Drew came back to the boat from the store the other day with a package of extra large diapers. The menstrual gods were raining cramps upon me at the time so I knew there was nothing I had to tell him. Was there something he had to tell me? Was I in the dark this entire time and somehow he’d hidden that he was in fact a replica of the fella back home who I believe is currently pregnant with his second child? For those of us who didn’t have the pleasure to know Drew as an infant child, he was a fat-tay!!! Ten pounds, ten ounces at birth so if he did in fact have something to tell me then that would explain the extra large size part. Lucky for us both the diapers were to soak up a little grease spill in the bilge. My boyfriend is in deed all man. Whew, thank heavens : )
Lots and lots of boat projects going on. The water line on the boat continues to rise daily as we rid Dosia of the clutter she’s accumulated over the past five years. We sent all we could spare food, clothing, and tool wise to the victims of the quake and tsunami in American Samoa. Tsunami warnings are becoming quite common these days and while we’ve avoided any potential dangers here thus far, it’s still scary and causing increasing eagerness to head south. We said farewell to another couple of cruising yachts just this morning and watched as they pointed their bows westward to navigate the few miles of calm waterways that separate the islands here all the way to the wide open waters that would eventually carry them southwest 1100 miles to New Zealand. We bid them safe seas and will tune into the single side ban each morning and afternoon to do checkins. Our family of friends on Zen made landfall in New Zealand this morning. We were so happy to know that their journey was a safe one while mildly jealous that they are already done with a trip that most still in the harbor here are loathing. I continue to try and motivate my attitude of the coming passage in a more positive direction. Sometimes it is quite hard when you hear those around you saying how brutal it can be. I know that in Drew’s hands I am in good, safe care and I trust him 100%. This will, however, be my longest length of time at sea (roughly 8 to 10 days) and I am having a hard time getting myself amped up for it. As most sailors will tell you, the passages are often just a means to an end, a way to get from here to there, and very few actually enjoy them. Im just gonna have to put my big gal panties on and suck it up. It will be my last passage for years to come so the least I can do is try my best to enjoy it. I do have two nights in the Sky Tower hotel in downtown Auckland to look forward to so I’ll just keep that tucked safely in the front of my mind when Drew wakes me up for yet another night watch in cold temps.
In any spare time we can find away from boat projects we mosy our way out to a nearby anchorage and relish the peace and quiet. Shortbus’ return has made getting around so much easier. We were anchored in Port Maurelle just last week and took her a few football field lengths around the corner to Swallows Cave and then to deserted beaches so I could do some last effort shell collecting. We’ll continue to work on Dosia everyday until Drew says we’re done and then will test her out after her “diet” to see if the loss of weight affects her performance. Drew thinks she’ll be in top condition and is anxious to see how well she moves on the trip south. By all means, if a little weight loss will get us there quicker then what else do I need to get rid of? I’m willing to make sacrifices as long as it has nothing to do with my footwear!
Category: Sailing
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Diapers on Dosia (?)
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Dosia, Bluewater Cruising Sailboat For Sale
I put off writing this blog post for the past several months but alas, it is time. The need to admit the facts not only to the readers and fans but to myself has finally come. At some point next year, we will return to the states for what I like to call “a nice, long while.” In the next couple of weeks, Dosia will enter the international yacht market; for sale to anyone, anywhere. She is my finest work of art; a modest American production boat turned world cruising yacht. November will mark my 7th year of ownership, a fair amount of time to get to know and fall in love with a boat. She’s carried me halfway around the world in safety and comfort and for that, she will always remain a part of me.
My choice to leave the cruising lifestyle is a mixed bag of wants and needs and obligations. I want a family and a career. I need money (for a bigger boat one day). And I feel obligated to my parents and my grandmother, who deserve to see that the time and money spent on my rearing was not wasted, and to Margie, who without hestitation left behind her huge circle of family and friends to join me on this adventure. It is not a sad time at all. I’m 31. I will have spent four years off and on traveling the world. I crossed the Pacific Ocean and saw places and things most people only dream about. I have no doubt I will return to do it again, most likely more than once in the years to come. My hope is that by returning now and starting to build a life at home I can make it back out here sooner, rather than later. And that when I come, I have with me my family, my new big-ass boat with room for visitors, and the same spirit of adventure I live with now.
And there it is. The plan. En famille to the next stage of my life. As for now, we’re still heading to NZ. We have no intention of stopping this adventure early! New Zealand and Australia are both on the list of places to see before we return to the states. If the boat sells before then, as it will be priced to do, we’ll move onto land and continue our travels till it is time to head home.
Got an opinion on this? Please, please, please leave a comment on this post. I’d love to know what others have to say.
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Pick a number | Cruising Vava’u
We finally made it out of town! With a borrowed dinghy and some good friends we cruised out of Neiafu and now sit somewhat safely anchored in the bay of Hunga (#13). I say somewhat safely since around 1AM I felt a change in the swinging of the boat and started to hear the chain stretching itself around a large rock somewhere 60-70 feet below us. This morning I get the sense we’re swinging around and around and around that rock tightening the noose. I’ll have to figure something out since my scuba tank is completely empty and 60-70′ is on the deep end of free diving for me.
I’d love to say we kicked Zen’s tail on the way down here but come on…there is little Dosia can do against a 48′ catamaran! I’m still shocked by the speed I can manage to pull out of her though. We were right at 7 knots downwind the whole way and I never put the main up. That was actually the first bay-like sailing I’ve ever done on Dosia. I never sailed around Charleston harbor before I left. I cruised right out the jetties and never looked back! So this type of smooth water sailing is new to me. I even did my first ever race Friday night on board Flashback (a Choate 40) with Geoff, Tom, and Allen. We came in third after knocking the socks off some Kiwis who seemed none to happy about it.
You may have noticed I included a number after I wrote where we are anchored. All the major anchorages in the Vava’u group have been assigned numbers by the charter boat fleet over the years. So now instead of jumping on the radio and trying to pronounce something like Lua ui Vaha, you can call up your buddies and tell ’em “yeah man, I’m at 35.” It’s actually a great system for a place like this.
Night before last we attended the hospital benefit function at Aquarium Cafe. It was a big event for this place. I’d say 400 people or more were in attendance. It was a traditional Tongan feast with dancers and a huge buffet. All proceeds went to the hospital in hopes of getting the anesthesia department back up and running. The company was wonderful, the dancing was decent if not hilarious (once the town drunks joined the festivities), but the food left something to be desired. Especially when it’s dark and you can’t tell what’s on the end of your fork as your hand reluctantly guides it toward your mouth.
We’ll be out for a few days before heading back to town for the start of Regatta Vava’u in which Dosia will be entered. We ordered our official Dosia regatta tees and Margie is challenging everyone in town to beat her at the CORNHOLE tournament on Monday! Yes, CORNHOLE! One of the official tailgating games of the southern US has somehow transplanted itself into the middle of the South Pacific. We’ve not met one person who has a clue what it is so we’re shocked to see it appear as part of the regatta. Maybe this could work to her advantage.
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Neiafu Harbor, Vava’u, Kingdom of Tonga
What a cool place. We cruised in early yesterday morning after probably the best sail we’ve ever had. We flew the spinnaker right up until dark the day we left Niue ghosting along at 7 knots. The next morning I flew it again for a couple of hours till I started seeing 9.5 knots. I figured maybe it was a good idea to keep the mast standing upright and I took it down. We stopped briefly at an anchorage right around the corner from the main harbor (Lotuma Bay #5) to take showers, clean up the boat, and give a couple of other guys the chance to check in and get off the wharf before we made our triumphant entrance. We could already hear our friends from Zen and Honeymoon on the radio so we gave a call and announced our presence. It’s was like entering a reunion. All the boats we’ve met along the way and all the people whose voices we’ve heard and never met all seem to be here. Even Jeff and Julie from Flashback who we affectionately call Ma and Pa after someone mistaked us for being their children! Check in was relatively simple. The Quarantine and Health officials were standing at the dock when we tied up so they came aboard first. I handed over the papers they needed with a couple of candy bars and some diet coke hoping to speed up the process. Twenty minutes later, paperwork done, we couldn’t figure out why these guy were still sitting on the boat. They were thumbing through some of Margie’s magazines, hanging out like they were right at home. I guess they needed a few minutes to study up on the latest Cosmo and Vogue before they decided it was time to go and finally they dawdled off the boat. Next came Customs. Simple. Then I took a walk to the bank and Immigration while Margie, sitting on the boat at the city dock, somehow ended up with some fresh bread after a local paddled by and made her a deal. Ten minutes later we were tied to a mooring owned by the Aquarium Cafe with three dinghies and all our friends hanging off the side of Dosia. Nice.
Then came our first Friday night in Neiafu. Picture it. A georgeous harbor surrounded by hills and mangroves. A hundred plus sailboats, some charter, but mostly cruising yachts from all over the globe. Huge multimillion dollars catamarans with paid captains all the way down to 27′ single handers. Converted race boats, sleek lined Italian yachts, refurbished classics, and junkers. It doesn’t matter. On Friday night, everyone gathers at the Mermaid, home of the Vava’u Yacht Club for drinks. Right on the water with its own dinghy dock. T-shirts, burgees, and flags hanging from the ceiling. Happy hour prices on a selection of beers from Oz land, NZ, the local Ikale and Maka brews. Heaven on earth. After losing hope in French Polynesia and the Cooks, here it is. The perfect image of a south seas sailor bar in its truest form. It still exists. Where else can you find a 70 year old single-hander with a white beard in crocs and a tie-dye shirt arguing with a pressed linen German couple off a sleek 60 footer about the finer aspects of rum distillation? Classic.
When you wake up in the morning and can’t remember what you had for dinner or if you even ate dinner or where you might have tried if you were so inclined, you had a good night. If it weren’t for the missing cash, I might have thought we missed my favorite meal of the day. I know it was pasta and I’m positive it had bacon in it because that’s something I rarely forget. Each bacon experience should be cherished. I haven’t a clue what Margie ordered but that’s alright…neither does she. We haven’t had a night like that in a long, long time and even though I felt like a million bucks this morning when I woke, I would have preferred to not wake up belching vanilla infused rum. In order to not take responsibility for the over-indulgence, I need to blame someone else. So Flashback, you’re it. It’s all your fault. 🙂