Flash back to North Minerva....

It's not often that you can get great photos of you boat in action because- well, usually you are on the boat in the action. So thank you to the crew of Dilligaf for the great Britannia photos!

Ahh doesn't she look good!

Going out the pass- down and...

up again! 

The reef at low-tide. (zoom in to check out the fleet waiting for the weather to change.)

This Place Where We Are

No, it doesn't get much better than this...

Krister and the Piko's lounging pool-side with a few Fiji Bitters- the local beer.

They say when in Rome do as the Romans do. When traveling anywhere it is a good idea  to follow the cultural customs of the place where you are. With that in mind, I want to share a few things to keep in mind next time you're traveling through  Fiji.

Fijians are more reserved and conservative in their dress- no matter how hot and humid it is. For ladies that means covering your shoulders and thighs/knees. For the guys, it means keeping your shirt on, preferable a button down, short sleeve "Bula" shirt. Also no hats or sunglasses around the cheif. It's seen as disrespectful. We're in a more touristy town so they let us slide a bit. But once we're out in the villages, we'll run the risk of offending the locals if we're not dressed appropriately. Also no public displays of affection, touching a Fijian's head is considered an insult as it is a sacred part of the body, take your shoes off when entering a building... and come bearing kava.

The Lauren's from Piko, Bill and Sue from Diligaf and Krister enjoying the ICA rally welcome.

Amanda accepting a welcome basket of local fruits and root vegetables.

We'd heard about this kava stuff when we were in Tonga, but it wasn't until Fiji that we tried it.  We took part in  a sevusevu ceremony as part of the rally and welcome events when we first arrived. We sat crossed legged in a circle. They mixed ground kava root with water. Then they said something in Fijian- like welcome to Fiji and stuff. Then one of the boys delivered a bilo, or cup, to each of us, one at a time. When presented with the kava, you clap once, down the whole cup and clap three more times. It tastes like herbaceous dirt and it numbs your lips with the first bilo. Men start drinking it around age 18, and it can become an all day, all night activity; sitting around talking. Kinda like some of us with our tea or coffee drinking.

Mixing up the pulverized kava root with water in the kava bowl (called a tanoa)

Lauren-girl accepting a bilo of kava during the sevusevu ceremony

It sounds like we're in for much more kava time. For every island and village there is a chief or mayor that you must get permission from before you go tramping about and anchoring in their "backyard." Proper etiquette is to present the village elder with kava root as a gift for sevusevu. If they accept, they will welcome you to the village, offer assistance and invite you to drink and talk with them.  You must accept the first bilo and from what I've heard, stay until the kava bowl is empty. Seems like a great way to get to know the locals and have real cultural experiences.

We'll be on our way soon. The plan is to head east to Taveuni, then hop through a few islands in the Lau group, working our way clock-wise to the Moala group, Kadavu, Lautoka, and finally the Yasawas. That's a lot to do in the next four months- I think we're overly ambitious, but here's to kava and paradise dreaming!

A

Sunset over the fleet in Savusavu 

Cannibals?

So I was checking out Convivia's blog and found pretty crazy story about cannibals.

We were in Nuku Hiva ourselves last year, right where this happened...  wild. We heard rumors about a boat being lost to cannibals last season, and we've heard that less visited parts of Vanuatu still have some semblances of cannibalistic culture, but it's weird to see it actually reported in the news.

Before anyone gets too worried about us, I'd suggest looking for a story about a murder in Oakland, just to put the risks in perspective.

Anyhow...

We're still in Savusavu, waiting for lighter winds.  We heard a boat on the radio this morning say that they tried heading out and had gusts to 36 knots on the nose.  Supposedly conditions should be improving tomorrow, so hopefully we'll be able to finally actually get out and see some of Fiji sooner or later.

A week later...

It'll be a week tomorrow that we've been in Fiji. You think we'd have more to show for it. And we do if you look carefully. Britannia has almost doubled her solar power- we've got juice even on the rainy days! And Krister changed the oil and the impellar for the first time since Mexico. Also got the windlass working- we think. We're on a mooring ball in town now so the real test will have to wait. We've gone to a few rally functions, met a few new cruisers, walked thru town and eaten a lot of Indian curry. So all those projects are done. We're caught up!

So now we relax... Well not exactly as we'd planned. You know how you always get sick on your day off? Same goes when you're a cruiser. I went first with a sore throat, swollen glands and complete exhaustion . I slept almost 3 days straight- which kept me out of the way while Krister did boat projects. He's said he couldn't relax with all those "to-do's" hanging over him. So just when I'm coming back to life, he's out of commission. Low-grade fever, tired with just a whiff of nausea. Hope it passes as quickly as mine did. It's been rainy the past few days, but sunshine is in the forecast.

A

Projects...

We've been in Savusavu for the last few days, and it's been pretty much non-stop work on the boat (I coulda sworn I had the boat 100% ready to go when we left Opua. Hmmm.). The big project has been putting up solar panels. We now have 375 watts of power, as of this afternoon (almost double what we had before).

Being able to turn the computer on, even when it's cloudy, and not have to worry about power usage makes it easy to do things like... write a blog post? Yup! Doesn't hurt to have a few cold beers now and then either. More to do, but the boat's starting to feel quite well set up. Michael from Whatcha Gonna Do (great cruising friends from last season) said: "You have to cruise twice - once to figure out how to do it, and once to do it properly". I think there's a lot of truth to that, and this season should be more comfortable as we've got things more set up the way we want them.

Meanwhile...

We got together yesterday with a number of other cruisers and talked with people who have been to Fiji about where the best places to go are and what some of the highlights of previous trips have been. We both got pretty excited - Fiji sounds just incredibly cool.

One of the neat things is that anytime you drop anchor, you have to go ashore and meet with the local villagers, bring a gift of Kava and have sevusevu, which is basically a welcoming ceremony where you get permission to stay and visit whatever island you're on. We're REALLY looking forward to this opportunity to interact with some of the local Fijians - last season was a little insular in terms of our propensity to make friends with the local people. This season promises to be a little different. Apparently it's hard to leave Fiji without making some real and lasting friendships with Fijians.

The cruising sounds awesome too - lots of great diving, well protected and interesting anchorages, and good sailing in between. It really sounds pretty outstanding.

For now, we're in Savusavu still, finishing up a few more boat chores, and waiting out some wind and rain. We were trying to decide when to leave here, and Amanda said "let's leave when we're ready". It's such a simple concept, but hit me like a ton of bricks. Yes! We'll leave when the chores are done, the weather's good and when we want to... no need for an arbitrary date. I'm enjoying the more relaxed pace of this season already.

We juuuuust managed to get an internet connection up and running, so pictures tomorrow. I think.

Landfall - Savusavu, Fiji

Savusavu, Fiji

The Copra Shed: Maina/Yacht Club

(see Britannia's dinghy at the end of the dock)

Fijians cleaning oysters for pearl cultivation

Enjoying lunch out; Indian curry & Fiji water

(Yeap, it tastes just like bottled water back home)

Four days and three nights of (pretty nice) sailing, and we're in Fiji.

We're in FIJI!

Savusavu is gorgeous, though we've only checked it out from the boat. We arrived in the afternoon, and customs didn't have time to check us in, so our choice was to pay an overtime fee ($200 FJD) or be quarantined on the boat. So, needless to say, we're on the boat. We were hoping for a meal out tonight, but after a long(ish) crossing, it's nice to have some forced downtime. And the sunset has been unreal - we've spent the last hour in the cockpit, taking the same pictures over and over again because every five minutes the light changes and it's like we're in a whole new world.

Savusavu is a very cruiser focused place from what we can tell, peering out from our boat-cage. Kinda reminds me of La Paz - a good dinghy dock, free water, free showers (if you're staying on a mooring, which we are at least for a few days), and good, cheap food. I'm excited to get out and explore.

We've met exactly two Fijians - a marina employee who took escorted us to our mooring, and the health inspector (the only one of three officials who made it out to the boat today). They were both really sweet people, with easy smiles, kind eyes and a laugh that TOTALLY reminds me of the Fijian scenes from Endless Summer II. It does feel like we're in a little bit of a different culture, caught in the middle between Polynesia and Melanesia. It's cool.

Doing this in two seasons was a great call. I'm really happy to have months here, and not just a few weeks. People say that you can easily spend a whole season in Fiji, and I can see why. Having this be a rush stop on the way to Australia from Mexico would be rough.

We'll report more when we get off the boat, and hopefully we'll be able to post some pictures if the internet is decent.

Stay tuned.

Perfect Sailing

Sunrise at sea

Since leaving Minerva, we've had idyllic conditions - as good as anything we've ever seen. The seas have been small, winds have been light but consistent (at least for the last 24 hours) and the skies are clear and beautiful.

It's hard to accept that the term "sailing" applies to such a broad range of experiences!

The best part has been having a dry cockpit - the sail from New Zealand to Minerva was a soaking mess, and we sat stinking below deck. To sit in the sun, read a book, watch the sky (during the day and night) and have the weather be warm is pretty plush.

We're still about 250 miles away from Savusavu, and it's looking like we may end up not making landfall until Tuesday. I'm not looking forward to heaving too and dodging reefs at night, so it'll be nice if we can make some good progress today and tomorrow. If conditions are good, we'll be in on Monday...

Saying Goodbye to Minerva

We're expecting to leave Minerva tomorrow morning. The winds have backed, and we should have much improved conditions for the last 400+ miles that we have to cover before making landfall in Savusavu.

This has been an awesome little pit stop for us. We did some great snorkeling yesterday, had dinner with Piko and Dilligaf until late in the night and have managed to get the boat feeling a little more under control than it was when we raced out of Opua. I still haven't mounted our new solar panels, but otherwise we're in perfect shape and in high spirits.

We're doing a little advance cooking prep even (chocolate chip cookies and other fun things for the passage) to make this leg a little more fun.

It's weird how even though we had some pretty uncomfortable conditions the last time we were out, I already feel excited to get underway again...

Go figure.

Saying Goodbye to Minerva

We're expecting to leave Minerva tomorrow morning. The winds have backed, and we should have much improved conditions for the last 400+ miles that we have to cover before making landfall in Savusavu.

This has been an awesome little pit stop for us. We did some great snorkeling yesterday, had dinner with Piko and Dilligaf until late in the night and have managed to get the boat feeling a little more under control than it was when we raced out of Opua. I still haven't mounted our new solar panels, but otherwise we're in perfect shape and in high spirits.

We're doing a little advance cooking prep even (chocolate chip cookies and other fun things for the passage) to make this leg a little more fun.

It's weird how even though we had some pretty uncomfortable conditions the last time we were out, I already feel excited to get underway again...

Go figure.

Saying Goodbye to Minerva

We're expecting to leave Minerva tomorrow morning. The winds have backed, and we should have much improved conditions for the last 400+ miles that we have to cover before making landfall in Savusavu.

This has been an awesome little pit stop for us. We did some great snorkeling yesterday, had dinner with Piko and Dilligaf until late in the night and have managed to get the boat feeling a little more under control than it was when we raced out of Opua. I still haven't mounted our new solar panels, but otherwise we're in perfect shape and in high spirits.

We're doing a little advance cooking prep even (chocolate chip cookies and other fun things for the passage) to make this leg a little more fun.

It's weird how even though we had some pretty uncomfortable conditions the last time we were out, I already feel excited to get underway again...

Go figure.

Where we are now

Do you see the reef? Can you see the boats? So happy and thankful for GPS!

Beautiful clam living happily on North Minerva reef

We made "land fall" at North Minerva Reef yesterday. It feels so good to 1. not be bashing and banging around and seasick 2. be back in the tropics on Britannia 3. be clean, showered, relaxed and fed. 4. have alone/down time with Krister.

FYI to all cruisers: Minerva (23 37.284 S, 178 55.977 W) has good holding, lots of space (there are 15-20 boats anchored with us now- like a virtual marina) and it provides reasonable protection. There is a bit of roll at high tide but nothing compared to the roadstead anchorages of Baja. A nice place to stop in the middle of a passage if you need a rest or to wait for better weather.

This place that we are is like magic! It's in the middle of the ocean. If you didn't know it was here you'd never find it- and if you did accidentally run into it, you'd be in trouble. It goes from 1000 feet deep to dry land that's only inches above sea level. We just had to trust the coordinates- we couldn't see it with all the swell until we were about 100 yards away. So it feels like we're anchored in the middle of the ocean. There's NOTHING here. The only way to get here is on a private boat; not enough land for an plane to land, or build house, or grow anything... And it's kind of a no man's land. Fiji and Tonga dispute the claim to it. Not that it matters because after a few years of global warming it'll be underwater.

We're waiting here for the wind to blow from a different direction to make our passage to Fiji. Sounds like we'll be here until Friday (that's Thursday for you). While we wait I hope to get in the water and do some snorkeling. I saw a giant manta ray jump and belly flop while coming thru the pass- amazing. There should be a healthy coral eco-system since no one comes here to fish or throw toxins and garbage in the water.

Krister is also doing some boat work while we wait; our propane system needed help (the solenoid is out) and the toilet needed a new valve so it won't back fill. So thankful for that guy! I don't know how we would would manage this trip and living on a boat if he weren't an engineer.

So suddenly were back in cruising mode! Fantastic locations and dirty boat jobs. Feels good to be back home :)

A

Where we are now

We made "land fall" at North Minerva Reef yesterday. It feels so good to 1. not be bashing and banging around and seasick 2. be back in the tropics on Britannia 3. be clean, showered, relaxed and fed. 4. have alone/down time with Krister.

FYI to all cruisers: Minerva (23 37.284 S, 178 55.977 W) has good holding, lots of space (there are 15-20 boats anchored with us now- like a virtual marina) and it provides reasonable protection. There is a bit of roll at high tide but nothing compared to the roadstead anchorages of Baja. A nice place to stop in the middle of a passage if you need a rest or to wait for better weather.

This place that we are is like magic! It's in the middle of the ocean. If you didn't know it was here you'd never find it- and if you did accidentally run into it, you'd be in trouble. It goes from 1000 feet deep to dry land that's only inches above sea level. We just had to trust the coordinates- we couldn't see it with all the swell until we were about 100 yards away. So it feels like we're anchored in the middle of the ocean. There's NOTHING here. The only way to get here is on a private boat; not enough land for an plane to land, or build house, or grow anything... And it's kind of a no man's land. Fiji and Tonga dispute the claim to it. Not that it matters because after a few years of global warming it'll be underwater.

We're waiting here for the wind to blow from a different direction to make our passage to Fiji. Sounds like we'll be here until Friday (that's Thursday for you). While we wait I hope to get in the water and do some snorkeling. I saw a giant manta ray jump and belly flop while coming thru the pass- amazing. There should be a healthy coral eco-system since no one comes here to fish or throw toxins and garbage in the water.

Krister is also doing some boat work while we wait; our propane system needed help (the solenoid is out) and the toilet needed a new valve so it won't back fill. So thankful for that guy! I don't know how we would would manage this trip and living on a boat if he weren't an engineer.

So suddenly were back in cruising mode! Fantastic locations and dirty boat jobs. Feels good to be back home :)

A

Single Handing

Amanda and I have both been sleeping more than we usually do on a passage. I think we're both just exhausted from the last three month marathon. At any event, it's been a less social passage as well since we both crash so hard after coming off watch.

The quali-solitude has made really stop and think about what it would be like to single hand a boat across an ocean. It's amazing the comfort that I think we both take from simply knowing that there's another person on the boat if you really need any help or company - there's a utilitarian aspect of course: a broken leg, concussion, accidental slip overboard... All of these become less dangerous with back up.

But more than that, the human need for another human's presence regardless of the depth of interaction is something that I hadn't really considered until now.

We've had pretty hectic conditions for the last few days - moderately big (10-12 ft) beamy seas and 25 to 35 knot winds without a break. It's not particularly dangerous when I think about it academically. The seas are big enough so that I guess a consequential rogue wave might be more likely or perhaps there's enough wind to make a major mechanical failure less implausible, but the boat's been humming along happily and taking the seas without compliant. Basically, this is just as safe as 10 knots and flat seas if I try to spin out bad scenarios.

Maybe a deeper familiarity with the ocean comes after more than 10,000 miles at sea, but at this point I'm not afraid to admit that conditions like these we've had are intimidating. Not having a person next to you to share those feelings would make me way more afraid. I can see how single handing could almost be a religious experience. It makes me wonder what kids in their teens must feel when they attempt something like a single handed circumnavigation.

Amanda's in the quarter berth, sleeping.

I'm glad she's here.

Third Day Euphoriaora

...or simply TDE (you can take the engineer out of the office, but...). There has to me some medical explanation for this phenomenon since it happens to me every passage. It might be as simple as just feeling well rested. I dunno.

But anyhow, the winds are perfect, the seas are perfect, Britannia is perfect, Amanda is perfect and I'm drinking it all in along with a perfect cup of tea.

Part of me feels like I need to find something to complain about just to make sure that I'm still on planet earth and haven't transcended. On the other hand, if this is heaven, it's fine by me.

Underway

It's been a wild and crazy last few days starting with the startled and blank looks we had when we got to SFO to get on our outbound flight and were asked for New Zealand visas - after a little back and forth, it worked and we landed in Auckland at 5Am on the 30th. Ryan from Shalimar had offered to pick us up and I of course took him up on it, but felt really bad when I realized that picking us up meant driving 2 hours out of his way (and then two hours back with us for a four hour round trip!).

Getting a ride meant that we didn't have to drag over 100lbs of crap through Auckland and that we got back to Opua in time to actually accomplish a few things that day rather than just stumble back on the boat. Most importantly though, we got to spend some time with people that now feel like old friends - Archetheuthis, Dilligaf, Piko and Shalimar are all boats that we spent last season with, and the reunions were pretty sweet.

That was Monday. By Wednesday morning, we'd managed to clean out the boat (no small task - Amanda has some great pictures of all the mold that greeted us, though the boat was in all other ways just as we'd left her), get the bottom cleaned, buy solar panels, buy additional provions, check out of New Zealand and talk with Fijian customs about our arrival. It was pretty hectic and as we sailed out of the Bay of Islands yesterday, I was struck by how different an experience this was from our departure from Mexico. Passage making is starting to feel a little routine, and we know what we need to do - massive thought and mental preparations don't really feel necessary.


One photo is enough to show the kind of mold-covering Britannia grew in our absence.

So we're underway to Savu Savu right now and have spectacular sailing conditions. The seas were big and beamy for the first 12 hours, but are now extremely slight with winds in the 15 to 20 knot range - we've been doing hull speed pretty much for 24 hours straight now.

We're both tired, though I'm finding that I'm sleeping better than I usually do on the first day of a passage - I think there's something to the idea of leaving exhausted. You're going to get exhausted anyhow before you manage to sleep, so you might as well get right to it. Five hours of jetlag doesn't hurt either.

Our time back in the US felt a little dream like, and it's been interesting to feel like I'm snapping out of it since being back. The routine we had at home was ingrained over 10 years, and I think that getting our old jobs back made kept that routine unchanged - it required no thought is I guess what I'm saying. Being on the boat requires lots of thought - dreaming is encouraged as well, but attentiveness is requisite in a way that it's not at home.

Anyhow, it's good to be back. We're missing friends and family back home, but are happy to be back to "real life".