Ruby Slippers

feels like a milestone for me. After 8 months and almost 10,000 ocean miles, it feels like we have “arrived”. Tahiti is kind of the half-way point, and by now we feel a bit like seasoned cruisers.  We have lived through Montezuma’s Revenge, the long crossings, the “low and dangerous” atolls, and the French. 

We have explored very little of Tahiti, because we have been doing boat projects since we arrived.  We are at an actual dock, which we haven’t experienced since Costa Rica.  Our boat has had many fresh water showers since we got here, and has shed her salty skin.  Our water maker now works, and Jim has invented a few more items that make Ruby Slippers more efficient and comfortable.  I’ll let him tell about them in a later update.

The large northern part of Tahiti is called Tahiti Nui, and the small southern end is called Tahiti Iti.  There are some beautiful cruising grounds along the coast and between the two parts of the island, we are told.  We plan to explore them in the next couple of days, then go to Moorea, Huahine and Bora Bora.  Our French Polynesian visa expires on June 30^th, and we have not been invited to stay longer than that, which is okay.  Although beautiful, it is very expensive here, and well, very French.

Molly and Jessie celebrated their 13^th birthday today.  They got lots of great handmade presents from their cruising friends, a big homemade breakfast, and dinner in downtown Papeete, and some nice e-mails from friends and family.  Their big present is that their friend, Rosalie, is coming for a visit in one week.  She will be escorted by my sister Jami, who is MY present!  We are all a-twitter over seeing faces from home.

On a personal note, I no longer have dreadlocks.  I felt like I had a dead, matted cat on my head, and it just wasn’t a good feeling.  My straight, fine, blonde hair is simply not conducive to the Bob Marley/Lenny Kravitz look.  So, now I have about ¼” hair on my head, and look like I am channeling Vanessa Redgrave in a concentration camp movie, or maybe Dame Judi Densch.  No more dead cats for me. 

We will write more about the Society Islands when we spend some time exploring.  In the meantime, there are some new pictures in the media gallery, of our halcyon days in the Tuamotus.  Enjoy!

last night.  It was a lot of fun to have Rosalie and Jami here for a 10-day visit.  We got to hear news from home, and got to show them our life aboard.  They got a pretty good taste of the cruising life; storms, toilet paper rationing, military showers, and unbelievable beauty everywhere they looked.

We spent most of our time in Moorea, anchored in either Cook’s Bay or Oponohu Bay.  These bays, on the north side of Moorea, are two gashes in Moorea’s landscape.  They go deep, deep into the land, where the mountains rise above us like giants’ fingers.  Even though we haven’t seen a lot of rain, every surface of Moorea is lush and green.

We found some good snorkeling spots, but the highlight was feeding the tame stingrays that hang out near a red buoy inside of the reef that surrounds Moorea.  This area is called “Stingray World”.  No sign, of course, but people seem to know where to go to meet these docile creatures.  The minute you pull up in your dinghy, you are surrounded by 15-20 stingrays.  It is wise to bring some raw fish in a baggie, otherwise they lose interest quickly.  When you jump into the waist-deep water, the stingrays circle and nudge you, begging for food like hungry puppies.  If you hold your bag of fish high, they will suck up your torso like little Hoover vacuum cleaners, reaching for the food.  Their eyes and nose are on the top of their heads, and their mouths on are on the bottom.  If you hold the food in your hand, they will snorkel around with their mouths and suck it right out of your hand.  Their skin feels like velvet, and they are very careful to keep the barbs on their tails away from the hands that feed them.

We got into some pretty rough seas while coming up the coast from south Tahiti to Moorea.  Jami and Rosie were not comfortable at all in this bucking, lurching boat, careening through the dark toward our anchorage.  They searched our eyes for signs of fear, just like I do in an airplane during times of turbulence.  I figure, if the flight attendants are calm, things must be okay.  After that adventure, we made sure the weather was behaving before we left an anchorage.

We sailed to Papeete for a change of scenery, and tied to the wharf right in the middle of town.  It was exciting to see the hustle and bustle, and visit the open-air market for last minute gifts for the family back home.  There is a big square near the wharf where every evening trucks park in a circle and open up their backs to reveal fancy cook stoves, refrigerators, and food of all kinds.  These are called “Les Roulettes”, and resemble the roach coaches that drive around Seattle and feed workers during the lunch hour.  Some of them prepare crepes, some pizza, and some Asian food.  All meals are under $10.00, and the food is excellent.  We ate there one night, and left the next morning for the marina where we would get ready to take Jami and Rosie to the airport.  All too soon, it was over.

Our visas have expired for French Polynesia.  We would have stayed a bit longer, but Americans can only stay for 90 days.  We will leave here on June 30th and sail into Bora Bora for a peak, then head for the Cook Islands.  It is much less expensive there, and everyone speaks English.  I think our experience here would have been more fulfilling if we spoke French. I guess we should have thought about that earlier…

The wind is blowing 25-30 knots today; I’m glad we are tucked into a marina and not at anchor out by the reef.  The boats out there are rolling and look very uncomfortable.  Molly and Jessie are redesigning their gecko’s cage, and missing their friend already.  We will start school with a vengeance on Monday.  It sure has been a nice break though – family, friends, and no math!

There is a new set of pictures in the media gallery.  Take a peak!  Jeanna

to make landfall in Hauhine before dark.  The stars looked like diamonds scattered carelessly across dark blue velvet.  There was a full moon, which lighted the bow as I raised the anchor.  We threaded our way out of the bay we were staying in, watching closely for the lighted buoys that mark where the reef is.  Thank goodness for navigational aids!  We motored till we were in deep water, then put up the sails and had a long day with lots of wind.  The current and swells were at odds with each other, and it was a bouncy ride.  Molly and Jessie slept in, then came up on deck with major bed head and chenille marks on their faces.  They squinted into the sunlight and inquired as to our whereabouts, and why the boat was bouncing around, then went back to bed.  No math in these rough conditions!

We made it to Hauhine, about 80 miles from Moorea, just before dark.  We think it is a beautiful spot, but we really won’t know until morning. The wind has picked up, and we have our anchor alarm set, just in case.  I will be on worry-watch, just one step below anchor watch.

The locals on this island are having some sort of celebration.  We can hear singing and the never-ending drum beat.  We know there must be dancing going on. If we weren’t so tired, and if we didn’t feel like we would be intruding, we would go ashore and celebrate, too.  It sounds like a happy, cohesive little community, and we are looking forward to scoping it out tomorrow.  We are about 20 miles from Bora Bora, but we might spend a few days here, first.

These are the names that try our souls:
Raiatea, Rangiroa, Rarotonga, Raroia
Taaoa, Tahaa, Taharoa, Tahuata, Taiohae, Takaroa, Tikehau, Toahotu,
Faaa, Fakarava, Fatu Hiva, Fatu Huka

We have been to or discussed all of these places, and get confused every time.  We try to say them on the radio, mess them up in e-mails, and embarrass ourselves with the locals.  Other cruisers have the same problem; sometimes it feels like we are all aliens from another planet, trying to decipher a brand new language.  There are 12 letters in the Tahitian alphabet, 6 of which are vowels.  Sometimes I feel like I have been to the dentist, and all I can do is slobber a few sounds.

While tied up at the wharf in downtown Papeete, I went to a Catholic church with a cruising friend.  It was full of pageantry, the music was heavenly, and the decorations of fresh flowers and braided palms were amazing to look at.  As I sat there, soaking it all in, I realized that I didn’t have any “requests” for God, just a whole lot of thanks.  My dad used to say that in this life, we are usually having trouble, just coming into trouble, or just getting out of trouble.  It is nice to be in one of those between-trouble zones.

Well, it is the next day now. The wind has been howling all night and all day today.  We have been holed up in our boat, afraid to leave for fear of our anchor dragging.  It’s been too windy for snorkeling or boogie boarding, so we have read, done homework, and made beef stew - just like a winter day at home.  To think it is 90 degrees in the Northwest, and here, in the South Pacific, it is windy and cold - maybe down to 75 degrees!  We haven’t been to shore yet, and the drums and singing have started again for the evening.  Do they do this every night?  Another night of anchor-worrying…

The Bastille, a medieval fortress in Paris, was used as a state prison, housing mostly political prisoners, and people the King didn’t particularly like.  It came to be a symbol of the unfair way that the monarchy ruled.

On July 14, 1789, a mob approached the prison, and demanded that guards hand over their ammunition.  When they refused, the mob stormed the Bastille and set the prisoners free, marking the beginning of the French Revolution.

Somehow, the islands of French Polynesia have taken this holiday as their own, and used it to celebrate their own culture.  There is a huge festival called Heiva, an inter-island contest of singing, dancing, drumming, and traditional acts of manhood such as banana carrying, coconut-opening, out-rigger canoeing, and spearing.  It is celebrated for the entire month of July.  It’s kind of an American Idol meets Star Search meets Stomp, The Musical - type of thing.  Each island has eliminations, coming up with the brightest and best in each category, who then get to go to a larger island and compete against others.

Although we left Papeete before any of the contests began, Bora Bora is also one of the major centers for the finalists to appear.  Last night, we dinghied to town and watched the best of 5 islands in male solo dancer, female solo dancer, and drum group.  It was quite a show.  Most of the dancers were 15-18 years old; the youngest female was only 13.  They performed a dance, telling a story with their hands and hips.  The faster the hips could shake in time to the drum beat, the better the score.  Jim’s eyes were rolling around in their sockets like cartoon eyeballs by the end of the evening.  I’m sure he was just trying to decipher the story being told.

The drum groups were extremely creative in their use of local materials.  Empty plastic Coke bottles were used as drumsticks, while other drummers tied a large bunch of bamboo sticks together and placed them on a saw horse, and used that as one of the drums.  It created an interesting sound.  There were 10-15 people in each group, all banging away in a native beat.  It was very rhythmical - nice beat, easy to dance to.  Costumes, of course, were an important part of the pageantry, and were colorful and inventive.  There were little 2- and 3- year old girls around the perimeter of the sand-covered dance area, who were practicing their hand and hip movements, and were doing a pretty fair job of it!  When Molly and Jessie fell asleep during one of the drum solos, however, we knew it was time to dinghy back to the boat in the dark and go to bed, with that jungle rhythms dancing in our heads.

I don’t know why it has taken us so long to get to Bora Bora.  We kept discovering fun things to do in Raiatea and Tahaa.  We are acting like we have all the time in the world, when, in fact, our visa expired at the end of June and we could be thrown into the Bastille ourselves if we don’t get out of French Polynesia soon.  We found a few lovely snorkeling spots today, and visited with some friends we haven’t seen in a while.  The mountains of Bora Bora are majestic, and very green.  We hope to find some easy hiking trails, and more good dive spots.

The routes from Bora Bora to New Zealand seem to fall into two categories:  the north route and the south route.  This time of year, the consensus is that the north route has the most favorable weather.  We had always planned to go to Rarotonga, in the southern Cook Islands, but now we are thinking of going to Suvarof in the northern Cooks, then to American Samoa, Western Samoa, the small island of Nui, then to Tonga, Fiji and New Zealand.  We will be able to re-provision in American Samoa, and pick up some mail and boat parts.  Jim and I have been to American Samoa; it is a dirty, smelly island whose main source of income is a large fish-processing plant that runs 24/7.  We hear that Western Samoa is quite the opposite; lush, unspoiled, and great cruising grounds.  It is about 700 miles from Bora Bora to Suvarof, and about 500 miles from there to Samoa.  More night watches, coming up…

Right at this very moment, there is a bit of a drama going on.  Tom, a young British man who is single-handing his Sweden Yacht 34, went snorkeling alone off his boat this morning, about 4 hours ago.  Last anyone knew, he went to check his anchor, about 75 feet down, then check Coconut’s anchor, then go spear-fishing.  No one has seen him since.  He is a strong swimmer and diver, but there are many, many boats out on the water, and he could have been hit.  Almost every cruiser anchored in Bora Bora is now in their dinghy, circling the reefs and the passes, looking for Tom.  Molly, Jessie and Jim are out in our dinghy, and I am helping man the VHF radio.  The local police are out looking; if he is still missing in a couple of hours, I am sure helicopters will be summoned.  It is comforting to see the cruising community band together so quickly in an emergency.

Sad, very sad news.  Tom was found lying by Coconut’s anchor.  He had been down there for a couple of hours.  It doesn’t look like anything in particular happened - he wasn’t caught in the anchor chain, or damaged in any way.  It may have been CO2 poisoning or something like that.  The anchor was down pretty deep.  Tom was only 23 years old.  He had taken free diving courses, and was an expert diver.  No one knows whether he was checking the anchor, or if he was spear-fishing down there.  It’s amazing that the current didn’t sweep him away after he died.  The diver who found him said he looked like he just went to sleep.  Tom had no family back home, just one sister who lives in Thailand.  The family on Coconut will try to reach her, and will probably sail his boat back to Raiatea, where it can be hauled out and maybe be put up for sale.  A very sad end to Bastille Day in Bora Bora.

We will try to have some pictures up in the media gallery in the next couple of days.  Take good care of yourselves, and we will do the same.  Jeanna

We lost our entire communications system on the boat - no e-mail, phone or weather.  It’s been mighty lonely out here, with no news from home.  I believe we are just about up and running again - thankfully!  Thanks to all of you who expressed concern over our silence.

After our friend Tom’s fatal diving accident, Bora Bora wasn’t much fun anymore.  We didn’t really feel like snorkeling or getting in the water at all.  We helped get Tom’s boat ready for a delivery crew to take it to New Zealand, and then we left as soon as we could.  We sailed to the very last island in the French Polynesia chain, a little place called Maupiti.  We saw the final award-giving of the Heiva Festival, with some good singing and dancing.  There was a Hobie Cat regatta going on while we were there - it was great to see all those colorful sails moving around the bay.  We were anxious to get to the Cook Islands, so we only stayed there for a couple of days.

Our 4-day sail to Suwarrow in the Northern Cooks was a very arduous trip.  The first night was everything I hate about night watches.  The seas were HUGE and unorganized, the wind was blowing 25-30 knots, there was no moon, and we were going dead down wind.  As Jim said, it was blacker than the inside of a cow.  Our wind speed/wind point had failed, so it was hard to keep the boat on a good course.  And, of course, I was seasick.  The next days were better, although the boat was lurching and rocking in the weird waves.  One day, we all had to write a haiku, and the next day we each had to present an invention, with a drawing and explanation of how it would work.  That helped the time pass quickly.

I was so glad to get to Suwarrow, which is a small, uninhabited atoll.  It is a nature reserve, and a caretaker lives on the island from April to October.  The caretakers, John and Veronica, have 4 boys under the age of 11.  They are a great family, and Molly and Jessie had fun romping among the coconut palms with other kids.  With the other cruisers who were anchored in the bay, there were 10 kids that had the run of the island.  They built a two-story palm hut, caught coconut crabs, and ate coconut pancakes.  Several nights, the 7 boats that were there got together for potlucks and music.  It was nice to get to know the caretaker and the other cruising families.  We had some nice hikes and found a couple of amazing snorkeling spots.  Jim speared a couple of small groupers, which were delicious.  There are a lot of black-tipped sharks in the atoll, and they seem to know the sound of a spear gun going off.  The minute Jim shot the gun, about 6 sharks came darting out of nowhere and started circling around him.  We cleaned the fish off the back of our boat, and there were sharks swimming frantically, eating the carcasses.

The crossing from Suwarrow to American Samoa was much nicer.  The wind continued to blow - up to 35 knots at times - but the seas were flat.  With a double-reefed main and our storm jib, we were still doing 10 knots.  It is an eerie feeling to be careening through the blackness going that fast.  You can’t see a thing, so you just hope and pray that there are no sleeping whales or derelict cargo containers floating in the water.  So far, so good!

Jim and I were in American Samoa twenty years ago, and it hasn’t changed a lot since then.  There is a lot of trash on land, and the water is very polluted.  There are two big tuna-packing plants here, and when the wind switches around, it is hard to breathe.  The smell is staggering.  The people, however, are friendly, helpful and speak English.  It is nice to be dealing in American currency again.  There is a huge Costco-like store here, where we will be able to re-provision.  There are some things we need to fix on the boat, and this is a good place to do it.

The buses here are entertaining.  They are funky, crickety things, but they are all painted with colorful logos and sayings, and inside they are decked out in leopard-skin fake fur, feather boas, and ceramic dogs with nodding heads.  Each bus has a very loud speaker system, and you are at the mercy of each driver who displays his taste in music at full blast, with the bass turned up all the way.  Most people here, men and women, wear skirts, so no one has pockets.  Since they always carry change for the bus ride, they store their quarters in their ears!  We thought they were just plugging their ears to drown out the music!

We got mail while we were here in Samoa.  It is so much fun to receive books and letters from friends.  We also got next year’s school curriculum - much to Molly and Jessie’s chagrin.  There are lots of new historical fiction books to read now, and some of the great literary classics.  What better way to while away a crossing than to read “Twenty-Thousand Leagues Under the Sea”, or “Great Expectations”?

In a few days, we will leave for Western Samoa, then Tonga, Fiji and New Zealand.  The time seems to be flying by, and I worry that we won’t get to see all the sights before hurricane season arrives in early November.  We’ll keep you posted! ~ Jeanna