Get Lost On Purpose

Category: Vava’u

Accidently Swimming with the Whales

We received word that the boat thought lost on that reef in Fiji has been pulled off the reef and is sitting (with a few leaks) on a mooring at Mago Island. Nice. Even nicer is that Mago Island belongs to Mel Gibson and the guy who hit the reef is holed up on the island with Mel’s chef catering to him. On to other news…

We’re in the out islands of Vava’u again after a short overnight break in town last weekend. We went back to renew our visas and pick up some things at the store. Then we realized Aquarium Cafe was giving out cruiser crack (the internet) for free and it started raining so we figured “what the hell” and stayed the night. I pulled an all-nighter working on the Dosia-for-Sale page and on Saturday afternoon we headed back out again, first to Port Murelle and then onto Anchorage #16 on Sunday. Monday, we joined a few other boats on the beach and headed across the reef to do some snorkeling on what we heard was one of the best reefs in Vava’u. Tom from Zen and I spent some time spearfishing with no luck while Marge, looking spiffy in my wetsuit, and several others snorkeled the reef. The colors were better than anything we’ve seen in the South Pacific SO FAR. It was nice to see a healthy reef again; one unaffected by El Nino or the Crown of Thorn starfish. The water temp is still cool so after an hour or so, everyone meandered back to their boats. I hadn’t had enough so Tom let me borrow his big speargun and I headed back over.

I took a shot on a nice parrot fish and nailed it with a perfect kill-shot. Problem was the spear tip was loose. It popped off and my beautiful fish took a bloody nose dive into a deep hole in the reef. First things first, where did that brand new tip land? Is it in the hole? In the fish? On the reef? After a few minutes of searching the area I sensed I wasn’t alone. A large white tip shark had joined me in the search, only he wasn’t so interested in the expensive new spear tip. I backed off and let him circle the blood cloud rising from the reef. A school of large snapper and grouper joined him for the feast and all I could do was sit there and drool. Finally, one of the snapper starts picking at a piece of flesh sitting on the reef and BINGO…there’s the tip. Now I had everything I needed, an intact speargun and a beefy dead fish, only I couldn’t get to either because of the shark. And then there was the plethora of other fish who’d shown up. How frustrating! After a couple of minutes I could tell the shark wasn’t leaving anytime soon so I’d have to bully my way underneath him and get the tip back. I loaded the gun with the blunt tip (just in case) and went in for it. No problem. It must have been my manly aura. Yeah right. More likely it was my combination of jerry rigged weight belt and mismatched gloves. He figured I was more desperate than he was, but he still wasn’t going to give up that fish.

So off I went, gun in hand, loaded and ready for a second chance. That’s when I heard it. When you hear a whale underwater, there is no mistaking it. The sound of a whale song must be engrained in the human mind. Maybe you’ve heard it on your relaxing sleep CD, or “Planet Earth”, or from Dory in “Finding Nemo.” You’ve surely heard it somewhere. What I heard was a mother and a calf. I took a look across the surface and sure enough, there they were, about 75 yards away over the deep water flipping and playing. After watching them for a while I figure what the hell and start off toward them. About 25 yards out, I look up to gather my bearings and they were gone. Flipping my fins, I periscoped out of the water as high as possible and looked around. Nothing. Oh well, it was a long shot anyways. I dropped back beneath the surface and was about to swim back toward the reef when out of the darkness, two massive shadows came right at me. Holy shit. I’m not going to swim with the whales, they’re coming to swim with me.

The calf seemed to be leading its mother right up into the shallows of the reef. And by her constant chatter, I got the idea she wasn’t all that thrilled with the idea. At this point I’m literally backpedaling away from them. Common sense dictates that you never get between a whale mom and its calf. I’d guessimate they were 35 feet away and coming fast. I backed over the reef as far as I figured they’d come and hung there, staring in complete awe at this wildlife moment. People pay ridiculous amounts of money to do what I was doing for free. As they passed close by, singing at the top of their lungs, all I could think was “man, I wish Marge was here.” I knew she’d be so upset to miss it. After they moved off to the deeper water, I turned and headed back to the spot on the reef where I’d lost my fish. The shark was gone but a five foot barracuda had moved in. I couldn’t see the fish in the reef anywhere. Several grouper and snapper were still hanging out though and I couldn’t resist. I dove down, took a long distance shot at a decent size grouper, and hit him dead on. It was a kill shot but the spear hadn’t gone all the way through so as I swam back to the shallows, he popped off the tip. Luckily I was able to reach out and grab him with my mismatched ghetto glove. Just as I did I saw the flash. That damn white tip had popped out of a ravine in reef and was coming at me fast. Oh no, I don’t think so. I held the fish out of the water and literally beat the white tip back with the gun all the way to the exit point. I climbed up on the rocks and tossed the fish as far back from the waterline as possible. All I could do was lay there, laughing, adrenaline pumping from all I had seen in the last 15 minutes. That was one hell of an afternoon.

Later that night, we gathered on the big ship Karma for a huge feast including my hard fought catch. Zen had actually witness my encounter with the whales from afar and Tom couldn’t believe he’d decided to sit the afternoon out. I was beat and after a huge meal and a glass of scotch I was done for the night. The next morning we moved down to anchorage #31, Maninita Island, the southern most anchorage in the Vava’u group (photo below). And here we sit again, tucked in next to Zen in yet another tiny, blue, South Pacific lagoon. Man, I’m gonna miss this life.

September 23, 2009
Our Dinghy Rides the Short Bus

There are certainly worse places in the world to hang out and wait for your dinghy to catch up with you. We’re in the out islands of Vava’u again; currently in anchorage #11, Tapana Island. Until this point in my sailing career I’ve not felt the need to give the dinghy a nickname but after a saga like ours has seen, I’m thinking it deserves one. We’ve seen and heard names like Splashback, Monkey Business, Red Rocket, and Cadillac in recent months. My pick is Short Bus. You figure it out.

The decision has been made to pass on the islands of Fiji this year. We don’t know if and when the dinghy may arrive from Niue (we still may have to go get it ourselves) and we’re quite happy here in Tonga. There’s still two more island groups within Tonga to visit and looking at the chart of Fiji, we’d barely scrape the surface with its 300 islands and strict cruising laws. I don’t really mind. Hopefully they can get a new government settled in and we’ll make it through there on our next cruise before another military coup takes over. And there’s always the possibility of sailing back up there next year so I can market the boat to boat NZ and Australia without paying any sort of import duty. So we’re here in Tonga for another month and we’ll start looking for a weather window to New Zealand. We certainly won’t be alone. Kena, Follow You Follow Me, Karma, Carinthia, and many many others will be right here with us. Our second family on Zen, who is currently anchored about 100 feet away, will be moving on earlier than the rest as they have a huge refit planned for the boat in Whangarei and need to get there early. Luckily they are more accustomed to cold weather being from Rhode Island. We’ll be seeing them again on the big island.

The pilot berth is filled with crap to sell or give away and I offloaded three huge bags of trash off the boat this week. I think the waterline rose an inch. I dunno what I was thinking with some of the crap I brought on this boat. Did I not think they would sell paintbrushes else where in the world? Five foot SS Piano hinges…seriously? How many times have I used this sleeping bag? And when exactly was I planning on creating and using all those CD labels? Umm..never. The important stuff stays; the spare autopilot, the 10 gallons of oil, and the Wicked Weasel catalogue.

As I sit here and type this post, Tom from Zen just came over the net and reported that a boat was lost yesterday on an uncharted reef near Fiji. LaurieKouek, a single hander, who left here a couple of days ago lost his boat but luckily not his life because he happened to be sailing near the family on Bravado who was able to pick him up. It’s a little crazy to think that within a couple hundred miles of us, there is a guy working to salvage what’s left of his life by picking through the wreckage of his boat. I have no house, no car, no furniture, and barely any clothing that’s not on board. If I were to lose Dosia I would lose practically everything I own. It’s kind of a ghostly reminder.

Here’s the cordinates on that reef:

17 23’S 179 08’W near Mago Island

September 16, 2009
Update from the 2009 Regatta Vava’u Cornhole Champs : )

The passport prizes have been rewarded, the free internet available during the regatta is long gone, and the harbor here in Vava’u is slowly beginning to empty. This morning we said farewell and wished safe seas to our dear friends, Geoff & Julie, on s/v Flashback. I knew it was going to be hard to say adios to them but it was especially hard to hug Julie goodbye. For me, having Julie around was like having one of my greatest friends, Courtney, right here by my side. Their advice, their ability to listen, and this incredible sarcasm that they both possess is like one in the same and I have told Julie so many, many times. I will greatly miss talking, laughing, sharing glasses of wine, and just being girly for a bit with her. They’re both just amazing, amazing people and whether it be New Zealand to ring in the New Year or another year further down the road, I know we will see them again and I am already looking forward to that reunion…

For those of you who have not heard the news yet, by the grace of the sea gods watching over us, our dinghy has been found! A local fisherman found our beloved water craft off the coast of Niue, an island we had sailed away from just a few days before. The dinghy was upside down and we assume it flipped over the reef leaving Beveridge, making the entire journey to Niue’s coast with the outboard underwater. For roughly 15 days it traveled approximately 140 miles and luckily for us, right into the hands of a very honest, local fisherman. (added by Drew…here he is! The hero! His name is Ape (pronounced Ah Pay) and he is from the village of Vaiea on Niue.)

Once turned over to the Niue police, our dinghy was impounded and placed in its own jail cell. Literally locked up for misbehavior. The good news reached us via Marc & Jane, s/v Imagine, who heard about the dinghy while they themselves were in Niue. Drew and I have learned in our time here on the water not to ever get your hopes up about anything so until we made contact with the commodore of the Yacht Club in Niue and exchanged serial numbers, we weren’t believing it. Low and behold, turns out it was ours, in good shape, and the local fisherman was even able to get the outboard engine up and running again! A reward was sent via Western Union here in Tonga, obviously to be handed over to the guy who found the dinghy, and a ceremony took place to officially release the dinghy from the Niue Police Department into the care of the Yacht Club. Drew and I have bailed out the dinghy before but we’ve never had to bail it out in this way! Now we sit and wait in hopes that a sailing vessel will come through Niue large enough to throw our dinghy up on board and bring it the 250 miles to us here in Tonga. Jokes were even made that they could throw it off the wharf in Niue and it’d find it’s way back to us here and of course now we can laugh at that. Need be, we’ll return to pick it up but chances are in our favor that someone will be able to bring it with them. Drew and I would like to extend our sincerest thanks and gratitude to the fisherman, the Niue police, the “Imaginary” family, and especially Keith Vial, the commodore of the Yacht Club who spent a lot of time going back and forth with us via email to get this all straightened out. We cannot begin to tell you the relief you have brought us and we are so incredibly appreciative!

So for now Drew and I will sit patiently in Tonga awaiting news that the dinghy is on its way. As I write I sit and watch as Drew slowly picks through cabinets and cubby holes taking pictures of all that will be sold both separately and with the boat. I have to admit his last post about the boat going on the market drew mixed feelings for me. As I read it for the first time, alongside all of you, it brought tears to my eyes. There has never been a single moment in our relationship, even when we weren’t living aboard, that I was unaware of Drew’s love and passion for this particular vessel. I will never be able to comprehend the amount of time and energy that went into making her what she is. I do, however, live in the results of his labor and can physically see the details of the love that went into each inch of Dosia. In even my most frustrated moments aboard, I try so hard to think about the future, when I’m sitting behind a desk or on a couch, and would trade anything for my butt to be on a beach instead, and do all I can to use that as a reminder to live in this moment, relish in it, and take all from it that I possibly can. As the final months of our trip begin to unfold, I am torn on how I feel about the journey coming to an end. I know that Drew and I have an incredible life with great adventures ahead of us and I definitely see another boat, more islands, and more sunsets in our future. Something tells me Drew’s going to make sure of that!

September 13, 2009
Regatta Vava’u 2009

This past Tuesday, September 1st, for the first time my brother became a daddy, my parents became grandparents, my other two brothers became uncles, and my sister and I aunts for the first time! My oldest brother, Rhett, and his wife, Kellie, welcomed a beautiful, healthy little boy named Reo Wesley Kopp. I will have to vicariously relish in my role as Aunt Marge (even though I’m hoping to come up with something a bit cooler than that) via pics for the next two and a half months. I haven’t even met this little person yet and already my heart is flooded with love for him and I can barely look at pics without crying. As I get older and my siblings begin to have children, for the first time in my life I am able to understand what I’ve heard from so many all these years that there is nothing greater than one’s love for their child. If pictures tug at my heart like those I’ve seen of my nephew, I can only imagine, and greatly look forward to, the amazement, admiration, and love that must come from having one of my own. Drew’s looking at me like…hold up there missy. No worries honey I’m not saying it has to be now!

The first annual Vava’u Regatta is in full force and even the rain hasn’t been able to dampen the spirits of all those involved. The committee who heads this event must be incredibly pleased with the turnout as almost every boat in the harbor is partaking in the festivities. Each boat involved received a “passport” and at the end of the regatta prizes will be awarded to those who have the most stamps. To get them you visit all the local businesses and of course, spending money there will get you a stamp worth more points and then there have been tons of events going on as well. There was the pub crawl, a Fun Day for the kids, the Governor’s Cup Race, a Full Moon Party, pot lucks on several of the outer anchorage beaches, and today….dun, dun, dunnnn….the cornhole tourny! I have to be honest with you. I have never attempted to play cornhole at 10 o’clock in the morning as my past experiences were always at UGA tailgates before football games. Seeing how Drew and I are two of the very few who even know what cornhole is here, a short description might be necessary for some of our readers. Cornhole is nothing more than a slanted piece of plywood with a hole in the middle and the goal of the game is to toss a beanbag through the hole from about twenty or so feet away. A dead ringer will score you the most points and anything other than that is judged based off of closeness. In my mind I know that this game has become nothing short of a phenomenon for fans of teams in the SEC because it another ploy to have an excuse to drink. Even on island time ten in the morning is a little early for beers, at least for me, so this will have to played for nothing more than sheer, heart racing, exhilerating fun. We’ll be sure to let you know how it turns out!

The foul weather sidelined Dosia for the Governor’s Cup Race this past Saturday so Cole from s/v Zen hopped on board with us and we motored along next to the race and pulled three dinghies for other racing boats. Ironic that we don’t even OWN a dinghy right now but we had three with us that day. Zen came in third for the catamaran category and it was fun listening to Drew and ten year old Cole’s commentary and play by plays. That night the race was followed up by the Full Moon Party and they really out did themselves. I expected nothing more than a bonfire on a beach and was surprised to find a bbq, dinghy VALET, music videos on a large projection screen run by generators, a DJ, and lots and lots of dancing. The moon finally poked through the clouds a little after ten and the glow lit the dance floor. We heard rumors that the last people standing were there until 4:30 in the morning. More power to ’em! Tomorrow wraps up the regatta and tomorrow night is Aaron from s/v Wayward Wind’s 40th birthday. His girlfriend, Lauren, has arranged a pig roast so yummy eats will be in order for sure. It’s been full steam ahead, birthdays galore, non stop socializing since we arrived a little over two weeks ago. My parents have always told me that I need to learn to just say no sometimes but out here, the time you have with a lot of these people is all you’ve got. Chances of seeing most of them again are going to be slim to none. So while we can we’ll enjoy, partake, and continue to make memories with our cruising “family,” and then come Wednesday we’ll be able to get back to the outer anchorages, have some down time, and really do some exploring in the waters of this great island nation.

September 6, 2009