American Dream movie trailers, and an invitation to discuss

Back in November I shared information and a link to the movie that our family has a bit part in: American Dream. The story of our family's journey to find a different path for our lives is woven with that of others: all questioning the "American dream" and finding a way to . 

Joel, the film's director, recently set up a Facebook page that has easier to access links for a few trailers (yeah guys... sorry about those massive downloads. I never was able to see them myself! these will load much better). 

Take a look, and let Joel know what you think on the FB page- he's reading and listening. Enter the discussion: what do YOU think of the American dream? What does a new dream look like?

filming back in 2008, below deck in the relatively unfinished Totem

Ho-ho-holidays on Totem

Christmas feels very different here. First, the obvious. Even though we've had a couple of years to get used to "tropical" climate Christmas, it still feels strange. Our higher-latitude, northern hemisphere rooted brains just think that cold weather (and maybe even a little snow) are part of the essential holiday package.

Here, though, Santa gets with the warm weather program. We were graced with a visit at the marina, and the kids pointed out- no shoes! I'm sure he was happy to get the big boots off down here.


Aussie Santa don't need no stinkin' shoes. Sunglasses, however, are essential.

The long days are great, and with summer solstice just a few days before Christmas, it's light very late. This is perfect for the spontaneous marina BBQ potlucks, which seem happen a few times every week! It's not so great for viewing lighted holiday displays, though, when it's still light out at bedtime. Somehow, seeing lights decorating the outside of homes (and trees inside them) feels so much a part of the holidays... there's comparably little visible decoration here, by contrast.

On Totem, we reprise our "mast tree": we wind the mast with tinsel and LED lights, and hang ornaments off them. I think we were only up late enough to bother putting the lights on once, though. It was simply too light to see them.

Not that we were falling short on the festive front.


Holiday favorites: an advent calendar (3-D, house design), Mr. Willoughby's Christmas Tree, and lots of tinsel... that's the Mast Tree in the back  

Some of our Aussie friends said they like to play cricket in the park on Christmas day. Sounded great to us! We planned a picnic with fellow cruisers at a waterfront public park near the marina. It was a stunning day- blue skies, warm breezes. Crews from Totem, Quartermoon, A Small Nest, Sea Level, Tangaroa, Further and others brought our toys, picnic baskets and blankets to pass the afternoon. Propane barbecues are standard issue at Australian parks, and having a sausage sizzle also seems to be as Aussie a tradition as you get. But somehow, the cricket game never materialized. When they tired of flying kites, a baseball game broke out instead! I guess that's what happens when the American boats outnumber the Commonwealth participants...


Flor, Niall, and Ward playing our pick-up baseball game on Christmas day

There are so many slivers of holidays from home that I miss. Feasting with dear friends and family, gathered from afar. The progressive dinner in our old neighborhood. Chilly evenings warmed by a glowing fireplace. The annual holiday ball at SYC. The caroling fire truck on Bainbridge. But as seems to happen, our cruising family steps in and new memories, new traditions are made.

It wasn't the same, but it's hard to imagine having it any other way.


Ward, from the Belgian crew on s/v A Small Nest, bounding up for his turn on Santa's lap.

Follow up to FAQ: using strops

We had a question from Okeebc on the first passage safety post last week, wanting to see a strop rigged as we use them on Totem. Here's one example- our boom with two strops (yellow) at the outboard end.


The squall in the background of course is nice dramatic effect!

The forward strop is to attach to our mainsheet block, since the 3/8”, 1 year old stainless steel eye that had been attached the block failed while in route to the Marquesas. Fortunately, we rigged the strop before leaving Mexico, as a just-in-case precaution. It made quick work of getting the boom under control.

The second strop is in place as a spare. It can be used for mainsheet, reefing, boom topping lift, preventer, vang (we do also used a strop for the vang), etc. As mentioned last week's post, we also use strops- or soft shackles, from  1/4” Spectra line- in many other applications. Which reminds me to share just how much Jamie loves Spectra. I mean... sometimes, I feel a little threatened. I tease him that he wants to legally change his middle name to Spectra, and he doesn't object nearly enough.

The straps shown are made from 2” nylon tubular webbing. One length of webbing, rolled to the correct diameter so that it is 4 or 5 layers and then hand-sewn. Our good friends on Ceilydh loaned us their Sailrite machine. This was great for a bunch of pre-passage projects, but not the strops- they are too thick. Break out the sailmaker's palm...

Jamie feels the need to point out the mainsheet twist (old double braid) in the picture. It drove him nuts! He'd work it out, but it would quickly re-emerge. A different line choice is in order for the next mainsheet.

Passage Safety III: all the other stuff

Here’s the balance of the safety gear ruminations that didn't make it into the last two posts. Bottom line, gear breaks and safety can quickly become an issue; so minimize the likelihood and have resource available to deal with it as best you can. The same goes for the boat. The best passage preparation is knowing your boat; the sounds, look, and feel of how it should be. You want to get to that distant shore in one piece, but also with nothing more important to do than hike to a killer view.


Looking down at Anaho Bay - Nuku Hiva, Marquesas, French Polynesia

1. For boaters who have been successfully cruising for awhile, don’t be lax about inspections or convince yourself the last one was “not too long ago.” Do a complete inspection of the rig, rigging, through hull fittings/hoses/clamps, steering components, autopilot, sails, and safety equipment. It’s best if someone else,  like another cruiser, helps out. They’ll catch things that you’re used to seeing and might miss. In the 2010 crossing I think of at least 20 boats with very notable problems in one or more of these areas. Just about everyone had at least minor issues.

2. Start watching weather patterns at least a week before intended departure. Gribs are a nice and often misleading tool, so use them as only one piece of the weather puzzle. Have an intended departure date, subject to change based on weather condition. If the weather is not right FOR YOU, don’t go then. Don’t expect the weather to be like books say. Currents meander and “normal” trade winds are subject to influence from variables like La Nina.

3. Your EPIRB registration allows you to edit a note field online. Update that field before each passage with the dates and start/end destination of trip. While you're at it, check out my friend Toast's recent blog post about International SAR, and make sure those registrations are all current and talking to each other.

4. Have an emergency radio “cheat sheet” near the radios with documentation number, MMSI, Station ID, and with step-by-step instruction for different type of emergency call. If you’re exhausted or a wreck under pressure, written steps help. We created this in a laminated sheet and would be happy to email it to anyone interested- just drop us line at sail at sv-totem dot com.

5. We would often talk about “situations” with our children - not in a dire way, but to educate them. Only small bits stick, but response themes develop: we know we can count on them for getting out of the cabin for one emergency situation or finding the nearest grown-up for another. It also helps attune them to situations and make them full crew members:  junior knows to tell you about subtle but odd / different sounds, you might find a plumbing elbow has cracked, spraying fresh water into the bilge.

6. Below deck, stow things well, especially galley items. I seemed to have near misses and stopped using knives in any kind of seaway. Weeks worth of meals offshore can get interesting (or tedious) when you’re bouncing around so much that it takes four hands to get and add just one ingredient. It’s helpful to do some cooking ahead, and have a list of one-dish / easy prep meals aboard. This truly does not come naturally to me, and required practice! Lots of easy, nourishing, dense snack items help too. 

7. Squeaks and rattles will drive you nuts (leading to a gruesome outcome, no doubt). If you know of any now that occur now when underway, fix them if you can.

8. Safety equipment, including first aid gear, is more subjective then I thought possible. I'm not really going to go here now. Just don’t go offshore with regrets about your preparation. This is different than not feeling “totally ready”, because nobody ever does. Know what safety gear you have and that it works properly when you depart. Once off the dock you have to live with it, literally. 

Passage Safety II: Fatigue

Fatigue is perhaps not something you prep for, except to think through how you will manage it and get rested before a passage... but we think it's really important for safety.

1. GET SLEEP. Being overly tired results in making bad choices. Under normal passage conditions getting enough sleep can be difficult. During rough weather or during stressful situations, sleeping is harder to get. Think through how your berths will accommodate different situations, and how you can adjust your location, position, whatever... to get sleep. Consider earplugs. The counterargument is that you need to hear what's going on, but at some point, sleep prevails. Seasickness, of course, compounds fatigue.


Jamie catches ZZZs underway

2. Watch schedule: this is different for everyone. Cruising World had an interesting article a few years back that compared the watch schedules of a half dozen circumnavigating couples. NONE of them were the same! Between Mexico and the Marquesas, we were joined by the wonderful Ty Anderson from back home on Bainbridge Island. The difference between a 2-person schedule and a 3-person schedule is very positive for sleeping. In general, our approach is not to have a strict schedule, but instead, use practical rules.

• generally 3 to 5 hours per watch 
• Plan for a basic routine that matches to each person’s natural biorhythm (for example, don’t make your night owl start watch at 6 a.m. Jamie is great in the wee hours; I tend to lose it if I wake up for watch at 1am) 
• Based on adverse or cold conditions, shorten the length of time on watch 
• Don’t miss sleep opportunities, especially during the day. You need more sleep than you think, since the quality of your sleep is reduced 
• If you feel over tired (rubbery legs, dozing off, etc), just make a watch change. Don't be a hero, 
• Our kids help, too. At night, Niall would join the watch because it was fun for him- it was great for the adult crew on watch, too, because talking together made it easier to stay awake and alert. During the day he would stand 1 hour watches solo, so that we could sleep or manage boat chores. 

3. Being rested helps keep a positive attitude. Feeling tired, queasy, bored, scared make some people less pleasant, and then there otherwise chipper self. Being 1000 miles from land can enhance all of this and rub off on the other crewmembers. In general, and especially with kids that pick up on things, a whole passage can go from being ok or uncomfortable, to downright miserable... and potentially lead to bad decisions. There were boats out there in such a state, so I put this in as one of those mental prep things.

Passage Safety I: Boat Handling & Communications

Thanks to our friend Laura on Just A Minute for putting the question out there in response to our FAQ- looking for elaboration on safety precautions and procedures for long offshore passages. Jamie's email back to her got really long, so I'm breaking it into some more digestible chunks for the blog.

As always... fellow cruisers, what would you add?

Boat Handling


Niall & Jamie staying attached to Totem

1. Be diligent about wearing a PFD and/or safety harness. Truthfully, we didn’t always wear them, but common sense prevails. At night, in weather, and anytime you leave the cockpit- no matter how short the time or how close the distance. Two people were lost off boats when we were in Vanuatu, the kind of reminder nobody wants to hear. Fundamentally, they weren't attached, and stuff happened. For prep, discuss with your sailing partner(s) so everyone is on the same page about usage and what's OK.

2. Setup/use a boom preventer.

3. Know how/when to reef/unreef in different wind angles/strengths. Reefing at night, when you’re tired, in a squall, going downwind tends to be more challenging.

4. Figure out likely chafe spots (lines and sails) and plan ahead for what you’ll to too reduce it- and how you'll handle it if there's meaningful wear during the passage.

5. Seize all shackles, meaning... don’t forget those mainsheet block shackles, etc.

6. Use strops (loops made of webbing or line). Jamie is a huge fan of these and they have been really, really useful on Totem. Have one ready for us on the boom should the mainsheet, preventer, reef block, etc. fail . In addition to webbing, ¼” Spectra is useful for smaller diameter strops, should shackles fail. We made three strops between Mexico and the Marquesas to deal with various gear failures, and used several more as part of normal boat handling.

7. Tie down everything on deck. While you're at it, make sure the deck is as absolutely clear as possible.

8. Don’t trust lifelines. Not even going to get into not trusting netting on lifelines. Just... don't.

Communications


Niall checks into the 'net underway

1. We liked staying in touch via SSB. The PPJ net was sometimes tedious just because of the volume of boats, but we never missed listening. The PACSEA net is the hands down best net in terms of efficiency and dealing with emergencies. We've said it before, but these are the guys you want watching your back! We also had mini-nets with closer friends. If you haven't participated in nets before, it helps to begin listening and practicing with checking in before you take off to get a feel for it.

2. Tell friends/family the passage plan before departing. Designate a shore side emergency contact that understands passages. Then if your parents get nervous about not hearing from you, they call the contact rather than initiating a CG search. It’s important to communicate that being out of contact or being “overdue” doesn’t mean there is a problem. You have ways of communicating problems (EPIRB, SSB, etc). We always update the notes field in our EPIRB registration with details about the passage, too- dates, destinations, etc.

On a related note: we posted blog updates daily underway to the Marquesas. My parents recieve these posts via email, and could feel more comfortable knowing that although they couldn't reach us directly- we were OK. Great, until our SSB stopped working! PREPARE YOUR FAMILY, so they don't freak out if they suddenly stop hearing from you- because things are probably just peachy!

There is lots of room to expand on communication suggestions depending on the use of sat phones, SPOT (which we dropped after Mexico because it doesn't sufficiently cover the Pacific islands... as in, it mostly doesn't cover them), dolphin carriers, notes in bottles and the perennial favorite, mid-Pacific smoke signalling.

Next time... dealing with fatigue.

Comments on the FAQ

Our friend Brian on the M/V Furthur, a Selene ocean trawler, reposted our FAQ on his blog and made some great additions from his perspective. We first met Brian in Mexico and expect to see him soon here in Sydney- he's traveled many of the same miles along the way. I hope other cruisers can benefit from what we can share of our experiences. Anyone else have more to add?

We appreciate the comments & direct mail. Our answer to Laura from the Lagoon Cat Just a Minute (see comments) on safety prep turned into a lengthy reply that will have to be another post soon. Hopefully, we all have peaceful passages with beautiful sunsets- like this one off the coast of Australia- but there's no insurance like good preparation.

FAQ: Preparing for a Pacific crossing

Over the last few months, we've had a progressive number of questions from friends who are getting ready for their own Pacific crossing. I've aggregated the most common questions, and provided some information based on our experience this year. These answers are in the context of our 2010 path from La Cruz, Mexico (near Puerto Vallarta) to Sydney, Australia. We went through French Polynesia, the Cook Islands (stopping only in Suwarrow), Tonga, Fiji, Vanuatu, and New Caledonia. It is far from exhaustive, but maybe it will be helpful for some of our pre-cruising or pre-Pacific blog readers. I know I had many of these questions in my mind during the year leading up to our departure. Additions, clarifications, and questions all welcome- please comment or email me directly.

Arriving in Sydney

Q: Is it complicated to check out of the country from Mexico? How does it work?

TOTEM: Our experience with clearing Mexico (from Nuevo Vallarta) was simple, but every port seems to do this a little differently. Talk to the Port Captain to find out the process where you are. In 2010, we were doing our pre-departure prep in La Cruz, but the Port Captain did not did not do clearances at that time. He directed us to Nuevo Vallarta, so we checked out and took the boat to the Port Captain's dock (his requirement). The Port Captain called immigration to come to his office and complete our immigration clearance. A few pesos later (a nominal fee based on boat tonnage was levied- they took Visa, we didn't need currency) and you're cleared to sail away. The whole process took about two hours, most of which was spent twiddlign our thumbs waiting for immigration to arrive.

Q: How much prep work is needed to understand all the laws and rules for checking in/out of country? Did you do a lot of prep work on check in and clearance procedures for each country before you left?

TOTEM: This is easy to prep. We compared our (sometimes out of date) copy of Landfalls of Paradise with the latest on Noonsite and of course, the coconut telegraph. For US and Canadian citizens, the ONLY place _we visited_ that required a visa in advance for the standard 1-3 month stay was Australia (which is readily completed online- no embassy visit required). There were only two countries were advance notice to authorities was required: Fiji and Australia. In both cases, basic information (ETA, boat stats, crew stats) is sent via email to a generic address, with a minimum number of days before your arrival. The details are well publicized via Noonsite, the country tourism site, and are generally well discussed between cruisers in the last port.

Q: Were you happy with the agent in French Polynesia?

TOTEM: Having an agent in F.P. was a good choice for us. It is a great alternative to the hassle (especially since we don't speak French) and expense (probably at least as much, after losing money on all the transaction fees among bond requirements for our family). When you look at it that way, Francesco is a bargain... and he deals with everything, so you can just enjoy being in a beautiful place.

Q: Have you found in your stops en route to Australia that you need Third Party Liability Insurance?

TOTEM: Not a single customs/immigration official ever asked us for insurance proof- I don’t think they care. The only place we were asked if we had a policy was at a marina in Denerau, Fiji, our first dock in ~6 months. The only other marina we used (in Noumea, New Cal) did not ask. In Fiji, they didn't care what the policy was or want to see it or need a policy number or anything. They just wanted us to check the box for 'yes', which is probably a requirement of their own liability policy.

Q: Did you find the 90 FP visa restriction cumbersome?

TOTEM: 90 days seems short now, but in hindsight, we would have spent less time in F.P. Once we decided that we were going all the way to Australia (an epiphany when we were in Tahiti)- suddenly, 90 days was way more than we needed to allocate to FP, and we would rather have had the days in Fiji or Vanuatu.

Q: Did you encounter any issues with the restrictive NZ laws when you went through the Cooks i.e. dumping meats, veggies, fruits, etc.

TOTEM: Our only stop in the Cooks was in Suwarrow. The resident caretakers in Suwarrow were very reasonable- be respectful and responsible, but don’t worry about having things taken from you there. I heard mixed reports from boats who visited other ports in the Cooks: some were inspected, many weren’t. It’s easy enough to plan ahead if you will go to a port that is likely to have an inspection, in which case, just don’t buy out the butcher before you leave Tahiti.

Q: Budgeting/Cruising kitties are obviously individualized but to many it is always a concern. What did you find along the way?

TOTEM: The budget question... this is the million dollar cruising question. You can do this very cheaply, or you can spend a lot of money. There aren't marinas to suck your budget- you'll be anchoring almost everywhere. You don't have to eat in restaurants (until you get to Fiji, where in many places it will be cheaper than cooking on board!). Food is pricey in most places, but we actually spent LESS in food this year than if we'd been in Mexico, because we anticipated this and stocked up on long term provisions... and being in remote places, I wasn't running to the market for my favorite things every few days. Fresh fruit & veggies were always the best deal. For the most part, we just ate what was on the boat (supplemented with fresh caught fish), and most of it was from Banderas Bay. You can spend a bunch of money renting cars and doing inland touring, or you can explore what's accessible by foot or public transport from the shore.

Q: Advance planning for cyclone season?

TOTEM: I think one of the bigger questions to consider is what you do for cyclone season. Do you know where you're going for the 1st year? 2nd year? I understand marinas in NZ may get busy and this is something that could be helpful to plan in advance... but if you don’t' know when you leave, it's something you can still work out (and may even wish to wait on to see where boats you meet are headed, if you want to stay in company). We booked our Sydney marina a few months ago but it would have been nice to research more when we had cheaper wifi in Mexico.

Q: What currency did you take?

TOTEM: We carried a bunch of US$ "just in case" but never needed it. Officials everywhere we went had practical ways to deal with the fact that nobody shows up with local currency. Most take Visa, and those that didn't let you run up to the nearest ATM. We still have all the US$ we left Mexico with! (Unfortunately it's worth a lot less in Australia at the moment...) Provisioning, it was almost all in local currency, but a surprising number of grocery stores took credit cards- even some of the tiny and relatively remote magazins in French Poly.

Q: What was your experience with trading?

TOTEM: We did some, but we could have done more (it’s not something we are cultured to!). I wish we'd started much earlier. We traded for pearls in the Tuamotus, for handicrafts in Tonga and Fiji. We even had friends barter for their tattoos in the Marquesas! Stuff that's desirable? The women handicraft sellers loved nail polish and lipstick. I had a bunch of hair accessories (basic bands and clips). Men often wanted used line from the boat. Condition didn't seem to matter much. We traded tequila for loose pearls in the Tuamotus; and our friends on another boat traded costume jewelry for the same. D-cell batteries are great because people living w/o electricity (more common outside FP) often ran small radios in their homes off these. Things we were asked for: wetsuits, any kind of snorkeling gear, VHF radios, or AM/FM radios.

Q: Internet access and scabbing wifi?

TOTEM: There is no free wifi. It's often available, even in anchorages (at least in FP, which had the most developed networks) but it's really expensive and typically very, very slow. We are heavier internet users, sharing photos and posting to the blog, and ended up spending at least $100 in most countries for internet access- this adds up fast. The only place it was cheap was Fiji: internet cafes were about $1/hour. Meanwhile, if you can anticipate anything you want to download, do it in Mexico while your access is good!

Q: Have you seen many cell phones and how do they work throughout the islands?

TOTEM: We don't have one, but lots of friends did, and found them useful. You need an unlocked phone that takes SIM cards. About $10 could get you a SIM cards in each country and provide phone use for the duration of your stay. If you don’t have a cell phone, don’t sweat it. We didn’t miss having a phone. The couple of times we wanted to make a call, there was always a way to deal with being without a phone.

Q: So how did you occupy your time and deal with the long passages?

TOTEM: Being in the ocean for so long was easy some days and tough on others... but the easier days vastly outnumbered the harder ones. Tough days for me were being seasick (I know better now than to try and "tough it out", but I used to think I could skip meds and deal with it), or coping with my gimpy shoulder. I strained my rotator cuff for my right shoulder the month before we left Mexico, the only Rx is to give it rest and not use it, but that's pretty tough when you are in a seaway and using both arms to hang on or move around. Staying busy helps. I used to knit a lot but the hot weather made it tough to get inspired to be handling wool or yarn. I could read for days and days and be pretty happy, although with three kids on board, I also had other distractions and priorities!

Q: What was the sea state on your PPJ to the Marquesas and beyond?

TOTEM: The sea state was interesting and not what we expected. Multi-directional seas (swell and wind waves) were the norm from Mexico on but I really have to wonder if that was particular to the conditions this year. I don't remember hearing about it from other cruisers before, and it's not what we experienced from Seattle through Mexico. There would be generally a primary swell, and a secondary from an offset direction (sometimes as much as 90/120 deg), which often meant one would be on the quarter and the other would come along and give a more beam-to slap now and then. The beam slaps are not really fun, since the movement can be more unexpected- especially at night. It's not like every day was like this, though. Most of the passages between island groups were like this also, but not all of them. It's hard to know what it's going to be like for you. Our hardest passage was the trip between Bora Bora and Suwarrow. Friends last year told us it was their best passage ever. It’s a box of chocolates, a la Forrest Gump, you could say.

Q: What were your anchoring experiences and need for 2 anchors?

TOTEM: We use only one anchor the overwhelming majority of the time. On the rare (count on one hand) occasions we've used two, it's been to set a stern hook so we could point into a swell or reduce movement in tight anchorages. If you arrive in Hiva Oa you'll be setting a stern hook for your first anchorage after the passage. Anchorages in the Marquesas were more likely to be rolly than anywhere else we visited, but it was still no worse being anchored in La Cruz. One anchoring trick we found really helpful in the coral reef areas (and especially atolls like the Tuamotus) was to rig up a system with fenders that floats your chain. It keeps chain from dragging on the coral and makes it harder to snag coral heads. This has been covered in Cruising World and Lat 38, and is probably in a file on Yahoo group site for the PPJ.

Q: Before you arrived in Australia did you need a transformer?

TOTEM: Because we didn't stay in marinas much (and there are so very few... don't count on it, anyway. Along the path we took, I can count the marinas between Fr. Poly and NZ on one hand), I can't make generalizations about dock power, but you have to be able to deal without plugging in anyway so I think it's kind of a moot point. We'll be dockbound for a while in Australia and will probably get a transformer here.

Q: How did you get your weather info especially since your SSB was down so often?

TOTEM: Getting weather via nets isn't great on the big crossing. We're really just getting the reports of localized weather at the locations of other vessels checking in. Useful, but not the big picture either. Other nets you'll participate in later often have weather. The net that evolved between cruisers after arrival in FP included a weather synopsis at the beginning. A handful of people traded responsibility for putting it together. It wasn't rocket science, just collecting and sharing the stuff available through the radio, but a huge help for boats like us that had lost communications. Farther west, nets like Fiji's Rag of the Air give grib updates to boats checking in based on their position.

Q: What was your experience with navigational aides and cruising guides?

TOTEM: None of the South Pacific Cruising type overview books have enough detail to be a day-to-day cruising guide (we are SO spoiled with the guides for Mexico!). Some are just plain abysmal in terms of organization and clarity, but it’s still helpful to have one of them on hand as a basic reference. We had Landfalls of Paradise, and it was adequate as a high level overview by country. Beyond that, to have any kind of good detail- especially with regard to anchorages- you may want to acquire a unique guide for each country you visit. Expect even the most recent of them to have dated information, but be sufficient as a reference for common anchorages.

For French Poly., the best we found was “The Guide to Navigation and Tourism in French Polynesia”. People say it’s out of print, but call around- it can be found. There is also a good, but older, guide for the Marquesas- I think it’s called Exploring the Marquesas. This one is on the PPJ site- print/bind in MX. If you think you’ll spend much time there, it’s worth getting. Charlie’s is fine.

For the Cooks… I don’t know. We had info from Charlie’s Charts for Suwarrow, our only stop in the Cooks.

For Tonga, if you spend much time there, you'll want Sailingbird’s cruising guide. I didn’t even know it existed until we got to Neiafu. Nothing else comes close. If you'll only visit the Vava'u group (which, if you're planning to go all the way to Australia in one season, is likely), then just print out the Moorings guide from the PPJ site. It's perfectly sufficient.

Incredibly, Fiji does not have a guide book that’s worthwhile. The existing books are based on 20-30 year old research with 10-20 year old edition updates. It’s pathetic! Cruisers share tons of stuff via the internet and thumb drives relevant to the S Pac once you’re out here (and somewhat in MX, and on the PPJ website- it’s just harder to find). For Fiji, people passed around MaxSea tracks. These were really helpful to get an idea for where other boats went and how people wove through the reefs… it is one big reef minefield there.

The best guides for Vanuatu and New Caledonia are actually computer-based programs to download, and not printed guides. I don’t have the URL handy for Vanuatu but it should easy to find by looking for “the Tusker guide” for Vanuatu. For New Cal, it’s www.cruising-newcaledoniTotem:com.

Thankful to be here.

off for a walk in Coffs Harbour

Our quiet family Thanksgiving dinner last night, we went around the table talking around things we're thankful for. To a one, the kids all agreed: they are grateful to be out sailing, to be living this life.

Getting to know Australia

Same same but different

At first blush, Australia is so superficially similar to North America- the differences sometime catch you by surprise. It's like there's a little unexpected twist to everyday things.

The coastline at our landfall, Coffs Harbour, for example- looked so much like the Oregon coast. Evergreen trees, rolling surf crashing onshore, little islets just offshore... but look more closely, and it's all done in tropical shades. Those conifers are actually Norfolk pines, which aren't actually pines and would not survive in PNW temperatures. The noisy birds overhead that looked like crows when silhouetted? Some kind of parrot, when their emerald feathers are seen in the sunlight.

This is going to be fun.

Land ho!

At four days and 21 hours, Jamie sighted the coast of Australia. Poetically enough, it rose from pink clouds at sunrise. I was off watch sleeping (and happy to stay that way), but he woke Niall up for a bleary first look at our destination.

Australia emerges from the pink morning haze

Later that morning, as the shore came into focus, we all sat giddily in the cockpit. It's hard to describe the excitement of the moment, but it all feels right. I'm grateful for the safe completion of another major passage, and ready to rest.

Day 5 - Almost there

Sunrise in the Coral Sea

The wind has backed to the Northeast, which means we're running dead downwind. It's also lightened up considerably to 10-15 knots. We motorsailed, which is easier on the autopilot, a more comfortable motion, and ensures we can get in during business hours on Friday.

I'm devouring a stack of cast-off magazines from a fellow cruiser- mostly fashion oriented, and about half of them Australian. I'm hoping for cues to some of the culture in our destination as well as easing my brain into the fact I'll have to actually pay attention to what I wear soon. But the shiny pages of scrawny models bound up in "look at me" clothes feels false and foreign. So does the message on almost every page, pitching something "essential" to buy. It's entertaining, mostly, but makes me wonder how the adjustment to first world life will sit. In case we missed the point, one magazine is actually named "Shop Till you Drop". Maybe the Aussie fasion mag should gets point for telling it like it us, but something inside me resists.

Siobhan flips pages with me. Her game is to point at something she wants on every page. This could be people for her imaginary game ("I'll be her, and her, and you can be that girl") to things she wants to eat or use (a pizza on one page, an electronic gadget on another). Maybe she'll be our material girl... she's already our fashionista.

MIKE/IO: If all is well on Totem give us a quick tune now please.

BEHAN/TOTEM: (hits tune button)

MIKE/IO: got it, good! all's well on IO. Here's a position- if you are within 20 miles of this mark, give me a tune now.

MIKE/IO: OK, you're within 20 miles of that position. If you are east of this position, along your rhumb line towards New Cal- give a tune now please.

MIKE/IO: OK, good! If you are within 10 miles of this position...

...etc.

It takes some time, but Mike usually pegs us within just a couple of miles.

Day 4 - Fickle Autopilot

Big news today- we GYBED! Yes, it's exciting things like this that make the day of the passage sailor.

Petrels circling Totem

The autopilot needs to be babied. When he opened up the gear box for another lube, Jamie found brass shavings- a sign the planetary gears are wearing. At least we replaced the plastic gears back in Mexico- they would never have lasted this long! We are taking steps to lighten the load on the autopilot- hand steering more, motorsailing when it makes sense. With just two of us trading watches, hand steering all the time would be exhausting. Niall is able to help, which is huge, and we can still rely on the autopilot in some conditions. A new autopilot is now just another boat buck looming in our future.

We're making great progress. Besides near ideal conditions for Totem- 20-25 knots, right on the beam- we're riding the East Australian Current (those who know it can now quote several relevant lines from Finding Nemo...). We've gone long stretches of averaging 9-10 knots, rarely seen less than 6, and occasionally surfed over 14. Not bad!

Ocean-dwelling petrels circle Totem. These dove-gray birds spend most of their life far out at sea. It's beautiful to watch them glide over the water, perfectly anticipating the lift of the waves and and staying just inches above them. Occasionally a wing is very diliberately dipped to skim through the surface: it's magical to watch.

At 6:45pm (NSW time) this evening, Totem crossed into Australian waters. We watched and counted down the minutes until this first hurdle of arrival: it was an exciting moment! It looks like we'll arrive in plenty of time on Friday to complete clearance and avoid the nearly $300 additional in fees that come with checking in on the weekend.

Day 3 - Blue skies!

Totem charges along on a reach.

I wake to the "beep-beep-beep" sound of the autopilot spontaneously shutting down. A less auspicious beginning to our third day, which is otherwise bright and blue. Jamie spends a few hours hand steering. I get breakfast and monitor the morning radio net while skimming through the autopilot manual. The troubleshooting guide lines up with Jamie's gut: excess friction is causing an automatic shutdown of the drive unit before the motor can be damaged from working too hard. I take over steering the waves while Jamie digs up a can of WD40 and crams himself into the lazarette to lube up our old Raymarine as best he can. We gingerly shift back to the autopilot, helping the wheel along to minimize effort on the drive unit. It seems to work, so Jamie and I sit in the cockpit and eventually breathe a sigh of relief.

Jamie not only wore pants last night, but a fleece and sea boots. I resisted the boots, and neither of us have consented to put socks on yet. We're just not ready to condescend to wearing them again.

Even though we can't transmit, the HF radio nets are a key part of our day. Along with friends making the passage to Oz concurrently, we've organzied an informal net with twice daily check-ins. Mike from IO runs the show and is our advocate and guardian angel, tracking Totem's estimated position and sharing weather updates for our benefit.

When the SSB stopped working in Vanuatu, we found that our tune-up was still audible at significant distanc, and we use this single chirp as a basis to communicate. Mike asks us yes/no questions, and we confirm positive responses by hitting the tune button. It can be a bit cumbersome, as the tune process takes about 30 seconds before timing out, but it's effective. Mike has gotten our position within a radius of just a few miles at each of our twice daily nets, and read forecasts taht we aren't able to download ourselves. It is truly wonderful to feel so looked after by our friends, to know that even in this vast expanse of ocean, we aren't alone.

We hear over the net that FlyAweigh has broken a lower stay on their port side. They've dropped all sails and are doing fine motoring through with plenty of fuel to reach Australia, but it's yet another reminder. Anything can happen, an you have to be able to cope with a spectrum of unexpected events. Their boat was commissioned barely a year ago- who would expect this level of rigging problem?

The dryer, cooler air is an exciting reminder of our destination. Pants, foulie jacket, hat and boots were essential for night watch, and I finally submitted ot the tyranny of the socks... sliding into fleece to warm my toes.

Day 2 - Cool and gray

Lumpy gray seas reflect the sunless skes, too overcast to cast a shadow. Our cockpit cushions have a light salt grit from waves that slapped the hull and splashed over the coamings last night. The sea state has eased considerably from our first day, so I cooked a hearty breakfast for the crew/family of eggs, bacon and potatoes. We've all shaken the "blahs" that often accompany the first days of a passage as our bodies adjust to the constant motion. A few squares of dark chocolate, usualy reserved for the wee hours, find their way into my morning watch.

Niall and Jamie in the cockpit- bundled up, but still refusing to condescend to socks.

The children have slid easily into their passage routine as Jamie and I have slid into ours. Their quiet times spent reading or listening to audiobooks are interspersed with rambunctious wrestling in the aft cabin's big bunk. We shift watches in a seamless rhythm found through trial and error over thousands of sea miles.

Late at night, leaning over the binnacle and looking astern, I can just make out the phosphorescence that marks our path. Clouds obscure the stars and no moon shed light, making this the inkiest of nights I can remeber at sea. We charge along at well over hull speed, surving down the front of three meter wave fronts. Without light to expose our surroundings, the feeling of speed is magnified and exhilarating.

Day 1 - departing New Caledonia for Australia

After waiting for an early morning squall to pass through, we headed toward the pass through the reef. Looking for a push to get away from the coast and a full charge to our house battery bank before starting the passage, we motoredsailed away from our last of 24 tropical islands visited this year. Gray skies were cracked by widening spots of blue, as the roll of ocean swells took over from the choppy fetch in the lagoon.

We have a series of reminders that this passage closes a chapter for us on Totem, the end of a glorious season crossing the tropical Pacific. Already it feels distinctly different. The breeze is cool; I can't remember the last time I wanted to wear pants, but they're suddenly essential. Overhead, a contrail cuts through the clearing sky. It stands out starkly, and we all stare at this once familiar sight that has become entirely unfamiliar to us.

We're a little anxious about the weather, but not enough to wait in New Caledonia any longer. From one update to the next, forecasts have shifted meaningfully several times in the last few days. With our HF radio unable to transmit, and no sat phone for backup, our options for weather updates are limited. But all signs point towards departure. Degradation could mean discomfort, but not danger.

We think our waiting has paid off, but know we'll be skirting a trough of intensified wind between two weather systems that would be nice to keep tabs on. For the first time in many months, I have dosed with Meclazine before departure. I'm grateful for it now: the swells are nearly on our beam and Totem rolls sharply to starboard, but we're feeling fine. My world is full with the joyful feeling of wind in my hair as we sail for Australia.

On our way!

Landfall in Australia!

Totem is in Australia! Our passage from Noumea to Coffs was a little shy of 900 miles, and Totem rocketed here in five days + 1 hour. It was near ideal conditions for us (average around 20 knots with apparent mostly square on the beam), and the most comfortable sea state we've had in a long time. How delightful to have reasonably predictable swells from a single direction... trust me... those bi- and tri- directionals are no picnic.

We're taking some time to recover, but plan to head for Sydney as soon as we're rested up and the weather allows. Meanwhile, I'm going to dribble out a series of posts from my log during the passage.

Jamie scanning the Coffs Harbour entrance

Oso and IO, our comrades divine

As my good friends know, I like writing bad poetry to mark occasions (birthdays are a favorite). The was shared over a bowl of kava with our good friends from the M/V Oso Blanco and S/V IO, on the last evening we spent together in Fiji. We parted ways the next day: Oso remaining in Fiji before heading to New Zealand, as we headed west for Vanuatu and then Australia at season's end.

As we take off for Australia and point to a different port than our good friends on IO, it seems worth sharing. Just remember, by definition, it's *bad* poetry...

ODE TO FELLOW TRAVELERS

Oso and IO our comrades divine,

We know that our happiness is also thine.

Those who call parting "sweet sorrow" don't know

the circles of life in which we cruisers flow.

We know there's a time and a place and a boat;

we just have to wait and we'll all be afloat,

in some quiet atoll or islet or bay,

sharing a sunset, rehashing the day.

So when you hear 'gayjoe' or 'rummy' or hey!!

You'll know fellow travelers are coming to play.

rafted together in Fiji

playing cards on Oso. Again!

"Stuck" in New Caledonia? I don't think so!

We're finally on our way to Australia, but our stay in New Caledonia stretched out from a few days (planned) to almost three weeks (definitely not planned). The primary reason was the weather, and our desire to make the final leg to Australia in good conditions.

Fundamentally, there are a couple of ways to deal with this unwanted delay. One is to get very frustrated thinking about all the things waiting for us in Sydney- the things that need to be organized, the plans for our future that can't be worked out until we are there. For a few days, I did a pretty good job of being grumbly on that front and willing the weather to bend to my desire. Not terribly productive.

The other way is to simply accept the reality we are given, and make the best of the situation. At one point, I had the epiphany that I had to simply declare that we were on vacation. Other than last minute bottom cleaning, the boat was basically ready to go. There are always projects, but nothing was essential. The best antidote for fretting is to chuck it all and go have fun!

Since we hadn't expected to have any time to enjoy New Caledonia, so we didn't really know what to do at first. Thankfully, this is an easy "problem" to solve. We have had a blast spending time with friends we've known across the Pacific. We've been inseperable from IO for months, of course. We've known FlyAweigh since our days in the La Cruz marina in Mexico as well, but ever since we checked out of the country the same morning in Puerto Vallarta, we've usually been an island group behind them. We met the kid boats Merlin and Victoria in French Polynesia, and periodically reunited kid packs from among our flock.

Adventure #1 was the aquarium field trip blogged last week. At that point, we still thought we were mere days from departure. Ha! Another week was in store. No problem- it was just time to get out of the smelly marina (pipes dumping raw sewage emptied right at the top of the dock... nice). The lagoon, on the other hand, was spectacular. I cannot being to describe the brilliant shades of blue, from turquoise to periwinkle.

For most of a week, we anchored off an islet named Maitre. The only structures onshore were part of a lovely resort. Happily, they welcomed cruisers as long as we kept our profile, you know, subtle. We couldn't quite blend in with the Japanese honeymooners in their matching outfits, but kept our profile low while enjoying the pool and freshwater showers. The kids had a ball walking the beach, claiming "snake island" for their own, and herding parrotfish in the shallows.

We all piled onto FlyAweigh one morning and cruised out to a less trafficked part of the lagoon. This is literally the largest lagoon in the world, so that wasn't too difficult. We thought our days of epic snorkeling were over for a while. I am so happy to be wrong! Gorgeous corals, new reef fish, octopus, cuttlefish, eagle rays, and more. I dubbed one hunk of rock that Mike and Jamie favored for spearfishing (oh, we ate very well!) a "rest stop on the turtle highway." I have never seen so many turtles, and I have never seen such large turtles, but there they were. From the 4+ foot green turtle with a ridiculously big head, to the graceful hawksbills that glided through- one after another after another.

If only our underwater camera hadn't stopped working in Fiji (to be fair, I took that little Fuji to depths it did not belong in) we'd have underwater eye candy to share. Instead, you have to settle for a picture of Kim from s/v Victoria, who is clearly telling a grand fish story:

Allan and Alison broke out their windsurfer. Jamie is a natural: despite about a 20 year gap since his last windsurfing experience, he took off immediately. He opted to cruise way out into the lagoon; Allan, on the other hand, had fun aiming as close to the stern of Totem as humanly possible (and grinning like a wildman the whole time).

Jamie spent hours in the water with Niall, giving him his first lesson.

Mairen decided to commemorate the whole day by helping me make a dessert with a paper-and-lego windsurfing diorama featured on top.

Alison has a lovely, calming, positive presence... just being around her helped my perspective on the unwanted wait in New Cal.

Meanwhile, the girls adopted Allan:

That is, when they weren't inflicting themselves on Mike and Hyo. Fortunately, they are not only used to this, they seem to encourage it.

As usual, lovely memories are made when we least expect them. Saying goodbye was difficult- we're not all sure exactly when we'll meet up again. I'm going to cherish the gifted days we had with these characters for a long time.

Just another day on Totem

My parents recently asked for "normal everyday" pictures of what's happening with the children on board. It's hard to say what a normal day is, since they change as often as the scenery around us- but there are common themes. Here are a few snippets from recent days on board Totem.

Niall has been working on knots and splicing with Jamie.

The girls crafting designs from popsicle sticks. Siobhan made a pretty spiral and announced it would be the top of our christmas tree (not sure exactly how that's going to come together, since December is summertime in Australia). Flotsam from the morning scattered about the table- a book of Greek myths, biology lab projects, and a field guide for fish identification.

Niall is an excellent teacher to Mairen and Siobhan- ask them, and they'll tell you, he taught them how to swim. Siobhan loves her dinghy lessons.

OK, so this isn't "normal everyday" stuff- it was a special treat- but it's the kind of cooperative learning that happens all the time on board. We have some packaged science projects stashed, and I broke out the owl pellet dissection kit on a flat passage day recently. They had a blast going through the pellets, guessing what might be inside, and using the tools in the kit to try and identify the skeletal remains of different critters within.

When we're in a pretty bay, hardly a day goes by that we're not swimming. One of our last days in Fiji, Mairen and I snorkeled from the boat to shore and did some beachcombing. Siobhan has the eagle eye for cowrie shells, but Mairen amazes me with the natural beauty she finds.

Resting in the evening on our new-from-IO hammock, strung up on the bow. They were all belting the classic "Lollipop"... Siobhan just couldn't stop!

Halloween in New Caledonia

Amazing what you can do with sunscreen and green food coloring.

We keep finding more silver linings to our present situation: waiting in New Caledonia for a good window for our passage to Australia. Sure, it's frustrating- we expected to be there by now, settling into a "home" marina in Cammeray... checking out the nieghborhood... learning about new surroundings. I chafe a little more every day that we sit here.

The kids, on the other hand, are thrilled. Halloween would have been lost in the shuffle of a passage if we'd left on our expected timeline. Instead, they celebrated with friends. There were costumes both cute and ghoulish, and a passel of other cruising kids to scare up treats from around the anchorage.

The junior crews of Totem, Merlin, and Victoria

We wondered how many people would be prepared for our dinghy full of trick or treaters. Surprisingly, quite a lot! I think quite a few boaters weren't expecting to give out candy, but scrounged up treats for the kids anyway.

Greg (s/v Merlin) takes the children from boat to boat

We hung out with other parents back on Merlin, and whey they returned, they had more than just successfully filled goodie bags. They found MORE children to join them! Everyone under the age of 13 piled into the main cabin to trade candy, and watch "It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown." Here we are, thousands of miles from home, but the fundamental goodness for the kids in celebrating a holiday are preserved.

I think we'll let the weather angst slide.

Haven't we seen enough underwater?

With the weather delaying our departure from New Caledonia, we've had the chance to do a little exploring. Our first foray: the aquarium!

The aquarium? After spending day after day after day snorkeling in pristine, world-class reefs these last six months? What could we possibly see? We piled onto a bus with Mike & Hyo and Allan & Alison (s/v FlyAweigh) and headed off to find out.

The answer, it turns out, is "a lot." We see some incredibly cool stuff on our own forays, but the fish there have a real knack for swimming *away* from you. We could sit in one place and stare at these for as long as we wished.

Having the luxury of going on a weekday, we had it nearly to ourselves: there's not much more peaceful than room a softly lit by light shimmering through the water... even if that water is a big tank.

And of course, when you're IN the water, there's the whole pesky breathing business. I have been having more and more fun freediving, but what I can do is still limited. It's hard to hang as long as you want, as deep as you want, when you're using snorkel gear... and the glimpses of beauty are sometimes pretty brief. Here, we could linger - or move on. Siobhan was almost a taskmaster leading Alison around the displays.

And of course, even if I was a star freediver, you just won't see these critters without special gear.

Besides, I have to admit: it's nice to have a plate of Plexiglas between your bare skin and this guy.

The leopard shark (a.k.a. zebra shark) has been one of Niall's favorites sea creatures. Seeing it glide by triggered the one of the best insights of the whole journey: hearing the kids oooo and aaahhh over it, and then reflect on how much better it was to see one in the wild.

Yep. The book is pretty much always better than the movie, too.

American Dream - the movie

Stuff. We all have an abundance of things that we don't need, right? I'm pretty sure everyone reading this falls into that category. As we fulfill these artificial needs for a better TV, a newer car, a bigger house... what is the real cost?

One of the big motivators for us to move onto the boat and take off on this adventure was to shed Stuff, and to get off the wheel of acquisition. To shed the what made our lives busy with things that seemed urgent, but weren't really important at all in the grand scheme. To find a way to live a little more simply, with more time together as a family, and a lighter tread on the earth. To live by our values instead of just hoping to "someday."

In the year leading up to our departure, we connected with a filmmaker, Joel Christian McEwen, who is inspired along similar lines. Joel was making a documentary about the crisis of the American dream: when did it change from the freedom and opportunity to build a good life, to the business of acquiring more and more *stuff*? Remember that bumper sticker... "He who dies with the most toys, wins." How did our society get there?

Joel has gathered the stories of people who are opting out of the assumed path we march down to acquire. One of those stories is ours. There's a 16 minute promotional cut you can watch here, or checkout the film's website- http://americandreamthemovie.com. Out here in the land of minimal bandwidth and poor access to the internet, we haven't been able to see it all yet (this is killing me!)- but take a peek for us, and share what you think.

Film is a powerful vehicle for transformation. I believe deeply in Joel's message, and would love to see the power of his work help effect social change. The film, hopefully, will be released this year- but Joel is still looking for funding to get it completed and bring to the public. If you, or anyone you know, is interested in sponsorship or investing (they can also take tax-deductable donations), drop a note to pr@americandreamthemovie.com.

Filming in our Bainbridge Island house, January 2008

Breezing through New Caledonia

New Caledonia is unfortunately just a pit stop on the way to Australia for Totem. We've stopped here to allow ourselves a shorter passage to Oz, and the best weather information before departure. With our SSB down, we won't be actively participating in the nets- minimizing time and maximizing advance info will help keep the passage safe and comfortable.

When we first sketched out our path to Australia, we seriously considered skipping over New Caledonia altogether. In a way, then, being here is a gift- the chance to see one more place, one more country. Still, it's a little frustrating to be here and not have the time to explore and get to know it better.

Old and new in Noumea

In truth, we feel that way about every place we've visited across the Pacific.

This past week, I traded email with a friend from Mexico- she and her family sailed south about a year ago. They're considering changing their plans this coming year, from coastal cruising in the Americas to crossing the Pacific. The catch is that they're going on a shorter timeframe: they would like to gt to get all the way to Australia, but need to be back (via jet airplane, not return sailing) in the US by August. I surprised myself with how negative my gut reaction was to their plans: it felt like such a rush.

Really, we don't like rushing.

Why did I respond that way? Well, it wasn't a rational reaction at all. Their plans are not so different than what we've done- we've had only one more month, which is easily shaved off with a higher ratio of passage-to-anchorage days, and a handful fewer places visited. I hope the WhatChaGonnaDo crew finds a way to make it work.

Yes, there is always more to see. No, there's never enough time to see everything, or engage as deeply as we'd like. I definitely believe, after our experience, that one season in the tropical Pacific is criminally short. Two seasons MIGHT begin to get it right. Three would probably be perfect. But you can't live with the "woulda, shoulda, coulda" regrets. We've had such an amazing experience, and I'm grateful EVERY DAY to be here, to be living this life with my family.

I'm just feeling a little rushed right now, and wishing we could linger.

IO, anchored off Lifou- one of New Caledonia's Loyalty Islands