Category: Boats

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Stopping over in Tahuata, French Polynesia

Tahuata was going to be a quick, overnight anchorage on the way from Fatu Hiva to Ua Pou (all still in the Marquesa group of French Polynesia).  Hardly worth noticing, probably about a sentence or two in the next blog post.  We pulled into the first anchorage and set down for the night not expecting the quiet little island a stone’s throw from Hiva Oa to have much for us in the way of lasting memories.

…and then we woke up early the next morning to go swimming with the wild dolphins who had just popped by to say hi and handle some business.

That little comment by Tiffany at the end make you feel a bit voyeuristic?  Imagine being 15 feet from them and watching.  I was serious about them handling some business.

Now I apologize.  Dolphins are faster and more maneuverable than me in the water and I’m still getting used to the whole “filming rapidly moving objects in the water while bobbing like a cork on the surface and unable to see my display screen because it’s in a waterproof bag” thing.  I will endeavor to improve.  Please bear with me.

So after what was agreed on by all to be a most auspicious start to our day we thought it could not possibly get any better, but you’d think after our first shocker we’d stop underestimating this little island of nirvana-like joy.

We sallied forth onto land and found the picture perfect village of Hapatoni.  The whole island’s population is around 650 and this is the tiny village next to the big town, so I do mean small.

You may have noticed during that video that there was a streetlight above the street Tiffany and I were on.  This may lead you to the question, “Gosh Greg, how do they have power out there?”   Tiffany and I were curious so we took a look around and found the island (or at least the village’s) main and only power plant.

We also saw a really nice little local church.  Did I mention that French Polynesia is by overwhelming majority Catholic? They have a couple of assorted Protestant churches and, interestingly enough, one island that is predominantly Mormon.  Ha ha!  Yes, I learned French, I play the ukulele and I’m Catholic.  I’m almost a local!

–          Greg

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Hiva Oa, French Polynesia

We find ourselves in a very small anchorage within a medium sized island on a ridiculously large ocean.  This place is land of extremes.  To give you some perspective globally, the island of Hiva Oa (which is in French Polynesia) is around 3000 miles west of Mexico and about 2000 miles east of Tahiti…yes, it’s ok, until now I didn’t exactly realize there was anything out here either.  The population of the town of Autona is about 1000 and it’s the largest “city” for about 1000 miles…one of only 3 on this island (total island population is about 1,900…and it’s one of the most populated islands by a long shot)  “remote” does not come close to describing this place.  This video should give you some reference and a neat view of the mountain / volcano we’re right next to.

I don’t think it’s actually active anymore but I haven’t exactly checked either.  After our first day of arrival, we did a little sightseeing.  Ok, well, by “sightseeing” I mean “made the 3 kilometer walk to town a few times” but it counts right?

We also saw the famous outrigger canoes both old and new.

Apparently what was once their primary mode of sea transport has now evolved into their national sport.

A few days later we found that Tiffany and Alison have given up all hope on our fishing prowess and snuck off one morning at 6:00am to commit that most grievous of sins…buying fish. In a desperate bid to “make it up to us” they also bought us some local staples…breadfruit and baguettes.

Now you may think they left that early in the morning because Allan and I were asleep at the time.  That would be true but also because of the way time works here.  You see, in the Marquesas, everyone is awake around 6:00am to about 11:00am, then in what only can be described as a beautiful marriage of French culture (who take long lunches) and Island Time, the whole island effectively shuts down and they all take off work from 11:00am until 2:00pm.  Stores open (if they feel like it) again at (around) 2:00pm until about 4:30pm at which point everyone calls it a day.  Sun sets at about 5:30pm and everyone is basically asleep no later than 9:00pm.  These people lead fairly ideal lives, assuming you aren’t living at the anchorage.  As the ship is anchored 3 kilometers from town, this mid-day sabbatical means that we walk to town in the morning and back again in the afternoon in order to spend a whole day there.

Speaking of the anchorage, nestled there right next to us is irrefutable validation that people who play RPGs can actually be successful in life

…and yes, I paddled over, knocked on their boat and asked them.  They named their boat after the Chocobo, the giant flightless bird you ride around on in the Final Fantasy games, which is awesome!  I should also note they are a married couple (there are other women out there who play games Anna, I got her business card) and have two (two!) PS2 systems onboard and they report that, for anyone who is considering bringing their gaming consoles with them on their boat, the PS2 stands up to the rigors of seagoing life much better than the PS3 and the power drain is less than the power needed to run a TV onboard.  Needless to say I made it a point to become friends with these people.

-Greg

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Land Ho!

 

This video succinctly captures the mood of the moment.

Though we have spent weeks at sea and accomplished something that many dream of, I have to say on some levels I am sad to see this transit end.  Over the past 22 days I really have enjoyed my rituals of personal development (the ukulele, French and Bible) and I know that now we have hit land those rituals will be impossible to maintain in the face of beautiful beaches, amazing island hikes, delightful food and tropical paradise.  Don’t worry, I’ll cope 😉

While everyone else was working at dropping the anchor and launched the dingy, I was tasked to establish friendly relations with the natives who, in classic Polynesian fashion, came out to greet us.

After which we all hopped in the dingy and got our butts to land.

Our first stop?  We’re sailors, where do you think?  Two words: Money & Beer.

Which is a good thing we got money, cuz everything here is nutzo expensive!  To give you an idea, we got in during the morning and went into a burger joint for our first landside meal.  Tiff got a burger, I got a local “cheap” fish snack (poisson cru for you Frenchie speakers) and we each got 1 beer.  $30.00 US later we decided we’d finish celebrating on the boat.  The local beers were eight bucks each in a little snack shack!  Big upside to sailboats: you bring your own hotel with you.

…and yes Daniel, I survived, so no, you don’t get my hot tub or my Xbox 360.

– Greg

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Bedsheet Powered Bathtub

Oh hey ya, we have actually done some actual sailing over the past few weeks.

I’d actually like to take a moment to describe to you our relationship with the sail featured in the last video: the spinnaker, or as I like to accurately call it, the petulant child.  You see, our spinnaker halyard shackle has no difficulty at all holding onto the spinnaker while we set the sail, and I have to say it releases fairly easily as well…it just seems to like to release the spinnaker while we are still flying it, turning our high-speed light wind sail immediately and without warning into a high drag and fairly effective parachute brake.  This would be a great side feature of this shackle…you know, if we had some way to actually control it.  As it stands though, when this happens (typically while Allan is on the stern showering) it leaves us with a sail to pull out from under the boat and a line to pull down from the top of the mast.

(Hey Mom, did I mention I was 1000 miles from the nearest hospital?  Just thought you should know ;-).

Tiffany has gotten so sick of the whole affair that while doing laundry she began testing replacement sails.

Expect patents to be filed once we make landfall.  Needless to say we installed a new shackle.

– Greg

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All that’s missing is a Kracken

Despite our best fishing efforts, pickings continue to be rather slim

 

 

(If you watched that…I apologize.  My only defense is that when you’re this long out to sea some things seem funnier than they are.)

 

We did manage to hook a deepwater fish.  Before parting the strongest line we had onboard, our finned friend hung around long enough to make sure I received an extensive education why I need to keep my big mouth shut when I think about talking smack about a sport I know nothing about.

 

 

What’s on the dinner menu for Greg?  Looks like a double portion of humble pie.

 

To pile on the humiliation, it appears that my role as a B-movie sci-fi horror flick victim was prophetic in nature.  Either that or the booby birds have enlisted the help of their fellow sea creatures.  Either way, the ship’s cockpit is becoming a nightly target for the beasts of the sea.

 

 

In that video I mention the term ITCZ.  This is sailor slang for Inter-Tropical Convergence Zone.  Basically it’s this place where all the horrible weather from the northern hemisphere has gigantoid WWE style thrown downs with all the horrible weather from the southern hemisphere.  If you take Michael Jackson’s music video “beat-it” replace the street thugs with rain squalls and take out the really cool dancing and hit music single, you have a good idea what it’s like.

 

Despite seemingly every creature of the briny deep, with the notable exception of an actual edible fish, deciding to make our ship their vacation home, morale remains high.  Just a few days ago we took solace in the stoic example of Captain James T. Kirk as we conducted another installment of our mandatory ships training regimen.

 

 

Even though we have not seen dry land for weeks, we remain confident God has not flooded you all out of house and home.

 

 

That’s a Bible reference yo.  Noah, from that first book.  Told you I was listening to it.

 

-Greg

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A Day in the Life

Tiff thought we would start out by giving you some perspective on what we see all day, every day. (PS- don’t watch this video if you are prone to seasickness.)

[Tiff thinks this one is better 🙂  It’s kinda long though, I was having editing issues.]

My daily schedule basically looks like:

Noon – wake up, shave, brush teeth

12:30PM – eat lunch, do dishes

1:30PM – personal projects (like sewing zippers in my pants pockets, doing laundry, showering.)

3:00PM – Stand 4 hour watch

7:00PM – Get off watch, eat dinner

8:00PM – Do dishes

8:30PM – wrap up personal projects, putz around

9:00PM – Practice ukulele

9:30PM – Practice French (usually involves me making spitting sounds at my computer)

11:00PM – Pre-watch nap

12:45AM – wake up, stand 3 hour watch.  Listen to Bible on audio book.

2:30AM – midnight snack time!  More Bible on audio

4:00AM – Get off watch, go to bed

Aside from occasional interruptions for critical ships business

…  and pods of dolphins using our bow as a jungle gym

Our days are much the same.  This would drive some people mad, but I love the relentless progress I make daily toward mastering my ninja-like French-Bible-quoting-while-playing-Beethoven-on-ukulele skillz.

But heck, I sleep until noon every day, so they could all be learning kung-fu and naked tribal dancing in the morning for all I know.

– Greg

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Keeping Busy

I want to convey to you our daily life.  Have you ever had a personal montage?  The underway life is a daily existence of extreme ritual, when you allow it to be, and that ritual allows you to focus on whatever you want with unprecedented clarity.  For 30 days of my life I have the opportunity to dramatically increase any skill set I want to study.  I describe it best to my mother when I emailed her:

I am spending my time sewing zippers on clothes and reading the Bible

(I feel like a monk)

…and learning French

(a Franciscan monk)

…and learning the ukulele

(a Franciscan monk with a toy guitar)

…and talking to Tiffany

(a Franciscan monk with a toy guitar and a wife….ok, fine, bad example)

This is my life for the next month…no Gregorian chanting though.

Allan spends his time developing his at sea tech support business …

… and getting an “A” for effort in his many attempts to land “the big one”.

Tiffany and Alison spend most of their personal time focused on the inspection of our cookie stores …

… and the restocking of our cookie stores (a chore in which I am sometimes impressed into service).

– Greg

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The truth about food on boats

We dine like gods out here!

To give you an idea, I offer for your consideration this typical evening “crew ration”

Stuffed peppers, avocado, fresh tomato salad and hand-made garlic bread… All par for the course for our dining experience (trust me, were you here you would not dare to dishonor the glory of our consumption rituals by addressing them as “meals” either).  Any fool who told you that people lose weight on long voyages was either a liar or someone who did not give proper respect to the culinary creation process.  Translation:  they did not have a duty cook, which is one of the major advantages of having more than 2 people on your boat.

In this sailor’s opinion, Allan probably made the best call of his ship captaining career when he took our advice of assigning a duty cook.  He actually did it cunningly well.  We have 2 duty rotations each 12 hours in length: Day watch and night watch.  During night watch, each of us stands a 3 hour and during the day watch, three of us stand a 4 hour shift and the 4th person’s sole responsibility for the day is to make sure the rest of us eat meals that would make Bacchus envious.  Tiffany and Alison typically take this burden on and they have done a fantastic job.   The reason for this is that Allan and I have both stated that Ramen noodles and a can of coke every night sounds like a fun experiment.  Alison agreed with this idea, however her idea of Ramen noodles is a travesty of college gourmet cooking.

Back to the duty cook thing.  The real advantage here is that the cook easily spends 4 hours (the length of a watch) preparing lunch and dinner.  Everyone realizes this, so none of the other watchstanders feel like the cook is shirking duty.  Also, because the cook doesn’t have to worry about a watch during the day, they can spend a lot of time creating excellent meals, despite having to deal with problems straight out of Das Boat:

Also, this way no one gets overworked between standing watches and preparing meals.

The cooks almost got a fresh sushi reprieve when we landed our first fish of the trip until we realized it wasn’t a good “eating” fish (what the heck else are fish good for!?)

– Greg

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Repelling Air Pirates!

Our last communication ended with our loyal crew recovering from a blitzkrieg-style home invasion from the booby birds.

Tiffany, Allan and I quickly devised a counter-strike offensive.  Luckily, between Tiff’s years of nautical experience, Allan’s fighter-jock skills (no, really – F-16s!…these birds seriously picked the wrong boat to mess with…) and my supreme knowledge of the multiple uses of sailing line we routed the enemy and chased him squawking into the night.

With the main thrust of their attacked repelled, their forces routed and in shambles, the enemy made a final, desperate play for a beachhead on our extremely delicate solar panels, which our reserve forces quickly repelled.

Unfortunately they kept coming back, growing so bold as to land on the boat hook as we attempted to poke them with it!  Eventually, with both sides weary from literally hours of intense non-stop action, our side proposed a truce: One bird on the dingy, as long as no one poops.  Of course he defecated easily twice his own body weight onto our small boat and at first light his fellow bombers attempted to join him, so we rejoined the battle this time determined to offer no quarter…

Though we survived the brutal hand-to-halyard combat of that night, our boat still carries the scars of the battle …

… and, as you can see from that video,  we must remain constantly vigilant for skirmisher forces lying in wait to catch us unawares.  For we are alone, cut off from other allied units, hundreds of miles from shore and should our efforts fail, we would be overtaken before help could arrive.  There is no truce, no peace.  That is the lesson the “night of the attack of the boobies” taught us.  A lesson we pass to you, my friends, from the front lines.  Pray for us as we battle on…

– Greg

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Attack of the boobies!

Ladies and gentlemen, today I am here to talk to you about the perils of boobies.  (no, we are not about to talk about pre-marital sex here.  It’s the name of a bird dude.  As in blue-footed boobies (or orange-footed, whatever)).

Don’t let the cuteness fool you.  These little warm weather aviary ambassadors of the devil himself have been with us since our departure.   My friends, as the crewmember with the most seaborne combat experience (hey, I am a trained boarding officer) I have led our valiant efforts to repel these determined air pirates for several days now.  Though our first attempts were admittedly crude and pathetically unsuccessful.

We only suffered a minimum of self-inflicted casualties …

… and have recently upgraded our techniques.   The scales of victory slowly tipped in our direction and our safe voyage appeared assured…until the enemy, under the cover of darkness, marshaled their forces and without warning staged their own personal Tet Offensive…

The enemy struck without warning, on all fronts and we were initially clearly overwhelmed.  Pressing the advantage one of our foes grew so brave as to land in our cockpit and make a dive for the hatch below decks! Allan had to literally tackle this squawking, flapping Captain Jack Sparrow-wanna-be with a rug while Alison pelted them both with a fruit basket (more friendly fire) and cast the beast from our vessel into the murky darkness. (sorry, no video on that one, happened a little too fast.)

The battle rages on…

– Greg

(On another booby note, we ran into someone with a t-shirt that said “I love boobies” and a cartoon of 2 little blue booby feet on it 🙂 – Tiff)

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