigger waves, it presented perfect conditions for Bryce and Trent, so they headed over. While surfing, Bryce recognized his favorite pro surfer, Gabriel Martinez. Bryce paddled over and shook his hand. Cool beans! Eric was there video taping. Hopefully they got some good shots. Haven’t yet looked at all the media. After Fiji, the boys won’t be getting much opportunity to surf, so we really supported them to get out to the reefs everyday. Trent too had great success surfing. Bryce constantly encouraged him, which made for a happy Trent. The boys got in 4 days of great surfing.
We forgot to collect sand, darnit. I’ll have to contact Kurt Roll, a surfer/sailor/drone flier ex-patriot who lives on a modern south pacific style studio hut-boat in the Musket cove Marina. He took the boys surfing one afternoon. Maybe he’ll collect some sand for us and mail it back to Ventura for our growing collection. Every place the boys surf, we commemorate it with a vial of sand.
We also met some Danish sailors, a couple and family of 4 with 2 sons of similar age. I approached them for a game of beach volleyball. We played together a couple times and enjoyed a couple BBQ dinners and happy hours together. The father was a minister. We had much to talk about and share. Eric had recognized their sailboat from the Papeete Marina the summer before. It was lovely to meet such culturally interesting people.
The Musket Cove Resort was gorgeous and high class. We felt so spoiled being able to enjoy it without having to pay the high daily resort fees. We even got a chance to walk to the adjacent island during low tide to visit a nearby local Solevu village and school. The central village buildings were solidly constructed in cement blocks. The outlying thatch homes and structures were similar to the Polynesian style – open without glass windows. The villagers were friendly and the children at play were full of smiles and polite ‘hellos.’ Bryce had a great time amusing two little boys giving them piggy-back rides and playing ‘Catch me if you can.’ The walk back across the pass was a bit more challenging. Up to my thighs in water, I sloshed back as quickly as possible conscious of the ever rising tide and wanting to keep my clothes away from the salty water….laundry is always a consideration, of course!
Lautoka, Viti Levu, Fiji Sugar Cane Plant.
6-4-2017 To Lautoka, Viti Levu from Musket Cove.
Departed Musket Cove and headed back to the main island of Fiji, Viti Levu to anchor outside the east coast city, Lautoka, to provision and check-out of Fijian customs and immigration. Lautoka is a sugar-cane oceanside town, less important than Suva. It is quite modern with a brand new shopping mall sporting many fancy shops, a restaurant court and a fancy movie theater. The downtown was large with a McDonald’s, several gas stations and well-paved streets. Apparently a Hawaiian owns all the McDonald’s in Fiji. After provisioning one afternoon, the boys and I hired a taxi to carry our many bags of groceries back to the boat and asked the taxi driver to give us a quick city tour. He brought us to a couple colorful Indian temples, drove us through nice residential areas and passed by the very large sugar cane plant. There were lines of trucks loaded with long poles of sugar cane waiting to enter. The air smelled sweet surrounding the factory. Kandu was anchored just opposite that factory and the exterior of our boat became immediately dusted from the filthy black soot blowing across the water from its hot fires.
Today, deep down in my soul, I really understand the idiomatic expression “Don’t cry over spilled milk.” I thought I did when I was raising my boys. So often, the two toddlers would be sitting at their miniature dining table while I was serving them lunch and all of a sudden, a plate would accidentally be overturned onto the floor, or a glass of milk precariously situated would get knocked over. On earlier occasions I flipped out and yelled at them, but as they grew-up I found it easier to quickly bring over a rag and clean up the mess. Less stress, less commentary, less noise. After all, it was an accident. They knew their mistake and already felt badly. With my outward show of calmness, I also felt like I was growing-up as a parent, learning patience and feeling an adult sense of satisfaction that I was better handling ups and downs.
Remaining eggs and those saved of the 3 dozen or more.
Wherever or whenever the expression “Don’t cry over spilled milk” was born, I imagine it might have been on a family farm perhaps during a South Dakota winter where we’ll presume a young maiden or mother, rather starved, had woken very early on a frigid morning to go milk the cow for breakfast. She walks to the barn through the snow remembering this time to bring the cleaned bucket with her, sat herself down on little stool, and got hit in the face by the tail a few times while filling the bucket. She makes sure to give the cow some more hay before leaving. She almost slips on the ice as she walks back into the cottage, yet catches herself and safely places the milk on the dining table. As she is preparing to cut the half of loaf of bread they have leftover from the day before, her two young sons enter the room roughhousing. Inadvertently, the bucket of milk is knocked over. Now – I can imagine crying over that milk. No warm milk for breakfast to add to the meager bread, and the morning’s work was a waste. But what does it serve to cry?
Kandu and crew departed Lautoka, Fiji yesterday afternoon – Monday. It was a busy morning. Eric had to clear the boat out of customs and immigration, the boys and I had to get the three 15-gallon diesel jugs and one gas can filled at the gas station, all carted ashore in the dinghy along with our folding aluminum Kandu cart. I needed to get some last minute fresh food provisions that we hadn’t found over the weekend because most of the stores were closed and I wanted to try one more time to obtain some Vanuatu money, Vata, so we’d have some before arriving. I paid for the diesel and it was agreed we’d all meet at McDonald’s before returning to Kandu. Eggs, lemons, pineapples, ginger ale and Indian tonic water for nausea, a Bic lighter to ignite mosquito coils, a flea bomb (Eric discovered a flea trying to bite him onboard, ugh!) and money – off I walked hurriedly to town. After trying several stores, I gave up on the Bic and flea bomb. I enjoyed a hurried stroll through their outdoor market, where I found the fresh foods. Neither bank nor money exchange carried Vata. I carried back all the purchases in bags to McDonald’s, which then were carted and lowered into the dinghy and then up onboard and into Kandu’s galley.
The dinghy and boat exteriors were filthy due to the soot carried over the water from the sugar cane processing plant. The boys proceeded to rinse them both, store the dinghy, and prepare to leave as I vacuumed the interior and cockpit. Everything in the galley was cleaned, carefully stored and arranged for heavy movement…including my large basket of specially sought after eggs that I considered a bit like treasure. We pulled anchor and departed around noon, stopping briefly in a nearby fancy port, Denarau, to pick-up a new prop for our 9.9 hp outboard motor that had recently broken. We threw off docklines around 17h00. It was getting on dinnertime. Quickly I fried up lamb sausages and boiled yams before we exited the calmer water of the lagoon. Leaving the shelter of the reef, that’s when the swell picks up. As predicted, the night proved to be another “Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride,” bumpy, moving up and down, side to side as we were sailing between a broad reach and downwind. My watch went without a hitch, although I was exhausted when Trent summoned me not having been able to sleep beforehand (I always take the second watch). Two and half hours later, Bryce relieved me of my watch, and two and half hours after that, Eric, his. That’s when I awoke to Eric yelling, “Bryce, Bryce, come back here quickly, the wind vane isn’t steering properly.” The boat was flailing around and that’s when it must have happened. I didn’t hear it, but the egg basket let loose and two-and-a-half dozen eggs crashed, leaving a terrible mess in its wake. Bryce having finished helping Eric had since come down into the galley. I heard him exclaim, “Wow, it’s a lot of eggs! What a mess!” which brought me out of my bed into the galley. It was a mess. Broken eggs all over the counter, yolks and whites streaming into my topside icebox and refrigerator. Eggshells and slime on the stove, under the stove, on the floor, in the sink. All the places I had scrupulously cleaned beforehand were now slimy and sticky from my shattered treasure. I started to wipe up the goo, but after a few moments, I simply couldn’t bear the cleanup and the loss (the money, the time to purchase and transport, plus the plans I had for those eggs). I returned to my aft nest to cry so that I wouldn’t make a scene throwing things and hollering expletives in the galley like I have been known to do.
Lying there and reflecting, while Bryce on his own accord sweetly started the cleanup, I realized that it’s good to take a moment to step away, to calm your emotions and thoughts before reacting. I can easily be reactionary when stressed. Certainly, broken eggs are not the end of the world. What was egg-ceptional was my son stepping in and helping tidy up the greater part of the wreckage. My stepping away, gave him a chance to save the day. Bryce is a good egg. As far as broken eggs are concerned, omletting it go.
I have enjoyed keeping in touch with you through our Delorme texting. It’s a perfect way since connecting to Wi-Fi is so limited.
I came down with a little cold – so have been careful to eat well, drink lots of water with lemon, and get plenty of rest to recover as quickly as possible. We are presently hanging out in Musket Cove, Fiji in the Mamanuca Islands.
It’s an idyllic spot – the very first Fijian resort – but we’re here specifically for the surf. A couple internationally famous surf spots drew us to this area (Cloudbreak and Restaurants) and by accident we happened on the annual international Fijian surf competition presently being held at Cloudbreak. Bryce and Trent got to surf the famous Cloudbreak today with some star surfers…Bryce paddled over to one he recognized and shook his hand.
This is the Cloudbreak wave that we saw. It can get much much larger. This is the size that Bryce and Trent surfed.
It’s a very pretty, clean, and high class resort here at Musket Cove. I was able to wash our laundry in a real laundromat. It seems that two loads (darks and lights) wash and dry is a universal US$20. Plus, at the resort we benefit from hot showers! It’s been quite awhile since we’ve enjoyed hot showers.
Dick’s Place at Musket Cove Resort, Fiji.
Yesterday we met a Danish family with two teenagers similar ages to BnT who are traveling Fiji on a sailboat. We played a GREAT 2-hours of beach volleyball and then all went over for happy hour beers at the outdoor spot Dick’s while the boys swam in the adjacent pool. They returned to their boat and we, ours. The boys decided to make: dinner by themselves: gnocchi pesto and tomato-cucumber salad. I loved it! Today, I rewarded them on their return from surfing (they left at 5:30 am) with a fresh-baked chocolate cake. Tonight we intend to BBQ over at the resort, New Zealand lamb chops and lamb sausages. We bring our own food and the resort provides plates and the use of a grill for US$2.00. We’re excited.
Island Bar/BBQ at Musket Cove Resort, Fiji.
It’s much cooler here in Fiji…well it is considered winter, but here in the dry Mamanuca Islands of Western Fiji, there is little rain, so we have the hatches and port lights wide open (hardly any mosquitos). The guys get so chilled at night in the front & middle section of the boat, that they crawl into their sheets and use blankets to keep warm. It’s a welcome change from Polynesia. In the aft cabin where I’m sleeping, I too use a blanket and am even wearing my longer pajamas considering I’m always the hottest these days! It’s delightful not to be constantly sweating and dripping.
Tomorrow we will start taking the antibiotic Doxycycline that will protect us against malaria. There are several choices, but we chose this particular antibiotic because it helps with acne. I’m hoping it will help clear up our skin. We will have to take the antibiotic for about 9 months from Vanuatu until we sail away from Sri-Lanka. There is one drawback. We will have to be extra careful to protect our skin against the sun as it makes skin more sensitive to sun damage.
Doxicyclene to counter Malaria. We call them our robin eggs.
We pulled-up anchor to depart Suva, the capital of Fiji, late this afternoon at sunset around 5:30 pm. Eric estimates our arrival at Musket Cove Marina (surf extraordinaire!) around 2:00 pm tomorrow. The sky was gently crying in anticipation of our departure. The guys did a bang-up job getting the topside ready in the wetness. There was much to do: rinse the small outboard with fresh water, hoist ‘Wee Kandu,’ our dinghy, up on deck, tie it down, move our larger 10 horse outboard engine to the aft stanchion fitting (it was straining the mast pulpit where it sat previously), set-up the lines to sail and prep the cockpit. Bryce and Trent’s hands and minds are remembering what to do without having to be directed. It’s terrific that I don’t have to prep both topside and down below too. Always when living aboard, things are pulled-out to use and then not put back in their designated places. The laundry hadn’t yet been stowed; groceries needed to be organized and dishes required washing and stowage. It’s quite the preparation. But if everyone does his or her part, it can be relatively quick.
Due to our latest experiences departing into rolling seas, we all swallowed anti-nausea, seasickness medicine earlier in the day around lunchtime. We are all benefiting immensely from having taken the precaution.
9:30 pm – Ohh – the rain and wind have picked-up. It’s a soggy night, but had we waited, the weather & conditions were only going to worsen. Happily, our hard dodger is providing more than sufficient shelter to hide behind out of the wind and most of the wetness. I’m not wearing a raincoat as it’s not cold, although my bottom is soaked through. On nights like this, along with our doubly equipped lifejacket/harness, we wear a tether line attached to a solidly anchored cockpit ring. After two and ½ years of use, our poor lifejackets have unfortunately developed spots of black mold. I cleaned them well before leaving Raiatea with soap, water, vinegar and anti-mold spray to no avail. Evidently, I wasn’t able to eliminate all the mold spores that insist on living. The jackets look quite nasty and smell worse. I’ll have to try and clean them again. Ugh! At US$250 a pop, they are worth not replacing. Plenty of other things to spend our money on.
Friendly supermarket employees.
With time to reflect, I think back on our recent experience. Suva is a small city bursting with energy. There are taxis galore with friendly drivers. All the people we met, Fijian and East Indian, were cordial and helpful. “Bula-bula.” I felt welcome. Eric had heard that the population was instructed to be friendly and helpful to tourists to encourage tourism. Well, their outward enthusiasm affected all of us positively. Someday, if the opportunity were to arise, I would love to visit again.
Bryce Rigney at the entrance of Village 6 Cinemas in Suva, Fiji.
The city of Suva is the most attractive city we’ve seen out of all the islands we’ve visited so far, perhaps because its movie theatre was modern and clean….lol. Like in Samoa, we were so starved for a modern film experience that we attended movies every evening since there was nothing else going on and the ticket price was a mere $4.00 USD per person. We enjoyed seeing great Bollywood films along with international box office hits: Wonder Woman, Pirates of the Caribbean, and the very silly Bay Watch. Bollywood theatergoers seemed especially amused by our presence, almost giggling as our family entered the cinema chamber and found our seat assignments, as if they thought we were lost, surprised even more so that we returned after the obligatory Bollywood intermission. We thoroughly enjoyed Suva’s East Indian cultural influence in clothing, work ethic, and on the delicious food flavored with Indian spices, although it’s typically quite salty.
Suva was also one of the most plentiful and resourceful of cities we’ve visited. Eric was even able to replace our shattered cockpit dodger window with Safety E glass, matching what was lost. Just as with the rest of Fiji, the glass cutting was immediate and inexpensive. One USD equals two Fijian.
Taro galore!
The outdoor vegetable market offered a large selection of beautiful and proudly displayed seasonal foods: pineapples and mandarin oranges were the most plentiful and succulent. Unfortunately, their grapefruits were dry and terrible: nothing like Polynesia’s succulent ‘pomplemouse.’ Lots of okra, huge yam roots, taro, cucumbers, papaya, eggs, cabbage, bok choi, green beans, carrots, celery, and delicious drinking coconuts were for sale. The fishermen offered a variety of small and large fish, green crabs of all sizes, sea grass, sea grapes, clams and lobsters. It was a cornucopia of plenty. With so many choices of fresh foods to eat, the population looked healthy and fit with bright, naturally straight teeth.
Salty sea grapes traditionally served with grated coconut.
Yesterday, on our last day, Bryce and I stocked up on the many fresh selections at the market plus stopped in a local store to pick-up bread and boxed milk. Thank goodness I had a helper to help carry the many shopping bags. Feeling it would not be convenient to walk our folding aluminum cart into the city center, we instead hired a taxi from and to the Royal Suva Yacht Club where our dinghy was docked. It was a five-minute dinghy ride to Kandu, anchored with other sailboats in the murky bay. Our 10hp outboard having developed a problem with its propeller the night before, we were relegated to use our slower and noisier 3hp. At least it was downwind.
Rigneyskandu posing outside the National Fijian Chief Hall where chieftains meet to discuss local policies.
And finally, Suva is where Eric, before leaving Raiatea, found that the US Embassy would be willing to allow a commercial courier to ship our boys’ renewed passports to his brother in Sydney. Samoa would not, and no other location would be as convenient as Fiji or Samoa. Suva’s newly constructed US Embassy was pristine and heavily guarded. The guards at the guard station joked with Trent that they’d play on his DS while he was inside. Leaving, Eric joked, “Even the fountain water tastes American!”
Wednesday, May 10, 2017 – Back on the blue. We had an exceptional time in Maupiha’a (Mopelia). The dinner we shared with Norma and Harris was absolutely delicious. It started out with a home-brewed aperitif made from leavening, water and lychee fruit, aged over three months. Incredibly tasty! We should have gotten the recipe! We then enjoyed a coconut palm heart salad, seasoned rice with home grown green beans and as much lobster and coconut crab as we could eat, perfectly cooked and seasoned. The coconut crab was my favorite as I had never seen or experienced it before. Then dessert was a delicious fruit salad of papaya, banana, and coconut shavings served with chocolate cake that we brought.
Coconut crab served for dinner.
The boys opted out of the cake if you can believe it, because they had previously set-up their tent and bedding for a campout on coconut crab motu. With the setting sun, they needed to zoom away before they could no longer see the coral obstacles! We didn’t hear from them again until morning, but we worried terribly, as a nasty storm blew in just after Eric and I returned back to the boat after dinner, rocking the boat violently all night long.
Here is Bryce’s recount of that crazy night: “Trent and I set-up our tent and bedding while there was plenty of sun before dinner. We returned to the crab-inhabited motu after dinner at sundown with the dinghy. We made sure to tie securely the dinghy to a tree in order not to lose it or we would have in BIG trouble. From the beach, we walked back to the tent on our way collecting firewood as there were dead trees everywhere. I used the skills that I had learned while camping with friends in Raiatea: how to collect palm fronds and turn them into bundles of fire starting material. With dry leaves collected from under a big tree and piled over rocks made into a hill, unlike in survivor, I started the fire with a bic. Then we added sticks and palm fronds over that. Once ignited, it burned hot. I turned on my little boombox to calm our nerves about the possible invasion of crabs that we had been warned about during dinner…we were a tad bit nervous. We looked for more firewood to last the night and prayed that it wouldn’t rain. As Trent was collecting firewood, I heard, “Oh my God!” coming from Trent’s direction. “Bryce, Bryce, LOOK, there’s one of those crabs!” The body was the size of a man’s hand lengthwise. It was dark blue in color – they only turn red when they’re cooked. The legs made it look enormous. So I grabbed my machete and forcibly pushed it away as a warning so it wouldn’t come nearer to our camp. The crab was not aggressive, just curious. He quickly scuttled away. We saw three of them in total, but after we scared the first one away, the others didn’t approach. I think we were camped close to the first crab’s nest. It became very dark, so we scrambled inside the tent to play cribbage. We started to fall asleep, when we heard sprinkling rain. Trent said, “Gee, I hope our tent is waterproof!?!” Then it started to rain harder. We felt a couple drips, but thought, “Oh, we’ll be fine.” A little later, we spread out our feet and felt water. Water had started to pour into the side of our tent. Thank goodness Mom had the idea to bring mats to sleep on. As it was we were getting soaked. Then the wind picked up and it started to rain harder. The top of our tent, even covered with a fly, dripped constantly. At about 2 in the morning, we thought about going back since the rain had stopped, but then it started raining in force again. We slept poorly, wet and cold, huddled together soaked on our somewhat dry mats. Of course, our fire was drenched. Up at sunrise, we quickly packed-up and returned to Kandu. Mom and Dad were relieved to see us and the dinghy in tact! Evidently they had worried about us all night long.”
The next morning, due to not getting quality sleep, the boys slept on the boat while Norma and Harris took Eric and me on a ride in their four wheeler to the other end of the atoll. The men rode in the front cab while Norma and I enjoyed a pleasant outdoor air ride in the back lounging on a wooden loveseat. At the end of the driveable atoll, we met a couple that hailed from a family that had lived on the atoll the longest. Along with harvesting copra, they raised pigs. Their living quarters were simple, yet tidy. The 4 pigs were all females and babies; the males had already been harvested. Fresh off the tree drinking coconuts were offered all around…what incredible hospitality.
Norma, Harris and their lovely friends.
Making our back to chez Norma and Harris, Harris stopped off to determine a good small palm tree to harvest for eating. It was amazing how he chopped down and then stripped the outer bark to expose the soft inner whites of the interior…palm heart. The palm heart Harris offered us was enormous, the size of a T-Rex bone. It tasted sweet with a delicate flavor of coconut, bien sur!
5/10/2017 10 pm
Leaving Maupiha’a lagoon in the late morning, we were on our way to Apia, Samoa. It’s a solid portside broad reach – our main sail, fluorescent orange staysail, and genoa are flying. The two larger sails, main and genoa, are reefed to maximize power but minimize heeling over, thus increasing our balance. Due to the large swell, it’s a ‘Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride.’ Trent was nervous to perform the first watch, but armed with his new book, he faired well. No rain, but nevertheless wet due to ocean spray into the windward side cockpit. All hatches and port-lights are locked down tight. The swell is large and pushes us over regularly. Everything is rattling.
5/11/2017 6:00 am. Exhausted, Bryce woke me early. Rough night. Eric was up a several times. The wind got stronger during the night. They had to furl in the genoa.
5/11/2017 11:30 pm. Not much has changed. Still wild though I dared to make pancakes this morning and pasta spaghetti for dinner….no easy feat when the pots want to come tumbling off the already gimbling stove. Had a few spills making the sauce. Bryce made Capuccino this morning and spilled the entire quantity. In reaction, he threw a spoon. When I spill something due to an aggressive wave, the expletives are many!
Good friend Bowman Puahio from Bora took the boys spear fishing & scurfing of a jet ski!! Woohoo!
5-5-2017 Friday
We cleared Bora Bora Customs & Immigration after a bit of a run around from the local gendarme (a newby officer misdirected us on several accounts) by 10:30 am and departed Vaitare at 11h30 for a 17h00 arrival in Maupiti. The passage was straightforward yet enlivened at the end while heading through the Maupiti reef pass. It was like ‘Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride’ motoring through the deep but somewhat narrow pass into the lagoon. Trent and Bryce and I were all posted on deck to watch for coral heads while Eric maintained as straight a motor forward as possible.
Maupiti Island, French Polynesia.
We rode in on the substantial swell at a 6.5 knot over-the-water clip with a 3 knot exiting tide, giving us 3.5 knots of forward way, plenty to steer by. The conjunction of swell and exiting current made for a tumultuous yet thrilling entry. Sometimes Kandu rowdily slid left or right, even under Eric’s steady hand. We were all exhilarated and relieved to have passed successfully into the lagoon, to easily navigate through the lagoons’ large coral heads and to find an empty mooring. Once settled, fellow cruiser comrades Walter and Meryl from s/v Flying Cloud (first met them in Atuona, Hiva Oa, Marquesas) dinghied over to share some refreshments. It was great to discover they were in Maupiti and to catch-up on their latest adventures.
Trent Rigney proud of his part in the Bora Bora spearfishing catch.
While preparing Bryce & Trent’s spearfishing catch from Bora for dinner, the boys and I played a few rounds of our new favorite game, Cribbage, taught to us by Ron and Michele while Eric borrowed Flying Cloud’s dinghy to head ashore in order to meet up with contacts for whom the next day we would be transporting items and mail to atoll Maupiha’a aka Mopelia by French sailors. We slept comfortably in the calm lagoon. Leslie
Maupiti island with s/v Flying Cloud in the distance as seen from Kandu.
5-6-2017 22h00 Maupiti to Maupiha’a (Mopelia)
First night-watch since what seems to be forever. It’s clear out with more than a ¾ moon illuminating the clouds and rolling dark sea. We have the genoa out, but probably only gaining a knot of speed as we’ve got the engine running. Engine sounds normal. Kandu fairs well, but it is pretty rocky and rolly since there’s no wind. Yet we are blessed with light swell and no rain. We have our cockpit canopy up which during the day provides much needed protection from the blazing sun. Hard to believe we’re on the road again after so much time being stationary. I’m not yet adapted to the constant movement. My stomach is a bit off. Leslie
Eric Rigney sending Delorme satellite texts while enjoying the open cockpit air.
5-7-2017 Sunday 2h40 am
Nice motorsail. 5+ knots making good time. Nice stop at Maupiti. Swam with 2 mantas at their cleaning station near pass: beautiful majestic creatures. Picked up supplies for Mopelia families. Had ice cream and spent the last of our French Polynesia money on souvenirs and gifts. Shopkeeper gifted Leslie earrings and a matching purple pencil urchin bracelet!
Ice Cream store/Souvenir shop where Maupiti locals naturally congregate.
Bought our last baguettes for awhile and eggs too. In the center of the very small town, young boys hailed Bryce from Lycee d’Uturoa. (Those boys were home from the high school’s boarding school for the weekend.) Enjoyed visiting with Flying Cloud. Borrowed their dinghy. French elections yesterday. Interesting to see how the small community was buzzing with energy as a result of the elections. Excited to motor through Mopelia’s extremely narrow pass and to meet the families. It’s a Fr. Polynesia site I’ve never visited. Due to our connections, we may just get to gorge on some of their local lobster and coconut crab. We’ll see. Eric
Bryce Rigney, the eyes of Kandu.
5-8-2017 Monday
Motored safely through the narrow Maupiha’a pass with Bryce up the mast at the first spreader to direct us around coral heads. Anchored at 10h00 am quite a distance from the shore to avoid the large coral heads. Due to storms or squalls, shifting winds could blow the boat in any direction dragging our chain and possibly wrapping it around coral heads. Later bringing up anchor tends to be tricky. Right away, a local fishing panga motored over to us by two young women. They had been eagerly anticipating our arrival us being laden with their packages sent from their Maupiti families. Cordiality extended on both sides, we unloaded their things onto their boat brimming over with smiles, happy to have been of service.
Goodies that Kandu offered to each of the two families knowing they rarely get supplies.
They invited us to dinner that evening in thanks. Shortly thereafter, a darling couple, Norma and Harris, motored over to greet and thank us for transporting their belongings. Offering us lunch of island delicacies: seafood coconut cucumber salad and steamed whole fish, they were excited to get to know us and asked us to join them for dinner the following evening also mentioning that they’d like to take us on a 4×4 tour of the atoll. Wow! Trent took one trial bite of the seasnail salad saying, “That’s interesting…” Eric, Bryce and I found it to have a delicious taste with an intriguing texture. Leslie
Norma and Harris from Maupiha’a.Maupiha’a Coconut crab captured and cooked – ready to eat.
Bienvenue a Raiatea nos amis Ron and Michel Bruchet!
April 24, 2017
Hello Mom and Dad – I know you had some busy days getting packed up for your time in LQ and travels to Tucson.
Just wanted to say hello and let you know Ron and Michele arrived yesterday safe and sound carting along a HUGE duffel bag full of our boat parts, amazon orders, and Spicy Hot Cheetos X 6 big bags for the boys! It was a bit like Christmas sorting through the various orders. Wonderful fun. Michele was sweet to also bring some fun new spices that will liven my cooking. I have been feeling a bit bored with my general menu fare – so that will brighten things up a bit for sure.
Feeling a bit tired today as yesterday we did a lot of cleaning in prep for our guests’ arrival. Ron and Michele went for a hike up Tapioi while crew Kandu worked on various chores to get ready to depart. Ron and Michele are sweet, sweet, sweet yet I imagine their minds are a little boggled having to deal with the smallness of space, and not being able to get everything one might want at a moment’s notice. Fortunately the stores stock oatmeal and okay wine which was on their list. Organic foods and non-gluten are available, but very expensive. In general food is expensive except for white rice, white flour, boxed milk, white sugar, canned butter and baguettes, which are considered “daily needs” and are subsidized. I don’t buy the expensive organic or fancy items; note-to-self, organic or raw peanut butter is nonexistent. Skippy it is and Nutella, of course! Buying raw nuts here is impossible. Fortunately I have a good supply that I hoard in the freezer for banana bread. Being away from the US commercial haven of the world for the last 2.5 years, I no longer think about the things that we can’t get, just the things that we can.
Sending you hugs and love. Gotta get lunch on. Maybe Sashimi today. Mmmm good.
Tuna Sashimi over a bed of cabbage and grated carrots served with rice and quinoa! Fresh!
Months since I last posted, having just past our anniversary, a recap of the past 2 years seems fitting. The start of the trip’s impact was great and still resonates strongly within my recollection. Much like recalling the bear in the woods at the cost of the forest’s wonder. Although much wonder is to be told of our experiences in the Marquesas, Tuamotus and Society Islands, of New Zealand and Sydney, and of Easter Island, looking back I seem drawn to reflect on the stress of the journey’s start, perhaps in an effort to derive some benefit against the ledger of anguish expended, perhaps as a cautionary tale to those eager to push themselves in a likewise fashion, or maybe like a survivor of any struggle may do. But this, as with most American movies, is developing into a happy circumstance. I had faith that the experience would eventually pay off, but my faith was and is often tested, just as it is for entrepreneurs, parents, and anyone else with a goal to make something worthy happen.
Apologies for those who feel I repeat too often a “woe-is-me” theme. Leslie worries so. I don’t do so to provoke a response, to get readers to encourage me. I’m just inviting readers into my head as I look back on the past two years. This is, I know, a repeat of what I’ve written before, but see it as a summary, a reduction of my thoughts. Know this: I am at this time pleased and more self-aware than I can recall in recent memory. “Much to learn have I,” as Yoda might phrase it. “Learn I have. Learn I will. But never so much as is to learn.”
Two years ago, on Leslie’s birthday, we left Ventura, California aboard Kandu, our 42-foot expedition type single mast sailboat, now almost 30 years old herself. Motor-sailing out from the marina and into the Pacific Ocean, light haze over an otherwise clear winter sky, friends waved us on from ashore. We slipped eagerly toward the calm harbor entrance, a gentle swell heightened as we neared the breakwaters’ opening, flanked by boulders of rock on either side, then passed the detached breakwater covered in a thick overcoat of seabird guano.
Cast-off and sailing into the Big Blue Yonder with Bryce Rigney as the King-of-the-World – VIDEO.
The crew were excited. Bryce was standing on the forward pulpit pulling off his best Leonardo DiCaprio imitation of “I’m on top of the world!” Trent was below deck, scrambling to find and play the theme song to Titanic crackling over the loudspeaker. Did they not recall how the movie ended? Leslie was glad to be finally moving, having struggled for eighteen months prior to this day, buttoning up our lives as they had been, still frustrated from having walked away from beloved careers, family/friends, and a cozy home. But she was glad to be following through with the dream. After 25 years of talking about it, planning for it, saving for it, we were gliding out of the starting gate. No more having to hear, “You haven’t left yet?” from marina neighbors, yacht club members, and friends: a welcome relief for Leslie. I was more anxious than excited. Having worked full time on the boat for nearly a year and half, I didn’t think Kandu was yet ready for the demands of the first two, possibly four, long distance crossings that would comprise our first and longest passages. We hadn’t yet put Kandu through a significant shakedown; between extended preparations and a closing weather window (May 1st is the first official day of hurricane season for the northern hemisphere), we hadn’t had the time.
Kandu arrived at Marina del Rey, California on February 10th, 2015.
Rather than head directly to Mexico from Ventura, we slipped in and out of Southern California marinas, stopping at reciprocal yacht clubs where we could stay free for 3-5 days at a time. West Marine, the nation’s largest purveyor of marine hardware, mans a store in nearly every Southern California port. I was through their doors like church and everyday was Sunday. Haunted by the knowledge that once we left California, cost and time would be added to each and every project, handicapped by the lack of convenience generously supported by US’s well-oiled consumer culture. The mental stress was heavy. With the safety and comfort of family on the line, “failure was not an option.”
Mexico’s would be our first international border to cross. It’s a day sail from San Diego to Ensenada. Having worked frenetically in marinas between Ventura and San Diego, with no more “free-slip” days left having spent our allotted time in 6 different yacht clubs, and that ever present favorable seasonal weather window closing, my hand was forced again. March 21, the spring equinox, would be our last day in the USA.
From Left: Uncle Bill, Bryce Rigney, Jose Houska, Trent Rigney, Eric Rigney in Ensenada, Mexico.
Ensenada was a mini-vacation with no major known boat projects left to tackle. Uncle Bill and our mutual friend, Joe Houska, joined us for the border crossing. They returned to California after a few days of helping us out with tasks. As a family treat, we attended what would be for the next two years our last feature film screening in a movie theater. The coves and bays between Ensenada and Banderas Bay ranged from beautiful and remote, to dirty and corrupt. The crew handled well their watches. I was impressed by their desire to hold up their end. Bryce and Trent found ways to have fun at every place we stopped. I could find no desire within myself to have fun; knowing important tasks needed all my available energy. My humbug attitude frustrated me and the crew.
Banderos Bay, Mexico: Harbors La Cruz and Puerto Vallarta
Coming into Banderas Bay, port La Cruz, two significant problems arose: the newly factory rebuilt hydraulic cylinder that allows the automatic pilot to steer the boat failed due to my improper installation, and the masthead VHF antenna connection failed, severely limiting our radio’s reception and transmission performance to just a mile instead of 8-12. After many stressful days of research and measurements, a replacement hydraulic system was identified, expensive, purchased, delivered, and installed. The delay meant that Easter Island would likely have to come off the list. It was maybe 10 days since San Diego and I was missing West Marine like a crack addict. Time prevented repairing the VHF masthead antenna connection properly so we installed a new one behind the cockpit until I had time and a steady place where I could tackle the masthead solution. We picked up Uncle Bill at the Puerto Vallarta airport with all the parts I’d ordered, an action in which all future visitors to Kandu would engage. “Hardware mules” is what cruising sailors refer to friends and family who visit, laden with ordered parts and supplies, cheaply freighted and easily passed by customs. With the ticking weather window to sail to the Galapagos rapidly closing (“You should have left 4-6 weeks ago.”), we buttoned up Kandu, and on May 1, left Puerto Nuevo bound for Isla Isabela in the Galapagos with Uncle Bill aboard. Kandu was as ready as I could make her and I was satisfied enough, all things considered.The eighteen-day passage was extremely hot and muggy, seas from several directions, confused and varied winds, and nightly attacks by incessant squalls. Rain forced us to close all hatches and portlights, converting our living space into a tropical sauna.
Far from land, boobie takes a break. Trent investigates.
Sea temperature and air temperature were the same: 89 degrees F. Sweat and grime were immediate. Tempers shortened and mechanical problems continued to develop. This time, the engine’s charging system wasn’t functioning properly and I couldn’t figure out why. The off-again/on-again shifting winds exhausted my patience.The awkward motion of the boat in the three-way swell was annoying. I wondered if we could make it to landfall before running out of diesel fuel. But this wasn’t a weekend trip in some campground. I was in the middle of a remote part of the Pacific with my precious family. Like a scene out of Apollo 13, I must work from the parts and pieces I have on the boat.
Crossing the equator on our way to the Galapagos
Digging deep within my soul, I get hit by the life lesson I’ve discussed before: I can only sail the wind I have, not the wind I want. Somehow the sentiment comforts me. Do with what I’ve got, as best I can, adapting with demands of the moment. Throw shoulda, woulda, coulda out the door; and open myself to what’s possible, and then do that. That’s all I can do, that’s all anyone can do, so do it and move on to the next thing. Leave perfection to the saints.
Galapagos Marine Iguana basking in the Isla Isabella sun.
My experience at Isla Isabela, the largest island in the Columbus Archipelago aka the Galapagos, questioned for me what was becoming the theme of our trip. Should it be about spending time together as a family exploring new lands and cultures, or would it be about me getting the boat ready for the next crossing while the family begged me to join to them on one of their snorkels, bike rides, or other excursions?
Excursion to volcanic park and its beauty help to set aside frustrations of boat challenges.
Turns out, of the fifteen days spent in Puerto Villamil, five were rain-drenched workdays, eight were sunny workdays, and three were amazing excursions. Twenty-percent fun, eighty-percent stress and work. I did not like this version of the 80-20 rule. But what could I do?
Ready to make the passage from Galapagos to the Marquesas.
The conditions of the Mexico to Galapagos crossing proved too much for Uncle Bill, who celebrated his 84th birthday on our Galapagos arrival. He did not join us for the crossing to the Marquesas. Unlike the Galapagos crossing, the 24-day crossing to the Marquesas was swift and dryer. The seas were larger and still a bit confused. In brief, the conditions were not comfortable, but the ride was a bit more pleasant, not as hot and less rain, no squalls. We arrived in Nuku Hiva with a couple more boat issues for me to resolve before heading on.
Nuku Hiva, Marquesas landfall 24 days later.
A late June arrival in the Marquesas meant we were about three months off from the ideal seasonal weather window based on our planned itinerary. In order to catch up and be in New Zealand by November, we would have to cut our French Polynesia stay by several months. Considering that we had pre-established deep relations with many Marquesans friends, leaving so soon would have robbed us from an opportunity too valuable to lose. Our Marquesan friends said we had arrived during a grand Matava’a year, an inter-island cultural event staged in December once every four years. A French sailor familiar with the area and all of French Polynesia advised that an El Nino year was expected and that the Marquesas Islands were the safest place in French Polynesia to avoid hurricanes, also the least expensive and most authentic in terms of Polynesian culture. Another Marquesan friend advised us that they could enroll our boys in the French public school. And two different American cruisers, both with at least one circumnavigation under their belts advised that the elements of French Polynesia combine to create a superior cruising experience: tropical beauty, warm and friendly people, access to French food, and all essential services. Add to the mix that Leslie and I speak French and this all made for a compelling argument set aside the original itinerary and, instead, rest.
Our Marquesan family, the Falchettos, welcome us with an extraordinary feast the day of our arrival.Polynesian roasted pig, captured and slaughtered that morning.Denis whips up a batch of fresh roasted breadfruit paste and coconut cream (poi or mako in Marquesan)
Staying in the Marquesas until next season would reset the weather window clock, allow me to catch up with most of the boat projects while having some fun, give us a cultural immersion experience few families can experience in the Marquesas, save some money, and the boys would learn French. On the other hand, to try and catch up with the planned itinerary would have entailed nearly non-stop boat maintenance, missing many of the cultural gifts of each port, just a quick dash through the South Pacific. Sure, sticking to the five-year plan we’d be able to chalk up more countries visited, spreading the time and cultural exchanges over multiple countries around the world instead of concentrating on French Polynesia. But if I’m working all the time, what I’m getting out of it? The scale tipped heavily in favor of staying, so stay we did . . . not just for one year, but two.
Kandu anchored in Anaho Bay, Nuku Hiva!Nuku Hiva communal shower, one of several.Trent stands before unusual tree trunk roots found along the way to a breathtaking waterfall.Cultural Heritage Day on Nuku Hiva offers “haka,” dance as well as traditional crafts, foods, and activities.Hiva Oa is where the Matava’a was held that year. Here’s a northern Hiva Oa bay, typical of the Marquesas.Northern Hiva Oa means the bay of Pua Mau (flower shade) and its world renowned stone tikis.The Matava’a opens with great fanfare.Cyril, sculpture and dance master of Tauhata regally enters the arena.And of course much dancing.Back at home in Taiohae, Nuku Hiva, the Petit Quai’s favorite hang out: Chez Henri’s Snack VaeakiHenri, like a brother to me, shows off a plate of his poisson cru, lime-marinated raw yellow fin tuna.A secluded beach cove in Eaio, where friends spearfish and hunt for our meals.Boys with a Tahitian acquaintance spy over the cliffs of uninhabited Eiao Island in the Marquesas.Wild mutton, killed, slaughtered, and air-dried before our overnight sail back to Nuku Hiva.
The Marquesas long-stay experience proved so wonderful that we decided to extend our stay in French Polynesia a second year, this time in the Society Islands, in Raiatea and in a marina.
Marina d’Uturoa, in Raiatea, and island 20 miles from honeymoon famous Bora Bora.
It is from here that I write. To help make things even easier and more fun, we bought a very used car.
Our beater car purchased in Tahiti, Leslie affectionate named, “la marquisenne.”
From here, we calculate we can get a jump on the weather window in our bid to finish a circumnavigation, but now within a much quicker two years. We hope to leave this May. To shorten the distance and save time, we plan to sail up the Red Sea instead of around Africa. Pirate circumstances have dramatically changed around the horn of Africa in favor of passing through this previously perilous region. From Raiatea, I can calmly finish the last big boat projects, having Kandu ready for the two-year push while the boys complete a second year in French public school and play in a beautiful part of the world in a familiar culture. Through it all, Leslie keeps the family fed, tidy, healthy, and the bills paid, along with other boat projects. We have a nice routine. The municipal marina provides electricity, water, and easy access to land, while fending off swells generated from seasonal storms. From Raiatea, we can affordably fly to bucket-list locations missed due to our delayed start or to be missed by our new itinerary.
Kandu Tahiti tied in Marina d’Uturoa, Raiatea.
First in line, we flew to New Zealand for a two-week drive-about.
New Zealand jet boat ride!
This important region was removed from our new sailing itinerary as was most of Australia. So from NZ we flew to nearby Sydney for another two weeks.
Iconic Sydney Bridge, had to do it.
After a week in Tahiti, we returned to Raiatea for 10 days, then back to Tahiti for a flight to Easter Island, removed from our itinerary due to boat preparation delays and additional repairs in Mexico. We stayed two weeks and experienced most of the Tapati Festival.
Moai of Easter IslandTapait traditional dance contest in full swing.
As such, overall, we had an extraordinary (and much needed) 7-week family vacation exploring New Zealand’s north island, visiting friends old and new; Sydney with my brother Curtis and his partner, Joel; Easter Island and the Tapati Festival with Marquesan and American friends; and more excitement in Tahiti with great Tahitian and American friends. The result: a full decompression from the grueling post-departure months, living on the boat, and the upcoming pre-departure boat preparations. I couldn’t recall when I had last felt so unburdened.
Between the Marquesas and Tahiti, we spent 3 weeks on gorgeous Fakarava atoll in the Tuamotus. Here’s a sunrise from our cockpit.Even lunch in Fakarava can be transformed into a scenic adventure, a tropical paradise to be sure.
So, the experience up to the Marquesas was unpleasant. The effect: the shadow of the difficult start permeated my being. I didn’t realize how much of it I still shouldered even after we decided to hit the pause button, how the weight of the burden had left an impression and thus continued to shape my perspective and my day-to-day attitude towards the future. After the recent “vacation,” for the first time in too many years, I felt I was in the right place, at the right time, with the right people, and doing it all for the right reasons at the right pace.
Ahu Tongariki at Sunrise, Rapa Nui on February 2, 2017.
In summary, we left our homeport twenty-four months ago. The first four months were frustrating and pressure-filled. The following 20 months have been rewarding, very much so, yet tainted by an overshadowing stress established by the first four months, and the year and half leading up to the departure. Still, that was closer to the 80/20 equation for which I was looking when I originally planned this trip. Unfortunately I allowed the 20 percent pain to blur the 80 percent pleasure. After the vacation, I knew more than ever that this habit needed to end. Better to take a page from Bryce and Trent’s playbook and find ways to have fun wherever we are, whenever we can, not looking for the closest hardware store. What would be the point of all this if I were to allow the emotional turmoil of the past to continue to spoil our adventure any futher?
All smiles near a new Rapa Nui petroglyph
Okay, so the focus now, for me, is to schedule time off from boat projects to have guilt-free fun, especially during the week, even just an hour. This is not easy for me to do. Another goal is to source an air of joy from within myself, draw out the “vacation” me, especially when I’m working with Leslie and the boys. I want to be less critical, less gruff. This too does not come naturally to me. To help me with this goal, I picture in my mind the on camera, off stage demeanor of Chris Martin, lead singer of the rock band Coldplay. I want to be more like that, confident, quick to smile, ready for something fun. This will not be easy for me, not by a long shot, but it’s important . . . to me and my family. I want develop joy and happiness more so than even my elusive washboard abs. In other words, wake up and smell the moai. In a strange way, I feel like the trip I envisioned 40+ years ago is just beginning, and I’m exited about it, and about doing it with Leslie, Bryce, and Trent aboard Kandu. In short, two years after leaving California, I find myself loving to sail the wind I have, . . . although missing a wee bit the convenience of a West Marine.
Kaoha Mom and Dad: So nice to hear from you. I enjoyed very much reading your email to Michel. Your news touched on some great things about your visit here, already three weeks ago. I loved reading your point of view.
[Dear Michel, we have been back from the Marquesas for over a week. We spent 3 weeks with Leslie, Eric, Bryce and Trent. The island is isolated so not many tourists, mostly boaters coming from the Galapagos. The boys are going to school there, French spoken, so it has been a big challenge for them.
Taiohae college from outside.
They plan on staying on the island until May, when sailing season will have good projections. Leslie/Eric have many friends there as this is the third time Eric has sailed to the Marquesas. We stayed in one of their friends’ home for the 1st week we were there. It was up a hill with a lovely view of the harbor where the boat is anchored. While the island is not a 3rd world type of living environment, it is a way of life that is simple, void of many of our typical comforts. The first home we stayed in had a full kitchen, hot and cold water, where most of the homes we experienced had no hot water. We had boar meat for some of our meals, and our favorite, fresh raw tuna very often. Trent turned 12 and Bryce 14 while we were there. We had perfect weather, with humidity of course as it is tropical. People who have cars usually have large 4 door, 4 wheel drive diesel trucks as the roads are quite primitive and full of rocks and potholes.
Aakapa & Attitoka as seen looking down from way above on the ridge.
There is only one road to the other side of the island, where we travelled about three times. We rented one of those trucks for a week while we were there. Eric drove, of course. We loved the green green scenery and hikes and the sailing. All of us snorkeled one day, and accumulated lots of lovely shells to bring back. Beach combing for shells was a favorite thing for us, but we had to cover up as there are a lot of biting insects on the beach. There is no laying on the beach to get a tan!
Denis feeding his semi-wild semi-domesticated pigs.
The two highlights that we remember most were feeding semi-wild pigs coconuts and our incredible hike to the waterfall at the end of Hakaoui Bay, next to Daniel’s Bay where Survivor Marquesas was filmed. Of course, time with the family was golden. We were treated like royals. We miss our Kandu family very much, and feel the long trip that we made was very very worth it. Sending you all our love from Oakland, Rosie and Ron.]
Last week was very busy. We got our US income taxes submitted on Tuesday: two days before our October 15th deadline! Gee, that felt good to get that off our shoulders. A friend from Tahiti happened to be in town on Sunday and Monday – so we spent some quality time with her and her bank boss who had come to Nuku Hiva to check-up on various bank investments. It was interesting to learn about Marquesan start-up businesses and how entrepreneurs here qualify for loans.
Friday I helped Raymonde teach children how to make yogurt in a couple elementary school classes (I first spent a separate morning with 5 other volunteers learning how to make yogurt in a rice cooker). We will make yogurt again tomorrow morning, Monday, with three more classes. It is actually quite simple to make. You heat a liter of skimmed milk stirring it continuously until it’s hot but never boiling, you add and mix together ½ cup live yogurt, 4 heaping tablespoons of whole powdered milk, 10 teaspoons of sugar or less and wait for the mixture to steam. Remove from heat, divide into portions and place in a warm environment for 6-8 hours or overnight. Then transfer to the refrigerator and consume. Yum yum! Since it’s so easy, I plan to make some on the boat. I already bought special yogurt containers before we left on our trip.
Homemade yogurt. Mmmmgood! Not too sweet.
We have been helping Bryce and Trent more with their homework as they are becoming more capable of comprehending the French in their classes. Eric was involved in recording an ad for breast cancer for Raymonde who is putting on a big cancer awareness event this Friday – which I will be helping with all day.
Nuku Hiva drum battery
We also went again to watch/hear the dance rehearsal Friday night that Nuku Hiva residents are preparing for the December festival on Hiva Oa. Watching and listening to their songs and drum battery is always an exciting cultural experience.
Leslie sporting new outrigger paddle.
Two weeks ago we ordered an outrigger paddle for me, fashioned by a local paddler. I received the paddle earlier this week and admire it’s beautiful workmanship. It feels like I can paddle faster and more efficiently. Ha ha! Bryce is now paddling two times a week through his school.
See Bryce in the first seat. This is the fahoro, or cadence position. He maintains the paddling rhythm.
Unfortunately, Trent is too young to paddle through the school. Last week, I paddled three times with our mixed group of French residents, cruisers and Marquesan club members. Eric and the boys actually went out twice in the three-man outrigger. Also, I’m really enjoying aqua gym in the ocean with the ladies on Tuesday and Thursday mornings . . . great exercise and enjoyable company.
Today, there was an historical tour of Taiohae bay that started at 9:30 til 12:30. It was quite interesting. One tidbit we learned about the history of Nuku Hiva was that it was first discovered by an American merchant ship captain, Joseph Ingrams in 1791. Later in 1813 during the war of 1812 while harassing British flag ships in the Pacific, the bay was claimed for America by Navy Captain David Porter and named Madison Island. Taiohae was named Madisonville and the bay, Massachusetts Bay. It’s a convoluted story, but suffice it to say that he arrived with 8 ships, commandeered from the British, with many mouths to feed.
United States Navy Commodore David Porter’s fleet off Nuku Hiva in October 1813.
The Marquesan chief and residents of Taiohae valley agreed to let them build a fort and lay claim to the eastern part of the bay (the least desirable section because there was no river) and to provide them pigs as long as they fought and defeated the neighboring valley Taipi Vai, whose residents had been harassing Taiohae. In order to feed his men, Captain Porter reluctantly waged war on Taipi Vai, firing canons, shooting guns and lighting aflame magnificently carved structures that covered the valley. Reportedly the day after, the Taipi Vai people showed up with 300 pigs. Months later Captain Porter had to leave and shortly thereafter the American claim went with him. Congress never ratified the annex. The French took over control in 1846.
My English classes are three times a week now because I have an advanced group and a beginner group. My students are advancing steadily. I spent Friday morning learning some teaching tips at Linda and Chuck’s boat, Jacaranda. Previously watching me teach English, she got very excited and wanted to share some technics that she used when she taught ‘English as a Second Language.’ She had great ideas like throwing an ‘un-birthday’ party and wrapping up some gag gifts…everything to be spoken in English, of course. I plan to prepare that particular idea sooner than later. Sadly, Jacaranda is supposed to leave for Anaho today, but looking out into the bay – they are still here, so they will probably depart tomorrow morning. We will likely not see them again until December during the Marquesan Matava’a festival in Hiva Oa. I will miss our fun conversations and her artistic input. Did you ever check out her website? She is constantly adding great articles about the islands and the interesting things they learn: s/v Jacaranda blog
Un-Birthday party during “English Class.” Since Laeticia is a doctor and it was October, I gave her a Halloween skeleton for her Un-birthday.
The boys have been spending quality time Boogie boarding. They cannot get enough time on their Boogie boards, taking advantage of the large southern swell, which will change to a northern pattern in December. They headed out again today and had a great time…who wouldn’t considering how wonderful and clear the water is on these hot-humid days with little rain. Academically, Trent is really enjoying reading his “dragon” books on the new Kindle. He just loves them. His comprehension is improving in English and French.
You also have been very busy. Congrats on selling your little red car. Yahoo! Thanks for sending the school package of pen-pal letters from here off to Allison Maires at Cabrillo Middle School. I will write her to make sure she knows to look for a package in the mail. I appreciate you purchasing the items for us for when Shannon and Charlie come to visit.
Well all that is probably a bit more than you were expecting to read. I will sign-off here. Just know that I am thinking of you….
The Papase’ea Sliding Rocks was mind blowing. We asked locals how to get down to the slides just to make sure we wouldn’t get hurt. There were over a hundred well-maintained stairs to walk down. 
It was a hot day, so there were already a lot of people visiting the falls and slides. Dad asked a local how to slide down the rock. He went first, then I went, Bryce and mom last. It took some time for her to gather her courage. After awhile having slid a lot, Bryce and I went over to the waterfall. I went under and it felt like I was getting a massage. It was the best natural rock slide I’ve ever slid on. We all had a lot of fun.
Lastly, we went to see how you could make clothing and artwork from bark. You cut off a branch from a specific tree, and carefully remove the bark. Then they separate the outside of the bark from the inside layer. After, you get two shells, one that is a little sharp and one that isn’t. After you’re done scrapping the bark, it’s six times the size. They stretch it out with rock as weights and let it dry. They dry it in shade letting the wind and air dry it because the sun dries it too fast.
The spot was an hour and ½ away from our boat, and we wanted to catch the first boat out leaving early from shore at 6:30 am. So we woke up at 4:30 to drive over to the other side of the island and the surfer guide said we couldn’t go surfing with them. He said it in a really mean and aggressive way. We left and searched for another way to paddle out to the surf later that same day. When we arrived, that surf guide was frustrated we were there.
I loved the rockslide and the trench. Bryce and I had a great day surfing the Salani reef. I loved how Samoa, being next to ‘America Samoa,’ had my favorite chips that we’ve not found anywhere else: Spicy Hot Cheetos. We were going to tour Savai’i but immigration would only let us check out from Apia and dad didn’t want to sail back against the wind. After just one week only, we left to Fiji.
