Goodbye Maupiti Sunday 6 Sep 20

Occasionally there's a break in the trade winds, and for the last couple of days one has arrived. It generally starts by the wind vector rotating around from the typical Easterlies to something more out of the North, then the vector clocks all the way around until it's an Easterly again. The speed of that rotation can vary but generally the Westerlies are very light. The rotation this time appeared to be about 2 days long before once again strengthening back to around 15 knots from the East.

Our pals on SV Sugar Shack, a Catana 471 that can kick many monohull's asses sailing hard to windward departed from the Maupiti pass early Saturday morning, reporting a calm pass, gentle seas and a Northeast wind that would almost allow them to lay the course to Taha'a. They ended up having a stellar sail, smoking a couple of monohulls on the same trajectory. As we observed their departure on our AIS plotter we also noted the arrival of our pals on SV Caroligui. Luc and Isabelle are a lovely French couple with whom we've shared numerous anchorages and meals over the past few months, and they're arriving just in time for us to enjoy one last evening together. They're on a unique path this year and have taken on crew, a couple of young French fellows, and the one named Stephan has a job offer in New Caledonia. Turns out Stephan's job offer has created an opportunity for the other fellow, Tio, as well as Luc and Isabelle to gain admittance to New Caledonia which is otherwise closed to outsiders during the pandemic.

Luc used to be a station manager for Air France and knows lots of tricks for dealing with international bureaucrats. He's also on a mission to complete a circumnavigation in 3 years, as Isabelle wants to get home to the grandchildren, so he's really creative about finding ways to stick to their schedule. Serious airline management thinking, and they're also serious about good food and wine. Never turn down a dining invitation to SV Caroligui!

Having completed all our activities up by the village, we motor on down to the anchorage by the pass, find a nice spot to drop the hook, then offer to take them snorkeling with the giant manta rays at the nearby cleaning station. They're all up for that, so pretty soon we've got 6 folks in our little dinghy chugging slowly to the cleaning station. In a flash everyone but Isabelle and I are in the water, and my Isabel is leading them towards a good viewing location. Turns out I've got a problem with my right ear so no snorkeling for me today, and Isabelle isn't fond of water more than about a meter deep, so after about 30 seconds in the water she elects to scramble back into the dinghy. That's fine, and we have a nice chat while the others seek out the wonders of mother nature.

Well those blasted tourist boats have scared off just about all the giant manta rays today, so all our crowd got was a brief glimpse of only one. Honestly, so many folks simply won't behave around them and more often than not the gentle giants just vamoose rather than tolerate the harassment. Pretty soon everyone is back aboard and we're hatching a plan for an early birthday gathering for me. That evening on Caroligui a great time is had by all, Luc surprising us with a really nice bottle of local rosé wine, and Tio making a killer coconut cake. Isabel produced fish cakes, and Isabelle whipped up some paté, - an evening of killer wine and nibbles.

Sunday morning we're up before dawn, motoring out of the pass a bit after 0600. Flat as a pancake, and with no breakers the reefs on either side of the narrow opening are revealed. It's pretty obvious why Maupiti can be inaccessible in a big Southerly swell. We've got flat seas and very light winds from the East, so we motor smartly all the way to Taha'a, anchoring a few hours later just South of the fancy resort by the coral gardens. We're on a sandy shelf with 1.5 meters under the keel, no bommies, great holding and turquoise blue water! Screw coronavirus.

Good news! The port automatic bilge pump works! Saturday 29 Aug 20

Yes, it’s Saturday but feels like Monday. I popped out like a piece of toast around 0600 to hear a noise that’s rarely heard on JollyDogs. Bilge pump running, switching on then off then on. What’s that other noise? Why gosh darn, it’s the house water pump constantly kicking on and off. Why is that? Obviously there’s a leak somewhere. Quick, fill the electric kettle then turn off the house water pump, get caffeinated and then go hunting for the problem with a clear head.

 

I don’t do much of anything before my first cup of coffee.

 

Turns out it’s one of those plumbing fittings that attaches a standard tapered thread plumbing fitting to 15mm plastic flexible pipe used on boats. It’s the output from the hot water line to the master head shower valve. Yesterday was exceptionally sunny so I let the inverter power the hot water heater until we had a full tank. Took about 2 ½ hours, and would have lasted a couple days at least, but now most of that is “down the drain” so to speak. Nuts.

 

Doesn’t cheer me up that hot water has been spraying around the port engine compartment and dripping on the alternator regulators and associated switches, but they’ll get over it and so will I. The good news is we’ve spare parts on board and within an hour it’s all fixed up and cleaned up and dried up and life is good. That’s when I spy evidence of a leak from the heat exchanger on the port diesel engine. Well isn’t that just special?

 

I’ve been looking at the cost and complexity of long endurance electric propulsion the last few days. It isn’t mainstream yet but lots of progress is being made and we have encountered hybrid boats out here. Need a generator for those long run times or cloudy days – otherwise electric seems to be coming of age. Thank you Elon Musk. Maybe someday I’ll do a conversion for a fun project, but production hybrid propulsion catamarans are still in short supply. However, they are beginning to make a lot of sense for the self-launching sailplane market

 

We’ve been here at Maupiti for nearly 2 weeks now, and it’s a great place to hang. Some really strenuous and scenic hikes, plus a nice amble on the paved road around the island, a bit over 5 miles. Decent groceries in terms off fruit and veg and eggs, and we’ve got everything else on board already. Nice friendly people. Free public WIFI at the post office on weekdays! The local cell tower provides a nice LTE data connection. Killer sand bar to kite board from when the wind is strong enough. Giant manta rays come into the lagoon daily to feed and visit a “cleaning station” where little dinky fish chew parasites from around their faces – interesting to watch.

 

We better like Maupiti, because everywhere we want to go is East of here. Pretty much due East, and the winds tend to be strong out of the East or Southeast this time of year, so it’s a bit of a commitment coming here. It does look like a break in that weather pattern will materialize in about a week and we’ll look to motor back towards Bora Bora or even farther whenever that happens. Places to go, people to see, things to do!

 

Coronavirus has kicked back in here after being essentially eradicated. Partly brought by tourists, partly by new French government employees arriving for their rotation, but the spread has really been caused by big parties at bars and restaurants or private residences where people hugged and kissed (French hospitality style) and didn’t wear masks and generally acted like Covid-19 doesn’t exist. Well now they’ve got it. The hospitals haven’t run out of ventilators or rooms yet, but apparently the medical staff have reached a noticeable level of physical and mental exhaustion, so the French government is sending in a few reinforcements.

 

So far no lockdowns so we’re free to move around, but we wear masks when ashore if we’re around any people, unless we’re sitting at a restaurant table with friends. There’s a great restaurant near the dinghy dock. Great food, reasonable prices, and they do the dishes!

Maupiti JollyDogs is upon you! 17 Aug 20

Well the passage was just a little slower than we’d hoped as we had to jibe downwind in lighter airs than forecast. As dawn I relieved Isabel who was just about to make herself a cup of coffee to try and stay awake, and she instead elected to crash and saw wood. About 0800 I was looking at the pass and marveling at the big surf breaking on either side of the rather narrow channel. Wow. To extend my viewing pleasure the jib got furled and engines started, then aligned JollyDogs with the first set of range markers. The pass has a dog let in it so one has to hang a left after getting past the sportier part. That first leg looked pretty turbulent at the moment but no big standing waves.

 

Maupiti is known for breaking waves in the pass if there’s a southerly swell exceeding 2 meters. Locals say 2.5 meters max swell, but certainly we’d prefer none at all. There are Youtube videos showing catamarans in Australia standing off in rowdy conditions, preparing to cross bars at river entrances. They seem to time the wave sets then gun the engines and surf on in to delight of shore bound onlookers. Occasionally, to the horror or those onlookers they get it wrong and broach, losing their vessel and making rescue necessary. Aussies are known for stretching the envelope at times, and while JollyDogs was born in Oz and we’ve lots of friends who were spawned there, our Youtube video better be yawn inspiring.

 

Anyway, Isabel hears the motors start and her natural and somewhat justified suspicions about her husband’s questionable judgement force her from her slumber and she emerges to make sure we’re not about to do something regrettable. No no no, I assure her, just making sure I get the lay of the land and does she have a preference regarding hoving-to or tacking back and forth and fishing for a bit? She doesn’t offer any druthers, so I review the hove to procedure with her and give it a go. Main sail appropriate for existing wind conditions, track to one side at the limit and sheet hard on, jib furled, rudders on opposite tack to the main position. Apparently, we should drift downwind at about 1 knot with the boat in a cycle of heading up then falling off to about 60 degrees. We drift at more like 1.8 knots, so I bring the wheel full over to the opposite side to see how that would work. Still a higher drift rate and a different behavior. I radio our pals on SV Sugar Shack and Matt advises that they don’t really ever hove-to, so we’re on our own. Plotting our course reveals that the boat is behaving as expected, just drifting at a higher rate than advertised in the “operator’s manual”.

 

We get bored with that and decide to fish for a bit, and soon we’re clipping along at 6-8 knots hoping the fish are interested in wind sprints before death. No joy, and about 1015 Matt radios us from his dinghy and pronounces the pass “just fine for an entry, very little current and no standing waves”. Heck, while wait another couple of hours until the noon slack tidal flow, we’ll just boogaloo on in and get settled. As a further incentive he notes that a free mooring is available in the anchorage near them, just hang a left after clearing the pass. Right! Jib away, main sail down, engines on, and we line up on the range markers for the entry. Isabel has a good look around, brings me my life jacket and asks me to clip on, shuts the saloon door and then goes below to, in her own words, “cower in fear”.

 

It’s a pretty interesting ride, and it turns out the current is running out at around 3.5 knots at the strongest, but with both engines blazing at a comfortable rpm (leaves plenty of excess power in reserve) I maneuver us on in and soon we’re lined up on the second set of range markers, the exciting part just a memory. Actually, the crazy part is looking around at the big breaking surf on either side as we motor through the narrow entrance. Bit of a head game there.

 

Now where’s that darn mooring?

Huahine recap and onwards! Saturday 15 August 20

Avea Bay down at the southwest end was quiet, calm, friendly, and we even found a mooring to use. Nice to leave the anchor on deck and repair the bridle. Stout mooring – so when the squalls came, no worries mate. Friendly local residents, a nice resort with fufu drinks, and some good snorkeling. Had the wind been right, a beach a short dinghy ride around the corner offered a setup and launch point for kite boarding. We went over there with our pals from Agape, but the weather didn’t cooperate.

 

Fare is the big village up towards the northwest end. There’s a seriously well stocked Super U grocery store, electric bike rentals, post office, hardware store, fuel station, and open-air markets. The shell museum is world class and also sells pearls. Ask Isabel how we know. One of the jewels of the village is Izzy’s Burgers, a place where a punter can get a killer good cheeseburger (Angus beef) and fries for around $11. Izzy is a lady who found her way to Huahine from Southern California, and she brought the great burger and fries culture that In ‘n Out is so well known for. We found ourselves in there on two separate occasions, and eventually our full up loyalty card will earn us a free cheeseburger. Not complaining.

 

We spent a beautiful day riding electric bikes 61 kilometers around Huahine Nui and Huahine Iti (north and south islands). Somewhere down on Huahine Iti we found a great spot for lunch, and consumed the best poisson cru (raw tuna in coconut milk and lots of salady bits) we’d perhaps ever had, as well as some good barbequed chicken and fries. We were sustained! With about 30 kilometers to go on the ride, it was the right thing to do.

 

We joined the crew from SV Newam 2, SV Taipan and SV Capall Mara for fancy cocktails at the little resort by Avea Bay one evening, paying too much for fruity rum drinks that didn’t even have little umbrellas in them. It was fun, but not a habit to get into.

 

Today we joined 6 other dinghies with their crews to observe a Polynesian celebration of life for a young friend of ours, tragically killed just a few days ago by a speed boat as he was snorkeling. He was only 14 and leaves behind grieving parents and his little sister. More about Eddie another time, it’s still a difficult topic for me.

 

At 1700 local time this afternoon we weighed anchor and sailed for Maupiti. It’s about 2300 now and I’m about to maneuver around Bora Bora so we can lay the last 30 something miles of the passage. It’s a quick overnighter and the sailing conditions are good. Plenty of stars out to enjoy, and perhaps now that it’s finally cleared up, I’ll get to see a few remnants of the annual Perseid meteor shower which peaked on Wednesday night. Naturally it was raining and cloudy then.

 

Maupiti has a single pass for entry and exit, and if the southern swell is greater than 2 meters the pass features breaking waves, something not to be trifled with. We timed our passage to try and have a shot at the morning (0600) and noon slack tide periods, but right now we’re running a little late for the 0600 show time. Looks like we may have to hove to outside the pass and wait for noon, but the seas aren’t demonstrating any southern swell so at least we should get in OK. There’s a maramu coming next week and we want to be well tucked in before the wind and seas pick up.

 

Maupiti is known for a “cleaning station” where giant manta rays gather daily to let the small cleaner shrimp and fish nibble the parasites from them. Cool opportunity to swim with a crowd of manta rays, so we’re in! We’ve got several friends there already, so we’re bringing fresh vegetables for our pals on SV Sugar Shack and we’re looking forward to some time with our pals on SV Le Pukeko before they sail over the horizon to New Zealand in a few weeks.

 

It was time to move on – we were gettin’ “itchy”.

Of light pollution and solar power. Monday 10 August 20

Getting the energy equation right is not only important, it’s also extremely satisfying to a wanna-be geek like me. At the end of the day we want to have enough electricity onboard to be a bit profligate with our power use. Leave the VHF radio on for inter-anchorage communications, run the SSB for the net morning and evening, charge phones, kindles, laptops, enjoy good lighting, have plenty of fresh cold and hot water, and use various small appliances in the galley. In addition, we may have our mast top WIFI extender and attached router energized, we generally leave our AIS transponder on so various friends might find us as they’re approaching an anchorage, and often we’ll leave the NMEA 2000 bus powered so we can monitor wind and depth under the boat as we swing about. We’ve been known to anchor in “kinda shallow” water and it does get breezy out here at times. Enquiring minds want to know!

 

If we’re underway more power-hungry devices come one, including the B&G Zeus3 12” chart plotter, radar, and electrically actuated hydraulic autopilot. Whether at anchor or underway the stereo might be playing. At anchor we’ve got the anchor light burning all night, if underway we’ll run the tri-color light at the top of the mast and various red lights inside the boat so we can see to move about and make a cup of tea.

 

The good news is that LED lighting has pretty much made lighting loads insignificant. While WIFI repeaters and phones don’t use a lot of power, all the communications and computing devices together do begin to add up to a bit of power use. Stereos use a bit of power, as do fans that keep us cooler in the galley or while sleeping. Radios use some power, a little in standby, a lot more when transmitting. The big whammy users are the AC powered hot water heater and the water maker, and the autopilot when underway but its power draw pales in comparison to the other two biggies. Autopilot power demands have a bit to do with the sailing conditions, as the harder the autopilot has to work to keep us on course, the more juice it uses. Keeping the sail plan balanced helps, but some points of sail and sea conditions as well as autopilot operational modes use more power than others.

 

All in all, it’s a bit difficult to predict what the real-world power use will be, so it’s a little hard to decide how much solar power and battery storage will be necessary to achieve a “carbon neutral” footprint. We do our best to reserve fossil fuel use to the dinghy outboard or the diesel propulsion. Our first guess at all this was in 2014 when we originally equipped JollyDogs with 800 amp hour of LiFeP04 cells and 920 watts of solar panels operated with a single solar controller. In the sunny Mexican climate that worked out pretty well, but our plans were to head for cloudier climes and a wider range of latitudes. During our 2018 refit we upgraded to 1440 watts solar, each hard panel with its own controller, and installed 720 amp hours of new LiFeP04 cells. We’ve now lived with this system for about 18 months and it seems to be working out pretty well. There have been a couple of extended rainy spells when I’ve dug out the Honda 2 kilowatt generator so we could run the water maker or the hot water heater, but otherwise the solar has gotten the job done. If we are motoring somewhere we always exploit the alternator output to top up the fresh water and the port engine also heats the water.

 

Here in the anchorage most boats run a generator several hours a day, especially the monohulls as they really don’t have the real estate for lots of solar. Being freed from the tyranny of using fossil fuel for power generation is a wonderful thing and it’s great being a quiet boat.

 

If we could only do something about the light pollution out here! Anchor lights aren’t too bad and often there’s no manmade lights on shore, but that darn moon! I really want to enjoy the Perseid meteor shower this week, but Mr. Moon ain’t helping!

The end of an era! Sunday 9 August 2020

When we discovered the Seawind 1160 at the 2006 Annapolis Sailboat Show, I was already what one medical specialist described as an “orthopedic museum”. Matter of fact, that diagnosis was provided during my first preventative medicine checkup after joining the giant aerospace company and being introduced to what then was called “managed health care”. At the time the concept was that spending a little bit to keep folks healthy was cheaper than fixing them after they got sick. My how times have changed in that business. Anyway, the orthopod told me that if I got the urge to go for a run, “lay down until it goes away”. Heck, I was only 28 then, and it would be another 7 years of SCUBA diving, skydiving, hiking, flying upside down, white water rafting and generally cavorting around until I managed to crash a sailplane during a local soaring club racing event. That mishap certainly did turn me into an orthopedic wonder, with crushed heels, broken ankles, cracked #1 lumber vertebrae, collapsed left lung, and plenty of lacerations. A free helicopter ride to a trauma center, 8 days in intensive care, and about 3 months in a hospital bed with my feet in the air, lots of wheelchair time, then 4 months of physical therapy later I was cripping around slowly with the help of a cane. I finally threw that thing away and got back to my former life but knew I would always have certain limitations to observe and that they might amplify as time went on.

 

So when I met the lovely Isabel and we decided to sail the world together, I knew it would have to be on a platform that wouldn’t become the limiting factor in how long we might be able to enjoy this lifestyle. As we say now, we’ll do this until it’s not fun anymore, or until we think of something else that’s even more fun to do. In the meantime, sailing a “leaner” as I like to refer to monohulls is something we’ve both done quite a bit of. I’ve been fortunate enough to work as passage crew for Captain Ian on various superyachts, sailing well over 11,000 blue water miles in the Atlantic and Mediterranean in a variety of sea conditions. Big sailboats in big seas leave you with big bruises. I managed to convince Isabel that a catamaran would allow us both, but especially me, to enjoy this lifestyle a whole lot longer as we tottered slowly into antiquity.

 

Our Seawind 1160 has been a great solution, but not long after we bought her our broker Kurt Jerman introduced us to a couple who could answer lots of my engineering questions about the boat design. Hello Ralph and Helen Marx, fellow Arizonians and longtime sailing enthusiasts. Turns out they ordered their Seawind 1160 when Ralph had just turned 77 years old. Moondrifter was commissioned just a few months before JollyDogs. They took delivery in 2008 and have sailed Pacific mainland Mexico and the Sea of Cortez about 7 months out of every year since. Along the way they’ve demonstrated that the Seawind 1160 is a design that can be managed shorthanded, is easy and safe to sail, and truly allows folks to enjoy this lifestyle into their later years.

 

Coronavirus forced them to put Moondrifter on the hard in Guaymas, Mexico back in March and retreat to their home in Arizona. Given the unknowns about when this pandemic might finally end and their own personal situation, they’ve elected to sell her to some lucky new owner. Ralph is around 90 now so I reckon that’s pretty good going. Ralph and Helen are living proof that we could be enjoying this lifestyle for many more years ourselves.

 

We’ll be putting JollyDogs up for sale in less than 2 years, but not because we’re giving up. Seawind is going to build us a brand spankin’ new 1370 and we’re planning to take delivery at the factory right there in Vietnam, do some of our own outfitting in Lankawi and Phuket, then enjoy sailing in Asia and beyond. Shucks, I’ll only be 63.

 

Thank you, Ralph and Helen, for enriching our lives so much, for your mentoring and inspiration. You are legends in our minds.

Fast Boats and Influencers Tuesday 4 August 2020

The new Seawind 1370 has made its marketing debut using social media. Facebook and Youtube and Instagram and such. No expensive ad spends on magazines or boat shows or other conventional marketing approaches of days gone by. Imagine the money they’re saving, and how the boat selling world has changed in the last few years. A lovely couple on the sailing vessel Ruby Rose has done a lot market research into all the currently available catamarans and produced a video series about them (apparently) then approached Seawind to collaborate on the new 1370 and produce a series of videos to help market the new model. The lovely couple is part of a group of people known as “influencers”, and in return for their marketing efforts they get compensation in the form of discounted merchandise. In the cruising world those folks generally get free stuff for their boats. Inverters, solar controllers, watermakers, you name it. Maybe even free boats!

 

We’re friends with a young sailing couple who are influencers. They’ve got a large group of followers on Instagram and create marketing videos to post on Youtube and other platforms. In truth what they do is a lot of work. Recently they got new LiFeP04 batteries for “free”, but that was after a couple years of lobbying the provider, and once the batteries finally arrived they’ve worked their butts off on the installation, then produced a series of videos beginning with opening the packaging all the way through the installation to finally extolling the virtues of their new lithium batteries in comparison to the lead acid batteries they removed and chucked out.

 

The dream for many is to live where they want, how they want, and still to make a living. Our influencer pals are out here sailing in a virtual paradise, supporting their habit with their efforts and doing just fine. In contrast, I put up with a daily commute for over 30 years, working in a factory environment with a ton of company procedures and rules to abide by, getting older and progressively out of shape and developing elevated blood pressure. Who do you think is smarter?

 

I’m not bitter or twisted about how I led my life, just noting there’s more than one way to skin a cat, and it seems to me that our influencer pals are skinning that cat pretty cleverly.

 

One silly thing the initial Ruby Rose marketing video focused on was the projected sailing performance. The lovely couple extolled the virtues of the 1370 at 15 tons weight, sailing along with 25 knots apparent wind at 110 degrees. Blasting along at 19 knots! Who cares? Wind conditions like that lead to big choppy wind waves and an extremely rough, noisy ride. Virtually impossible to sleep, cook, or even move around the boat without hanging on. At speeds like that a mistake in handling can lead to a lot of damage or injury. As Richard Ward told us in 2005, you can make a Seawind 1160 go really fast, but you’re not going to like doing it for very long. It’s hard on the boat and the crew. We spend a lot of effort to slow JollyDogs down to improve safety and ride comfort. Our pals on SV Taipan, a 20 ton, 50’ long monohull made a passage a while back, departing with a Craig Schoening design catamaran capable of blistering speed. After 4000 miles their passage time only differed by 6 hours. Why? Because sailing a performance cat at blistering speed is only something one does in a race or perhaps when trying to outrun some sort of nasty weather. Forget cooking or sleeping.

 

Experienced cruisers are looking for safety, comfort, and taking care of our HOUSE, not abusing our investment or ourselves. We can make JollyDogs go really fast but unless the seas are flat that doesn’t matter. Big winds mean big wind waves and associated banging and thumping and jerky ride and hanging on for dear life.

 

The lovely couple on Ruby Rose should emphasize light air performance. That’s what differentiates the typical condomaran pigs from the performance cruisers Seawind is known for.

Plan D from Outer Space! Tuesday 4 August 2020

Well, if we get a new boat, which we’ve signed up to do, we’ll have to sell JollyDogs. Obviously we want to “monetize our asset”, so we need to end up with her somewhere where she’ll sell quickly and or a price that’s to our advantage. There’s at least a chance we could sell her without the help of a broker, which means that we might split the broker’s commission with the buyer. The legal paperwork that transfers ownership is actually pretty simple, though it’s best to hire an expert who does these things every day. That costs around $400, so no big deal. A selling broker is going to want 10% of the selling price, and the seller pays. Yuk. Over the years we lived on dirt we bought and sold a house without the aid of a real estate agent, and in truth the title company does all the legal stuff anyway. Real estate agents and boat brokers get that fat check to do the marketing and showing the boat. Who knows how this will all play out?

 

Anyway, thinking about all that leads us to “Plan D”. Currently the catamaran sailboat market is on fire at least in the US and excellent condition used boats are fetching very good prices. Plan D has a good bit to do with the Seawind 1370 production ramp up and delivery schedule. We just learned that their initial plan was to produce 6 boats in 2021, then ramp up to 12 boats per year in 2022. The customer enthusiasm for this new model has resulted in something near 40 firm orders, which motivates the factory to develop a plan to ramp up production much faster. Get them built and sold while the market is hot, certainly before the next world-wide recession. Given that Covid-19 has helped create one right now and that this sort of economic event is cyclical anyway, Seawind might rightly expect that the 1370 demand might actually increase over the next couple of years. That thought probably has their investors drooling to accelerate the 1370 production schedule to improve market penetration. Considering the challenges of acquiring additional factory space for increasing production, perhaps they’ll even have to consider deleting one of the current production models and “encouraging” any remaining customers in the order book to accept a different model boat. Altogether it’s a high-class problem, one may businesses would love to have.

 

Sooooooo, Plan D involves examining the used Seawind 1160 “fully equipped to go cruising now” market and making sure that within a few months of us taking delivery of our 1370 we’ve got JollyDogs positioned where she’ll sell quickly and for a good price. Where’s that you ask? Probably the west coast of the USA. So if we don’t identify a better alternative AND we’re sufficiently motivated by the financial or logistical incentives, AND the 1370 production schedule does accelerate, AND Covid-19 is gotten under control, Plan D would likely involve departing French Polynesia in 2021 and sailing towards Hawaii for a visit, then continuing along around the old clipper ship routes using the Pacific High and finally ending up somewhere in the Pacific Northwest, perhaps as far North as Alaska. We put a furnace on JollyDogs because we had dreamed of a season between Alaska and Seattle but we never got there. Could still happen. It’s all about incentives, dreams, trade-offs, and priorities.

 

Plan A would still be the preferred alternative, but we’ll have to figure out whether bringing JollyDogs back to the USA would create sufficient incentives, financial and otherwise, to execute Plan D. Truthfully, the passage isn’t one that really excites us. Maybe we’ll find someone who wants to begin their cruising adventure in Australia or Thailand, on a boat that’s ready to go now! Or not.

 

Phooey, we’ll think about that later. Time for a SUP paddle, a yoga workout, maybe a snorkeling or kite boarding session.

Plan A, Plan B, Plan C? Friday 31 July 2020

Well David made a splendid café latte for each of us today while Chris began drawing and making notes on our poxy little world map. Turns out our imaginations hadn’t really run as wild as we should have let them.

 

The first part of our master plan still remains. Stay in French Polynesia until May 2021 before heading west with the hopes of visiting Samoa, the Cook Islands and Tonga. Afterwards the plans diverge.

 

Plan A - head on through Fiji for a bit, then possibly New Caledonia or Vanautu before heading southwest towards Frasar Island, Australia. We need to be south of that area during the southern hemisphere summer cyclone season anyway, so why not cruise down the east coast of Australia, hop across the Bass Strait during a period of extremely calm weather then cruise around Tasmania for a few months. Australia offers plenty of opportunities to secure JollyDogs in a marina and enjoy some inland travel, perhaps fly back to the US and UK for family visits, and obviously visit the Seawind factory in Vietnam to see a new 1370 in the build process. Might as well fly into Phuket for a Thai food fix and a visit with our buds Brian and Charles. With the right weather window, we could depart Oz around May 2022 for New Caledonia and work our way to Vanuatu, the Solomon Islands and on towards Papua, New Guinea. From there perhaps we head on to Indonesia for some more good cookin’. As long as we find our way out of the cyclone belt and eventually somewhere where JollyDogs will fetch a fair price we’re good! We reckon we’ll need to ship stuff to Lankawi to put on JollyDogs part deux, but we still don’t know when. Maybe we’ll just sail JollyDogs there and put our stuff in a shed. Depends when our new baby is going to be ready. Cruising around Thailand offers wonderful food, beautiful sights, friendly people. Maybe by then Vietnam will open up as a practical cruising ground! Who doesn’t love Vietnamese food? Anybody sense a recurring theme here?

 

Plan B - after Tonga sail northwest towards the Marshall Islands and then wander around Micronesia. Eventually still end up at Lankawi to unload our stuff.

 

Plan C – After Tonga sail to Minerva Reef and wait for a safe weather window for New Zealand. Figure out the route towards Lankawi after cyclone season ends in 2022.

 

We’ll probably hatch a Plan D etc. by tomorrow, but for now that’s what we’re thinking. Feel free to weigh in with your own adventure thoughts! Email us at jollydogsrcc@gmail.com. Heck, we’ve got some bandwidth right now.

 

Everybody has to be somewhere doing something. Might as well plan for success, fun, adventure, and mind-expanding cultural experiences. We’d do better if we had a big map to spread out on the dining table. Maybe we’ll bug our geographer pals and very close personal friends Mike and Tami to find us just the perfect map and bring it to us!

 

I think we’re leaning towards Plan A. Both of us are keen to spend time looking around Tasmania, and Australia holds a really special place in both our hearts, as that’s where we first met. With any luck this coronavirus thing will work itself out by next May and we can visit some of the more remote and “medical resource poor” countries on our way to the land of Oz. If things sort out a bit faster we’ll hope to fly down to New Zealand and enjoy visiting friends and perhaps a little America’s Cup action March of 2021 before launching west. Time will tell.

 

It’s a high-class problem to have, trying to decide what places to sail to next. Of course, trying to decide where to sell JollyDogs, who to sell her to and when, well that’s also a high class problem. We’re pretty fond of our girl, and she’s really working well in this environment. Looks like we got a few things right. Somebody’s going to be really lucky to call her their own someday.

Wow this place REALLY does not suck! Friday 31 July 2020

Huahine seems to be agreeing with us. It’s a gorgeous island, and down her at Avea Bay it’s pretty quiet. There are a couple of small villages in the area, a small beach resort and a nearby restaurant, and a lovely bay to enjoy paddling the SUP. We’ve got several pals in the anchorage with us, and more anchored at other spots around the island. Our buds on SV Maple are coming this way from Riaitea and soon it’ll feel like old home week.

 

Last night Isabel knocked up a killer Thai curry with some of that dogtooth tuna we caught up at Fakarava. Chris and David from SV Taipan joined us for dinner – we had intentions of reviewing maps of Asia to do some cruise planning in the region, but things got a bit out of hand so we’ll do that today over a cuppa. Those guys provide a serious mentoring opportunity, as they’ve sailed almost the same route around the world that we’ve at least fantasized about. Like Behan and Jamie’s clients, its nice to have a coach that’s really gotten out and done it.

 

SV Agape was here when we arrived with Rachel’s dad on board – on Wednesday we all went round the corner to try a little kite boarding but it turned out to be a pretty stormy day so we pulled the plug on that endeavor. Wednesday night we had the thunderstorm from hell, complete with nutso winds from all directions and plenty of lightning. We hate lightning. A lightning strike on a boat generally does severe damage to rigging and electronics, something that takes $$ and time to correct, along with the hassles of the insurance claim. The risk of being struck is perhaps not so bad in an anchorage with other boats and high terrain nearby, but when we’re out at sea and our mast is the tallest conductive thing on the horizon it feels like we’re sitting ducks.

 

Fortunately our mooring held fine and the lighting spared us, so we’ll live another day. The rainstorm was pretty wild and as we used to say, it was raining like a cow pissing on a flat rock, so Thursday when we got up it was to a very clean boat – no salt anywhere. Quick – before we’re overcome by laziness whip out the polishing compound and paste wax and get to work. Gel coat loves wax, but in this sun it oxidizes pretty quickly so some light polishing compound helps bring it back. We got most of the topsides done, and will continue to hack away at it for the next few days until that task is complete. It’s a big job – nice to space it out a bit.

 

Our rule of thumb is each day should involve a task such as boat maintenance, some physical exercise and some adventure. Paddling the SUP is back on the list here as it’s a calm enough bay, and I’m even motivated to attempt the repair on the other board that got eaten by that blasted lemon shark. When the wind comes back kite boarding will be back on the list, but in the meantime there are some nice hikes and snorkeling and such, also plenty of socializing to be had so boredom isn’t a risk. The hammock calls to us in the afternoon, and that’s pretty much impossible to resist. Naps are good.

 

The cell network here provides enough data for emails and WhatsApp calls, so that’s good. It also allows us to look at the daily news, so that’s bad. The world is a bizarre place right now, between political and social upheaval and coronavirus. Our objective is to stay as far from all that as possible but participate in the political process as responsible citizens should. Let’s hope the current administration’s efforts to disenfranchise us aren’t successful.

Chillin at Huahine Wednesday 29 July 2020

Well we worked the deal with our new friend Ryan who sold us a gently used 12-meter Airush Union kite and bar/string set with a new leading-edge bladder that still needed installation. Our other new friend Yannick who installed the new bladder and tested the kite for integrity. Yannick is the Airush dealer for French Polynesia, a fun part time gig he has along with his full-time job as a marine biologist. Yannick came from France about 30 years ago to study the reef life and coral health, met a beautiful local woman, made a couple of babies and the rest is history. They’re both passionate kiters on the weekends and I was lucky enough to coerce Yannick into installing the bladder, a slightly technical and complicated task, especially for a newbie like me. He met up with me Monday morning to deliver the kite and we had a chance to talk about the health of the coral in French Polynesia. Yannick has seen a remarkable degradation in the coral life over his 30-year career here, obviously the product of global warming. We can argue about whether it’s a natural global cycle or man-made, but it’s definitely happening. We’ve seen a lot of bleached and dead coral since arriving and are always delighted when we find coral that’s live and healthy. Unfortunately, we’re almost surprised when we find lots of healthy coral. Glad we don’t have grandchildren, because they’ll have to look at pictures of live coral or see it at a coral zoo.

 

The weather forecast promised a nice overnight passage to Huahine, our leeward Society island objective about 90 miles away. We departed the anchorage about 1300 even though that was a bit early – apparently we’d both had enough jet ski and tour boat traffic to last a lifetime. Soon we were tooling along nicely with full main and jib, looking at the miles melt away and thinking “we don’t really want to arrive at the pass before dawn”. Before supper we put a reef in the main to try and slow down a bit, as JollyDogs was galloping like a racehorse for the finish line, and we were looking for something more like a cow heading to the milking barn. We were on a beam reach with 12- 14 knots of wind, and the trouble with a Seawind 1160 is it’s a serious sailboat, not a condomaran, and she wanted to go!

 

Isabel crashed after supper and by 2300 I noted that we’d likely arrive well before sunup, so put another reef in the main sail, Jamie Gifford style. No reason to come head to wind with all that flapping and drama – just drop the main halyard about 20 centimeters, haul in on the reef line, and repeat until the sail is down where I want it. Once all looks good, clip on to the jack lines and get on the cabin top to clean up the sail that’s spilled out of the lazy jacks and bag, then we’re off to the races.

 

I woke Isabel up around midnight and she stood watch until it was just cracking dawn and then fetched me to the helm. We had arrived at the pass around 0430 and she’d hove to for a bit, working to avoid another boat “SV Lef” that was doing exactly the same thing. I stumbled up into the cockpit and she handed me a steaming cup of joe and we motored in towards the pass, finding an opportunity to drop the main as we motored in.

 

The pass was a cinch, and soon we were touring the anchorages near the village of Fare, not finding any available internet hotspots so we continued on down to the South end of the channel, about 1 ½ hour’s journey. There we found our close friends Chris and David on SV Taipan, who pointed out a fine mooring that we could take. Well heck, we’ll just keep the anchor dry and warm and tie up to that sucker. David launched the dinghy and helped Isabel nab the mooring line, and soon I had set up a bridle system using our long dock lines and chafe protection.

 

After shifting into housekeeping mode, we launched our own dinghy and joined David and Chris for a pancake breakfast, yakking about this and that until mid-day, then returning to JollyDogs for a nap.

 

Let the games begin!

What is next? Sunday 26 July 2020

Well we escaped from Papeete, mostly motoring into a headwind then a little motor sailing as the wind came round, dropping the hook in Cook’s Bay, Mo’orea mid-afternoon. Get everything settled then off to the fuel station with 8 jerry cans – 7 for diesel, or gasoil as they call it here, and one for gasoline, or essence, that what makes the dinghy outboard go. Present the duty-free exemption papers, pump the fuel, load it into the dinghy, pay the bill and voila! Back to JollyDogs to decant the diesel into the main tanks along with a bit of Biobor JF to make sure nothing grows in our fuel tanks. Gotta be careful of diesel in a tropical environment. With a large air volume in the tanks and the warm, moist air, without additives to kill the beast, icky stuff can grow in diesel and choke the fuel lines, filters, and fill the tank with sludge. Our pals on SV Leela recently had that experience and lost propulsion while motor sailing from Mo’orea back to Papeete. Got a tow into the marina, cut an inspection hole in the tank, had an access panel machined for a few hundred bucks, then spent the next week cleaning out their tank, scrubbing the fuel, etc. My borescope and extra jerry cans came in handy for that project, as did the trusty Makita jigsaw and Honda generator to run it.

 

Papeete was smelly and noisy. We returned to the boat each day covered with dust, and with sinuses clogged by diesel soot and 2-cycle motor scooter exhaust fumes. Access to cell data and local wifi meant that we could check email and international news at our whim. Trust me, that’s a bad thing.

 

Visits to civilization are a necessary evil. We checked lots of blocks. Got stuff done. Bought a new boat. Took care of business. But all the internet access was putting snakes in our heads, Jack. Remember that redheaded lady security guard you met in Truth or Consequences?

 

It was time to escape.

 

So now we’re anchored on the reef West of Oponuhu Bay, getting more business done. Yesterday was make new friends day. Nice folks! Kite gear to sell. Today was take the gear to the local “dude” for inspection and repair. Great guy! Trust his judgement. Tomorrow is collect the gear, pay for the repairs and gear, then prepare to blast off. We cleaned the props and hull today. The passage weather forecast looks good. We’ll blast off for the short overnight passage to Huahine tomorrow afternoon after mission accomplished. Can’t wait to spend some quality time with Chris and David on SV Taipan. There’s still time for them to adopt us, or perhaps we’ll adopt them!

 

We don’t feel settled right now. Both of us long for that quiet, calm feeling we had during the isolation at Raroia or our month of bliss at Tahanea. Time to get the hell out of dodge and reduce the noise floor. Yoga in the morning. SUP paddling. Kiting in the afternoon. Snorkeling on the reef. Chilling out with friends. Learning to play on the new Yamaha guitar we bought at Magic City in Papette. Back to a sensible existence, rather than total consumerism.

 

It was necessary, but all a bit too much. We need to return to a simpler life. You can keep your 24/7 news cycle; all it does is jack everyone up. I can’t imagine how many shrinks the news services must employ to make sure they can manipulate folks. Gotta keep ‘em checking in, seeing those adverts, eating that political red meat.

 

It’s all a load of BS.

 

It has all made us anxious to not be so damn restless and unsettled.

 

Back to just “being”.

Sucked into the Papeete vortex! Saturday 25 Jul 20

Well the sail from the south pass of Fakarava to Tahiti wasn’t the fastest we’ve had, but it was quite pleasant with no squalls, and apparently the speed was just right for a meter long mahi mahi to gobble up the fishing lure Carla on SV Ari-B made for us. We haven’t caught a mahi mahi since we were in Mexico and were pretty chuffed!

 

For the most part the wind was on the stern and we flew the twin headsail rig, but eventually it crept up enough and the seas were flat enough that we were able to fly the main and screecher and make some good speed before finally furling the screecher and rolling out the jib for the last few hours of the trip. We rounded Point Venus at the northwest tip of Tahiti around 0830 and proceeded on down to the main harbor entrance, slipping on the inside of the arrival pontoon around 1000 on Sunday July 5^th 2020. It had been nearly a year since we’d taken a marina berth but a marina employee caught a line and soon we were safely moored. Marina Papeete was still charging low season rates, so about $20 a night for us plus any water we used which was cheap.

 

The arrival pontoon accommodates about 16 vessels and is in front of the new facilities which include the marina office and a bar / restaurant, but the covid pandemic has delayed the grand opening, now scheduled for early August. It’s an impressive waterfront development. What’s the best thing about marina life? Unlimited potable water! Let the long showers begin! Feels like when we visit a hotel these days. . .

 

Our objectives in Papeete were to get routine annual physicals, dental checkups, dermatologist inspections, and to visit the US Consular official to get a US Notary Public stamp on a legal document. Mission accomplished, and perhaps more about that another time. Also on the list, repair and upgrade parts for JollyDogs, spear guns, fishing lures, some clothing, and lots of serious provisioning. Welcome to the “land of plenty”. The veritable cornucopia of fresh fruit, vegetables, and the weekly Sunday market features “pork products” as Isabel likes to call the various barbequed meaty goodness that the vendors only bust out on Sunday mornings.

 

For folks like us who had spent months in the Tuamotus with access to only coconuts, fish, conch and crabs when we could catch them, going to Papeete is like being a kid in a candy store. We walked about a mile down to the Carrefour and slowly wandered up and down every aisle, marveling at the vast selection of everything we could imagine. Wine! Cheese! Charcuterie! Real, fresh butter rather than the tinned stuff! My French isn’t so good and my Polynesian is awful, so I’m sure I missed the “clean up on aisle 5, aisle 6, aisle 7, aisle 8” announcements over the store loudspeaker as we stumbled up and down each aisle, drooling like mad hatters at the dining and adult beverage possibilities.

 

Marina life is also very social in nature. Friends we’d made since arriving in French Polynesia were in various slips around the facility, so sharing happy hour and meals aboard various boats was the order of the day. SV’s Leela, Rapture, Sugar Shack, Ari-B, Long Temps, September A.M., Yamaya, and more came and went during the course of our stay. We even had an evening at the local craft brewery, Les Trois Brasseurs.

 

We were in the marina for a total of 19 days, a fun and productive time. We accomplished all our major objectives, filled JollyDogs up with enough dining options to weather a zombie apocalypse, and identified major resources that will make life better in future. Such things as the variety of chandleries and the Technimarine shipyard where we’ll likely haul out for fresh bottom paint before departing French Polynesia next May.

 

Yep, with all the craziness in the world and the countries to the West still mostly closed or all horked up with quarantines and such, we’ve pretty much decided to spend another year kite boarding and spear fishing in these parts. Well why not?

Where's the fireworks? Saturday 4 Jul 20

Well I got Isabel up for her watch at 0200, about 2 hours later than I used to. Turns out that brownies have sugar which gives one a buzz. Combine that with the brain stimulation provided by House MD episodes and remaining awake late into the night is easy. Who’d a thunk it? Got 2 of my needed blocks of sleep, 1.5 hours each, and found myself awake about 0545. Another block of sleep would have been great, but the whistle of the kettle and the smell of fresh coffee got my motor running. That’s one of the problems sailing with wind on the stern – coffee aroma wafts into the master cabin and turns my brain on. Anywho, up I came and found Isabel relaxing in her favorite watch position, kicking back on the stern bench seat where she could see the world going by, and our most successful fishing lure already deployed.

 

The first couple of days at sea on a long passage are the toughest, then we get our resting rhythm going. The worst passages are single night or 2-night trips, just enough time for one’s body to get confused but not enough time to establish necessary rest patterns. Whatever, we’re not going to slow the boat down to make the trip longer, and we can’t make the wind blow harder than it wants to. Overnight and right now the wind is lighter than forecast which is a bummer, but we’re still averaging around 4.5 knots or more and should arrive just around dark tomorrow night at the latest. I’ve alerted the marina to enquire about their night lighting and slip availability, but if we’re running a bit late we’ll sail into the bay on the leeward side of Point Venus and drop the hook. It’s a nice sheltered anchorage, black volcanic sand bottom, and it’s not unusual to see mamma whales and their young’uns in there during the calving season.

 

We’ll find our way into Marina Papeete by Monday morning at the latest. Last night the PolyMagNet SSB net had a number of vessels underway checking in, several of which were headed to Tahiti. We seem to be leading the pack, and as it’s a dead downwind sail for almost all of us we’re likely enjoying the most pleasant sailing. Monohulls roll like nuts in these dead downwind conditions when they’re sailing wing and wing, but for us we just putter along with our simple little simbo rig, doing around 45 – 50% of true wind speed. We ride up and down the swells as they pass under the stern moving forward and the gentle motion is quite relaxing. Yay catamaran!

 

There will be a forecast update on Predictwind at 0910 local time. Let’s hope it shows a steady 15 knots from the East for the remainder of the voyage, and that the real weather actually behaves like the forecast. For now we’re just kicking back thinking about that next fish we’re hoping to catch, wondering if the solar input will top up the batteries today, considering what we ought to eat for breakfast, etc. Ours certainly is a high pressure world.

 

Thinking back to the 4^th of July fireworks displays we’ve enjoyed together, perhaps the most spectacular was in San Diego bay. In 2013 we joined Thad and Kristen and some of their friends on their boat, SV She’s No Lady to watch the amazing fireworks display launched from several barges around the bay. Everything was synchronized to the music broadcast by a local FM radio station – really well done. Perhaps the most unusual display, the one that really stimulated all our senses was in Silverton, Colorado. We were camping up there and had driven into town to enjoy the evening with new friends we had met in a boutique rum distillery. Silverton is at 9000 feet MSL elevation with lots of big steep mountains around and extremely crisp clear air. The fireworks would launch and go bang, and long after the visual stimulation was over the reverberation of the explosion sounds from the nearby mountains and cliffs were a treat for our ears.

 

Sounds like coronavirus is going to put a damper on festivities this year. Guess a great backyard BBQ with close friends will have to suffice.

Goodbye, Fakarava! Friday 3 Jul 20

Well the wind velocity, gust factor and direction relative to the reef and sand banks made for kiting conditions “not conducive” to Isabel’s learning and beyond my own envelope with our 10 meter Lithium kite, so Thursday 2 July we pulled the plug around 1030. Up came the anchor, out rolled the twin headsail simbo rig and we had a lovely, albeit quick sail down to the anchorage by the South pass. About the time we arrived it blew up a good squall so we used light motor thrust to hold position until the little storm subsided then identified a good place to drop the hook. Lots of bommies there so it’s almost luck to get the anchor into sand, but we pulled it off. The wind blew around 20+ all afternoon and most of the evening and it was from the East so there was big chop running through the anchorage. Still I slept like a baby last night.

 

This was the opportunity to SCUBA dive the big annual grouper spawning event along with the amplified “wall of sharks”. A French cruiser named Phillipe arranged for a group of us to go with Top Dive boat, NITROX and all gear included for only 5000 CFP, about $46. Smokin’ deal, and it included divemaster Dimitri who led us along the preferred route to see hundreds of sharks and more grouper than I’ve ever even imagined. Worth the price of admission!

 

Isabel wasn’t up for it – needs some recurrency training – and after I returned to JollyDogs mid-day she proposed we consider launching for Tahiti to exploit the most favorable weather conditions. Why not? We hustled to ready the boat and by 1300 the anchor was up and we were motoring towards the pass. Near the end of an incoming tide and with the wind moving in the same direction, the exit through the rather narrow pass was uneventful and soon we had the simbo rig set and the wind dead astern. Fifteen knots of wind got us around 7 – 7.5 knots SOG and with the seas dead astern there was nothing for me to do but go take a nap while Isabel deployed our favorite fishing lure (Carla from SV Ari-B made it for us). Round about 1600 we noticed the bungee was active, and soon I was pulling in a 1 meter long mahi mahi while Isabel readied the “bringing aboard and killing gear”. Soon I had that sucker gaffed and was hacking away at the gills so the fish would bleed out. Mahi mahi put up a pretty lively fight, boys even worse than the girls. Turned out this one was a girl, big enough after filleting to make about 8 meals for the 2 of us. That’s some seriously tasty protein!

 

The weatherman promised livelier conditions that we’re currently experiencing, but we’re still averaging 5 knots. If we can keep this up we should make landfall in Tahiti Sunday afternoon. It’s nearly 0200 now and about time to wake Isabel up for her watch. I’m the PolyMagNet controller tomorrow so after my morning show if it’s still this light we’ll be switching to a full main sail and schreecher, then bearing off a bit to make some speed. The geometry works out so that it’s still faster than sailing the rhumb line.

 

Isabel will have season 3 of Game of Thrones to keep her alert tonight. I ploughed through several episodes of House MD myself, as well as several of the brownies she baked while I was diving. The sugar buzz is starting to wear off – about time to crash.

 

It’s the 4^th of July here but the only fireworks we’ll enjoy will be catching another fish or 3. Fingers crossed we fill the freezer with high quality protein before we arrive Tahiti. I’ll take a yellow fin tuna and another couple mahi mahi, if you please. Nice compliment to the dog tooth tuna and sail fish we’ve already got in the freezer.

Remember that old breakfast joke? 30 Jun 20

Where the heck did June go? We’re now halfway through 2020! Can ANYBODY believe that?

 

We keep a logbook of all our movements and guests, so at least we can go back and accurately recall where we were and if someone was visiting. Pat and Celine managed to join us and escape before the Covid-19 pandemic caused shutdowns and quarantines. We managed to escape from Nuku Hiva’s Taiohae Bay before the shutdown and actually enjoyed our self-isolation period at the very lightly populated atoll of Raroia. In hindsight the only better option would have been the unpopulated atoll of Tahanea. Still, we had a good time and if that darn shark hadn’t attack while I was out paddling one of our inflatable SUPs it would have been a stellar experience.

 

We left Nuku Hiva with a load of fresh veggies, fruit and leafy greens. We ran out of anything to make salad with after a few weeks, and it was well over 2 months before we saw anything like lettuce again. There’s nothing as wonderful as a big fluffy salad after doing without for months! Provisioning for long periods in remote locations is something Isabel is extremely good at, and I’m betting she’ll be back to growing microgreens onboard once she can get some seeds. I’ve already built her a couple of planters out of old pearl farm floats.

 

We continue to be bummed about what we can’t find to purchase even in the more populated atolls of Makemo and Fakarava. Partly it’s due to international supply chain disruptions caused by the coronavirus, partly it’s because many of the store shelves are cluttered with junk food instead of healthful foodstuffs. Like the US and Mexico, obesity is a serious problem in French Polynesia. I’m not sure how bad alcoholism compares as booze is seriously expensive here but sugar is a subsidized staple and plenty of folks are using it to make their own hooch.

 

Soon we’ll make landfall in Tahiti and quickly learn just what’s in short supply there. Of interest is what’s on the shelves of Maxi, a shop that resells all kinds of goodies from Costco in the states. Carrefour is the place to go for general groceries and great French cheeses, pates, etc. Super-U over on the adjacent island of Moorea seems to have much better prices for wine and other forms of alcohol. No telling why, perhaps something to do with local taxes?

 

For now, we’re weathering an impressive maramu here in Hirifa. Have a look on Google Earth – there’ll likely be a few yachts in the image. Great place to tuck in for a strong Southeast blow, nice sandy beach and kite surfing is a great pastime.

 

Yesterday was to be a private lesson for Isabel, but the wind was so hard and gusty she made a wise decision to decline and I made the somewhat silly decision to go in her place. As instructor extraordinaire Adrian noted, he couldn’t teach me a lot right now, I simply have to put in a lot of kilometers to build my skills and teach my body to react to rapidly changing conditions. It was still worthwhile and I learned lots. We pulled the plug on further lessons until the blow lessens and scheduled Isabel for Friday when the wind should be lighter and steadier.

 

In the meantime I used one of Adrian’s 8 meter kites yesterday and found it to be much more controllable in the conditions. We only have a 10-meter kite of our own and it’s just too windy for it. Other kiters have noted that if you’re serious about enjoying this sport, you need a full quiver of kite sizes and Adrian advises for our body weight a compliment off 8, 10 and 13-meter kites is about right. His wife Aline is going to let me demo a used 8-meter kite this morning and if I like we’ll add it to our arsenal of gear. She’s also contacted a kite shop on Moorea to see if they’ve got a 13-meter kite to sell us. It’ll be a rather large commitment in $$$, but hey –we’re way under budget for eating out!

 

Back to that breakfast joke, about eating bacon and eggs? The chicken is participating, but the pig is fully committed.