C is for Companionship!

"What's it like sailing with so many newbies?" asked Anna-Christina.
It was mid morning and we had just backed Conversations II's stern up to the dock and tied her up Mediterranean style, maybe ten minutes ago. As is the fashion common to cruisers, Anna-Christina had strolled down the dock to lend a hand and welcome us to Port Villa.
Anna-Christina looked like a sailor, like a long time cruiser. In the morning sun, I noticed her long blond hair was beaded and that she was a deeply tanned and healthy looking woman about middle age. I learned right away she was French and a crew member of a neighboring boat soon to be sailing to New Zealand to dodge the cyclone season. It hadn't taken her keen eyes and ears long to gauge the experience of our crew during our docking, but I was a little surprised by directness of her question. Though
they had handled it pretty well, it was the first time most of them had done this. 'God bless the French for speaking their minds' I said to my self.
"It's great to have newbies" I said to her, "They learn to do it all my way, and I am the ultimate control freak" I joked.
She smiled.
"No really" I went on, "As you know, it's the character of the people you put to sea with that makes the difference."
She nodded, smiled and started to share something of the character of her skipper and fellow crew mates.

After a while I excused myself and went back on board to tidy up and plunge into the long list of stuff to be done when first alongside. But her comment stayed with me. Anna-Christina was right. Many of my crew are novice sailors. Not coincidently, many of them have asked me the same question in different ways - "What's it like to sail with so many inexperienced sailors?". Of the six crew we had on the first passage from San Francisco to Hawaii, only one crew member had any experience sailing offshore.
On the passage from Hawaii to Fiji, only two of four crew had some experience sailing onshore, but very little offshore experience. On the present passage to Darwin from Vanuatu, everyone except Matt, who now has two passages under his belt, are new to sailing.

Fellow cruisers are also a bit taken aback when they learn there are five, six or seven of us on board. "How do you ever get along with so many people?" they all want to know. But that's the thing - it helps that there are a lot of them. With so many crew, I don't stand my own watch for the first while until everyone gets accustomed to steering and looking out for weather and other boats. So I do a lot of teaching and a lot of explaining, and some shouting from one end of the boat to the other! And,
at night, I am up for just about every watch long enough to get things sorted out, then nap in between. If these passages were difficult passages, this would be tough, but trade wind passages are usually pretty gentle.

But the real key, as Anna-Christina and I agreed, is the character of the people onboard. It takes a lot of maturity to show up in this environment. It's tough to be a beginner 24/7, to get used to sleeping only 4 or 5 hours at a time, to be up every night for 3 hours to stand watch, and to be away from all the comforts of home and work. It's tough to volunteer to do the cooking in a swinging galley, to wash up the dishes then stumble around on the foredeck in the middle of the night gybing the monstrous
spinnaker poles this boat carries. And it's got to be realty tough taking orders all day long from yours truly! But we really are having fun because we all have the character to show up and work together.

The other thing about having lots of crew is this: Everyone has something special to contribute. Some turn out to be great cooks, a contribution never to be underestimated at sea. Others are quick to learn how to steer and manage the sails. Others are able to restore the constant stream of broken equipment that is a part of sailing. Everyone brings their unique contribution to the mix and we sail happily on. I guess it comes down to this: Passage making is a team sport. Whether such a venture is
a success (its fun) or a failure (we want to kill one another or jump overboard, depending on our style) stands on our learned capacity to self manage and show up and contribute as we can.

I cannot resist the analogy for life and work. To the extent we are Captains of our own lives or careers, we have the opportunity to choose carefully the people we bring onboard for our passages, whatever that might be for all of us. We need the right mix of talent on our 'boat'. We need people around us whose journey, interests and passions parallel and compliment our own. We benefit if we surround ourselves with people in whose presence we learn and with whom we do our best work. Thee opposite
is true too: We suffer when we spend time with people who drain our energy and confound our purpose. Like a Captain chooses his or her crew for fit and character, we benefit if we are strategic in surrounding ourselves with people whose presence in our lives is a compliment to our journey, and move away from those who are not. Hang out with cool people, have fun and succeed. It doesn't happen by accident.

I didn't spend too much more time in conversation with Anne-Christina after that first meeting on the dock, but I watched her around the place and noticed her knack for meeting people. Independent, yet interested in people, she seemed to check out everyone, and then pick who she spent time with. She looked like she was having fun to me!

C. Cresswell

A day in Paradise - aka Epi Island

Nov. 4, 2008

As you recall a few days ago Dennis wrote and talked about Kava and said someone else would tell you about the rest of that day? Well, here it is, finally. Hope the sequence of days you are receiving aren't too out of order.

After a stressful evening watch, my six hour sleep gave me a whole new outlook as I prepared to tackle my next watch at 3am. Dennis and Rita had had an uneventful watch and Natasha was set so we started out stress free. It was a star filled night with a crescent moon, light winds and no big swells, so everyone was happy, including the people who were trying to sleep below. It was one of our best watches ever. By 4:30 am the sky was starting to lighten up and we could see that we were running
parallel to one of the Vanuatu islands. The trip from Port Vila to Epi Island should be 80 nautical miles.

It was so calm and quiet and peaceful and at approx. 5 am we saw a beautiful sunrise (some at home might say my first one, ha ha) coming up over the mountain. We had dropped our boat speed down to 2 kts so we put up the Genoa and off we went again. By 6:30 am everyone was awake and we all took turns uuwing and ahing (are those words?) about the beautiful scenery ahead. I was not tired so I stayed up for the french toast Dennis had prepared.

By 7:30 am we were anchored in Lamen Bay at Epi Island. From the boat this island looked mostly uninhabited and all we could see was a few small one story buildings, a long spanse of beautiful beach, a few volcanoes and rainforest covering most of the island. What a gorgeous place to spend a day ! (or a week) It was hot already, with a small breeze which gave some relief. A bigger relief would be a swim in the beautiful azure blue water and it was all there for the taking. We swam to the nearest
reef to snorkel. I was impressed with the coral formations and all the fish. You could swim through channels with 10 - 20 ft walls of coral on either side. A massive head of brain coral, some reindeer coral and many other types with colored tips, names which I didn't know. I surface to hear Dennis screaming. There are dolphins over here - two of them! He sounds winded and I take off as quickly as I can in his direction but to my disappointment they were gone. He was still breathing quite
heavily when I got there. I wonder if he thought they were sharks?? We were all totally pumped now and were hoping they would return to the bay. In the meantime others from our boat were discovering giant sea turtles all over the place. Some were feeding on the plankton at the bottom, so we could watch them for a long time. Others swam by quite quickly.

We all took a break and went on board. Suddenly Rita spotted something. A brownish, arched back surfaces. Maybe the dolphins are back. No, it's not a dolphin, dolphins would be grey, it must be a dugong. We read that they frequent this bay. That must be what swam by Dennis earlier. It disappeared underwater and then would resurface again a few hundred feet closer to us. Cress was in the dinghy checking out the coral reefs so we yelled at him to come back, giving him directions as to where
to see the dugong. People jumped off the boat left and right, swimming furiously in the direction of the spotting. It was angling towards shore. By then Rita and I were in the dinghy with Cress. A dinghy with a motor should be faster than the crazy men out there swimming! What were they thinking? Dennis stayed on the boat wildly shaking his arms all over the place, giving us directions. Both arms pointing straight out and ahead, he looked like he was bringing an airplane into a terminal!
My view from the dinghy showed total chaos! At this point Rita and Cress also went overboard. "It's right there in front of you", Dennis yells!

Okay, now it's decision time. Do I also jump in with my goggles on and take the chance that the dinghy will float away or do I do the responsible thing, stay in the dinghy and miss an opportunity of a lifetime ? !! I grabbed my goggles and the dinghy rope, jumped in and pulled the dinghy with me with my head under water. That's when I realized I had not turned off the motor... but it was in neutral, so singa nalinga !(no worries in Fijian lingo) Besides, I had other more important matters at hand.
There it was - about 40 feet in front of me! A large grey, very large grey sea cow swimming away from me. I wanted to see it, yes, but I didn't want a close personal encounter so this was good ! I preferred to see his backside than meeting him face to face!

Back on the sailboat there was much chatter and excitement. Everyone of us had seen the dugong from varying distances. That, together with swimming with giant sea turtles and snorkeling the reef made this day a huge success and it wasn't even noon yet. There would be more to come. What a great decision on Cress' part to take a little detour to Epi Island.

Now we decided it was time to explore the island. All six of us hopped into the dinghy and headed for shore. I drove and was razzed that I was driving the dinghy just as "straight" as the sailboat ! And to think I have to put up with these people another 3 weeks ! :) The minute I stepped foot on Epi Island I knew I would have many great picture opportunities. What a gorgeous place! Turquoise water, black (well greyish) sand, colorful fishing boats on shore, huge trees and lots of flowers.
We thought if we were lucky we could buy a a cold beer or have some lunch with/from the villagers. One of the 1st women I met was standing next to an old wooden table which was next to a primitive looking shack. She had cooked a massive pot of rice (enough to feed a small army) and was dishing it into large bowls to be distributed throughout the village. I also noticed a school in the distance. I asked her how many people lived in the village and she didn't know but she said she was in charge
of cooking all the rice and it was a lot.

In the meantime, the rest of the crew had found a building that looked like a local "food gathering" place or maybe a restaurant. Then I saw a sign stating Vanuatu Tusker beer, rum, Fanta and Sprite, so we knew we were in the right place. A woman come in and when I asked her if we could buy drinks, she said we had to wait for Tasso, the manager. Tasso ran 4 bungalows rentals for tourists and the restaurant. He told us they had caught a lot of lobster this morning which were suppose to be a welcome
dinner for some Japanese tourists. Turns out they would not be coming tonight, would we care to come for lobster tonight? Well, it took about 2 seconds to decide. What could be better than a fresh lobster dinner cooked in a traditional Ni-Vanuatu village by the local people? We were to come back at 5 pm for "frozen" beers, as Tasso called them, and some Kava and then dinner. I looked around the group and it seemed like a few of them were a lot more excited about drinking the "dishwater" than
I was.

Tasso asked us if we wanted a tour of his yard, which was just behind the restaurant. He had a pineapple orchard - pineapples 10 pounds in size, the likes I had never seen before. He also grew vanilla beans, Kava, pommelo fruit (like oranges) Ni-Vanuatu cabbage, papaya, mango and more. We would be enjoying many of these freshly picked tonight. We went back to the boat excited that this wasn't a commercialized island but one of very traditional villagers that we could interact with for a day.

Back to the boat for naps (for most) and some more snorkeling for me. I was very tired but I couldn't bear the thought of losing the few precious hours we had left. Besides, deep down I was hoping to see another dugong or some more turtles.

We arrived for pre-dinner beer at 5 pm and found out from Tasso that we needed to have Kava before beer and before dinner. I had already tried a small amount in Fiji and it tasted terrible (kinda like jagbombs!) and had no effect on me so I didn't see the point but then I thought about what a crew "bonding event" this could be. It reminded me of when my curling team was in Grafton, ND and we had to have a team bonding tequila shooter and how I hated the taste of tequila !! So I decided not to
be a party pooper. Dennis has already written about the Kava experience so I won't get into it here.

We sat outside, had a cocktail and watched a gorgeous sunset before dinner. The the evening feast included two very large platters of lobsters (10 for 6 people), yam patties, island cabbage, fruit kabobs, a very large sliced pineapple, like we'd seen in Tasso's garden earlier, and lemon meringue pie !! Talk about a feast ! All this for 1000 Vatu ($10.00) per person! The Japanese' loss was definitely our gain !

It's 10:30 pm and the boat is completely quiet. The only sound I hear is the occasional splash of a jumping fish or a curious turtle. It has been a very long, absolutely perfect day starting at 3 am. I'm not sure why I'm staying awake since I haven't slept all day but I think I needed some time to reflect. I am sitting in the cockpit with my headlamp on and everything beyond my light is pitch black. The crescent moon is visible, the only thing providing light tonight as the stars are blanketed
by the clouds. There is a nice breeze and as I sit here wondering how to describe this exceptional day, I hear music coming from ashore, the crystal clear sounds of a guitar and the occasional heavy breathing from below as everyone else is fast asleep. Does life get any better than this?

The prairie girl at sea !

Walking the plank in Port Vila

Don't get me wrong. We are not a bunch of drunks or druggies on board, but we are sailors after a fashion, and lets face it, a sailors reputation for drink in port is well earned. In our case, I am not sure, but I would guess it's a combination of relief from making it safely to shore after one passage at sea together with the dread for heading off on the next. Drinking folly starts on board with the aforementioned cases and cases of beer put on board by Al Shultz's earlier described magnificence.
And the liquor cabinet is reasonably stocked with a tantalizing array of Scotch, Rye, Gin, Rum, Baileys, my favorite, jack Daniels Sour Mash Whiskey, and few other odd concoctions that I steer well clear of. Afterall, what self respecting sailor would ever find him or her self sipping sweet vermouth? Oh well, I guess our liquor cabinet proves that it takes all kinds to sail a boat. But the on board supply is not the problem, really, the problem lies ashore and to all the temptations there on. And
here in Vanuatu in particular, there is the legal drug of choice that adds to the mix - kava.

At this point I should explain that in our present space in Port Vila Harbour we are tied stern to the dock, in the Mediterranean style. This means we have taken the considerable trouble to back the boat up to the concrete sea wall, tie our bow to a mooring buoy out front and then tie our stern in reasonable proximity to the sea wall with our stoutest mooring lines. Because the sea goes up and down quite significantly with the tides, the span between the end of the boat is kept a safe distance from
the dock for the sake of preserving the boat's back end. The span is more than a sober man can leap, and only a little less than sober man would attempt to leap. The whole configuration is complicated by the fact of the tide. We are either leaping up for the boat, or down quite a distance for the boat.

The time honored solution for this treacherous condition is to have a "plank" span the divide. In this case, the plank is supplied by the Marina operator. I guess lumber is in short supply in Vanuatu, because, though our plank is about 16 feet long, it only 6 inches wide and less than 2 inches thick. It has a nice bounce to it too, enough to temp the rash into diving board antics, or scare the more cautious crew into a quick tiptoe down its length - as in - "the faster I go, the less time I have
to fall in". True enough, but it also depends on one's sobriety. Which is the point exactly - going to town across the plank is one thing, coming home later is another. One last point about the plank: It is an easy path for rats, cockroaches and other vermin to make their way aboard, as are the mooring lines. We could elevate the plank and put cones on the mooring lines, but we are not that organized.

I should also say a word about -- kava. Here in Vanuatu, kava is reputed to be strongest in the world, including Fiji. And there is lots of it around, all legally served up in "kava cafes". Located in darkly lit streets and lanes, the kava café's are to be found here and there in the city's neighborhoods. They are found wedged the between the simple one room houses, built from cinder block walls and tin roofs. A red or green or blue light marks the spot where the cafe shack and dark dispensary squats
out back. Out front, men hang around on the dark streets, speaking in hushed tones while draped over an assortment of old cars and trucks. All around the cafe, men slouch silently in chairs and stools. From within the café shack, a silent man or woman dispenses dose after dose of kava in unwashed bowls to an endless string of returning, silent customers. It is dispensed for the equivalent of 50 Vatu (about 50 cents) for a half bowl and 100 Vatu for a full bowl. There is a kind of hush surrounding
the cafe, except for the dreadful hawking and spitting sounds patrons make as they do their best to cope with the bitter after taste. Tonight for our visit, I was glad it was dark, because the trampled dirt under foot is a mess. It would be a dreadful place to be without shoes.

Some say drinking Kava is like drinking water from a mud puddle. I think it's far worse. But tonight the second bowl of brown liquid went down more easily than the first and the reward was a lovely body buzz. The first bowl numbed my throat and mouth, anesthetizing my taste buds. The second bowl (both were whole bowls or doubles if your are curious) pretty much did to my brain and whole body what the first did to my mouth. By the end of the second bowl I was starting to the see a whole new world
of textures and colors - "gee I never noticed how beautiful that old broken down truck is". I haven't yet taken on a third bowl but I would imagine I would look a lot more like the majority of patrons - lying about in chairs, silently, some pain in their lives temporarily forgotten, the world at bay for an hour or so.

It used to be this mild narcotic was a ceremonial drink, offered by the chief, in the round or square house to assembled villagers. Men would sit alone in a circle drinking it, because the women were forbidden to drink kava. The men were instructed to sit in silence and listen to the kava. Then, they would speak with perspective on a community issue. But today kava café's seem to be the main source for a fix of the potent drug without the benefit of ceremony, contact or context. What a shame. The
cafes seem illicit, somehow like a place for lost souls, without any signs of joy. Even the usual friendliness of these wonderful people is subdued. But kava is a lovely private experience and kind of fun for the tourist when mixed with alcohol.

But I digress. Last night, I fell into an exhausted sleep on the boat settee around 8 pm. When I awoke around 10pm, I toyed with the idea of going down the plank to find the rest of the crew. But as I lay there in the dark and deserted boat, I thought of my freshly laundered bed sheets and how wonderful they would feel without the usual crust of salt. The decision was made. I crawled into my berth and went instantly back to sleep. Around 3:30 I awoke and darted into the head, noting there was no
sign of Matt in his berth - not at all and usual thing in port. As I was coming out I heard a commotion on the dock and poked my head out the companionway just in time to watch Matt approach the plank. He was saying good night to his party companion - the skipper from the boat next door - and then he turned his attention to the considerable task of getting back on board over the plank. Like a novice pilot he lined up his approach to the plank, but was off on his alignment. He tipped to the left
and fell off the plank, making a missed approach, but mercifully, he fell only onto the dock, having only made the first few feet of the plank. Unhurt and un-phased he made a second attempt, this time on his bum, his legs straddling the plank and his hands humping him up the plank and few inches at a time. That's the thing about Matt, he has an egoless way of getting the job done - there would be no tipsy bravado in a walk up the plank in his unstable state. Instead, he crabbed his way up the plank
mumbling something about "I am nasty old cockroach and I'm climbing onto your boat".
And so it goes in Port Vila as we wind down our short stay here. It has been heaps of fun, far too much beer and kava but we must move on if we are to cover the distance to Darwin before cyclone season draws too near. We will leave behind the cold shore side beer, the kava and Matt will undoubtedly leave behind some broken hearts. Now that we have all the crew safely aboard, tomorrow we will toss off our plank and set sail for the north on our first leg to Darwin.
Wish us god's speed!
C. Cresswell

Darwin Bound

Hello world!
Yikes what a struggle this morning with the radio/email. To give you an idea of the possible challenges, imagine this. You have three PCs and they all have to be working at once and working to together. Put that in your Microsoft and see what happens! In the case of our ship board radio/email system its a laoptop, a radio and a special Pactor modem that must all work together. This is the second time I am typing this blog post because the computer crashed in the middle of it all. Why do we take
these damn things to sea with us!

Anyway, now to the news. BTW, we heard by shortwave radio, the US has a new President elect. Seems they finally got it right! Hope its not too late for the US and the world economy. I digress.

Our course to Darwin has us arching WNW across the Corral Sea Basin toward the top of Australia. Now that we a clear of Vanuatu, we will sail across the bald open sea for 1300 miles, headed for the entrance to Torres Strait. In all this way there will not be an island, a reef or other hazard, except maybe weather. We will be within 100 miles of Papeau New Guinea when we enter the pass over the top of Australia's great barrier reef headed for the Arafura Sea, where we will find Darwind on the north
coast of Australia. The pass over the reef is about 190 long, reef strewn and twisted through islands, coral reefs and lots of large tankers. Two sailboats have been lost in the approaches to this passage this year, so you can be sure we will be hyper vigilant! And it will be hot, hot, hot.

But today has dawned clear and bright after a moonlite, starry night. The wind is at our backs and the smell of coffee is in the air. What could be better!?

"EPI"cure fpr sunburn (Kava experiences)

As an active participant and mostly observer.

During the course of our stays in Fiji and Vanuatu we have all had the opportunity to take in some of the local culture and partake in some rather unusual celebrations. The first tasting (generous description) was at Plantation Cove where a large Kave bowl was set up near the beach with a community bowl for dipping out your portion of something that looked like dirty dish water. Since there were many vacationers at the beach they might have been trying to stretch the Kava but when the 6 of us (crew
from Hawaii, Rita and myself) got there, there was plenty of the stuff to go around. It tasted (as Rita described it as some old Chinese herb medicine)and left a mild tingling on your tongue with a little buzz. The second tasting was in Port Villa where Cress, Matt, Rita and myself went to the chief's Kava Bar. It was a tin shack (8X12) with a bunch of wooden benches and chairs scattered around it. For 100 Vats ($1Cdn) you got a somewhat thicker bowl of dishwater (double dos). Both Rita and I had
a bowl full while our courageous captain and First mate had a couple of bowls. There were about 20 men standing around the Kava Bar drinking and spitting. After each bowl full the men went around the side of the Bar and spit so much that ground was wet (rather gross). Anyway it was a much stronger taste?? than the first experience. Maybe it was because we had already been expecting the taste that it seemed stronger. So after our drinks off we went down the road looking for a place it eat. We happened
upon a open store where Cress started inspecting all the things (he liked the colors of the merchandise) that were for sale and decided the boat needed more storage containers. After a nice dinner where we tried flying fox, and pigeon we went off looking for another Kava Bar (Blue Light Bar) and the boys had another couple of hits of Kava but nothing really happened during the walk back to the boat. Boys seemed very jovial as we walked. The final tasting occurred in Paradise Cove on Epi where the
owner sent out his granddaughter to get us a 2l bottle of Kava from a local bar. He instructed us that we had to have the Kava before we had our lobster dinner. All 6 of us had a bowlful but the Cap and First mate felt they had to finish the bottle as we did pay for it. The stuff was much stronger as all of us felt a bit of a tingle from it and not just on our tongues. As all of us enjoyed an absolutely fabulous dinner both Cress and Matt were giddy and saying they were seeing double. Cress had to
stagger out of the cafe to relieve his stomach and when he returned his whole conplection had changed. Cress had sunburned his head and shoulders while swimming with the turtles and degongs but after his Kava experience his skin was white as a sheet and stayed that way for about a 1/2 hour while he ate another meal of lobster. All of the blood from his head and shoulders seemed to have drained away. Matt on the other hand was very quiet and played with his food trying to focus on cutting his lobster
(while seeing double I would guess). Both were having a good time while the rest of us just pigged out on the great food. The Kava effect lasted about 2 hours and they were both half normal by the end of the evening.Matt wanted to buy some of the powder for the boat but was unsuccessful (Thank God). We are off to Darwin today but with no wind we are sitting about 5 miles off of Epi sweating to death.
Someone will write of our snorkeling with the turtles and degongs.

Dennis

Well...now we're movin!!!

Matt here again,

Finally after a day of puttering around the open seas, with confused trade winds and washing machine like swells, we're finally moving. Since about six this morning the SE trades have settled in, gradually picking up in intensity throughout the day and finally settling in around 15 knots in the afternoon. The boat was moving at a steady 6-7 knots in and around the afternoon as well. My watch fell between six and nine in the evening and the winds really started to pick up then. At around seven
thirty the winds picked up and settled in the 20 knot range, and with both the genoa and the main sail working the boat was cruising in the high seven to eight knot range, with Natasha keeping the boat as steady as she could on the broad reach point of sail!!! The winds got up to 23 knots and the Genoa was rolled in. We're now sailing under the power of the lone main sail, but still trucking along at around 7 knots!

The new crew is beginning to see what it's like to sail in the open sea with the waves slamming the boat side to side, although today seems to be more gentle than most of the days on the Hawaii - Fiji trip. But, that doesn't mean a lot of spills, breaks, and a fair share of green faces didn't occur. Actually today was one of the worst of all. It all started in the can locker. We had placed a massive jar of olives in there after we had opened it a week or so ago. I was reading in the main salon
and heard Cress releasing profanities in the galley while staring at the broken jar leaking all over the locker, pouring out into the galley and all over the locker and floor below. Bob, Cress and I were just finished cleaning the over whelming olive smelling mess (by the way I HATE olives) when Dennis' fishing rod started going nuts. Lure one was gone! Within a matter of seconds the fish had ripped the 40 lb test line faster than we could get to the rod, and by the time we got there the line,
lure and a chance at some fresh dinner was gone! Oh well, we had another line in the water....well, that one was gone too! Big fish I guess. So far, one olive spill and two lost lures. Finally, Cress and I were making some pasta for dinner. I went up in the cockpit to get away from the hellacious heat of the galley only to hear the rubbermade container filled with pasta slam to the floor, releasing the green, red, and yellow spiral pasta all over the floor! Well better than olive juice! And
of course, as I'm writing this we have Rita in the galley spilling her tea just to top it off! Luckily enough no one got sick today but a lot of us were certainly close! Thanks Stugeron!!! I'm sure there was more today but I can't think of it. The good news is we're moving along at some good speeds, and we're only two more sleeps from Tanna, Vanuatu and some live volcano action!

Talk to you soon, Matt

Was it worth it??

Hello dear friends,

After a roly poly night and a pretty tense morning, with a strong wind blowing and large swells throwing us about, Captain Cress maneuvered us into the tranquil waters of Port Resolution, Tanna Island, Vanuatu on Tuesday, October 28. The sail took us 4 days in total. We only saw one other ship along the way from Fiji. What a lovely little piece of Paradise Tanna Island is. Calm waters, lush green hills, palms swaying in the gentle breeze... There are several small villages and a school with 150
students from K to Gr. 8. The people are very poor, with little more than their small hut, garden, and a few animals. But they are very friendly and welcoming. And the scenery is breathtaking! The village of Port Resolution is preparing for a week long celebration (150th anniversary of the Presbyterian Church) and they expect 1000 visitors from all over Vanuatu. As we walked by, we could see women sweeping or raking their dirt paths or cutting their grass (with machetes).

While on Tanna, we met several other yachters/cruisers. What a friendly, helpful community they are! Our second day there, we took a truck ride up to Mt. Yasur, one of the world's most accessible, active volcanoes. We were fortunate, as the evening was clear so visibility was excellent. After a very bumpy ride we walked the last 100 or so metres to the top of the volcano. As darkness enveloped us, we saw not one, but two caldera, each spewing red hot lava. Occasionally, there would be a large,
thundering thud and huge pieces of molten lava, some the size of cars, would catapult skyward. We can hardly wait to show off and share our many photos and videos. It really was like watching a special National Geographic programme, except this was in real life! I am a great fan of Vancouver's summer fireworks displays on English Bay, but this was so much more fantastic!! We all felt very privileged to witness this amazing wonder of Nature!

The next morning we set sail for Port Vila, Efate Island. It was a "robust" sail of about 24 hours. We will likely stay in Port Vila till Tuesday morning. If you ask any of us, "Was it worth it?" you would get a resounding "YES" (with maybe just a tad less enthusiasm from our Captain who got no sleep last night)!

Life on board has been so much fun! We newbies worry that we must be driving poor Cress to distraction because we are just so slow to "get it", but he is an amazing captain and teacher!! We try to make up a little for what we lack in sailing savy by feeding the crew decently. But even that varies from pretty darned good meals to barely being able to pour water from the kettle into the coffee pot! But I guess that's life -- it can't all be smooth sailing!

Life is good!
Rita