December 21st, 2003
| Things have not gone according
to plan for this season. After six months in a yard in Whangarei, New
Zealand, we finished up the refit
projects on Active Light, filed our departure papers with New
Zealand Customs and three days before we were to leave (on June 9th), Nancy
slipped and fell getting off the boat, breaking her upper left arm. It was a
bad break, just below the left shoulder. In falling, her elbow
hit the gunwale (as she went into the water) and drove the shaft of the
upper arm into the ball joint of the shoulder. This turned out to a small
blessing in this large misfortune, in that the arm shaft pinned itself so securely to the shoulder
joint that the attending
doctor decided surgery, involving pins, screws, and plates, was
unnecessary.
We moved into the Marina Court motel right in front of the boat slips and spent three months recuperating. We will never forget the pain and discomfort Nancy endured that first night, the first week, the first month of recovery. After a month, we were able to move back aboard Active Light and our lives assumed a more normal balance as our anxiety levels over the injury subsided. In every misfortune some good can be found. For the next two months, we continued to perform little upgrades and improvements to the boat that we would not have bothered with ordinarily. Soon Nancy was able to enjoy getting out in the car again and we made three good trips to places around North Island, best of which was the Kauri Forest. Also, Neil began studying guitar with a good jazz teacher in Waipu named Bob McNeely. Soon he was playing a rough version of "All of Me", "You're Nobody 'til Somebody Loves You", and "Popsicle Toes". It has turned out to be a real source of pleasure for him. So we finally left New Zealand the last week of August. We filed our departure papers again to leave just as a big low pressure front had passed over North Island. The customs officer came aboard, checked our boat for fitness, checked our purchase of two cases of 1.125ml bottles of duty free Captain Morgan rum (for US$6.50 each!), and declared, "I wouldn't advise you to leave today, mate. There's another low close on the tail of the one that just passed and there's going to be a whole mess of weather out there.". "Yes, but Neil's visa expires in two days and we do not want to have a problem with New Zealand Customs and wind up on the International Suspect Vessels list.", we replied. "Don't worry about it, mate. If I say you can stay, you can stay.". So sure enough, Tuesday and Wednesday it rained and blew like crazy. Thursday morning, the customs officer and all our friends were on the dock at 8:00am with sunny skies and everyone saying, "Go, and go now, and go fast! In fact, you should already be out at Whangarei Heads", 13 miles downriver. So after a quick coffee and donut goodbye party with our friends aboard Windwalker and Como No, we motored away from our friends and home for the last nine months. |
|
| It was a great passage! Almost due north for 860 nm from the cooler latitude of 35o S to the warmer waters of Fiji. For the first day, we motored in a near calm throughout the morning and midafternoon. (We were motoring north up the east coast of New Zealand's North Island.) As we reached the top of the island a moderate breeze filled in from the SW, driven by the big high that all the locals said would carry us to Fiji. By midnight, the main was down and we were racing along under staysail alone at 7.5 knots, with no strain at all on the boat. The windvane was steering us nicely, and we stayed like that for four days. What a great sail! On the fifth day out the wind lightened and shifted to the SE, we motored a while, we sailed a bit, and soon we picked up something that weakly resembled the expected easterly tradewinds. By this time the water was getting warmer, we had shed many layers of clothing and even begun to take much needed and wonderful deck baths in salt water. On the evening of the 8th day of this passage, we picked up the south coast of Viti Levu, Fiji on the radar. We hove to through the night in about 10 knots of wind, got some sleep and waited for the dawn. We went through the wide, deep, and easy Navula Pass around 0900 and motored for five hours in calm, clear water up the channel inside the reef to Lautoka. |
|
| We anchored in the most awful mud we have yet encountered and, to make matters even worse, woke the next morning to find the boat covered in a coarse black ash from burning sugar cane. We spent two hours cleaning mud from the anchor chain and washing the ash off the deck and house and motored over to the customs anchorage. After clearing with the authorities, we moved immediately to the Vuda Point Marina, where we were placed next to the most uncooperative, pushy, quarrelsome and obnoxious neighbor we yet have found in the entire Pacific Ocean. We will refrain from mentioning the boat's name and country of origin. Oddly, both of the only two unpleasant experiences with other cruisers in the South Pacific have been from the same country. Boaters of the world, be advised (and pardon our pontification)! In everything you do, the way you speak, dress, pay your bills (or not!), whether you help your neighbors in time of need or not, . . . you will be remembered first as a national of your country of origin. No one remembers a cruiser's last name. No one even cares what sort of career one had in that long ago working life before cruising. But everyone remembers first names, boat names, whether or not you helped and shared what you could, . . . and they especially remember your country of origin. End of lecture. | |
|
|
|
| We began our many trips by taxi into Lautoka. Here lives Fiji's largest Indian community. Briefly, they are an industrious and colorful people, they work hard, offer food and wares at bargain prices, comprise about 50% of the population, cannot own land because they are not indigenous Fijians, and they do not always get along well with the natives. We enjoyed walking around this very colorful town, shopping in the numerous little stores, and eating curried dishes. Prices are very, very cheap in Fiji,. | |
|
|
|
|
|
|
| Next, we were inspired to take a public transport bus trip around the whole island of Viti Levu, the biggest island in Fiji. This took us four days to complete, three half days riding the bus, for a total cost of US$12 each. We caught a small local bus from the marina into the bus station in Nadi. These bus stations are crowded with numerous small stalls, mostly run by Indians selling food, snacks, drinks, smokes, newspapers, whatever. Neil delights in sampling the snacks from as many as possible, and he never gets sick! We took the express bus to Suva, about a four-hour ride along the southern coastal highway. We were the only foreigners/whites on the bus. The bus was fairly comfortable and the scenery out the windows was interesting. More interesting was the behavior of our fellow passengers. They were all polite and respectful of us. We sometimes felt they were wondering what we were doing there on such common and cheap public transport. We arrived in Suva, capitol of Fiji around noon and found a good room at the Tropical Towers hotel for US$17 per night. We stayed two nights in Suva. |
|
 |
We walked about downtown Suva, had some wonderful meals, went to the National Fiji Museum, went to several American movies ("Seabiscuit" and "The Italian Job"), shopped and marveled at the whole spectacle. On the third day, we arose from our bed, dressed and took the next leg of our bus trip to Raki Raki, over the hilly interior eastern section of the island to the northern coast. The road was really rough, often unpaved and once split into three different paths to avoid mud holes. We were surprised at how many rivers there are on this large island. Nancy was pretty successful in taking fast snapshots with our new digital camera out the bus window as we bounced through mountain villages, several of which we present here. Our new camera also takes low resolution video/sound clips. These were really shaky and noisy, humorous to us when we reviewed them back home. They take up too much webspace to present here. |
 |
 |
| Although we have no picture of it, we will never forget the Raki Raki hotel. It is the only place to stay on the north coast, meaning, there are no other accommodations. We almost never call ahead for reservations, but everyone we asked said there would be no problem getting a room there. We expected something more imposing, so we were surprised when the bus driver dropped us off on the highway in front of the hotel. We asked, "But, where is it?". "There!", he pointed, slamming the bus door and disappearing in a cloud of blue-black diesel smoke. We walked up to a low rambling one-story structure and were met by a porter who took our luggage and showed us to the reception desk. We negotiated for a room at about US$25 for the night and gradually relaxed into the most enjoyable stay we have ever had. We remember this hotel as being replete with wicker furniture, ceiling fans, bowling and croquet lawns, luxurious flower beds, screened-in rooms complete with resident gecko, lots of uniformed waiters, porcelain wash-up bowls on the dresser top, . . . and a dining room lounge when you expected to look up to see Humphrey Bogart in a white suit and panama hat come strolling in with Lauren Bacall on his arm. We are certain we saw Sidney Greenstreet's grandson there in a white double-breasted suit, sans fez, slouching like a sack of flour in a wicker chaise, sipping gin and tonic through a silver straw! We sipped gin and tonics in the lounge watching the evening news on TV and had wonderful Indian meals in the dining room. It was a great experience. Next morning we took a taxi on into town and caught another bus for the last leg into Ba Town and on back to Lautoka. | |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
In Ba Town, we changed bus, had a breakfast of rolls and coffee in a little Chinese cafe, and Nancy began a career as a surreptitious photographer of Fijian street scenes. Our new camera has a "tiltable" LCD viewfinder. She would cradle the camera in the crook of her elbow, walk smiling down the street and snap photos of unsuspecting citizens. Fine for her, you say, but what about the shattered dignity and abused rights of these innocent Fijian nationals, whose everyday lives are so rudely displayed in the following three photographs? Our time in Fiji was woefully short, as our cruising season was truncated to two months by Nancy's accident. We sailed to Musket Cove, a popular island destination and sat anchored through three days of strong winds. We made several more trips into Lautoka, but soon started our preparations for moving on to Vanuatu. We had the deadline of airline tickets waiting in Brisbane and a rendezvous with Beth, a friend of our daughter Shawna in Vanuatu. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
| The trip was to Vanuatu was pleasant and pretty uneventful, except for a finger Neil caught in a genoa block. He did not practice guitar for a week and wore a black fingernail on through Christmas. Our log records several good days with brisk downwind sailing, one day with rough seas, and a couple days of rolling in very light airs from astern. We even hove to one night in light airs just to get six hours sleep. We flew the spinnaker often, and even managed to wrap it once in a dying breeze. We motored 720 degrees to port to unwrap it. Our first wrap! We took few pictures. That seems to be typical of us, we will forget about the camera for several days if we are distracted by anything else. We had our "Land Ho, Vanuatu!" at 1210 local time on October 1st, the island of Efate about 20 nm off the starboard bow (right photo). We dropped our 66 pound Spade hook in the quarantine anchorage in Port Vila later that evening, guided in by our friend, Doug on "Chica Pica", whom we have known since our La Paz, Mexico days. The first night's sleep in a calm anchorage after a passage is always a wonderful thing. |
|
| Customs and immigration clearance here were a bit easier and more relaxed than usual, we cannot even remember a quarantine inspection, we were only charged for it. One of the first things we did ashore was to visit the Vanuatu National Museum. It was not big, but holds a number of important carvings and a good display of primitive island sailing craft. | |
|
|
|
|
We stayed in the quarantine anchorage for a
few days before moving into the Yachting World marina to take a mooring and enjoy the
showers, ice, restaurant, bar, dinghy dock, and laundry services ashore. We
took frequent walks into town, enjoying the new sights. Each time we arrive at a new port, we have a little private "going
ashore" ritual that never varies. We will spend the morning finding
customs and immigration, getting some local currency from an ATM, and around
1130, suddenly Nancy will get really hungry. She will insist upon eating
immediately at the most expensive tourist-trap restaurant in town. We will
never eat there again because the food is not very good, but at least it
costs three times what a normal good meal ashore will cost after we learn
where the good restaurants are located. Neil has resignedly
rationalized this fruitless and inevitable "first meal ashore"
ritual as one of the small costs one must pay to live the blessed cruising
lifestyle. Later, we bought imported Australian steaks at the supermarket for about
US$1.00 each and vegetables, great huge red bell peppers from the open
market. The steaks were great on the grill. We met several friends
in this harbor and had dinner and drinks out with them. |
|
|
|
|
|
After a week in Vila, we obtained a
permit to cruise to several of the northern islands. We had a lovely overnight sail in full moonlight north to Lamen Bay on the island of Epi. Here
we hoped to catch a glimpse of the famous solitary dugong who feeds on the
bottom grass of that bay. We were fortunate enough to find him browsing in
the shallows on our first day. We swam with him, along with about five other
cruisers, and even were able to stroke his back when he was feeding on the
bottom at about eight feet. He has a very sparse prickly hair on his back
and seems to enjoy the attention from the "tourists".
In this harbor and others throughout Vanuatu people often row out to your yacht in their outrigger canoes to sell or trade fruit, vegetables, shells, and carvings for whatever you have. They don't often want money. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
| Sunday morning, we went to the Epi Island Presbyterian church. There were approximately 100 people attending. The sermon was in Bislama, a pidgin English language. We sang hymns in pidgin with the congregation, standing up with a very nice elderly lady who kindly shared her hymnal with us. We suspect she could not read the Bislama text, but knew the words to all the hymns anyway. The music was accompanied by an electric piano and a guitar. It was very hot inside. At the end of the service, the minister asked us, in English, to stand and introduce ourselves. Then he came down the aisle and led us outside where we shook hands with every member of the congregation as they left church. We were really touched and flattered by their kindness and acceptance of us. Walking around the village after church, people would sometimes wave hello to us. It feels nice to be welcomed in a strange land. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
| Apio Jack invited us to church on Lamen Island, we were unable to go. He invited us to his grandson's birthday party and pig roast. Several days later, on our last day in Epi, we told him Neil was a trombone player. He said, "Hmmm, I have never heard a trombone. Will you play with our island string band?". So that evening, he commanded the "Sounds of the Sunset String Band" to play in the village meeting house. They did not seem too happy about this impromptu performance, but they played anyway. There were four guitars, only one of which had a full set of strings, three island ukuleles, and a "washtub" bass player who was very good. Every tune was in A major and had a "strum/chuck" beat preceded by the same rapid-fire ukulele introduction on an E7 chord. Every tune was in the same style, only the words and melodies were different. Everyone sang in parallel two-part harmony on every song. These fellows are not without talent, however. The whole village hung around listening through the large open windows and doorways. Neil was invited to live on Epi by the chief to continue to play with the band, an offer which he sadly declined. |
 |
|
We moved on to the lonely southeast corner of
the island of Malakula. We anchored in a very well-protected bay for four
days of overcast weather. And here we met the extended family of Manse, his sons and daughters. They live in a couple of poorly constructed shacks on the
southern shore of a
small, low island. This is their home, not a temporary fish camp. There are no water, electricity,
or sewage facilities.
They fish the lagoons and farm vegetable gardens on the larger island of
Malakula. They are depressingly poor. Their outrigger canoes are their only method of transport. We got to know all three
families a little and we
gave them everything we could spare aboard Active Light, plastic water jugs, old rigging lines,
17 shirts, 5 meters of island
print fabric (a prize which was really treasured by Manse's daughter, Seddlin), sewing needles and
thread, reading glasses, fish
hooks and line, etc., etc. It was all appreciated. In turn, we had papayas galore
for the next week. They all ripened at once. We are sorry to inform you that contrary to popular belief, there are few fish left in the lagoons and reefs of the South Pacific, especially among the populated islands. Below water, while snorkeling, you will often find a desert, a wasteland. The coral is often dying and there are so few food fish. If you find fish, other than the small tropical "aquarium fish", it is an exception, and even the aquarium fish are suffering great pressure due to the increased demands for them after the success of the Disney movie "Finding Nemo". Currently, the Vanuatu government has a ban on reef fishing to allow the fish population to rebuild. This ban is mostly ignored by the locals. In Tonga, there are so few fish the locals hunt food fish at night with a spotlight and a powered speargun. The only place we saw numerous fish all across the South Pacific was on the islands of Tahanea and Fakarava in the Tuamotus, which have, respectively no and few inhabitants. |
|
|
|
|
| After several gloomy and overcast days in this anchorage, we had a final meal one afternoon of something called "SwitBif" (Sweet Beef?) canned in New Guinea. We had bought this from the canned meats shelf in a Port Vila supermarket. Neil took one bite of it over rice and threw it out. Nancy ate her portion. We raised the anchor and set off in a moderate south wind back toward Port Vila. Nancy became nauseous as the wind and wave action picked up, only to become violently seasick throughout the night. Poor Neil had to pull all night watch duty as Nancy lay groaning in her bunk. The wind stayed around 30-35 knots all night and the seas became pretty rough. We were closehauled on a starboard tack. Neil made the mistake of not removing the heavy Spade anchor from its roller on the bow, . . . expecting an easy passage is always a mistake, so this piece slammed against the bowsprit all night. Now he has a nice bit of restoration work to do. It became so rough, Neil could not go up to the bow to tie it down with Nancy sick in her bunk. So we had a very unpleasant passage back to Port Vila, tacking all the way. We picked out the lights of a huge cruise ship (a "Love Boat") around midnight. Neil hailed same on the VHF, exchanging course and bearing information. This large modern vessel, with radar on and an alert and courteous officer at the helm, could not see Active Light on radar at 8 nm until we turned on the masthead strobe! We have a large fixed Firdell Blipper reflector 25 feet up the mast, but from now on we will also fly a Davis radar reflector. Unsettling, no? |
|
|
|
|
|
Back in Port Vila, we completed a rendezvous with Beth Cleary, a Peace Corps friend of our daughter, Shawna. Beth was in Vila participating with a team of American eye doctors who were donating their services to the people of Vanuatu for a week of free eye clinics. We were proud of them all and what a delight Beth was! We had dinner and drinks with friends Dan, Marian, and Dana on Windwalker, Bob and Hella on Explorer, and Dr. John aboard Kehaulani. Nancy baked a huge batch of passage cookies, we did the rounds of customs and immigration and made ready for passage to Brisbane, Australia. Vanuatu will stand out in our memories as the most "third world" of all the countries we have visited thus far. It is a lovely country and the people were very good to us. Vanuatu's dark past is not that far behind them, the last known incident of cannibalism occurred as recently as 1969. You will not find youths in gang attire hanging out on the street corner listening to American rap music. There is some influence of the reggae movement in these islands and, unfortunately, to our minds, the perniciously influential American videos like "Terminator III" are available here. It is unfortunate and unstoppable that many American "info-tainment" products have spread like a media plague throughout the South Pacific. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
| We left
Port Vila on a beautiful Thursday morning for an eight day, 1062 nm
passage to Brisbane. We set out due west from Port Vila through a twelve
mile wide passage in the reefs over the top of New Caledonia, then altered
course to SW for Australia. We had picture perfect weather for the first
four days, saw only one other vessel on the first day out. We were buzzed
by a French Navy jet on the afternoon of the second day. By day five the
weather had deteriorated and we had one bad night with 25 knots on the
starboard nose with an unsettling dry electrical display in gray/black
clouds. By day seven, the weather had turned sweet again and would you
believe we were excited to sight a floating empty soy sauce bottle? This
is a pretty empty stretch of ocean. At 60 nm from the Australian coast we
began to sight a variety of large container vessels bound to and from
Sydney. We closed with the coast at 1300 in the afternoon and began
wending our way through the shallows of the large Moreton Bay to the
customs marina at Scarborough. Just as we arrived at dusk, another squall
rolled over us, with more lightning display and blinding rain. We lost
sight of the lights for the marina entrance, ran aground in mud, backed
off, went into and back out of the wrong marina entrance channel, . . .
and just before midnight tied up at the proper quarantine dock. Whew!
Welcome to Australia.
Our intentions for the near future are to fly back to the USA for our daughter's wedding and Christmas visits to Nancy's mother and Neil's sister, Virginia, returning to Australia in January 2004. During the months of March and April we want to tour the Australian continent in a clockwise route with the 1985 Nissan station wagon we have bought (pretty much sight unseen!). In May we will set out with our friend Dan and Marian on Windwalker, to go up inside the Great Barrier Reef, through the Torres Straits, and over to Darwin. From there, in August, we will depart in company with Windwalker and possibly other boats to Kuala Lumpur, Thailand. We will sit out the next cyclone season there. These plans are set in Jell-O and subject to much change. We will let you know and try to be better about posting these long, boring, and labor-intensive newsletters. |
|
|
Nancy and Neil s/v Active Light Scarborough Marina Twenty km north of Brisbane, Australia |
|
