Aboard IO

From Brisbane to Bamfield in 5 days

2010-12-03T12:28:00.000-08:00

Like they say, nothing goes to windward like a jet airplane! Sidney to Calgary in 13 hours, incredible! I don’t think anyone living in modern society appreciates what an airplane can do until you have taken 10 months to sail what a plane can do in 13 hours. Of course on the boat your body has allot more time to acclimate to the weather en-route. 19 hours after leaving sunny, warm 25^oCBrisbane, the weather in snowy Calgary was -21^oC. OUCH! I was there for 2.5 days and the weather dropped to -41 with wind-chill. There was a reason we moved out of that place and headed for the tropics! I thought I was going to be prepared by bringing my big red float coat for a warmth, but at those temps the foam inside the jacket froze solid and became like steel plates, certainly not retaining any warmth.

Now I am above 48^o North back out on the West coast teaching at the Bamfield Marine Station, taking students out onto the cold grey waters of the North Pacific. While it is still beautiful and interesting to have the contrast, those warm aquamarine lagoons we had begun to take for granted sure seem far away.

We sailed across the Pacific Ocean.

2010-11-23T08:25:00.000-08:00

We have sailed IO from the Northern BC coast, down North America, across to the South Pacific and all the way to Australia.

I counted how many miles we have come. I counted how many days we traveled pushing our tiny vessel to the opposite side of our planet. I have written about how many perfect anchorages we found, how many countries we visited. I have photographed how many fish we caught, how many markets we shopped at, how many perfect white sand beaches we walked. I have remembered how many days we feared for our lives, how many waves tried to break IO and terrified our minds. I have experienced what it means to fulfill a dream, to think it into being, to plan, to build, to begin, to endure and enjoy and finally, now, to end.

But friends, fret not. We will continue to post our Australian adventures over the next few months and know that I believe that a person is only as good as their next great adventure. So stay tuned, as the next great journey has already formed in my mind. I am planning on leaving the Ocean far behind and returning to my Cowboy roots. I hope you will come with us along for the ride as we Reinfree.

mike

Approaching the Australian coast

2010-11-23T08:21:00.001-08:00

We approached the Australian coast just as the sun was setting over the Glass House Mountains North of Brisbane.

The last of the spearfishing in New Caladoinia

2010-11-23T08:03:00.000-08:00

Af few last shots of spearfishing Trevally and Walu.

november 15, 2010 The Approach

2010-11-21T12:42:00.001-08:00

November 15, 2010 The Approach
My head told me making landfall in the evening was not ideal and so all my senses became more alert. But my heart simply melted at the sight of a beautiful sunset decorating the landscape of Australia. Those peaks are Australia! This is my first time on this continent! The city lights appeared and drowned out the entrance marker lights. Numerous giant freighters started to light up. We decided to follow one ship into the NW channel, and for hours, dodged them one by one coming and going. Even inside the channel, we were still exposed to the wind and waves and got tossed around. I sucked on a piece of dark chocolate to numb the intimidation. Marker after marker, we concentrated on flashing green, flashing red, and strong currents that almost got us crashing into a cardinal marker. During the 360 scan every two minutes, I caught a glimpse of the moonlight on the water. It was only one of the many stimulations and things to process in my brain. Wow, what a contrast to the previous night when it was the main focus. Then it hit me, my goodness, that was it. That was the end of our trip.
Arriving in Australia had another kind of exhilaration to it, just as significant as arriving in the Marquesas. We went up the Brisbane river at dawn and realized, we did it. We made it across the Pacific Ocean. We made it to Australia. Of course, now that it's done, I think it would have felt unfinished to leave the boat in New Caledonia. That could have easily happened. Oh, how thankful I was to arrive!

I think it will require some time for all this to sink in. I had complained, cursed, cried, sobbed, and shouted out of frustration on some passages. The sucky part about cruising seem to never make it into spoken or written tales about sailing. It is a double-edged sword, a cruel mistress, a love-hate relationship. Yet all of that seems to quickly fade away as each hour goes by, almost as quickly as the saltwater on deck got rinsed away. It's strange how things work that way. Now, I am going look for a Magnum bar. Arh, sweet as!

hyo-jung

November 11, 2010 The Moon and Stars

2010-11-14T17:19:00.001-08:00

We started this passage on new moon. Nights were spooky dark. The seas had calmed down and so have my nerves. Usually, the night sky would be stunning and I could observe the stars to my heart's content. However, it was overcast for night after night and we were getting water sprayed from the beam incessantly that I stopped looking up at the sky. Then last night, the slit crescent moon shined its light on the jet black water, like an old friend saying hello, and laid before me my favorite scene in the whole world. Just like staring at a campfire, watching the moonlight is mesmerizing. It comforts me very much at night. She briefly said her hello, then hid behind the clouds.

On passages, Mike and I have passed time daydreaming and talking about many things. If it's not about a big bowl of ice cream or endless long hot showers, it's about the kind of land activities that sound enticing. What lies ahead? What are our next goals? What do we need to do to get there? Although I'm looking forward to many of the conveniences offered back home, I cannot help but think at some of the significant things our friends have said upon their return home. The common theme of the culture shock is contained in this quote:

"It's shocking how fast we were pulled back into the crazy rat race, despite our determination to keep a good balance."

This sentiment also seems to be there whether they were cruising or not. Our friend who spent a year traveling and climbing shared with us how crazy it was to return to the consumerism frenzy and how she missed the simple lifestyle she had lived. Is it all a fleeting dream? There are many thoughts on my mind, but for now, it is to soak in the moon and the stars.

Hyo-jung

Aboard IO in Vanuatu

2010-11-14T13:21:00.001-08:00

November 13, 2010

2010-11-14T04:17:00.001-08:00

G'day, mate!

Mike & Hyo-jung

November 11, 2010 Remember, Remember, November, November

2010-11-11T02:11:00.001-08:00

Position S26 21 E155 20

The last night far out to sea. Beautiful day of rolling waves and trailing winds. Today has been the most calm and pleasant day of sailing since I can remember. Far out to sea, today slid by in the endless wake, with the gurgle of water sweeping past the hull and a gentle lull of the waves lapping as we are swept on by. We dislike passages so much, but one could dream, if we had experienced the elusive "trade wind sailing" on the trip, today would be what it should have been like.
I watched a movie today. actually several movies. Pleasant, lazy and enjoyable. I promise that even in this lifestyle, those days are few and far between. Watching a movie or being enthralled in a book far out to sea is like nowhere else. When you stop to take your mandatory 360 look around, you are transported out of your dream in to another reality that is so vastly different than your mind is ready for. You step outside of your faraway place, back into a tiny boat. When you look around, you are in the middle of an ocean. Water, windswept water as far as you can see, farther than you can even imagine. The vastness here is so grand, it extends farther than your book or movie can take you. This endless water is our reality. It is the oddest sensation that one could try to describe.
Today is the last day out to sea. Tomorrow we will have to think about all the things required when approaching a new continent on a small sailboat. Big freighters, shipping channels, shallow water and other hazards to navigation must be minded tomorrow. But today, just worry free off-shore gliding. Don't get me wrong, sailing across an ocean is so very stressful. I have often said my PhD work was far less stressful than this trip has been. Just three days ago, I worried all day about being over-canvassed in rough and building seas with the possibility of breaking the rig. But that was then, not now, not today, that was then some 200 miles away.

Morning day 5: The crux

2010-11-09T11:47:00.001-08:00

November 10 2010
Position S25 53 E158 55

Early last night we passed the halfway mark and the height of the winds we should see for the rest of this passage. It did get windy, 25 gusting 30 knots with a large breaking sea developing. We have been getting slapped with breaking seas on the beam (side of the boat) which for the most part are loud and scare you but are not dangerous unless they get to big. Sometime last night at O'dark-30, we got hit with a wave so large that it completely engulfed IO such that water spurted in the butterfly hatch on the roof. This hatch is covered by our dingy so there must have been a tremendous amount of force to spurt through those window seams. We cleaned up the water, checked the bilge to make sure we were not taking on any more and then went back to bed.
The wind finally began to back (move counter clockwise) and ease up so we spent the rest of the night running down wind which sounds better but in fact is worse. The motion of the boat as it rolls down each wave gets old fast. My chest is tight this morning from trying to sleep in such a way that holds my body immobile while trying to rest. That is simply not restful!
I guess I'm a bit cranky this morning. In about 35 miles (5 hours) we will be turning right (east) and that should bring the wind back on the starboard quarter making for more comfortable sailing. 310 miles to go!

The last passage; Morning day 4

2010-11-08T11:29:00.001-08:00

November 9 2010
position S24 54 E161 02

We are currently riding the North end of a high pressure system located in the Tasman sea which is keeping the wind fresh and the boat speed up. Yesterday we ticked off 143 nautical miles, not our best day ever, but good for IO. If we keep that speed up we will shave 2 days off this passage. Race IO, please race. It's always a balance of trying to fly enough sail to keep her moving fast but not break things. We are still almost 700 kilometers from land, and to break anything out here, especially the rig would suck is so many ways.
We have been lucky in this respect; we have not broken anything major at all on the trip (knock-on-wood). I actually don't believe in luck, luck is simply opportunity seized and in this case the opportunity to prepare IO to be strong and have lots of new oversized gear has certainly paid off.
We have seen many boats with snapped masts, heard of man-over-boards and even heard about two lost vessels (one with all hands) this year, which remind us that things could go wrong out here fast. I having been climbing and mountaineering for over 15 years, I thought that I had been in remote places. The Pacific brine is simply so vast and movement here is so slow that despite our little radios and beacons which likely offer only a false sense of security, we are simply out here remote and alone. Truly more remote and more alone than anywhere else I have been.

The last passage: Morning day 3

2010-11-07T11:54:00.000-08:00

November 8 2010
Position S23 52.2 E163 15.4

We are under way to Australia. It's just another gross passage, but it does feel a bit different. 550ish miles to go, but it's the last 550. The piped up to 25 gusting to 30 last night so I dropped the jib and raised the staysail with a double reefed main. Now the wind is on the beam at 20 knots, waves are down to 2 meters since last night's 3m. Still getting the occasional big wave slap against the hull. I might drop the staysail and put the working jib back up after the morning's radio net. All is well aboard.

Walu not Wahoo

2010-11-06T12:57:00.001-07:00

November 5, 2010
New Cal

Early morning light flitters and dances and fades into the deep blue depths. One at a time Jaime and I dawn the gear and slip in to the water. It's a bit colder here, we need shorties to stay in for a couple of hours. After the initial splash and chill and when all the bubbles from the entry rise clear from view, I always do a quick 360 to both orient to the surroundings and look for the brethren, the dudes in the grey suits, sharks. We have repeatedly returned to the southern point of a small nearby atoll where we can anchor in 10 meters of water and then swim out to where the bottom drops from view as the depth drops to 30 meters. We have found a spot where the pelagic fish seem to frequently pass by looking for near shore baitfish. It is a game. The game has rules and players. We are learning the rules and have learned that we are not the biggest players. 4 times now sharks much bigger than me have approached.
For me, the most satisfaction has come from how much we have learned from our now countless hours in the water. We watch the baitfish, they usually tell the story. We swim past the edge of the reef, where the depth drops beyond sight and try to find a school of Blue Streaked Fusiliers, (Pterocaesio tile) which are about the size of a trout. In the hundreds they abound, schooling and meandering this way and that, feeding on plankton, never venturing to far away from the reef or each other. They don't mind our presence, we are of no threat and they seem to know that. So we sit and wait in the blue depths, hovering, watching, usually within sight of the other swimmer. Abruptly the school tightens and spins 180 degrees heading for the reef. I dive. Out of the blue a predator will appear. Often we have seen various species of meter long Trevally and Dog Tooth Tuna larger than my spear gun (1.7 mteres). Mostly we are after Walu, (king Mackerel, Scomberomorus commerson) a 1-2-meter silvery fusiform predator that has teeth like a wood saw and blazes through the schools of Fusiliers selecting out any that are weak or unaware. We have learned the trick to getting the Walu to approach closely. When at depth (5-15 meters) a pack of Walu will usually approach to check you out, but usually never close enough for a good shot. However if one blows out a few bubbles, they come in closer to investigate, then WHAMM! My 160 cm spear hits the sweet spot behind the gill and the real work begins. These are ultra fast, powerful fish that have pulled me through the water for longer than I have wanted before I could get to the surface and breath. Once at the surface, I struggle to lift them out of the water as much as possible because the thrashing fish and the blood in the water often bring in the brethren. We swim towards the dingy and the other swimmer escorts you back always looking for the dudes in the gray suits. Pure fun!

Now when I speak of the baitfish turning 180 and tightening up the school for a retreat, when a predator is near. It turns out that they also do this in response to the brethren. We have gotten used to the behavior of the three species of reef sharks and know when to draw the line (usually) but here in New Caledonia we have run into bigger and (supposedly) more aggressive sharks. Yesterday I saw the school tighten and I dove, only to find that no larger fish came in, that is until I turned around and looked directly into the jaws of a bulky gray shark that was much larger than me. It was so large that it had its own entourage of smaller fish schooling with it. I looked directly into its small eyes and saw both the first and second rows of recurved teeth. When I startled and raised my gun, it turned from me and slowly swam away. While this was the closest view I have had so far, I have had three other similar experiences where I have turned around to find this same species of shark approaching me from behind. Each time that I have faced it, the shark has retreated, but it is a bit unnerving of the repetitiveness of this rear approach behaviour. I have narrowed down the species to either the sandbar or bull shark, both of which a bit of a reputation for aggressiveness. I am convinced that they are of no real threat, especially considering that I speared a Trevally and was fighting it to the surface when out of the corner of my eye, I saw one of these large sharks in the distance. I immediately let the fish drop to the end of the spear and line, putting at least 3-meters distance between the bleeding thrashing fish and me, but the shark did not take interest. Regardless we left the area.
We did hear that there is also a Great White Shark that reportedly ate a surfer last year in the reef pass 10 km from here. So there is certainly cause to stay on our toes.

While we are stuck in New Caledonia waiting for a decent weather window for the last passage across to Oz we have taken advantage of this time to get lots of water time and spearfishing, which has turned out to better than anywhere else on this trip save Suwarrow.

October 31, 2010 Weather Poem - Unknown

2010-10-30T12:59:00.000-07:00

Whether the weather be fine,
Or whether the weather be not,
Whether the weather be cold,
Or whether the weather be hot,
We'll weather the weather
Whatever the weather
Whether we like it or not.

Thank you Totem, for finding this.

Hyo-jung

October 29, 2010 Weather waffling

2010-10-28T15:43:00.000-07:00

Life is trying to teach me something. Yet I resist once again. As the Korean saying goes, I am trying to break a rock with an egg.

We are stuck. I know we must be extra cautious in planning this next and last passage as the Australian coast can generate some narly weather. Sure, fine. But that weather window constantly changes. One day we prepare to leave the following day and then the next thing you know, we're stuck again.... for who knows how long. Yes, the worst part is the uncertain nature of all this. In my hand is a one-way ticket with my name on it, but every time I look at it, the departure date changes. And the fine print says, "the date may change depending on weather conditions..... indefinitely".

Mentally, we're ready. But mental preparation has nothing to do with what weather has to say. The truth is, this has been a part of cruising all along. Arrivals and departures at each port were done with such planning for a good weather window. But now with the end of the trip in sight, patience level is low. This is very hard. I'm raised in a generation and a society in which a few hours' delay in a flight schedule causes an uproar. There's a sense of entitlement that life should pan out the way you plan it. It is absolutely ludicrous. This is the time for those to shine, those who know to let go when the issue is outside of their control. Mostly, I am stressed out over how much work needs to be done on the boat upon arrival in Australia and Mike having a fixed flight schedule leaving Australia. I take a deep breath in and feel how tight my chest is. I ponder over something I recently read:

Why be unhappy about something if it can be remedied?

And what is the use of being unhappy about something if it cannot be remedied?

Well, I don't know. Like I said, life is trying to teach me something and yet I struggle. This is not the first time I've been in such a place. Whether it is immigration or work or whatever, I've had to frantically hurry up and patiently wait numerous times. I cannot think of a more useless thing than being angry at weather. Look at what the heck we're trying to do..... hop on a plastic boat and cross an ocean. So here we are, we hear of another boat's arrival in Australia, and I think to myself, we will be there, too.

October 24, 2010 Noumea, New Caledonia

2010-10-25T15:14:00.000-07:00

We arrived last night in New Caledonia, our last stop before heading to Australia. As we munch on delicious baguettes and croissants, we are feeling the time pressure and monitoring weather patterns. It seems as though we're always in a rush..... hurry up and wait. But there's a different kind of energy here at the visitor's dock in Noumea, similar to what we felt in La Cruz, Mexico before "jumping". Stories of arrivals and departures include a range of good and bad - blown sails, dismasting, and my worst nightmares, MOB (man overboard). It's no joke. It may appear that we take it for granted, but passage-making is a humbling experience. Another 800nm left.

Hyo-jung

October 16, 2010 Port Havannah

2010-10-25T14:44:00.000-07:00

We are on the west side of Efate island due to weather. It's been cooler and I put on a pair of socks for the first time in six months. It does not seem as though we'll make it to Epi island to see dugongs (manatees). However, we've encountered some fabulous snorkeling sites on Paul's rock and the south end of Moso island. Mike and Jamie are happy about swimming with big fish again. With Totemites, we took a dinghy ride upstream a river. We said hello to villagers tending to their gardens, washing laundry, and naked kids playing in the local freshwater swimming hole. Then we found a giant tree perfect for an adult-size jungle gym just begging to be climbed. It was super fun to feel like a little kid again.

On Moso island, we visited the local school and learned of a conservation program protecting the turtle nesting sites. Managed by locals, one being the village chief's son, it sounded like a success story when it comes to conservation projects. With permission, we joined the three Aussie volunteers and the beach manager on their nightly beach hikes. Although we did not get to witness turtles nesting, we did see tracks and one nesting site. Interestingly, Mike and Jamie have seen more turtles snorkeling in three days than the volunteers have in three weeks.

I could not leave Vanuatu without having the famous kava. We tried making some on the boat with store-bought kava powder, but it only resulted in kavamucil (kava + Metamucil). So at 5PM, we visited the local nakamal (traditionally, men's meeting place). Despite the small bowls, one smooth gulp resulted in instant numbing of the mouth and burning of the back of the throat. Mike called it, "kavacaine". Vanuatu people must be early birds, these nakamals run out of kava by 7PM. We each had three bowls and Jamie and Mike reported no difference. None of us felt any heaviness in the legs as some others report. However, when I returned to the boat, I felt a sense of mellowness that did not affect the brain. I'm sold. I like kavacaine.

Hyo-jung

October 13, 2010 Bislama

2010-10-25T12:53:00.000-07:00

One of the great things about our travels has been the opportunity to tickle that part of the brain that makes you communicate in different languages. Spanish is certainly fun and I must go back to learning it soon. Three months in French Polynesia and the only sentence I can put together is, "Est-ce que vous avez quelque chose pour diarrhée?" ("Do you have something for diarrhea?"). We find ourselves saying greetings and using expressions of gratitude from the previous country we visited. Vanuatu's first language is called Bislama although English is spoken as well. Bislama is an interesting one. You can get a taste of Bislama by looking at public signs: "Pablik Laebri Blong Port Vila" (Port Vila Public Library) or "Vanuatu Kaljoral Senta" (Vanuatu Cultural Center).

Here's another example in a children's story:

Storian blong Mun mo San
Long long taem bifo i bin gat tufala fren
We oli singaotem San mo Mun
Tufala i bin pleiplei tugeta altaem
Wan dei nao

Translation:
The Legend of Moon and Sun
Long ago there were two friends called Sun and Moon
They always played together
One day....

That's the written form. In spoken form, one would ask, what's the communication like? It happened to be in a public bathroom that I engaged in a conversation with a local woman. After a couple of minutes into it, I realized she was speaking in Bislama and I in English. I believe the look on our faces changed as we both understood and accepted that we were speaking different languages. But interestingly, we smiled and continued on. It is true that a significant percentage of our communication is nonverbal. I appreciate the importance of a smile when interacting with people. Although languages may differ, when it comes to communicating about which fish is safe to eat in a certain bay or how to cook an unfamiliar root vegetable, it just all seems to work!

Hyo-jung

A month aboard IO in Fiji

2010-10-16T19:50:00.000-07:00

Fiji. Images of paradise come to mind and rightfully so. We spent one glorious month on the Northern and Western islands of Fiji and could have spent another year without hesitation.

october 11th, 2010 a small fish in a big pond

2010-10-12T19:42:00.000-07:00

I am a small fish in a big pond.

Vanuatu. Anchored position: S17 34 E168 12

I do realize that we are floating in the South Pacific Ocean which is the biggest pond of all, but during most of this trip, with the exception of Suwarrow atoll, I have been one of the largest predators on the reef looking for a meal. Of course, there are always reef sharks and, without fail, the more sharks the better the fishing. However, here in Vanuatu, the game has changed slightly. We are anchored in another pristine bay with the usual assortment of palm tree lined white sand beaches and 28 oC turquoise water. Our morning routine consists of waking early and heading out with the boys for our morning swim/spearfishing in hopes of procuring supper. Tonga was heavily overfished and was hard to find a fish big enough to eat. Fiji was better but still, large fish were few and far between. Vanuatu abounds with monsters. When I say I am a small fish, yesterday I got in the water and within thirty seconds I was six meters away from a fish the size of a fridge! I was face to mouth with a Goliath Grouper (Epinephelus lanceolatus) measuring well over two meters long and in excess of two hundred kilograms! The reef shark's mouth is not that big and supposing one bit you (so unlikely) it would just do that - bite you. This grouper, however, could have easily engulfed my entire torso in one gulp. I was so amazed at its girth that I just floated there and stared at it. Oddly, it moved away from me despite the fact that I was in no way a threat to it.

Today Jamie and I were on the reef for a total over five hours and were within meters of a 1.5 meter, 40 kg Buffalo Head Parrot fish (Bolbometopon muricatum), a 2 meter, 180 kg Napoleon Wrasse (Cheilinus undulates), five white-tip reef sharks, a 2.5 meter Gray reef shark, and three Spotted eagle rays. The highlight was a half hour before sunset. The light was angled in the water in such a way that it made the beautiful streaked wavy "god" light. I had just begun a 12 meter dive over the edge of the reef when I was startled by a spotted eagle ray approaching fast over my right shoulder. My startle caused it to startle and fly directly into a 2.5 meter white tip reef shark, which in turn startled and bolted off into the distance. I surfaced to find Jamie laughing because he had witnessed the whole scene. He then pointed out a one-meter-long Coral grouper and we both followed it from a distance to see where it would stop. I lagged behind a bit and when I had swum the last 30 meters to Jaime, I found him jabbering and gesturing like mad. I finally got out of him that a two meter, 200 + kg Yellowfin Tuna had just swam within meters of him. To top it off, while motoring back to Totem and IO in the dinghy, three dolphins approached the dinghy, so we jumped in and briefly swam with them before they took off. What a day!

I have felt guilty for not blogging in months. I think it is because that "sailing the South Pacific" has become a bit routine. Believe me that I do realize how awesome this experience is. Soon enough I will be back in office-traffic land lamenting our return, but for here and for now, our daily routine has become normal and therefore does not seem spectacular enough to share on a daily basis. Our repetition consists of a long boring sail for days and days ended by a stressful approach to land. When you are most weary at the end of the sail, you get to immediately deal with the Immigration and Customs to check in a new country. "No, I don't have Cholera", "No, there are no rats aboard with Cholera", "And No, nobody died on the passage from Cholera" etc. We go to the ATM to get out a new set of funny money, and try to remember the conversion "was that a thousand dollars or a thousand Tong for that hamburger?", "No wait, we are in Vanuatu now, so that was a thousand Vatu!" I used to get excited about using new currencies in different countries; admittedly it's getting to be a bit of a blur. We see new shaped faces and hear new languages while spending the new "pesos" to get provisions. Then it's off to find the best anchorage based on where I think the most pristine reefs (i.e. farthest from people) and spearfishing might be. We then explore every coral-head in the area, hike, explore and investigate. Then re-provision for the next passage and check out of the country. Begin the long, boring/terrifying sail to next island group, and repeat!
This will all end soon. Way too soon.

October 4th, 2010 Venus

2010-10-04T01:10:00.003-07:00

We are on our way towards Vanuatu. I've been able to read and cook with the usual amount of discomfort and minimal swearing. I looked at the night sky and Venus, my friend, is as bright as I've ever seen her. The moon is hidden tonight so Venus' light takes over and reflects on the water surface. It is absolutely beautiful. It occurs to me that passage making is one of the few times when we experience no light pollution. The night sky.... the milky way.... it is so special. It would be perfect if it wasn't moving around so much. I would like to see the night sky like this on land. Where do I need to go, the north pole? Or the south pole? Then, with a big SLAP, a spray of saltwater touches me and I immediately turn grumpy. Sigh.....

Hyo-jung

October 2nd, 2010 Leaving Fiji

2010-10-04T01:10:00.002-07:00

The following is a poem written by Totem:

Oso & IO, our comrades divine,
We know that our happiness is also thine,
Those who call parting sweet sorrow don't know
The circles of life in which we cruisers flow.

We know there's a time and a place - a boat
We just have to wait and we'll all be afloat
At an atoll, islet or a bay
Sharing a sunset and rehashing the day
So when you hear GayJo or Rummy or Hoy
You'll know fellow travelers are coming to play.

September 30, 2010

2010-10-04T01:10:00.001-07:00

Our time in Fiji is coming to an end. This was a month full of unexpected events, many sayings of bula (hello), moce (good-bye), and vinaka (thank you). We did not expect to meet a Korean cruising couple heading to Korea. Blue Chip was the boat name and we were happy to meet each other. Nor did we expect to have a feast with Oso Blanco and Totem at a Korean restaurant in Namaka. Yummy!

In Yalobi village on Waya island, we met with the chief and presented kava for sevusevu. He clapped his hands in a sideway cupping motion and chanted something in Fijian which included the words "Canada" and "Vinaka (thank you)". We went for a hike one day with Totem and Syzygy. After the hike we learned that it would cost us ten Fijian dollars per person fee for our guide. As much as we felt that it put a damper on the experience, I had to think about this for a while. In many of the places that we have visited so far, many people have told us, straight up, "We are poor". Although we don't consider ourselves rich by any means and as much as I hate to be associated with the term "yachties", we are perceived as such. As stated in a guidebook I was reading, it is true that charging fees for tourist attractions such as traditional dances or walking to a cave or waterfall is common in every country. I also agree that it is one of the few ways that villagers can earn money and it is ecologically better than selling their forest or marine resources. But maybe it's the dirtbag in me.... ten dollars seemed a bit steep for a fee.

Hyo-jung

September 27, 2010 "A Big Bula!"

2010-10-04T01:10:00.000-07:00

In one of our encounters with a Fijian, I have been thinking of a man named Marika. Marika has been working as a pest-control person for the last 11 years in the islands of the Yasawa group and the Mamanucas. In our conversation about Fijian culture and people, Marika talked about the fact that it takes a while to break the ice with Fijians. Despite the fact that English is the official language, they are very shy about speaking English to foreigners. This is because some Fijians don't want to make mistakes in front of their fellow Fijians and be ridiculed later. In a one-to-one conversation, it is easy to talk in English, but in a group, some people become shy about speaking English. (This is similar to Mike's experience in Korea. One-on-one, the effort to converse in English was greater; but in a group setting, no one would speak to him and he thought they were ignoring him.) Marika said that "a big bula" is just the way to break the ice. Bula is "Hello" in Fijian and it means 'health'.

As he became comfortable with us, Marika shared his observation of tourists. As he made hand gestures of a busily moving thumb, he said, "They're all so addicted to their ipods or blackberries no matter what they're doing. I took some people to see the land in my car, and I can see them all working on their little blackberries or whatever. They seem to live in a small world." So he thinks we live in a small world because we are engaged in our electronic gadgets. When I inquired about the conservative dress code in Fiji, he said, "The white people came and said we need to cover down to our ankles. We were all naked before that. A few years later, they come back wearing bikinis. What the heck." Then he proceeded to comment that foreigners like to "work out" but ask for a safety harness when an opportunity is given to climb up a coconut tree. "We use our arms and legs. What safety harness?" All right, I'm not a big fan of tourons (tourist + moron) who sit by a pool when the soft coral capital of the world is ten meters away. However, I thought his observation of tourists was perhaps unfair and that it was unfortunate that his encounters with foreigners only consisted of the selected population of tourists.
Since we don't have fancy iphones or ipads, we pulled out our monster Macbook and showed him pictures of ourselves climbing mountains. Limestone, sandstone, granite, glaciers; helmets, harnesses, ropes, gear, puffy jackets; big boots. Mike said, "Before we came here, we used to spend lots of time in the mountains. Now we are spending time in the ocean to learn about being in the big world." Marika seemed to acquire a new sense of respect for this and nodded his head.

When I asked Marika where he recommends we go in Fiji, he said, "To see real Fiji, you have to go to the Lau group. To recharge myself, that's where I go. Here, you go to the islands, they are interested in your money. In the Lau group, they put Fiji in your heart. They want to put Fiji in your hearts. You know what moce (pronounced "mo-thay") means? It means, 'we will meet again' and it also means 'we will never see each other again'." He placed both of his hands on top of his chest as he said this. I felt that he was very genuine in his love for Fiji. The Lau group is a group of islands on the easternmost Fiji and considered to be less touched by tourism. For cruisers, boats have to check into Savusavu, obtain a cruising permit, then retrace back and beating into the wind to visit these islands. Most boats with certain time schedules, like us, are not thrilled about turning back. I know we are missing out. However, this year, perhaps I can justify not going there as there is a dengue feaver outbreak and that would not be good anyway.
Hyo-jung

September 9, 2010 Sevusevu

2010-09-09T02:11:00.001-07:00

September 9, 2010 Sevusevu

Something we anticipate in our upcoming travels to a village on an island is a ceremony called Sevusevu. The following is blatantly stolen from the handout given by Waitui Marina:

"Upon arrival to a village or inhabited island, a gift of yaqona, also known as kava, is normally presented to the village mayor, the Turaga ni Koro, or to the village chief, Turaga ni Vanua, if he is present.
The preferred presentation is ½ kg of unpounded Kava root for yachts. The Sevusevu is a solemn ceremony where a village man acts as a spokesman for the villagers. If the Sevusevu is accepted, the chief will welcome the visitors to his village offering protection and all reasonable assistance within the village boundaries. If you plan on fishing for dinner, please ask for permission as well. You may be invited to join in around the kava or grog tanoa (bowl). It is customary to drink the bilo (cup) of grog in one long swallow. When you are presented with the bilo, you clap once. When you finish the contents, return the bilo and clap three times."

Since Tonga, the outfit I can wear to town has been reduced to one. The dress code is very conservative and women in general have their shoulders and knees covered. Here in Savusavu, most women are in skirts and they are quite pretty. Like a school uniform, I wear my purple skirt and long-sleeve white shirt every day and it's quite simple. Men also wear a long skirt called Sulu as it is probably disrespectful to show up in surf shorts or speedos. Mike and Jamie each bought a Sulu and we can't wait until we see them in action.

We just had our last curry dinner in town and returned. Indulging in some New Zealand ice cream, we sat by the docks and listened to Pate's band playing music. Pate is a multi-talented man who works at Waitui marina who took Mike and Jamie out spear fishing to his village. We learned many things about his family and culture. He has a teddy bear kind of face that displays pure kindness. What gives him that special mellow character? Could I possibly learn such qualities? After we said good-bye and rowed away in the dark, I felt sad about leaving. Savusavu has been a special one.

Hyo-jung

September 3, 2010 Savusavu continued

2010-09-09T02:11:00.000-07:00

September 3, 2010

Mike and Jamie are out spearfishing for wahoo with a local dude. So far, we are loving it in Fiji. As the days go by, we are finding out more about this island, Vanua Levu, and this place has a lot to offer. Yesterday, we went on an all day inland road trip with Totem. We hired a very reliable driver and drove through the lush rain forest in the morning, had lunch at a beautiful eco-agritourism lodge (Palmlea Lodge), and spent the evening at the sugarcane festival in Labasa (pronounced "Lambasa").

We stopped at a Hindu temple and found Ganesh (a popular Hindu God) in pink. With some difficulty, thanks to Behan, we visited the Wasavulu ceremonial site. This is a spot in the Lonely Planet guidebook, but not many locals seemed to know where it was. After giving a gift of kava to the chief, a young woman gave us a tour of the site, right in their backyard next to a family cemetery. Pointing to a flat stone, the woman spoke, in a matter-of-fact manner, "And here, we used to sacrifice people on this." Next, pointing to a stone with a divet in the middle, she said, "And here, the head was put to drain the blood to drink." In the meantime, the village women have fallen in love with the blond kids on Totem and can't seem to get enough of hugging them. Watching their interactions, I had a hard time picturing the stabbing a "cannibal fork (available in handicraft stores)" into another human being.

At the Sugarcane Festival, I ate cotton candy and got on sketchy rides together with six-year-olds. We were invited to sit with the locals under a tent to drink kava and hang out. We were told that Fijians consider Tongan kava to be "a lady's grog" and people in Vanuatu apparently consider Fijian kava the same weak sauce. We had enough time to watch one performance of music and dance which was super awesome before returning home at 11:30pm. The people we've met were genuinely friendly and easy to make friends with.

Good food at a cheap price is a welcome change from French Polynesia. It's interesting that whether you go to a Chinese or an Indian restaurant, the menu is identical: chicken/mutton curry, chicken/mutton fried rice, chicken/mutton chop suey & chow mein. And the curries are delicious!

Hyo-jung

Full size Suwarrow Video

2010-09-08T23:18:00.000-07:00

I have now up loaded the full size Suwarrow video. You can have a better quality look at that pristine piece of heaven.

Aboard IO in Tonga

2010-09-08T21:47:00.000-07:00

August 30, 2010 Savusavu, Fiji

2010-08-31T12:19:00.001-07:00

16? 46.6'S 179?19.7' E
Welcome to the eastern hemisphere! Yay! When at sea, the passages turn into a big blur. But on the charts, it is a significant event to be crossing a certain mark such as the Tropic of Cancer, the equator (to the southern hemisphere), the international date line, and now to the eastern hemisphere. During the last five months, whenever I make a phone call to Korea, I realize the time difference between my location and Korea is decreased. I think the last time my parents and I were on the same date was 14 years ago.
We had a relatively benign four day passage from Vava'u, Tonga to Savusavu, Fiji. The first three days were rolly polly going dead downwind. Mike had a birthday en route. Good thing we had an early celebration with friends. After we passed the easternmost Lau group, the seas were calm for the last 120nm. I said "benign" passage, but to be honest, I'm much relieved to be done with this passage as it was loaded with uncharted hazards.
(Mike:) I'll expand on Hyo's description of uncharted hazards. Before we entered Tonga, we passed over the Tongan trench. This feature in the earth's crust is a subduction zone where one tectonic plate is being pushed under the other and results in a very active geological area. The trench we crossed over reached a depth of over 9,000 meters (29,000 feet)! We passed over the deepest place at night and while it was not technically different than any other of our crossings, it was kind of eerie to know there was over 9 km of water under the keel! Also, given its remoteness, it remains one of the least explored regions of the sea depths. I spent the night wondering what beasts must be watching us pass above aboard tiny IO. Tonga is then on the other side of the interaction, the part where the opposing tectonic plate is being pushed up above the ocean's surface. West of the Tongan islands lies many "hotspots" where volcanic activity is widespread. You may recall a while ago an email was passed around where a sailboat was sailing past a new island that was being pushed up out of the sea right before the sailor's eyes. Magma was being spurted out to form new rock and in a very short time, an entire new island was formed. After we left Tonga, we sailed passed this and 50 other such sites of "new land" that no one has had a chance to chart properly. We had a sketchy list of "uncharted dangers" that was compiled from other sailors that had either seen one of these anomalies or had been wrecked on one in the dark and had survived to tell the location! I must admit I was nervous on that 3 day passage and kept getting up in the night and looking out expecting to see a volcanic eruption dead in our path. At times the sailing business is bloody stressful!
We are now in the northern island of Fiji called Vanua Levu which apparently has a very large East Indian population from way back when they moved here to work on the sugarcane plantations. Upon arrival, as usual, we went through the check-in process with the Health inspector, Customs & Immigration, and Quarantine/Agriculture. While completing the paperwork, one of the customs officers sitting in the cockpit asked, "What is that contraption?", pointing to our propane heater inside the cabin. We explained that we once had three inches of snow on deck in Victoria two winters ago. We received blank stares of disbelief. Once the "ship's master" (me) has signed the form detailing that we did not have plague, cholera, dysentery or any deaths aboard during our passage caused from these illnesses, we were permitted to go ashore and had very authentic curry for dinner.

Hyo-jung & M

August 29, 2010 Tonga

2010-08-31T12:19:00.000-07:00

Hmm.our Tonga experience. What can I say? Eric on Oso Blanco told me that he had a bit of a writer's block for putting an entry in his blog because he felt that he did not want to sound like a "grouchy American tourist". I'm afraid I share this sentiment. We had not written much this time, not because we were having a blast like in Suwarrow, but because there was nothing significantly positive and only a few negative things to write about. It is true that, were it not for our friends Totem and Oso Blanco, we probably would have left much earlier. But it is what it is, so here goes..

Of the four major island groups in Tonga, we visited the northernmost one called Vava'u. The numerous limestone-cliff islands provided a different kind of stimulation for the eyes compared to the atolls. We had come quite further south and the cooler temperature was a welcome change. Breathing in crisp cold air in the morning was very refreshing! As we took an evening walk through the residential part of town with Totem, the frequent sightings of pigs and adorable piglets, which apparently exceed the human population, had us all giggling.
Over the course of the following two weeks, our experience was a bit tarnished due to the ex-patriot business owners who dominate the local businesses. The morning radio net on channel 26 gave us a glimpse of the vibe of the cruiser community and ongoing issues. There's always one vocal person who likes his stage personality a bit too much and there is always at least one of those in every cruising community. One issue that seemed to be the subject of debate was regarding safe whale watching practices. While similar industry in the Pacific NW went through growing pains perhaps 20 years ago, both Canada and US currently have well-established guidelines. What we observed was that a guideline existed but it was set by the Whale Watching Association of Tonga which is not an actual authority and is composed of the eco-tour business owners -say, conflict of interest?
(Insert Mike:) This is apparently the last place on earth where you can swim with the whales. Even one of the companies is named "Endangered Encounters". While every other country with an eco-tourism industry has deemed it unwise to put tourists in the water with whales, Tongan businesses have exploited this lack of insight by the Tongan Kingdom and base their businesses on a "swim with the whales" theme. There was some tension between some cruisers and ex-pat business owners who then try to claim that is not safe for cruisers with their own boats to go and swim with the whales and that it is only safe if you pay for the service with a local operator. One would then expect, based on this argument, that the local operators have specific training or knowledge that allows safe whale viewing. Our friends on Oso Blanco who paid to go on one of these whale excursion trips reported that when the whales were found, the boat went full throttle towards the whales and these were the exact words from the boat captain: "Get in and swim as fast as you can at the whales!" Evidently, there is a double standard in practice: The whale watching company was not following their own guidelines to 1) keep the distance of 300 meters between whales and humans, 2) have a dive flag up, or 3) have no more than 4 people in the water at a time. Yet when it came to cruisers, in the name of protecting the whales, our friends in their dinghy were harassed by a whale watching boat even though they were complying with the so-called regulations.
It became obvious that these business owners view Tonga as basically the wild west where anything goes, and you grab what you can when you can. It was a very disappointing experience to see how the foreigners exploit the local Tongan resources without regard for established first-world eco-tourism practices and treat the place as a money grab without regard to the true locals or wildlife.
Another interesting but disappointing observation was regarding a capsized catamaran. A few weeks ago, a 57-foot catamaran named Ana had capsized en route to Tonga. The owners were rescued off by a freighter and their boat drifted towards Tonga. You see, there is something called salvage rights - whoever comes upon an abandoned boat may claim a finder's fee up to the full value of the boat. Although I did not hear the details, just having the radio on revealed a glimpse of the tension between the vultures out there looking for the capsized boat. Imagine being the owners of the boat, having gone through a traumatic event of having your boat capsized, having to abandon it, and be rescued. Your boat is badly damaged and it must be stressful enough moving on from there without other vultures to deal with. And for such activities to come from other cruisers!
On the contrary, none of the above were noticed when we visited various anchorages and villages away from town. Natural beauty does not hide itself and it was lovely to walk through the iron-rich red soiled islands, seeing a tapioca tree for the first time. Together with Totem and Oso Blanco, we were invited to visit the local government public schools to meet the kids and teachers and exchange gifts. The kids sang us traditional songs (and what voices they carried!!) and we left school supplies and toys. Thanks again to the Mulhollands who brought many donated items for children. We found them very useful and much appreciated by the locals we met. The children go to school in the villages until age 12. Starting age 13, they must stay find a way to live in town for the remaining school years, either by living with relatives or by having the family split during weekdays and reuniting for weekends. We learned from a man who gave us a tour that the population in these islands is decreasing as young people move to New Zealand or elsewhere for employment and take their parents with them.
Christianity is huge in Tonga. Nowhere else had we felt such presence. It was in the school uniforms, cross necklaces, and in the Sunday morning songs carried from about six different churches. We learned that the Mormon church spends more money on infrastructure than the King. We asked the local villager about Tonga's traditional religious beliefs and he answered that it is similar to the Methodist church. I did not know what to make of that.
In town, visiting the local market was probably my favorite part. I felt it was easy to make friends with the ladies at the market. It was a learning experience on how to trade our items for their handi-crafts, tapa cloths, and coconut shell bowls (for kava). On the day of departure, we were blessed to have a rare shipment of apples from New Zealand. I had not had an apple in about four weeks, since Bora Bora, and was never so happy to take a satisfactory bite into a crunchy apple. Also, thanks to Behan on Totem, in a place where yogurt was not available, we started making yogurt ourselves and enjoyed it every day. Pure joy in the simplest things!
So overall, it was a strange mix of different vibes we felt in Tonga. In our observations, we have not forgotten that there are exceptions: like the lady in town who is apparently interested in the education of the local youth and supports the library. Overwhelmingly, it was our friends that made the experience enjoyable.

Hyo-jung & M

I have to take the time to write about this one.

2010-08-20T10:11:00.000-07:00

August 19, 2010

After spending five marginally fun or downright miserable days in Neiafu, we are now back with our comrades Oso Blanco and Totem where every day is truly a new adventure. We are back to the usual routine of snorkeling, spearfishing and exploring each new reef. The reefs here harbor tremendous biodiversity with many new faces and numerous color changes on old faces compared to the reef life at Suwarrow or the Society islands. Also the Southern ocean Humpback population is here for calving season and many whales can be seen spouting in close to shore.

Yesterday we heard from a local Tongan man that snorkeling on the reef at night is often very productive for catching lobsters. Until now we have not done much night snorkeling on the outer reef because that's when the Tiger sharks come in to forage. Of all the close shark encounters we have had so far, that's not one I'm willing to risk. However, we were assured by this local that there are no big sharks at this location at night, so off we went, lobster spears and flashlights in hand. The reef we were perched on was on the outer side of all the Tongan islands and abruptly drops off to over 1000 meters (3000 feet) deep. Eric, Jamie and I entered the dark water and snorkeled around a bit enjoying the night reef life. An abundance of nocturnal squirrelfish, pufferfish, seafeathers (crinoids) and shrimp were about, but clearly no lobsters were to be seen. While at the surface of the water you can hear both the water splashing on your head and your breathing through the snorkel, while at depth during a dive, there is only the sound of the reef, that being mostly the snap-crackling of the snapping shrimp. However, on this night while holding your breath underwater, you could clearly hear the billowing song of the Humpback whales that were not so far off in the distance.
As we ended our snorkel and approached the dinghy, the three of us turned off our lights and just floated above the moonlight reef. There, on the edge of that abyss, we hung weightless, while basking in a personal concert of whale-song as it was carried off into the ocean deep.

Nejafu, Tonga

2010-08-16T14:18:00.000-07:00

August 16, 2010

We are currently in the town of Nejafu, which is the main harbor in the Vava'u group of Tonga. Getting here was not much fun as the seas were rough and uncomfortable to the point that I got seasick, not something that has happened in a long time. The town is interesting and obviously poor. Oddly there are a large percentage of Canadian, American and British business owners here, which has added a very first world flavor to the otherwise rundown and poor community. While shopping for fresh vegetables at the local market we were presented with ample opportunity to dispense many of the toys and school supply's that we have been carrying with us. I had often grumbled about having to store this stuff in our limited hold but the smiles of the children more than compensated for that burden.

We have not yet explored the local islands as we have been trying to reprovision and get some email done. I have already spent over $25 on internet fees and countless hours to try to upload our new shark filled Suwarrow Atoll video and still have not been able to get it loaded. I also got a bad case of food poisoning and have been down for a couple of days. So far we have not thoroughly enjoyed Tonga but we hope to get out of the main harbor and begin to do so.

Suwarrow Atoll, truly remote, truly pristine

2010-08-15T18:45:00.000-07:00

Our time at Suwarrow Atoll. An oasis in the middle of the vast Pacific, 1300 km from the nearest populated island, lies this tropical paradise.

Hell, Heaven, Hell, repeat!

2010-08-09T21:22:00.000-07:00

August 8 2010.

Soon it will be august 7th! We are about to cross the date line and loose a day. We are currently about 170 nautical miles out of Tonga. I have not written in a while because we have been having a horrible set of passages broken up by a week in true paradise where I was too exhausted from having fun to write!

We left Bora Bora and had a hellacious 8-day passage to Suwarrow Atoll. The only cool thing I remember from those 8 days of wind driven hell, was being outside at 3 am and watching a large moonlit ghostly shape slide up next to IO. This creature was about the same size as IO as it paralleled our starboard side. It did not break the surface, it only hung illuminated under the full moon, then submerged under IO. A moment later a 2-meter (6 foot) dorsal fin pierced the water and rose to the height of our deck only meters from IOs port side. It was the unmistakable dorsal fin of a large bull Killer Whale silhouetted against the moonlit water. Briefly, a second and then a third shape moved past IO, then disappeared into the darkness. I never heard even so much as a breath.

Suwarrow turned out to be my absolute favorite place on this voyage so far, a true paradise. My only regret is that I did not write about our adventures there every day. I was too exhausted from those adventures. The reef was pristine; the animal life was how I imagined a pristine coral reef to be. There were so many sharks and our tolerance of them grew daily. What on day one seemed like stupidity, on day 3 became the norm. We spearfished with the ranger every day. We gutted the daily catch standing in knee deep water surrounded by blacktip reef sharks waiting for scraps. Every day spearfishing along side three species of reef sharks brought new adrenalin, new experience and thankfully no new scars. Along with the crew of Oso Blanco and Totem and Apii our ranger host, we explored every corner of the tiny atoll. We lobster fished at night on the outer reef, and had sharks chew freshly speared fish off the end of my spear. We feasted on massive coconut crabs that were abundant on the tiny islands. We shared our catch every night ashore with friendly potlucks and the carcasses went to the sharks. Apii shared his knowledge of the reef life and sincere smile while James (picture a Polynesian Hagred from harry potter) demonstrated his Bar-BQ skills as these kindly hosts shared this tiny island with us. We found pure fun in that heaven, a thousand kilometers from nowhere. Don't worry, I have footage!

It is day 5 and we are now 160 miles from Vava'u Tonga, the weather forecast is deteriorating and by tomorrow we will be beating into 25 knots of wind strait on the nose. These passages got old thousands of miles ago. The islands we visit are paradise, the passages between are hell.

The itch

2010-07-19T10:54:00.000-07:00

July 19, 2010

We have enjoyed our time here. But now the itch grows and grows. So far on this South Pacific trip we have been to island groups that although remote, were accessible to others. Both the Marquesas and Tuamotoes had regular flights to at least the major islands and many of the outlying islands were not out of reach for those who are willing. And of course the Society islands (Tahiti, Moorea, Bora Bora etc.) are very popular. However, where we are going now is truly remote. There are no flights, or transport freighters that go here. You cannot access these islands unless you own your own yacht. I have been told they are pristine and represent an oasis of biological diversity that can only persist when humans are a rare occurrence. Our next intended stop is Suwarrow Atoll which lies nearly 700 NM (1300 Km) West-North-West of Bora Bora, about a week at sea for us. We are currently provisioning, making last minute repairs and constantly checking the weather looking for a good window.

French Polynesia has been fun. We have enjoyed the French influence of morning baguettes, Nutella and cheese. The Chinese influence has filled our bellies with Chow Main, which is a Polynesian favorite and can be purchased at any of the evening rouletts - a van parked on the side of the road that is the local restaurant.

We have been in the South Pacific for almost three months now and looking at the chart reveals that we have barely covered 1/3 of the distance to Australia, a distance that we have to cover before the South Pacific hurricane season begins in November. Given that there are thousands of islands that one could visit between here and there, and we have barely 4 months to get through here (with over a month of that as sea time), we have to choose our destinations carefully and not lament about the countless places “we could have gone”. However, our experiences so far has been that we have enjoyed each place we have stopped to the fullest and we were always sad to leave, which I guess is the best way to go.

Diving Bora Bora

2010-07-18T12:24:00.000-07:00

I have been diving with Ken on s/v Trim and Eric on m/v Oso Blanco with all the incredible sea life here which include some of the largest specimens of sea cucumbers I have seen.

Pure fun in Moorea

2010-07-15T15:59:00.000-07:00

Here is some footage of playing with the stingrays in Moorea.

Bora Bora Lemons

2010-07-15T10:35:00.000-07:00

July 15, 2010

Play time! We have been diving and snorkeling every day, all day. Yesterday I dove the outer reef with four Lemon sharks (Negaprion brevirostris) that were 3-4 meters (9-12 feet) in length. It was not so much the overall length that was impressive but the girth of these animals. They were just so large that I was completely dwarfed by them. They were not whale-shark large, but they are just such a cool big bad ass "shark" looking shark, with large protruding rows of teeth and an awe inspiring grace about them, that to be in their presence was humbling. I was diving with my partner Ken off sv Trim, at about 90 feet when I saw movement of something large behind a corral head. I thought it was a large fish heading our way, which of course it was, but when the whole of this animal came into view, I to take a deep breath and focus on identifying which species its was. We descended right to the bottom and grabbed onto a rock for stability while this exceedingly large animal moved directly for us. The shark gracefully swam unswervingly toward Ken until it was less than a body length from him, face to face, before it veered off. It was then I noticed three more animals circling the coral-heads that we were holding onto. We just sat there, hanging on to the rock, amongst these massive animals swimming all around us, slowly, gracefully.

Bora Bora

2010-07-12T00:15:00.000-07:00

We have just pulled into Bora Bora after a quick trip through the rest of the society islands. They have been picture perfect and beautiful, but very populated. The weather has been a bit unpredictable and we broke our main sail traveler so we had to get that fixed in Raitaea. Other than that all is well but I am looking forward to getting back to places remote.

Play time in French Polynesia

2010-07-07T14:58:00.000-07:00

Finally we are living the dream!

IO's 28 day Pacific Crossing

2010-06-30T02:02:00.000-07:00

Here is a video of our 28 day voyage from North America to French Polynesia in the South Pacific.

From Kevin & Tash

2010-06-29T19:39:00.001-07:00

Kevin and I wanted to thank you both for an unbelievable vacation. Both the highs and the lows are an experience we will soon not forget, although it's only the highs I can think of right now. The amazing ocean life, both on land and in the water. The different people and their boats we met and will remember forever. The infinite stars, beautiful moon and sun rises. The sunrises on Moorea were amazing. The indescribable blue of the water. It's really interesting when I mention to people the demographic that we met sailing. "how can they afford to live like that"? or " they must be rich". I just laugh and tell them anything is possible when you are determined, aren't focused on material wealth and chose to live your dream. I am also getting a lot of comments on" what a glamorous way to live" or "how romantic". Again I just laugh, if they only knew how glamorous and romantic sea sickness is or staying awake all night to the rocking of the boat and the sound of chain rubbing on coral! Wondering how big the swells will get.

Hyo, I am still in awe when I think of the wonderful meals you produced in a three foot square space and with limited resources. Fresh hot coffee every morning regardless of "conditions" I know I would not have been able to do the same. Mike, thank you for your fishing skills, I know I will never eat fish so fresh ever again. It was also a very special treat to be in the middle of the Pacific Ocean with someone so vast with knowledge about the area. I know I not only appreciate the education about every little life form, but I also felt much safer knowing that you would warn us of potential dangers. I had know idea needle fish have killed people! Thanks to you both for taking care of us, giving us the trip of a lifetime, and keeping us safe.

June 26, 2010 Arrival in Tahiti

2010-06-26T14:32:00.001-07:00

June 26, 2010
Point Venus, Arue, Tahiti
S17 31.4 W149 32.1

We raised Tahiti out of the horizon at about 1 AM yesterday. Under a near full moon, the grand outline of the island came into focus as we sailed in light winds carrying all the sail that IO could manage. I spent my shift (midnight till morning) silently working the winds from three squalls to get us near shore. As the sun rose, we could make out Point Venus, the historical landing point of both Captians Cook and Bligh and the sight where the mutineers of the sailing ship Bounty returned to after they took control. We were guided into a local marina overlooking this place by our friends aboard Totem and Capaz.

While approaching Tahiti, at about 2 AM, I heard a French voice come on the VHF and give some coordinates that sounded close to us. A minute later the same voice, only speaking good English spoke again: "This is the French War-ship P802 calling the vessel off our port side at coordinates xxxxx, traveling on a course of 241 degrees at 4 knots, do you read me?" Crap, that's us! Seriously, does the navy of every country that we visit have to bother me? I mean really, we are the smallest boat on the bloody ocean, how much threat could we be? It turned out to be no big deal as usual, they just wanted to confirm our status and get our country of registration. It was most likely some bored radio operator with nothing better to do. But after I was hailed by the nuclear submarine in the strait of Juan de Fuca aboard my last boat (buy me a drink and I'll tell you that story some time), I find being hailed by the military of any country, simply annoying! And just for interest sake, since IO is a Canadian-registered vessel, we are bound by some archaic law that says IO is, in part, owed by the Queen of England and if any navy other than the Canadian navy tries to board her, it is considered an act of war! Cool, huh? If a foreign country wants to board us, they have to send their coast guard; it can't be the navy (as was done in the US several times and in the Marquesas).

As it turns out, we arrived here at the same time as Escapade, the other 30-foot sailboat that we met in La Cruz. We all went ashore to do the usual, find laundry, a grocery store and generally explore. While we were ashore, we saw a poster with a beautiful Tahitian woman on it saying that the 50th anniversary Miss Tahiti was being held tonight. The general consensus between Jim, Brendon, myself and surprisingly Hyo was that we definitely needed to experience some Tahitian culture. I will say that after being at sea for so long, all that drumming, dancing, hip shaking and exposed skin.WOW. And remember that I was with a beautiful woman the whole time at sea! (I think young Brendon was well and truly enthralled by that particular experience.) I admit that I may have been counted as one of the mutineers if that was what I was to return to!

Three days at sea is still a long passage, especially when the winds are light and the slatting of the main sail was enough to blow out three webbing sail slide attachments! More repairs, more sewing, but I cannot sew until I fix our "new" broken inverter. The Autopilot is busted, the sink fresh water pump is leaking and the list goes on and on. Like I have said before, the highs are so high and lows so low. Despite my whining about the little ongoing repairs, I am actually very grateful. There are two boats beside us that lost their masts somewhere between here and the Marquesas and we have heard many other stories of seriously broken boats including one that was abandoned during the major crossing. IO has been strong and not failed us in any way.

Sailing to Tahiti

2010-06-26T11:29:00.001-07:00

June 23, 2010
Position: S 16 34.4 W146 57.1

We are sailing to Tahiti. That has a nice ring to it, doesn't it? The winds are light but fair and we have said good-bye to the Tuamotus. They have lived up to my expectations. While planning this trip to the South Pacific, there were a couple of places that captured my imagination more than the rest. The deep blue lagoons of the Tuamotus offered me all the remoteness of location and pristine wildlife I had expected. We also ate our fair share of that pristine wildlife, specifically the lobster and the parrot fish! While hanging out with the locals and fellow cruising spear-fisherman, I think I captured parrot fish in every way possible, from throwing 9' long Tahitian spears, using beach seine nets, spearfishing while on snorkel, and of course, the machete fishing.

You may wonder why I picked on the parrot fish when there are so many tasty reef fish to choose from. Ciguatera poisoning is a toxin that affects reef fish in the tropics and is not unlike paralytic shell fish poisoning (red tide) which we have in Canada and Northwest US. This toxin is accumulated in the food chain when grazing fish eat coral that contains a toxic single-celled protozoan (dinoflagellate). This toxin can then be magnified up through the food chain as small and large predators in turn consume the toxic grazing fish. The toxin does not affect the fish but is very toxic to mammals and a dose can cause everything from stomach pain and diarrhea to paralysis and death in humans. We actually met one boat family that had spearfished on the wrong reef and got very sick to the point of needing IV morphine to deal with the pain.
We were fortunate to be able to share this place with many new and old friends and are looking forward to the Society Islands, which have been described by some of the cruisers ahead of us as being "the most beautiful place they have ever seen".

m

June 18, 2010 fire signal

2010-06-21T11:23:00.000-07:00

June 18, 2010

Nothing lasts forever. I could have stayed near Wallis for at least another week, but we had to move anchorages due to weather. It was a touching scene of good-byes. Although we miss him, we are within sight of Wallis' motu and this evening, we saw his fire signal. All is well with Wallis tonight.

June 17, 2010 - Wallis on Toau

2010-06-18T12:10:00.000-07:00

June 17, 2010 - Toau
Anchored in position 16 00.67'S 145 54.80'W

Just when I was starting to think that the postcard picture of turquoise blue lagoons and palm trees seem all the same in the atolls, we moved further south near a beautiful motu (atoll island) and found our paradise. It is absolutely spectacular here. As we approached the shore, noting some houses but no boats, we comment to each other that we are not really craving to be alone right now. And that is when Wallis emerged out of the trees and welcomed us.

Both yesterday and today, Wallis, Mike, and I went spear fishing on the nearby reefs. It is so nice that Mike has a spear fishing partner. Communicating with "C'est bon!" and "No good", hunting seems like an activity that does not require much common language. Besides, you don't speak underwater anyway. It is great that we have local knowledge about which fish are safe from ciguatera poisoning. Getting into our dinghy, Wallis was not shy about expressing his apprehension about the stability of our "petit bato" equipped with oars and a two-horse power engine. (We acquired this engine from another boat back in Nuku Hiva and the little cute engine has extended our playground much farther now.)

Anyway, my job was to take underwater pictures and look out for sharks. After the last couple of "get out of the water!" episodes, I have to admit I'm a bit apprehensive about seeing a grey reef shark appear any time now. I can easily hear the two spear guns firing underwater, so I swim towards the latest catch, and the fish is quickly placed inside the dinghy. The rest of the time, I can leisurely observe parrot fish, unicorn fish, squirrel fish, surgeon fish, groupers, needle fish, etc. and enjoy the corals. I'm enamoured with the giant clams. They display a palate full of beautiful green, purple, and blue colors and pulse, as if to say, "Kiss me!".
Although I don't engage in the activity, it is quite fun to observe the boys spear fishing. In Fakarava, I watched a very skilled local dude dive swiftly, hold himself on a part of a rock and level himself with the fish, and shoot his spear gun with amazing accuracy. It was very graceful. Wallis, maneuvering a spear gun that is longer than his own height, dove so deep for so long, that it was easy to forget that he's underwater. Every time he came up, he laughed, "Very GOOD! Very GOOD!" super giddy, we could not help but laugh with him. Mike dives deep and for a long time, easily on par with the locals. He looks quite beautiful, too. (Especially with the badass tattoo.)
Yesterday evening, we enjoyed our catch roasted over the fire, sitting by a table on the beachfront, watching the sunset. Wallis' dog (Diablo) and cat (Lolita) joined us. Today, Wallis quenched our thirst with coconut milk, made poisson cru with fresh coconut cream, and taught us how to make coconut bread (pain coco) using an oil drum and a metal roofing as an oven - Voila and fantastic! Maybe we're supposed to have certain servings of each recommended food group every day, but I am sure happy with fish and coconuts alone. It's certainly better than the ultra-processed pasta dish I made using canned meat, bendy carrots, and mystery spice in a package.
Wallis owns no shoes. He asked if we had any, so I gave him my Holey Soles. I had nothing else that would fit his wide but small feet. Despite this, when we go for a walk, he still wears no shoes. I can't imagine how he does it because I can feel the sharp coral bits on the beach through my Chaco sandals! Crazy!
Wallis and Mike are both apologetic about not speaking each other's language. We feel more embarrassed because we're the visitors. Nonetheless, we have fun learning words in both French and Tahitian. We learned that he has seven siblings and one 7-year-old daughter. We learned that every night at 6PM, he makes a fire to signal to the other living beings in this atoll, about 4 miles away, a signal that all is well. When one of the three fires are not lit, they are aware that something is wrong. We learned that he chooses to be in Toau and is happy to be here. It is inspiring to meet such a genuinely happy person. Each time after spear fishing, he says "Merci" repeatedly, when we are the ones thankful that he's hanging out with us. We learn to be happy and thankful.
Hyo-jung

GET OUT OF THE WATER!

2010-06-15T20:41:00.000-07:00

June 15, 2010
Toau (Tuamotus)
Position 15 57.8S / 145 52.1W

Here in the Tuamotus, the local people do not measure a shark by the overall length but rather describe the girth of the shark's chest as an indicator of size. I knew the girth of this particularly large Grey Reef shark intimately as I stared directly at it advancing toward me in an aggressive and menacing manor. Just before it reached me, it veered off flashing an arched back (indicating aggression) as it swam around for another pass where it again approached me head on. "GET OUT OF THE WATER!" I yelled to Hyo as I swam rapidly towards the dinghy! That was the second time in less than 24 hours that a large Grey Reef shark (the notably more aggressive of the common local species) has forced me out of the water. The previous night I had been spear fishing near the boat where we were anchored near the Toau Pass. I had speared a large Bumphead parrot fish (Scarus perrico) and unfortunately it had gotten off my spear, and had bled profusely as it swam to a small coral head. I reloaded my spear and my lungs and had just submerged to descend the 25 feet and finish the job when the 6-foot long barrel-chested (large girth) Gray shark arrived on the scene. I aborted and called "GET OUT OF THE WATER" to Hyo and by the time I had gotten back to IO, a mere 40 feet away I saw several Black Tips and the large Grey circling the coral head.

Now this second scenario was fine and justified in my mind and fit my rationale as a biologist and fisherman. Remember that I had swam and SCUBA dove with over 200 hundred of Gray Reef sharks in the Fakarava pass. This time, I speared a fish near the pass (where most Gray Reef sharks hang out during the day) where the possibility of bringing in sharks that are conditioned to the sound of the spear gun is high. It was a large Parrot fish and the unfortunate gut-shot had incurred a lot of blood loss, so justifiably I was not surprised at the sharks arriving so quickly. Nor was I surprised at their searching behavior and disinterest of me. But, still best to get out of the water in a calm and controlled manner.
What bothers me about the first account is that we were not spear fishing or otherwise doing anything that we have not done before. We had taken the dinghy out to snorkel the pass during the incoming flood tide. We had seen another boat do the same on the previous day. In fact, they had floated it twice and told us that it was good and noted how many sharks there were. So when we got in the water and within a mere 30 seconds I was being confronted by this aggressive Gray Reef shark, I was admittedly surprised! For the record, I would NOT describe my reaction to be near or in the order of true panic, but I was fast, reactive and perhaps a bit hasty! I was back in the dinghy faster than I have ever been and my heart was racing! Upon reflection I should have stayed in the water near the dinghy and watched the sharks' behavior in a calm and perhaps more aggressive manner on my part.
This incident has made me feel a bit sheepish as I have now said to many many cruisers (now being well known as the local marine biologist!) that "the local sharks are harmless as long as you pay attention to their behavior and are not spear fishing or doing other things that might provoke them". We did move further south into the atoll and I have been spear fishing since then with no sharks being drawn in.
We had the incredible experience of meeting two local teenagers that love fishing. After working hard at their copra (dried coconut meat) farms all day, they still set out at night to go fishing and lobster hunting. Dressed for the kill in a one-piece wetsuit and with open rain barrels strapped on their backs, they carried ultra bright white-kerosene lanterns. These skilled boys taught us how to collect lobsters on the outer reef at night and introduced me to "machete fishing" which is ridiculously fun and productive. Basically, while you are looking for lobsters, many of the reef fish are sleeping in small tide pools and you get to whack them in the head with your machete as you plod along the reef in the dark. Pure fun!
Finally, I have also fulfilled another one of my life long goals in that we have hunted and now eaten (only one) a Coconut Crab (Birgus latro). It is related to a hermit crab but does not use a gastropod shell. This large (can be over 9 lbs) land crab makes its living by eating coconuts which it can open and crush with its huge and remarkably tasty claws. It also has been touted as being the fattiest of all crustaceans (hence super tasty) which is no doubt due to eating the fatty coconuts. Admittedly, the velvety ant-like abdomen is not its best feature - actually quite gross in appearance. This abdomen is supposed to contain the bulk of the oil/fat that when done properly, supplies the dipping sauce for the meat and is reported to be heavenly in taste. Unfortunately we have not learned the proper way of cooking them over a fire and our attempt at boiling the sucker resulted in beige goo-juice exploding out of its abdomen which immediately abolished our appetites.

So currently we are the only boat within sight, our life is great, even if it's a bit sharky and a little carnal.

guests

2010-06-13T23:27:00.000-07:00

June 10, 2010
Despite her smaller size compared to the rest of the cruising community, Io seems to earn praises from many sailors. She is strong and performs well and I happen to be quite proud of her. Compared to other 30-footers, she provides standing head room for Mike. She is designed smartly for sailing conditions. When it comes to lounging and entertaining guests, however, she has her limits. It seems like the equivalent of owning a two-seater hatchback sports car and suggesting a car camping road trip for four people. Well, that's pretty much what we did. Yes, it would be nice to offer a separate state room for guests, but what can you do? Forego seeing friends due to space? No.
Our friends have come and gone already. During their 13 days aboard, I believe our friends sampled the highs and lows of cruising.

For example, one day in mill pond calm seas, the day was packed with snorkeling activities and watching underwater life unfold before our eyes. It was so hot that we wished for a bit of a breeze. But the next day, winds increased and kicked up choppy seas, and we bucked wildly and uncomfortably. The wind shift put us on the windward side of the shore, so the task of the day was to move to a safer anchorage.
Starry night, starry night, we listened to Neil Young and chatted in the cockpit. It was the perfect night breeze. The same night, rain squalls came every two hours. Kevin had to move from sleeping outside to the hottest bunk inside the cabin - with windows closed. The sound of chain grinding on the coral head below kept me awake at night and made my toe nails curl up.

Snorkeling in the south pass of Fakarava was the most memorable experience. Our friends saw no such corals like that in Hawaii. I heard of the corals in Rangiroa dying. Are all corals destined for the same ending? I sincerely hope not. We hung out with our cruising friends, Totem, Mulan, Oso Blanco, Capaz, and met some new families. One night we all gathered aboard Oso and had "Oso-Bio 102", a talk on biological diversity put together by Mike. The audience: age 6 to 60. We also had an inaugural ceremony for the Strawberry Monkey Yacht Club. Good friends, good laughs, and good memories.

One memorable experience was taking our friends to the airport in Fakarava. About 1.8nm to NW from the town, we tied our lines at the small dock, right in front of the airport, walked 50m to the airport and said good-bye to our friends. In a way, we envied them for being able to hop on a plane, and within hours, be in a place with unlimited showers and fruits. It will take us several days to reach Tahiti. Oh well, that's how it goes!

Feeding sharks off the back of the boat!

2010-06-04T00:05:00.000-07:00

June 3, 2010

Today I SCUBA dove the south pass entrance of Fakarava and stopped counting Gray Reef sharks when the count exceeded 200! The dive began by dropping down 30 meters to the reef shelf where it then drops off to 1000 meters. I swam over to the edge and looked over into the abyss. The only thing to be seen was a myriad of Gray Reef sharks swimming in the distance. We then let the current bring us into the channel only to confront the main school of Gray Reefs and White Tip Sharks and uncountable tropical fish.
Immediately upon exiting the water I met up with my latest spear-fishing pal (Jaime off s/v Totem) and buzzed out to a lagoon reef and speared two bumphead parrot fish and a banded grouper. The system is that one person dives down to take a shot and the other looks out for sharks. We did see two Gray Reef sharks but they kept their distance and we were cautious to not kill a fish when sharks are near.
Upon returning to IO, I filleted the parrot and hung the carcass on a string over the side. Darkness had fallen by then and the Black Tip sharks that circle the boat day and night were on the hunt. The carcass hit the water and the line began to pull through my fingers harder than I could hang on. Hyo grabbed my shorts to brace me and Al was trying to take a video clip. The shark grabbed the carcass and pulled with more force than I expected. Awesome! I can't wait until tomorrow.
m

Kevin and Tash are enjoying the South Pacific lifestyle of hourly swims, sleeping on deck under the stars and the incredible underwater world. The amount of marine life is astounding! Lots of pictures have been taken and memories have been made.
French is being spoken on a semi-regular basis, which is good because some of us could use some culture.
Kevin and Tash's Top Five Boat Observations
1. How can a bathroom that is so small be called a bathroom? (How does Hyo take a shower in there?)
2. Am I looking for a snack in the kitchen or playing Tetris?
3. We recommend bringing a CSA approved helmut on board because you will bump your head at least 10 times an hour!
4. Why did a company design a manual anchor winch that pulls the blasted thing up 3 inches at a time?
5. A label maker to mark all of the blink'in boat parts, we don't know a halyard from a bilge pump.
6. (yes, I know I said 5) Is that dingy really supposed to be a lifeboat? I've worn clogs that were bigger?
Still on the to-do list: drive scooters, eat more baguettes with Nutella, pineapples, and Tash wants to be the "shark whisperer".
Kevin

Shark City!

2010-06-03T00:30:00.000-07:00

May 30 2010
Position, 16 30.3S 145 27.3W

We are at the southern end of Fakarava and today we swam with over 50 sharks! Three species: gray, white tip and black tip sharks were everywhere.
We started off the day with a brisk sail south (beating to windward, of course), to the south end of the atoll, dropped the hook in 45 feet of crystal clear water near our friends on Mulan and Oso Blanco. Within one hour we were all surrounded by friendly reef sharks and a myriad of other tropical reef fish having the best snorkel of our lives!
As you can see from the pictures (thanks Mark), these atolls are basically a big ring of coral reef and occasionally there is a passage-way that is deep enough that you can enter with a boat. There is a trick though, in that you can only enter at certain times due to the very strong currents that flow through these passes. When the tide rises, the water outside the atoll rises and to equilibrate the water level, water must flow in. The reverse occurs during low tide and you get a strong outflow current happening. Depending on the size of the atoll, and since the channels are narrow (some are only 30 meters wide), the currents can exceed 4-6 knots. Given these conditions, entering them can be like entering a fast flowing river complete with standing waves, current eddies and whirlpools.
These passes are biologically relevant in that they also allow nutrient-rich water from the outside to flow into the relatively nutrient-poor lagoon. Like anywhere, where the food is, the life is in abundance.
Once we arrived and IO was safely anchored, we all piled on to Oso Blanco's tender, drove to the entrance of the channel, and jumped overboard in 50 feet of water. The water clarity allowed us to see the bottom and we were instantly surrounded by a rainbow of color and the very dramatic and abundant presence of the sleek chondrichthyes (sharks). Once in the water, we just sat back and let the 3 knot inward bound current push us (rather rapidly) into the atoll lagoon. It was like a brilliant movie being played out before our eyes, so you just sat back and let it all go by! Once we had been pushed sufficiently far inside the lagoon, our boat tender picked us up and took us back to the start and we jumped in and did it all over again. It was absolutely the most brilliant snorkel I have ever done!
After that fun, we returned to IO and I started playing with the local wildlife around the boat - heaps of surgeon fish and more black-tip reef sharks. I had heard a story from a local fisherman that the sharks here have been conditioned to the sound of a spear-gun firing. This fellow used to hunt for lagoon fish with speargun and said that once you have speared a fish, you basically have 45 seconds to get the fish out of the water before the sharks show up and take it away from you. So, due to the abundance of spear fishing done, the sharks have learned to associate the sound of a speargun with a free meal. Well, that sounds like an easily testable hypothesis, so I jumped in the water and when there were no sharks within view, and fired my speargun. Now, when a speargun is fired off underwater it makes a very distinct high-pitched metallic report that can be heard a long distance off (even by humans). Within 30 seconds of firing my gun, I had a 1.5 meter (5 foot) black-tip shark less than 5 meters from me! In about a minute and a half, there were 5 sharks and all of them were clearly demonstrating searching behavior, basically looking for that free meal. Fantastic! But admittedly, they were clearly being a little more aggressive so I chose to hastily exit the water.

P.S. Thanks Dennis for the speargun = good times.

Fakarava

2010-05-29T09:07:00.000-07:00

May 29, 2010

Position 16 03.7S 145 37.1W

Fakarava, Tuamotus
Try to say that fast without sounding like your swearing! We have been inside the Atoll Fakarava for 2 days now. Our last 2 days of sailing here were awful as the wind shifted to the south and we ended up close hauled beating hard on the wind again. But we are over that now. Its amazing how you can be out to sea for 5 days and have a rough terrible sail and curse to yourself up and down that you'll never do this again, and then one day inside these beautiful anchorages and the terrible passage seems to just fade away.
We have reprovisioned at the small village here and once again enjoyed the French influence and engorged ourselves on French baguettes. We have also picked up AL and Tash, our friends from Calgary who will be with us here in paradise for the next two weeks.
We are off to the southern end of the atoll as we have heard that the snorkeling is the best the Tuamotos has to offer.

Tuamotu Archipelago

2010-05-25T22:03:00.000-07:00

The Tuamotu Archipelago are a chain of atolls in French Polynesia and the largest chain of atolls in the world, spanning an area of the Pacific Ocean roughly the size of Western Europe. For those that don't know, atolls are cool ring islands of corral that encircle a lagoon... so ring islands.

image care of http://www.ventanasvoyage.com/images/coral%20atoll.jpg

The population of these atolls is a mere 15,000 who make a living off of black pearls and the preparation of copra, a coconut food product. Much of the tourism trade is in the cook islands and Tahiti, leaving this area more pristine. Having said that, the Tuamotu's contain the atoll Moruroa, site of 193 French nuclear bomb tests between 1966 and 1996.

All of the islands of the Tuamotus are coral "low islands": essentially high sand bars built upon coral reefs. Because of this there is sparce vegetation and drinking water is all from rain water. As can be expected, animal life is also sparce, consisting of birds, insects and lizards. Below water.... that's a different story and I suspect Mike and Hyo will eventually have many pictures to post of the diverse life below land.

image courtesy of http://www.tahiti.pictures-pacific.com/tuamotu/rangiroa-sauvage.jpgg

info and pictures from wikipedia/wikimedia

A calm uneventful sail.

2010-05-25T20:43:00.000-07:00

Position
Day 1 10 31S 141 19W
Day 2 11 53S 142 14W
Day 3 12 54S 143 12W
We have had a slow go of it but it had been calm and hot. Not much to complain about really, nice sailing and uneventful and boring is a good thing out here.
Later: The wind has picked up a bit and things are lumpy and hot with all the windows closed again. Feels like we have been here before!
192 miles left to go.
m

The old familiar roll.

2010-05-23T19:33:00.000-07:00

Day 1
Position 10 31S 141 18W, DMG 116 NM.

We are back at sea and have settled into the familiar routine, although this time the wind and current are favorable and so far the sailing is very pleasant. I spent a big chunk of my 5-hour shift last night out in the cockpit learning the new southern stars and constellations. I have been using a program called "Stellarium"; fantastic, especially when you can take the computer outside (it being dry with little threat of spray) and star gaze in the black southern sky until your heart's content.

Day 0

2010-05-22T14:04:00.000-07:00

Current Position: 09 18S 140 22W, Heading: 210 Degrees true, Speed: 5.5 knots.
After several heartfelt goodbyes we have departed the Marquesas and are underway to the next island group.

Nuku Hiva has left its mark

2010-05-21T08:25:00.000-07:00

May 21 2010

We have enjoyed this place thoroughly. We have met local peoples and sailors from many nations, tasted of the local cuisine and eaten much tropical fruit. (Hyo-I listened to the most amazing singing by the locals at church.) What an amazing place. However, it is sadly time to leave. Today we will fill our water tanks and load as much fruit as we can carry. Tomorrow we leave for the tropical ring atolls of the Tuamotos.

Marquesas Islands. A brief intro

2010-05-09T12:37:00.000-07:00

The Marquesas Islands group is one of the most remote in the world, lying about 1,371 km (852 miles) northeast of Tahiti and about 4800 km (3000 miles) away from the west coast of Mexico. The Marquesas are among the largest island groups of French Polynesia, Nuku Hiva being the second largest island in the entire territory, after Tahiti. The Marquesas are remarkably dry islands and has a population around 8,632.

The first recorded settlers of the Marquesas were Polynesians, likely arriving from the region of Tonga and Samoa.

The islands were originally named "Te Henua Enata" (Land of Men) by the native Polynesian people. First discovered by the Spanish in 1595, they were later made famous by Captain James Cook. The Marquesas includes 12 islands (2 are small rock islands), and of that total, only 6 are inhabited. These islands were in-the-news when Nuku Hiva served as the site of the popular TV show, Survivor.

For additional info about French Polynesia, and their most interesting history, go here.

Here are a few pictures of the area.

(information from wikipedia)

Snorkeling with Giant Mantas

2010-05-08T08:12:00.000-07:00

May 8 2010
Position 08 49.39S 140 03.90W

So much has happened in the last few days that it's all hard to describe. One thing is for sure, the passage seems like a long distant memory. We are currently in the picturesque tropical paradise, calm aqua marine lagoon, surrounded with white sand beaches. We are anchored 100 meters off a small coral reef that is teaming with tropical fish, sea turtles and spotted eagle rays abound. To make it even better, we are anchored with 4 boats that we met in La Cruz, including Mulan, Oso blanco, Totem and Capaz. Yesterday, we got all the dingys out searching the bay for a school of giant manta rays that come in to feed on the abundant plankton. Once found, every Man woman and child jumped in the 28 degree water and swam within an arms length of these 2-3 meter wide gentle giants. Above is the picture of Jamie on Totem diving down to the manta ray.
We have also gone out big game fishing on Oso Blancos tender were we pulled in a Dorado and a mackerel tuna and today we are taking Oso Blanco (which is a large, 2.5 million dollar motor boat) out to an offshore seamount to fish for an even bigger prize.
Last week we attended a goat pit roast on the beach after hiking to an amazing waterfall where we were swimming in freshwater with meter long eels. I have been eating the French baguettes as fast as I can get my hands on them and even the eels seemed to like them as were feeding them baguettes by hand.
It just seems ridiculous how much fun we are having.

We also had some very slow internet access last week and were able to check the blog and read all the comments you have been posting. Thanks so much everyone, we really enjoyed reading them and sharing this experience with you as best we can. We have been taking lots of pictures and will post them when possible.

Syzygy will make landfall today and I'm sure Matt and Karen will be in contact with their parents ASAP. We also put out a call to Escapade but have not heard if they have made landfall yet. If they have not it should be soon.

Rest

2010-05-05T19:42:00.000-07:00

May 5 2010.
Position: 08 49.5S 140 14.9W
I have felt a bit guilty about not writing but we have been fully enjoying our time on this amazing island. I ate 9 mangos today alone. The passion fruit, bread fruit, plantains are just brilliant and the pamplemouse is by far the most fantastic fruit that we have encountered. We currently have 2 nets full of them and are always looking for more. Also the crepes with Nutella are brilliant. Picture large Polynesian men covered in tattoos wearing wild-bore tusk necklaces talking on a cell phone and eating a fresh French baguette. Its quite a contrast between new-world old-world! There are heaps of sharks patrolling the bays and I have seen black tip reef sharks in the surf in less than 2 feet of water and a 6-7 foot grey reef shark swam around the boat this morning. The sharks are harmless and have not prevented any snorkeling or spear fishing. We have met so many people from many nationalities and the locals have been so generous.
So to sum it up, all is well and we are loving it. As we have said many times now, 1 day ashore here melted away all 28 days of the long passage and we are not in any real hurry to leave. Our current plan is to hang out here for another week before heading out to the Tuamotos.

P.S. I spoke to Matt aboard Syzygy today and all is well, they are doing fine. They are about 3-4 days from Nuku Hiva.

I see it, the Land of Beyond

2010-04-27T17:21:00.000-07:00

I see it, the Land of Beyond

I was told of a place called the Land Of Beyond
A dream that lay beyond the gates of the day,
Of pastures it would seem, so lush and so green,
But ever so far away.
Half whispered its told, of a place where the bold
May dream to see, to touch and to breathe
But far this land lies, beyond the skirts of the skies
And farther than our known stars unfold.
Thus we set out, with never a doubt,
With a hope and a sail, the milky-way for a trail
Having left the land we are of so fond,
In search of this Land Of Beyond

28 days have been our toil, driven along under air foil
A lunar cycle we have been under sail
Led on, by a fairness never to fail.
In equatorial heat we have stewed,
Here, at sea where the silence is brood,
Searching these endless waves so long,
We've now skirted the skies and beyond.
In the vast desert of brine, we have surely put in our time,
Day in day out, but never a doubt,
Over crest of wave and trough, under heaven stars spawn,
Yearning for land to rise with the dawn.

We have been true to this trail, by wind, by wave and by sail,
We've earned this pride in our soul, that still mocks at our goal,
3000 miles we've come, our wake cannot be undone.
Out of this vast blue, it rises, could it be true?
I dare not to whisper, to speak its name I fear,
This mirage, before my eyes will disappear.

Nuku Hiva rises so tall, teaming with fresh water a fall,
Afar and agleam, many a valley a green,
More green it would seem, than one could dream,
And under sky blue, paradise thru and thru.
And what a vision to seek, a high, green beckoning peak
With a quiet and sheltered bay, where IO may peacefully lay
And rest for us without worry, having attained our sought after quarry.

But,

So quietly on the wind did you hear, like a whisper on the breeze so near
Just beyond, at the brink of the dawn,
Is a place where beauty is beset with golden hue
Where coconut trees rise and loom, over aqua marine lagoon
Another place, yet not so far and is yet so new!
Alluring it lies, at the skirts of the skies,
So soon we'll be seeking like ever before,
Whether it be on this, or a far distant shore,
We have not yet found our match, still in our soul that itch to scratch,
That yearning like ever before.
And try how we will; it may be unattainable still,
With the sun, who rises at dawn, holding us ever true to our bond,
Who reveals to us, that search we must
For there is always always the next Land of Beyond.

Day 28 Land!

2010-04-25T18:08:00.000-07:00

Position 08 55S 139 56 W, DMG 129 nm
We are 5 miles of the island of Nuku Hiva, Marquesas.
We are 12 miles from Taiohae bay were we will anchor for the night and clear customs tomorrow.
Tonight we sleep at anchor!

Syzygy position report.

2010-04-24T19:36:00.001-07:00

As of 0200 UTC on April 25 Syzygys position sis as follows:
09 37 N 129 26W
We have spoken with Matt and Karen every day and all is well. They have started to sail South towards the ITCZ despite being a little early, but the conditions seem right. They say hi to the parents.
We also passed the message to Escapade from Brenda. I hope they received it and that all is well. I guess we will find out in a few days when they arrive at the islands.

Day 26-7

2010-04-24T19:36:00.000-07:00

Day 26
Position 05 46S 137 01 W, DMG 116nm.
So close yet so far, drive IO Drive.
We are out the favorable west setting current but the sails are still full and pulling hard.
My mind waits to fill my senses with the smell, the sight, the feel of land.

Day 27
Position 07 25 S 138 22 W, DMG 127 nm.
Yesterday the thought of approaching landfall was exciting, today it just still seems so far. I have read and heard of accounts of sailors doing this passage where they are eager to get there for the first couple of weeks, then in the middle of the trip, they get into the rhythm of the passage and near the end they sometimes feel they don't want it to end. I have even heard of sailors slowing the boat down just to prolong the experience. I tell you that I'm going to be traveling at hull speed towards Taiohae beach when we drop the anchor! There is now way we are slowing down for anything! 130 NM to go.
At the current speed, we should make landfall tomorrow evening. Unfortunately it is considered bad seamanship and just plain dangerous to approach land in the dark, but the bay that we are going to is pretty strait forward with minimal hazards, so we just might attempt it.

Moitessier & Moi

2010-04-23T22:32:00.000-07:00

Moitessier & Moi
This last week has been one of the most difficult times of my life. That sounds rather dramatic when really, I feel like I am not doing anything all day. Almost three weeks into this passage, I just could not deal with the fact that we had another week to go, perhaps longer. Beating into the wind for almost a week now, the intense heat and humidity paralyzed me. The constant heeling, pounding, jerking, bucking, and lurching motions made me think, 'this is simply inhabitable'. I would dread having to go on deck and getting tossed around and sprayed in salt water. I have managed to cook, clean, and function so far on most passages, but after spending almost an hour just on doing some dishes, I was ready to lose it. I braced myself with my four limbs, stomach, knees, elbows, and whichever else body part allowed to keep myself stable while making sure no knifes or forks makes a sudden move to turn into weapons. When something would go wrong, like a spill in the galley, after I'd exhausted my sigh of deaths, I'd break into tears. If you had me next to my three-year-old niece, I would not have looked any different than when she throws a temper tantrum. It's actually worse than that because mine is like the pathetic whimper, the kind that makes you think, gees, you really don't need to be crying. I'm actually quite disappointed with myself at how whiny I can be. Anyway, to make my point, I was hating life.

Yesterday, I picked up one of Moitessier's books. I don't know why... perhaps for inspiration. His writing is beautiful and his life legendary (well, maybe except for the fact that he ditched his wife and kids). He writes, "I've always had the feeling that for me, long passages deeply cleanse me of all the grime accumulated during a stay ashore. Once the coast disappears astern, a man alone before his creator can't remain apart from the natural forces around him. His body and mind, freed from earthly bondage and attachments, can find their essence and purity in the heart of those elements in nature that the ancients made into gods. Wind, Sun, and Sea, the sailor's divine Trinity." This is a man who uses expressions such as "making love to the lagoon that has seduced me" and "being at one with my boat". Without a boat, he feels "like a hermit crab without a shell". In my moments of despair and pathetic whimpers, the contrast seemed black and white clear to me. Let's face it, I'm no sailor. I'm not Moitessier and I'm no Lin Pardey, either. I'm just barely hanging on here. But it was also so refreshing to hear of pure joy, strong attraction, and passion. The last time I felt that kind of pure bliss was my climbing days - my early climbing days in Korea. So it must be that sailing is the medium through which Moitessier loved life. And for me, it was climbing.

With that difference put aside, Moitessier had something else to teach me. When talking about coping with hardships, he said, "I try never to look too far ahead. I heave to emotionally. It's a trick I learned from reading Monfreid. When everything is going wrong, you stop thinking, you just act on instinct, you just do what has to be done every day. And little by little, things become clear."

It is true that I tend to look ahead too far and overanalyze. Yeah, yeah, I've heard it all, live in the present moment and keep it simple. Maybe I had to reach rock bottom to come back up or maybe I was looking forward to the upcoming landfall, it does not matter. I tuned into a different frequency in my head and that's all it took. So what if it takes eleven more days to get there? Just do what has to be done every day. So today, I did.

I kept it simple. Monitor weather. Trim the sails and/or change as needed. Ah, stop bitching now. I hand-pumped the manual watermaker so that we can have freshwater to clean ourselves. I made an effort to eat something decent. After a while, the desire to live and feel alive kept growing and I felt more motivated. Just do what has to be done every day. That is how I coped.
Hyo-jung

Day 25

2010-04-22T19:38:00.000-07:00

Position 04 07 S 136 01W. DMG 148 NM
Day 25, DAY 25! REALLY?
Still hard on the wind beating to weather but the wind has backed about 20 degrees so we can now shape a course to Nuku Hiva. Spray on deck with every other wave, beating to windward and pushing hard. We have been leaving the sails up far longer than they should be, driving IO hard. Salt is encrusting everything on deck, it dries between sprays in the searing noon day sun, then in the evening collects moisture to become a sticky greasy film on everything. We caught another Yellowfin tuna today; oddly it was on a hook that had no bait. I had been lazy about rebaiting the hook each morning since it has been so rough the past few days and was just dragging a bare hook. I guess that works too! Hyo cooked the tuna and made some ceviche all while the boat was bucking and lurching through and over each wave, heeled over 20 degrees. The fresh crispy onions, garlic and tangy lime juice was refreshing.
We have come 2497 nautical miles (4620 km) and the gps says we have about 360 nm to go. If only I had my spurs! Giddy up IO!

Day 23 -4

2010-04-21T19:17:00.000-07:00

Day 23
Position 01 03 S 132 28 W, DMG 123NM.
More wind but so hot and all the windows are closed because we are still beating to windward and much spray is covering the boat. Not very fun. Still unable to lay a direct course to the Marquesas due to this southerly wind.

Day 24
Position 02 23 S 134 22W, DMG 139 NM.
Today is the 7th day we have been beating to windward on what is supposed to be an easy downwind run! After a long night of beating and pounding the boat into the waves, we made some good mileage. Still unable to make direct course for Marquesas landfall. This southerly wind is not letting us do what we need to. I hate the weather man, the weather files say the wind is doing what we need but in reality the wind is over 40 degrees off. I have sworn allot today. I realize that being angry at the weather is the most useless waste of energy but still, can't help but being mad at it. All the pounding into the wind has caused a few leaks to show up, saltwater dripping onto my bunk makes me very cranky! The port navigation light is broken and I broke the main halyard cam-cleat shaking out a reef. Salty, sticky, so cranky!
Later: The wind lightened up a bit so we could at least open a couple of windows, good for moral to cool down a bit, but not good for course direction.

Day 22

2010-04-20T08:52:00.002-07:00

Position N00 10 W130 50, DMG 96 NM
Getting close, fighting for southern miles. All is well.

A message to the parents of SV Syzygy.

2010-04-20T08:52:00.001-07:00

We have spoken to Sailing Vessel Syzygy almost every day via the HF Radio. Matt and Karen aboard wish to tell their parents that all is well and they are doing fine. They had a very slow windless start and therefore spend a few days floating just off the coast of Mexico going nowhere fast. But as of yesterday picked up a bit of wind and were well underway at position N15 22 W112 29 as of April 20 0200 UTC.
Please note that we can only send in updates but cannot read the comments posted on the blog (as we have no internet aboard). We heard that you were following our blog via Ceilydh who we can communicate with via the radio.

Welcome to the South Pacific!

2010-04-20T08:52:00.000-07:00

At 0406 UTC we crossed the equator at W130 55. As it happened we were directly in the middle of a squall and so were traveling in excess of 7 knots including the favorable westerly current we have now entered. We opened a bottle of Martinellies sparkling apple juice and offered our sacrifices to IO and King Poseidon to ensure safe passage and asked to be welcomed into the Southern Pacific. We also opened our equator crossing gift from Ceilydh and received our very official crossing documents granting us safe passage through the South Seas. We also enjoyed the chocolates very much, so thank you Evan, Diane and Maia.

day 20 & 21

2010-04-19T09:26:00.000-07:00

Day 20 (02 21 N / 128 38 W)
If Moitessier managed to do yoga every day on his voyage, he is truly my hero. My yoga mat is currently used as an anti-skid mat in the v-berth for the produce baskets.
Hyo-jung

Day 21 (01 29 N / 129 55 W)
Day in and day out, it is quite exhausting fighting against the same conditions - SSW winds and equatorial countercurrent that is pushing us North. We're still making 80-90 nm per day, but why does it seem so hard to push through to get south of the equator? We both had our share bitching at the conditions, but really, what can you do? You can only do your best and let it be. This is a true test of patience. I'm learning to be thankful for the fact that we are safe and making progress even if it's slow.
Three weeks since our departure. We finished our last apple today and the last grapefruit a couple of days ago. Next up, canned fruits. We also calculated that we have 10 days of fresh water left and still over 900 miles to go. We have got to get out of this foul current!
We watched movies today just to numb ourselves. It was a good distraction though. It's a bizarre experience to come out to the cockpit, in the middle of the movie, to do a 360 scan. Holy cow, we are in the middle of NOWHERE and watching a movie.... Our main power inverter blew up and filled the cabin with smoke. We now only have limited means to charge the computer (main navigation)and camera batteries. So we will have to sort something out about that once we reach civilization again.
I realized the other day that I have never been to the Southern Hemisphere. What a cool way to arrive! .... or is it? We hear from other boats that the SE trade winds and south equatorial currents are helping them blaze towards the home stretch. Hope is a good thing. We are really ready to be there.
Hyo-jung

Spoke too soon.

2010-04-17T08:34:00.000-07:00

A tropical depression has developed directly north of us in an area we thankfully passed 2 days ago but it has caused havoc with the winds in our area. The wind has veered to the Soutwest and increased which is exactly in the direction we need to go. The resulting change in wind has kicked up a very confused sea creating waves that seem to come from every direction with no rhythm making the sailing very frustrating. Currently we can only sail in either a Northwest or Southeast direction, both of which we lose ground. Brutal. We are both very tired.
Later.
The wind has calmed down and steadied although it is still from the South-Southwest and is not very favorable. At least we can sail in calmer seas and are not losing ground. We also both had a good night sleep. We are working so hard to get to the equator. It seems that once we get there we will be in the clear.
m

Day 19

2010-04-17T08:09:00.000-07:00

Position 02 56N 127 30W, DMG 83NM
We have gotten into the southeast trade winds and are blazing along at top speed. Unfortunately there is an awful lot of SOUTH in the Southeast trade winds and so in order for us to get south past the equator we have to beat to windward. That is, we are sailing in a direction that is almost up-wind and while this is possible, it is very rough and uncomfortable. The boat is leaning (heeled) over to one side and waves are constantly crashing into and over the boat causing it to be wet and bumpy. I have also given up trying to collect rain water, it just too rough and the rain is not consistent.
Inside the boat is not a pretty sight either. Well, it's not so much disorganized as it is well, I'll just say it, smelly! We are on a 30 foot boat and the forward 8 feet of V-birth does not even get used except to hold what's left of the vegetables and all the dirty laundry, and so surprise surprise, is smells like humid vegetables and dirty laundry! The head (bathroom) is what it is, and of course has a smell all its own! Each of our bunks has been used constantly for almost three weeks now and while we have changed the sheets/towels we sleep on a couple of times, there is no doubt about it, they have their own funk! We strive to keep the kitchen clean so it for the most part is smell free, but it does have one major drawback, the salt water tap. We have a salt water tap to use for washing up etc. to conserve the limited fresh water. However, if one does not use the salt water tap for a day or so, the bacteria in the salt water die off and become anaerobic/anoxic. So when you need some salt water and it has been a while, the first couple of pumps fill the sink with rotten egg stench water that we have affectionately termed the 'fart water'. Then there is the engine, which is about two feet from the sink. When we had to motor for 19 hours two days ago, we had to keep all the air vents open to assist with keeping the engine cool here in the tropical water. Hot diesel engine smell, inside a hot, humid and otherwise scent filled boat, let me tell you: what a treat! Of course one could always go outside to get some fresh air; there is plenty of that out here in the middle of nowhere. But if it first thing in the morning, you'll find that the deck is covered in flying fish, which of all the fish I have encountered, are the smelliest fish ever. They have such a strong fish smell that you can detect if a fish is on deck in the dark while it's pouring rain. Of course when you go pick it up and toss it over board your fingers stink until you can wash them, with perhaps the fart water!

Day 18

2010-04-16T15:59:00.000-07:00

Position 03 53N 126 31W, DMG 58 NM

The winds have been fluky and light, and have come from every direction possible. This is due to the many rain and wind squalls that we have encountered. Today we have done so many sail changes in the strong wind, blazing sun shine and pouring rain that we have lost count. For convenience sake we have just gotten into the routine of not wear clothing anymore. Unfortunately however, I was outside in the sun so often yesterday that I managed to sunburn my ass! Let me tell you that this is in no way convenient, and other than the obvious reasons, here is why; in order to stay in bed during all the rocking motions, we have what are called lee cloths, which basically turns the seat into a cradle so you can't fall out. Now even with these lee cloths in place, in order to fall asleep, you still need to wedge yourself into a corner of the bunk using pillows and blankets to keep you from rolling about. Of course it is also so hot, humid and muggy that you cannot have anything covering you while you sleep or you will sweat to death. The lee cloths are made out of sturdy nylon and webbing with steel grommets every so often making them strong but a bit scratchy to touch with bare skin. Last night, every time IO would come down off a big wave, or lurch one way or another, my naked sunburned butt would chafe on the lee cloth and painfully wake me up! So lame! We are starting to get tired and certainly have begun to question: Why are we doing this again?

Day 17

2010-04-15T06:29:00.000-07:00

Position 04 40 N 126 04 W. DMG 83 nM

Don't touch me!
Becalmed. The ocean is like a mirror and we are so hot, so sticky. We accidentally sat to close together and our skin touches, or rather melds together in a hot sweaty saline union. Gross. This is not a heated passion, it's simple repulsion. Any stray breeze, the slightest puff of air across your skin is a moment of bliss, cooling relief, just for a second, then back to muggy, stuffy, relentless heat.
We need rain. We need water. So many squalls around us and somehow we keep missing them. Just one good deluge would cool our bodies, fill our tanks and bring relief even for a few minutes.

Our supplies have lasted well but are getting thin. Don't get me wrong, we have lots of food, in cans! But we are down to the last 3 grapefruits, two apples and a bag of onions. We also have 4 jicamas left as well (Mexican turnip) and one dumpy old cabbage that I would not want to eat even when it was fresh, almost 3 weeks ago. Other than this we are fine, Hyo baked bread and we have month's worth of other stores as well, but soon there will be no fresh stuff and that will be missed. We also have about half of our drinking water left, so we are not desperate, but having ample water would be comforting. We are also out of shower water, and in this heat, trust me I could really a shower!

Day 16

2010-04-14T21:08:00.000-07:00

Position 06 03 N 125 55 W. DMG 88 nM
A good start, but now there is no wind. The sails are back to slatting themselves and my mind into utter destruction.

Day 15

2010-04-12T19:51:00.001-07:00

Position 07 29 N 125 30 W. DMG 96 nM
These past two days have been really pleasant. The wind has been good albeit a little light, the weather hot, and the wild life entertaining. In short, this is what I had imagined trade wind sailing to be like. Unfortunately and ironically we are almost out of the real trade winds. I also have to say that these past few days I have gotten into the daily groove. Although this probably more said now that the weather is not sucking and I'm actually enjoying myself. Hyo also got out the paper chart covering this part of the ocean and plotted our daily positions for the past two weeks detailing our slow but steady progress. Admittedly, it did leave us with a sense of accomplishment.

Note: unfortunately we cannot see our blog and therefore cannot reply to any comments that you may be leaving until we have internet again wherever that may be (we email these posts in over a special long-range radio, unfortunately we cannot access the internet directly while at sea). Regardless, a big hello to everyone, we would enjoy hearing from you. Also, I have been led to believe that there are two school groups following our journey, so a big hello to Mr. Iwaasa's and Mrs. Luthers class. We would also enjoy hearing from you.

Day 14, two weeks at sea and we are approaching the crux.

2010-04-12T19:51:00.000-07:00

Position 08 49 N 124 37 W. DMG = 104 miles/24 hours

Four yellow tuna swimming by my keel,
One bit my hook, and what a delicious meal.
Three yellow tuna swimming by my keel,
One bit my flying fish, and spun out my reel.
Two yellow tuna swimming by my keel,
With a squid off the deck, I'll get you for real.
True story and to be continued!

We have had 4 yellowfin tuna following us for a couple of days now. I caught the first one yesterday and we ate it. Then all day yesterday the remaining three taunted and tempted me by swimming so close but not taking any hooks that I offered. They were swimming so close to the boat that I finally got the spear gun out. But after several hours of just waiting for the perfect shot alas I gave up. The tricky buggers would stay just out of range. This morning I used one of the many flying fish that we find on deck each morning as bait and as soon as my hook hit the water a big tuna hit. The reel began to spin out as fast as it could but unfortunately the drag device on the reel malfunctioned and the fish spun out my entire 80 lbs test line before I could get a glove on to stop it. I guess I'll have to wait until tomorrow morning before I'll have more flying fish. We did find a squid on top of the sun awning (how they get there is still beyond me) so this evening I'll try my luck again. Yesterday we also got a big strike and had a fish break the 80 lbs test like it was nothing, big fish!. As I write this, I can look over and see a 40-50 lbs tuna, swimming in the crystal clear water about 4 meters from me. Just swimming, darting, mocking!

Later:
Yesterday I watched the clouds for hours upon hours. Our motion has become more regular and the wind consistent. Since leaving La Cruz, Mexico, we have now sailed over 2700 km. We have not run our engine for two weeks now. As Hyo mentioned, we are nearing the Intertropical Convergence Zone. If you look at a map of the Pacific Ocean, the wind north of the equator circles in a big clockwise direction producing the Northeast trade winds, and South of the equator the reverse is true. The catch is that in the middle there is an area of low pressure called the equatorial trough or ITCZ or more frequently, the doldrums. In this area, the weather is hot, humid and the wind is non-existent except during the frequent local squalls that can produce strong but short-lived winds, lightning and very heavy rain. These local thunder heads (Cumulus nimbus cloud formations) march across the vast horizon in a daily procession to produce an amazing array of atmospheric wonders. Yesterday we watched as several squalls rolled by us or over us, either blessing us with wind and a touch of rain or leaving us in a windless void. Out here with the horizon so vast, one can see several local squalls at any given time. The entire succession of cloud formation, thunderhead building, rain, and final dissemination can be observed repeatedly. Particularly spectacular is when the light hits the rain from a distance and produces rainbows under the squalls. Yesterday at I witnessed three independent rainbow illuminated cells wander across the sky, all missing us by several miles.
The ITCZ is currently about 500 miles wide and considering that we only have enough fuel to motor about 250, by necessity, we must use these fluky winds to get us through.

day 12 & 13

2010-04-11T08:56:00.000-07:00

Day 12 (10 53 N / 121 32W)
Donna, I am taking your advice and working on a longer (6 hours) shift schedule. It can't hurt to try. Armed with coffee, I did some writing in my journal, emails, and now more writing. In this small space, it's hard to be quiet for the other person sleeping. Tonight, I think I'll skip the Coffee Break French podcast. Every 20-30 minutes, I go outside for a while to check for ships or other traffic. No stars tonight... it's pitch black, I feel so naked.... wait, I AM naked.
Hyo-jung

Day 13 (10 11 N / 123 32 W)
Today, three significant events occurred: 1) Rain, 2) Changed tacks and heading, and 3) Fish on!
Gradually during the last week, we could feel the increase in humidity in the air. Even with overcast skies, it feels hot after minimal activity (i.e., sail changes). The bunks are starting to feel damp. With the salt water sprays, handling lines or touching anything results in the subtle yet unpleasant stickiness. Yesterday, we had a bit of a mist, only enough for a tease. Today, we had some dark heavy clouds come by, drop some of its kindness, but leave too soon. This was definitely NOT the tropical squalls - as Steffi on S. V. Goldenlion described, "a drive-through boat wash". But we had enough to wash the sails and deck space of its saltiness and collect a bucketful of water. The rain was so welcomed by us as it cooled us down. What a difference!
Late afternoon, we gybed the sails for the first time since our departure and headed slightly more south. This means that the boat heels over to the opposite side than what we had in the last 13 days. Still the uncomfortable motions, but just different, you know, to break the monotony. What it really means is that, while sitting on the toilet, I'll lurch backwards instead of forward. You decide which is better because I don't have a choice. Just kidding... What is really significant is that, it feels good to make our next move and to know we are making progress.
We have not been keen on fishing since our fridge died and we can't keep a huge fish. But today, we caught a small yellowfin tuna, just big enough to feed both of us for one meal. On this tack, unfortunately, it is harder to work in the galley. Mike and I both stood, each pinning down a plate and a dipping bowl for soy sauce and enjoyed the sashimi. Okay, I feel more lucid today.
Hyo-jung

fuzzy-brained

2010-04-09T18:38:00.000-07:00

Day 10 (12 36 N 117 57 W)
Day 11 (11 46 N 119 44 W)
The last several days and nights have been a blur. Not much change in the sea conditions: variable winds 15-20 knots from NNE and confused seas 2 meters. The "variable" part seemed to happen always at night time. Sleep deprivation sucks. During the last five or six days, I think I recall periods of lucidity totals about 3 or 4 hours per 24 hour period. Those are the precious hours that I am able to write, read a book (without falling asleep), or decide to do cook something while engaging in some acrobatics in the galley.
I wish I was not so fuzzy-brained, so I can experience this with a bit more clarity. You see, every time I go outside to look around 360 degrees, I still think to myself, are we really here? Wow! This is so amazing. The evening of our departure from La Cruz was memorable. "This is it!" My heart filled something very hard to describe and I hope I will never forget that feeling. There was a time when we thought this passage was not going to happen. Now Io seems so happy. She was built skookum for this very purpose! She seems to be taking a lot of abuse, but holding up well.
I think we are both getting a little more rest today. Or the excessive fatigue just dulled the associated fear. Or I know I have no choice but to trust our boat's strength. Simple surrender. Winds have shifted to come from the north. Despite the sloshing and occasional tossing, we seem to be moving better. We are logging 1136nm, almost half way to the Marquesas!
As I had done at first, some might wonder, how can you be at sea for a full month? I am learning that, just like other things in life, it gets broken down to smaller parts, smaller projects, and smaller goals. A 3,000nm passage gets broken down into: 1) how to get into and make use of the NE trade winds from North America to a predictable area to enter the intertropical convergence zone (ITCZ), 2) with good weather report and luck, how to get through the ITCZ and cross the equator, and 3) how to use the SE trade winds to get to your destination. Land ho! With this in mind, we are working on (1) right now. One small goal at a time, even if it takes weeks!

hyo-jung

Nine Days of Travel

2010-04-07T11:54:00.001-07:00

Here is a quick map to show the progress so far.

Day 9

2010-04-07T10:51:00.000-07:00

Position, 13 37N 115 41W, 105 miles made good.
This past few days have been rough. The trade winds have not been like I had read or been told by others. I'm not sure if it's just us or this season or what but we are not alone. We have talked to a few other boats in our area over the HF radio (we have seen no-one for days now) and confirmed that they are experiencing rough gross conditions as well. This is not fun and we are so far away from land. It's not the wind so much as the rough seas. They come from everywhere with no real pattern to them. They are not dangerous or breaking yet so there is no real danger from them, it's just very uncomfortable. The days have been tolerable but the nights have been near sleepless. We have not been in this nasty of seas since we left the Haida Gwaii (Queen Charlotte) islands. Lame!
We had a Red Footed Boobie on deck last night. We welcomed the company and were glad to share our little island with it. That is, until this morning when we found it had shit EVERYWHERE! How could so much shit come out of one bird? There must have been 3.5 liters of slimy-milky-shit strewn across the foredeck. Until then it was fun to watch, so graceful in the air and so awkward on deck. It was using its wings and beak to plod and crawl around the pitching deck, flopping sorta like a fish out of water. And speaking of fish, the deck was covered with flying fish this morning. So naturally, we just started feeding the fishes to the bird, which gobbled them up without pause. After it had downed about 3-4 small-medium fish in its wobbly uncoordinated on-deck fashion, I tossed it a big one. It of course snatched it up immediately, but for whatever reason (either the fish was just too big or it was already stuffed) the bird had a real hard time getting this last fish down and so it sat there on deck with its neck all distended and sort of gagged in an controlled fashion. Then, in a series of lurches, it lobbed its self overboard into the water. We were traveling at 5 knots, so there was certainly no grace involved when it crash skidded and spun to a halt in the breaking waves. I briefly saw it hack up the fish and then re-consume it, presumable having rearranged its gut contents to a more accommodating configuration.
Hyo and I then spent 20 minutes on the pitching deck scrubbing away the feces. Now that I think about it, this sailing trip has brought me within exceedingly close proximity to many forms of shit. Bird shit, whale shit, dolphin shit, fish shit and gallons of human shit. That's just not right! And one last question: why do I have dirt under my fingernails every morning? I am nowhere near dirt! I have not even seen dirt in 10 days! The closest dirt is over 1500 km away! What's with the dirt?

A night and day difference.

2010-04-06T13:07:00.000-07:00

Day 8 position N 14 17 W115 41, Daily mileage =93 nm.

It is just over one week since our departure from La Cruz. Progress may be slow, but our experience very rich. I'm struggling with the night and day differences, both literally and metaphorically speaking.
I am puzzled as to why, with good winds on the quarter and satisfactory boat speed of 5 knots, we are still getting tossed around. We have entered some funky zone where we have good winds, Northerly at 10 knots, but swells coming in from the NW hit us on the beam. Swells are fine if they come at long intervals. But these are more like short confused waves that slap us from different angles. The result: slatting sails, crashing and banging of the boom, and very uncomfortable motions. As S.V. Syzygy put it, it's like being in a fun house with all the unpredictable movements, except that I am not laughing. Inside the cabin, there's only so much one can take of the various banging noises. I talked to a friend on the Pacific Puddlejumpers Net this morning about our state and he said, "I'm glad to hear that we're not the only ones experiencing the lousy sloppy seas! Misery loves company."
During the day, it's simply a lot of work. On the first day, Mike made some adjustments and the motion was immediately better. I even thought, 'you cannot change what comes your way, but you can change your reaction to it... how profound!' Several hours later, when our ass end was lifted up and dropped down sideways again, the Hallmark card moment went out the window.
At night, it's a lot of work and I'm scared shitless. The sloppy conditions seem to be worse and waves turns into Gremlins, those nasty buggers. We know the importance of rest, so we do our best to keep our shifts and carry on at night. Generally, I do not have much trouble with sleep. On our previous passages, five days being the longest in duration, I've managed to have fitful precious rests. But currently, even with the lee cloths on the bunks, I am not snug as a bug in a rug. I cringe at every loud bang and have a knot in my left shoulder. My whole body is still tense while sleeping. At this rate, a circumnavigation should result in a six pack in my stomach... along with no hair from all the stress. Yes, I think it is the mental strain that is worse. Under stress and mental fatigue, everything seems to be magnified and the catastrophic thinking mode kicks in: 'Oh gees, the crashing and banging is just too much! Is the chainplate going to rip out? The repetitive strain can't be good for the rigging!' Just when I think I've dozed off, I wake up, startled, "Is Mike still here? He'd better be wearing his harness", and lay down again.
Night after night, this kind of mental and physical fatigue seems to accumulate and spills over to the day time as well. I try to recover during the day, but still wake up panicked, "Is Mike still here?" Feeling like a zombie most of the day is not fun. I feel like I'm on a month-long night shift schedule. Then again, after about the second crappy night, during the day, we witness a very large pod of dolphins swimming by our boat, at times fully jumping out of the water. Their twists and turns and powerful movements happened three feet below us and their energy was amazing. It was truly an awe-inspiring moment. Despite the zombie-like state, that cheered us up.
We had started to get into somewhat of a routine, but the last three nights were terrible. It has to get better. Rest is not a luxury, it is essential, because we're in it for the long haul this time.
The good and bad moments seem to fluctuate in extremes, like night and day difference. Let's face it, we're not in a storm, we're not rounding Cape Horn. It's just a simple fact that we will have crappy nights like we are experiencing now and we will have magical nights. We will be relaxed and lazy or scared and strained. The sea will not choose when to be kind to us or give us a break because we are tired. I can't think of a more useless thing than being pissed off at the weather or the sea state. Yet we still do it. The highs and lows, my friends... what can I say? Perhaps Dickens can help me out here:
"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, ......"

Hyo

Slating hell or silky smooth?

2010-04-05T06:44:00.000-07:00

Day 7, April 4, 2010
Position N15 17.56 W113 25.11 distance/24 hours - 91 miles - not bad considering the wind we have or lack thereof!

Last night sucked and tonight is not shaping up to be that much better. The problem is not enough wind to keep the sails filled. When we roll up a wave the sails back and slat and bang. It's hard on the rigging, sails and our nerves. We did not get much sleep.
We are still dealing with these light winds and making slow progress, but we're in a bit more of a routine and rhythm now. Life has become very simple, the only goal being how do we make use of the given wind & sea condition to get to the next way point. Our fridge died on us, so the policy is to eat as much fresh produce as possible. Carrots are just not that yummy when they are all bendy!

We adjusted the sails today to a wing-on-wing position. That is, the main sail is out to one side and the head sail is held out to the other side using a pole. I don't typically like this position as it tends to roll the boat a bit more and it's hard for the self steering gear to sail straight downwind (~165 degrees). But as soon as we did this, the boat's motion was calm and peaceful as if each wave was made of satin. I could finally enjoy the day and even had a long nap. But the ocean is ever changing and now we are back to slating as a new choppy sea has build up. I have heard and read about the joys of trade-wind sailing, but so far, they have been too light and have not been what dreams are made of.
Later: The main sail is down and both Big Red and the working jib are poled out to starboard and port. No slating, no banging but a little more rolling. Stupid boats, always a compromise!

Day 6

2010-04-04T09:18:00.000-07:00

Day 6 April 3
Position: N15 57 W111 59
Log 105 miles. Light winds, going slow. All is well.

The fish that got away

2010-04-03T07:43:00.000-07:00

Day 5: April 2, 2010

As of 0200 utc we were at N16 57 W109 49 with a 24 hour run of 108 nM.
IO has had her sails up and been on the starboard tack for over 5 days now and it feels like she is just beginning to stretch her wings. We have been on the same heading of around 240 degrees true for 3 days now. When daylight gives way to darkness, the familiar sight of the constellation, Orion the Hunter has been positioned just so that his belt is sitting on the starboard spreader which is a pleasant daily reminder that we are still on course. We can now also see the Southern Cross, which along with all the other reminders (like the fact that I'm sitting out in the cockpit at 2 am with no shirt on or that is has been too hot to wear underwear for over 2 months now) means that we have sailed a long long way from where we started.
A rather uneventful day unfolded. The left over 3 meter swell and chop sent down by a northerly storm has smoothed out and the wind has become more consistent at 12-15 knots.
A couple of hours before dark I noticed a float bobbing along, then another. Looking around I saw we were passing a large fish boat to starboard, a tuna purse seiner to be exact. We kept our eyes peeled until we were satisfied that we had missed all of its nets and watched as the boat sank back into the horizon from which it came. Out of the corner of my eye I saw that we were trailing something from behind the boat. My first thought was that we had picked up a bit of kelp, net or rope on the rudder. When I leaned over the back rail I immediately realized that the object was not attached to the boat but in fact following us. The largest Yellowfin Tuna (Thunnus albacares) that I have ever seen was drafting in the wake of IO. Given its girth, which easily exceeds my own, this fish must be in the 200 lbs range. When I say drafting, I meant that its head was at times within 2 feet of the windvane rudder as it glided effortlessly along with IO. I quickly grabbed the camera, snapped a few shots from above, then leaned over the stern, submerged the camera and got some cool face to face video footage of this great fish swimming alongside us. It was awesome and really made my day.
For those of you who are wondering why I did not get my speargun out, for it would have been a point-blank shot, the interaction with this beast was to beautiful, to intimate for such an action. Besides, we have no capacity to deal with 200 lbs of fish.

Day 4

2010-04-01T19:51:00.001-07:00

N18 00.68 W109 02.57.
24 hour total 81 nM. We woke up this morning in mirror calm waters, by noon we picked up a breeze and sailed at 4-5 knots sliding through the flat seas. By evening we are hitting hull speed (and exceeding it ~ 7 knots) getting tossed around in 3.5 meter swell and 15 knots gusting 20. Overall we are just glad to have some wind and be on our way.

At sea with a nice pair of Boobies.

2010-04-01T19:51:00.000-07:00

April 1 2010 (mid-day)

I spy with my little eye, a nice pair of Boobies. Two Red Footed Boobies (Sula sula) have come to visit IO. After about 15 fly-bys the first landed on the front rail and has been happily perched there ever since. He was joined briefly by a fellow Boobie who, upon landing also on the bow rail, promptly began to squabble and chat with the first about who should have the right to that particular post. When interrupted by Hyo-jung wielding a camera, they both sorta wobbled off into flight with the original Boobie returning, again after about 10 flybys and 3 landing attempts. These birds, like the Isla Isabela Boobies, seem to have no fear of us and will easily let me approach within 2 feet. The odd characteristic of these birds is that they have both eyes positioned close to the front of their head (think Owl instead of Seagull) which is an adaptation to increase the stereo visual field which allows greater spatial acuity at close distances. That is, by having both eyes that look directly forward, they can focus on a prey item directly in front of them. Now I say this is odd, only because when you are sitting at the front of the boat having a conversation with one, it stops its feather preening, looks back at you directly with both eyes and sorta blinks at you as if it's waiting for you to say something profound. It's sorta eerie, in an "I'm 200 miles out to sea and talking to a bird" kinda way.
We have also been approached by no less than 4 different pods of dolphins in the past 36 hours. The most intimate of which was with a pod of about 30 Pantropical spotted dolphins (Stenella attenuate). The deep blue offshore waters, being low in particulate matter, are crystal clear and when these playful animals were bow riding IO, you could see them roll on their sides and look up at us. Our eyes met across a distance of 3-4 feet as they darted and turned with ease.
Another pod of three Spinner dolphins (Stenella longirostris, not sure on this ID) approached us. One of them was juvenile and was clearly interested in showing off its ability to tail slap. It repeatedly slapped the water and even managed to splash the deck before heading further off, still tail slapping all the way.
One last biological observation we have recently had baffles me profoundly and I will wait to hear back from a colleague before expanding further. Suffice it to say that it involves a species of insect that, to the best of my knowledge, has no business being way out here.

Fighting for every inch.

2010-04-01T07:45:00.000-07:00

Day 3, April 1. 2010
18 45N 107 47W, course made good in 24 hours: 22.7 miles.

We have been plagued by calms. Despite our productive first day out, we have been working for every meter we gain. Unfortunately this is typical of the first part of this passage and we are not alone. The coast of Mexico, South of the Baja typically has very little wind until you get out 2-300 miles out and reach the North-West trade winds. While we did leave during a local windy period, when that system died it unfortunately left us sitting in the middle of a no-wind hole. Of course our weather forecasts told us that we should have been in 5-7 knots of wind the whole time. We sat becalmed for almost 36 hours until yesterday afternoon when a 8-10 knot breeze picked up out of the NW and carried us a whopping 26 miles before it died in the middle of the night. Thankfully the last two nights have been full of sleep since we basically turned the anchor light on both just went below and slept. One of us would get up every hour or so and check for wind and ships. It has been so flat that it has made the anchorage in La Cruz look like a storm tossed sea! This morning we also have a nice 8-10 kt Northwesterly which is pulling us along on a completely flat sea. This has also confirmed our suspicion that we are destined to always sail up wind, even here on this typically downwind leg. Those trade winds better be in fine shape or I'm going to be disappointed.

Day 2+, Becalmed.

2010-03-31T00:53:00.000-07:00

N18 57.11 W107 25.68
My binoculars spied something afloat standing out against this vast barren image. I could make out algal growth along the margins and a scaly effect on the rounded surface. We are moving at 0.0kts. IO is just bobbing up and down on a gigantic mirror. As we roll up and down with the waves, the slating motion of the sails is like a giant bird flapping its wings and is just enough pressure to maintain steerage. Occasionally a slight zephyr gives a push, this stray breeze fills the Big Red with enough force to tighten the sheets if only for a second. I need to work hard in the noon day sun to inch and claw my way near the dead turtle, floating so high in the water. It's not on our path, but we are not really going anywhere so I'll take a look. 10 minutes, and trimming the sheets just so, 50 meters. 20 minutes of slating sails, 40 meters, I can see the scales. I could have swum over and back 20 times, but I am using almost no wind to move 17,000 pounds of sailboat. Hyo is below sleeping. A half hours goes by, we are almost within one boat hook distance. A large wave rolls by and the sails slat with a bang. The turtle woke up and swam away.

Hours pass, then 10, now 15. We have only added 30 miles to hour 24 hour gps reading and only 23 miles are in the direction made good. The sun beats down so fiercely. Our refrigerator unit has been working overtime and is acting up again. We are going to be eating salad a lot faster now until it's gone.

The good omen

2010-03-30T08:00:00.000-07:00

March 30, 2010
N19 13.13 W107 19.86

The offshore water is a brilliant blue. Light penetrates in deep long dancing shafts. The winds have been light but we have still made good time by flying Big Red, our drifter since we left La Cruz. 128 nm in 24 hours, not bad for our first day out, especially considering that we are not in the trade winds yet. This also marks the furthest distance away from land that we have been yet on this passage. The full moon accompanies me on my night shift and makes writing out in the cockpit a good way to pass the time. It's 2 am local time, but we have changed our watches to universal coordinated time (UTC) since this keeps us in tune with the weather updates and radio check-ins.

My father is a true outdoorsman and is happiest in life sitting on the back of a newly broke horse, heading off down an unknown goat path deep in the mountains. While off on these adventures, my father, in his cowboy bliss, will begin to recite one of the many poems from his repertoire. Of the many poems and limericks he has memorized, one is recited most often and reads thus:

The Land of Beyond

Have you ever heard of the Land of Beyond,
That dreams at the gates of the day?
Alluring it lies at the skirts of the skies,
And ever so far away;
Alluring it calls: Oh ye the yoke galls,
And ye of the trail overfond,
With saddle and pack, by paddle and track,
Let's go to the Land of Beyond!

Have you ever stood where the silence is brood,
And the vast horizons begin,
At the dawn of the day to behold faraway
The goal you would strive for and win?
Yet ah! In the night when you gain to the height,
With the vast pool of heaven star-spawned,
Afar and agleam, like a valley of dream,
Still mocks you a Land of Beyond.

Thank God! there is always a Land of Beyond
For us who are true to the trail,
A vision to seek, a beckoning peak;
A fairness that will never fail;
A pride in our soul that mocks at a goal,
A manhood that irks at a bond,
And try how we will, unattainable still,
Behold it, our Land of Beyond.

-Robert Service-

The day we left, while we were sitting in a small café/taco shop, I noticed the familiar title sitting in the book exchange. Re-reading the poem, I knew having this aboard would bring us luck. And my reply:

Well Dad, searching we are, for this Land of Beyond,
This dream you know, and are of so fond.
Farther than most, far far away from our coast,
We're skirting the Skies of Beyond.
By paddle and tack, but this time with no track,
With wind in our sail, and desire that knows no fail,
We are searching for this Land of Beyond

Yes Dad, Alluring it calls,
This time beyond mountains and falls.
Blessed be that moon, it is the day sun at noon
In this vast desert of brine, that is our yoke this time.
Yet still by same yearning we abide,
Although not this time, ye green horse are we astride.
Afar and agleam, our mind still must dream,
Across the vast inky black, under heaven star-spawned
Our courage holds strong, as we seek far and long
For our own, Land of Beyond.

Despite the calms and storms, through which this journey has led,
To the places we've dreamed, our desire has fed.
I sail now where the silence is brood, and the vast horizons begin.
That goal we would seek, like the beckoning peak
Like times gone by, we strive for and win.

For us who are true to the trail, by pack, by saddle or by sail,
We carry pride in our soul, that mocks at our goal,
Led on, by a fairness never to fail.
We are out here seeking like ever before,
Whether it be on this, or a far distant shore.
And try how we will; it may be unattainable still,
But this is our bond, to ever seek our very own Land of Beyond

Beyond Dragons.

2010-03-29T22:45:00.001-07:00

March 29, 2010
N20 05.98 W106 23.43

We left last night at 8 pm local time and headed out under a near full moon ant a fresh 12 knot breeze. A choppy sea presented near the coast but smoothed out once we passed the 20 mile offshore mark. I'll keep this short because I am feeling the usual first morning blahs. In fact I may see revisit my breakfast again soon. All is well and we are making good time at 5-6 knots. I won't even bother with the miles left countdown since its still well over 2800 (>5000km). Gotta go out side now.

To stand at the edge of the world, where beyond there be dragons

2010-03-28T07:10:00.000-07:00

For now the last of good friends, tacos and ice cream. We have been hemorrhaging money again but the repairs are complete, the cargo hold is full of groceries, and this adventure is really about to begin! It sounds a bit odd to write that considering that we have been at this for almost a year now, but this next passage is the one that I dreamed of since long before the beginning of this voyage. Sailing off into the sunset across a seemingly endless expanse of open ocean with nothing except our boat, a star to steer by, and the hope of raising a deserted tropical island out of the endless curvature. That’s the dream, today, our reality! Oh my friends, how I have dreamed and worked and thought and schemed to make this experience happen. To sit here on the brink of this grand adventure, should fill me with a sense of accomplishment and anticipation. It does nothing of the sort. We have not sailed far enough to satisfy my mind. I only yearn to see what’s beyond the next wave, the next sunrise, the next horizon waiting just over there and beyond. Come with us friends, if only in mind and thought on this grand voyage, with us aboard IO across the grand Pacific. We will spend an entire lunar cycle seeking the beyond, under an endless sky, chasing an endless horizon, trailing our endless wake.

In preparation

2010-03-28T07:05:00.001-07:00

Siesta in La Cruz

2010-03-28T06:48:00.000-07:00

Despite our needs for final preparations, we have learned that Siesta is a necessity.

New Isla Isabella Video

2010-03-22T08:10:00.003-07:00

I have posted a new video of some of the wildlife we encountered at Isla Isabella. It is under the original Isabella post, so just scroll down the page to have a look.

Random acts of kindness and the problem of limited space.

2010-03-20T10:46:00.000-07:00

We are simply not that far away from home yet. We are still near airports and cars, Costco and yes, even a Home Depot lays in our midst. One could drive from here to our hometown in a matter of a few days.

Soon, so soon, this will be far far in our wake. I think and feel that we have not gone far enough, sailed long enough, seen what I have come to see, whatever that may be. However, regardless of this perceived lack of mileage, we have wandered through numerous interesting, remote and unprivileged (only in an economic sense) communities. Bella Bella, San Quintin, Man of War or San Carlos, all have their charm, their beauty and their poverty. Whether it was a fishing village in Northern BC with a population of children with rampant seafood allergies or the quaint Magdalena Bay, having been just wiped out by a hurricane, we have met people in need. We have heard the usual, bring pencils, toys, clothing, batteries and fishhooks to give away or trade for local goods. Anything that promotes education and economic revitalization via stimulating local industry or just basic well-being is welcome cargo.

Our latest shipment of dispensables via my sister's visit filled our meager cargo hold with an abundance of toys, clothing and stationary which I am told will be met with open arms and open hearts in the remote South Pacific.

We have enjoyed sharing this experience with you, our friends, our acquaintances both present and future. And with an idea given to me by one such acquaintance, I hope to be the conduit to share a little more with the communities that we visit.

We have decided to add a “donate to a random act of kindness” button on our blog. The proceeds of which will be entirely used to supply the communities we visit with local and suitable acts of kindness, which will be documented here when possible. Our emphasis will be on purchasing and distributing educational and medical supplies to the communities we visit, but we are not limited to this. Our friends on Oblivion came up with this idea and have already put their proceeds to several random acts of kindness including donating over $300 to a local ice-cream shop for the local kids here in La Cruz. Kids and ice-cream, pure joy. So please, expand our cargo hold by giving a little and by sharing our blog with your friends and encouraging them to donate.

cruising community

2010-03-19T14:42:00.000-07:00

La cruz de Huanacaxtle, Nayarit, Mexico

“How much chain do you have out?“
“150ft.“
“All right, that will keep you from swinging into us. Have a good day.“

The cruising community seems to me like the Korean extended family: They’re all in your business, but also there to help you out. You cannot have one without the other.

How did the quote go…“I don’t care to belong to any club that will have me as a member.“ That is how I feel about memberships, especially those requiring plastic cards, usernames, and passwords. But we are amidst the Pacific Puddle Jump group and the level of energy and support right now is quite amazing.

In my late teens and early twenties, backpacking trips to Europe done by so many friends and acquaintances seemed too typical and trendy. The same pictures taken in front of the same church buildings seemed no different than those life-size cardboard stands with the “insert face here“ hole. In my rebellion against any uniform culture, I guess I had failed to see the unique nature of each person’s travel details.

Now that I start thinking of my life in decades (feeling old today, hyo?), I see that starting with the times of girl scouts, there is something special about belonging to a community. Whether it be climbing, yoga, or science, there are friendships, exchange of resources, mental support, and pride that might even have a touch of self-righteousness.

I will never forget the heartwarming brief encounter we had with a fellow boat after we rounded Point Conception. The red and white navigation lights in the thick of the night were the only visual features giving a “face“ to the friendly deep voice heard over the VHF radio. As we exchanged information on weather and sea conditions we’d each experienced and said our good-byes, I felt my energy renewed.

People refer to the Pacific crossing and subsequent routes as the ”coconut milk run”. But who cares? There are so many unique stories to be told. Like seashells on a beach, one can pick up a handful of the same species, but each shell will have a slightly different feature. Ours is simply unique and special to us.

hyo-jung

A reminder of some of the forces we are dealing with out here.

2010-03-17T10:52:00.001-07:00

We broke some gear. While crossing here from La Paz we spent 18 hours in a full gale and as we found out first hand, the sea state in the Sea of Cortez can build up short choppy sea. Unfortunately, unlike the open ocean, the wave patterns were of very short period and steep which means that the waves are hitting the boat more frequently making an uncomfortable bumpy lumpy sail. Hyo-jung and I were both inside during a shift change when we heard a uniquely ominous crashing wave approach IO. Not a second later we were hit and thrust sideways and over at least 40 degrees. Hyo quickly opened the hatch and in the moonlight we could see the cockpit was filled to overflowing with seawater. Sploosh! Another wave hit just then and with the door ajar water sprayed into the navigation station soaking the seat, walls, and spraying most the of the electronics. Being “pooped” like this can be particularly dangerous because while our cockpit is smaller than most boat designs, it can still hold over one ton of water and if it does not drain fast enough before another wave hits, the weight of the water could drag the stern of the boat so low into the water that the next wave could crash directly into the boat. Fortunately the second wave only splashed us but as we found out later, this experience left its mark.

While anchored in the beautiful Isla Isabela, Hyo noticed that the windvane rudderpost was looking funny. Upon closer inspection, we found that the post had been bent sideways about 10 degrees. Now this is not insignificant, as this post is 1 ¼ inch thick solid super-duplex stainless steel (stainless steel on steroids). This is the strongest individual piece of gear on this boat and one wave in the wrong direction bent it like a pretzel! Needless to say our wind-vane is out of commission and we are dealing with getting a new post down from Canada.

When we next pulled up our main sail, we noticed that two of the bolts that secure the main sail outhaul track (the bit that holds the main sail to the boom) had partially been torn out. I had to lash it down until we reached port.

We certainly have sailed through bigger wind and waves but that reminded us that the forces produced out here can be tremendous and that IO is just a small ship on a big ocean.

charlie's charts mexico

2010-03-15T20:43:00.000-07:00

A quick thank you to whoever it was that dropped off charlie's charts mexico on our boat last year, please let us know who you are. It has been very useful to us and we have not been able to thank you!

"Buenos Nachos!"

2010-03-13T15:04:00.000-08:00

“Punch buggy, no returns!”

Two fists belonging to a uncle Mike and Xavery darted back and forth in front of me while our buttocks simultaneously launched off our seats on the ultra-bumpy bus ride. This is the wrong country to be playing punch buggy – VW bugs are everywhere!

We spent ten days with the Mulholland’s exploring Puerto Vallarta. Christy’s family was our land support in Victoria where they generously shared their laundry machines and mailboxes with us. Here, they also shared their luxuries with us: unlimited hot showers, internet access, laundry, and yes, gigantic kitchen counter space.

We attempted to play “Io, the charter boat“ and took everyone out to Las Tres Marietas. Amazingly, our boat did cater and sleep four adults and four kids. Despite the uncomfortable night in Punta de Mita and choppy sea conditions resulting in numerous green faces, we were in good spirits.

It was a true vacation for Mike and I as well. Somewhere along the way, the fatigues of each passages and stress of repairs and chores must have sucked out the fun-seeking natures in us. Every time we entered a new port, we immediately went into our habit of looking for necessities such as water, fuel, markets, or hardware stores. We needed to break out of this routine and really enjoy sightseeing. Christy’s excitement and enthusiasm are exactly what we needed to make this experience “real”. Belly-laughing with the kids had the magical powers of relieving knots in my stomach. Being tourists together with family taught me to open my eyes to the details of the twisty tree branches, hear the flutes and drums of the Huichol Indians, and smell the BBQ fumes of flattened chicken.

I felt refreshed. All my surroundings felt more real. I appreciate what we have right now and am thankful.