Dancyn2004-09-18T12:35:38ZWe are crossing the Pacific in a 32 foot sailboat named Dancyn. We update this blog when we can via our onboard radio. tag:www.photosntravels.com,2005:/mt/heatherblog/2Movable TypeCopyright (c) 2004, heather2004-09-18T12:35:38Z2004-09-15T14:15:35-08:00tag:www.photosntravels.com,2004:/mt/heatherblog/2.272004-09-15T22:15:35Z September 13, 2004: Dancyn prances north. More like bucking our way north. We are about a week out of the Tuamotus in French Polynesia enroute to Hawaii. Of course we know we are going the wrong way. And on...heatherhtinsman@yahoo.com
September 13, 2004: Dancyn prances north. More like bucking our way north. We are about a week out of the Tuamotus in French Polynesia enroute to Hawaii. Of course we know we are going the wrong way. And on purpose, too. But the kitty could use a little freshening up and we scored some jobs in Hawaii that will keep us in Polynesia and out of Alaska. We were hoping to grab a hold of some of the nice light fluffy southeast wind we had for about two weeks in the anchorage before we left. But Neptune had other plans for us, and we have been dealing with strong winds up our nose, sometimes up near gale force--30+, plenty of squalls, and plenty of motion for this ol' pony. But the stick is pretty solid and has taken the beating like a champ. Better than we have of course. HT's seasickness coma has subsided some so that she's actually able to type on the computer a bit, and John hopped on the menu-making, perhaps dismayed of days and days of only bananas, plain rice, and buttered pasta. Ahhh, bananas. Some locals gave us a huge hand of them before we left and the little suckers are so damn tasty but they all go at once. Little fat guys, easy to pop 5-6 at a time, but after awhile, there can only be so much one can take. HT's hands have broken out into itchy little blisters. An allergy perhaps? Perhaps an allergy to passages. Where's the damn chopper? But we both admit that the bananas were a far superior option to the fatty canned venison of New Caldonia that some friends gave us before we left.
We are about 100 miles south of the equator. After that, we'll contend with light and variable winds characteristic of the equatorial belt, some squalls and perhaps thunderstorms as we pass through the Intertropic Convergence Zone, that space between the southeast trades of the southern hemisphere and the northeast trades of the northern hemisphere, hang a left and hopefully sleigh ride the rest of the 1500 miles to the tropicana madness of Honolulu. The Marquesas were unreal, but the Tuamotus were beyond imagining. We lived like fishes, suckled off coconuts, chopped it up with the locals, slaughtered French, and spent less money there than in the cheap burros of Central America. Perhaps the friendliest people we have met so far. They must be used to making quick friends by now in the wake of Cook, Bligh and all the other great white terrorizing high-seas adventurers that come from the land of many things just beyond the horizon. Amazing how those with less share more openly. We Americans, people, Citizens of the Planet, have benefited greatly from such encounters. Of course, the islanders have what we like to refer to as stuff envy. They want stuff, even if they don't need it. They all have satellite t.v. and dvd players, yet live in rough-hewn houses with too many kids popping out everywhere. Everyone seems well provided for though. The sea and coconut trees give plenty. And the French keep things rather first world, as it should be since that territory costs the French taxpayer quite a bundle. We being on a 32 foot sailboat don't have much stuff, but we were able to round up some things to trade for everything from bananas and tough goat meat to pearls and lobster feasts. Living is good.
Not much to keep us company out here these days though, 'cept for the lone bird and the occasional gecko sighting. We hijacked some geckos before we left to deal with our exploding fruit fly colony. We found one guy out on the bimini in the cockpit today. Poor guy was probably trying to commit suicide. Can't say I blame him. Boat life is wearisome at times, but all worth it in the long run. During times like these, all that really matters is that at the end of the day we are still on the boat. We hated to leave, but the idea of spending the next several months tied up to marina, scoping out the mai-tai deals and sneaking into hotels for a dip in the hot tub is not all that bad either.
2004-09-18T12:35:38Z2004-09-15T14:15:17-08:00tag:www.photosntravels.com,2004:/mt/heatherblog/2.262004-09-15T22:15:17Z September 15, 2004: Another equator crossing. We crossed that invisible line separating the two hemispheres yesterday. Strange. This place looks awfully familiar. We are thankful for a day of calm, light winds. We are now in that range of...heatherhtinsman@yahoo.com
September 15, 2004: Another equator crossing. We crossed that invisible line separating the two hemispheres yesterday. Strange. This place looks awfully familiar. We are thankful for a day of calm, light winds. We are now in that range of light air that wraps itself around the planet along the equator. We have over 500 miles until we hit the northeast trade winds at around 13 degrees north, after which we'll hook a left to Hawaii. For now, we are sailing due north, slowly inching our way to the east as the winds lighten up, cutting across the wind more to maintain speed. Cursed by the sailors and whalers and traders sailing these seas centuries ago, this light air is perfect for our light performance ping-pong ball. So we cranked up the ac/dc, popped open a bottle of wine some folks had given us as we were leaving the Tuamotus, and celebrated another successful equator crossing. Thank you, Neptune. Having fully recovered from my seasickness coma, I whipped up some vegetarian thai spring rolls accompanied by a coconut-peanut butter satay sauce. Somebody slap my mama. We actually have vegetables on board! We were only able to afford carrots and radishes at the store since tomatoes, green beans, cucumbers and what not were like $5-$9/kilo. Someone gave us a cucumber and a head of cabbage--bless them--as another parting gift and I was able to score fish sauce--a.k.a. poopoo sauce, rice paper wrappers, and bean noodles at the store in the Marquesas. We invited the whole neighborhood to ratchet it us with us...."too many women, too many pills." A couple of sooty terns and masked boobies showed up, but that was about it.
No fish. It was too rough to fish at first--and you know it must be rough if Johnnie ain't fishin', and then John cut his hand pretty bad a couple of days ago and just hasn't felt like playing a fish. I just want to eat 'em, so we threw in a hand line yesterday with the understanding that I'll clean the sucker. I'm getting my pot ready.
We sadly parted ways with the Tuamotus. It will have been exactly one year of not working for the man once we return to work on October 4th. French Polynesia was definitely the most expensive place we have been to, but thanks to the consumer heaven of Panama, we stocked the boat well, rum included, and spent well under $500 in four months of cruising. In many places, there just wasn't any spot to spend our money. We spent 2 weeks in the atoll of Toau, where we basically moved in with Teapiri and Rose and their bundle of chitlins, one of 4 families living on the motu. They spoke excellent english and made their living from the sea. They have these interesting fish traps set up on the reef that herd fish into chicken-wire pens as the tide moves in and out of the lagoon. Its an awesome way to see all kinds of magnificent fish. We got in a couple of times to pick out some fish for dinner. Teapiri and his sons do a lot of spearfishing for weekly boats that come in to buy fish for Tahiti. John went out with them one day and spent most of his time pushing off sharks that were trying to get at the speared fish. Black-tipped and gray reef sharks. They are not too aggressive, more like hungry dogs. Still, it was unnerving. We sadly said goodbye to the Estrela sea fairies and the Whatever, whom we had been with for almost 3 months. After they left, we were the only boat in the anchorage for over a week and spent almost every meal with Rose and Teapiri. I think we might have cooked dinner twice on Dancyn in all that time. Once because sea turtle was on the menu and that was our way of protesting their illegal catch which they are fully aware of. We were disappointed that they would take a sea turtle since there was obviously no shortage of food: fish, fish, fish, octopus, clams, oysters, snails, lobster, slipper crabs, green crabs, coconut crabs, varo--lobster-like animal, and of course the blessed coconut. But they said it was like red meat and very tasty. The other time we cooked dinner was for Teapiri's birthday since Rose had a bad case of hemorrhoids so volunteered us to cook the meal. Poor woman. I gave her some ibroprofin and she was so impressed with it. The next day she told me that she gave it to Mana when he complained of a sore shoulder, to Teapiri for his hurt wrists, and to Violette, her daughter, who was having leg pains. I wonder if they just weren't complaining just to try some of the "good medicine." I just about fell over when Rose told me they even gave a little to their sick kitten. He did get better oddly enough. French Polynesia definitely has the feel of first world money. I wouldn't say that they are rich, but they have access to many consumer goods in Tahiti, and things are well-maintained by the French. How they afford anything is beyond me. But they definitely suffer from the stuff phenomenon. They just want stuff even if they don't need it. Perhaps centuries of being stuck on islands while people stream by from distant lands past the horizon has got them hankering for stuff. Because the standard of living is high, people have new Land Rovers, the Catholic Church has a strong presence, we had at first forgotten that these islands are still remote and attached to their roots in many ways. One day while we were walking past a plant that had been kicked over, Violette reached down to fix it, but was stopped quickly by Rose who yelled sharply, "don't touch, you're malade." Violette was having her period, her "malade", and her mom informed her that she could kill the plant if she touched it during that time. On the atoll of Apataki, there is a rock, a tiki, that people still pay homage to by bringing garlands of shells and nuts because they believe a spirit lives there that could cause ill luck, even though all of these people dutifully go to church every week. Guess rocks in the Tuamotus are few and far between. Many things are still taboo, like being out after dark. If you have to go out, never leave home without a flash light, even if there is ample light to see by. Glad to see the world hasn't completely homogenized. And of course, "good medicine" is still impressing the natives. Unfortunately most of that good medicine has been to cope with the bad diseases brought in by foreigners.
We spent a week tied up to the wharf off the village in Apataki, the first time the boat has been tied up since Mexico. A fair-sized town of 400 people, it is fueled by the numerous black pearl farms scattered throughout the atoll. Everyday at 6 a.m., folks load into boats that take them out to the farms for the day, finishing the day at 5 or 6 p.m. Yuck. Our first place where people actually had 9-5 jobs. Of course, many people catch fish and harvest copra to sell to Tahiti. We were sorta of the town's pet for the week we were there. People were constantly inviting us over for coffee or a meal or a dip of water from the cistern to rise the salt off. And they were constantly stopping by to peer into our floating world. It was a frustrating, busy week. A boat problem has a way of opening up a can of worms. John spent hours up the stick trying to replace the metal pin that holds the forestay up only to discover one of the fittings were loose, the other pin up there was even uglier than the first, and so forth and so forth. Normally, we would have been happy not knowing these things, but we were facing a 3-week beat to weather, so we needed the insurance. The rig was about to encounter conditions that it hadn't had to face for days and days on end. We hacked and sawed and drilled and glued and just ran nonstop for a week. Of course, we were also busy squeezing in some socializing. We had this one man over for coffee one day who had half of his face tattooed. Come to find out, he was from the Marquesas and did tattoos out of his home. Of course, I couldn't resist getting a big tiki face on my butt cheek. The first day we were there, John and I crashed this little rocket ship of a sailboat, a 3.80, for 3.80 meters long. A small, two-person jobbie, its light, fast and an accident waiting to happen. The collision with the coral head cost us some time repairing that, but it did make us fast friends with the French couple who was living there, Paul and Fanny. They had just sold that boat to a local so we fixed it at their house. They had arrived 5 years ago on a small, steel sailboat and had been living there ever since working on pearl farms. They were young dorkie biologists like us with a washing machine, shower, ice, and loads of scuba equipment along with a compressor to fill tanks. A cruiser's dream come true! I dove once, John twice--I had my tattoo then and couldn't get in the ocean. They plan on setting sail soon and making underwater documentaries. We became good friends with Atanas, Moerna, and their 8 monkey children who liked to hang all over the boat when school was out and we were neck deep in projects. Atanas and Moerna paid us nightly visits to swap some talk and walk away with a dvd to borrow. Every night they did this. They brought us coconuts, bananas, shell necklaces and gave us a beautiful wooden paddle before we left. Atanas and his beautiful long-haired children are big surfers and John won big by giving Atanas a bunch of polyester resin and fixing some of his surf boards. Not sure what the paddle was all about. But should the shit hit the fan and we have to ditch it into our pseudo-life raft, we'll have a sturdy paddle. The wharf was a mixed bag. We were able to take apart everything and spread out on terra firma, yet the two nights we were kicked off the wharf in the middle of the night by cargo ships--one was expected, one was not, were incidents shy of heart attacks. The first time, we were able to squeeze into one small nook of the wharf--rebarb and broken cement slabs included, but slept little with the bow of the boat less than one meter from our stern. There was no other option the next night when we woke up to a horn and spot light of a huge cargo boat that forced us to look for a mooring ball that we had heard was in the pass. Fortunately, there was no wind and it was slack tide. Unfortunately, there was no mooring, so we tied up to a fishing net that was within spitting distance of the reef for 4 hours until the boat left.
Dodging bullets, making fast friends, dealing with tricky weather, but having the time of our lives. We really are bummed about going back to work. Even more bummed about being tossed around like a ping-pong ball sailing the wrong direction up to Hawaii. But such eye blinks are well worth it. I had a dream last night that Bush won the election. Frightening. Hope Americans aren't silly enough to vote in a leader that has cost us jobs, money and innocent lives, both domestic and overseas. We have applied for our absentee ballot. Don't forget to vote!
2004-09-18T12:35:38Z2004-08-16T09:33:19-08:00tag:www.photosntravels.com,2004:/mt/heatherblog/2.252004-08-16T17:33:19Z Kauehi Atoll, Tuamotos, August 15, 2004. So quickly the days tick tock on by. We decided to haul anchor and bust a move for another atoll. Estrela, who keeps a fairly open eye on the weather--glad someone is!, noticed...heatherhtinsman@yahoo.com
Kauehi Atoll, Tuamotos, August 15, 2004.
So quickly the days tick tock on by. We decided to haul anchor and bust a move for another atoll. Estrela, who keeps a fairly open eye on the weather--glad someone is!, noticed some possible lows coming our way on the weather fax and we wanted to get out of here before we got stuck having to replay the drama of a couple of days prior. We have had the whole atoll to ourselves for the last week along with Estrela and the Whatever. Sometimes, friends are made so easily. It has been a real treat to get to know Estrela, Doug and Kyle and the two sea goddess fairies, Eliza and Abigail, from Woodstock, Connecticut. Doug is an environmental lawyer/lobbyist with the Environmental Defence fund, of all places. Kyle is a singer/actress/cocktail waitress by trade. They have taken the next 3-4 years off to circumnavigate this orb of globe and give the kids a chance to see something other than Brittney Spears and Pepsi-cola. We have had too much fun, swimming, snorkeling, fishing, eating, dressing up as polynesian princesses, and doing circus jumps off their bow which sticks out over the water 6 feet or so. They took the lumpy route across the Pacific, via Pitcairn, the Gambiers and a couple of other less-visited atolls. They are on a Westsail 32, a tank of a boat, and almost two of ours, despite the same length. We have a 10,000 pound displacement, and they have 20,000 pounds. A slow old burro, but one to keep the fam safe.
Doug came through here on another sailboat some 15 years ago. He has rekindled a connection with a family he met back then, Tanya and Taverio, two beautiful people with whom we also had the pleasure of getting to know briefly. They even have a log book of visiting yachts over the years that Doug signed way back when. How amazing to return with your family. They are like the village elders here in this small town of 250, which is quite large actually for these motus, this one being a whopping 10 miles by 400 yards. Copra is the mainstay of the island. At one point there were 52 pearl farms along with a whole pile of Tahitian workers to work them, but nowadays there are only 3. From what I gather, the market was flooded once every atoll jumped on the pearl deal and the price plummeted. We made church the first morning we were here and that is always a great introduction to these small communities. Mostly Catholic out here, and they have a prayer session every day. That's a lot of praying, I suppose. And singing. Lots of singing during the services. The priest visits these remote outposts only 3 times a year, so selected men in the community are trained by the church to lead the services and hand out communion. Hey, I didn't know the Catholic church bent the rules like that. Maybe one day they'll bend the rules on birth control and help out these communities that pump out handfuls of children. Although I have to admit that French Polynesia is definitely first world money. People seem to live very well, have new cars to drive the 10 miles from end to end, and have subsidized prices on basic food stuffs. From what we hear, it certainly costs the French taxpayers a pretty penny to keep up the territory. The church was beautifully laden with shells and homemade cloth banners. No shortage of shells out here! Lots of images of the Virgin goddess, Mary, and a couple of images of Jesus in a pareao and a lay of flowers outstretched in one hand--Polynesian Jesus! You know its a laid-back service when the man leading the service in his ceremonious-white robe strolls past the pews in flip flops and the man leading the choir has a loud-flowered shirt and sunglasses on. Taverio, who was the "chief" or mayor when Doug came here the first time, no longer gives the Eucharist but does do the sermon. Its done in Puamotoan, the language of the Tuamotos. Tanya and Taverio totally took us in, draping necklaces of shells, flowers, or palm leaves whenever we visited. John received the nickname, Johnnie-Paw-NaNa, which we never were able to discern the meaning, but perhaps had something to do with the bucket of fish that he showed up with one day. Ciguatera struck Kauehi 3-4 years ago and the primary fish diet has given way to one of frozen chicken and canned meat. Along with refined sugar, rice and white flour. Most of the fish in the lagoon are dangerous to eat but there a couple that are safe. It just so happens that we had a farm's worth of these unicorn fish, which were tangs with 2-inch horns sticking out of their foreheads. John got some quick thrills luring them to the surface with cracker crumbs and stickin' 'em with the Hawaiian sling. After a couple of days of that, they either caught on or we depleted the population enough because they failed to surface so quickly. They loved Johnnie-Pau-NaNa after that. Fish taken from outside the reef are safe, but these 70-year olds aren't doing too much fishing boat travel. The Whatever has some recording equipment they have use for "peace journalism" and Allison and I went in one day and interviewed Taverio, as best we could with our shaky French, about the ciguatera outbreak and how it has affected the community. He blames the building of the quai and airport along with all the 12-volt batteries that were tossed aside once the island went from solar panels to a diesel generator. Ciguatera is a fish toxin that the fish consume but don't get affected by, but can cause some serious illness in humans, occasionally death. Ahh, thorns in paradise. Taverio wants the community to clean up because he says people have no regard and just throw plastic and other trash wherever. But John had a ball catching and terrorizing new kinds of fish. On the passage from the Marquesas, we caught a short-billed spearfish, a long, skinny marlin with a short bill. Inside the lagoon, there were grouper galore, along with emperor fish and some different snappers. I caught a magnificent emperor fish but I must admit, its not as much fun if you can't eat them. Not for Johnnie-Pau-NaNa. The diving is amazing. The coral near the town looks pretty worn out actually, and there is loads of trash left over from old pearl farms. We went out to a nearby coral motu and snorkeled with Estrela. The motu was probably 100 yards wide, 2 feet deep and then dropped quickly on all sides. We saw 3 different kinds of sharks, white-tip, reef black-tip, and gray reef-sharks. Hello food chain. No monsters and all 3 are fairly docile as long as there is no spearfishing going on. They were all over us as we were trying to terrorize the grazing unicorn fish, we luckily we didn't score or else we may have been feeding a shark! They real threats are the tiger and lemon sharks. Sharks are just a reality out here, and for the most part, are harmless.
The Tuamotos are like those pictures you see of tropical paradises with white-sand beaches, palm trees and turquoise water. Like something out of the travel brochures, wild and unspoiled. But the weather can come up fast and wicked. We woke up one morning to northeast wind and clouds on the horizons. The anchorage is protected from east and southeast, but as the day progressed we started to get some blustery west wind that put all three of us on a lee shore. We were foolish enough not to take advantage of the morning and move the 3 miles to the northern perimeter of the atoll. A couple of days of glassy conditions tricked us. Things really started to buck by late afternoon. Estrela and Whatever snapped anchor snubbers, bow lines going down to the chain that absorb the bounce instead of the chain. Things got real bouncy since the chop picked up from the 20 knots of wind. The anchor rode, the line that connects to the chain to give us longer anchoring scope, chafed through the bow roller,but luckily didn't chafe the line too much, and then our bow started to dig down. Obviously we had wrapped around coral heads when the weather shifted and we were worried about damaging our bow because we had such a short leash of chain since it was stuck in some coral. We tried diving down to pick the chain off the coral heads but fat chance. Doug came over to assist and we ended up picking up the anchor from the anchor side along with the chain from the dingy. We figured the chain was wrapped and the boat wouldn't go anywhere. How stupid to have all of us in the water, cus sho' enough, the boat started to drag. Without hesitation, I swam as fast as my panic-stricken self would go. When I got to the boat we were in 11.7 feet of water. We anchored in 25 and we draw 6 feet. SHIT! After that, we were able to reanchor and ride out the 25 knots of wind along with cold stinging rain that plagued us until about 3 a.m. without incident. We woke up the next day, light winds out of the southwest, clocking around to the southeast, as if nothing had happened. Another pertinent lesson regarding the Tuamotos, the wind shifts so quickly, you gotta keep an eye on the weather and be ready to move to another spot on a moment's notice. We're not in Panama anymore! We caught the edge of a low further south of us. Doug thought some more lows moving our way may be a problem, so we figured we needed to get out or else we would be weathered in for a couple of more days. All three of us charged the pass late morning, somehow we ended up first! Estrela was in front of us but pulled out just before the pass. They reported the incoming current was strong enough that they wanted to put up some sail to help them through. We had just missed slack water, which we were tentatively shooting for, and had to punch throw a bubbling incoming current of 4+ knots. Since we are lucky to squeeze 6 out of our engine, we must have just hit it just right 'cus we were motoring about 5 knots and dropped down to 0.5. It was so beautiful going through. The water was a clear rich sapphire blue and much clearer than it was by the village. So we are off to Toau. We called Don on the radio, the weather wizard, and he said that there aren't any lows that should cause us problems, and he predicted light northeasterlies. And sho' enuf, we have had light northeasterlies all night. The trip is only 60 miles, so we have accepted our snail's pace. It's dawn and we are less than 3 miles away!
2004-09-18T12:35:38Z2004-08-14T08:33:38-08:00tag:www.photosntravels.com,2004:/mt/heatherblog/2.242004-08-14T16:33:38Z August 7, 2004: The Heart attack sail, Our Introduction to Coral Atolls. We left the Marquesas on August 3, 2004, bound for our next island group, the Tuamotos. It was hard to pull ourselves away from the mysterious blazing...heatherhtinsman@yahoo.com
August 7, 2004: The Heart attack sail, Our Introduction to Coral Atolls.
We left the Marquesas on August 3, 2004, bound for our next island group, the Tuamotos. It was hard to pull ourselves away from the mysterious blazing green humps of rock rising straight from the ocean, but it was also time to continue exploring. There is a particular sadness in saying good-bye to people, places when you know that you will probably never return to such shores. The Marquesains were great warriors once, and the last of the polynesians to give up cannibalism. When the Europeans first arrived there were 60,000-100,000 inhabitants. The whitefolks didn't have to stick around long to subdue the heathen natives because the invisible bombshells called germs and diseases did a more effective job than humans could have ever done. Syphillus, elephantiasis, tuberculosis, influenza brought the numbers down to a few thousand. Today the real diseases are the discotheques and cell phones of Tahiti that entrap most of the youth. Roots are severed at an early age since all 12-year old children leave their homes to attend high school on the islands of Hiva Oa or Nuka Hiva (that goes for most of French Polynesia; imagine everyone from 12-18 are away at school most of the year--must be quiet!). Those interested in higher learning have to go to Tahiti, and from there it's harder to return to their childhood villages. Elephantitous is still an issue in some places and visitors staying longer than 4 months in Fatu Hiva, our first land fall, are recommended to stop by the clinic and pick up free medicine. A few of the old folks still have tree trunks legs. The dependence on heavily refined sugar and flour and processed canned meats and cheese are another problem. "Let them eat cake." At least the baguettes are subsidized and cheap at 40 cents a loaf. But the lush green jungle falling down from rugged peaks into dark damp valleys still holds much magic and mystery embraced by the proud, tattooed people. There are tons of artists making some living off of carving the alien-like tikis into wood, stone and bone. We visited one spot called "Valley of the Artistians" and everyone but one person supplemented their income with carvings. Imagine living in a beautiful place overgrown with flowers and fruit trees and making art for a living. There is tons and tons of evidence of the fierce warriors of yesteryears. Short walks into the valleys reveal numerous stone pae-paes, residential platforms comprised of piling small boulders atop one another, and me'ae, ceremonial platforms often adorned with stone tikis. On Nuka Hiva, we walked "the royal road" past thousands of platforms and other artifacts to the second highest waterfall in the world. Covered in moss and shade, the platforms and the strange bug-eyed stone tikis runs the imagination wild. Especially since not much is known of these civilizations. When you consider all the wild artifacts strewn across the pacific, the 20+ ton statues of remote Easter Island to the mega lithic pillars and arches of Micronesia, you can't help but think there must have been some serious contacts with other islands, continents, planets???? There is some wild stuff out here. The people have been so generous. There is so much food growing in the Marquesas: pompomousse--giant juicy grapefruit, oranges, limes, pineapple, papaya, mangoes, taro, manioc, watercress, mint, basil, 7 different kinds of bananas, guavas, strange apple-type fruits, breadfruit, and of course, coconuts, coconuts, coconuts since most of the folks make a living off of copra harvests, dried coconut meat used for palm oil. Copra is probably the biggest economy for most of the pacific islanders. It was really something to be in a place where good fresh food is not just a commodity for the upper crust. We had no problem switching to a mostly-fruit diet and even figured out how to properly get into the coconut, which btw, happens to be a natural laxative. We did some trading, mostly on Fatu Hiva, for fruit and art. Big sellers were nail polish and perfume. Also, fish hooks, line, watches, reading glasses, hair clips, t-shirts, whatever other stuff that may be of some value around the boat. We picked up a couple of things in Panama, but since we're camping in a sports car, we don't have that much space for stuff. Its also just about gifting. They give you something, we give them something, and since I'm spoiled by the exploits of JohnRand the Fisherman, our fresh fish is always a hit. I hunted out many a' mothers in the Marquesas. FOOD! I picked some watercress--wow, green leafy food--with Felicity on Fatu Hiva and so I made her some yogurt. She was so grateful that we couldn't walk by her house without some sort of food shoved down our throats. Fatu Hiva really was beyond words. Its the only Marquesian island without an airstrip so its a little more off the beaten track for visitors. Mainly just sailboats and cargoships. And of course, cruise ships a couple of times a year. Puke, but then again that's who buys most of the art at exorbitant prices. Americans have a reputation for paying high dollar for anything. The joke is they will even pay top dollar for rocks if you tell them they have great archeological value. Ahhhh, well, at least the Americans are taking some of the dollars out of the hands of the greedy elite ruining our country.
So onwards to the Tuamotos. We had some stiff easterlies leaving Marquesas, but they pushed our ping-pong pony along even with two reefs in the main, and we made excellent time southwards to our next anchorage. The winds finally quit on us as the roller coaster ride slowed to a mere 2 knots. Right about the time we were changing the guard at about 4 in the morn, the entire southern sky turned black and ugly. Its wild to be at the interface of weather changes. Within moments, the wind clocked around to our nose, the rain poured down and we took off to windward with the gunwales down and hatches battened. (Okay, switch theme songs from the ethereal south pacific ukulele to iron maiden sea shanties and hold on!) I managed to scratch some sleep from the bumpy ride and awoke to a gray ugly dawn and blustery winds--coming from the direction we wanted to go of course! We were shooting for the atoll of Kauehi. John spotted the low-lying island some 7-9 miles off to starboard. What a change from the tall peaks of the Marquesas. Infamously known as the Dangerous Archipelago, the islands have been revered, feared, and mostly avoided by sailors over the years. Captain Cook managed to weave his way around two or three times, but then again, that guy sailed almost every stretch of sea from Cape Horn to the Chukchi Sea north of Russia. But many o' boats have found their graves amongst the coral reefs that rise quickly from 100 feet to less than a foot below the surface. Thanks to GPS and more accurate charts, the Tuamotos are opening up to the sailing world. Over time, volcanic bulges bubblinng up from great depths and charging up out of the water, like the Marquesas, erode away to nil. But since we are talking glacial pace here, the prolific coral polyps of tropic oceans that build their limestone structures on the periphery of the land create enough structure over time to support themselves from great depths as the land gives way to sand and dust. The atoll, nothing more than a band of reef encircling a lagoon, is the final stage of the island volcanic life cycle. Sometimes continuous, but most often broken into a series of motus or islets varying in length from a couple hundred yards to ten miles long and usually no wider than 300-400 yards wide. "From the air, the motus appear as sparkling beads of a necklace." Boats enter via passes between the coral reefs or motus and once inside boats have to carefully navigate around coral pinnacles charted and uncharted. The rules of the road: 1-enter during slack tides. Water squeezing through the passes can cause huge breakers, overfalls which are like miniwaterfalls, and currents up to 10 knots. Not fun for our old atomic-four beast. Shit, I think the only direction we would move would be backwards. 2-navigate under clear skies and polarized sunglasses with the sun behind you; avoid early morning and late afternoon. Coral pinnacles can rise up from depths of even 100 feet to just below the surface. Water color is the best indication of where these hull crunchers are and the glare off the water can kill your visibility if you are facing the sun or it is low in the horizon. 3-navigate when the water is smooth or else the chop can hide the dangers. 4-screw the charts, they probably date back to Captain Cook's soundings, keep your eyes on the water, and for the love of god, know your navigation basics and what the navigation markers mean; we're not in 'Merica anymore. With that said, I think we broke just about every rule coming in here. We did manage to hit the pass near a slack tide so we were able to make some headway despite water still spilling out and wind up our nose. The pass, in fact, was the easiest part even though we were scared senseless. There is not much room for error shooting down the throat of these things with little maneuvering space and breakers on either side. The water was still coming out a bit and parts of the channel did look like #5 white water rapids, but we trusted the coastal pilot and cruising guides and steered a course through the pass which took us safely to the other side even though we did drop down to 1.5 knots full-throttled--it sounded as if our beast was going to motor right off the engine mounts. The roller coaster ride lasted less than 5 minutes. Our problem was that it was late afternoon, overcast skies, choppy seas, we had very basic charts for the lagoon, and 8 miles of doughnut hole to navigate through to get to the anchorage on the other side of the atoll. We were about to break all the major rules because we did not want to hove to off the island for a night to wait for the next slack water mark. The sailing directions, a coastal pilot prepared by the National Imagery and Mapping Agency providing indispensable information on harbors, coasts and other details that cannot be shown on a chart, gave very explicit directions for navigating the lagoon and we felt safe relying on them in lieu of visibility of coral heads. But out of my delirium and anxiety and stupidity, I failed to double check my bearings and I had us going into no man's land. We ended up miles from the main channel with little light to spare before nightfall. The bearing was given in true degrees and us smart humans have to correct for magnetic deviation. The magnetic deviation for any given area is included on the compass rose of each chart, a number and a direction, although most charts have two compass roses, one for true and one for magnetic so there is no calculating the difference. We had the smart-kids chart and I was on the short bus, so to speak. I could have pulled my hair out once I realized the mistake and the reality that we could be in the middle of coral heads and that I was responsible for endangering the boat. John did an amazing job piloting the pass and holding a steady course despite the chop and headwinds and lack of visibility. Too bad it was the wrong course! We were in radio contact with our friends on the Whatever who were still en route to Kauehi and were going to hove to for the night. I kept calling them for chart information since they had fancy computer charts. Come to find out there wasn't much to hit out there but we were just as scared. We finally dropped hook off the big church-small village, as is the trend out here, next to one other sailboat, Estrella, an American family with two daughters, Abigail 6, Eliza 11. We had met them in Galapagos before they took off to Pitcairn. Tough boat! Kyle and Doug brought us over hot cocoa and shared a compulsory stiffie with us. Later on talking to Allison on the Whatever, she asked me, "ahh, yeah, you didn't know that east is least and west is best?" I know now! So much to learn out here, frustrating when its learned under such tight conditions. You better believe we high-tailed our little butts to church the next morning, which just happened to be Sunday, thanking whatever heavens hover over this patch of ocean. Estrella has turned out to be our new favorite friends, and I'm convinced that Abigail and Eliza are sea-goddess fairies.
"Heave, ho, heave, ho, a little more yet to go,
Keep the belly atop the waves,
Tis a sad fate of many sailors and mates
Who have met their watery graves"
2004-09-18T12:35:38Z2004-08-12T00:42:39-08:00tag:www.photosntravels.com,2004:/mt/heatherblog/2.232004-08-12T08:42:39Z August 11, 2004: Hello John here, the other one on the boat! We are ENJOYING our first atoll here in the Tuamotus! The pass was a bit hairy as we entered through a squeeze in the surrounding reef with...heatherhtinsman@yahoo.com
August 11, 2004: Hello John here, the other one on the boat!
We are ENJOYING our first atoll here in the Tuamotus! The pass was a bit hairy as we entered through a squeeze in the surrounding reef with water pouring out of the atoll! That aside, the water is so clear here! Colors fill the lagoon from white sand,turquoise water, and red coral all outlined by the green of coconut palms! Man I wish I had a watercolor kit and some talent! Fishing is almost unfair. I am taking a day off because my fingers are torn up from the teeth of all the fish I had released after playing up to the dink on light tackle! The snorkeling reveals the secrets under the surface! That is where the colors really begin. We saw three different kinds of sharks yesterday! The black tip reef shark, grey reef shark and the whitetip reef shark! No spear fishing!
So this place is suffering some real changes that I feel should be made public and this is the best I have at the moment. I am looking for feed back and Info concerning this subject!
Ciguatera is a fish poison that is accumulated in highest concentration in predator fishes around the reef. The toxin of the poison comes from a dinoflagellate Gambierdiscus toxicus that accumulates on the surface of rocks piers ship wrecks and algae blades. There it is consumed and accumulated by the herbivores which are eaten by predictors. Over time the preditors begin to accumulate enough of this toxin to kill a human if consumed. Ok with that basic background behindus this is what is happening in Kauehe!
Three years they built an airstrip. There was a fair amount of construction and land filling. A Cargo ship sank here in the lagoon near the village leaving a large amount of cement in the lagoon. Other construction and waste has increases in the reascent past as well. Large buildings, waste water and more run off from the village have been entering the bay. So in three years a ciquatoxic free atoll has become contaminated. In other words a place with nothing but coconuts no longer has the fish of the lagoon to eat. This is not uncommon. Many of the atolls have Ciguatera as well as the Marquesis. The south pacific has had hot spots for sometime as well as the Caribbean. The strange part is that this has happened in three years. So fast the locals here could not figure out which fish were off limits therefore regular evacuations form medical care in Tahiti are the new norm!
Now on the other end of the atoll less than 10 miles away from the village the Copra workers regularly eat Parrot fish! The Parrot fish has a beak that it used to feed directly from the coral on the reef. They are usually considered off limits to humans if there is any treat of fish poisoning. Odd that one end of the Atoll is completely unaffected and one is a nightmare! There is talk of moving the 200 person village but that is unlikely.
Well on a lighter note! The general plan is to head back the 2000 miles to windward for Hawaii for some work in the Long line swordfish fishery as Observers! We work everyday but never get paid so this should be a pleasant change! Scheduling is still up in the air. Until then we will proceed to explore the atolls of the Tuamotu Archipelago that was once considered the drift net for Yachts! Now with GPS these hidden places are beginning to be explored by cruisers and their treasures revealed.
We went to a church service Sunday and the singing and Polynesian music was uplifting and positive! This is another wonderful place that will be difficult to leave! Sorry for the lack of updating the blog. We have tons of wonderful photos for the web once the Internet is cheap enough for us to afford! We will be better about writing and be well out there! Question establishment! John Rand
2004-09-18T12:35:38Z2004-06-22T22:32:18-08:00tag:www.photosntravels.com,2004:/mt/heatherblog/2.222004-06-23T06:32:18Z June 22, 2004: Ehhh, wow. The booby has landed! We got in on the 19th just before midnight, a total trip of 21 days and 8 hours. We are still wide-eyed and dumbfounded, weeks at sea already melting away...heatherhtinsman@yahoo.com
June 22, 2004: Ehhh, wow. The booby has landed! We got in on the 19th just before midnight, a total trip of 21 days and 8 hours. We are still wide-eyed and dumbfounded, weeks at sea already melting away to a distant memory. That last day felt like Christmas as I kept anxiously scanning the horizon for land ready to bellow "land ho!" We could see the heavy cloud bank over the island for most of the day but it wasn't until we were 30 miles away that we caught a glimpse of land. After 3 weeks of mindlessly following the numbers on our GPS across miles and miles of oceanic abyss, we were going to make landfall! As we got closer throughout the day, the island looked more and more like the back of some beast born of volcanic rock bursting out of the sea and reaching for the heavens. We unfortunately didn't make landfall before nightfall, but we could smell the damp earth mixed with honeysuckles as we came in. Ahhhh. It is pretty magical to wake up the next day in paradise after coming in after dark. We had no problem anchoring, which is always a plus. Nothing like a safe passage ending in a shipwreck on shore! Like long lost friends, our friends on Wind Rose and Waterdragon safely guided us in, picked us up within moments of dropping the hook and brought us over to Wind Rose for homemade pizza and cold beer. Thank you, lawd. We anchored amongst abstract shadows of rock cliffs and woke up to towering black pillars of volcanic rock glowing with green. GREEN. Unreal. We are flanked by cliffs on 3 sides, some rising to heights of 3000 feet. The bay was renamed Baie des Vierges, Bay of Virgins, after some outraged missionaries hastened to add an "i" to Baie des Verges, Bay of Penises, because of the phallic protuberances studded around the bay. Heehee. We beelined it immediately through the small town of Hanavave, about 200 people, to the 200 foot waterfall about an hour from town. We were accompanied by about half of the town's kids. Being Sunday, they had the day off, although I get the feeling that there is a lot of free time here. Sure enough, some steep climbing through dense tropical forest along moss-covered rocks led us to a waterfall with an idyllic swimming hole. Along the way were ancient drawings graffitied into the rocks attesting to a civilization older than French Catholic missionaries and television. In the pool was a 3 foot long lung fish. A very old fish, perhaps the link between amphibians and fish. A bit daunting to be swimming with a creature like that. But no one crushed their skulls jumping off the 20-40-60 foot rocks into the pool and no one got eaten by the monstrously large lung fish, so it was a good day!
There are about 15+ boats in this little bay. French, American, British, German and Italian, most of them making their first landfall after weeks of ocean. The locals cruise around in outriggers, long thin canoe-like boats with an outrigger attached to the side for stability. The town is gearing up for the big festivities on Bastille Day, July 14th. Its not necessarily to pay homage to the French, which there seems to be some resentment of by the Marquesans, but more just to party, bar-b-q some goat, hold dance contests and boat races. We heard them practising last night, drumming and singing. The town is muy tranquillo. Modest little houses shaded by tropical flowers and exotic fruit trees. The town survives off art and copra, dried coconut meat used in everything from make-up to soaps and just about every other household product that we see in the States, so there are all these sheds with coconut insides scattered on the floor to dry. Its frustrating not to be able to speak the language. My crash course in recalling the French I learning in high school and college was just that, a train wreck. But I speak the international language of charades and sand drawings well enough and some how get a point across. Probably not the right one though. When all else fails, I just speak Spanish, and they pretend to understand. Didn't realize how good by Spanish had gotten. Their first language is Marquesan which is pretty cool to hear. Lots of artists in this little town--tattoos, wood carvings, tapa cloth, which is a dying Marquesan art form usually done by women. Yesterday, I cruised around and met some boys walking down the street with some roosters, so of course, had to follow them up the hill to a house with about 10 more roosters in the yard. I guess they are all for cockfighting and watched some mean ol' chickens go to town on one another. Then I ran into my friends on Wind Rose as I was talking to the second chief of the village who does beautiful tattoos and bone jewelry and followed them to another house where they were trading a roll of film and a pair of sunglasses for a carved rosewood mask. For some reason the carver gave me one too even though I was just along for the ride and so today I will return to his house with some gifts of nail polish and earrings for his wife and a knife for him. We can also get bananas and pompomousse, like giant grapefruit, for some fishing line and hooks. I like the idea of trading my junk for someone else's junk. And everyone is happy. I have detected some resentment, not much, but a little from a couple of folks in town. Apparently, they don't like the idea of having to open themselves up all the time to people who will be gone in a week. Wish we could stay here for months! But for the most part, people have been very warm. The big kids are back from school, so the town is filled with lots of noise and laughter. Grades 7 and up have to go to the larger island of Hiva Oa because there are no school facilities here for the big kids. So roosters beware!
I'll be writing periodically, but not as often as I have been, so check the website out from time to time. Much peace.
And so the adventure continues!
2004-09-18T12:35:38Z2004-06-19T04:54:16-08:00tag:www.photosntravels.com,2004:/mt/heatherblog/2.212004-06-19T12:54:16Z June 18, 2004: Not much news to report from the high seas, only that as I type this we are 128 miles away from our first anchorage in the Marquesas, Fatu Hiva! Perhaps that's some of the most exciting...heatherhtinsman@yahoo.com
June 18, 2004: Not much news to report from the high seas, only that as I type this we are 128 miles away from our first anchorage in the Marquesas, Fatu Hiva! Perhaps that's some of the most exciting news of this entire trip. But no news is good news on a small boat bouncing around in the middle of the ocean. I may be able to wake up tomorrow and stand bare breasted upon the bow as I yell, "land ho!" (Note: In the days older than these, women were bad luck on boats, that is, unless they were bare breasted upon the bow. And red heads, well, forget about it. Silly, silly boys.) The tall peaks of the islands can be sighted 80 miles away. We are fighting boredom, ear infections, shaggy haircuts, so we are definitely in need of a change of scenery. The table fare has been less than inspiring these past two days. Hard to cook when 75% of your living space, including the galley, is taken up by a sail. So yesterday was cereal, some strange tuna-grated carrot-sweet pickle concoction, and ramen. Bleak days indeed for Dancyn's galley. And no fresh fish. At least I finally soaked some beans last night, so we had tasty bowls of red beans and rice today. We already have the champagne chilling for when we snag some dirt to hang on to. There was a special at the Price Club in Panama City, two bottles and two flutes. Of course, every sailboat needs a pair of champagne flutes. I'm thinking of a potato-pumpkin gnocci for our celebratory meal. It will be nice to finally sleep together after 22 days of sleeping in shifts, and we can finally open the hatch that we siliconed shut to combat the persistent leaks on our bunk. To smell the earth again! To air out and lick some dirt! Waterfalls and old stone tiki statues hidden in the brush. There is a 200 foot waterfall an hour or two from town. Wow, all that fresh water just pouring down the gullet of the island. I have been listening to some French cds in hopes that my long forgotten lessons will come back to me. Otherwise its hand signals and stick figures in the sand. Back to basics. We are humping it to make it by nightfall tomorrow, but with adverse currents, light winds, sloshy seas, we may end up anchoring at night much to the dislike of a sailor's good sense. We have a heads up though from another boat ahead of us, and it seems rather straight forward. Green isles in an endless sea of blue. Glad there are still some mysteries left that can be reached by hard work and persistence. You can thank us for doing our part to spread good will and friendly American diplomacy to the far reaches of the globe. Lush tropical islands, mai-tais, flowery loin cloths, its tough living!
Please, people, peace.
2004-09-18T12:35:38Z2004-06-17T23:28:03-08:00tag:www.photosntravels.com,2004:/mt/heatherblog/2.202004-06-18T07:28:03Z June 16-17, 2004: Days quickly melting into one another as the Cruise-heimers settles in. Hard to keep up with the details, they seem to get lost in our wake, well, that and really not a whole hell of a...heatherhtinsman@yahoo.com
June 16-17, 2004: Days quickly melting into one another as the Cruise-heimers settles in. Hard to keep up with the details, they seem to get lost in our wake, well, that and really not a whole hell of a lot going on out here. Another calm, sunny day. Flew HARRY. I love the red-orange-yellow shadow that it casts over the boat. Drying fish, eating fish chowda' (hard to say if the bouillabaise or the chowder was better). Found maggots in the potatoes. Yummy. Spread out onto the deck again and relaxed, read, even had a mid-morning rum drink--hey, its gotta be afternoon somewhere. We are still on Galapagos time, but the sun is really 3-4 hours behind. But Neptune wasn't going to give us too many free days without a little more bleeding. The wind has continued to blow up our behinds so we have been flying the spinnaker during the day, taking it down at night and going wing and wing--headsail poled opened to one side, mainsail let out on the other side. Like a penguin trying to fly. We can get going but waddle a bit. During my watch, I heard a nasty sound as we rolled and the sails flogged, sure enough, we had ripped another panel in the mainsail. Again on the seam, but longer this time. We got it down without further damage, and immediately got out the needle and thread. Arg! John sewed all through his watch til the sun came up, then I took over and continued to sew all day. Finally got the f*%#er up around 9 p.m. Our sewing machine will only do straight stitch, so we have to hand sew all the booboos. No joy. And only 300 miles left and counting. Luckily we were still able to maintain 5-6 knots under headsail alone. Down to under 250 as I write this. Wired and tired.
2004-09-18T12:35:38Z2004-06-17T23:27:03-08:00tag:www.photosntravels.com,2004:/mt/heatherblog/2.192004-06-18T07:27:03Z June 15, 2004: Today was an exceptional day, one of those days that reminds us of why we subject ourselves to the mercy of the howling winds and rolling waves. Although when I was woken up in the middle...heatherhtinsman@yahoo.com
June 15, 2004: Today was an exceptional day, one of those days that reminds us of why we subject ourselves to the mercy of the howling winds and rolling waves. Although when I was woken up in the middle of my sleep shift because John screamed "Fire!", I thought none the better. Come to find out, it was the other "F" word. John had tangled up the main halyard and couldn't get a flashlight to work and so the frustration level soared. Pretty easy to push that frustration level out here, tired from days of hard sailing and lumpy seas, tired of living uncomfortable in a small boat and tired from carrying the responsibility of maintaining this vessel in a harsh marine environment. Glad to know that I sprung to life out of a deep sleep though. But Neptune smiled down on us as the day broke and gave us a break. The day was clear, sunny and calm. We never did see those trades reinforced that the forecasting wizards predicted, in fact, today was our calmest day yet. And wouldn't you know, we even got to shake out all of our reefs; its probably been at least 10 days since the entire mainsail was opened. We threw up HARRY,our bright spinnaker and coasted through the day, a dot of red, orange, and yellow amidst an ocean of blue. And its soooo blue, too. Not much breath blown across the water, but we were able to etch out something with HARRY. Sometimes its the little things that can make such a difference. I made a kick ass, if I do say so myself, batch of bouillabaisse, french fish soup. It complimented the fresh bread that I also made rather nicely. I was feeling a little bleak about the food situation. Nothing inspiring to eat, so that lifted some spirits. I have a bit of a food obsession and so every season, I buy myself a cookbook with pictures so I can drool over the pictures as I eat my saltines. Sometimes, I can even make something that resembles the picture. I love cooking, but the two-burner wonder galley with limited supplies from limited latin american markets can be tricky. The best part of my day came after I was done sweating it out down below and I took a fresh water shower. Come to find out, we have an ample supply of freshwater on board. Guess the bright side of feeling ill a lot of the time is that the water supply is sure to last. Ahh, yes, life aboard. (We're also just saving up for when we can take ridiculously long showers back in the land of pressurized hot water without feeling guilty.) A moment if I may about fresh water showers. We have learned to be like the elven folk when it comes to scoping out a shower. In Panama, there was a T.G.I.Fridays (of all things) down the road from the anchorage. It just so happened to be attached to a hotel which just so happened to have a pool outside and some showers inside with hot, very hot, water. We would often sneak into the women's bathroom together to take showers. This seemed to piss off the lady cleaning the joint some, so I'm sure it was only a matter of time before we exhausted that resource. Beachside resorts are also prime targets, although usually lacking in the hot water. Scoring a place with a hot tub is like landing in heaven for a day. And then there is always the avenue of befriending locals and using their showers. But today has been the cleanest I have felt in over 2 weeks. John pretends he doesn't mind the salt showers, but I know he's just being a tough guy. We spent the late afternoon lounging on deck, the first time we have been able to spill out onto the deck since we left. We spread the cockpit cushions in various spots in the shade, relaxed and read. Its the simple stuff sometimes. Tonight's sky is fantastic. The stars are noticeably higher in the sky as we move south. The southern cross hangs reverently above and Scorpio, my favorite, curls its tail around the heavens. I don't think Scorpio is visible in most of the U.S., maybe the tip of Florida, but its a huge constellation. The milky way splashes across the sky like spilt milk. Apparently there is a very unseasonable tropical depression forming down near Pitcairn Island. We'll have to check on its status tomorrow. It will either bring some strong winds from the south which might make it tricky to point west, or it may suck the wind towards it, leaving us out here to bounce around in windless seas. We slowed down considerably today, but should be in by the weekend.
2004-09-18T12:35:38Z2004-06-15T03:36:32-08:00tag:www.photosntravels.com,2004:/mt/heatherblog/2.182004-06-15T11:36:32Z June 14, 2004: The miles tick down quickly. Hard to imagine there are some fairy green isles just beyond the horizon. Less than 700 miles to go. I could see them if only I was tall enough to look...heatherhtinsman@yahoo.com
June 14, 2004: The miles tick down quickly. Hard to imagine there are some fairy green isles just beyond the horizon. Less than 700 miles to go. I could see them if only I was tall enough to look that far. We saw a frigate bird way up up up in the sky today. They are easy to spot, like witches on the wing. Evidence that land is nearby. Strange that a land-based bird would be so far out to sea. They are master flyers, swooping down on sea snacks and plucking them ever so effortlessly with their beaks without getting wet. If they get wet they won't be able to get back up again to fly. Guess he fell asleep at the wheel or something and rode the wind out to sea. Won't she be in for a surprise when she wakes up. We caught another monster skipjack tuna. A very tasty fish I might add. We ate it raw with some plain rice while enjoying the soft pink sky of the setting sun. WASABI! We bought like a one kilogram bag of it in Costa Rica so we gotta wasabi it up when we can. The wind has not picked up like we thought and has shifted around to the east, which means its blows up our tailpipe more than across our sails. Looks like it might be a downwind run to get there, one of the slower points of sail for a boat, hence the big sail area of spinnakers. Hopefully we'll get to fly HARRY again. We could use some color out here.
We are shooting to make landfall in one of the southern islands, possibly Fatu Hiva, the southernmost island. I guess Fatu Hiva is the real gem. It lacks an airstrip so is the most traditional of all the islands. They still make the tapa cloth, some sort of fine wood tapastry with designs painted on it. Trading for such goods, like fruit and wooden carved tikis, will be the norm, as it will be throughout most of the Marquesas. Guess money is no good when a)there's nothing to spend it on, or b)things are just too darn expensive. I guess fruit abounds on the islands, but we have been advised never to pick fruit without asking first. Every bit of fruit, tree and land is owned by somebody, even if the fruit has already fallen to the dirt. We hear that they can get pretty aggressive with the bartering. We have plenty of fish hooks, line, little toy matchbox cars, and cheap make-up (which we heard were the biggest trade item hits, and the cheaper the better). Glad to know that we'll be helping the sisters out by bringing them some much appreciated style. We even have a trash can full of plastic--just in case those natives aren't up to speed with the modern world. If only we had some plastic coke bottles, it could be a newer version of "the gods must be crazy." I'm only joking about the plastic, of course they have it, the whole world has it! Ahh yes, better living through chemicals. The cruising season for us is the trading season for them. Thor Heyerdahl, the author of "Kon Tiki," wrote a book called "Fatu Hiva." It was his first book in which him and his wife fled Norway in their 20's for the "natural world of the Pacific island paradise." The back of the book reads "recapturing both the lush beauty and the excitement of such unexpected dangers as hostile natives, capsized boats, broken taboos, and poisonous and disease-carrying insects, its the story of a man and a woman learning to survive in an Eden full of hidden thorns." Yikes. That's not what the cruising guides say. Although they do mention that the bugs in certain places will be merciless. I guess they had upset some folks and had to spend their last weeks hiding out in a cave waiting for a ship to come. All the pictures show them swimming in the sacred taboo lake, or climbing the taboo tree, or exploring taboo ground, so no wonder they pissed off some people. We'll certainly try and be less intrusive and only run around on the taboo ground when they aren't looking. It will be very interesting to peek in on these remote communities with very little contact from the rest of the world save through the small band of cruisers, the odd tourist and the ever-watched television. I read today that little statues of the Eiffel Tower or the Statue of Liberty are very sought after trade items. Guess someone has to worship the monoliths because we certainly don't. I guess that's how a lot of the world interacts with one another. Some folks back home only knew of the Marquesas through the Survivor show. At least, I had never heard of it so it still evoked some mystery when I did first learn about the Marquesas. I heard that they gassed the place to kill all the bugs first and cut down a lot of trees just to film it. Some survivors. May we fare better with the natives and bugs.
2004-09-18T12:35:38Z2004-06-14T00:29:44-08:00tag:www.photosntravels.com,2004:/mt/heatherblog/2.172004-06-14T08:29:44Z June 12-13: We have reached the 3-digit mark on the GPS and less than a thousand miles to go. Starting to get that itch in our pants, but that might just be salt crust. Amazing how the sea blurs...heatherhtinsman@yahoo.com
June 12-13: We have reached the 3-digit mark on the GPS and less than a thousand miles to go. Starting to get that itch in our pants, but that might just be salt crust. Amazing how the sea blurs the days together. We had a fish bite the cedar plug, merely a piece of cedar wood but it gets 'em every time, especially the mahi-mahi, silly fish. It peeled off so much line that the reel was warm to the touch. John and the fish muscled with one another until the fish got off. It got close enough to the surface that John thought it was a yellowfin tuna, but whatever it was, it was probably too big for us. The weather has stayed relatively calm. Supposedly, the trades will be building and clocking around more to the south-southeast so we are making our southing now before we get caught having to beat into sloppy seas to get down to the islands. Not too much excitement going on right now. vegas. We watched Young Frankenstein and I watched for shooting stars while jamming out to some bluegrass and dreaming about beach dance parties with everyone dressed as pirates. That's about it for entertainment on Dancyn. We are getting plenty of reports of waterfalls and tall lush peaks from boats who have already made touchdown. I made some bread in the pressure cooker. Not bad actually. Probably getting a lifetime's dose of aluminum from it but I expect the sea to get me before the Alzheimers does. We live by our pressure cooker. Beans beans and more beans. It reduces the cooking time to a matter of minutes. And I've only fallen asleep with it on twice (not on this trip though)--wonder I haven't blown up the boat yet. I've made some pretty tasty banana bread with all the ugly shriveled bananas hanging in our cockpit like old men's droopy fruits. Surprising wonders with the pressure cooker. We use propane to cook with and only keep one 20-pound canister that's out in the cockpit. We haven't run out of gas yet in our travels, but we are careful with it nonetheless. It would be saltines, dried fish and peanut butter til we could get more. A canister lasts us at least 2 months. We have a propane grill outside as well and small canisters for camping that we could use in an emergency. I'm struggling to hold my eyes open so must be time to wake John up.
2004-09-18T12:35:38Z2004-06-12T01:06:51-08:00tag:www.photosntravels.com,2004:/mt/heatherblog/2.162004-06-12T09:06:51Z June 10th and 11th: Life continues to glide on by here on Dancyn. Blazing a trail across. Almost down to the last third of the trip and at this rate we could have a 21-22 day crossing. The weather...heatherhtinsman@yahoo.com
June 10th and 11th: Life continues to glide on by here on Dancyn. Blazing a trail across. Almost down to the last third of the trip and at this rate we could have a 21-22 day crossing. The weather has quieted down, and we are finally figuring out how best to fly this old bird. The seas are still confused and jerky, although I guess we are pretty much used to it, but the wind is come down. Cooking is most certainly a challenge. I do most of the cooking, John in turn, deals exclusively with our honey pot--where all the magic goes! I'm in charge of putting the food in, and he's in charge of taking out the gar-bage, so to speak. Have I mentioned the honey pot before? Perhaps I should enlighten. Most boats have a bona fide toilet and can be flushed by pumping a handle. Its supposed to go to a holding tank, although don't be fooled, many cruisers who have left the civilized world of marinas and city anchorages behind don't bother with that step and just pump directly overboard. Careful swimming around other boats for fear of unwanted encounters of the doodoo kind-especially the French boats some would say. Its nice not being the most loathed country out here; French cruisers have bad reputations. "Most boats outfit their boats to go cruising, the French go cruising to outfit their boats." Or so the saying goes. Although our only interaction with them has been fine. One boat even showed up with a bottle of Martineque rum for our help in moving his boat. But the potty situation on Dancyn is slightly different. We have a pack-a-potti with something like a 5-gallon capacity. So when the magic bowl is full, we pack it out and dump it overboard so that we may add our stew to the offshore life. It gets tricky if we are anchored somewhere and its in need of some dumpin'. Many a time, John has gone out fishing, only to return with an empty head. But we are good to dump it away from the anchorage, on an outgoing tide if we can. I have basically been absolved from ever having to deal with it. While in Zihuatanejo, Mexico, I had to run offshore in the dingy for an emergency dumping because we had both come down with bad rear, but since John was the worst of us both I volunteered to empty our rather full pot. He was laid up with 104 fever for several days, while I only had 102 and recovered after 2 days. Because of my saintly deed, I haven't had to touch it since.
Obviously things are going along okay out here if I'm carrying on about Dancyn's movements. We caught a mahi-mahi yesterday and today. Small fellows, but tasty tasty and perfect enough for dinner for two and then some. A little seasoning, tossed onto the grilled, cooked so that it's still slighty rosy and juicy. We had some radio issues and had to resolder the PL-259 coax connector coming out of the T-4 line isolator and into the AH-4 Icom automatic tuner. Uhhh, yeah. Not the easiest job with our dollar store solder iron though. John was pretty bleary-eyed figuring it out. We had such a strong signal afterwards we contacted the ol' ham fellers up in the states via the Maritime Mobile Service Net that runs almost 24 hours. Basically, some dudes operating some snazzy rigs from their homes as a service any maritime traffic--that's us. I got my amateur radio license last time I was in the states, so at least I got that going for me. This net will take any traffic from just about anywhere, to crazy hamheads driving around in their vans with mobile radios to people out in the middle of the pacific. Great resource actually. Should we be in need of anything, broken engine, broken bone, they will try and help us out or at least keep us company while we contend with the forces of nature that work to kill us. We also phone patched to John's family today. Pretty damn cool. The radio is also how we do email, a free service for licensed hamhocks. A dip in the kitty, but the $1700 was worth it. We heard a man checking in that is single-handing his way across the Atlantic. He has gotten beat up in 60 knot winds, has had some engine failure and has crushed his hand--new meaning to single handing, har, har. Someone phone patched him to his wife. He'll be in Barbados by daybreak. Amazing stuff. Probably one of our best chances of survival should something go critically wrong.
2004-09-18T12:35:38Z2004-06-10T15:37:06-08:00tag:www.photosntravels.com,2004:/mt/heatherblog/2.152004-06-10T23:37:06Z Half way song, June 9, 2004: We are over half way! Downhill from here. We are finally getting the boat dialed out. Flying the right amount of sail that is comfortable yet still maintaining crotch rocket speed. Fellow cruisers...heatherhtinsman@yahoo.com
Half way song, June 9, 2004: We are over half way! Downhill from here. We are finally getting the boat dialed out. Flying the right amount of sail that is comfortable yet still maintaining crotch rocket speed. Fellow cruisers also making the big hop with single-side band capabilities have been meeting twice a day on a set frequency. Such a radio net allows us to keep up with one another, offer assistance when needed, and give local weather conditions. This last one is most helpful. We were on the tail end of the migration, so a lot of boats have already made landfall. We heard from a couple daring ones who headed further south to Pitcairn, the famous inbreeding hole of the Bounty mutineers, and the Gambiers, on the tail end of the Tuamoto island group that until recently was still subjected to French nuclear testing on nearby islands. Pitcairn is tough because there are not any fair anchorages that aren't subject to winds that can suddenly put a boat on a lee shore. Needless to say, the people still living there appreciate any visitors-and genes for that matter. These islands lie pretty far south, so it can be a bit of beat to get there. Everyone has to sing a half way song. So here is ours. It is Dancyn's first (and possibly only) country love sea shanty.
Closer to You
We're sailing across the ocean blue, we're sitting here naked, we got nothing else to do,
We're sailing across the ocean blue, half way to nowhere but closer to you
John Rand he bought a sports car, he hoped to sail the oceans,
He met himself a redhead, convinced her of these notions,
We pushed her to the limit to help her get us there,
On the second day from port, the spinnaker did tear,
He thought 32 feet big enough, she was light and she flew
But now we know for certain, she just wants to make us puke
We're sailing across the ocean blue, we're sitting here naked, we got nothing else to do,
We're sailing across the ocean blue, half way to nowhere but closer to you
Each day we find a new leak that slowly fills our bunk,
We yearn for sun and calm seas to rid us of such funk,
We always troll our lines in hopes we get a bite
But the tasty little vermin eat our lures out of spite,
And should we get a' lonesome, we got Whatever and Waterdragon
They're close enough for talking 'bout politics and constipation
We're sailing across the ocean blue, we're sitting here naked, we got nothing else to do,
We're sailing across the ocean blue, half way to nowhere but closer to you
Last email from my mama said the tax man was not pleased
But he can keep on shuffling his papers, he'll get nothing out of me
When we hit those distant shore, we'll be down to our last dime
But we have every intention of spending it on overpriced french wine
Or maybe we'll just keep keepin' on to that place beyond the sea
We've got plenty of love to go around and at least the wind is free
We're sailing across the ocean blue, we're sitting here naked, we got nothing else to do,
We're sailing across the ocean blue, half way to nowhere but closer to you
Yahoo--Obviously got a little time on our hands out here. It sho' does beat a desk job.
2004-09-18T12:35:38Z2004-06-10T15:34:30-08:00tag:www.photosntravels.com,2004:/mt/heatherblog/2.142004-06-10T23:34:30Z Dancyn's Pacific Crossing Stradegies by John Rand: DANCYN's PAC Xing STRATAGIES At first we felt we would just go Southwest until we saw palm trees! It turns out to be a bit more complicated. The first obstacle is leaving...heatherhtinsman@yahoo.com
Dancyn's Pacific Crossing Stradegies by John Rand:
DANCYN's PAC Xing STRATAGIES
At first we felt we would just go Southwest until we saw palm trees! It turns out to be a bit more complicated. The first obstacle is leaving the Galapagos which sits just below the equator, a windless band around the planet. You all know what a champ our Universal Atomic Four gasoline engine is but the possibility of a 5 to 8 hundred-mile steam along the rhumb line until the wind filled in around 3 or 4 degrees south was daunting and unpractical. These sought after winds are the trade winds running across the pacific. SOOOO! After picking up a few extra jerry cans at the hardware store, we stormed off in the back of a pickup truck through the heat of the lava fields to the gas station on Isla Isabella. Fuel in the Galaopagos is $1.02 a gallon as compared to $4 in French Polynesia. Stocked up and back on board DANCYN we filled the cockpit with gas cans! Our plan was to slowly motor southward to get to the wind as soon as possible. This would add miles to the trip but would limit the potential "week" of drifting around until far enough south to move along on the trade-wind highway. This sounded simple and so we motored out of Puerto Villamil south bound. The wind was a bit east of south and very light so we put the biggest headsail up and kept the wind slightly forward of beam, our fastest point of sail in the soft stuff. The wind shifted around in all directions but we motored when we could not sail. After six hours we killed the motor feeling we were pushing our luck and asking a bit much from the A4. We drifted that night for a few hours until the sound of the Air X wind generator woke me up. Err, I mean made me aware of the wind direction; ahh, yes that's it. It had picked up enough that on a close reach the apparent wind was enough to get us tugging along at 5 knots. It was an unexpected surprise but we sailed south to 3 degrees south where the trades had filled in prematurely. What great luck!
With the first obstacle over come we went in search of the best wind for DANCYN and crew! She likes a bit more than we do. The pacific is nice in that there is a distinct gradient to the force and direction of the wind. From East to West she shifts from SE to E winds. From North to South there is a pronounced band of stronger winds and current. Finding the "SWEET SPOT" is the trick. Down South around 9 degrees the wind can be a steady 25 knots, close to gale if it pipes up in the afternoon or around midnight. Around 3 degrees, we had 8 to10 knots but it was SE so we could quickly beam reach SW looking for the groove. There is also a current gradient with the strongest band being 1.5 knots between 5 and 7 degrees. That is a free 36 miles a day! Early on day three or so we heard of gales down South. With those lurking around we were timid about the wind but really wanted those free miles. All you mass consumers can understand the quest for free miles! We pushed south of the rhumb line, the straight line between the Galapagos and Marquesas.
With that understood we needed to beat the second obstacle, THE DREADED POTOTO PATCH. This is a zone where the currents bend. Water screams east bound around Antarctica at 40 to 50 degrees South and is uninhibited by any landmasses. Some of this dense cold nutrient-rich water peels off around Tierra Del Fuego and becomes the Humboldt current. It is wicked fast and runs north dominating the western South American coast then peels out toward the Galapagos where it meets the southbound Panama Current. These two go head to head but the big one wins, although the winner, the Humboldt Current, loses some of its coldness and heads more west. The spin of the planet helps too! This zone lays on the rhumbline to Polynesia and can make for a ridiculously uncomfortable ride in light wind sailing. Needless to say it is hard to make it past there without some bruising! DANCYN's light air performance is good enough that we could cheat to the north and avoid most of the mess.
Relieved to be beyond the light air and the mess, we started the hunt for the steady trade winds. Things were great around 4 degrees. The angle was more south than east and a fast beam reach was maintained but we were still in search of the current. Twice a day, we met with fellow cruisers also crossing the pacific on the single-side band radio and from their observations, we noticed that 6 degrees was the first that folks stated to encounter the free slide west. We had recently crossed latitude 5 South and noticed a difference between the knot meter, which gives speed through the water, and the speed over ground on the GPS. One free mile every hour feels mighty good and there is no annual fee!
With 15 knots from the ESE we have settled into the rhumbline groove and click away the longitudes as we scream west! Aside from small squalls and uneven seas, all is well and we will maintain the rhumbline until we get more wind than we can be comfortable with upon which we'll back off from the wind, steady the ride, and point more west than southwest. The wind slacks off close to the last quarter of the trip, so we want to be north enough to cut across the Easterly winds. This will give us more lift in the sails and will keep the ball rolling so that we can avoid 3 days of drifting within sight of the lush waterfall-filled volcanic peaks!
We have settled into the Westing groove along the latitude 6th degree south line. Below us the wind is stronger with more frequent squalls. Today we are surfing along and hope to break our trip record for miles per day. I had the main down for an hour and a half stitching a batten pocket and small tear but we have made up for that by now. We need 250 miles of Southing but 1600 miles of Westing! With 270 dialed in on the compass and the breakers dead astern, we slide our way to COCKTAILS and COCONUTS!
We are making around 150 miles a day and have put the 1000-mile mark behind us in the first week. We are traveling within VHF radio contact of fellow cruisers, THE WHATEVER and WATERDRAGON. We have chatted a good bit and enjoy the distraction. Three very different boats with different limits and spped yet we all came within sight of each other after leaving Puerto Villamil, Galapagos, on the same day over a week ago! We gave THE WHATEVER a pirate flyby, mustaches, bandanas, and deadly spatulas in hand! For the costumes, we were rewarded with giggles and Ice Cream!….and so the adventure continues.
2004-09-18T12:35:38Z2004-06-10T15:29:22-08:00tag:www.photosntravels.com,2004:/mt/heatherblog/2.132004-06-10T23:29:22Z June 8, 2004: We had to perform our first major at-sea sail repair after one of the top panels of the mainsail ripped. Better than an at-sea emergency dental extraction. Luckily, it was along the seams but it did...heatherhtinsman@yahoo.com
June 8, 2004: We had to perform our first major at-sea sail repair after one of the top panels of the mainsail ripped. Better than an at-sea emergency dental extraction. Luckily, it was along the seams but it did go clear across the sail, about 4-5 feet. It could have been worse. The weather wasn't up too much so we decided to leave the headsail poled out--we attach the end of the spinnaker pole to the sheet of the head sail so that it holds the sail open. Very handy for when we are running far off the wind, or close to dead down wind. The mainsail shadows the headsail so that it wants to collapse but the pole keeps it open. We took off the mainsail, filled the salon with our impaired sail and got out the needle and twine. It took us 2 movies and a better part of the day to finish. It was getting dark so we decided to put the sail up the next day to give us more time to find any more boo boos. Mistake! The wind came up, probably close to gale force, 35 knots, and we were stuck with a poled out headsail that was oversized given the conditions. The seas started to stand up, a couple actually coming over the stern-a first. We wanted to get the pole down so that we could reduce headsail, but in order to do that, we have to douse the headsail completely. Since we had no mainsail, we didn't want to be completely without sail for the fear of turning beam to the seas and toppling over. Perhaps the most hair-raising sailing we have done so far. We were sailing close to a steady 10 knots, more like running out of control at 10 knots. Our biggest fear was losing the headsail or worse, breaking the wire that holds the headsail up. I took the tiller and John finally was able to bring in a little bit of headsail, despite the pole. This immediately stabilized things. We had put off doing this for fear of ripping a reefed headsail. Because we have roller furling for our headsail there are only a couple of sweet spots as we roll it up where its doesn't bunch up too much, thus it can take the strain of being under load. Yikes! I'll be honest, I had gotten a couple of "safety devices" ready. I'm trying to say mildly, we were a bit terrified, so I was gathering up the spare VHF, flares and GPS. What do we know. She is a tough broad, but our biggest lesson has been trying to find her sweet spots where we aren't overstressing the rig too much. Its so easy to go fast in this speed machine, actually any machine in 20+ knots, but we have to learn to temper things so we don't break anything. These long passages can be murder on a sailboat. Not to mention our nerves. The morning brought some relief. Some big lessons being learned. We are obviously in Neptune's good graces. Btw, the creaking in the mast is the mainsail halyard and is no big deal. We are so in tuned so all her moans and groans. Gotta be since we are literally out in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. NUTS AND GUTS!!!!