Happy New Year!

Giant sand dunes at 90-mile beach

As we sit here near Russell, confined to the boat by driving rains, the kids are tired and a bit cranky.  We finally caved to their pleadings of being allowed to stay up until midnight to celebrate the New Year. Even though Matt and I could barely stay awake once we passed 10:30, we ultimately had a great view of neighboring Paihia's fireworks display. There wasn't any imbibing, since the weather was delivering 35-40 knot gusts that had us concerned about dragging and/or fending off other dragging boats. We ended up being fine, but there was a bit of drama in the next bay over when the winds knocked a 60-foot boat off its anchor and set it adrift without anyone on board.

Contemplating the big drop



It's just past three years since we moved aboard Perry. During that time the kids have grown and changed in many ways, mostly positive, but they have recently fine-tuned the art of bickering with each other over the most trivial of items.  This prodded me to read a book (Nurture Shock) that talks about why siblings fight so much. Besides the obvious karma from Matt and I driving our own parents crazy in the same way, it seems that it is almost impossible to stop siblings from fighting because they know that no matter how they behave, their family will still be there. The most important aspect in fostering a good relationship is not in stopping the fighting but making sure that there are more good moments than bad.



Dancers at the Waitangi Treaty Grounds

By that standard, Mark and Conrad have a pretty good relationship. Although the sniping garners more attention, most of the time they spend together is happy. And, while I'm contemplating my navel, I would say that the same is true in general for our lives: the good experiences tip the scale over the bad for us. Fortunately, the memories that stick out are the ones like whales swimming through an anchorage, sea lions climbing onto the boat, breathtaking vistas and immersion in cultures completely different from what we're used to. The stress of broken boat systems, the discomfort of some passages, and the strains of being together so often in close quarters are typically forgotten when all is blended together and you emerge on the far side. For now, the good moments far outweigh the bad. We hope it stays that way for us, and for you, as we dive into a New Year.

 

Mark greeting a bow ornament with a traditional Maori greeting

This big pigeon seems much nobler than its cousins back in Grant Park

A boat friend's birthday party, cruiser style

Gifts from the sea: calamari and scallops

Catching squid off the back of Perry



En Zed (NZ)

Hundertwasser toilets in Kawakawa

They say 'zed' here in New Zealand rather than 'z'. They also don't measure distances in blocks (think meters) or have brussel sprouts. Other than little things like that, and if you disregard the obvious  British influences (accents, driving on the left side), being in New Zealand is a lot like being back in the U.S. Among other things, this means a cornucopia of foodstuffs.  Even small convenience stores carry much more than most of the 'big' stores we have visited over the last few years.  The kids were literally running around the supermarket yelling, 'Look! They have shrimp!  Look! They have broccoli!'

Pompallier House, Russell

Whereas in most of the areas we have frequented, 9-year olds were seen driving dinghies and there were rarely working seatbelts in cars, New Zealand requires seatbelts and wants kids to be a bit older before they drive a boat by themselves. They have laws here and expect you to follow them (and they actually have police to enforce them).  We bought a car to use while we're here, which makes things seem even more civilized. We no longer have to walk a mile to the store to find out that there's no fresh food or produce, but the supply boat might come in next Thursday.

Tannery at the Pompallier House. They used to soak
the leather in urine to soften it.

Speaking of cars, our new "beater" car is a radical departure from our previous vehicles.  We have always been very practical, point-A-to-point-B car people (Honda Civic).  We were hoping to get perhaps a Subaru wagon or a beat up van or something else similar.  So of course we have somehow ended up with a 1999 BMW 328i.  Mark on Amelie IV says it makes perfect sense as we are just perpetuating the stereotype of lawyers in a Beamer. In our defense, it was the cheapest car we could find without super high mileage.  We got a great deal on it so we're hoping it will be easy to sell when we leave.

Our new (to us) wheels

We have been steadily working on our list of boat projects. The good news on the transmission is that nothing appears to be wrong with it (which is good since they're not available from the factory until mid-March 2016). The bad news is that something is still making a very cranky noise. Matt dove into the very chilly (for us), murky, and mutant-jellyfish-infested water to check out the shaft, which seems fine. As soon as we get our new batteries installed within the next few days, we will move the boat and do some more diagnostics.

Trail from Okiato to Russell. We can still find
ways to torture the kids.

 

Nearly vertical climbing hazard? Send the kids!

In the meantime, we are managing to see some of the sights around Opua and the kids are having a good time with friends, both new and old.

Santa and the Tooth Fairy at the Christmas Parade in Paihia

Waiariki Pools--Jed Clampett discovers hot springs
rather than oil in his backyard, digs pools, charges admission.

 

 

Ruapekapeka pa battlesite

 

A train that runs down the main street in Kawakawa

I don't taste like bacon, therefore I am

Sunset from our anchorage in Opua

It's Day 3 of our passage from Fiji to New Zealand and we have run out of the quiche we made before we left. We eye each other hungrily. Matt says, "Don't worry, if you tasted like bacon and cheese, I'd have eaten you a long time ago." Comforting.

Dock rats

Compared to what others have experienced, our passage to New Zealand went relatively well. The trip took seven and a half days, and only required about half a day of motoring. We went through 3 different rather abrupt fronts, which made this the most technically challenging sail we have experienced in a while. Although the resulting confused waves and wind on the nose were uncomfortable, we got to sail more than we thought we would based on the forecast when we left. Our sail repair held and nothing major broke. One of our reefing lines chafed through, requiring a mid-trip repair, and we found out as we went to drop anchor that a good portion of chain had worked its way out of the drain hole in the anchor locker and was banging itself against the outside of the boat.

Kids' fishing competition.

On night watch during the passage I was treated to a front row seat for some spectacular red and green meteors (the Leonid Meteor showers were going on) for as long as I could stand to stay outside. As we crept closer to New Zealand, the water and air got cooler and cooler. We pulled into the quarantine dock at around 8:30 p.m. in a cold rain just as the last light of the day was fading away.

The trail from Opua to Paihia

The Bay of Islands is scenic and friendly. We made it in time for the last hurrah of the sailing rally and we are seeing a lot of the same boats we met in Panama and French Polynesia. As our friend Darya says, it's a low-budget production with the same cast of characters. We are enjoying being back in civilization but still adjusting to the relative cold compared to Fiji. We are seeing 60 degrees Fahrenheit some mornings. Seeing as it is snowing back in Chicago, we try not to complain too much.

We've been busy since we've arrived.  We've had to do some major shopping because we showed up with almost no food due to NZ quarantine restrictions.  Thanksgiving and Mark's birthday are coming up. We also have a long list of boat projects to tackle while we're here and new ones always have a way of popping up. As we moved our boat the other day, the transmission in the starboard engine started to make a horrible noise. It turns out that our 2-1/2 year old ZF Hurth tranny is on its last legs. Oh well, if we were going to have a breakdown, this is a better place for it than anywhere we've been in the last several years since Opua has pretty much every boat service you would need.  Hopefully we'll sort out all the projects and have plenty of time to explore this beautiful country both by boat and by land. 

Matt has been honing his mechanical skills

Hoarding is good!

Conrad the fish at 'Grand Canyon' in Namena.
It goes down a long way (further than we could see).

Matt would like me to write about how we now have proof that his pack-rat tendencies are a good thing. I am not convinced, but will dutifully pass this public service announcement on to you.

Unicorn fish and tons of other fish at the Grand Canyon.

While we were moored in Savusavu, we met a local guy named Semi. He cleans and polishes boats in the area. One day he motored up to our boat and asked whether we had any boat polish that he could borrow to finish a job he had started on another boat. Matt dug up a rusted gallon container of rubbing compound that had been on the boat when we bought it.  He wasn't even sure it was still any good. Semi used a small amount to finish his job--it was still effective. The gallon of compound was worth about $150 U.S. but would have cost more in Fiji.  Semi really wanted the gallon but didn't have any cash. So we worked out a deal where he would polish the stainless steel on the boat and clean and wax our hulls. This would reportedly take two days and he would earn about $10 Fijian an hour (the going rate is about $4-5 Fijian an hour).



Nemo(s)

This was the start of a long and frustrating saga where Semi would make excuses for why he couldn't do the work that day, started late, needed to borrow the dinghy, or needed cash for lunch, or needed cash for his kids to eat, or needed cash for a bus ride. He wasn't overly pushy about asking for the extra money, but it was still draining to have to keep saying 'No' all the time.  As if we hadn't learned our lesson, when the main portion of the work was finally done, we worked out another deal with him to trade our old kayak for cleaning and polishing the inside hulls and transom. Surprisingly, after all was said and done, we had shiny stainless steel and a polished hull. All it cost us was the rubbing compound, an old leaky kayak that we were going to give away, some lunches, and a bit of dinghy gas. Objectively it was a good deal for us, but subjectively it was a big pain the butt (not to mention that Matt now has some justification for hanging on to every little scrap that he thinks might be useful).

 

After Savusavu, we spent several days in Namena, which had the best snorkeling we have experienced in Fiji (and possibly anywhere in the last three years). Even our  jaded sons were impressed. We also had a great Halloween with our friends on Amelie IV. Meg did a Frankenstein Jell-O project with the kids and we trick-or-treated with each other for way too much candy.

Demi-gods (Percy Jackson) who love candy

In the "What broke now?" section of our program, the top car of our main sail track split, rendering our already torn mainsail completely useless. We spent the last three days motorsailing with only our jib to Lautoka, just up the coast from the sail loft. We hope it will take about a week to get the sail repaired (once we take down the sail we'll replace the broken car) and then we'll wait for a weather window to New Zealand. It sounds like planning the trip to New Zealand is an exercise in minimizing unpleasantness (e.g. significant motoring, uncomfortable points of sail, bad weather). The "women and children" of two of our sets of boat friends have chosen to fly to New Zealand while the men (with crew) sail. Maybe I should be worried (that's a joke, grandparents).

Local knowledge

When you visit a place like Fiji, where people are so friendly and open, one of the benefits is that you learn things that aren't in the guidebooks. For example, we learned that the Indians (from India) that live here usually burn their dead and let the remaining bones wash into the ocean.

Beautiful fabric-covered graves near Yanuca Village.

The native Fijians bury their dead but as with many people in the South Pacific islands, the graves sit on their property if they live in a town (sometimes even in their front yards). We also found out that this is the first year that Fijians don't have to pay to send their kids to school. Because of the cost (to us nominal but out of reach of many Fijians), not all kids were able to attend school. At several of the islands we visited, the kids take a boat to school.

Rain stone in Vatusogusogu

The wind was intense and the sun made itself scarce for the last week and a half, but we enjoyed hanging out with the Fijians. Every village we have visited has been very friendly and welcoming. We got to spend Fiji Day in Yanuca, where Mark, Conrad and Meghan from Amelie IV participated in games with the other kids. Later that day, we attended a dance performance and got to show off our less-than-impressive dance moves. The Fijians seem to have inherited the same talent for music and dance that we have seen all over the South Pacific.

We were slowly making our way over the north side of Taveuni towards Vanua Levu and back to Savusavu when our mainsail ripped so we are now back in Savusavu. At least the sun is out and we're back to being Goldilocks (too cold, too hot).

Bite the bun, hon.

 

 

 

Life's short and Fiji is great

The beach at Wailagilala Island.

We're a month or so away from leaving for New Zealand. Our friend Owen swears that Amelie IV and we will singlehandedly boost the GDP of New Zealand when we arrive and start buying boat parts and supplies. We have a long to do list that keeps getting longer, which has set off my usual hand-wringing about spending so much money when we're not making much.

Holy bats, Batman. There were thousands of these guys.

However, it's impossible for me to get too anxious about finances when Fiji is so awesome. Honestly, I wasn't expecting too much from Fiji. Matt and I visited Fiji (and New Zealand) 14 years ago and while I enjoyed it, I thought I knew what it was all about: great diving, lush vegetation, kava, brain forks, and pushy vendors. After two weeks here, I am just blown away by the unique topography, wildlife, and friendly people.

 

Could you both look at the camera at the same time?



No? At least the view is nice... (Bay of Islands)



So far we have visited Savusavu, the Bay of Islands in the Lau Group, and a couple of amazing spots on our way back to Taveuni. In the Bay of Islands, we saw almost no other boats and anchored among cliffs and mushroom islets filled with tropical vegetation. Thousands of fruit bats nested nearby as we explored caves and snorkeled.

271 steps--the record for ascending them is 56 seconds.
I did not set the record. For the record.

Nestled in the corner of Duff Reef is a tiny island made up almost entirely of 'pink' sand. Mark and Conrad were in heaven because they love the beach and the whole island is a beach. There were dozens of enormous (six feet in diameter) loggerhead turtles swimming around the anchorage waiting to mate (one made Matt a little nervous as he snorkeled nearby) and lay their eggs in a couple of weeks. Unfortunately, there were a handful of turtle bones littering the beach from turtles that we think must have been killed for food.  The only drawback to the island is that it gets pretty rocky at high tide in strong winds as the waves crash over the reef.

A nautilus shell that the caretaker at Wailagilala gave
Conrad. Conrad wants you to know that he is not
naked below the waist. Nope.

Our next stop was Wailagilala island, which is surrounded by big swaths of white sand (can you tell we have been a little beach deprived lately?). It has been leased by a wealthy absentee Australian, who is having numerous houses built for friends and family. We were treated to very close encounters with curious boobies (the birds, not the mammaries) and even saw a rare juvenile red-footed booby from a few feet away.

Curious brown-footed boobies examining the boys. They
came a lot closer than this. Wailagilala Island.

A juvenile red-footed booby, with Mom nearby.
This is the closest we have gotten to one.

We have had so many unique experiences during our travels that we admittedly get a little jaded sometimes.  It's nice to know that we can still be wowed.

Let them eat (dry) cake

Sand spit in Tonga (only at low tide). The kids played
'Marco Polo' on land.

As we celebrated Matt's birthday last week, he got a little older and I was reminded that I am not getting any smarter. I made a cake from a mix--the kind that literally has four ingredients (cake mix, eggs, oil, and water)--and managed to forget one of the ingredients. To file away in your collection of nearly-useless information: if you're going to forget an ingredient in prepackaged cake mix, water is the only one you can get away with. I wouldn't recommend it unless you like really dry cake, though. Fortunately homemade chocolate frosting covers a lot of sins, if a bit lumpily.

A walking stick insect on a hike in Tonga. Note
Conrad's I'm-not-touching-it face

We had a better-than-expected passage from Tonga to Fiji. Wind speeds were higher than predicted and we made great time. Unfortunately the good wind only held for two days. On the third day, we had to throw up the spinnaker to maintain a decent speed and then slow ourselves way down overnight to avoid an arrival in the dark. During the trip, it was relatively calm but the sea state didn't completely agree with us. No one got sick but no one felt like doing or eating much. We were happy as usual to get to our destination.

That's rapidly boiling water behind Conrad.

Our friends on Amelie, who had been in Fiji for a week, arranged for a mooring nearby and gave us the lay of the land. The various officials, including the most jovial customs official we have encountered yet (he started out by joking that he would be taking the kids away for a bit of a holiday), boarded our boat and got us checked in warmly and efficiently.

Waitui Marina has showers. We had never seen a hot water
heater at the shower head before. I had already finished
my very cold shower; Matt figured it out before his.

Savusavu is a real, working city (as opposed to one that lives off of tourists) with enticing smells coming out of the many storefronts that line the waterfront. Food is inexpensive (doubly so because of the 2:1 exchange rate with the U.S. dollar) and delicious. As the local personality "Curly" has mentioned on the morning VHF net, it is almost cheaper to eat out than to cook at home. When we got to shore, Mark and Conrad ran straight for the fumaroles on the black sand beach. Sometimes locals cook food or even skin animals over the boiling water of the hot springs there and elsewhere in the island (although a sign at one hot springs site prohibits the killing and preparation of animals there).

We will spend a few days enjoying Savusavu and then head to the Lau Group, where there will be nothing but remote villages without stores or restaurants.