Get Lost On Purpose

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  • Customs Clearance B.S. , and the passage to New Zealand

    I gotta tell you, nothing beats the feeling of freedom you gain from checking out of a country via sailboat. It doesn’t matter if you have a clearance for a port you may not check into within the next month…or year…OR you have no actual plans on leaving the so-called “cleared port” within the next several days…or month. It doesn’t matter at all. You still feel like a wildman when you get that paper. In reality, I could pull up anchor and sail direct to Thailand if I wanted and nobody but Marge would question me. That is awesome. That is freedom.

    Few people out here actually follow the rules. Yes, I said it. Finally. Someone actually said aloud what everyone knows. You can check out today and not leave for weeks and no one would really care or know. It happens with cruisers all over the world. Sometimes the rules are just plain stupid. There are those FEW odd circumstances or random security checks but they are super rare and I only know of a few boats that REALLY care. Most people don’t and who blames them. People who never broke a law in their life are bending the rules in this area. I checked out today (Friday here in Tonga) but I may not leave till Monday….or Friday. Who knows. I am done with the paperwork and I paid. In my eyes, it’s done. There are people anchored within a few yards of me who checked out 2 weeks ago in Vava’u and here they sit. Others checked out for NZ when they left Apia, Western Samoa back in September. They use radio channel 16 code names like “Sweet Caroline”, “Bambi”, “Barbie”, “Salt Peter”, “Heavy Breathing”, and “Adios Pantalones.” We came up with “Marge Barge” as our code name for Dosia. Sounds good to me though I see no reason to use it.

    So we’re checked out. We could possibly leave tomorrow. We are prepared. The weather looks decent for a short 270 mile jump to Minerva reef. It’s another “pause moment” in the 1200 or so mile trip from Vava’u to NZ and it cuts the final leg of the trip down to about 700 miles. Previously, Margie and I decided we’d only stop there if the weather forecast for the remainder of the trip called for a stop. It looks like it may do just that. We are provisioned for a little over two weeks. We have fuel for 800 miles of motoring. No one can lie here. This is potentially the worst passage of an entire circumnavigation. In the last month on this passage, our friends have battled lost rudders, fuel shortages, autopilot failures, rig failures, and more. The Tasman Sea is notoriously nasty like Cape Hatteras near where I grew up. Sometimes I wonder if Hatteras realizes it world-wide fame as “trouble spot” but I don’t question the Tasman. It’s fickle. If it was appropiate, I’d use another “f” word to describe it but I think you get the point. When a low forms in the Tasman, you get out of the way. You don’t mess around in this area of the world. The tanks are full, the oil and filters are changed, the rig is tuned, and the heart is ready. I wouldn’t be surprised to see us pull out of here tomorrow afternoon. We’re part of the All Points to Opua Rally…and race or not, I’m thinking first place sounds nice. Let’s get this one over with. Dosia is ready and it’s time to put our game faces on.

  • Some photos from Tonga

    Here’s a few of our favorites from Tonga so far. Of course there’s plenty more on our Flickr Photostream.  Also, keep an eye out for a shot of Margie at Dosia’s Nav station in the January issue of Blue Water Sailing Magazine!

    active volcano in the background
    Ha'afeva...or something like that Swallow's Cave

  • Goodbye Vava’u and Ha’apai Islands Sailing

    We are currently about ten miles outside of Tonga’s capital, Nuku’Alofa, and should be safely anchored by the time this blog posts. We said farewell to the Vava’u group about three days ago. Usually when we leave a place I don’t look back with any sense of sadness because I’m already excited about the next place. Leaving Neiafu, however, I sat up on the bow and watched it become smaller and smaller behind us and got a little sad. It honestly felt weird to leave the harbor knowing we wouldn’t be coming back in a few days. Cruisers have talked before about spending several months in a place and I always think in my mind, “how?” I never could quite understand how someone could spend two or three months in a particular place when there was so much more out there to see. Now I understand. Neiafu and the rest of the islands that make up the Vava’u group are no more spectacular than the harbors or anchorages I’ve seen in the past six months. Don’t get me wrong…it’s waters were the brightest of blues, there were quiet anchorages a plenty where you could nestle in for the evening and not feel so much as a ripple in the water, whale sightings were as common as a drunk Georgia fan on a fall Saturday, and if you ran out of something while at anchor then town was no more than a two hour sail away or a boat coming your way who could bring you what you needed. Vava’u definitely had its perks. I think, though, that what kept us there for two months was that it was just…comfortable.
    Looking out over Neiafu harbor for the last time.
    We sailed into the harbor back in August and into the open arms of some whom we’d seen just the week or night before and others whom we’d not seen for several months. Literally almost every boat we’d come in contact with in the past six months came together in one place. It was the biggest “family” reunion I’ve ever been to! Man there were birthday parties, sometimes two or three a week. There were dinner parties, there were beach bonfires, there was snorkeling, there was diving, there was swimming with whales (at least for Drew), and there were beautiful sunsets. We spent the better part of our last morning in town walking to all the local businesses who had supplied us with fresh bread, good meals, cold beer, and good times to bid farewell and hug out our goodbyes. Dosia headed west out of the harbor and even though I was sad to go, more memories were on the horizon.

    We’ve spent the last three days hopping our way south through the Ha’apai group on our way to Nuku. Two different anchorages became our homes for the evening and though a bit rolly, I was rocked to sleep quite quickly both nights. Night before last we had Richard & Betsy of s/v Qayak and Ian & Ally of s/v Loon III over for a birthday dinner. Yes, more birthdays. Drew and I are beginning to think that lots of parents were getting more friendly with each other during the holidays and through those cold winter months. Ally and I share the same birthday and Betsy’s is just around the corner on the 30th so I whipped up some homemade sausage gumbo, black eyed peas, and brownie cake for dessert. True southern style and it appealed to the taste buds of our west coast and Canadian guests quite nicely. Drew made me homemade pizza last night for my actual b-day dinner and we used the last of our Boar’s Head pepperoni we’d brought from the states. His family will be shocked to know it’s lasted that long on board as Drew’s love for pepperoni ranks right up there next to his love for bacon. A 4 a.m. early wake up call got us out of bed this morning and we lifted anchor to sail the last 50 miles or so into Nuku’alofa, the capital of Tonga and home of the royal king and queen. Despite being short in length, the trip today has been quite eventful as the fish have finally taken to our lines. Drew hand reeled in a mackerel and as I was typing moments ago his second 20-25 lb. mahi mahi of the day.
    mahi #2!
    As we pulled into the channel that led us to our “parking spot” directly in front of Big Mama’s, a mother whale and her calf waved hellos to us as they splashed around, enjoying the last of their days here in the warm south pacific waters before heading south to Antarctica. Truly…I don’t believe it gets much better than this. We’ll share the love and divvy out our new fish friends but the rest is for keeps and it looks like Drew and I will be the ones eating like royalty tonight!

  • Palangis in Vava’u – Life in Neiafu

    Vava’u is a mixed bag of two places I’ve been before. Physically, it has the close interisland sailing and anchorages of the Virgin Islands. The area also has large bays, unimposing green hills, sudden reefs that pop out of nowhere reminiscent of the Bocas del Toro area of Panama (minus the cattle herd of Americans thinking it’s the new Costa Rica and buying up all the property). It is third world with an “up and coming” feeling. There’s restaurants and bars, small villas, and “psuedo resorts” but no big, brand name hotels. The Kings owns all and land is leased from him. Local Tongans work cheap. $3/4 US dollars an hour is a good wage. They are friendly people but they are shy and won’t approach you first. The younger Tongans seem to be moving away from their Christian heritage. Rap music bellows out of cars and cell phones. Few teens sport traditional dress and on Saturdays the pants ride low and hats turn backwards.

    Neiafu and Vava’u as a whole is deserving of its own blog post if not for the plethora of beautiful, somewhat simple anchorages, then for the interesting social dynamics that allow a place like this to exist. Palangi. What is a palangi you ask? A palangi in its simplest definition is a  foreigner and Vava’u is full of them. We, as visiting cruisers, were palangis but it’s the other palangis; the retirees, expatriots, and business owners who moved to Tonga that I’ll write about here. They are the ones who’ve adopted Tonga as their new home and are trying their hardest to bring this third world country into the 21st century but not always in the best manner or with the best intentions. The relationships between the “settled Palangis” and the locals is tenuous at best. There is obvious tension and the palangis face an uphill battle against royalty, nobles, and the everyday Tongan in their quest for policy change and modernization.

    Most all of the restaurants and bars in Neiafu are owned by foreigners. Seeing as how Marge and I enjoy eating out and consider it just as much a part of the cruising experience as snorkeling the reef, we met and spent time with most all of them. Some became friends while those we didn’t know personally always offered a wave or hello in passing on the street. True to restaurant form, there is drama and plenty of it. In the grand scheme, Neiafu is quite small and competition is fierce. When the cruising fleet of any given year rounds that corner into the harbor, the gloves come out. The natives of the island either can’t afford to dine out or spend their time trying to make a living off of the cruisers so the last thing they want to do it spend more time around them. Therefore, the business owners rely on these few short months for the vast majority of their income for the year. Different nights of the week offer different themes at different places. There is Movie Night, Kava Night, Tongan Band Night, Faka Lady Night, Rugby Game Night, Buffet Night, Tongan Feast Night, and several cruiser birthday parties, all held at any of the given restaurants which for the most part are within about a half mile of each other. The biggest question posed in opening and operating a business is whether it’s better to be profitable or popular? The ones making the most money are quick to cater to cruiser needs while many of the others sit on the side and talk trash about them. In our experience, there was only one restauarnt owner who, while he was probably thinking it, did not vocalize a single negative thought about any of his peers. Mike, owner and operator of the Aquarium Cafe, was professional, helpful, and quiet in his “domination” of the competition. Food on the island in pretty much every restauarnt was great and there were dishes we absolutely loved and raved about to other crusiers. The worst thing a business owner anywhere could assume is that cruisers don’t talk to one another. A fleet in a harbor is as bad as a middle school girl’s locker room. Personally, we hate to see great people with great product with bad attitudes; ruining the dining experience because the entire meal was filled by rants about what other businesses in the area were doing to hurt them. Best advice we could give to any future business owners in Neiafu…stay out of the drama. Let your product speak for itself. Neiafu has a good thing going and we’d love to see the same people still there, doing well, when we return in years to come.