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MERRY CHRISTMAS FROM CANKATA!

Leaving For Good

September 2005: We have left Canada for good. All our land-based possessions have been sold, we have cancelled our health care, cell phone, library card, subscriptions and memberships, and now we have very few links with the land of maple syrup, beaver-tails and Mounties.

We have been preparing for this moment for 8 years. We are more than ready. How long will we be sailing? – For as long as we are able. As long as our health, finances, and spirits hold up, and as long as CanKata remains safe and sound, we will not plan on returning.

Returning to CanKata

It will be good to see CanKata again. She has been waiting for us in Trinidad for six months – carefully tended to by Fanny and her crew. We are anxious to see how she weathered the summer, with its intense heat and humidity. Will she be moldy? Will there be pests aboard? Will the engines run smoothly after sitting idle for so long?

We’ll give her a thorough check and let you know how she’s doing.

CanKata Safe and Sound – late September 2005

We have checked her thoroughly and are pleased to announce that CanKata survived the six months “on the hard” like a trooper. However, we had made of list of items for repairs and had arranged for an agent to take care of them with the various trades, but only engine repairs were done (which is good – we would have been on the hard that much longer if the engines weren’t running). We were lucky and were able to get the bottom painted and some fibreglass repairs done right away, but things like stainless steel repairs, new trampolines, sail cover mending, and refrigeration repairs will get done over time. We’ll tell you about the water maker install a little later on.

Finding Room – late September

One huge challenge that we face on CanKata is finding room for everything. We had been disappointed to discover, when we left Canada, that we didn’t have enough room in our luggage for all the Canadian Tire blue shop towels that we had bought for the boat. Good thing – we don’t have room for the few that we brought anyway. Just yesterday I tried to reorganize all our first aid supplies, but ended up with less room. A spare bottle of rubbing alcohol has since been relocated to Darrel’s oil and lubricant locker, and I amalgamated 3 boxes of band-aids into one. I kept the bottle of Witch Hazel but am still baffled as to what use it will be (what that is?).

So, once again, we are giving things away. Our wok, some shoes, binders, a hair-trimming kit, and numerous margarine containers quickly disappeared from the marine laundry room after we put a “Free” sign on them. But we still have Darrel’s flannel robe. Yes, flannel robe. Three times it went into the free box, three times we retrieved it. Sometimes Darrel retrieves it, sometimes I retrieve it. Why we think we need to keep his flannel robe is certainly a puzzle. Is it the sentimental value? – are we worried about hypothermia? – will the evenings in the Mediterranean be cool? Who knows? But any visitors to CanKata who find that their luggage won’t fit their flannel pyjamas – don’t worry: we have a nice robe we can lend you.

Water, Water Everywhere – late September 2005

Our water maker is installed and operating. The install started smoothly. Then the electrician arrived. Darrel questioned the gauge of wire he was using. The electrician said not to worry.

When everything was finished and it was time to test the water maker, it wouldn’t work.

The electrician said maybe there was something wrong with the motor, or maybe our batteries were dying. Darrel pulled out Nigel Calder’s electrical manual and showed the electrician what gauge of wiring he should have used. “You can’t believe everything you read”, was the electrician’s response.

After two days of testing and fiddling, it was determined that a better gauge of wiring was required. We are now able to produce, in one hour, over 8 gallons of pure water from seawater. And we believe everything Nigel Calder has written.

Finding Alaté

On our trip last year from Canada to Annapolis, we went a large part of the way with Dale and Rita from Alaté. Rita and I cried when we said good-bye in Annapolis, and we have kept in touch through e-mail. On our first day in Trinidad, guess who came knocking on our door? It was so great to see Dale and Rita again. They are spending a number of months in Trinidad, waiting out the hurricane season like many other cruisers, anxious to head up into the Caribbean in late November. Unlike us, who are anchored out in a bay and relying on solar and wind energy, they are enjoying the comforts of a marina with electricity, a swimming pool, air conditioning, Saturday Mexican Train dominoes, and Internet access – a different kind of cruising life than what we have chosen.

While enjoying the comforts of Alaté the other day, we were given the opportunity to admire Rita’s homemade flags. For each country that Alaté has visited, Rita has sewn that country’s flag. (We cruisers fly these “courtesy” flags from our shrouds). She is quite the craftsman. Many of the flags have intricate detail, which Rita has hand-drawn with fabric paint. She has also sewn a number of sundresses from the beautiful yet affordable fabrics available in Trinidad. Then we got to admire all the beadwork she has been doing. Dale spent time with Darrel passing along mechanical, electrical and domino tips and printing us a bunch of Sudoku puzzles. We always leave the company of Dale and Rita richer in knowledge and in awe of their capabilities.

Early to bed, early to rise – October 2005

Darrel and I were always a little embarrassed about how early we went to bed when we were living in Canada. We buffered the embarrassment of being in bed before 10:00 by explaining that we were “up and at ’em” before 6:00 in the morning.

So now we are retired and living in the land of 12/12 – roughly 12 hours of daylight and 12 hours of dark, day in and day out. In fact, the bay we are anchored in has a high range of hills to the west, so the sun disappears shortly after 4:00 p.m.

On CanKata, we do our best to conserve electricity. When at anchor, our solar panel and wind generator provide us with a decent amount of energy, and our diesel engines also give our batteries a good charge, but our refrigeration is a heavy consumer. So when the sun goes down, so do we, so that we don’t have to burn valuable electricity lighting up the cabin. We first spend an hour or two on the bow of CanKata, enjoying the cool breeze after an invariably hot day. Then we tuck ourselves into our berth and switch on a small reading light and read away until some ungodly hour – like maybe 8:30 or so, and then it’s lights out.

Both of us are up at different times in the middle of the night to perform anchor check and maybe get in a bit more reading. If there is a rain shower, Darrel closes hatches and sets out the buckets to catch rainwater. I like to star gaze and spot satellites. We both are generally sound asleep when the sun rises, but drag ourselves out of bed to get a couple of hours work done before the heat gets unbearable (see “Managing the To Do List”).

We are amazed that we got by with so little sleep when living in Canada.

Footnote: Regarding “up and at ’em” … When our son, Dylan, was just a little fellow, I would wake him with a gentle shake and a whispered “up and at ’em”. One day, he asked me, “Mom, for girls would you say ‘up and Eve’?”

Managing the To Do List – October 2005

In CanKata’s Maintenance Log Book, there is quite an extensive To Do List. Our goal is to have everything completed before Christmas. But the days are very hot so we try to limit physical labour to early morning or shortly after sunset.

So yesterday, this is how I tackled the list. I noticed that one of the items is to polish the stainless steel. “What stainless steel needs polishing?” I asked Darrel. “All of it”, was his response. “And what would I polish it with? – Brasso?” “You can use boat polish”, he said.

Then I moved onto the next item – clean the trampolines. “Are we replacing the trampolines?” I asked. “Yes, someday”, Darrel answered. So I asked, “Do I need to clean the old ones if we are replacing them?” He replied, “Well, I guess that depends on when we are replacing them”.

I moved onto the next item – polish the windows. “I guess I can’t polish the windows while the solar screens are on”, I commented. We’ll probably leave them on until Christmas, at which time we’ll be further north and the sun won’t be as hot.

By this time, I have worked up a thirst and suggest to Darrel that we take a pause for refreshment, after which we agree that it is too hot to do any more work. Out comes the scrabble game and I make a mental note to review the To Do List after the sun drops.

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A Month of Thunder – October 16, 2005

We have now been in Trinidad a month. We had planned on being here for a shorter time frame, but we are having good luck with finding parts and tradesmen and thought we should take advantage of it. Our To Do List is gradually getting shorter, and in a few weeks we should be able to move on. Right now we are awaiting new trampolines and a couple more solar panels.

While we are waiting here, one particular treat we are enjoying is the thunder. Never in our lives have we heard so much. Our little bay doesn’t catch many storms, but the tropical “waves” like to pass us good and close, and they grumble fiercely as they head to other destinations. At night we see a lot of lightening. Darrel and I are both storm chasers at heart, so life couldn’t get much better for us. Mind you, if we didn’t have the hills in our bay to protect us, maybe we would look at the storms differently.

When it does rain, we catch all the water we can. We have five buckets that we place strategically under canopy drips. We use the water for cleaning the boat, doing laundry, and for the occasional bath (meaning we only bath occasionally).

We should tell you a bit about Trinidad. Its first settlers were the Arawak who were killed and eaten by the Caribs who were killed off by the Spanish who were beaten up by the French who were put in their place by the British. Trinidad and Tobago became independent from England in 1962 and became a republic in 1976. The population of 1.3 million is every colour in the book, from black to brown to white and everything else in-between. The people are beautiful, courteous and friendly. They are having a problem with the occasional kidnapping of East Indians, but have called in the FBI and Scotland Yard, so maybe that will stop. The Indians are targeted because they are a close-knit community and always pull together to find the ransom money.

Trinidad is much like Saskatchewan in that it doesn’t see the need for using Daylight Savings Time. Weather-wise, Trinidad is nothing like Saskatchewan.

We are spending our time anchored in a bay close to the community of Chaguaramas. It takes us about an hour on CanKata to get into town, but only 15 minutes by dinghy. The dinghy ride can be bumpy and wet. We go into town to use internet, get groceries, arrange for parts and labour, play dominoes with Rita and Dale of Alaté, or have pizza at Joe’s (ham and pineapple with extra cheese is our favourite). We might go in twice a week. The grocery store has just about everything we need – eggs, cheese, some meats, lemons, tomatoes, peppers, and hot chicken on Tuesdays. We can order the chickens through our VHF radio, which is very convenient.

I have started growing sprouts again and someday Darrel will fish. My sprouts only take 3 days and take very little water. They are a great addition to our salads, stir-fries and sandwiches. The fish catching might take a little longer. Locals tell us that the area has been over-fished. This is a familiar lament … which just goes to show that you can teach a man to fish but he still might go hungry.

P. Eng. – October 2005

It is with tremendous pride that we announce that our son, Dylan, has received official notification that he has met all the requirements and is now a Professional Engineer (Civil). Ever since he was a little tyke playing with Lego, he has been focussed and hardworking. Now he has a super job, an outstanding wife, two healthy children and, to boot, a P. Eng. behind his name. Congratulations, Dylan!

KISS – Keep it Simple, Sailor

Many years ago when I was a corporate trainer and teaching presentation skills to colleagues, I fell in love with the concept of “KISS” – keep it simple for success. While a useful concept for making presentations, it is even more valuable for live-aboard cruisers.

There are numerous reasons why we cruisers have to KISS, among them being: limitation of space, of electricity, of access to supplies and services, and, for many of us, of funds.

Darrel and I have found a number of ways to simplify our lives, (although we’ll never meet the standards of the pros, like Lynn and Larry Pardy), thus giving us more room for essentials, less draw on our energy supply, and less strain on our budget. Some tricks we have discovered ourselves, but most of the simplification ideas have come from fellow cruisers, who are indeed a clever lot. Here is a quick list of some of our favourite KISS practices:

Use the same towels over and over and over again. These are very cheap, thin towels that dry quickly and are easy to wash when they eventually do get washed.

Cook simple meals. Anything that takes longer than 20 minutes on the stove or in the oven doesn’t get onto the menu. Couscous salads are a favourite.

Make our own music, painful as that may sound.

Get up with the sun, go to bed with the sun.

Bathe and shampoo in the sea. If we dry off thoroughly right away, the salt doesn’t stay on our skin. Our hair seems to love the salt water.

Catch rainwater. Some things on the boat don’t like salt water (e.g. anything that corrodes).

Learn how to fix things – Darrel started on this principle when he was six.

Wear very few clothes to cut down on laundry. We wear the same thing over and over again until we get company or have to go into town.

We have made simplification one of our passions, and are constantly on the lookout for even more ways to take our lives down to the basics. We look forward to meeting cruisers who have more hints, and to hearing from you if you have any tips yourself!

The CBC on SSB

While we were on land earlier this year, I made an effort to check out CBC’s website to see what short-wave frequencies they operated on. During the first leg of our trip, I had no success in finding them on our single-side-band radio (SSB). Now I have a comprehensive list of all the programs that are aired on which frequency at which time UTC. The reception is great, and while we don’t listen too often (energy conservation), it’s great to get periodic news updates. But today I got the juiciest Canadian news from Trinidad radio. A Canadian diplomat with a forgetful name has embarrassed Canada by making inappropriate comments about the crime situation in Trinidad, whose officials have responded by saying Butt Out. They are asking for a retraction and apology. Oh Canada.

Chacachacare – Halloween

One of the Trinidad islands we have anchored at is Chacachacare. Until about 35 years ago, this island was a leper colony. It was abandoned when a cure for leprosy was found, and now nature is about half way to reclaiming the buildings. When we arrived at the island, we were the only boat in the anchorage. We were a bit spooked, (it was Halloween, after all), because a few years ago there was a pirate attack on the other side of the island, so for the first time in Trinidad we locked all our hatches and slept with our handheld VHF radio. The next day was a public holiday and the locals were out in full force, so we relaxed considerably. We have had to return to the main island to get our watermaker repaired (already! – not a good sign) and to get new batteries, but we plan on returning to the beautiful Chacachacare to do some snorkelling, at long last.

Darrel – Retired and Awarded – November 2005

This is the month that Darrel retires! He has been on paid vacation, which continues until November 25. He is getting leaner, blonder and, with his long hair, looks more like an unemployed hippy than a retired professional. But we have been recently reminded of his professionalism. He has received a special award from the Canadian Association of Home and Property Inspectors. We haven’t been able to download the e-mail attachments that were sent to us, but we do know it is the Michael Ludolph memorial award for persons outside the association who have had a positive influence on the industry. This was the first time it was presented, and it is a great honour for Darrel. He was instrumental in the progress the association has made towards a professional certification program for the inspectors, and new homeowners in Canada will benefit from Darrel’s work. Congratulations, Darrel!

Leaving Trinidad – November 16, 2005

This will be our last dispatch from Trinidad. We’ll soon be on our way to Grenada and up the chain of Caribbean islands (Guadeloupe for Christmas). We plan to leave in the wee hours of a moonlit night with our buddy boat, Cat Tales. New adventures are around the corner!

Safe and Sound in Grenada

Our sail from Trinidad to Grenada on the morning of November 17 was a little rough. Three boats (us, Cat Tales and Just ‘N Time) left Trinidad at 3:00 a.m. after carefully checking the weather information. Despite a good forecast, we hit a squall at about 8:30 a.m. We had taken our seasickness medication, so physically the ride wasn’t too bad, but all the captains got good and wet and tossed around as they quickly reduced sails before the worst of the storm hit. It lasted quite a while and our autopilot had decided it needed a rest, so we had to hand steer. We were exhausted by the time we got to Grenada at 5:00 p.m., but all three boats made it safe and sound with just some minor damage to various pieces of gear. Because of the time lost due to the storm, we changed our course and landed in Prickly Bay rather than St. David’s Harbour. It has proven to be a great place to be – with a nice beach and lots of services available. And the water is turquoise rather than green – getting much prettier!

We were unable to hook up with the rebuild folks, which was very disappointing. However, it is wonderful to see that Grenada has recovered significantly from Hurricane Ivan. Many locals still need repairs to their homes, but material and skilled labour are apparently hard to get. We have taken tours around the island, and have seen very little evidence of what Ivan did. The trees are all thriving again, businesses are open and operating, power lines are all up, the roads are in pretty good shape, and most homes are habitable. There are a few trashed boats around, but we see these all the time in the Caribbean – good reminders of how careful we must be during hurricane season. The resilience of this lovely island has certainly impressed us.

Check Out Cat Tales

Our boating buddies on Cat Tales have been sharing some great adventures with us, and they have a web log that they update regularly. If you want to read more stories about what CanKata has been up to, you can find them at personal.nbnet.nb.ca/corbetl – which is Cat Tales’ web site that has a link to their blog. We haven’t read any of it yet, but we know that Dawn and Laurie are great writers so it should be worth a look.

The Queen’s Crown

When we had returned to Canada last March, I was astounded to see that the effigy on the new coins was crownless. It was great to see that the Queen is aging gracefully, but she didn’t look very royal. I figured that if anything should have been eliminated from the coins, it was her head, not her crown. Curious, I called the Mint to see why the Queen lost her crown, and was assured that there was no political motivation. The effigy that the focus group selected simply didn’t have a crown. Some Canadian artist from B.C. couldn’t manage the detail, perhaps.

So I was intrigued to see that the coins in Grenada have the exact same effigy – but WITH a crown. I remain very curious.

An interesting fact for anyone who is interested in history or politics: Britain abstained from the 1983 vote by the United Nations Security Council to declare the U.S. invasion of Grenada a "flagrant violation of international law". (The vote passed 11-1). When we talked to the locals about the invasion, we couldn’t really tell if the U.S. were viewed as heroes or villains. Regarding the Queen, they have about the same attitude as the average Canadian, and none of them care two hoots about the crown on her head.

Running away to sea

We were on a long bus ride in Grenada, and one of the locals a few seats ahead of us wanted to tell us his life story. He has been around the world, spreading the Baha’i faith. He told us that when he was 15, he ran away to sea. I told him that we have a lot in common, for when I was 50, I ran away to sea. He simply laughed, like he didn’t believe me, and continued with his fascinating stories, which are too long for this update.

Subway – by Darrel

This is the first time that I have entered an item onto our web site, but I feel that it is story worth sharing. I knew that Loretta would not volunteer to mention this in her regular update since she is the victim of the story. I should mention that, by telling this story, there is a very good chance that it will soon backfire and that you will be reading similar stories about me. Thus far Loretta has been very kind to me.

When we were checking into Customs and Immigration in Grenada, Loretta and Dawn from Cat Tales were having a chat with another cruiser who was also checking in. I was nearby, within listening distance, filling in the eight different – but very similar – custom and immigration forms. The other cruiser had been to Grenada many times so Loretta was taking the opportunity to get a lowdown on the island and find out where the closest grocery store and bank were located. The cruiser was giving her directions so I tried to have one ear on the conversation and the other ear to hold up my reading glasses. The directions were something like this:

You dinghy over to de Big Fish and then walk up the hill, turn right and hop on a dollar bus (which is actually a two “Eastern Caribbean” dollar bus) heading towards St. George’s. Shortly after you go past a Subway that is on your right hand side you will see the shopping center on your left. Before the cruiser could continue on with the directions to the bank Loretta questioned with much excitement, “You mean to tell me that there is a subway on Grenada?” The cruiser replied with much less excitement that yes there is and then continued to go on with the directions. Now it was quite apparent to everyone nearby, other than Loretta, that she didn’t hear the upper case “S” on Subway but everyone was too polite to make fun of Loretta’s misunderstanding – I would have seized the moment but it happened just as I was being called in by the Customs Officer to go through and verbalize all the information that I had already entered on the eight forms. Loretta was still quite surprised and excited that Grenada had a subway and started to make another statement in this regards which is when Dawn stepped into the conversation to save Loretta from further embarrassment by offering the sacrificial question to the other cruiser, “Excuse me but when you said there would be a Subway on the right before the shopping center, did you mean the Subway that you eat at, or, the subway that you drive through?” Once clarified, everyone, especially Loretta, had a good laugh.

Now to end this story, and to save a rebuttal from Loretta, we did happen to find a tunnel in St. George’s that Loretta tries to convince everyone who knows or hears of this misunderstanding that it is a subway and not a tunnel.

Save the goat – November 30/05

It was just over a year ago that Darrel and I were in Annapolis, standing with a crowd of exuberant navy college students, chanting “Fear the goat, fear the goat!” Our involvement was accidental, but fun nonetheless. The goat is the navy’s mascot, and the students were getting ready to beat the army in a crucial football game, and we happened to be in the vicinity of the rally at the time.

Just over a year later, Darrel finds himself on the island Carriacou with the crowd (Loretta and fellow cruiser, Dawn Corbett) chanting “Save the goat, save the goat!” This was no football game.

To explain: The crew of Cat Tales and CanKata were hiking in Carriacou, enjoying the exotic sites and sounds of this beautiful Caribbean island, when the unpleasant cry of a baby goat hit our ears. It was obviously a baby goat in trouble. We followed the sound and found the little bleater inside the deep drainage ditch at the side of the mountain road. He was running up and down, trying to find the exit, with no luck. Momma goat was tied up a number of yards away, and was calling to him frantically. Darrel jumped into the ditch to see if he could lift the little fellow out, but couldn’t get close. Laurie Corbett then jumped in so that they could corner him. As they drew closer together, the little goat’s adrenaline kicked into gear and he leaped right out of the ditch and headed for momma. One saved goat.

Just a half mile down the road, we found another goat that needed saving. Billy goat had stuck his head through a square of wire fence, and when he tried to pull back through, his horns wouldn’t cooperate. Darrel and Laurie had to work with a very uncooperative Billy, but finally set him free. Second saved goat.

That evening we had lamb chops for supper. Not the same animal, but close enough to make us wonder if we were really saviours after all.

Eric’s Weather – December 7, 2005

Some mornings, especially when we are preparing to make a passage, we get up early to listen to the weather on our SSB radio. At 0630, a gentleman named Eric provides all the information we need to help us decide whether to leave or stay.

After today’s forecast, we have decided to stay in Admiralty Bay in Bequia (in the Grenadines, between Trinidad and Martinique) for a little longer. In Eric’s words, it is “rock and roll city out there”. “Tenacious” hurricane Epsilon is proving to be a capable wind maker, and we are experiencing strong gusts and frequent squalls. We are fortunate that the anchorage here has good holding, and we are protected from swells. Cat Tales and Alaté are anchored on either side of us, so we don’t have far to go for entertainment.

It looks as though Epsilon should die out soon. We should be on the move again in 2 or 3 days. In the meantime, “boat boys” pop by to sell us bread, lobster, ice, and anything else under the sun (or clouds) that we might need. This weather delay is not a hardship. Darrel even found time to change the oil in both engines.

Dry Season – December 10, 2005

Still in Bequia, we are still listening attentively to Eric’s weather in the early morning. Yesterday’s great news was that “hurricane season is over”! Today he announced, “The dry season is making a serious attempt to start”. The latter is a mixed blessing. While we love the clear, sunny weather, we use collected rainwater for laundry, boat cleaning and bathing. We will now have to rely more on what we make with our water maker. But the winds are fresh and the sun is bright, so we are generating lots of wind and solar energy. If energy is scarce, I can always quit doing laundry and cleaning the boat … not a hardship.

On the other hand, the weather forecast is not always absolutely accurate, and I’m sure we’ll still see some rain. (Update December 11: it rained all through the night!)

On the other hand, the weather forecast can be very accurate. Eric told his listeners that the seas will remain “lumpy and bumpy” offshore, and sure enough, our sail from Bequia to St. Lucia (a nine-hour sail) was just that. We arrived safe and sound, though, and even managed the trip without seasickness medication and mostly without the engines running. Great sailing!

Fishing is good – December 11, 2005

We have been having some great luck with fishing these days. We have the freezer running, thanks to the power from the wind and sun, and in it we have eight meals worth of freshly caught Dorado and Barracuda, both of which are very tasty. We have been practicing with our spears, but we haven’t yet attempted to spear any fish. Everything has been caught while we’ve been trolling. We haven’t found conch yet (very over-fished) but we’re still on the lookout.

Soufriere, St. Lucia

“You shouldn’t anchor in Soufriere,” some fellow cruisers warned us. They went on to tell us how they had been boarded by a local in the middle of the night, and had to yell and scream at him to get him off the boat. And then they told us about the aggressive “boat boys” who hounded them. We had anchored in Soufriere last year without incident, so decided to take the gamble, because it is a beautiful spot and works out well on the itinerary – just the right distance from Bequia for a day’s sail.

When we arrived in Soufriere on December 11, we were greeted by boat boys who set us up on a mooring ball for a fee of $10 EC. (2 Eastern Caribbean dollars = 1 Canadian dollar). They are sitting in their boat at the mooring ball waiting to take your line, so you really have no choice but to use their assistance. Then the officials came and charged us $40 EC for using the mooring ball. Then Darrel had to dinghy into town to check in at Customs and Immigration and pay $30 EC, which is actually quite reasonable. When he arrived at the dinghy dock, however, a local suggested that Darrel pay him $10 EC to guard the dinghy. We don’t normally need a dinghy guard. “Why would I need you to guard my dinghy?” asked Darrel. “So nobody will go on it … not even me”, was the response. So Darrel handed him the $10 EC. When you think about it, our rubber boats are pretty vulnerable when left unattended.

But that wasn’t enough. Then our “guard” wanted to sell Darrel some carved calabash, and then he had a young friend who needed a coke. Darrel said no to these requests, checked in at Customs and Immigration, and then returned to CanKata on our dinghy, which indeed had been left untouched.

Back at Cankata, which was the only boat in the anchorage at the time, we were hounded by boat vendors, but they were all polite and friendly. None of them had the avocados that I was looking for, but one went to the trouble of getting some the next day and delivering them for a reasonable price. HUGE avocados with HUGE pits – but tender and tasty.

Then we were alarmed to see that a local was on shore and starting to swim for our boat. It is not a friendly shore – huge cliffs and lots of rugged coral – so it was quite an undertaking for him. It turns out that it was our dinghy guard still trying to sell Darrel his wares. I gave him the traffic cop “stop” signal and said, “No thanks – we don’t want anything”, but he wasn’t listening to me. I put up both hands into the stop sign and said much more firmly, “NO! Please don’t come to our boat”. Prudent cruisers never let uninvited guests aboard. It’s a firm rule. But he wasn’t going to listen to me. Darrel then came out with the best weapon for situations like this, our camera, and said, “If you don’t go away, I’ll take your picture and give it to the authorities”. “No problem, man”, said our guard as he swam back to shore. “I’ll see you tomorrow at the dinghy dock”.

We didn’t go into town the next day and we didn’t see him again. Our sleep was a little restless that night because we hadn’t hired anyone to guard CanKata. As usual, we had all our hatches locked but took a few extra precautions and slept with our VHF radio, foghorn and machete.

So, as we reflect, we still think Soufriere is a beautiful spot, and it works well on the itinerary, but we’ll probably say to our fellow cruisers, “You shouldn’t anchor in Soufriere”.

Christmas

Is it really that time of year already? We have company coming, which we are prepared for, but other than that, we haven’t done anything to get ready for the season. But we will have our family and friends in our thoughts at this special time of year, and hope you all have a wonderful holiday. Merry Christmas!

Baguette Holder

We were talking to another cruising couple that owns a French catamaran. They mentioned that, unlike many other French catamarans, theirs does not have a built-in baguette holder. We chuckled at the thought of having such a contraption built into your boat, when Darrel slapped his knee and said, “So that’s what that doodad is in our galley!” “Oh my goodness”, I agreed, “That’s exactly what it is”.

We have always wondered what the long, slender wooden holder was meant for. In fact, we have two, plus a larger holder in the centre. None of our cruising pals have anything like it in their boats. We’ve used them for a number of long, slender things – skewers, rolls of tin foil, wooden spoons, always knowing that there was a better use intended.

A baguette holder. It makes so much sense. You can’t walk on the beach of any of the French islands without seeing at least a couple of baguettes sticking out of each person’s backpack. We have grown quite fond of them ourselves, and our baguettes usually have a couple of bites taken out of them before they get onto the boat. And now they have their own little storage place. Ça marche bien – it works great.

Toasting the gods – December 2005

Darrel and I were having a dry spell in the fishing department. One evening, at the bow of the boat, while enjoying another spectacular Caribbean sunset, we pondered the problem.

“Maybe we need to toast the fishing god,” one of us remarked. The other agreed, and we heaped all sorts of praise on our fishing god, and begged him for better luck. What little we know about gods, we understand that they like getting praised. We used our best bottle of “Vin de Table” ($2.74 Euro; one Euro = $1.40 Canadian) and toasted the whole bottle to him.

We are not superstitious or religious, but the next morning we did catch the biggest Dorado we have ever caught (good for 7 meals). Not only that, but I saw a whale. Darrel sees them from time to time, but I always miss them. This was my day to see the spectacular sight of one of them surfacing close to CanKata to catch a breath of air. It was awesome. And the Dorado was a pretty tasty supper. We must have pleased the fishing god.

What we overlooked, however, was a toast to the god of wind. Our sail from Dominica to Les Saintes was peppered with squalls. The winds were at their worst when Darrel was cleaning the freshly caught fish. So that night, we gave thanks to the fish god and also had a little chat with the wind god. Again, plenty of praise was in order because we have been getting from point A to B in pretty good time. But we have been getting a little bumped around and bruised during passages, so thought maybe some calmer winds were in order. We used Kahlua to pay our respects to the wind god.

The next day, the winds were superb! But I guess the god of rain’s nose was out of joint, because the heavens poured on us like they never have before. We had to turn on the radar to make sure we didn’t run into anything (land, a freighter, stuff like that).

That evening we made a tough decision. The situation was starting to remind us of the blessed boat boys – once you do business with one of them, then they all start hounding you with their wares. So we quit cold turkey – no more praising or begging or toasting the gods. We’ll rely on Mother Nature to do what she thinks is best and go with the flow.

Natalie

We met Natalie at the marina dinghy dock in Guadeloupe, which is a French island where very few people speak English. Most of the population speaks Creole (a combination of African and European languages); Natalie spoke French. With our limited French, Darrel and I have been getting along quite nicely in the French islands. Guadeloupe has been a little trickier because very few people speak English, which is not the case in most the other French islands.

So Natalie asked us a question in French. I thought she asked us if it was possible to get from the marina dinghy dock to the anchorage at Îlet à Cochons. I knew the answer because CanKata was anchored at that Îlet and we had just come from there in our dinghy. So when she asked, “C’est possible?” I answered, “Oui, c’est possible”. At that point, she jumped into our dinghy. It turns out that she was asking for a ride from the marina to her boat Cappuccino, which was also anchored at Îlet à Cochons.

We weren’t heading back to our boat, but, what the heck, we took her anyway. We now have new friends on Cappuccino and I am a little more cautious with my French.

Cool, clear water – January 2006 (Happy New Year!)

Last year, Darrel and I were in St-Martin and met a cruiser who had just sailed up from Trinidad. He commented on how much time Darrel and I spent in the water, considering how cold it was.

Cold? We had just come down from Canada where there was ice forming on the Big Rideau. If anything, we found the water a little warmish and not quite as refreshing as a mid-summer dip up north. But he explained that he had become accustomed to the warm waters closer to the equator, and just couldn’t bring himself to dip in the cool waters at the 18^th parallel.

So Darrel and I are now, a year later, a long way from Trinidad and back in the cooler climes of St‑Martin. And yes, we are finding the water a little cool.

It’s amusing to see how your perspective of things can change. While listening to the maritime weather the other day, we heard that the morning temperature in St. Kitts was only twenty-two degrees. “Twenty-two degrees”, exclaimed Darrel. “Brrrr”.

Winter in Canada seems so long ago, so far away.

Note to my brother Frank: Right now I can hear you singing “Cool Clear Water” clear as a bell.

Firsts (up to January 2006)

Here are some things we did for the first time since cruising:

Cooked a turkey on CanKata (small, delicious!)

Loretta ate fish eyes (small, delicious! – had to spit out the hard centre)

Entertained company aboard for a full week

Ate sugar cane – juicier than we expected

Picked our own coconuts, drank the milk, ate the meat

Cracked open and grated our own nutmeg

Caribbean Blizzard

January 22, 2006: We are having a blizzard in St-Martin today. There is no snow, and the temperature is 27 degrees Celsius, but the wind is very much like those howling winds you get on the Canadian prairies in mid-January. The wind has been blowing strong for weeks now, and it hampers our sailing plans and makes our dinghy rides to shore somewhat wet and bumpy. But today is worse than ever. Our recent visitors left yesterday, and we are glad they didn’t have to experience this. Jenny (our noisy wind generator who got on our visitors’ nerves in moderate winds) is doing a fine job of keeping other boats from anchoring too near us – she is screaming like a banshee in heat.

But there aren’t too many boats out anyway – they are probably all in the lagoon where there is some protection from the relentless gusts. We have chosen to stay away from the lagoon because we like to swim and breathe the fresh ocean air. We can do both where we are presently anchored – Grande Case Bay – but we have to hold onto our hats! Sometimes the gusts are so strong that they blow water through the bay, just like wildly drifting snow across a flat prairie. Our hatches remain closed because every tenth gust or so brings a rainsquall with it. At least CanKata has been cleaned of any salt she may have accumulated.

We turned on our instrumentation to measure the wind speeds, and the gusts often hit 30 knots. Sometimes the calm between the gusts last long enough to make us think that maybe the blizzard has ended, but then along comes another one, driving rain with it and causing CanKata to yank hard on the anchor, which is thankfully holding very well. Jenny screams.

But I am in a sundress and Darrel in his sarong. The water is warm. We’re just getting ready to have a cool rum punch. We can handle these Caribbean blizzards, no problem.

May You Never Have Sand in Your Mud

When our recent visitors, Dave and Jan from Alberta, left CanKata to catch their flight, they yelled back to us, “May you never have sand in your mud!” The previous night, when we were having our farewell drinks, that was how we toasted each other. That phrase will probably become CanKata’s signature toast.

It started in Tintamarre. We had taken our visitors ashore for some beachcombing and exploring, and decided to check out the state of the mud baths. It had just rained, and to our delight the mud holes had a top layer of soft, creamy mud that was the best we have ever seen. Dave, Jan and I smoothed it all over us, being careful not to dig too deep because then we would hit sand. Darrel didn’t catch on right away and had a much rougher mud bath than the three of us. We were soothed; Darrel was sanded. He did my back for me, and I got a feel of what his bath was like -- ouch!

So that evening, during happy hour, it only seemed natural for Jan to toast us with “May you never have sand in your mud.” At that, Darrel finished his drink with one gulp.

Booty

Our friends on Cat Tales once told us something that we have never forgotten: “There is more than seashells on the beach”. Since learning that, we have kept a keen lookout for other treasures that the wind and sea have left on the shore, and have collected items like a US $100 bill, a Trinidad $100 bill, goggle cleaner, ice cubes (!), a cockpit cushion, and snorkels.

Our best day was last Tuesday, January 24, the day my little brother Mike turned 51. We were walking the beach of Grande Case, St-Martin after a good blow (a trick learned from Cat Tales). We found a 6’ square piece of pacific blue canvas – matches our boat and will come in handy for something or other – and a 20” 14K man’s heavy gold chain made in Italy (we needed our magnifying glass to determine the last few pieces of information). We also found a US dime and a cute little earring, so it was quite a profitable beach comb.

For you landlubbers, I’d like to pass on this piece of advice from a former colleague in Ottawa: In the spring, always walk with your head down. She claims to have found hundreds of dollars under the freshly melted snow. Good hunting!

February – June 2006:

Cats and Monohulls

We were listening to the “security net” the other morning (a daily chat on the SSB radio that keeps cruisers informed of safety and security issues), when Darrel commented that all the catamaran names mentioned had the word “cat” in them. CanKata and Cat Tales fall right in there. Then we heard about a 39-foot Beneteau with the name Cat Paws. Darrel said, “That isn’t right … it’s a monohull … its name should be Monopaws!”

I’m sure Cat Paws would not agree.

The Raft

When Darrel and I were working in Ottawa, one of our favourite meeting places was the Research Lunch Table where we worked. It was just one-half hour, five days a week, but the most memorable times with gentle and funny people who had so much to share – stories, advice, news, opinions, bad jokes, worries, family photos, the requisite walk around the grounds, and, sometimes, french fries. Lunchtime was a bright spot in the workday thanks to those we broke bread with.

It’s important to have a favourite meeting place, even if it is a place where everyone doesn’t know your name. We have a place like that in St-Martin. We have The Raft.

The raft is close to where we anchor in Orient Bay. It is the halfway point between the beach and us, and is a sunning place for some of the beachgoers, at least those who are competent swimmers. When we swim to the raft, we chat with the sunbathers from the beach. We volley around bits of conversation until we find something in common to get our teeth into. Usually everyone knows “someone from Canada”, but is smart enough not to ask if we know that someone (but we do ask for names, just in case). Sometimes, we really hit it off with the raft people, and invite them aboard CanKata. Now, CanKata is not the newest or prettiest or biggest boat in the anchorage, but she is the only one that the raft person has been invited to, so, for them, it is a treat.

We keep a guest log and ask our visitors to write a little something. Most of the raft people are on a short vacation, so we mostly see them only once or twice, but they are easy to remember when we read their special notes in our log. Some of them are (like we were) frequent visitors to St-Martin. So when they leave, we say, “Next time you’re here, look for us”. And if they find us, maybe they will remember our name.

Cap Overboard

Before you become alarmed, let me assure you that this is not a story about the Captain falling overboard. This is literally about a cap overboard – a ball cap, that is.

Anyone who has been on a boat wearing a ball cap on a windy day knows what I am talking about. For those of you who are unfamiliar with the “cap overboard” routine, let me describe to you the scene we saw yesterday:

A pleasure craft enters the bay that we are anchored in. The captain is leisurely scouting out the area, looking for a good place to “drop the hook”. A gust hits the bay, and all of a sudden the boat starts to quickly circle around. The crew are scrambling on deck. Someone grabs the boat hook and extends it to its full length. After the boat has circled a couple of times, the man with the hook leans way over the side and hooks onto something floating in the water. The hook is raised and, there it is, the ball cap! Everyone cheers.

When we were boating with our friends Dawn and Laurie of Cat Tales, they would often come ashore with us in our dinghy. I was the only one of our foursome who didn’t wear a ball cap. As the designated dinghy driver, I was often called upon to perform the “cap overboard” routine. The dinghy is close to the water, so no hook is required, but the retriever (usually the person who lost the cap) has to lean right over. I have often been tempted to give them a little nudge so that we could actually practice the “man overboard” routine, which is much more fun and practical in my view.

On CanKata, we have been lucky to date and have not had to put our “man overboard” routine to actual use. And so far we haven’t lost a cap. Darrel has given it his best effort, but somehow his cap manages to cling to something on the boat – a fishing rod, a winch, a boat hook - because it must know that the CanKata crew isn’t likely to change course for a sweaty, faded, CHBA ball cap. Who knows what CHBA stands for anyway? In the meantime, we have a couple of spiffy new ball caps waiting in the wings.

So if you are cruising with friends and want to test their “man overboard” routine, wear a ball cap … but not your favourite one, just in case.

Night Delight

February 16, 2006

I could hardly believe my eyes. I blinked a couple of times, and it was still there. I turned and looked at my three companions, who were also blinking with their mouths agape. “Do you see what I see?” I asked, sounding like a wise man from a Christmas carol. Susan whispered yes, Keith said wow, and Darrel simply nodded his head. It was a moon bow.

We were on the back deck of the elegant yacht “Roamer”, drinking some fine red wine and laughing at the fact that Keith lost his cap overboard on the exact same day that I wrote a story about that particular routine. The sun had set and the waning moon, three days past being full, was bright on the east horizon. We were facing west, and there it appeared before us – a monochrome grey rainbow arching in the dark sky - nothing like the brilliant ROY G BIV daytime rainbows but still breathtakingly beautiful in its uniqueness. Darrel felt prompted to ponder aloud, “Do you think there is a pot of silver at the end of that moon bow?”

It didn’t last long. We all continued to gaze at the empty darkness, wondering aloud if this was a common phenomenon. None of us had seen a moon bow before. It took several moments before we returned to the conversation we had been having.

Darrel and I both love night passages. It is a magical time to be at the helm. Now, besides meteorites, fish pots, weather buoys, freighters, whales, and phosphorescence, we have one more thing to keep an eye out for – a moon bow. We hope you get to see one, too.

Awaiting Dylan and Laura

February 28, 2006

Here we are, at the last day of February already. We still can’t get used to the fact that it is winter, and now spring is already just around the corner.

We have had a wonderful winter. And it has been great to hear that Canada has been experiencing a mild winter. Although it means that our family, friends and colleagues are less likely to want to come and visit us, we are happy that they didn’t freeze their toes off this year.

We still have had many visitors, and the great times that we have had with them will be fresh in our memories for a long time. And we have more visitors to come! Don and Sharon will be with us in a few days, Carol and Al will be popping in soon, and then we are having extra-special visitors coming: our son Dylan and his wife, Laura, arrive March 13. This will be the highlight of the season for us. We have some great adventures living on CanKata, and being able to share them with Dylan and Laura will be a special treat. We look forward (a long way forward) to the day when our grandchildren, Tehja and Taylor, will be able to join us. Can there be a sweeter dream: showing your grandchildren all the wonderful secrets of the beautiful Caribbean?

End of Visiting Season – March 20, 2006

It is spring tomorrow. Winter is over, and so is our visiting season. We have such great memories of the fun and adventures we had with our guests, and thought we’d share some highlights:

First turkey dinner on CanKata with Larry and Sue on Christmas Day

Best mud bath with Jan and Dave on Tintamarre – “May You Never Have Sand in Your Mud”

Largest crowd ever sailing on CanKata - André, Jean, Janet, Gary, Lynn, Bruce, Anna, Ed, Karen

Dancing and shadow making on CanKata’s bow with Sue Ann, Ken, Donald and Kathy

Burying each other in the sand with Dani and Kenny

Teaching Charlie and Sue’s twin boys (Ryan and Ian) how to dive for conch

Doing head stands on the beach with Sharon while Darrel and Don cheered us on

Showing Carol and Al how to play Mexican Train dominoes (after a great snorkel)

Pyjama party with Cat Tales – “The hell here never ends!”

Spending a glorious week with our son and daughter-in-law, Dylan and Laura - Y

If this is what sailing is all about, we certainly made the right career choice.

Where’s the Moon?

By Darrel

One day as we were heading in our dinghy through the lagoon we noticed a Canadian boat that appeared to be in distress just off to the side of the buoyed channel. We turned around and went over and asked them if they needed assistance. They told us they were aground and were trying desperately to free themselves. We offered to pull them with the dinghy but they informed us that a bigger boat had just tried this without success. They did not know the state of the tide, i.e. ebbing or flowing, so they asked us if we knew. Immediately Loretta started scanning the heavens above which, were partially covered with popcorn clouds, and began babbling about where the moon was, what time did it rise, is it presently east or west of us, and what time is it now. The lady of the grounded boat was already quite anxious and she just looked at Loretta as though Loretta must be a bit psychotic and was being affected by the moon, hence “lunie”. The lady completely ignored us after this episode and went back and gunned the motor. I am not sure if she was trying to free the boat or just get away from Loretta. At this point we wished them best of luck and continued on through the lagoon. On our way back to CanKata we saw a large workboat so we pointed them towards the boat in distress.

Now let me explain to you that Loretta was far from crazy and her searching and babbling did make a lot of sense provided you were aware of the relationship between the orientation of the moon and the rising and falling tide. Water generally tries to run toward the moon. The tide starts rising soon after moonrise and continues until approximately an hour after it reaches its zenith (highest point above you), and then starts falling until moonset. After moonset the tide begins to rise again until shortly after its nadir (opposite of zenith) at which point it starts falling until moonrise. So in short, Loretta is not lunie, although she does get somewhat wild during a full moon.

The Coast of Tintamarre

Tintamarre has always been one of our favourite little islands. It has a beautiful beach, luxurious sand, great mud, pretty shells, and is fairly remote by the end of the day. It is a very peaceful overnight anchorage. We’ve always considered Tintamarre small, but, until recently, never attempted to walk completely around it.

We undertook that activity, wisely or not, while Dylan and Laura (our son and his wife) were visiting us. Our boating buddies from Cat Tales, Dawn and Laurie, also joined us. If we would have thought of taking water bottles, better shoes, protective leg wear, a map and maybe a few beers, we would probably remember it as “a good idea”. But we were a little unprepared for the challenges that the north coast of Tintamarre had to offer.

Nevertheless, it was well worth all the trouble. If we ignore the heat stroke, sunburns, blisters and the nettle scratches all over our legs, we could even say the hike was fantastic! And even when someone asked, “Does this remind you of the movie Blair Witch Project?” – we all managed a weak laugh. We were such good sports, following Laurie through the briar and bramble and bushes where even the rabbits wouldn’t go. Actually, we didn’t see any rabbits but found a few white skulls from what could have been goats, but we couldn’t be sure.

And we found the rugged, breath-taking beauty of Tintamarre’s north shore. Words can’t do justice to the cliffs, caves, rocks, surf, and million shades of blue and green ocean water. We snapped dozens of photos, but, like words, they can’t fully capture the magnificence of the view. We have seen nothing else like it. If you took both the south and north shores of Prince Edward Island, mixed in a little of Peggy’s Cove, a dash of the badlands and a sprinkling of the Rocky Mountains, you might come close. It was exhilarating and even a little frightening to stand on the cliffs and watch the crashing surf below. It was hard to leave, but eventually thirst and heat drove us back to CanKata.

We highly recommend the hike to anyone who is fortunate enough to land on the south shore of Tintamarre. But be a good boy scout and be prepared – don’t forget a couple of beer.

Dinghy Stress

Cruisers have a very special relationship with their dinghies. They are our “tender” and are how we get to shore and back, along with our passengers and stores. They are like a car, but provide an even more critical service. Landlubbers have options: taxi, bus, walking, biking, etc. Cruisers usually have no other option.

Cruisers often nickname their dinghies. Ours is CanKitty and she has earned a position of honour on the home page of our web site. Her favourite song is “Love Me Tender” and her least favourite is “My Dingaling”. She doesn’t like to be played with; she takes her job very seriously. Many cruisers call their tenders “dinks”, but CanKitty is a girl tender so the name just hasn’t stuck. But I have to admit it is soft in the morning and likes to be blown.

The act of dinghying (even though it is not a recognized word by my spell checker) causes a lot of stress for cruisers. Dinghy theft is common in the Caribbean. Our tenders have to be locked to the dinghy dock, and the motor has to be locked to the dinghy, and the gas tank has to be locked to the motor, and nothing else of value can be left unattended. Locks can be picked and chains can be sawed, so it is always stressful to leave the dinghy at the dock. Cruisers breathe a sigh of relief when they return to the dock and find the dinghy safe and sound.

Dinghies, if they haven’t been hoisted up the davits, should be locked to their mother ships to prevent theft. Rumour has it that a crewmember on CanKata can count her lucky starts that thieves are a rarity at Prickly Pear, BVIs. (She locked CanKitty, but not to anything).

At some islands, the local children like to play at the dinghy docks and on the dinghies. You might be fortunate enough to find someone who will charge you $5 to make sure no one plays on yours. Or you might be unfortunate enough to return to your dinghy and find it full of water, a little scratched up and with a few safety items missing. This doesn’t happen in St-Martin, which is part if that island’s appeal.

Sometimes cruisers have to anchor their dinghies, and this activity involves the careful tying of knots. Did you know “bitter end” is a nautical term? If you haven’t tied your anchor properly at the bitter end, be prepared to go diving. We often anchor CanKitty when we want to go to a beach that has a bit of surf and it is not safe to pull the dinghy ashore. We have discovered that the bowline knot (you know, at the bitter end) has to be tied exactly according to instructions. Rumour has it that a crewmember on CanKata can count his lucky stars that another beachgoer caught CanKitty before she drifted too far.

If the surf is calm and a cruiser is able to drag the dinghy ashore, it can be stressful if you aren’t certain of the state of the tide. Nothing spoils a productive beachcombing event like a dinghy that has been washed out to sea or washed up on a pile of rocks. Tip: Always know what the tide is doing (see “Where’s the Moon”).

Although not a common occurrence, sometimes the dinghy plug can fall out (or get pulled out by some mischief maker). This can be really stressful if you haven’t noticed the plug is missing and have been bailing the boat for 15 minutes or more. Tip: Always carry a spare dinghy plug.

An unfortunate characteristic of inflatable dinghies is that they can be punctured, which can cause considerable stress. Tip: Don’t install sharp solar panels just above the dinghy davits. If you do, make sure the solar panel is tightly secured. Rumour has it that CanKitty has two patches from injuries sustained on the very first leg of her trip south.

Visitors to CanKata will attest to the fact that it can be stressful getting in and out of the dinghy, whether from shore (right, Jan?), from water (right Sue Ann?), from the big boat (right Bruce?), or from the dock (right Karen?). To date, no one has fallen out of CanKitty but we’ll be sure to post the picture if and when that happens.

Regardless of all the stress involved, we just couldn’t do without our CanKitty. She is fast and stable, her motor is reliable, and her anchor (when tied) holds well. She has hauled water, diesel, groceries, sails, propane, beer, wine and visitors. She hugs tight to CanKata when we are underway. She gets us to customs and immigration on time and, on those few occasions we stay ashore a little too long, safely finds her way back home.

She definitely deserves her spot on our home page.

Good-bye Cat Tales

Since mid-October, we have spent a lot of time with Dawn and Laurie of Cat Tales. Many of our adventures are captured on their web site www.personal.nbnet.nb.ca/corbetl. Dawn has given us some super recipes and Laurie has passed on some great technical tips. We have spent many hours together playing dominoes, drinking ti punch, snorkelling, hiking, shopping, eating, bathing in mud, partying in Grande Case, beach combing . . . having a lot of fun!

Cat Tales are now on their way home. As we start to plot our course to head south for the summer, they are planning their route north. In July, we’ll be in Venezuela, while Cat Tales will be in New Brunswick, anchored in front of their lovely cottage.

We’ll miss Dawn and Laurie. A common sight in many Caribbean anchorages was our two little cats flying their Canadian flags, floating side by side; that’s a sight that won’t be seen for many years to come, if ever.

Farewell Cat Tales. We look forward to hearing of your safe arrival in New Brunswick. We hope your next two years of gainful employment are enjoyable, and that you have a pleasant sail back to the Caribbean. May our paths cross again in the not-too-distant future, and may you never have sand in your mud!

Did We Get Your E-Mail?

Once or twice a month, CanKata’s miscommunications officer tries to get to an Internet café to check out what e-mails have been received and to update CanKata’s website. All e-mails are responded to, even if it’s just a quick “Thanks!” to acknowledge a friendly greeting.

If you haven’t heard back from us between website updates (sometimes a month or longer), it could be that we didn’t get your message. If you are not on our “favourites” list, your message may have been automatically deleted after 5 days. Also, I get some junk mail that I quickly delete, so maybe I accidentally deleted your message. As a matter of fact, I lost the rights to our domain name CanKata.ca for a few days because the provider’s address is something like “auto_renew.com” and I thought it was for automobile insurance. Well, I was wrong and didn’t get the invoice until I finally caught on that it was a legitimate email, and have since renewed the domain name for nine years.

So don’t give up on us! Please send us another greeting with a meaningful subject line (not just “hello” or “have we got a deal for you” or “having trouble keeping it up?”). We love to hear from you.

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Pick up lines in St. Martin

Someone once asked us, “How do you go about meeting people?” The answer is really very simple … we get picked up. I think cruisers, like heavily made-up and scantily dressed women sitting alone at a bar, have a certain appeal to landlubbers. But we have something different to offer: a high-seas story to tell. And, perhaps, a visit aboard our boat.

Here are some pick up lines that have initiated conversation, then friendship:

Did you sail that boat all the way from Canada?

Are you the people from that Canadian boat out there?

Where is the other half of your boat? (We were in our dinghy).

Did you swim all the way into shore?

Is that your laundry hanging all over your boat?

Fellow cruisers pick us up by offering help or asking for help:

Do you want to know how to get to the customs office?

How do the anchors hold here?

Hey, want to come over for sundowners?

Could you tell me which way to Cuba? (No, no one has asked us that but we have been tempted to dinghy over to a mega yacht and ask that question. Or ask if they can spare any sugar.)

Are you anchored on top of my anchor? (This question doesn’t usually lead to lasting friendship).

Oh, am I anchored on top of your anchor? (Ditto).

Sometimes the pick up lines are from shoppers at the local marine store. Five times I have been mistaken for a sales clerk. One gentleman apologized by saying, “I’m sorry, I thought I saw you organizing the shelf”. I had to be honest. “Actually, I was organizing the shelf”. Darrel has since asked me to stop trying to tidy up all the marine stores in the Caribbean.

So, in summary, we are easy pickups. We love to meet new people, and therefore forgive even the corniest of pick up lines (e.g., “Boy, that’s some big boat you have”). We have used many of these lines ourselves, and have been doing some brainstorming for new ones. Just yesterday, Darrel tried this one out: “What’s a nice boat like yours doing in a bay like this?”

The brainstorming continues.

Shells for Tehja and Taylor

As we leave St-Martin, we have a jar full of shells for our grandchildren, Tehja and Taylor. They are neat little cockleshells, shaped like a small dunce cap with a small hole on top, and will make a perfect toy for when our little visitors come aboard. Someone had suggested making an abacus with the shells, and Darrel and I have since made two for the grandkids and have borrowed them for scorekeeping in dominoes. We’re certain that the grandkids will use their imaginations and think of all sorts of other ways to play or make crafts with the shells.

The most special thing about the shells is that they have been collected by dozens of people. Visitors to CanKata and fellow beachcombers, once told that we are collecting a certain kind of shell for Tehja and Taylor, make it their mission to add to the collection. We have over a hundred of them now.

So when we finally have our little darlings aboard, it will be fun to give them their shells and tell them the stories about all the wonderful people who took part in building their collection. Thank you to everyone who took part.

Dress Poker

Darrel and I both love to play poker, and have especially enjoyed learning the ins and outs and vocabulary of Texas Hold’em. Unfortunately, most cruisers we meet play dominoes, not poker. However, one particular cruiser did suggest that he would play strip poker. We all took a quick inventory of what we were wearing (e.g. simply a sarong) and decided no. Darrel then came up with the idea of “dress poker” – and what worse penalty could there be for a cruiser than to have to don an unnecessary item of clothing! We plan to have a clothes bag handy for when we meet someone who is game for the game. Contents: socks!

(By the way, thank you to Affiah for bringing all their old gym socks for our boat polishing. As you can see, we have found another use for them to stay in line with that old cruiser maxim: Everything on your boat should have at least two uses).

Flour Shortage in St. Martin

We went to our usual large grocery store in St. Martin to stock up the boat before heading southbound. I am now making bread, and needed a big bag of flour. After sending me on a wild goose chase down nearly every aisle, the stock person finally asked the manager. I was surprised to learn that the store was out of flour. In fact, said the manager, there is a flour shortage in St. Martin. C’mon, Saskatchewan, are you stock piling your wheat again? Anyway, the very helpful manager suggested I might try a Chinese grocer. Sure enough, in our favourite Chinese corner grocer, there was a big bag of Canadian Robin Hood flour, plus a number of jars of chili-garlic sauce and Crix crackers, which cannot usually be found in the French islands.

But back to the shortage: Everywhere we looked, there were still large numbers of baguettes for sale. So it appears that there is, in fact, plenty of flour in St. Martin, but only for baguette vendors. Reminds us of “gas shortages” in previous decades. Yah, sure.

Pirates in April

Everyone asks us if we are worried about pirates. This month, April, we met the worst of the lot. No, not Pirates of the Caribbean. Worse than that: the Tax Man. Yes, this is income tax month and even Canadian cruisers who are not eligible for Canadian health care or drivers’ licenses have to dish out a big portion of their measly income. And, as is the way with pirates, our thief’s identity is unclear. The Tax Man keeps changing his name: Revenue Canada? CCRA? CRA? Taxation Canada? Pirates of the Great White North? Any Canadian reader who knows, good for you! No need to email us, because we only check our email every couple of weeks and it will probably be changed by then.

Other than the Tax Man, we have not met any other pirates. Yes, we will be concerned when we are in Venezuela, when we are near Somalia, and when we pass through the Strait of Malacca. We have been familiarizing ourselves with all the safety precautions we should take, and have all the alarms, bars and locks on CanKata that we might need. We plan to travel in convoys. We hope we have better luck defending ourselves against the tropical pirates than against those in the Great White North.

Easter in St. Martin = July 1 in Canada

On Easter Sunday, we met a local fisherman, Gary, who said, “Today, my woman is on the beach. Easter – it’s the only time she’ll go”. And we did notice that there were many more locals on the beach. As we sailed around the island of St-Martin, we were surprised to see tents pitched everywhere, the water full of laughing and squealing locals, and as day turned into night, the partying didn’t slow down.

It was like the July 1 weekend in Canada. It was good to see the locals claim back their surf and sand from the tourists. Yes, it appears that Easter marks that turning point. While there are still a number of cruisers and charter boats around at this time, Easter certainly heralds the beginning of the season when northerners stay home. And it heralds the season when CanKata heads south with most the other cruisers of the Caribbean. The “wet season” will soon be starting, the weather patterns will be changing, and cruisers will be looking for safe spots.

Summer and hurricanes are just around the corner.

What do we miss?

A question that many people ask us is “What do you miss”? I suppose when you live at sea on a 37-foot boat and often need to rely on small villages to provide you with provisions and boat parts, it could be easy to miss some of the luxuries of North American living.

We could be smart alecks and say we miss blizzards, mosquitoes, dust storms, 40 below weather, ice storms, winterizing CanKata, rush hour traffic, work, and regular visits to the dentist, but that would make us smart alecks. To be honest, we do sometimes miss Canadian Tire. There is just no equivalent down here.

But other than that, we are managing very nicely without all the comforts previously provided to us by the Canadian Government and the Hudson Bay Company. So the answer, which you already know, is that we miss our family and friends. We are thankful for email and would certainly miss that if it ever became unavailable. So thank you all for keeping in touch. You are helping us to feel very much at home on CanKata.

Business Opportunity

By Darrel:

As landlubbers, you probably think that due to the sedate lifestyle that cruisers lead we lose our ability to be innovative. I can quickly recall two innovative cruisers whom we recently met. The first is Captain Phil, S/V Splendid Adventure, who along with his spouse has developed a series of spicy sauces that are currently being sold throughout the Caribbean under the name Wreck-Tum Sauce. The second is Pat, S/V Mirus, who shared with us a few of her innovations currently under consideration – one being a marina park for geriatric cruisers. Imagine docks and ramps for the mobility impaired, access to all forms of assistance, e.g. someone to scrub your water line, to remove the hook from that five foot shark you happened to snag one the way back from the sunset cruise, or to snorkel for the domino tile that accidentally went overboard.

Just this week, Loretta came up with her own innovation. It all started three days ago when we were into our third day-passage without either of us having caught a fish when Loretta decided she was going to spit on her lure prior to putting it out. Well she did not even have her line completely out yet when she felt a tug and wondered aloud if she might have caught a fish. My first instinct was “of course not” -- my line was already out and it sat there quiet and limp. But after taking a look to our stern I could see a beautiful five pound Cero dragging helplessly behind and apparently going in the same direction and at the same speed as CanKata. Next day, same ritual and even I succumbed to spitting on my lure. Well within the hour Loretta had landed a seven pound Blue Runner Jack. I however was still fishing and not catching. Today I just finished cleaning Loretta’s latest catch – another slightly smaller Blue Runner Jack.

I congratulated Loretta on her great fishing, but she answered, “It’s not a skill – it’s just good spit”.

So, in the future when you are wandering the “Fishing” isle of your local Canadian Tire, don’t be surprised when you see a tiny bottle with a spray nozzle. I am still working on the brand name, perhaps Spittle for Victuals but you should be able to recognize the mermaid with Loretta’s face on the label.

Loretta on Spitting:

I have two confessions to make: First, I also spit into my facemask before I snorkel. It keeps the mask from fogging up. (Don’t try this with ski goggles in the winter – you’ll end up with worse problems than fogging).

My second confession: I used to think spitting was disgusting. If I saw a guy spit, he would be reduced from “gentleman” to just plain man. I kicked young boys out of our yard if I caught them spitting. I didn’t like to play mixed slow pitch because of all the spitting that when on.

And now here I am, a pro spitter. Life does take funny little turns, especially when we are pushed. But we are catching fish and I have seen incredible sights through my snorkel mask. If the term “gentlewoman” was part of our day-to-day vocabulary, I don’t think it would be used to describe me.

Another Boat Repair

Darrel has a long list of items aboard CanKata that need to be repaired. He has a schedule and everything will eventually get his attention. But the other day we had a mini crisis aboard our boat, and priorities had to change.

A bit of history is needed here. We carry spares of important items on board. When we left Ottawa, we had eight spare toothbrushes. We got quite a deal on them. Now we know why: the handles are too thick. You’ll understand in a moment why this posed a problem. While this brand of toothbrush is called “Advantage Plus”, the design proved to be no advantage whatsoever.

If you ever read the small print on toothbrush packaging, you will know that “dentists recommend changing your brush every 3 months”. So it had been 8 months since we had cracked open the last free brushes earned from dentist visits. We probably would have gone longer, because we know that dentists have shares in toothbrush companies, but our bristles were starting to fall out. So out came the new “Advantage Plus” brushes with their fat handles.

We knew right away we had a problem. When we tried to put the new brushes in our built-in toothbrush holder, they wouldn’t fit. We were stunned. Who would make a toothbrush that won’t fit into a standard toothbrush holder? Probably someone who has stock in the new “Advantage Plus” toothbrush holder.

So Darrel had to change his priorities for the day. Out came the drill and various other tools to assist with the job. He cleared his work area of other tasks that had been underway, and immediately attended to the too-small holes in the toothbrush holder. Within a half hour, the holder was capable of handling the new toothbrushes.

This may sound like extreme measures, but you have to remember that we had eight spare brushes – four each. By my calculations, at roughly eight months per toothbrush, that would be 32 months of some sort of temporary fix. So a permanent modification to the holder seemed in order. It is working great, and Darrel has resumed his usual maintenance schedule, with clean teeth and fresh breath.

Free Spirits

We met a couple of self-described free spirits while we were in Grenada. They are on a boat with no fridge. We were more curious about how they were managing without a fridge than why they considered themselves free spirits, although we did wonder why they didn’t fly their home country flag. They explained that, being American, they weren’t sure it was wise to fly the stars and stripes in Grenada and at their next destination, Venezuela. It appears that their free-spiritedness has been a little stifled by their current government.

Anyway, they manage very nicely without a fridge. They don’t cook much, except for making a variety of soups from packets. They eat specially packaged seaweed and vitamin supplements and soy stuff that doesn’t sound very yummy.

They also do not have a water maker, a ham radio, or a motor for their dinghy. They use oars. They are stronger and healthier than most cruisers we have met, so maybe there is a lot to be said about the simple approach.

A Gift from Billie

We were anchored in Chatham Bay, Union Island (Grenadines) when we noticed a boat was trying to anchor near us. We had met them in another bay, and had hoped that we would meet up again. They made several attempts to anchor, but couldn’t get a good holding. Darrel and I had been snorkelling around CanKata at the time, so we took it upon ourselves to find a nice sandy anchoring spot, free of weeds and rocks. When they dropped their anchor where we suggested, it didn’t land properly so Darrel dove down and turned it so that it would grab well in the sand.

They thanked us, accepted our free advice on anchoring, agreed to meet us later for sundowners, and then asked us how the snorkelling was. We answered that there was nothing much to see, but we were looking for a clothespin that I had dropped. I have some nice, sturdy, plastic pins that work great in the strong trade winds, so when I drop them overboard, we usually make an attempt (usually unsuccessful) to find them.

When Billie and Martin eventually joined us for sundowners and more anchoring advice, Billie presented me with a gift – a dozen clothespins. That’s what we love about cruisers – we take good care of each other.

No Hablo Mucho Espanol

We are out of the French islands now, and in a few months we will be moving into Spanish territory. So we have packed away our French-English dictionary and have pulled out our Living Language Ultimate Spanish Basic-Intermediate package: eight 60-minute cassettes and a 416-page textbook. We have agreed that we will study Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays (unless there is an emergency like a non-functioning toothbrush holder).

We had studied a bit of Spanish while living in Ottawa, but all I remember from that is one phrase, “Nosotros lavamos las ventanas” – We wash the windows. Darrel remembers, “Una cerveza por favor” – A beer please.

After a couple of weeks of studying, we have another phrase down pat: “Hay alquien aqui que hable ingles?” – Is there anyone here who speaks English?

From what we hear, there probably will be. I think we’ll get along just fine.

Our Sergeant Major

We were snorkelling around Cankata in Salt Whistle Bay, Mayreau (Grenadines), checking out her bottom, when we noticed a tiny sergeant major hovering around our starboard propeller. This fish is part of the damselfish family and has dark bars on its yellow body, resembling the traditional insignia of the military rank. We usually see sergeant majors in large numbers, and were pretty surprised to see the little loner under our boat.

We were very surprised when, at the next anchorage– Chatham Bay, our little friend was still there. I know we don’t sail very fast, but this is just an itty-bitty fish! Darrel figures he tucks into the cavity for the sail drive when we’re underway. The chain of surprises continued: Frigate Bay, Sandy Island, Ronde Island, St. George’s Bay, and Clarke’s Court Bay (Grenada). We were starting to worry about what would happen in Trinidad, where we plan to be hauled out. What would our striped friend do then?

As it happens, it appears that Clarke’s Court Bay is where Sarge decided to make his home. The day before we left, Darrel checked in on him but he was gone. Grenada is a lovely island and we hope he will be happy there.

Laundry Evolution

Our friends on Roamer have always loved their onboard washer and dryer. Now they love them even more since seeing the antiquated way that CanKata’s laundry is done.

I started out with a fairly sophisticated way of laundering. I purchased a “WonderWash Pressure Washing Machine” through the Internet, which cost less that $100 Canadian. It operates like a lettuce spinner with the added feature of a pressure seal that helps get laundry sparkling clean with just a few minutes of spinning. I used this method of washing for over a year, but I still had to wring everything by hand and put the washed items through numerous rinses. The fresh Caribbean breezes and hot sun ensured that I had dry laundry in just a few hours. A lesson learned early: use LOTS of clothespins on each item.

Over time, I began to tire of hauling out the WonderWash and then drying it for storage once I was finished with it. I looked at our four buckets, which are always conveniently located in or near the cockpit, and decided to revert to a more primitive way of washing, a way that is still popular with many cruisers. I bought a plunger. I caught rainwater in the buckets. After a decent rainfall, into the buckets went the dirty laundry along with a splash of detergent, and out came the plunger. My upper body strength improved over time. I still had to wring everything by hand and put the washed items through numerous rinses.

Over time, I began to tire of plunge plunge plunging. One day, while enjoying a glass of red wine while resting my laundry-weary arms and watching the sunset, I had a vision of myself stomping on grapes. I knew right away what the vision meant.

The next laundry day, the plunger stayed in its locker. Into the buckets went the dirty laundry along with a splash of detergent, followed by my feet. I stomped for several minutes and was very pleased with the results. My lower body strength is improving over time. I still have to wring everything by hand and put the washed items through numerous rinses, but I am hoping that some evening, while drinking wine and enjoying the sunset, another vision will come to me.

And now you know why we hardly wear any clothes.

For sale: One WonderWash Pressure Washing Machine and one plunger.

Biting Fish and Nesting Birds

There is lots of wildlife in Trinidad. In one bay, we listen to howler monkeys while watching hundreds of vultures soar above us. Dolphins sometimes come to visit, and a few times we have seen a ray fish leap several feet out of the water. Twice daily, at roughly 8:00 a.m. and 5:00 p.m., dozens of parrots fly past in pairs and chirp at us before settling in the trees. In the evenings, the diving pelicans entertain us by indelicately plopping into the water for their evening snacks.

But not all the wildlife gives us pleasure. Take the biting fish, for instance. There is a small school that is hanging around our boat, probably feeding off the growth on our hulls, that thinks the mole on my butt is something edible – maybe a water beetle or something. It has got to the point that, when I bath in the sea, Darrel has to hold his hand over my mole so I can do it in peace. There are probably other methods I could use to discourage the fish, but that solution is the one Darrel prefers.

And then there are the rough-winged swallows. Sure, they are beautiful and make a wonderful chirping noise, but they are determined to nest in CanKata’s boom! These little pests are part of a breed that doesn’t like to bother to dig their own nesting burrows, but would rather use ready-made nesting sites. So we have had to shove towels in the boom and hang old CDs to scare them away. But they are focussed and now a little annoyed with us, and are constantly swooping by and making angry chirping noises at us, and can often be found perched on Darrel’s fishing rod or our man-overboard pole. And they poop on our swim platform. I hope they soon find another site before it is too late to nest.

We plan to see more of the wildlife in Trinidad, friendly or pesky, and look forward to getting some photos to share with you later.

Shadow Beni

A short while ago, we were eating channa with friends. Channa is dried and spiced chickpeas – a tasty little snack. These ones were particularly spicy, so we were looking at the list of ingredients, one of which was “shadow beni” (sometimes spelt benny or beny). None of us had heard of that seasoning, so our friends looked it up on the web when they got back to their marina and learned that it is a part of the cilantro family.

That evening, we were visiting our friends at the marina when a vendor passed by and asked if “the missus” wanted to by some herbs. Our friend said she would love some cilantro, but the vendor said, “I’ve only got shadow beni”. What a coincidence. Actually, he had a whole bunch of shadow beni, so I got some too. It doesn’t look like cilantro, but tastes exactly like it. It lasts longer in the fridge, and I’m convinced it has addictive qualities. I can’t seem to get enough of it. Poor Darrel has gently hinted that he’s getting a little too much in his salads and salsa, but his complaints have fallen on deaf ears.

So if you find yourself in Grenada or Trinidad and can get your hands on some shadow beni (I’m pretty sure it is a legal substance), give it a try. Just be prepared to go through some withdrawal symptoms when your supply runs out.

Sinking Ships – June 11, 2006

Today Darrel and I watched a ship sink. Darrel had noticed that one of the big freighters in the anchorage was listing, and sure enough, it turned turtle and sank. Although it is the first sinking we have ever witnessed, it was pretty unimpressive compared to the movie Titanic. There was a bit of flotsam and some bubbling of water, but no other special effects.

A fellow cruiser called the coast guard on VHF Channel 16 to alert them. They didn’t respond. He made a general query on Channel 68 (the channel that cruisers in Trinidad monitor) to find out how to contact the coast guard. He was informed that he had to telephone them.

Darrel and I don’t have a phone so I guess we’ll be asking our fellow cruisers for help if we ever need it.

A couple hours after the ship sank (it is in 65 feet of water), the coast guard showed up. No one had been on board, so perhaps the coast guard knew that. There is another abandoned ship in the anchorage that looks like it is about to sink. I don’t expect anyone will call the coast guard for that one.

Bread and Potatoes – by Darrel

During my previous career as a researcher of housing technology I came across a number of nifty tricks of the trade. One example, which I often had the opportunity to use, was using bread when doing a plumbing repair. Anyone who has tried to solder copper pipe that has standing water in the line knows that this is an almost impossible task. The dribble of water will steam the joint resulting in a leaky repair. The solution to this is to put a bit of bread in each side of the pipe at the repair location, which will temporarily absorb any water in this location and provide a dry zone to solder. Once the soldering is complete and you reopen the valve, the remaining bread dissolves and quickly washes away.

You are likely wondering what this has to do with my current career, i.e. cruiser. Well it all started back in Saint Martin when the rather large curved window in our salon started to leak. This window is set flush into the deck and has a relatively large gap around its perimeter that is filled with a sealant. Upon close examination I could see a hairline gap in a number of places around this sealant due to it having let go from the fibreglass substrate. I have done a fair bit of caulking in my days as a homeowner but I found this large, long, curved gap intimidating. I knew the most challenging part of this repair would be the final stage, i.e. providing an even and smooth finish. My previous caulking jobs were usually finished with my finger, which I kept dipping in a glass of water, but this gap was 16mm (3/4”) wide and my finger was not going to do the trick. I do have another part of my anatomy that could do it. Unfortunately, Loretta caught me sliding my big toe back and forth over the existing sealant and she asked me what I was up to. When I explained the situation, she quickly put her foot down - on my big toe - and told me we would get someone who knew how to properly undertake this repair in Trinidad.

So here we are today in Trinidad with Scooby doing the repair between the daily rain showers. Of course I am watching him carefully, not because I don’t trust him, but because I want to be prepared to do this type of repair in the future. I asked Scooby how or what he intended to use to finish the bead, hoping it was not his big toe. He replied without hesitation “a potato”. He went on to say that he soaks a potato in water and then slices and scallops it to fit the required contour. These tricks of the trade never fail to amaze me. All I need to do now is figure out a way to do this with the instant smashed potatoes that we normally carry on-board.

Leatherback Turtles – July 2006

Darrel and I finally got off the boat for a while and went on a tour to see the leatherback turtles in Trinidad. Leatherbacks are the largest living turtles and can weigh more than 2,000 pounds. Unlike other sea turtles, the leatherback lacks large, horny scales on its shell; instead, it has leathery skin embedded with a mosaic of small bones. The limbs are strong and paddle-shaped for swimming long distances. The male spends its adult lifetime in the sea; the female emerges only to lay eggs on beaches. Leatherbacks feed mostly on jellyfish. (Thank you Encarta for all this information).

Unfortunately, some leatherbacks confuse discarded plastic garbage bags for jellyfish and, upon trying to eat them, choke and drown on the plastic. We were told that this is a common cause of death. We see a lot of plastic floating in the Trinidad waters and wish there were better waste controls here.

We boarded a “maxi taxi” with eleven others, and endured a rough two-and-a-half-hour ride to Matura Beach, one of the nesting grounds for the leatherbacks. We left at five p.m., and were pleasantly surprised that there was no rush hour traffic to slow us down. Trinidad was playing in the World Cup on that evening, so at 1:30 (just a half hour before the game), the Prime Minister told everyone to go home and watch the game. The roads became so plugged at that time that most Trinis didn’t get home until the game was nearly over. But it did mean smooth sailing for us (except for the last half-hour which was over severely washed-out roads).

We arrived at the beach just after sunset. Our taxi driver, Jessie James, gave us the drill: no lights, stay quiet, photos only when told it is okay, and use lots of mosquito spray. As we were spraying ourselves and unpacking our rain gear (it is the rainy season), Jessie went to the beach to see if the patrol had spotted any nesting turtles. He came running back and announced that indeed there was a female just starting to dig her nest.

We were lucky that night. We were the only group there (sometimes there can be 300 people on the beach), and we were able to watch two females lay their eggs. The biggest treat was that the patrol also found a baby leatherback (freshly hatched from a nest laid months earlier) trying to make its way to the sea. It was on its back beside two headless siblings – the patrol probably found the live one just in time before a crab, dog, or bird bit its head off. We all got to hold it before the patrol took it away to give it time to get a bit stronger before releasing it to the sea. It seemed pretty feisty so we’re hopeful it will survive.

So please discard your plastics carefully – we want our young survivor to eat jellyfish only.

Asphalt and Cremations – July 2006

Jesse James, our favourite tour guide, took us to see Pitch Lake – a huge body of natural asphalt continuously seeping up from the ground in the south end of Trinidad. We were lucky that it had just rained, so it wasn’t too hot or smelly on the lake. It was a little scary walking across the black pitch, but we were assured we wouldn’t sink or stick as long as we followed in the footsteps of the guide.

It was a fascinating tour, and I was especially interested to hear that the lake keeps replenishing itself even though it is mined regularly. However, we did notice that trees and buildings in the vicinity were starting to sink into the lake.

After the tour of Pitch Lake, Jesse took us to a Wild Fowl Trust, but we ran into a traffic jam near a Hindu burning ground. Hindus cremate their dead in a special celebration that involves something very similar to a bonfire. A coffin is placed on enough kindling to ensure a decent cremation. Each coffin has its own bonfire. Trinidad had experienced a particularly rainy spell, which meant that cremations were backlogged. On this particular day, the day of our tours, the sun came out and so did the matches. It was an incredible sight to see, which explains why the traffic was backed up. Everyone seemed to be mesmerized by the fire and smoke, including us.

Anyway, given that Jesse’s tour (which doesn’t usually include the cremations) was the pitch lake and the wild fowl, we suggested to him that he call it the “Tar and Feather Tour”. He’s considering it.

Black Soot – July 2006

How unfortunate that this story follows the one on cremations. However, it is the next semi-significant incident for CanKata’s crew, so here it is.

We stayed in a marina for two days so that we could have some welding and rigging work done. On our first day tied up, a nearby commercial fishing vessel burped out a huge cloud of black smoke. The black soot landed on quite a few boats, but ours happened to be one of the few with her hatches opened, so we were covered inside and out with the soot. We cleaned up immediately, and a downpour of rain shortly afterwards helped out, but we still had to do quite a bit of laundry to get the soot out of curtains, rugs, clothing, etc. We knew which fishing boat was the offender, so I paid them a visit to see what they suggested as a remedy.

At first, they tried to deny that it was their boat, but we had an eyewitness, so I continued with the visits, did some investigative work and found the owner’s name and number. With the cooperation of our marina manager, we started to prepare a complaint letter to the environmental authorities. I left the owner a phone message, giving him one last chance to speak to us before we issued the letter, and he did send a representative the next day to visit CanKata and see some evidence. In the end, the representative decided we were good folk (we invited him aboard for a drink), settled on an amount to reimburse us for laundry costs, and then invited us to a traditional Indian wedding (we had to decline because it was too far away). They have since made mechanical repairs to the fishing vessel, so everyone in the marina is happy. We’re sorry we couldn’t make it to the wedding.

Security, Security – July 2006

There is a boat in the vicinity that is named “Security”. I still get a little alarmed when someone hails it. “Security, Security, Security” is not what you want to hear on the VHF radio.

We have the radio on most of the day. This is a very active cruising community here in Trinidad during the hurricane season, and there are always general announcements and queries being made, and often friends hail us to plan a get-together. Hearing “Security” being hailed would probably not alarm me so much if security weren’t an issue here. Unfortunately, there have recently been a number of dinghy thefts, a hold up, a mugging, and two armed boardings. We have set up a night watch system where each boat, one night a week, gets up for a couple of hours in the middle of the night and flashes a flood light around. There are enough of us that there are floodlights flashing pretty regularly through the night. But there still have been two incidents since we started the night watches. Our activism has spurred on the coast guard and marinas so that security overall has improved a little bit, but obviously not enough.

Other troubling incidents have occurred. Last week, friends of ours had a particularly terrifying experience. They are a young couple with two young children, seven and four. They were getting off their boat into their dinghy, when a fishing boat that was speeding through the anchorage rammed the dinghy. It knocked the dad into the water, rode right on top of the two children, and rammed into the back of their sail boat while the mom watched, horrified, from the sail boat. She was the only one not quite in the dinghy at the time. Miraculously, no one was hurt. The dad managed to manoeuvre to avoid being chopped by the fishing vessel’s propeller, and the children had both ducked into the bottom of the dinghy. The four passengers of the fishing vessel weren’t in any danger, and their boat wasn’t damaged in any way. Our friends’ dinghy suffered considerable damage and the back of their boat needs a lot of repairs, plus they had an authentic dugout canoe on the back of the boat that was badly damaged. But no one was hurt.

Why it happened: the throttle control/steering mechanism on the motor of the fishing vessel had broken off, so the captain was steering by grabbing the motor and turning it from side to side, and was unable to decelerate when he saw he was running into trouble. Sadly, he sees himself as a victim in this accident. “What could I do?” he moaned to our friend.

The response of the cruisers in the anchorage was impressive. Instantly, dinghies were swarming the scene to provide assistance. I wish I could say the Trinidad coast guard was as responsive. We hailed them a number of times before they responded, then they wanted exact coordinates before they would come (“right in front of Power Boat Marina!” wasn’t descriptive enough for them), then it took quite a while before they arrived. But the fishing vessel did wait until the coast guard arrived, so we can only hope that action will be taken to ensure that that particular boat doesn’t ram anyone again. We haven’t seen it in the anchorage since.

So, yes, our ears pop up when we hear “Security” being hailed on the radio.

As a result of all the incidents that have occurred recently, we are even more anxious to leave Trinidad and start our passage west. Soon!

Desert Dust – July & August 2006

This is a “good news, bad news” story.

The bad news first: we’re finding it impossible to keep CanKata clean these days. The good news: African dust blowing into the Atlantic Ocean is impeding the formation of hurricanes.

We didn’t know until we began sailing in the Caribbean how much sand and camel dung could affect the weather. The red Saharan dust can really foil cyclonic air movement. There were a few tropical systems in July that looked like they might form into something menacing, but that good ole African dust calmed them right down.

But our topsides are a mess. A fine, red dust keeps settling on all the boats, and even when it rains, the raindrops wash the dust out of the air and onto our boats. But we’re not complaining. We’d much rather face a dirty boat than a hurricane. Although we are outside of the hurricane zone, we can still get the strong winds that come with them. So three cheers for the dust, and may the Sahara Desert never run dry.

Hard on the Hard – August 2006

We spent a week “on the hard” at Peake Marine in Trinidad. We had to get hauled out of the water to have new anti-fouling paint applied to CanKata’s bottom and to have new rigging installed (a year earlier than necessary, but in a year’s time we will be in a place where no riggers exist). We also had the mainsail and sail cover removed and modified to fit the new mast track system that will make it easier to raise and lower the mainsail.

In her song “The Hard”, Eileen Quinn has this to say:

It’s a hard, it’s a hard

it’s a hard, Lord it’s a hard

it’s a hard, hard life

life on the hard

for every job crossed off my list

I seem to add two more

I blinked and one week in the yard

somehow ran to four

but with a credit card and a little luck

soon we’ll be afloat

please mister lift driver

please don’t drop my boat

The story after this one (Leak at Peake) adds relevance to her lyrics.

While on the hard, we treated ourselves and stayed in an air-conditioned hotel while CanKata baked in the yard. We ate one meal out a day – a big, cheap lunch. We did laundry in the Laundromat (except for when the machines weren’t working). We repeatedly cleaned up after messy workers who forgot to take off their dirty boots and loved to touch anything white with their greasy hands. We arranged to fix things that the workers broke (like the new trampoline that we had installed last time we were on the hard). We wore mosquito repellent, which is something we don’t need to do when we’re at anchor. We bought ice every day because we can’t run our fridge on land and needed to keep some stuff cool (beer, for one). We gave workers cool beer after a job well done (e.g., taking off their boots). We had warm showers every night, well, every night except for the one when there was no water in the hotel.

We are pleased to report that are new standing rigging is tuned and shiny and sound, we have all new running rigging (lines), our trampoline is repaired and reinforced, and CanKata’s bottom is freshly painted. But the story doesn’t end here …

Leak at Peake – one day later

While we were on the hard at Peake Marine, we kept the freezer filled with ice to keep our food cool. As the ice melted, it ran into the bilge. When the bilge fills to a certain level, an alarm goes off and a pump automatically kicks in. We tried to avoid the alarm by sponging out the bilge regularly. However, the first night back in the water, we were awoken in the middle of the night by the shrill beeps of the bilge alarm.

I got up to attend to it. But the port bilge was dry. I checked the panel and saw that the flashing alarm light was for the starboard bilge. I figured that rainwater must have somehow leaked in while we were on the hard, I cleaned it out (forgetting to taste it to see if it was fresh or salty), and went back to bed. A short while later, the alarm went off again. Sure enough, it was the starboard bilge again. This time, I woke up Darrel and gave him the bad news. He did the taste test and, worst luck, it was salty. We had sprung a leak.

We knew it had to be related to something that happened when we were on the hard. There had been a lot of scraping of barnacles, some screwing, and of course the haul out and launch themselves. Diagnosis would probably be difficult. However, we both were pretty suspicious about a previous repair that had been done three years earlier. The yard we wintered at in Sodus Point, NY had damaged CanKata’s keel but had repaired it. Could it be that the strain of the haul out and relaunch had opened up the old injury?

So we had to get hauled out again. We contracted with a marine surveyor to watch the second haul out with us. We thought that a pair of expert eyes would help us diagnose the problem. It turns out that we didn’t really need him – it was immediately obvious that our keel was damaged. The surveyor was able to confirm that the previous repair job had been a sloppy one – the yard at Sodus Point has used a polyester resin instead of epoxy resin. “They got a mechanical bond, but not a chemical one”, was his explanation. “Uh-huh”, was my comment. But Darrel knew what he was talking about and closely monitored the new repairs. Definitely epoxy this time.

It took five days for the repair (mostly drying time). So we repeated the routine for on the hard – ice, beer, laundry, air conditioning, mosquito repellent, showers, and even threw a party (called a “lime” in Trinidad) for the yard workers. We gave them money for some cold beer, arranged to meet them at 4:00 under CanKata, bought some snacks and some more cold beer, invited some cruising friends, got cleaned up, and waited for our partiers to arrive. We were ready for limin’.

Well, everybody showed up, but not at CanKata. We found out later that the Peake limes are held in the shack at the haul-out slip. At 5:00, the time we had to leave to make a dinner date, a couple of yard workers showed up (“Ah, there you are Captain!”) to see why we weren’t at our party. We gave them the extra beer and snacks and then headed off for dinner. It’s not too often that we miss our own parties – in fact, I believe this was a first.

We are back in the water again and the bilge alarm hasn’t gone off. But we are still filling the fridge with ice, because now it has decided to conk out on us. Like Eileen sings: “for every job crossed off my list I seem to add two more” so I’ll end this story now or I’ll never get this update off.

Dead Computer

Just before we left Trinidad, our Toshiba laptop died. Luckily, I had just sent off our website updates for August, and I had backed-up most of our other stuff.

One of our neighbours in the anchorage was a computer expert, but he couldn’t help us – our hard drive was toast. Not knowing that we could buy an affordable replacement hard drive, Darrel and I went off and bought a new laptop. We already had a spare Toshiba on board, but we didn’t want to sail away without a backup in place. So for the next few days, I was very busy reinstalling software on our two working laptops. One of our software CDs was corroded, but a friend had a spare for us. We lost some photographs, communications and email addresses, but for the most part we were able to get up and running again without losing too much. We didn’t toss the old Toshiba, which is a good thing because we were able to buy another hard drive in Bonaire for an affordable price. So that will make it three laptops aboard CanKata. Sounds excessive, but in this salty and hot environment, where we rely heavily on our computer for navigating and communicating, it’s not such a bad idea.

So we are very glad that we have fairly good habits regarding backing up our computer. We are now more diligent than ever.

Off-Shore Venezuela: Night Passage – August 2006

On August 29, we left Trinidad to continue with our circumnavigation. Finally! We got a lot of needed work done while in Trinidad, but CanKata and her crew were chomping at the bit to get moving again. First stop: Los Testigos (the Witnesses), Venezuela.

We left Chaguaramas, Trinidad at 1645 hours, along with the sailing vessel Odyssey – a South African boat heading in the same direction at the same time. We had actually made arrangements to travel with two American S/Vs but they still had some work needing doing, so we hooked up with Jeremy, Vanessa, Kila (7) and Max (4). The passage to the islands of Los Testigos is not the safest … there have been pirates reported off the northern coast of Venezuela. Therefore, we figured it was a good idea to have at least one buddy boat. We also took a couple of other measures to increase our comfort level: we headed north before turning west, adding a number of miles to our journey but steering clear of the northern coast. We also travelled without lights – a scary first for us, but I’ll get into more detail on that later.

What a perfect night for a sail! Once we were well past the Venezuelan coast, we set our course for Los Testigos. Darrel had set three-hour shifts for us, and he started with the 1700-2000 shift. When I started my 2000-2300 shift, we were in “lights out” mode, and I couldn’t see Odyssey. Darrel had the radar on, and there were a few little black specks on the screen. “This one is Odyssey”, he points out. We then made some sail adjustments and had a little snack. When I took over the helm, I wasn’t too sure which black speck on the screen was Odyssey. Given that we were travelling on the same track and fairly close together, and not wanting to run into our buddy boat, I needed to make sure I knew exactly where they were. We hailed them on the VHF (on a pre-selected channel so that we didn’t have to use the regular hailing channel, which would have alerted any pirates in the area that we were there) and asked them to flash their running lights for a couple of seconds. They asked us to do the same, and once we knew exactly where each other was, it was lights out again. I adjusted the radar to eliminate some of the other black specks (waves created by CanKata), and then it became evident that Odyssey was the only vessel in the vicinity.

CanKata has made a number of night passages before, but never with her lights out. I was a little spooked at first, but as the night got darker, the quarter moon got brighter and a zillion starts popped out. As my eyes got accustomed to the dark, I found that the glow of our many instruments was starting to bother my eyes, so I turned down the brightness of the GPS and radar. The little red glow coming from Jenny, our wind generator, was comforting – she was helping to keep our instrumentation running. The glow from our VHF radio indicated that we were on Channel 71, where Odyssey was standing by, and that we were in “dual” mode with Channel 16, in case there were any emergency announcements from a Coast Guard vessel. The little red lights on our “Link 10” showed that there were many hours of use left on our bank of batteries. The “Auto” indicator on our Autohelm showed that Otto (our pet name for him) was working well to keep CanKata on track, and I didn’t have to adjust the steering wheel myself. The indicator on the little highway on our GPS (global positioning system) let me know if I was veering off course, and then I would give Otto a command or two and then, presto, we were back on course. Frequent checking of the radar comforted me that Odyssey was still where she should be, and that no other vessels were in the vicinity.

I looked behind me to see the fading glow of Trinidad. I received a pleasant surprise – there was the constellation Orion the Hunter just above the horizon. He was in an unusual position, laying on his side, so I guess he was still on summer vacation. The Milky Way formed an arch above us, and it truly was milky – so many stars that they formed a puddle of white. The quarter moon was dropping into the west, saying, “Follow me; follow me”. It eventually set and the night became even darker and the stars even brighter. Then the phosphorescence started to glow in the wake of CanKata – stars in the water – beauty all around us.

Off in the distance I noticed some flashing lights, and I checked the radar. Only Odyssey was registering, so I figured it was a small fishing boat. It appeared as though they may be flashing a slow Morse code signal, so I paid close attention. First an E, and then an I, then another E, another I, then an O. EIEIO. Ah, they were flashing Old MacDonald to us. I then noticed I was near the end of my watch, must be hallucinating, and was glad when Darrel took over the helm.

We arrived in the little paradise of Los Testigos at 0900 on August 30. Finally -- white beaches, crystal-clear water, fishing right off our boat, sand dunes to romp in, and friendly locals. Well worth the overnight journey.

Boobies – September 2006

By Darrel

I should start off by clarifying that this entry is not at all related to the boobies that are commonly seen on the beaches of St. Martin, nor is it a self-admittance of character due to some of the things that I have done while cruising. This is about the large tropical seabirds with white plumage and often with brightly coloured bills and web-feet.

We were in the Aves de Barlavento which is one of the most westerly out-islands of Venezuela. Aves in Spanish means birds of prey, and let me tell you that this group of islands is appropriately named since it is home to a large number and variety of boobies, as well as other flying species. The boobies are easily approached and do not seem to mind you taking their pictures even when nesting. We saw some with red feet, blue bills and blue rings around their eyes. The young are all white and quite furry.

Unfortunately, these birds can also be a nuisance. For example, while sailing from one island to the next we were unable to troll since the boobies would dive bomb our lures mistaking it for a tasty snack. They are also known to land on boats and walk around, sometimes falling through an open hatch and becoming trapped inside – which is how the term booby hatch evolved.

I know I have an affinity for boobies. Always have, suppose I always will.

Remoteness – September 2006

For nearly three glorious weeks, the Captain and crew of CanKata couldn’t shop, eat out in restaurants, or make any appointments with guys to work on our boat. For 20 days, there was no loud music coming from shore, no city lights to dull the stars, no crime, and no local cruisers VHF net to let us know when and where the next Mexican Train Dominoes game would be played.

With our buddy boats, Apparition and Wind Machine, we entertained ourselves by exploring uninhabited islands, snorkelling, fishing, beachcombing, watching sunsets, searching for booby nests, and marvelling at the peace and quiet. The highlight of one day was watching the moon rise as the sun set.

For nearly three glorious weeks, we were in the off-shore islands of Venezuela: Los Testigos, Blanquilla, Los Roques, and Las Aves. We scratch our heads when we try to figure out why we spent so much time in the murky waters of Trinidad when we could have been hurricane-safe in these islands. Granted, there are no chandleries or repair shops here, but it would not be that far to sail to a commercial location if needed. Certainly, when we return to the Caribbean after our circumnavigation, we will spend more time in this part of Venezuela. These islands were what we were dreaming of when we planned this adventure.

ABC Islands: Bonaire – September 2006

The island of Bonaire is part of the ABC islands (Aruba, Bonaire and Curaçao) that form the Leeward Netherlands Antilles. It’s not a bad place to be during hurricane season since the ABCs are classed as the least likely to have a tropical storm or hurricane in the Caribbean. The air is pretty dusty, though, and reminds us of our home province, Saskatchewan, on a dry summer day.

The water in Bonaire is incredibly clear, right up to the town dock. Bonaire is noted for its spectacular reefs, and offers snorkelers and divers an “underwater wonderland of intricate corals and dazzling fish”. There are also plenty of flamingos here – the pink plumage, long legs, and slender neck are quite a sight. We were greeted by a formation of four when we arrived. Recognized for its great variety of fauna and flora, Bonaire has designated almost its entire coastline as a marine park and strictly enforces rules regarding its use.

We had to pay for a snorkelling permit (first time ever) but it was worth it. We also had to rent a mooring ball for $10 US a day – there is a “no anchoring” policy in Bonaire to protect the coral, and, perhaps, provide some income for the island. We don’t mind paying, but wish we had more anchoring options. The Customs and Immigration officials were professional and friendly, but made us turn in our flare gun (first time ever). Once we pick it up again, we have one-half hour to leave the island. I guess they’re worried about what we crazy cruisers can do if they let us loose for an hour on their Caribbean island with our flare guns.

Bonaire looks more European than the other islands we have visited, but the culture is still very Caribbean – friendly and slow-paced and lots of loud music until the wee hours of the morning, or later. While this is a small island – population is around 10,000 – the shopping is great. We were able to get all sorts of boat parts and, my favourite: shoes (waterproof Crocs, to be more specific).

The cruisers that are here are all moored in two rows, about 100 and 200 feet from shore in about 20 feet of water, and just a few feet away from where the shelf drops off into 1000 feet of water. We can snorkel right off our boats to enjoy the abundant coral and fish life on the edge of the shelf, and numerous other coral patches inside the mooring field. There are about 35 boats moored here with us, and we have an active social life with them. Tuesdays we have a potluck supper and Thursdays we meet up at a local bar for happy hour. We snorkel regularly with a couple of other boats, and generally follow the snorkelling with drinks and games on one of the boats. Darrel and I still tend to go to bed when the sun drops, so night life for us is virtually non-existent. But our days are so full.

But we do miss the peace and quiet of the off-shore islands of Venezuela, and are looking forward to spending lots of time in the San Blas Islands of Panama, which are also noted for their remoteness. We should be there by late October, and that means it will be lobster season! We hope to be able to put our Hawaiian slings to good use.

Class Project, Marysville School

CanKata is being followed! By a pack of ten-year-olds!

It is not nearly as ominous as it sounds. Our friend Dawn from Cat Tales has arranged a class project with her cousin and fellow teacher Lynn Facey from Alexander Gibson Memorial Elementary School (better known as Marysville Elementary), Lynn is going to have her Grade Four class communicate with us as we circumnavigate so that they can learn more about the life of live-aboard sailors and the places they visit. Since we won’t often have internet access, we will be communicating through our SSB email.

The plan will be to receive a few questions each month from the class. We’ll answer as best we can by email, and will also post the questions and responses on this web site. It should be fun and we are really looking forward to it. I have already put out a challenge to the Grade Fours: When CanKata heads through the Panama Canal from the Caribbean to the Pacific, which direction, i.e. N E W S, will she be travelling through the canal?

Following is our first exchange with Lynn and her students. It was very interesting to see what ten-year-olds are curious about.

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Why did you decide to take such a big trip on a boat for so long? We were born and bred in the Saskatchewan, and maybe all those dusty summers and frigid winters in the prairies are what made us yearn for a life at sea and a life close to the equator. We boated for 8 years in Prince Edward Island and just as many years on the Big Rideau Lake in Ontario and discovered that we loved it.

Where did you start your sailing adventure? We lived in Ottawa and kept our boat in Lake Ontario. We sailed away from Lake Ontario in September 2004.

Why did you buy CanKata? We wanted a catamaran for a number of reasons, such as: it does not heel (lean over when sailing), it can go in shallow water (the draft is 1.2 meters), it has a large cockpit for eating and playing games, and it is very stable and doesn't rock in anchorages. We selected the Privilege because it is strong enough for a circumnavigation.

Do you ever get sea sick? We both have been sick once each. We have taken seasickness medication a few times. Now we have our "sea legs" but are still careful with what we eat and drink when we are on a passage (nothing too spicy).

What is it like being on a sailboat every day and every night? We both love it. Our boat has lots of room and we are mostly outside on the deck or in the cockpit, so we get lots of air and sunshine. We are accustomed to the motion caused by the waves. But we do get to land quite often.

What was Trinidad like? It is a beautiful, lush island with lots of tropical plants and birds and some howler monkeys. The water is a bit murky and it has garbage floating in it. We hope you are all careful about recycling and proper disposal of your garbage.

Does it get cold at night or is it warm all the time? Where we are, it is warm all the time. We never use a blanket when we sleep. After the hot days, it is a relief when the sun sets so that we cool off a little bit. On October 13 in Curacao, the high was 29 degrees and the low was 25.

Is it cold in the winter time? Not here (in the Caribbean). In fact, around here, they don't talk about summer and winter. They use the terms "wet season" and "dry season". The summer months are the wettest.

Do you miss your family? Yes, so we hope they come to visit us often.

Do you miss your friends? Yes, and we hope they come to visit us, too.

Do you miss living in a house? No. We did that for over 50 years and that was enough.

What places have you visited lately? We just visited some small islands to the north of Venezuela, and are now heading to some small islands off the east coast of Panama.

What kind of fish are there? There are many kinds but they can be broken down into two categories; pelagic and reef fish. They all stink after a while once they have been caught.

What is the biggest fish you have seen? We have seen many porpoises, some that were about 1.8 meters in length. The biggest fish we caught was a Dorado measuring 1.2 meters in length.

Have you ever seen a barracuda? We have caught and eaten some, which were very tasty, and we have seen many while snorkeling. None have hurt us except for one that bit Darrel when he was trying to get a hook out of its mouth. It wasn't a serious injury.

Have you ever seen a shark or a whale? We have seen nurse sharks and a couple of whales. We have not been in any areas yet where there are dangerous sharks.

Do you collect sea shells? When we are allowed to, we certainly do. We are collecting special shells with holes in them so we can string them together and make an abacus for our two grandchildren. We have already made two so that we can keep our own scores when playing dominoes and scrabble.

Have you ever watched "Around the World in 80 Days"? No. We're going to take a lot longer than 80 days.

Can you touch the bottom of the ocean? This must be a trick question. When we are swimming at a beach, we touch the bottom of the ocean when we stand up. If we are in 25 feet of water, I can dive down and touch the bottom. If we are in 60 feet of water, my husband can scuba dive and touch the bottom. If it is any deeper than that, then the answer for us would be no.

Did you ever have a pirate on your boat? Never. We did have our car stolen when we were living in Ottawa and our house broken into when we lived in Saskatchewan, though. Pirates are simply thieves who travel on boats and steal from other boats. Just like we locked up our house and car when living on land, we lock up our boat and dinghy.

Do you ever go shopping? Certainly. Where there are people, there are usually stores. We buy groceries and boat parts and sarongs. On the few uninhabited islands that we have seen, there are no stores so we waited until the next inhabited island to shop.

How do you buy groceries? When we anchor at an island, we take our dinghy to shore and then walk to a store. We load groceries in our back packs. We aren't very fussy, so whatever is available is good enough for us. If we know we are going to be away from inhabited islands for a long time, we buy lots of groceries. Then we catch a taxi or bus, if available, to help us with our load.

How do you keep your food? We store our food mostly the same way as you do. We have a fridge, freezer and a pantry. We also store some food in the bilges (area below the floor boards) and in small hammocks hanging in the cockpit.

What would you do if you ran out of food? With all the food on board this is unlikely, but if we were getting low we would be more serious about fishing. In a real emergency we would resort to eating sea birds, insects, and the green slimy stuff that sometimes forms on the bottom of our boat (yummy).

Do you ever go to church? In many islands it is possible for visitors to attend local churches. In Trinidad there was one church service that was held on Sunday mornings in a movie theater, but there was no popcorn.

Are you ever scared living on the boat in the middle of the ocean? I have been scared driving on the freeway, but not sailing in the Caribbean. There is something magical about being on a boat far away from land, especially at night when there are countless stars above us and phosphorescence below us.

How many people have you met? How many countries have you visited so far? We can't answer these questions accurately because, we have discovered, we are not counters. The best we can do is say "lots". We don't plan on keeping track, because the stories we write and memories we have are more important to us. To tell the truth, we aren't even keeping track of the number of miles we are travelling.

How are you doing out in the wild? So far we have visited very civilized islands so it hasn't been "wild" for us yet. The uninhabited islands we have visited were very close to civilization, but it was a lot of fun being away from people and cars and buildings. Everything we needed to survive was aboard CanKata so we didn't have to worry about going hungry or thirsty.

End of first dispatch to the Grade Fours.

Second dispatch, November 30:

How did you get from Lake Ontario to the Atlantic Ocean? We traveled through the Oswego and Erie Canals and then the Hudson River to New York City, mostly using our engines rather than our sails. Then we traveled down the eastern coast to Cape May and then up Delaware Bay to get into Chesapeake Bay. We did a lot of touring and stayed a long time in Annapolis, so it took us about two months. Then we traveled down to Hampton, Virginia where we joined up with 48 other boats. Then we sailed the Atlantic Ocean all the way to Tortola, British Virgin Islands in the Caribbean, approximately 1500 miles. The last part took us nearly 10 days, and we had some stormy weather, so it was very exciting, but safe and fun.

Do you have a cell phone? No, and we hope to avoid getting one as long as possible. It just doesn't fit into the lifestyle we imagined when we set off on this adventure. It seems that most other cruisers do have cell phones.

Where do you do your email? We have a special system on our boat that uses radio waves rather than cable or wire, so we can use that system anywhere. The boat system isn't as powerful as the internet, so when we go ashore we try to find internet cafes to use our hotmail account. Right now in the San Blas Islands, there are no internet cafes but we expect to find one when we get to Panama City at the end of this month. We use the boat system to exchange text messages with a few key people. We use the internet system to update our web site, and exchange messages and photos with numerous friends.

End of second dispatch to the Grade Four Class.

Curaçao – October 10, 2006

Curaçao is called “the ugly industrial sister of beautiful Bonaire”. It is also a cruise ship stop, so there are lots of shops for tourists. The anchorage that we are in is not industrial, nor are there lots of shops. We are a fairly long bus ride away from Willemstad, the main centre, but fortunately we are a short and free shuttle bus ride away from the chandlery and grocery store. We are filling up our pantry and freezer, preparing for the San Blas Islands where there are no grocery stores and where we will be for a few months.

This is also the place where we will pick up an additional crew member, a former colleague, who will help us with our five-day sail to the San Blas.

We have spent a few glorious nights in this anchorage in Spaanse Water (Spanish Waters) here in Curaçao. This is a very calm lagoon with fairly clean water. There is no loud music coming from shore and there are no mosquitoes, so we’ve had some excellent sleeps that we missed when we were in Bonaire. While calm, the nights have been refreshingly cooler than the hot, sunny days. The daytime temperature runs around 29 degrees, while at night it cools down to 25 Celsius.

We haven’t had any time to play here, but there are some great beaches and snorkeling sites that we will visit when we return in a number of years. While we do have a good view of a phosphate pit, we don’t find Curacao to be ugly at all. She’s quite pretty, in fact, and we look forward to returning. For now, we are nearly ready to set sail for the San Blas Islands and new adventures.

Anchor Light at Sunset – October 13, 2006

When CanKata is at anchor, we seldom use her mast anchor light. Instead, to save power, we have a low-amp anchor light that we hang in the cockpit. The sun sets around 0615 and rises at roughly 0630, over 12 hours of darkness, so the savings are significant. Some boats don’t use any anchor light. In many anchorages, like the one we are currently in, it isn’t needed.

But today, right at sunset, the masts of the boats in Spanish Waters will have anchor lights glowing.

Yesterday, there was a death in the anchorage. One of our fellow-sailors died from a heart attack. According to custom, when we lose a fellow sailor, cruisers turn on their anchor lights at sunset. We didn’t know the man who died, but we will respect the tradition. We will reflect sadly on the loss that his family and friends will feel, and we will give thanks that our family and friends are all well.

San Blas: A Slow Passage – October 17-24, 2006

Before we left on our passage to the San Blas Islands, we received weather information through our SSB radio and were assured that we had a good weather window. It was time to go.

On Tuesday, after a quick swim and a healthy yoghurt breakfast, we started on our way to the San Blas Islands with John, a former colleague who joined us as crew for the passage. A pod of porpoises joined us for a while and put on quite a show. The winds were light so we started one of our engines and Darrel did some careful calculations to ensure we had enough fuel to get us to the San Blas Islands. It was going to be close. Although we were enjoying the calm seas and quiet ride, we thought it would be nice to have a bit more wind. As they say, be careful what you wish for.

We got our wish for wind and on Wednesday morning we shut down the motors. However, the winds quickly clocked and were soon on our nose, and our speed over ground was reduced to 2 knots. By noon, we had one motor back on again. By midnight, the winds were up to 27 knots, still right on our nose, and we were making little headway while experiencing a lumpy, bumpy ride. By Thursday morning, we had both engines running and were crashing into large breaking waves, but at least we were making some headway at 4.5 knots. It was when Darrel calculated our fuel consumption that we decided to “heave-to”.

We were not certain that catamarans could effectively heave-to, but on that rough and woolly day we gave it our best effort. We back-winded the partially furled genoa to starboard and turned the helm hard to port. It was a magical moment. The pounding stopped, the rocking softened, and it became incredibly quiet aboard CanKata. We all sighed, put another reef in the main sail, and then switched the pantry from the port aft berth to the front berth. I had made the mistake of trusting the weather predictions and had convinced Darrel that we could sleep in our usual front berth for the passage. The noisy, banging waves on Wednesday that kept disturbing our sleep proved that it was a bad idea, even for our blue-water Privilege, so, with John’s help, Darrel and I moved our sleeping quarters to what had become traditionally known as the pantry. It was a relief.

We were hypnotized by the calmness and lulled into staying hove-to for seventeen hours – until 0900 on the Friday morning. The strong winds and current had pushed us back 25 miles, and now we had a lot of ground to make up. By this time, the seas had calmed considerably, but the winds were still not in our favour. For the next couple of days, we switched between sailing and motor-sailing, tacking this way and that trying to get the most out of the wind, not making much headway but at least sleeping and eating better.

As we made our way westward, Darrel constantly monitored the fuel consumption. On Saturday afternoon, it still looked like we could make the San Blas Islands by Tuesday with a bit of fuel to spare, as long as we got at least 50 miles of sailing in. The winds finally clocked to the right direction on Saturday night, but were a measly 5 knots. We continued to motor-sail.

For the next few days we kept busy trying different sail configurations to make the most of the very light winds. On Sunday, the wind was at our back so we sailed “wing and wing” without motoring, but were still making just over two knots.

The winds were still light the next day, so while we were sailing we were able to jump in for a swim and hang onto a tow line, one at a time. And we were catching lots of fish and eating well.

Finally, by Tuesday morning, we reached the San Blas Islands. It had taken us one full week. Seven days. 170 hours to go 540 nautical miles. Average speed: 3.17 knots. It was our slowest passage ever, but all and all it wasn’t too bad – we had arrived safe and sound.

Clean Boat – October 26, 2006

We finally have a clean boat. The dirt and grime from Trinidad and Bonaire has been flushed off CanKata. She got a great salt bath during our seven-day journey from Aruba to the San Blas Islands of Panama, and then we were greeted by a huge downpour of rain upon our arrival. CanKata’s topside is squeaky clean. I had to do a bit of scrubbing and oiling of the teak, but everything else was taken care of by nature. What a treat!

Home Delivery – October 2006

The Kuna Indians of the San Blas Islands are a friendly and gentle people. And industrious. At least once a day, we hear a quiet “hola” (hello) and find a dugout canoe at our transom. Most often it is a woman and her children wanting to sell us their famous “molas” or beadwork, and sometimes it is the fishermen of the village selling us crab or lobster, or it is the coconut caretaker with a “coco” for us. From time to time there is fruit and vegetables, and once Darrel bought a huge bunch of green bananas for just fifty cents. Always, the prices are reasonable and never do we have a pressure salesman (unlike the boat boys of the eastern Caribbean).

While we have enjoyed all the edibles, it is the molas that have taken the biggest chunk of our budget. They are colorful, intricately designed and sewn panels (reverse appliqué) that can be used for cushions, purses, blouses, wall hangings, and whatever else the creative cruiser can think of. Ours will be given away as gifts.

Burning Garbage – October 2006

The day before Halloween, we had a huge bonfire. We didn’t roast corn-on-the-cob, but we did burn all our plastic and paper.

We had heard that there was an island in the Eastern Holandes Cays, San Blas, called “Pot Luck Island”, so we decided to visit it. Sure enough, on Mondays there is a 4:30 pot luck for cruisers (finger foods only) that also features a garbage burn. The one we attended was managed by an engineer who assured us that there would be no residue left from the burning plastic. “It releases toxins into the air, so I wouldn’t stand near the smoke”, he cautioned us. His young daughters, with machetes in hand, were chopping us some palm fronds, and other cruisers were scouting around for driftwood. “You get a great flash from the palms, but it’s the driftwood that gives you the best burn”, we were informed.

While we enjoyed some sweet rolls, olives, popcorn, my sardine pâté, and birthday cake, we were thrilled to see our bag of plastic, which we had been accumulating for a number of weeks, go up in smoke. We try to avoid bringing plastic onto CanKata, but it seems to be mission impossible. For instance, meat always comes wrapped in plastic.

We first declared plastic as our enemy when we saw tons of it floating in the waters around Trinidad. Here in the San Blas Islands, the Kuna Indians haven’t had much exposure to plastic, and still think they can dispose of it the way they dispose of all their other garbage – by throwing it into the sea. The sea can handle just about anything – aluminum, tin, paper, glass – but not plastic. We had planned to hold onto ours until we reached Panama City, where we hoped there would be a proper disposal system.

So it was a relief to be able to get rid of it ourselves, knowing it wouldn’t be tossed into the sea to float for countless years.

We didn’t roast any marshmallows over the burning plastic, but it was still fun to stand under the palm trees and watch the glowing embers while the sun set over the beautiful Caribbean waters.

When you are at the News Stand

When you are next at a news stand, you might want to check out the Nov/Dec and Jan/Feb issues of Multihulls Magazine. We are supposed to have stories in each edition. They also have a website www.multihullsmag.com that provides a highlight of the contents.

Benezuela

By Darrel

Having studied three different languages, four if I include Morse code, and according to some not fluent in any, I feel that I am appropriately qualified to write this article. For those of you who have studied Spanish, you may want to skip this article. For the rest of you, consider this your first lesson to a wonderful language.

The other day we had a visitor aboard CanKata, a young female cruiser, whose mate was away for a short period of time. Paola comes from Columbia and therefore speaks Spanish. Fortunately she is also quite good in English. Loretta and I took this opportunity to try to expand (or in my case triple) our understanding of Spanish. During our discussions which flowed back and forth from Englanish to Spenglish I was reminded of something that we had learned during one of our very first Spanish courses back in Ottawa. In Spanish, the letters B and V are pronounce exactly the same, for example Venezuela is actually pronounced as Benezuela. I often become intrigued by rules of confusion so I asked Paola how does this work, in other words how do you know if a word is spelled with a B or a V when you hear it for the first time. She explained that when you are a young student, two of the first words that you learn along with the ABCs are Burro (which is a donkey) and Vaca (which is a cow). Remember that Vaca is pronounced as Baca. To spell a word, you would then say B as in Burro or B as in Vaca (pronounced as Baca), depending on which of the two letters you want to demonstrate. So to say and spell the words Bacon (pronounced Bacon) and Vertical (pronounced Bertical) you would spell bacon as B as in Burro, a, c, o, n, and vertical as B as in Vaca, e, r, t, i, c, a, l.

The next day I was still intrigued by this rule of confusion so I asked Loretta who is a Ham operator and therefore knows the Phonetic Alphabet, “knowing that when spelling a word with a B you use the word Bravo, and when spelling a word with V you use the word Victor, how would this be dealt with by a Spanish speaking Ham?”

Bery interesting eh!

Paradise

By Darrel

When I was at university I had to write an essay on Utopia. I wish I knew then what I know now.

Imagine three remote islands clumped in close proximity, where there is no one around for miles and their sandy-beaches are surrounded by warm, clear, turquoise water which is teeming with fish and colourful coral. You anchor in the middle of the three islands where the water is calm yet you still are exposed to the gentle trade winds which are necessary for Genny to generate wind power. Okay, I admit it; you may have to wear ear plugs to eliminate the whir of Genny. During the day you are visited by natives from afar who have traveled out to see you in their dug-out canoes; the first to sell you two humungous crabs, and the second to sell you fresh fruit and vegetables. No other unwanted visitors, leaving you to your own paradise and to live, swim, play djembe drums, sing (or yelp) and dress, or undress, the way you want to. The only sound and movement you detect is the pelicans diving the nearby waters to catch their prey, fish and rays jumping out of the water, and the odd coconut being overtaken by the forces of gravity and making a thump sound as it meets the sandy terrain below. The air and water temperature are the same, at a constant 30 C. The sky is clear during the day, providing power for your photovoltaic panels, and into the early evening enabling you to gaze the heavens above and ensure all the stars and constellations are properly aligned. After you call it a day and are tucked away in bed with your mate and a good book there is a gently rainfall which fills your rain-collection buckets for washing and rinsing the following day. Loretta and I found this piece of paradise in the San Blas.

Jaws 23

By Darrel

Ever since Loretta and I started snorkelling in oceans I have tried to prepare myself for the eventuality of meeting up with a shark. I knew it was inevitable and just a matter of time so I wanted to be ready for this encounter and not panic when it happened. We have already seen a couple of small nurse sharks but they were dormant and just resting on the bottom about 20 feet below. Well the other day Loretta and I were out hunting for dinner with our pole spears and we had each gone our own way – mainly to avoid the possibility of accidentally spearing each other. I had combed the reef wall which was about 14 feet deep and had noticed a number of large Parrot fish up on top of the coral reef swimming through the many valleys and channels that formed at the top of the reef. It was quite spectacular and was similar to swimming through a maze of valleys which were about 12 feet wide and 4 feet deep. The water at this point was only about two feet above the top of the reef so it was essential to stay in the valleys. I was keeping track of where I was in relation to the exits and decided to go down a short valley which was a dead end, but full of fish. Just after getting into this dead-end valley I turned around and saw three very large Black Jacks slowly swimming along the valley from which my valley opened into. Immediately behind the three Jacks was a 6 foot Reef Shark slowly swimming with a sideways swaying motion. I don’t think I really noticed how a shark swam until I had one about 10 feet away from me. This group reminded me of a small gang sauntering down the street, the little thugs with the big mouths out front and the big tough guy immediately behind to offer protection. Being in the dead-end valley, I was ready to make sure the shark noticed me before he decided to head down “my” valley, but luckily for me he had no interest in coming in my direction so I could just stay put and watch this beautiful but somewhat scary beast slowly swim by. My adrenalin was running but I remained calm and collected thanks to having prepared myself for this encounter. I hope that, by having this one behind me, it will make the next one even a little bit easier, but I doubt it.

You Might Always Get What You Want – November 2006

By Loretta

We are currently in the remote San Blas Islands, so there are no grocery stores in the vicinity. Cruisers come well stocked with provisions bought in Curacao or Cartagena or Panama City or any other shopping centre along their route to here.

But sometimes, we run out of things. Or, we realize that we haven’t bought an item that is essential for our favourite recipe. For example, the other afternoon we had visitors from the only other boat in our anchorage, and the missus, Bev, was watching me prepare the mini pizzas that I was serving for a snack.

“Oh – you have black olives”, she said with a jealous note.

“Do you need some?” I asked.

“I’m dying for some”, she sighed. “I couldn’t find any in Cartagena”.

“No problema”, I said in Spanish as I loaded up a little jar for her.

“Is there anything you need?” she asked.

“Well, as a matter of fact, I just ran out of curry powder”, I complained.

“I have plenty. I’ll bring you some tomorrow”, she offered.

Not only did I get curry powder, but Bev also shared some fresh basil and a good supply of limes she picked up during her recent trip to Cartagena.

The next day, we were “hunting” (which is fishing with pole spears) with the same friends, and all managed to catch something.

Bev called me on the radio. “You wouldn’t happen to have any Old Bay aboard would you?” I only just learned of this tasty spice mixture for seafood since becoming a cruiser, and had two jars aboard. I negotiated a trade, and ended up with a little pack of roasted sesame seeds.

Both Bev and I were lamenting that we had very little fresh fruits and vegetables left. She was a bit better off, having just visited Cartagena, but I was out of everything but garlic. No onions, no tomatoes, no bananas … virtually nothing in the “fresh” category. We were suffering through canned peaches and canned green beans. The very next day, almost as if they had been eavesdropping, four Kuna men in a small merchant boat pulled up to us offering “frutas y legumbres” (fruits and vegetables). For $20 I loaded up my fruit and vegetable hammocks: onions, tomatoes, bananas, melons, cucumber, carrots, lettuce, oranges, apples, and even some potato chips. The only two items on my list that I couldn’t get were avocados and mangos. Ah – the thrill of a fresh salad after a week of canned vegetables.

The other day, we were back “hunting” but we were skunked. Actually, Darrel did catch one small “squirrel” fish but it certainly wasn’t enough for a meal. Just as we got back to a boat, a Kuna canoe pulled up with lobsters for sale. We bought three for $7. We gave them a “regalo” (gift) of a nice-sized coil of rope, and they reciprocated with a huge crab. We really feasted that night.

I ran out of oats yesterday, but I’ve got some corned beef to spare. I guess I’d better give Bev a call.

Blame It on the Rain – November 2006

By Loretta

One Sunday morning, Darrel and I selected the reef we were going to hunt at and then waited for the Kuna fishermen to finish their morning work before we headed out into their territory. It was about 10:00 and calm after a stormy night. Lots of rain had fallen, and I happily tossed our laundry into the buckets of fresh water that we had caught off our canopy. Once I had the laundry soaking and once we saw the Kunas heading back to their island, Darrel and I hopped into the dinghy with our pole spears and snorkel gear and headed to a reef.

It looked like it was going to be good hunting. Previously, our luck had been good on this particular reef and we expected the same on this day. We stayed closed to our anchored dinghy so that we could quickly flip our catches into it before some bigger, hungrier fish decided to make our catch their meal of the day. We went off in different directions, feeling pretty confident about getting something for supper.

All of a sudden, I saw an underwater cloud coming towards me, from the south, from the mainland (six miles away from CanKata). I swam in various directions trying to avoid it, but it was huge and it was moving quickly. I soon lost sight of the dinghy and of Darrel and of the reef. I poked my head above water and saw murky water and debris all around me. I could see that I was still close to the dinghy and that Darrel was just beyond it. I quickly swam to him (he couldn’t see me coming so I approached noisily, knowing he was armed), and we agreed that hunting on that particular reef was over. We got back in the dinghy and saw that we were completely surrounded by the cloudy water. Such a change from the usually crystal-clear sea! Then we realized that the storm waters from the mainland must have overflowed the banks of Panama’s Rio Diablo (truly a “devil river” today) and were spilling into the Caribbean. The entire cluster of islands where we were anchored was engulfed in the murky water. No more snorkelling on this particular Sunday.

The next morning, the water seemed to have cleared somewhat, but we were on our way anyway – further north, further from Rio Diablo. We anchored in what is known to cruisers as “the swimming pool”, a calm anchorage nested between four islands and a vast stretch of reef protecting us from rolling seas. One of the four islands is known as “potluck” island where cruisers meet up to share snacks and burn garbage. The water is crystal clear, and we have been learning from the other cruisers where the fishing is best.

“Please don’t fish in the swimming pool”, begged Tom. “The fish here are our pets”. Like trigger fish Bob, who is fed by the cruisers and hovers around the boats. “It’s okay if you fish the reefs”, Tom continued, “but please leave our pets alone. Yesterday I saw a carcase of a trigger fish float by. I hope it wasn’t Bob!”

So we’ll soon hit the reefs. But I think we’ll leave the trigger fish alone.

Jury-Rigging

Jury-Rig: to do something in makeshift manner: to build something in a makeshift way or fit something out, especially a boat, with makeshift equipment. (Thank you Encarta Reference Library)

A good example of jury-rigging: There are no hardware stores in the San Blas Islands. No Canadian Tire. No Wal Mart. So when the rubber bumper on our toilet seat disintegrated, Darrel couldn’t simply dinghy to shore then hop on a bus and ride into town to buy what he needed. What he did was dig out an old white plastic cutting board, cut a strip off it, cut it in half, sand the two pieces into the right shape, and then glue the new little bumpers to the bottom of the toilet seat. Perfect! And he even remembers to put down the seat.

Yahoo Wahoo

By Darrel

The night before we left the San Blas, we were getting CanKata prepped for the 10 hour sail from Porvenir to Portobelo. I was in the process of choosing a lure for my fishing rod and decided on one that I had not used in quite some time, my old white and red plug. In the past I have caught Barracuda with it but then it stopped catching and only went fishing. I told Loretta that I was going to catch a Wahoo tomorrow. Now this may seem a bit strange since first of all I have never caught a Wahoo and as a matter of fact I have never even seen a Wahoo. A fellow cruiser told me when we first started cruising that if you catch a fish that looks like a Barracuda but is missing the very sharp and long teeth, don’t throw it back since it will be a Wahoo which is a highly esteemed food fish. A couple of weeks ago we were invited onboard Gabrielle for a dinner party and they served up Wahoo – it was absolutely delicious. Another local cruiser mentioned on the net one day that he had caught a Wahoo during his last trip from Colon to the San Blas, which was the same route that we were about to embark on. Thus my aspirations to catch a Wahoo.

The next day, about 4 hours into the trip, my old faithful was back to its old trick of fishing and not catching so Loretta decided to put out her line. I knew then that my chances of catching the first fish were now very slim. While Loretta was in the process of letting out her line my rod started to ziiiinnnngggggg which meant I had a fish and a big one at that. Loretta immediately brought in her line so we would not catch two fish, which often happens especially in the case of Doradoes since they often swim in pairs. I started bringing in my line, which is a hundred pound test, and without being able to see the fish I knew it was something big. I hoped that it was not a shark because if it was I knew that I would be bringing it in close to the boat and then cutting my line, thus loosing my old faithful white and red plug. As I was reeling in the fish, Loretta cried out “now that is team work”. At the time I was too busy to respond but I thought it was related to her assisting me with landing the fish. It wasn’t until later that Loretta informed me that her participation in the team catch was due to her lure acting as the teaser and was responsible for attracting the fish. We were currently motorsailing and doing 7.5 knots so I asked Loretta to slow down CanKata; it was taking every bit of strength I had to bring in the fish. Once I got it to within 30 feet of CanKata we were able to see that it was not a shark but something that looked like a huge Barracuda – or was it a Wahoo? As soon as I dragged it close to CanKata I looked into this fish’s mouth to see what kind of teeth it had. Yahoo, its teeth were quite small, albeit still very sharp, so I knew we had caught our first Wahoo. It was a beauty at that, about 40 pounds and just as tasty as our previous experience.

It’s a Privilege – December 2006

CanKata is a Privilege catamaran, built in France. There are few Privileges around – they aren’t a “big production” boat like the Fountaine Pageots, Lagoons, Mantas, Prouts, or Catanas. Only about 100 Privileges are built a year.

So we were amazed to see another Privilege in the Colon anchorage with us. They, too, were heading through the Panama Canal. And when they put out a call looking for line handlers to assist them through the canal, we jumped at the chance. On December 20, we joined Holger, Gloria and their precious 3-year-old daughter Aurora Ulani on their sailing yacht “Dharma Bum” – what a wonderful name – to make their way up 3 locks to Gatun Lake, across the lake the next morning, and then down 3 locks into the Pacific Ocean. Also with us were Helmut (another line handler) and an adviser. Actually, on day two, there were two advisers (one was a trainee). Gloria was kept busy handling lines, attending to Aurora Ulani, and keeping us all watered and fed.

One amazing part of Dharma Bum’s transit was that they were the only boat in the locks on the way down. Fifty-two million gallons of fresh water were used for one small sailing yacht. Now that’s service.

It all went very well and we are hoping for as smooth a transit for CanKata. We’ll tell you all about it in our next update.

All the Best for 2007

What a year 2006 was: we visited 17 different countries and covered more than 2700 nautical miles. We hope you enjoyed reading about our adventures. Our next update will have tales from the Pacific, and will also fill you in on how we spent Christmas in a jungle river.

We wish all our family, friends, former colleagues, fellow cruisers and other readers all the best for 2007. May you never have sand in your mud!

Jungle Christmas

We spent Christmas 2006 in the Rio Chagres, Panama, with our buddy boat Nakiska. There were similarities to a Canadian Christmas – it was calm and bright; there were green and fragrant trees. But there were vast differences – howler monkeys, three-toed sloths, parrots, alligators, and hot, muggy weather.

We went for the traditional meal: Darrel found a 12-pound turkey that fit in our oven (after he compressed the breast bone) and Nakiska helped with the trimmings. We decorated our 12” evergreen tree and played our Christmas music. Both boats – the only two in the river for the event - put up Christmas lights. We sang Christmas carols at the top of our lungs and no one complained. We drank eggnog and had Christmas pudding and talked about all the ways we were going to use the left-over turkey. Santa Claus paid a visit to Nakiska, but missed CanKata … again.

There was no snow, no sleigh bells, no Frosty, but it was a wonderful Christmas nevertheless.

Fixed in the Canal

There are so many meanings to the word “fix”. For example, cruisers spend a lot of time fixing their yachts. If they don’t, they could find themselves in a fix. They also have to take a regular fix of their position; otherwise they could find themselves in a fix. My on-line dictionary has eighteen definitions for fix as a verb and seven for the noun. In this article, I am talking about fix as “a dose of something pleasurable” (e.g. a chocolate fix).

We got a couple of “fixes” lately – a grandchild fix and a son fix.

We went through the Panama Canal as line handlers on S/Y Dharma Bum III. They have a three-year-old daughter, the same age as our granddaughter, and we loved the two days we got to spend with her. We again crossed the canal as line handlers on S/Y Nakiska, and their third line handler was a young lad from Argentina named Gerry who reminded us very much of our son, Dylan. We loved the two days we got to spend with him. So although we are not completely “fixed” (we still greatly miss our son and his family), we certainly enjoyed those pleasurable doses.

Transiting the Canal – December 2006

We were very lucky to have had the experience of transiting the Canal with Dharma Bum III as line handlers. We then knew what to expect when we transited with CanKata … mostly. There was just one little surprise.

The experience started out as it should. Our advisor showed up in Colon at 4:30 p.m. on December 28, as scheduled. We were ready with our four huge lines and protective tires hanging all around our boat. Our three line handlers – Bev and Trevor from Nakiska and Holger of Dharma Bum III had already boarded at 3:00 p.m. Darrel had raised and cleaned the anchor prior to the advisor’s arrival, and we had the engines running. We had paid a small fee to an agent who had got our lines and tires for us, scheduled our transit with the Canal authorities, arranged for the advisor, and made sure we had all the necessary papers. We were all set to go. All we had to do was wait for the freighter “Calanda” to join up with us, since we had been scheduled to go up the locks with her.

We were hampered by a sudden downpour – it was nearly the end of the rainy season but the clouds in Colon still had a lot of moisture to give up. It was warm, so getting wet wasn’t too bothersome, and the rain did stop before we entered the locks.

At 5:30, when the rain stopped, Calanda entered the first lock, and we followed her in. It was an incredibly smooth operation. Darrel was at the helm; Bev, Trevor, Holger and I handled the lines with the four Canal handlers; and Roy the Advisor gently called out instructions to us all. By 7:10 p.m., we were up through all three locks and safely secured in Gatun Lake at the top of Panama. We said farewell to our advisor and then celebrated the end of the first leg with champagne, a fine dinner, scotch on the rocks, djembe drumming, and a very late night. Fellow cruisers on the catamaran “Margot” followed shortly after, and we were the only cruisers in the lake overnight.

The next morning, Advisor No. 2 – Astro - hopped aboard at 6:30 and we leisurely followed Margot for five hours across Gatun Lake to the first lock taking us down to the Pacific side of Panama. This was when we got our little surprise.

CanKata had four line handlers and Margot had four line handlers (making eight in total), but the Canal authorities only had four line handlers available but still wanted us both to lock together. So we had to “nest” together, effectively becoming one unit going through the three locks. It sounded tricky, but our advisor said “no hay problema”. He was right: Captain Darrel and the captain of Margot managed to manoeuvre the two tightly-tied-together catamarans with little difficulty. There was a worrying moment when one of Margot’s lines was fastened to the wrong bollard, but with a great cooperative effort, the boats were held in place safely away from the lock walls. We even found time to wave and throw kisses at the tourists at the Miraflores lock station. This was also the spot where the webcam took our picture, and some of our family got to see us on the internet.

By 2:00 in the afternoon, we were anchored in the Pacific Ocean, at La Playita. Like the fellow said, “No hay problema”. It was problem free, almost pleasant.

Darrel and I transited the Canal three times: once as line handlers for Dharma Bum III, once in CanKata (with help of line handlers from Dharma Bum III and Nakiska), and once as line handlers for Nakiska. Many cruisers do the same thing. Here’s how it works:

A boat needs five people: one helmsman and four line handlers (not counting the one advisor supplied by the Canal – which brings the total to six).

A boat usually has two people aboard, therefore needs three more.

Since most boats only have two people aboard, you need to get three people from two other boats.

Generally, you reciprocate line handling (they handle yours, you handle theirs).

That means you have to handle lines on two other boats besides your own which equals three transits through the canal.

FIRST TRANSIT: on another boat (Dharma Bum III) so you “learn the ropes”, after asking someone (Nakiska) to guard your boat in Colon (Caribbean side). In this instance, Dharma Bum is the only boat in the descending locks – 52 million gallons of water for one sailing yacht. After the two day transit, upon arrival in La Playita (Pacific side), take the bus back to Colon, and then prepare your boat for the transit. Baby-sit Nakiska, who are line handlers for another boat (Pilgrim II who have Gerry aboard. He’s the one who reminds us of our son). Two days later, pick up your three line handlers, start your engines, anchors aweigh, and gingerly pick up advisor from passing pilot boat.

SECOND TRANSIT: on your own boat with three line handlers from two other boats (Dharma Bum III and Nakiska, who have returned from their first transit on Pilgrim II). The advisor decides to raft two boats together (us and Margot) for the descending locks – which proves problem free but worry full.

After transit, upon arrival in La Playita, take the bus back to Colon, after asking someone (Dharma Bum III) to guard your boat. Wait for pickup in Colon marina by other boat (Nakiska).

THIRD TRANSIT: on Nakiska as “experienced” line handlers whom the advisor loves. The advisor therefore decides to raft THREE boats together – which proves problem free but worry full. After transit, upon arrival in La Playita, relax and enjoy the Pacific!

Gabrielle

If you want a great vacation in the San Blas Islands, check out this website:

www.outislandcruising.com

We toured Gabrielle and met the owners/operators: a beautiful boat, wonderful people. And there can’t be many places as wonderful as the San Blas.

Still Surviving – February 2007

By Darrel

When we were landlubbers, one TV show that both Loretta and I enjoyed watching was “Survivor”. Since cruising, we have had a few “Survivor” encounters. For instance, when we were in the British Virgin Islands, we ran into a few “ex-survivors” from one of the earlier Survivor shows that we believe was filmed here in the Los Perlas Islands.

Over two years later, a few days after arriving at Las Perlas, we discovered that Turkey was doing a Survivor show here. This concerned us somewhat since we had been informed by some cruisers who were in Las Perlas at the time of the filming of one of the USA Survivor shows that many cruising areas and islands were “off-limits”. Even a cruise ship was requested to leave the vicinity.

We soon found out that Turkey was not quite as rigid as the USA. We had visitors at the time, and they mentioned to us that they were sitting in a restaurant on Contadora Island and noticed a group of people who all had backpacks and life jackets. We later found out that this was the Turkish Survivor contestants waiting for their transportation to their remote island.

Later that same week we were anchored off the beach at the south end of Contadora in a small out-of-the-way quiet bay when we noticed the locals were constructing some kind of shelter with a frond covered roof. Nearby but out of filming range there was a tent set up with a couple of chairs and a cooler. After dark we noticed a campfire on the beach and some bright lights. The next morning all the Survivor participants could be seen rolled up in blankets sleeping on the beach. They were soon picked up by a motorboat and transported to Chapera and Mogo Mogo, two uninhabited islands a few miles away from Contadora.

Our next trip to land confirmed that what we saw were the Survivors and were also informed that the tribal council, where the participants visit every third day to have one participant voted off the island, was only a few hundred feet from where we were currently anchored. I suggested to Loretta, only in fun, that we should visit the Turkish production people and offer a day sail aboard CanKata as a reward for some of the contestants during the Survivor show.

Over the next couple of weeks, we saw the survivors a number of times either at Contadora where they were disappearing one by one or on the beach at Chapera or Mogo Mogo as we sailed past. While we tried to stay inconspicuous and out of their way, at times they actually acknowledged our presence with friendly waves. We even witnessed a “reward” when one of the teams was treated to a party in a hut at a beach that we were anchored at.

About three weeks into Survivor, when there were only about eight participants remaining, we returned to Contadora to await the arrival of my sister, Dawn and her husband, Rob and were again anchored in the bay near beach. We were entertaining four visitors that we had met on the beach that day when a motorboat approached CanKata with two locals and a foreigner and I immediately guessed why. The female foreigner introduced herself as a Survivor production member and was wondering if we would be interested in taking two survivors aboard CanKata for a luxury day sail reward. We told her we would be interested to discuss it further but that we were picking up two guests the following day and therefore there would be four of us aboard. She quickly informed us that only the Captain would be allowed to stay on board with the survivors and film crew, but they would put the other three up at the Contadora Resort for the day. We weren’t too keen on that idea, but said we would think about it and let them know the following day. Unfortunately we never did manage to meet up again with the production crew, and a local charter yacht was selected for the adventure.

Our last Survivor encounter involved a tour of the Tribal Council set on Isla Contadora. It was a bit of a hike and we weren’t too sure if we would be allowed in, but the crew were very friendly and even let us stand at the voting box. None of us were voted off.

We still like the concept of Survivor, although we are now wondering if it is a gruelling for the survivors as we first thought. One thing we know for sure – it’s tough catching fish!

Catching Fish – February 2007

By Loretta

One great thing about being in Panama is that there are no restrictions on spear fishing. Most of the Caribbean Islands do not allow it. We got our first taste of regular spear fishing in the San Blas, and are continuing to hone our skills in Las Perlas.

It’s not as easy as we hoped it would be. It seems that when we are snorkelling without our spears, there are scads of fish and most of them have “no fear”. As soon as we arm ourselves, the little devils disappear, or at least keep a safe distance away. So we have had to learn to become stealth snorkelers – breathing slowly and quietly through our snorkels, trying to flap our fins soundlessly, remembering not to squeal with delight when we find “the big one”.

But we have met with success. Among our catches include: crab, stingray, grouper, snapper, parrot fish, squirrel fish, jacks, and lobster. We also troll when we are sailing, resulting in meals of tuna, dorado, wahoo, mackerel, and barracuda.

I have also mastered diving for oysters, and we have had many a delicious snack elegantly presented on mother-of-pearl dishes that we can throw overboard when we are finished with them.

So although we have to work hard for our food, we are not going hungry. We are surviving nicely.

Provisioning – March 2007

Soon Darrel and I will be at sea for over three weeks, heading for French Polynesia. In order to ensure we continue to survive nicely, we have had to do some careful provision planning. Since the South Pacific is a very expensive place to shop, we have decided that we will be stocking CanKata with nine months (forty weeks) worth of essential items.

We have spent two days grocery shopping and plan to spend the next two days doing the same thing. Forty weeks is 280 days – that’s a lot of meal planning! We hope that our luck with fishing continues, but in case it doesn’t, we have bought a supply of canned fish and meat. I will grow our own sprouts, and we will supplement that with some canned corn. Pasta and dried potato flakes take up a lot of our pantry space. We have Tang crystals in lemon, orange and pineapple flavours. Powdered milk will be used for our homemade yoghurt. Spices, flour, sugar, cleaning products, personal care products (four toothbrushes each) and boat cleaning products have been checked off the list. On our last day, we will buy stuff for the fridge (cheeses, butter), fresh fruit and vegetables (long lasting ones like carrots, cabbage, apples), and a few dozen eggs that have never been refrigerated, so that we don’t have to put them in the fridge.

Poor CanKata is sitting a little lower in the water with all the extra provisions on board. But we know that as each day goes by and as each meal is consumed, the load will lighten.

This is an exciting part of our adventure – planning and preparing. We are doing our best to ensure that we will have everything we need … there are no corner stores between here and French Polynesia for emergency shopping!

The Dry Season – March 2007

Panama takes its seasons seriously. It rained a lot during the rainy season. Then on December 31, the end of the rainy season, the rain stopped. For the two months of the dry season, January and February, it has not rained a drop. Zero precipitation.

Too bad Canada doesn’t take “summer” as seriously.

This month, the trade winds are supposed to kick in. If the weather follows its usual pattern, we should have the wind at our backs on our way to French Polynesia, first pushing us south past Galapagos, then westward towards the beautiful South Pacific Islands that we are anxious to explore. We have done everything that we can to prepare for this journey, and now have to put our fate in the hands of Mother Nature. We love and respect her dearly, and hope she’s in a good mood for the next little while.

So that’s it for news for a while. We will keep in touch with our son and his family through our SSB radio while we are out at sea, and look forward to our next Internet Café stop in French Polynesia (hopefully by the end of April) to get in touch with the rest of you.

Thirty Days at Sea – March/April 2007

We thought it was going to be thirty days at sea. Turned out to be thirty-six. But it was okay … here’s the story:

Darrel set up a watch schedule that worked well for us, allowing us to get at least six hours sleep at night (I say “at least” because I often napped during my watches) plus a few naps during the day if we needed them. When I napped during my watch, I set the alarm for every 15 minutes to ensure that we were on course and that I knew if we were near another vessel or if there was a storm brewing. The sound of flogging sails wakes me up immediately – a very effective alarm.

The schedule:

L 0800-1000 (D will stand watch if I am still making breakfast, then he’s on to boat maintenance)

D 1000 – 1200 (L busy in galley, does emails)

L 1200 – 1400 (D will stand watch if I am still making lunch)

D 1400 – 1600 (L does dishes, laundry, writing)

L 1600 – 1800 (Snack and play time for both: cards, dominoes, reading, whatever)

D 1800 – 2000 (Ditto, plus bath time)

L 2000 – 2300 (Start of 3-hour watches, D goes to bed; L hits the spits – i.e. eats sunflower seeds to stay awake)

D 2300 – 0200 (D enjoys the thermos of hot chocolate that I have left him)

L 0200 – 0500 (This is the watch where I will usually nap)

D 0500 – 0800 (Last of 3-hour watches, D downloads and analyzes weather files)

WEEK ONE, March 7-14: Our first week of the passage from Panama to Marquesas was excellent, except for the fact that we caught no fish. We did snag a booby but managed to let it go, and then a booby hitched an overnight ride with us. A friend sent us a recipe for booby, but we haven’t caught once since. The winds and seas were favourable, and our fuel consumption was moderate – actually below the allotment for Week One.

Notable log entries for this period:

v “Where is everybody?!” – We went for days and days without seeing another vessel.

v “No fish today.” – This was written too many times. Darrel did see a sail fish on March 10.

v “Darrel fixed leak in galley faucet.” Even 400 miles from shore I can get a plumber.

v “South of the Equator!” – We left the northern hemisphere on March 14.

WEEK TWO, March 14-21: Life goes on as usual. I’m doing laundry and making bread, Darrel is polishing the stainless steel or making brownies, and we’re both wondering where the rest of the world is. We are enjoying calm seas and light winds, but are not making much progress – we are averaging only 90 nautical miles a day, while we were hoping to log at least 125. We’re not worried, though, because we have prepared ourselves well and have all the supplies we need (or at least THINK we will need). We are, however, reaching the last of a few items: bananas, apples, cucumbers, Gouda cheese, and the Maple Buds we got from Dawn and Rob.

Notable log entries for this period:

v “No fish today.” We’re tired of writing this.

v “Bit of rain today.” Evidence that the dry season is over.

v “Soup for lunch.” Our only rocky day so far. All other lunches were much more substantial.

v “Perfect conditions.” The winds moderated and we were making a superb six knots per hour.

v “Going nowhere.” From too much wind to perfect conditions to no wind at all, all in three days.

v “Went for a swim!” It was so calm and so hot, we couldn’t resist. We swam separately, and dragged a long line, just in case.

v “SOG: 2.4 knots.” SOG means speed over ground. We’d rather see 6.5 or more. Might be forty days to the Marquesas.

v “Whale!” We think it was a fin whale, about forty feet long. It stayed port side for about five minutes.

v “Third day for salmon-noodle casserole.” It was a big can of salmon. Still no fresh fish at this time.

v “March 21: Spring. Or is it autumn here?” We are easily confused, but we think we may have missed summer.

WEEK THREE, March 21-28: We are still moving very slowly. One day we were travelling slowly at three knots and yet the log entry says, “Wind dying”. Yikes. At that point, we started one engine, not only for speed but for energy production. Our wind generator isn’t producing, and there is a cloud cover that is stopping our solar panels from doing a good job. Our engine will give our house batteries a charge. We are still doing okay with fuel consumption, as long as we eventually get wind.

On March 23, the wind starts to pick up. On March 24, we finally catch a fish – a small but delicious Dorado. It’s the weekend, so I suntan a little, then make popcorn, and we have Movie Night on CanKata. In a few days, the winds and seas are fairly constant out of the south east, allowing us to average six to seven knots per hour. Yee-haw – finally some good sailing!

Notable log entries for this period:

v “March 26: Directly below Moose Jaw at 105° West.” I email my little sister, Jackie, who lives there, and somehow feel closer.

v “Sword fish!” This lively six-footer bit on my line, bit right through it and swam away with my lure.

WEEK FOUR, March 28 – April 4: We continue to have good winds, and the seas are pushing us gently towards our destination. On the odd occasion, a large wave gives us a good slap, but mostly the ride is pleasant. Sometimes we go a little further south or north than we want to, in order to make the most of the wind, but for the most part we are going west.

Now that we are in our fourth week, we start to make comparisons with other long passages we have had. This one wins, hands down. So far, overall, a great sail! Just a couple of minor technical glitches that Darrel was quick to fix: an o-ring in the head, a loose connection in the auto pilot, a stubborn furler, a couple of temperamental light switches, and a squeaky refrigeration pump.

Notable log entries for this period:

v “March 29: Directly below Airdrie, Alberta at 114° West”. This is where our son and his family live. We faced north and sang the ABCs to our grandkids (our song). We changed the last verse to, “Happy, happy we will be when TOGETHER we sing the ABCs”.

v “Ship passed 1 mile across our bow” – during Darrel’s watch. Only one we saw during a four-week period.

v “April 3 – Changed clocks to Pacific Standard Time” – a nice indicator of distance travelled.

WEEK FIVE, April 4 – April 11: We are a little sad that we actually need a Week Five for this crossing, but we are having a great passage. Weather information (from the files that Darrel downloads through the SSB and from a “weather guru” that we chat to on the SSB) indicates that we have calm weather ahead. A cyclone off of Pitcairn Island is going to suck all our wind from us. The good news is that no “bad” weather is heading our way.

Notable log entries for this period:

v “April 5: Just 686 miles to go”. It was more exciting when we dropped from four digits to three, when we hit 999, but we forgot to mark it in the log book.

v “Storm sail up”. No, we didn’t have a storm, but we needed more cloth up to make the most of the light winds. We gained .2 knots. Oh well.

v “April 6 – Listed to the rock opera Jesus Christ Superstar” - a Good Friday tradition for us.

v “April 6 - SOG 2.0 knots”. The weather forecast was, unfortunately, accurate. Darrel checks our fuel consumption and then gives the good news that we can motor for a while, bringing our SOG to 5.5 knots. Fifteen hours later we are sailing again and back to just 2.5 knots SOG. The speed felt good while it lasted.

v “April 7: Rain”. What a treat. We filled four buckets with runoff from the canopy, so I did laundry the next day. Darrel wiped down the entire boat exterior, so we are now salt free. CanKata is gleaming!

v “April 8 – Happy Easter – SOG 4.0 knots”. What a nice little surprise the Easter Bunny has brought us … some wind. We won’t be winning any race at 4.0 knots, but it is encouraging to see the miles counting down much more quickly. Another Easter treat: a pod of dolphins come to visit and entertain us with their synchronized swimming.

WEEK SIX, April 11-12: Yikes! When planning the passage, we really didn’t think we would hit Week Six, although we knew there was a slim possibility. But we can’t say too often that this is a good passage, with kind seas and wind. It is lovely out here: beautiful pacific-blue water, big clear skies, clean air, and good company. It might be more pleasurable with a barbequed T-bone steak and glass of red wine, but that will come later.

Notable log entries for this period:

v “April 11 – just 100 miles to go”.

THANK GOODNESS WE HAD THE FOLLOWING ON BOARD:

v A water maker - we had only one good downpour during the entire passage

v Spare deck of cards (I lost my king of diamonds to the wind)

v Sunflower seeds (kept me awake through many a long watch)

v Brownie mix – a nice treat after a meal from a can

v Lots of good books to read

THINGS WE DIDN’T REALLY NEED ON BOARD, BUT GLAD WE HAD THEM JUST IN CASE:

v Dental kit

v Strong painkillers

v 5000 litres of cheap boxed wine: we were a dry ship. But these will come in useful in the expensive South Pacific Islands.

MINOR DISAPPOINTMENTS:

v Just one fish

v Not many spectacular sunrises or sunsets, moonrises or moonsets (usually clouds on the horizon)

v We ran out of sunflower seeds

SONGS WE SELECTED TO PLAY FOR THE LAST LEG OF OUR PASSAGE:

v Everyday (it’s a getting closer) by Buddy Holly

v Stand by Me from the soundtrack of the movie

v On the Road Again by Willy Nelson

v Long Way Home by Supertramp

v Closing Time by Leonard Cohen

v Life is a Highway by Tom Cochrane

v Theme from the Canada Winter Games by David Foster

v William Tell Overture – doesn’t really matter by whom

v I Can See for Miles by The Who

v Do Your Thing by Goose Creek Symphony

v The Wanderer by Dion

v Grandma and Grandpa West to Sea by Eileen Quinn (I had tissues handy for this one)

v Drunken Sailor sung by Eileen Quinn (oh do we have plans)

Watch Out

By Darrel

Ever since Loretta and I have been cruising we have kept to a vigilant watch system, day and night. I had read a number of horror stories of sailing yachts run down by ships, some of which did not even know until they arrived at their next port with some canvas and rigging dangling from their bow anchors. With the high speed of some of these new super-freighters you only have approximately 15 minutes from the moment you see them on the horizon to the time where they would reach your position. This is not a lot of time considering you may have to alter your sail plan, e.g. remove preventers, center boom and sheet in the genoa in able you to alter your course. Technically a sailing vessel should not have to alter their course for a ship since vessels under sail have the right-of-way over vessels under motor, but who wants to argue with these floating monsters.

Over the last 10,000 miles we have altered course a few times when we have seen these ships pressing near our comfort zone, but I don’t think we were ever really on a collision course with one. We were just being cautious.

During our passage from Panama to Marquesas, approximately 4100 miles and 3? days, we were surprised at how little traffic we saw once we got away from the Panama shipping lane. In total we only say 3 other ships. One was a research ship just off of the Galapagos, one was a large Japanese fishing boat, and the other was a large freighter. With having seen so little traffic it is tempting to loosen-up on the watch systems and get a little combined time together in the sack. Now get your minds out of the gutter, this would be for sleeping. We know a number of single-handlers who often go for two or three hour naps without scanning the horizon every 15 to 20 minutes so why not.

Three weeks out of Panama, I was on watch from 2300 to 0200 and at 0130 I noticed two white lights off to my port. Sometimes you may see stars or planets just above the horizon thinking they are ship lights until they rise up or drop below the horizon, but these two lights were unmistakably those of a freighter given their intensity and positioning. I grabbed the binoculars to help me determine the course that this ship was on and by seeing a lightly lit green light I knew it was heading in a north-westerly direction. We were heading in a south-westerly direction which meant we could be on a collision course. I turned on the radar and notice the ship was only three miles away and we were definitely converging. I knew the approximate position of the freighter so I made a call on channel 16 of our VHF radio to the freighter in that proximity. To my surprise an English voice came back, sounding a bit surprised to have even received a call. He asked me where I was located. I told him who I was and gave him my coordinates and course. I asked him if he could see me on his radar. He took a moment and then came back saying he could see me with his naked eye (here I thought it was only cruisers who sailed in this attire). He then told me his course and said he would be passing my bow on his starboard side. I watched him carefully on our radar and when he was directly in front of our bow he was just under a mile away which is a safe distance. After he passed our bow I watched him to see how long it took him to disappear below the horizon. The lights of the ship were out of sight within 20 minutes.

Having had this experience and calculating that it would only have taken us about nine minutes to have put us directly in line with this freighters bow we have maintained and will always continue to maintain our vigilant watch system – night and day.

Loud and Clear, CanKata!

One of the more important pieces of equipment aboard CanKata is our single-side-band (SSB) radio. It cost a fair chunk of money – around $5,000 with all the peripherals (in fact, twice that much because we never received the first one we paid for), but we think it was well worth it (once).

The SSB is our link to the rest of the world. When we are on a passage, it is an important link.

For instance, for the first two weeks of our Pacific passage, every morning at 1400 Z (aka UTC or GMT), we joined up with a bunch of other cruisers on the Pan-Pacific Network. A network controller – always a volunteer cruiser on a specific frequency - coordinated conversations between all the other cruisers who are listening into the net.

“Vessels underway … vessels underway … come back now”, instructs the network controller. A number of vessels call in. We have a good strong signal, and we are often the first one acknowledged. “CanKata! – we hear you loud and clear.” That is my prompt to give my position, a summary of the weather conditions in our area, and to let the net know if we need anything or want to talk to anyone. I usually sign off with, “All is well … no traffic … CanKata clear”.

We listen closely to get the position reports of the other vessels travelling in the same direction as us. Darrel plots them on our electronic chart, and we can monitor our relative positions. No one is close enough to hail on the VHF radio, so the SSB is our only means of contact. In case of an emergency, it is nice to have this means of communication.

One of the cruisers reporting into the net is a weather guru. We all stand by while he gives us about ten minutes worth of weather information. Then we can call in with questions. CanKata was actually able to contribute to the weather report because our friend Dawn from Cat Tales has been providing us with El Niño updates that we have been forwarding to the weather guru. For the first few weeks, forecasts were for calm winds in our area. We adjusted our ETA for Marquesas once again.

As the vessels heading to the Marquesas sailed further away from Panama, the radio signals for the network got weaker. Radio waves are funny things – sometimes they skip right over a vessel that is near to you, and sometimes they pick up signals from as far away as Cuba. As we headed further west, we lost contact with the Pan-Pacific net. Four vessels heading to the Marquesas, CanKata being one, decided we would get together at 0000 Z on channel 4036 for an informal net (no controller). We gave it a shot, and the first night we copied each other loud and clear. It is only radio waves that connect us, but that connection feels good … very good. Two of us, CanKata and Dream Weaver, are travelling at about the same speed, and become the best of radio buddies.

One-third of the way to Marquesas, we were able to pick up the Pacific Seafarers’ Net at 0300 Z – a group of ham radio operators who collect information from underway vessels and post it on the web. We were the first vessel to check into the net for this season, so we are first on the roll call. “VA3LME … (my ham call sign), VA3LME … are you ready with your report?” I make sure I am on high power, click my microphone, then give all the information in the exact order that they have requested it: the time of the report, our position, our course direction, speed, wind direction and speed, sea swell direction and height, percentage of cloud cover, barometer (we call it “bar”) reading and the trend up, down or steady over the last three hours. The net controller corrects me one night when I say “twenty percent cloud cover”. “Loretta, do you mean two-zero percent cloud cover?” he asks. “That’s a Roger”, I reply, a little embarrassed but thrilled that he knows my name. I am more than just VA3LME.

We also use the SSB for emailing text messages. It still baffles me that we can send text through radio waves, but we can and we do. We have a limited number of key contacts because the radio takes a lot of power and the service provider only allows us so much time. Our son, two sisters, our banker, an insurance agent, and a few best friends are able to keep in touch with us through my ham operator call sign. We had to become ham operators to be able to use the SSB for free emailing, and to get our licences we had to learn Morse code. So far we have only used it when we hear interference on the radio. “That sounds like Morse code”, Darrel will say. See how useful it is? Regardless, it was well worth the effort to get our licences because the onboard email system is so very valuable. We have been able to find a new insurer (our original one couldn’t insure us past Panama), arrange to wire money to our new insurer, send birthday greetings, get recipes, get El Niño updates from our buddies from Cat Tales (now on land), and even send invitations to people to come visit us aboard CanKata.

Our son, Dylan, has taken on quite a load by offering to help us take care of business, and we are in constant SSB email contact with him. He and his wife, Laura, are very busy with their jobs, two wee ones, and life in general, but still find time to help us out when we need it (e.g. sending away our tax information, renewing radio licences, communicating our web site updates). We would be lost without them and the rest of our email buddies who help us out.

When we crossed the equator on March 14, Darrel and I toasted CanKata and all her systems (including the SSB), and we toasted all our land-based family and friends whom we rely on. We are so appreciative. Cheers!

French Polynesia – April and May 2007

We didn’t get the greatest welcome when we finally went ashore after 36 days at sea. While friendly, the locals were pretty indifferent, and have not taken any sort of measures to provide services to sailors who have been a long time at sea. The check-in point at the village of Atuona on the island of Hiva Oa has very few services: no public transportation (we hitchhiked), a bank where hardly any bank cards work, a post-office that charges way too much for telephone cards and slow internet service, a mediocre restaurant that charges $18 US for a hamburger, fries, a coke, no salad, and no utensils. Everything is outrageously expensive - $15 for a stalk of celery, $5 for a dozen eggs. But baguettes are reasonably priced and delicious, so everyone buys at least a half dozen of them. The locals seem very well off – everyone is well dressed and drives a new 4-wheel drive. We see no sign of tourists or industry. They must have made a killing in the black pearl industry.

The check-in procedure is not very straight-forward, so we spend a few more days than we wanted in the noisy and murky anchorage of Atuona. When we finally checked-in on Saturday, we head to the fuel dock only to find that it has closed until Monday. We are on our last 10 litres, and fuel docks are scarce in the Marquesas, so we must wait until Monday. We party the weekend away with other cruisers. One night, we had visitors on CanKata from Ireland, England, New Zealand, Australia, Germany and Thailand. We serve them baguettes.

On Monday, we finally leave Hiva Oa and head to an island just to the south – Tahuata. It has a spectacular bay called Hanamoenoa that takes our breath away! We spend hours swimming at the beach – being gently pulled out to sea by the surf then gently dumped back ashore. We find coconuts and are glad we put the machete in the dinghy. The sand is soft but hot so we sit in the shade of the palm trees, thankful that there is a breeze to keep away the “no-nos” – the Polynesian version of noseeums. This is one of the nicest bays we have ever been in – and there is no civilization, and only two other boats. It was certainly worth the 36-day trip!

There are other bays around that are nearly as beautiful. The fishing is still lousy, but we are able to go ashore to pick grapefruit, coconuts, limes, lemons, and guava. Others have found bananas and mangos, but we have yet to be so lucky. At one anchorage, we went ashore to find a spectacular waterfall setting where we could bathe in a cool, fresh pool of sparkling mountain water, surrounded by exotic South Pacific greenery. We have forgotten all about the expensive hamburgers and uncooperative ABM machines . . . we are in heaven!

April 20: We finally catch a fish – a massive wahoo that could feed 36 people – or one portion for each day of our passage. We share it with two other boats. It’s absolutely delicious and we hope there are more out there.

April 24: We had a ten-hour sail on Sunday and have anchored at one of the more beautiful islands we have seen - something you'd see in the movies King Kong or Joe and the Volcano. We dinghied around on Monday - incredible coastline - and did some snorkeling. We need a new fish book for these parts so we can identify the new species of fish we are seeing. We're looking forward to doing some land exploring on Tuesday. The little village looks very civilized so I don't think we need to be worried about being boiled in a pot or anything. In fact, last night a bunch of us (2 dozen) were invited to a villager's home for a $12 meal and entertainment -- it was a very special evening with fellow cruisers and locals together.

April 26: We left for the Tuamotus archipelago, and had a rough five days at sea. We both took seasickness medication. I guess “rough” is a relative term – we still managed a movie night and a few games of scrabble, and both of us ate and slept well. We caught a little tunny and ate it raw with soy sauce and wasabi. Mmmm good.

May 1: We arrived at Ahe atoll in the Tuamotus – and spent a few days in the friendly comfort of this lagoon, touring the village and a pearl farm, and visiting with the locals. The snorkelling is spectacular. On Saturday, we headed into the village of Ahe. There, we ran into Hitinui, Peewee, Olivier and Gilbert - four locals who we had met previously on our boat, in Olivier's oyster boat, at Hitinui's pearl farm (where O and PW work), and again on our boat to drink wine, eat popcorn, and practice our French. These are four very interesting and friendly fellows, and we hugged and air-kissed good-bye and said "à la prochaine" (until next time). It was election day in the village (voting for the President of France), and it was bustling with activity. While at the village, Darrel slipped on a slimy boat ramp and hurt his toe.

At 3:00 in the afternoon, we pulled anchor and, along with S/V Dream Weaver, started our passage to the next and last atoll that we will be visiting before heading to Tahiti: Rangiroa - the world's second-largest atoll, so we believe. The overnight passage was superb, with enough winds to maintain a comfortable 4 knots and with gentle waves pushing us forward. There was a beautiful moon rise at about 8:30 p.m., then hours of moonlight guiding us westward. CanKata and Dream Weaver played leap frog until DW decided to start their engines at 4:00 a.m. to make it through the pass into Rangiroa at slack tide. CanKata was making good time and didn't start her engines until 8:00 a.m.

By 10:30 a.m. on Sunday we were through the pass (a bit rough but we had both engines going until the starboard engine warning beeper started going) and anchored safely. Darrel checked the starboard engine room - it was a mess! Oil was splattered all over the place. The dip stick had shot out, along with it much of the oil. It appears that everything is okay, but Darrel has a massive cleaning job ahead of him. We will be nervous about the engine for a while but are hopeful that it was simply a naughty dip stick. Cat Tales had a similar experience.

Darrel’s toe was causing him discomfort, so Loretta applied MediQuik (it helped) and prescribed a couple of aspirins, which also helped. He propped up his foot and the swelling did go down considerably, but it looks like he'll lose his nail (but not his toe).

We had tuna casserole for lunch, with canned tuna since we once again had no luck fishing. It has been hit and miss, mostly miss, with our fishing luck. After lunch, we had a nice long nap in the beautiful calm waters of Rangiroa.

After our naps, we went for a refreshing swim, had our showers on the scoop, and then relaxed on the trampoline while enjoying the scenery from shore. It looks like there is an interesting resort, built Polynesian style, and we hope to investigate in the coming days. There are a few other boats in the anchorage that have been here for a number of days, so we will check with them for "local knowledge".

At 4:30 p.m. we heard CanKata being hailed on the VHF radio. We answered the call and it was S/V Nereida (whom we had never met but pulled into the anchorage just before us) inviting us over for drinks. Dream Weaver was also invited. So we got the opportunity to meet Jeanne, who is a grandmother of three and who is single-handing her 36-foot boat around the world! What an incredible women. She has a website (svnereida.com) in case you are interested. She and her husband bought their boat 10 years ago, then he died a few years later, but she decided to continue with cruising. She is very competent, tiny, beautiful, charming, and completing her circumnavigation in just over one year! She'll be leaving here soon but we hope to get another chance to visit with her before then.

After visiting with Nereida and Dream Weaver, we returned to CanKata and relaxed on the trampoline to cool off and enjoy the lightening in the distance. There was drumming coming from the resort to provide us with additional evening entertainment. We inspected Darrel's toe, ignored the starboard engine room, and then had a long and restful sleep while CanKata sat silently in the calm waters of Rangiroa. As our friends on S/V Cat Tales would say, the hell here never ends.

May 12: There are so many cruising friends around that Loretta figures a “dinghy drift” is in order. We announce the idea on the VHF radio and at 1600 hours, eight dinghies tie themselves together, shut off their motors, dig out their drinks and snacks, then party and socialize while the dinghies slowly drift in the lagoon. We share our stories of how many sharks and eels we saw when snorkeling, who saw the biggest, who dove the deepest, and Loretta shows off a beautiful shell she found. Janet from S/V Blue Stocking keeps it for her granddaughter back in Maine. S/V Trius announces that they have to leave for Tahiti the next day because they are running low on water. All the boats with water makers promise a jerry can from each, and Trius gets to stay a few more days.

Four days and two more dinghy drifts later, CanKata is on her way to Tahiti, agreeing that Rangiroa is the best anchorage we have been in so far.

May 17: We are anchored in Tahiti! While this island does not take our breath away, we are amazed by the beauty of the island just north of us – Moorea – and it is calling to us. We will get some business done while in Tahiti, but it is so very civilized that we can’t wait to get away to Moorea. First – a web site update!

(For an update on our travels in French Polynesia, visit our “Where We’re Headed” page.

REDUNDANCY

By Darrel, June 2007

Anyone who cruises, especially those who break away from the normal runs and popular cruising areas, knows that redundancy is the name of the game. A boat is a complex machine with many interrelating systems and pieces of equipment. It only takes a breakdown of a small part to create a major problem, or inconvenience.

For example, we rely on electronic charts to get us from one point to another and to navigate our route into narrow passes. For those cruisers who just gasped, yes we only use the electronic charts as one tool, we also use coastal navigating techniques to confirm the accuracy of the charts and watch for any new coral heads or hazards which may have formed since the chart was produced. Sorry for digressing, back to using electronic charts. In order for the electronic charts to work, one must have either a chart plotter or a lap top computer, and a global positioning system (GPS) and of course all the necessary cables and power necessary to operate the system. If any of these components fail the system is down and you can no longer navigate with this system. To avoid this, we have on board all the necessary paper charts, a spare GPS and lap top, a number of ways to charge batteries, and extra wiring and soldering equipment to repair cables.

Another essential system is the propulsion system. All modern sailing yachts have redundant means to propel themselves from one point to the next. The primary propulsion system is provided by the sails. We have three sails on Cankata, the mainsail, and two headsails. The second headsail is only a small storm sail, but we have used it when running with the wind for an additional half knot of speed over ground. We also have a back-up head sail in case we blow out our main one. In most cases sails are used after you have left an anchorage and are deployed prior to arriving at the next anchorage. There are a number of reasons for this, such as; you may have to head directly into the wind, the pass may be tricky and not much room to manoeuvre, or the anchorage may be crowded.

The auxiliary propulsion system on sailing vessels is provided by the engine, and in CanKata’s situation we were fortunate enough to have built-in redundancy having two engines. If one engine went down due to failure of one of a multitude of parts such as water pumps, impellers, belts, injectors, hoses, bearings, gaskets, etc. then we could rely on the second engine to get us through those tricky situations. We carry many of the parts that commonly fail and can undertake the necessary repair so we would have two engines for the next entry or exit. Of course this could only happen if the failure is something that can be repaired and with the spare parts on board.

You may have noticed that much of the last paragraph was written in the past tense. During our passage from the Tuamotus to Tahiti our starboard engine started making a very unhealthy clunking noise. After shutting down the engine and doing some investigative techniques, later confirmed by a diesel mechanic, we realized that our number two cylinder is out of commission. It sounds to be a piston rod or bearing, meaning the engine will need to be completely rebuilt or replaced. We have approximately 4000 miles left to reach Australia where we will have this work done. So in the meantime we have to think like a monohuller and instead of having a second engine to rely on while in a tricky situation, we have to have our back-up propulsion system, i.e. sails, ready if our port engine decides to take a breather.

As I said redundancy is the name of the game.

WaterMelanie

By Darrel, June 1007

One day we went on a short hike in Huahine with our buddy boat friends, Dave and Melanie from Talerra. During the hike we came across a watermelon farm. It was a hot sunny day and we all thought how nice it would be to take home a fresh, succulent watermelon. We approached the farmer and asked if we could buy two watermelons, and he obliged. On the way home I remembered a time when I was about six years old and I was walking home from the local corner store with my Grandma Smith. She had just bought a watermelon and was carrying it home to surprise my folks as a treat. As soon as we left the store I asked if I could carry the watermelon home. Grandma Smith refused to let me because she thought I would drop it. I kept up with my offer of assistance and she kept on refusing to let me carry it. As we neared our home, I asked one more time and to my surprise she let me carry it but only after warning me to be careful and not to drop it. I don’t know for sure how far I carried it, but before we arrived at our house the watermelon did slip out of my hands and crashed onto the concrete sidewalk. I can’t remember what happened after that but for sure there was no laughing involved. As Dave and I carried our respective watermelons home I shared this story with the four of us.

As we were neared the location where we had left our dinghy we arrived at a fruit stand. Dave wanted to buy some papayas so he asked Melanie to hold the watermelon while he paid for the newly acquired fruit. Before Dave was able to pay for the fruit Melanie accidentally dropped their watermelon and it crashed to the ground and split in two. There were a lot of similarities between the two incidents, except this time I do remember that there was a lot of laughing involved.

Propaganda

By Darrel

When Loretta and I were searching for and then later fitting up CanKata we attended a number of boat shows each year at Montreal, Toronto and Annapolis. Ever year we seemed to find an innovative gadget, some of which seemed to be of value and others … well not, at least to us. One year, just after we had purchased our new Yamaha outboard engine we came across a booth that was selling a new propeller which we needed as a replacement if and when required. The original propeller was made of aluminium and as can be expected would be susceptible to dings by hitting submerged objects while gunk holing along unsurveyed coastlines. For cruisers this represents a problem since to have a damaged propeller repaired it means you have to have it sent to a propeller shop for repairs and wait for its return.

This innovative propeller, which is manufactured by Piranha Propellers, is made of high density plastic and is made so damaged blades can be easily replaced with new spare blades. After giving it some thought we purchased a propeller and two spare blades. This was about four years ago and since then we have put on many miles in CanKiti and shook hands with numerous underwater objects. The propeller has stood up very well and being made of plastic allows it to flex a bit instead of chopping off a chunk of aluminium.

Unfortunately this week we did hit a coral head and damaged two of the three blades. I dug out the two spare blades from the storage container and removed the damaged propeller from the outboard. I was somewhat apprehensive when it came time to trying to remove the damaged blades from the propeller hub since they have been tightly fastened together for four years and as most other parts on a boat, I expected them to be seized in place. I took a rubber mallet and gave the first blade a firm tap and to my astonishment, out popped the blade. The new one went in just as easy. Needless to say we are really pleased and will order more replacement blades for our next too-close encounter.

See You Later, Trius – June 2007

One of the nicest yet saddest things about cruising is the people you meet; nice because of the enriching experience of getting to know them, sad because you inevitably have to say good-bye.

Lynn and Nicholas on S/V Trius were some of the first people we met after our 36 days at sea. These Aussies are two of the kindest, funniest and smartest “yachties” that we have met. And they are forgiving, too. Normally this wouldn’t be an essential quality, but unfortunately we had misinformed Trius that it was not necessary to get a bond for French Polynesia, and that travel insurance was all that was required. We had been told this by officials in Marquesas, but found out from officials in Tahiti that we actually did need a bond. Trius was with us when we learned that we were wrong, and along with us had to scramble to get a costly agent to take care of our clearance, but laughed it off and let us buy them ice cream (a surprisingly affordable treat in the otherwise expensive French Polynesian islands).

While getting to know Lynn and Nicholas, we shared meals, island explorations, Polynesian dancing, eel watching, dog petting, games, drinks, snorkel and scooter expeditions, jokes, photos, and shells. Nicholas was the first to confirm Darrel’s fears that our starboard engine was kaput. Lynn was a great researcher and guided us to all the hot spots on the islands that we visited together.

And Trius introduced us to David and Melanie on S/V Talerra, our current boating buddies who will be travelling with us all the way to Vanuatu – quite a gift.

In Huahine, we had to part ways with Trius. Work commitments back in Australia require them to be back for August. We don’t plan to be there until November. It was sad to say good-bye, but the nice part is that we will be saying hello again to Trius when we reach Australia. Nicholas and Lynn live close to where we will be cruising (the Gold Coast) and we have firm plans to get together. Lynn keeps hinting that she would love to sail to the north of Australia on CanKata, and we hope that we can make it happen.

We have lost count of the number of boating buddies that we have said good-bye to, friends that we will never see again. Sometimes we are lucky and can say “see you later”. Although we were crying when Trius left us in Huahine, it felt good to say “see you in Australia mates!”

Talerra

Since May 16, we have been buddy boats with Dave and Melanie on S/V Talerra. All our adventures in Tahiti, Moorea, Huahine, Raiatea, Bora Bora and the Cook Islands have been shared with these two wonderful people from the state of Washington (just about Canada). They have written some stories about our adventures, too, and you can read about them at www.w7ytz.net – just click on KE7ABE David and Melanie.

New Page for Tehja and Taylor

Our grandchildren, Tehja and Taylor, are nearly old enough to be interested in the adventures of Grandma and Grandpa Sailor. So, spurred into action by a request from our son, we thought it would be nice to have a page that is especially for them. To keep our web site manageable while adding a new page, we have removed the Cruising Cuisine page, which was fairly inactive.

So this update of our website includes the launch of “For Tehja and Taylor” – a special page for our special grandkids. Enjoy, TnT!

Sensitive Sniffer

We have, on CanKata, a number of noisy alarms that alert us to potential dangers. Examples are: a galley smoke alarm that cries “Fire/Feu, Fire/Feu” every time I burn the toast, a bilge alarm that beeps loudly every time the fridge decides to defrost itself into the bilge, engine alarms that turn our blood to ice (like recently when our starboard engine bit the dust), and the “I smell something” alarm.

The latter is the resulting alarm that I blurt out when I smell something I shouldn’t. “I smell propane!” prompts Darrel to stick his head in the propane locker to ensure all the fittings are secure. “I smell diesel!” is a cry that is followed by Darrel sticking his head into the engine compartment to see what is leaking. “I smell that shirt!” unfailingly leads to more laundry for me. I have a sensitive sniffer and Darrel has grown to trust it.

The other day Darrel and David from S/V Talerra took the dinghy to fill up jerry cans with diesel. They were gone a little longer than expected. When Darrel finally got back to CanKata, I leaned into him and accusingly declared, “I smell ice cream”. Darrel and Dave looked guiltily at each other and Dave moaned, “I guess the beer didn’t mask the smell”. Actually, I couldn’t smell anything, but had spied the ice cream stick that Darrel had carelessly left on the floor of our dinghy.

It is pretty much a sacred custom on CanKata and Talerra that we partake in ice cream ashore as a foursome. I told Darrel that I forgave him, but it was not a coincidence that three times during the middle of that night I smelled diesel, propane, and electrical wiring burning, and sent Darrel scrambling each time to see the cause. And the next day I didn’t let Darrel know that I could smell his shirt. But who cared … we were on our way into town for ice cream.

Unusual Moon Rise

It was 0300 hours on July 10, and I was on watch. We were underway from Bora Bora to Rarotonga, a five-day passage. I was checking the horizon for lights, when I spied the mast light of our buddy boat Talerra behind us to the east. I also noticed a glow on the horizon, and knew that the crescent moon was about to rise. What I didn’t know was that I was about to witness the wackiest moon rise that I have ever seen in my life.

There is something strange about the orientation of the moon down here in the southern part of the globe. When the crescent moon rises, it looks like a silly grin. Others might say it looks like a bull’s horn. With that orientation, it means that two points of the crescent have to rise above the horizon nearly simultaneously. So, as I watched, one little pointed blob of orange light came up over the horizon, then a second or two later, another little pointed blob of orange light came up over the horizon, then slowly the whole smile came beaming up into the night sky. It was fascinating to watch, and fun to be heading west to Rarotonga with the smiling moon cheering us on.

Shelf Life

Shopping for groceries isn’t always easy for cruisers, especially when we have to provision for long passages. When we provisioned in Panama for our South Pacific passage, we bought months worth of stuff, knowing that the prices in the islands were going to be steep.

For most of us, provisioning is a game of “how to”: how to get into town, how to get all our groceries back to our dinghies, how to fit all our groceries in the dinghies, how to get back to the boat without getting all the groceries wet, how to find room for all the groceries in our already over-packed boats, and how to ensure we eat all our provisions before their expiry date.

The last “how to” is especially tricky when some of the items we have bought have already outlived their shelf life even before getting on the boat. (I know, I know – I need to be more diligent when shopping). Some items seem to live forever, like Cadbury’s Cocoa, Kraft Barbecue Sauce, and, surprisingly, Old El Paso Flour Tortillas. Some items aren’t telling, like Herrera’s Vanilla Essence bottled in Trinidad. For many items, like peanut butter, ketchup, and canned food, we use my sensitive sniffer alarm: if it smells good, it must be okay, whether it is expired or not.

Greek Olives have a nice long shelf life. They are one of our favourite snacks, so we stocked up in Panama. Still, given that we like them so much, we ran out halfway through the French Polynesian islands. No worry – there are plenty of “olives noires a la grecque aux herbes” in French Polynesia. So we bought a big jar of them in the Tuamotus. When it came time to crack open the jar, I noticed that the expiry date was about a year ago. They looked fine. We smelled them. They smelled like olive oil and herbs. We tasted them. They tasted like olives marinated in tasty herbs. But they left a bit of a scum on our teeth, so we threw the whole jar out.

Before leaving Bora Bora, we decided to give the Greek Olives another shot. We found some with an expiry date of 6/7/08 – perfect. We smelled them. The smelled like olive oil and herbs. We tasted them. They tasted like olives marinated in tasty herbs. But they left a bit of a scum on our teeth. Perhaps they always have. We enjoyed every last one of them.

Med Mooring

Our next stop after Bora Bora was Rarotonga, part of the Cook Islands. We arrived July 14, 2007. Our guide book says, “The harbour is overcrowded and it’s wise to do exactly what the harbourmaster asks”. He wasn’t there when we got there. The mooring is “Mediterranean style” and can be a little tricky, especially if you are a catamaran with only one of two engines operating, like CanKata*. Wind, current, other moored boats and absent harbourmasters can present additional challenges.

Here is how you moor med style:

v Start backing into the harbour wall.

v Drop your anchor about 100 feet out.

v As you get closer to the wall, throw two stern lines to friendly boaters who have come running to help you. In our case, David and Melanie from Talerra were waiting in their dinghy to help us. It’s sometimes good to be last to arrive.

v Do not back into other boats that are already med moored. (We were pretty lucky in that there was a lot of room for us, but boats arriving after us didn’t have the same luxury.)

v Realize that you have anchored too far out, retrieve your lines, and start all over again. Cursing and yelling is allowed.

v Once you have re-anchored and re-thrown your stern lines, continue backing up until you are about 25 feet from the harbour wall.

v Do not back into other boats that are already med moored.

v Back down on your anchor to ensure it is well set.

v Secure the two stern lines to the harbour wall.

v Secure bow lines to anything that you can secure them to: e.g., another boat beside you or a mooring ball. There was a mooring ball beside us.

v Wipe the sweat off your brow. Apologize to mate for losing temper. Apologize to boaters in the vicinity for the blue language.

v Have Happy Hour (the final step in all mooring or anchoring procedures).

A funny thing about med mooring: you are too far from the harbour wall to jump ashore, but you are too close to warrant using a dinghy motor. So everyone launches their dinghy and uses the stern lines to pull themselves to shore and back.

The nice thing about med mooring: an easy exit. All we needed was someone to help by casting off our lines from shore, then we lifted anchor and were on our way, looking for an anchorage where we wouldn’t have to med moor.

(*Actually, in this instance, we were able to use our starboard engine. The mechanic who had pronounced it “dead” did say that in a pinch, we could use it briefly at low throttle. When we were med mooring, we needed it, then had to apologise to the boats in the vicinity for all the greasy black smoke we spewed out).

Grand Canyon

While in Rarotonga, we took a ride on a crowded bus and I sat beside a man and his young son. We chatted a bit and I learned that they were from California and were enjoying an escape from the heat of LA. The young boy, who I figured was about five years old, was wearing a “Grand Canyon” baseball cap.

“Have you been to the Grand Canyon”, I asked.

“Um, nope”, he tentatively answered.

His dad nudged him and whispered something to him.

“Oh, yup, I have been to the Grand Canyon!” he announced.

“And did you like it”, I hoped he would remember.

“No, I threw up”, was his response.

“Oh my”, I said sympathetically, “I hope you haven’t thrown up here”.

“Nope. But I’ve had diarrhea!”

His dad just smiled.

Hike up the Needle – July 2007

Rarotonga is fairly small – just 31 km in circumference. The highest point is a peak called Te Rua Manga, otherwise known as “The Needle” – 413 meters high. We decided to pay it a visit, along with our boating buddies from Adio, Salena and Talerra.

For the first time in quite some time, we donned socks, sneakers, and rain jackets. The upward climb was steep, forested and muddy, but we managed it very well.

The view from the Needle was amazing. Darrel and our friend Michel hiked a little further than the rest of us, having to use a chain to clamber up a few more yards, and enjoyed an even more amazing view, but unfortunately had left the cameras with the rest of us.

The hike down, which leads through the island’s interior rainforest to the other side of the island, was a little more slippery, but much more scenic. It follows a stream and passes through patches of giant ferns and overhanging vines. A couple of us ended the hike with very muddy bums.

There were some picnic tables at the end, so we all stopped for a picnic before catching the bus back to the harbour. There were plenty of mosquitoes joining us for lunch, so we sprayed ourselves well, always mindful of the possibility of being infected with dengue fever. The only mishap (other than muddy bottoms) during the whole hike was Darrel hitting his head on an overhanging branch and losing his sunglasses. Some young hikers behind us eventually caught up with us and greeted us with, “Did anyone lose a pair of sunglasses?” Lucky Darrel.

More Rehearsals

While in Rarotonga, we rented motorbikes for one day and discovered that the east side of the island gets a lot of rain! We biked around the island twice, once on the lower road and once on the higher road, and learned that this island is heavy into agriculture. We stopped at a little restaurant to get out of the rain and have some hot chocolate. The lady who served us said, “Come back for lunch – we have the best burgers on the island”. So we did just that – circled the island and returned just in time for lunch and the best burgers on the island.

We also did a lot of touring on foot. While we don’t see as much when we are on foot, we do have a chance to discover more treasures. While taking a shortcut, we came upon the island’s Cultural Centre. It consists of a museum, a large hall, and a number of smaller halls. We noticed at one hall there were a number of women making costumes, so we stopped to chat. They were preparing for their upcoming festival. While French Polynesia’s festival ends on July 14, the Cook Islands’ culminates at the beginning of August (this was July 15). We learned from the costume-makers that on most evenings at 7:00, there were rehearsals taking place at one hall or another, and we would be more than welcome to watch. There were fifteen smaller halls – one for each of the Cook Islands.

What a treat. For three of the evenings that we were in Rarotonga, we walked to the Cultural Centre and got a huge taste of Cook Island culture. The theme of this year’s festival was the arrival of Christianity, and the dancing incorporated moves that mimicked digging, hammering, and other church-building activities, and chasing off wives number 2, 3 and 4. The men had important roles in the production, and their dancing was amazing. At this time of year, evenings in Rarotonga are cool, but at the end of the rehearsals, the men were dripping in sweat.

One day, while at the cash machine getting cash just because we could (see next story), we met up with two young women that we had met before at a pearl store. We mentioned that we had seen the dancing and that we were so impressed with the number of Polynesians that can dance and sing so well. Our friend Dave joked, “White men can’t dance”. The two young Rarotongans giggled and admitted that there are many times, when watching tourists dancing at the clubs, that they think exactly the same thing.

This reminds me of a baseball game that Darrel and I went to in Ottawa after spending many months in the Caribbean. Like Polynesians, the Caribbean people have music in their souls. If music is playing, their bodies are swaying. Everyone – from Custom Agents to gas attendants – sings along to the songs that are playing on the radio or some other sound system and boogie to the beat. So at the baseball game, with reggae-type music blaring from the stadium speakers, I expected to see people boogieing.

Nope. Not a one. Everyone was sitting back with their arms across their chest, yelling insults at the umpire and the visiting team, all but for the goofy mascot who was trying his darndest to get a reaction from the crowd. It is true – can’t white man dance?

I don’t believe it for a minute. Unlike Catholics, who believe that we are born with original sin on our souls, I think we are born with music in our souls. Somehow it gets buried as we get older, but I think it is still there. Maybe we need some kind of baptismal ceremony to bring it alive again.

So let’s prove Dave and our young Rarotongan women wrong. Let’s dance. Right now, turn up the radio or put on your favourite CD and dance! Tap your feet, smile, quit yelling at the ump, have some fun. Let’s show them that white man can dance.

Card Games

This story isn’t about Poker or Kaiser or Bridge. It is about purchasing power. And today, without cards, we have little purchasing power. Debit cards and credit cards … don’t leave home without them. Sometimes, even armed with both types of cards, we can have limited purchasing power.

Take, for example, CanKata’s experience in the South Pacific. For three months in French Polynesia, we were unable to use our debit card to get cash. We emailed our bank at Scotiabank in Ottawa, and they advised us to use the Carte Bleu machines. “There are eleven [Carte Bleu] machines in the area”, they told us. We’re pretty sure we tried every one of them. In fact, we’re pretty sure we tried every bank machine in French Polynesia. Not a one of them would give us any money. Zero dollars. Hard to buy a baguette with a credit card. “Minimum $25 purchase”, was the standard line. We didn’t want that many baguettes.

Between traveller’s cheques (that are quite difficult and expensive to cash, as it turns out), friends, and purchases of over $25, we were able to get everything we needed. It wasn’t always convenient, but, heck, we are sailors and are quite accustomed to adversity.

You can image how thrilled we were when we got to the Cook Islands and were able to get cash from a machine. Not only did we get cash, but the machine was somehow associated with Scotiabank and we didn’t have to pay the usual $5 fee. We got more cash the next day – not because we needed it, but just because we could.

But then we decided we would use our Visa card for some larger expenses – e.g. motorbike rental. “I’m sorry, the transaction is not accepted”, informed the rental guy. We thought maybe it was his machine, and paid cash. We tried our credit card again to buy a couple of engraved mother-of-pearl necklaces. No luck. We tried it again for groceries (over $25). No luck. We went into the bank that was affiliated with Scotiabank, but they were unable to help us. They made a couple of phone calls that proved to be a dead end. “We don’t know why the transactions won’t go through. You’ll have to get in touch with your bank”.

We tried to use the phone booth to use the emergency number on the back of our card – “call collect” it says. The Cook Island telephone company won’t allow collect calls. “Please provide your visa number”, they said. So we did. “Transaction not accepted”, they said. So we told them our story. “You’ll have to call your bank”, they said. But, or course, we couldn’t without our Visa card.

It was Friday afternoon in Rarotonga, which meant that our bank in Ottawa would be closed. We sent them an email anyway. By Monday morning we heard from them, and the mystery was solved. Our expiry date is 02 08. The Cook Island banking system was reading it as 08 02. We thought that banking was a more sophisticated system than it is.

So it seems that now we have both our cards working. We’re wondering what sort of purchasing power we’ll have in our next stop – Tonga.

International Date Line

CanKata has lost one whole day. August 4, 2007 never existed for us. On our passage from Niue to Tonga, we crossed the International Date Line and had to change our clocks 24 hours, which means that we didn’t have to change our clocks at all but lost a whole day on the calendar. We went from August 3 to August 5 just like that – poof – weirder than the Bermuda Triangle.

Technical explanation that most of you won’t want to read: The International Date Line is an irregular line drawn on the map of the Pacific Ocean mostly on the 180th meridian that marks the place where navigators change their date by one day on a Pacific crossing. As CanKata circles the globe in a westward direction, she lengthens her day by 1 hour for every 15° of longitude traveled because she is following the apparent motion of the sun. Close to the 180th meridian, nearly in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, a place chosen because of the virtual absence of land and of civilization in the region, navigators going westward add a day to their calendars, and navigators going eastward drop a day from their calendars (for example, the day after August 3 would be August 3) to correct for this gain or loss of time. The date line is jogged to avoid crossing land. So while Tonga is not quite at 180, it is on the west side of the date line.

So on August 3, CanKata was four hours behind Calgary’s time – noon in Calgary was 8:00 a.m. the same day on CanKata. Now she is twenty hours AHEAD of Calgary’s time – noon in Calgary is 8:00 a.m. on CanKata but the NEXT DAY. Freaky. I’m sure I have a full day’s worth of extra grey hair as a result.

Pretty soon, when we actually do cross the 180th meridian, we will be heading TOWARD the Caribbean, and not away from it. We will no longer be in the west, but will be in the east. But that’s another story.

Can You Tell Us Where the Post Office is? – August 2007

We arrived in Tonga on August 5 (which was really August 4 but the previous story explains all that) and were delighted to find a nice harbour with lots of services, safe mooring balls in calm waters, lots of places on shore to land our dinghy, and very many friendly people, for the most part.

Each time we visit a new island, we try to buy a postage stamp or two as a souvenir. For Tonga, we had a street map for the village that we were visiting – Neiafu – but were still having trouble finding the post office building (which was set quite far back from the street), so we asked a few locals for help.

“Can you tell us where the Post Office is”, we asked one elderly lady who was sitting at a taxi stand.

“No”, she answered with a big smile on her face, then turned away to avoid further questioning.

We walked a little further along and met up with a young lady in a school uniform.

“Can you tell us where the Post Office is”, we politely enquired.

She paused for a moment, then firmly declared, “No”, then continued walking to avoid further questioning.

Luckily, the next lady we passed was much friendlier and nearly walked us right to the building.

We had a similar experience when trying to find the Crow’s Nest bakery. After hearing “No” from three locals, we tried a white man. “I only just arrived here myself”, he laughed, “but I did see a sign a few feet back that gives directions”. So it was another tourist who showed us the way.

We were a bit perturbed about the blunt “No” answer that we were getting from the locals, so asked Ben, the American owner of a nice little restaurant called “Aquarium” why were getting such a rude response. Ben laughed and said that it wasn’t rudeness, and it could actually be worse: the answer could have been “Yes” but with no follow up. His explanation: a language problem. Some Tongans don’t speak English, or have trouble with our accents. Their pat answer to questions they don’t understand is either “No” or “Yes”, followed by a smile or a frown and a disappearing act.

Those were the only two incidences where we faced a language gap. Everyone else we met in Tonga, although maybe not as exuberant as Polynesians we have met to date, was friendly and helpful. Lofi, a local entrepreneur, made sure we got some decently-priced lobster, bananas, limes, and even had his daughter sew us a couple of flags. Another local, who was busy getting her shop ready for its grand opening a few weeks away, opened her doors early for us so that I could buy a couple of sarong outfits that she had hanging in her window. Another local picked us up when we were hiking back from a remote restaurant and offered to go out of his way to get us back to our boats. The children were the friendliest. In one village that we walked through, four youngsters waved at us constantly until we were out of sight. “Hello” and “good-bye” are definitely in the vocabulary, up there with “yes” and “no”.

Yes, it’s a friendly place, but too bad their Post Office isn’t more clearly marked.

Dirty Money – August 2007

We were thrilled that our bank card worked in Tonga – and more thrilled that they had a Westpac branch, which doesn’t charge us a fee. However, we wondered about the condition of the bills that we extracted from the banking machine. They were greasy and smelled like rancid coconut. Baffled, we went to ponder the mystery over French fries and coconut ice cream.

We noticed that only the small bills – ones, twos and fives – were in the greasy condition. The tens and twenties were nice and crisp. No one complained when we paid for goods and services with the grimy bills, and when we got change from the tens and twenties, we usually got bills that smelled of rancid coconut.

We didn’t ask anyone for an explanation, fearing a simple “No” or “Yes” to our questions, but soon discovered the answer to the mystery when we went to a cultural event.

Tongan dancers cover their arms and shoulders with coconut oil before they put on a show. Spectators, to show their appreciation to the dancer, paste one and two denomination bills (called pa’angas) on the dancer’s body. Of course, these bills make it back into circulation, probably causing all sorts of problems for the bank machines, and having mixed effects on the appetites of visitors.

We didn’t see much dancing in Tonga, so did not play a big role in the circulation of dirty money in the area.

Anchorage Number 17 – August 2007

There are so many anchorages in Tonga that they had to number them. I guess cruisers were making such a mess of the pronunciation of the exotic names that numbers seemed like a good solution. One Sunday, a local woman rowed over to our boat to let us know that we were invited to church “at anchorage number 17”. It was almost like a bingo game.

Tonga can certainly brag about the number of beaches and anchorages it has to offer, although we wouldn’t complain if they heated up their ocean a little bit. We only stayed at a few anchorages, and then had to continue heading west to keep to our weather-imposed itinerary. We have often said that we might circumnavigate a couple of times. When we reflect on the fact that we have missed out on a large part of Tonga, that plan seems like a good one.

East versus West – August 29, 2007

Until this date, CanKata has always sailed in the west. That is, her coordinates have always been somewhere between 60°W (Trinidad) and 173°W (Tonga). Today she went from 179°W to 180° to 179°E. She is now sailing in the east. This will continue until she reaches the Prime Meridian (0°), when she is nearly through the Mediterranean Sea.

You don’t want to know what happens to our navigating if we forget to put an E instead of a W after our longitude. We’re quickly catching on.

Eating Out – September 2007

During our travels, we have often heard cruisers brag about a place where they have been where they “couldn’t afford to eat on the boat”. They claimed that the local restaurants were so cheap that it cost less to eat out than to buy the ingredients and prepare a meal aboard.

We have finally found such a place.

Savusavu, Fiji, has the greatest restaurants and the lowest prices we thought possible. This picturesque little town is off the beaten track, even for cruisers, but is becoming more popular as word gets out. The people are friendly, the officials are easy-going, the anchorage is protected, the scenery is beautiful, and you can eat every meal out without breaking the bank. (Speaking of which, we could get money with our debit card with NO fees).

Some of our favourite meals: pizza, chicken chow mein, chicken fried rice, chicken curry, salsa and chips. We ate at Bula Re’s, the Blue Water Café, Captain’s Café, Waitui Marina, and, unfortunately, Chong Pong’s, which was affordable but not very good.

The only meals we had on CanKata were breakfasts. Even “happy hour” was ashore. We had such a good time in Savusavu that we have started giving thought to changing our itinerary for next year. Instead of continuing west on our circumnavigation, we may return to Melanesia to give it a more thorough exploration. I get hungry just thinking about it.

Drop Cloths – September 2007

While in Savusavu, Fiji, we took the bus (six hours in total there and back) to Labasa on the other side of the island, and got to enjoy the scenery that the interior had to offer – spectacular. It was a bit like a roller coaster ride – slowly climbing to the top of the hill, zipping down the hill, slowly climbing to the top of the next hill … and so on. We got a chance to visit with the locals on the bus and play with the children (“peek-a-boo” being the favourite with the little ones). Fijians speak English, by the way.

It was an open air bus – meaning no glass windows except for the driver – but there were drop cloths with clear plastic inserts (clear being a broad term – they were actually very cloudy) that passengers could raise or lower depending on the collective will. On the ride to Labasa, the weather was fine so the drop cloths were up, allowing us to enjoy the view and the fresh air (VERY fresh in the mountains). On the way back to Savusavu, however, there was a good deal of rain so the drop cloths were being constantly lowered, then raised when the rain stopped. The passengers were responsible for the task, and handled it superbly. It was a bit like a game … who would be the first to break. But as soon as someone decided that he or she had gotten wet enough and then made the move to lower the drop cloth, everyone pitched in and helped. As soon as someone decided that they needed fresh air or a look at the scenery and wanted the cloth raised, everyone pitched in and helped. If they were awake, that is. Fijians who travel between Savusavu and Labasa like to get their sleep while they travel. No one rested his head on my shoulder, but my lap did become the home of a tot’s dirty pair of feet while he napped in his grandma’s arms.

We only had a couple of hours in Labasa before we had to catch our return bus, but it was enough time. It couldn’t hold a candle to Savusavu, being bigger, dirtier, and busier. We toured the main street, had a mediocre lunch, and then returned to that little piece of heaven – Savusavu.

Our First Real Race – September 2007

By Darrel

We were lucky to arrive at Musket Cove on Malololailai Island during the Fiji Regatta Week. While there, we were invited to crew on Moon Fleet – a 47-foot Van de Stadt Samoa in the “Around Malolo Island Race” which is the final and most serious race of the week. CanKata, while being a catamaran which is normally synonymous with fast, is certainly not a race boat – she’s too short and heavy especially with all our cruising gear and provisions.

After we were invited we found out that the crew was all male except for Loretta. An all male crew should have been our first clue of the seriousness of this race, but having already participated in two other fun races on the 58-foot yacht Tamasha, we thought this was going to be similar.

Our second clue was when we were told to be onboard by 1000 hrs even though the race did not commence until 1200 hours. We both thought this seemed a bit early but we assumed they were just a social bunch and wanted to have a pre-race beer or two. Our last clue was the number of crew signed up for this boat – eight including Loretta.

Being prompt as usual, Loretta and I showed up at 1000 hours sharp. All the other crew arrived at the same time. Within minutes, one of the crew members informed us that with the captain’s agreement he was to be in charge as well as being the chief tactician and helmsman for our boat. He told us that he had assigned us to the various positions and roles required in order to race the boat and he would be taking us aside one at a time to go through the roles – not even a mention of a cold beer. The captain of the boat was basically there to answer any questions re the operation of the boat not to mention worry about pushing the boat to its limits during the race.

At this point I tried to think of a way to excuse myself from participating in this race, such as “oh no I forgot that I left my generator running and must return to my boat”. But since CanKata does not even have a generator, I thought it wise to hang in there and just try to stay out of trouble. I kept having flashbacks of racing clips where the captain is yelling at and scolding a crew member for screwing up. I also remember stories of crew members falling off a race boat and being left behind for rescue by others. Damn where is that cold beer?

I was told that I would be responsible for the starboard preventer, starboard jib sheet, hydraulic backstay, deployment of the spinnaker and assisting the other three cockpit crew members as required. Well I knew what a preventer was, and a jib sheet, but coming from a catamaran I did not have a clue about the adjustment of the hydraulic backstay. Also, I have never been on a boat with a flying spinnaker but knew it was deployed by hauling down a sock so I new I could figure that one out. Before I got the chance to inform our chief tactician re my ignorance of the backstay, the captain came to my rescue by saying the backstay adjustment was already as tight as it could be and therefore did not require any further adjustment – whew.

Once all the other crew members were briefed on their positions, i.e. two foredeck crew, three cockpit crew, one helmsman, one tactician, and one photographer – Loretta, we raised anchor and went out to practice a few manoeuvres. After circling around practising all points of sail and guarding our desired starting position we were ready for the 1155 whistle to inform us that we had five minutes to start. Our tactician told us he would strive to have us at hull speed (maximum boat speed) on the start line as the 1200 whistle blows. He did not tell us that the other twenty-five racing yachts would also be striving for the same, resulting in us being only a few feet from other boats all going zipping along at slightly various speeds and directions. This is where you hear the cursing going on in a real race. We got off to a great start.

All the planning paid off. We were well behind the high-speed catamarans, but picked a similar-class boat to have our private race with. We were kept hopping with commands such as, “All spare hands to starboard for weight!” “All weight mid-ship!” And we all yelled with delight as our helmsman nearly drove our competitor onto a reef … such good sports.

After 2 hours and 16 minutes we finished the race in the top half which mostly included the high-speed catamarans, and as the winner of our private race. Both Loretta and I had a fantastic time and would repeat the experience again if and when the opportunity arose. And yes, once we were safely anchored we were served with ice cold beers.

Photos: Our fun race on Tamasha, real racing on Moon Fleet (centre boat), the racing crew of Moon Fleet – with their beer.

O Canada – O Sorry

At the opening ceremonies of the Fiji Regatta, each participating country was asked to sing their national anthem. Darrel and I were the only Canadians, but decided we would try to represent our country. Darrel was nervous about remembering all the words, so I sang it to him a few times until he felt fairly confident. On the night of the opening ceremonies, we did our bit. Darrel did just fine. I flubbed the very first line. I corrected myself with “oh – sorry!” and then we started right in again, without anyone really noticing that there was a mix up. But now Fijians and cruisers from all around the word are wondering what Canada is so apologetic about.

Good-Bye Talerra!

One of the saddest things about leaving Fiji was that we left behind our great boating buddies Melanie and Dave on S/Y Talerra. We’re going to miss you two.

We’re heading to Australia, and they are heading to New Zealand. But we have discovered that this is a very small world, and it is likely that we will meet up again. Here’s hoping!

What Do You Do When You Come To A Fork In The Road?

By Darrel

When Loretta and I were landlubbers we would not have been considered very adventurous. Sure, we traveled a bit, mostly because of business, but we rarely strayed from the main routes. Now that we have been cruising for almost three years and continually heading into new waters, we have definitely augmented this characteristic. Don’t get me wrong, we still keep our sensors up and remain street-smart when treading into local communities; however, when we are out in the wilderness we are much keener now to take hikes along roads and trails than during our prior lives.

As you may have read in some of our previous reports, we have comes across many wonderful surprises by taking these offbeat roads and trails. Just today we were gunk-holing along a small river at the north end of Prony Bay, New Caledonia when we found a small landing with a trail leading off into the forest. We took the trail and it led us up the mountain to a wonderful set of fresh water falls where we were able to take a dip to cool down and remove some of the spider webs that we encountered on the way up. Later we took another trail that led us to a hot water pool where we sat in and soaked away an hour of the day. We then took another fork that led us to a beautiful set of falls. So, what do you do when you come to a fork in the road? You take it!*

* Yogi Berra

Australian Visa – October 2007

While in Nouméa, New Caledonia, Darrel and I visited the Australian Consulate to apply for visas to visit there. “It would be easier for you to apply on-line”, the receptionist told us. “But we’re here now, so we might as well apply now”, we reasoned. We had dressed for the occasion and didn’t want our efforts to have been in vain.

However, to our surprise, the receptionist was understating the situation when she said “it would be easier”. To apply for visas from the Consulate, we would have to get chest x-rays, provide immunization certificates, submit proof of our satisfactory financial position, pay a whole lot more money than it would cost on-line, and learn the words to our national anthem (just joking on that last one).

To apply on-line, we needed: our passport numbers and our credit card.

We applied on-line.

So now we are on our way to “Oz” … one of the most dangerous countries in the world. We’ll tell you why in our next update.

Quarantine – October 2007

When we arrived in Australia on October 22, we were greeted by five officials – two from Australia Quarantine Services and three from Customs/Immigration. They were friendly, polite, and very thorough.

We are familiar with the forms and routines of Customs and Immigration officials. Some cost money, some need a bit of bribing, all require that you to fill out a whole pile of forms. Quarantine officials, however, are a new experience for us. We met our first QO in New Caledonia and were shocked when she took away our popcorn, honey, garlic, ginger and smoked sausage (not to mention the fruit and vegetables we had leftover that we figured she would take).

So we were better prepared for Australia. It helped that they had comprehensive information on a web site. We ate everything we could before entering Aussie waters, including the last of our New Caledonia popcorn. Still, we weren’t as prepared as we thought. We had to hand over our homemade yoghurt and our whole cloves, and then we had to crack open our maracas to see if there were any seeds inside (there weren’t). After a thorough inspection of all our cupboards and bilges and the bottom of our boat, we were allowed to take down our yellow Q flag.

We understand the tough quarantine laws. When you think about what is already living on this continent (see below), it’s no wonder they don’t want any more strains of corn or cloves. Just the thought of it makes my maracas shake.

Wildlife of Australia – December 2007

I hinted that Australia was one of the most dangerous countries in the world. While the people are wonderful and the police do a great job of keeping the peace, there are very many other species that don’t exactly roll out the welcome mat when you enter their territory. Here’s a few of them: the box jellyfish, salt water crocodile, blue ring octopus, stone fish, red back spider, brown snake, tiger snake, great white shark, and the funnel web spider.

Northern and North-Eastern Australia have some of the most beautiful beaches in the world but they are, most of the time, completely deserted. The reason: the dangerous animals inhabiting the land. And we’re not just talking university students on break.

Australian waters contain some 70 species of shark, several of which are dangerous to humans. About 100 species of venomous snakes are found in Australia. In fact, of the ten most dangerous snakes in the world, eight are Australian.

The climate in Australia can also be pretty nasty. With its vast deserts and low annual precipitation, droughts are common. Right now, many areas are exercising water restrictions. Along with the hot and dry climate comes another danger: fire.

Our first extreme weather experience in Australia wasn’t drought, but just the opposite. We were caught in a severe downpour and hail storm that flooded the highway. We were being driven home by some Australian friends whom we had gone out to dinner with, and nearly ended up sailing back to CanKata in a four-wheel drive. (In actual fact, many four-wheel drives here have snorkels as accessories!)

If you manage to not be killed by any of the above, there are always motorcycles. This year, over 150 deaths were attributed to motorcycle accidents.

Then there is the sun. Every single day since we have been here, the UV index has been “extreme”. Even on cloudy days, Australians are cautioned to wear sun screen. It has something to do with a large hole in the ozone layer right above this continent.

Dangerous species, droughts, fires, storms … if that isn’t enough, there are dingoes to steal your baby, kangaroos to run into your car at sunset, koalas to eat your leaves then poop on you, cellular phone service providers to charge you an arm and a leg, and quarantine officials to take away your popcorn. Visitors to Australia should be well prepared for the dangers they face.

The other day we met an Australian woman who commented that we were “very brave” for having crossed the Pacific Ocean. Ha! – That’s nothing compared to spending a day in this country.

Surviving Lynn

We haven’t seen many dangers where we are cruising here on the Gold Coast in Queensland. We’ve seen a koala (note that it is not a koala bear), lizards, a couple of snakes, a dugong, jellyfish, kangaroos, a wallaby, colourful parrots, a lorikeet, and a cockatoo – all pretty harmless. In fact, the most dangerous living thing we have encountered so far is our friend, Lynn. Lynn is in a hurry, always. Everything she does is fast, from crossword puzzles to dishes to driving. Sometimes I like to go fast, too, and was excited when she offered to take me for a ride on her seadoo – a Canadian built Bombardier – pronounced “bombadeer” – just like in Saskatchewan.

I guess fast is a relative term. When Lynn had us zipping across the water at 90 kph, I decided I much preferred going not-so-fast. And when I heard Lynn shout, “Look! A big wake!” I knew that I would much rather be going 6 knots on CanKata. We took the wake, Lynn squealed with delight as we flew over it, I buffered the landing with my knees, and am thankful to this date that I still have all my teeth and can walk.

I was reminded of the woman in the store who thought I was very brave for having sailed across the Pacific Ocean. Ha! She’s never been on a seadoo with Lynn!

(But a big thanks to Lynn for showing me my first wallaby.)

The Dangers of Being on the Hard

I’ve just about covered all the dangers one might face while visiting Oz. Before I continue with this story, I’ll repeat some lines from the song “The Hard” by Eileen Quinn that I put on this web site in August of 2006, when we were on the hard in Trinidad:

It’s a hard, it’s a hard

it’s a hard, Lord it’s a hard

it’s a hard, hard life

life on the hard

for every job crossed off my list

I seem to add two more

I blinked and one week in the yard

somehow ran to four

but with a credit card and a little luck

soon we’ll be afloat

please mister lift driver

please don’t drop my boat

We were on the hard from November 6 to 10, a surprisingly short time, considering the amount of work that had to get done. We are very impressed with the way Aussies get things done.

The good news:

v the lift driver did not drop our boat

v the security guard let us run to the bathroom in the middle of the night without arresting us (we actually were not supposed to be staying on the boat, but there were no hotels nearby)

v we only had to spend two more nights on the hard than planned (the bottom paint took longer to dry than expected on account of wet weather)

v the yard had nice showers, a Laundromat, a great little café with reasonable prices, every yacht service you can imagine, and very friendly, professional workers

v we have a high limit on our credit card

The dangers:

v the proximity of the places where one could by boat stuff … just about everything a yachties wants

v a high limit on our credit card

v the availability of two brand spanking new Yanmar 30 horse-power 3YM30F engines

So we did it. We replaced not only our expired starboard engine, but also the port engine that was still running smoothly. It seemed the prudent thing to do – replace both at the same time. We were able to sell both old engines for a decent price, and are now able to run full steam ahead with two engines … something we haven’t done since leaving the Tuamotus in early May. Our bank account will never be the same, but we love the sound of CanKata purring like a kitten.

$14.99 – December 2007

Australia has no pennies. Like Canada, it does have $1 and $2 coins, so it’s great that they have made room in men’s pockets for the extra coins. No doubt Canada Mint is considering the extinction of our penny – which would be a shame. It’s the coin with the Maple Leaf, Canada’s greatest symbol.

But they have no pennies here. Yet, the other day, in the Liquor Superstore, boxed wine was priced at $14.99. We bought two. “That’ll be $30.00, mate”, said the fellow at the cash register. Darrel handed over his credit card. The fellow says, “Okay then, mate, that’ll be $29.98”. If we had paid cash, we would have been short-changed two cents.

I became curious, and asked the fellow why they would price their wine with a 99 when there are no pennies to give change. He leaned towards me and whispered, “Consumer psychology”. I said “Ah” and walked away wondering about the psychological effect of constantly being robbed of non-existent pennies.

There is a happy ending to this story. The other day, Darrel paid cash when he got gas for the dinghy. It came to $11.57. Darrel had to pay only $11.55 cash – a two cent saving.

Conclusion: If the merchant is going to round up, pay with a credit card; if they are going to round down, pay cash.

Land of Ies – December 2007

By Darrel

One of the many nice things we were looking forward to during our stay in Australia was to have English as the local language. We enjoy using our French and Spanish but when we have to get a lot of work done on the boat you want to be sure that the proper message is being received. However shortly after our arrival we realized that there are a number of differences from the North American English and the Aussie English. To give you a taste of the Australian parlance I have concocted a mock article that could potentially be seen in a local newspaper or magazine. Please note that all names have been altered to protect the innocent.

2007 Graduation Celebrations Underway

Any of the local boaties and yachties anchored in the vicinity of Surfers Paradise yesterday would have noticed quite a transition from the tranquil setting to one of – well let’s say not quite so tranquil.

Shortly after noon a number of truckies who were loaded with lumber and equipment arrived in the area along with two bus loads of leckies, techies, sparkies and chippies. Working together in an organized chaotic fashion they erected a number of stages at various locations along the beach. Just as the trucks and busses departed thousands of schoolies, and unfortunately the accompanying toolies began to arrive by cars, busses and even by tinnies. The crowd immediately swarmed the beach, removed their molies exposing their skimpy swimwear and tanned bodies. One bystander commented that even though these future unies were acting more like kindies there were no fuglies amongst them. He also stated that he would rather see the schoolies, especially those who were his rellies, here having their barbies than spending time at the pokies.

An outsider could see there was no need to worry about dehydration with this group of Aussies given the massive amounts of tinnies that were trucked in. With the oncoming of dusk, with the exception of the newbies to the area, it was expected they would also have also purchased a large supply of repellent from Woolies for the mossies. Perhaps they also bought their Chrissies at the same time.

Boaties - boaters

Truckies - truckers

Leckies – electrical technician

Techies - technicians

Sparkies - electrician

Chippies - carpenters

Toolies – predators of schoolies

Tinnies – aluminium boats

Molies – short pants

Unies – university students

Kindies – kindergarten students

Rellies - relatives

Pokies - casinos

Tinnies - aluminium cans of beer (not to be confused with aluminium boat)

Woolies - Woolworths

Mossies - mosquitoes

Chrissies – Christmas trees

The People of Australia – December 2007

We recently received an email from an Australian named Dick who is living in Canada. He commented on the similarities between Aussies and Canadians. “We love the Canadian people who we find are very much like Australians (i.e. pretty laid back, enjoy a party, and not prepared to take life too seriously)”, he said.

We are a lot alike. In fact, if you were to listen to the ABC radio, you might say, “Why, that sounds just like the CBC.” Even the news topics are similar – terrorism, lack of affordable housing, the environment, homelessness, and cricket. Okay, so we don’t get much cricket news in Canada. And you might here them talk of Chrissy (Christmas) and unies (universities) and not know what they are talking about, but you would again feel right at home when they played the music that is just like the music heard in Canada.

Everything looks so familiar – the architecture, the malls, the highways, the highway signs, the cars (except no one has their headlights on during daylight), the dentist office, the library, the restaurants, the loos …

You start to feel very comfortable in the familiar surroundings, and to top it all off, the people are extremely friendly. Everyone wants to know “how are you going, mate” (means how are you doing). When you thank someone, it’s always “no worries!” Aussies go out of their way to make you feel at home. People have invited us to barbies, to take us shopping or on a tour, and offered us the use of their cars, their homes, their phones, and their mothers (I might be misremembering that last one).

There are a few differences. For instance, every weekend here on the Gold Coast is like the long weekend in July in Canada. A large number of people heads to the beach or has a barbie or goes camping. Imagine, July 1^st fifty-two times a year! Another difference – Canada did not start out as a penal settlement, but we probably now have way more people in prison than Australia does. Finally, Aussies drive on the wrong side of the road.

We love Australians. Never have we felt so welcomed to a place. We can’t count the number of people who have said, just like Dick did, that Canadians are very much like Australians. It’s quite a compliment!

In closing, did you know? …

Australia implemented conscription to support the Vietnam War.

Darwin was bombed repeatedly by the Japanese in WWII.

General Douglas MacArthur saved Australia’s butt in WWII. Britain kind of deserted them.

Australia grows Canola (which is about as Canadian as you can get, next to beavers and maple syrup).

Most Australians have a barbie for Chrissy. It’s too hot to turn the oven on.

Most parks in Australia offer free electric barbies for use. And the park entry is free.

Most beaches in Australia offer free showers. However, with the current water restrictions, many are turned off.

In Australia, you spell coffee “c-o-double f-double e”. You spell free “f-r-double e”. I get laughed at when I spell “d-a-r-r-e-l”.

Australians love Canadians, eh!

How We Spent Chrissy of 2007

We have become accustomed to spending the festive season in warmer climates, and no longer dream of white Christmases, but we still like to have the traditional meal. This year, a couple of days before Christmas (because we are not using our freezer and the turkey had thawed), I cooked a seven-pound turkey in our little Force 10 oven and we shared it and all the trimmings with our Aussie cruising buddies, Lynn and Nicholas. We didn't have pumpkin pie but Lynn supplied a traditional Aussie dessert called Pavlova, which is a meringue cake smothered with fresh kiwi, strawberries and passion fruit. It was created by an Aussie to honor the Russian ballerina, Anna Pavlova. Delicious!

On Christmas day we met up with a number of other cruisers and strays, mostly Aussies, to have a picnic in a park. There were about 25 of us and we put out quite a spread, including the traditional Aussie prawns, and had access to free barbeques. We spent most the day eating, lounging and chatting on the grass, and then we played a game of cricket! It was our first game. We did not embarrass Canada, but I did come away with a thick lip from a side game of Frisbee.

Boxing Day found us in the Aussie catamaran “Nemo” with Kerry and Diane, watching an important cricket game and then the start to the “Sydney to Hobart” yacht race.

A picnic or a day at the beach is fast becoming the traditional Aussie Christmas, with the cricket and race watching on Boxing Day. We can’t tell you how special it was to be part of the new tradition! Big thanks to our wonderful Aussie hosts and friends.

Our Annual Staff Party

Speaking of tradition, Darrel and I like to take a day each year to look back at the year’s accomplishments and to look forward to what’s in store for us. So on New Year’s Day or thereabouts, we hold our Annual Staff Party for CanKata, her crew, and all her components.

This year we had some new members to welcome – two shiny Yanmar engines, along with some new solar screens for our windows, dinghy wheels, and our GPS mouse, plus we paid tribute to all the loyal components that have faithfully served us … Jenny the wind generator for one, Otto the autopilot for another, and all the others too numerous to mention.

We read our 2007 log book and guest book – both of which brought back great memories of the people we met and the fun adventures we had. Besides all our great cruising buddies who like to party on CanKata, we had seven special guests:

Sue Ann, Ken, Donald, Dawn, Rob, Jan and Dave, all of whom will likely meet up with us again some day for more adventures on CanKata.

We looked through some of our photographs and were amazed again by the striking beauty of the tropics.

We had some special presentations: Darrel received a set of clean sheets … a real treat on CanKata, and Loretta received a special award for excellent galley services. Champagne flowed freely. Special snacks, music and dancing followed. We stayed up late – until nearly 10:00. It was quite a gala.

Bureaucrazies

By Darrel

Please note the names and places have not been changed to protect the innocent.

As much as I hate ranting I have to share our most recent experience with Australian bureaucracy. But to be fair and before beginning the rant I want to praise the Australian Customs. While cruising we were often warned of how difficult our entry would be once we arrived at Australia. We were warned that they would not allow most of our provisions and they would use underwater cameras to inspect our boat and if so decided they would force us to haul CanKata and have our bottom scrubbed to remove any undesirables. If we did not follow all entry instructions we could be faced with fines, or turned away immediately. Well as stated in our last update the entry went very smoothly and both customs and quarantine departments were extremely courteous and professional. There was only one hitch and that was that our “tourist visa” which we had to apply for before arriving in Australia was for twelve months, but had to be renewed every three months. Because of this, Customs could only issue us a three month cruising permit. They told us that once we extend our immigration visa they would be able to extend their cruising permit.

Our “tourist visa” was to expire on January 22, 2008 and we had already visited the Immigration Office to obtain the necessary forms to apply for the extension which we were to submit prior to the expiry date. On January 15^th we completed the forms and took the necessary accompanying documentation and went to visit Immigration. We stood in line for less than 15 minutes to get a number so we could sit and wait for another 30 minutes to meet with Jill one of their immigration officers. We didn’t anticipate any problems to have our tourist visa extended but just in case I wore a clean shirt, groomed my hair, and removed my ball cap before greeting Jill and telling her what a beautiful country she lives in. We passed her our forms, which were neatly hand lettered, and our accompanying documentation, e.g. passports, and proof of our financial status which included a print out of our bank investments and chequing account and a declaration form to reconfirm our financial status.

Jill was very receptive and it was going very well right up to the point where she reviewed our financial status documents. She told us the documents we provided were not sufficient since they did not include our name on the print out. Loretta explained the reason they do not include our name is because she printed them out from our banks website and once you have entered the website the names and some of the account numbers have been omitted for security reasons. This was not good enough for Jill. I asked her how much money we would have to have to obtain the extension. She said we should be able to prove that we have $3000 between us. I told her I had $900 in traveller cheques with me and I could go and obtain the balance in cash. She said this would not do since it would be possible that I could go out and borrow the remaining $2100 from someone. Okay how about if we show you a blank cheque, our Visa card, debit card. Nope, that won’t do since all the numbers are not indicated on the printouts. I then asked would it be possible for Loretta to sign on to our bank through Jill’s computer to verify the printouts. No can do, this is a government computer and she can’t let anyone else use it.

Jill said she will issue a “bridging visa” that will allow us to stay in Australia for another two weeks to obtain proof that we can scrounge up $3000 (not her words). So we gave her our Visa card and she processed our application fee of $430 and said we can go. We told her our Visa limit was over $3000 and the balance was $0 so could she submit a slip for $3000 and once it gets approved she could cancel it. No, can’t do that either.

We then asked if we had of submitted this application for an extension online how would we have proven our financial status. Jill said it would not have been necessary they would trust our information by ticking a box.

We ran out of ideas so we decided to leave and try to think of a way to resolve this issue. But before leaving I suggested to Jill as a government employee she should report this issue to her supervisors and come up with a solution for future cases. She pointed to a small brochure on her desk that we could fill in to issue praise or a complaint. We then asked if we had to stand in line and wait again to see her once we obtain better proof. Without a smile she said yes.

We immediately went to an internet café and went back to our bank’s website to see if we could associate our name with any of the bank statements. The closest we could get was by printing our Visa statement which showed all but 4 numbers that were on our Visa card. Back we went to Immigration and after standing 20 minutes in line to get a number and sitting for another 1 ½ hours we got back to see Jill. Perhaps Jill was satisfied because she had put us through enough hoops and that she was able to leave for lunch while we were waiting to see her, and after examining our new printout and closely verifying our credit card number, she processed our application. We left without thanking her or reminding her how happy we were to be visiting this wonderful country.

Now that we were allowed to stay for another three months, our next challenge was to get our cruising permit extended by Customs. I told Loretta that we may have to sail back to Brisbane which is about 40 miles north since there is no Customs office here in the Gold Coast – not to mention what other hoops they may force upon us. Well when I called they pulled up our file and informed us the extension would be “no worries mate” all we have to do is see you to verify the visa extension and provide you with the new permit. I told him where we were located and he said “no worries” I can drive down there later this week or the next. Two days later Customs called us and I dinghied to shore and without any hassles or costs had our extended cruising permit in hand. Talk about two extremes in bureaucracies.

Further to the article in the last update, Land of Ies, I think I could add to the Australian parlance – bitchies.

Bum’s Bay – February 2008

Bum’s Bay, Australia, cannot be found on any charts. It’s not a secret hide-out – it simply goes by another name: Marine Stadium. We’ve never anchored in a “stadium” before. We’ve been told that it’s called a stadium because there often are special water events held here. Mostly, however, it is the home of Aussies who live on their boats, ergo Bum’s Bay.

CanKata has become a bum. She has made this bay her temporary home.

Specifically, Bum’s Bay is located at 27°56.38’S, 153°25.22’E, on the Gold Coast near Southport, south of Brisbane. If you enter Australia’s inland waterways at the Gold Coast Seaway, just a few left-hand turns and a few minutes later, you will be snug as a bum in Bum’s Bay.

Location, location, location

If you have ever met a real estate agent, you know that for some people, location is really the only thing that matters in life. If this is so, then Bum’s Bay has everything going for it that it needs: just minutes from the seaside, a short dinghy ride to Sea World, close to Australia Fair shopping plaza, a short sail to Runaway Bay, close to The Spit and the Seaway Tower, just a day trip to Tipplers (where there’s a bar), and, of course, it is on the Gold Coast – Australia’s Miami.

If you know us, you know that Bum’s Bay is not really our kind of bay. Malls, theme parks and civilization aren’t what we’re after. In fact, the Ferris wheel at Sea World was recently dismantled. While most of the bum’s here wept, Darrel and I cheered. But when the wind blows in the right direction, our cockpit faces the sea. On a calm night, we can here the ocean’s surf. Regularly, dolphins glide through and a couple of horses swim by. And now that we have met many of our neighbours, we are surrounded by friends.

The Occupants of Bum’s Bay

We have not seen any other foreign boats in Bum’s Bay, although there have been a couple of New Zealand boats and technically they are foreigners. During the week, the occupants are live-aboard Aussies. On the weekend, the live-aboards are outnumbered by the weekenders. Vessels vary: catamarans similar to CanKata; monohulls in a variety of sizes; trawlers big and small; houseboats old and new; runaway dinghies (these only on occasion, usually after a Saturday night bash). There is a fair bit of room in the bay, but on the weekend there are sometimes collisions when currents and winds pick up and boats start swinging on their anchor chains. CanKata (knock wood) has never been bumped here.

In this bay, we have become friends with wonderful people: Diane and Kerry of Nemo, Sylvia and Gerd of Daedalus, Helena and Peter of Oceandeep, Peter of Medusa, Carol and John of Windsong. We wave frequently to Happy Hour, Cassimi, Mirabel, and Soul.

Bum’s Bay is also the home of the Ship Shop – a big houseboat converted to a floating grocery store that sells liquor. It comes with a little runabout that sells ice cream at an exorbitant price that is well worth it on a hot muggy day in the bay.

Helicopters love to fly past our bay, showing off its calm beauty to Asian tourists. Dogs and their owners love to run along its lengthy beach. Fishermen cast from the shore or troll by on their little boats. Pelicans, gulls, eagles and swallows and noisy crows also call this home. It’s a happening place.

The Rules of Bum’s Bay

The Gold Coast officials do not want this to become a bay of bums. Therefore, they have posted numerous signs that say, to quote exactly: “Vessel owners are advised that anchoring and mooring in this area is restricted to a maximum of seven days in any sixty-day period. Maximum penalty – 40 penalty units. During aquatic events, vessels are required to vacate the area.” This very specific rule has been interpreted by the bums of the bay as follows:

“Vessels shall not remain in this bay for more than six days. On the seventh day, move to another bay to spend the night. Then vessels are permitted to return to this bay for another six days, after which this cycle will be repeated continually”.

This Golden Coast Rule has been followed to the letter by CanKata (except for one very windy two-week period where no one was moving anywhere except if their anchor dragged). So once a week we haul anchor and motor to either Australia Fair anchorage where we can dinghy to shore and shop till we drop, or to Wave Break Island where we can dinghy to Runaway Mall and buy cheap boxed wine. The latter is our preference. The Gold Coast officials have never bothered us. No “penalty units” have been slapped against us. However, we were once surrounded by two Customs boats and were boarded by one official who was wearing a flak vest. He gave us a key chain and pen with their 1-800 number and asked us to call them if we saw anything “suspicious”. He checked our passports and papers and went off with a friendly wave. He’s about the only suspicious character we have met.

The Games of Bum’s Bay

As usual, CanKata has become the party boat. Not only do we have a big, comfy cockpit, but we also are the only boat that has a set of double-twelve dominoes and a set of Farkle dice. If you are a cruiser, you know the importance of both. We also have plenty of decks of cards and a hand-painted game of Barricade from Sylvia and Gerd (S/V Daedalus) and an unending supply of cheap rum from Panama. We also have an open-door policy from 3:00 p.m. onwards. We are thankful that all our friends go to bed early, so we usually are able to close our doors before 8:00 p.m. Game time on CanKata even attracts regular visits from Lynn and Nicholas of S/V Trius which is moored at the Southport Yacht Club – a ten minute dinghy ride away. CanKata also organized Bum’s Bay first dinghy drift! Eight dinghies participated, enjoying food, drink, singing and jokes while drifting together in the bay.

Visitors to Bum’s Bay

This is where CanKata will be when our “friends from away” come to visit. We are expecting Jim and Freddy on February 17, while Sue Ann, Nancy and Lenore are coming on March 2. A short while ago, cyclones were threatening our safety and we tried to move further south. However, the winds were on our nose and kept us here. We are happy to report that, so far, no cyclones have visited Bum’s Bay. The weather seems to be stabilizing (let’s knock wood again) and although the northerlies look like they are kicking in, we don’t think we will go south after all. It appears we’ve become bums.

Beaching CanKata

By Darrel

When we arrived in Australia our first order of business was to go to a full service marina so we could replace our two Yanmar engines. The cost for the travel-lift and wash down was $570 USD plus we had to pay an additional $60 USD per day for being on the hard. Once this work was completed and CanKata was returned to the water we tried not to think that after 50 hours of use we would have to return to this marina for another expensive haul-out so we could undertake the 50 hour check-up which included changing the sail drive gear oil.

Fortunately, we discovered that Bum’s Bay was a suitable spot to beach houseboats and catamarans during the right tide conditions – a much cheaper option than a haul-out.

The location, tide and weather conditions were perfect for our first beaching. We crossed over a sand bar at 0630 and dropped our CQR anchor and backed into position so there were 8” (200 mm) under CanKata’s keels. We checked how level the bottom was by taking soundings along side of the two keels. Once satisfied with our position we placed our stern anchor to hold CanKata in place until the tide dropped. The bottom in this area consisted of firm sand with a nice gradual slope up to the sandy beach. The sand bar enclosing this area stopped any waves or wakes from moving or displacing CanKata as it softly set down onto its stubby keels.

As we waited for the tide to recede Loretta and I took advantage of the time and cleaned CanKata’s hulls and polished the area above the water line. We also prepared ourselves and CanKata for the period when the water would drop below the level of its through-hulls which meant that the heads would no longer take in sea water for flushing, and that the water-cooled refrigeration system would have to be shut down. Loretta also had to avoid using our single-sideband radio since the grounding plate would be out of the water.

By noon I was able to drain the gear oil from our sail drives and do other minor work such as cleaning of our speedometer wheel and out sail drive water intakes. By the time the tide turned we were finished our work and enjoying happy hour in our cockpit. We also had time to visit with the friendly local Aussies who stopped by to see what we were up to.

We were up early the next morning and as soon as CanKata was afloat we raised our two anchors with the help of Gerd, an Aussie cruiser friend from S/V Daedalus, and sailed back to the anchorage area.

That evening, after we had our dips and with CanKata and her crew all with clean bottoms, we toasted our boat and ourselves for our first beaching and look forward to the next time.

Additions to CanKata

You would think that after the expense of two new engines, CanKata’s owners would curtail spending. However, chandleries and hardware stores keep tempting us, and we have now added the following to CanKata’s inventory:

v new trampoline lines

v a wash-down pump in the anchor locker

v a replacement for our malfunctioning Northstar GPS

v another propane tank which meets Aussie standards

v stacks of $2.00 DVDs – originals, B movies, cheap entertainment

v a “Barricade” game from S/V Daedalus

v a crab trap which has caught plenty of nice-sized sand crabs - yum

v a new cooler – aka fish coffin

v 30 flags – evidence that our journey has just begun

Full Circle

Sunset, February 6 provided CanKata and her friends in Bum’s Bay one of the most spectacular works of nature we have ever seen. After a very rainy afternoon, the sun decided to show its face just before it slipped below the horizon. The whole bay turned golden, and then the most brilliant rainbow appeared in the east. It was a triple treat: a full bow, a full reflection in the sky, and a full reflection in the water, giving it the appearance of a full double circle.

No matter where we looked, the sight was breathtaking. It was fun to watch all the other boats in the anchorage – everyone was out on deck, and everywhere there were cameras flashing, but no one could really capture the full beauty of it. Our friends on Rum Doodle got a great picture of CanKata, but we haven’t got our hands on it yet. We hope to have it for you next update.

Banking on Bankers – February 2008

Darrel and I have had trouble with our bank cards from time to time. We are happy to advise that our problems are always handled with speed and grace by Kathy Smith (love her last name) of Scotiabank. Kathy has been a godsend. She responds quickly to our emails, always has a solution to our problems, and even provides us with weather reports from Canada: “Horrible day of freezing rain turning to rain then snow then deep freeze tonight. Parts of Saskatchewan were minus 56 with the wind chill yesterday”. Her weather reports help to make our banking problems seem very insignificant.

Kathy has taken care of wire transfers, address changes, mailing us new bank cards, and all the other banking stuff that we can’t do ourselves from the boat. Between her and our son Dylan, who has control of our cheque book, we have managed to stay afloat.

So we’d like to take this opportunity to give a BIG THANK YOU to Kathy for her great service. We can always bank on her.

Dune Tobogganing – February 2008

“We should go for a wagon ride along the beach”, suggested our friend Peter from S/Y Oceandeep. He and Helena had gone once before and found that it was cheap and fun. So ten of us went: Peter and Helena; Darrel and I; our visitors Jim and Freddy; Carol and John of Windsong; and Sylvia and Gerd of Daedalus. We were given a special surprise: dune tobogganing. What a riot! The climb up the dunes was a little hot and hard, but the ride down on the boogie boards was fast and fun. There were no spills or injuries, but we were all eating sand for a couple of hours afterwards. The average age of the group was probably around mid-fifties … and this was a first for all of us. It was the best weather we’ve ever had for tobogganing.

WebMon – March 2008

We received an email from Florian who lives in Germany and is the son of our friend Sylvia from S/Y Daedalus. He has some advice for people who want to be automatically advised that one of their “favourite” websites (e.g. www.cankata.ca) has been updated. “Those people who want to be informed can install a tool like WebMon (see http://www.markwell.btinternet.co.uk/webmon/ ). This tool queries favourite websites for updates and displays a message on the Desktop.” He has also found some mail-based solutions on http://www.changedetection.com/ and http://www.changenotes.com/. We haven’t tried any of the sites, so can’t make any recommendations … but if you are interested in experimenting, let us know how you make out. Thanks, Florian!

More Australian Abbreviations – March 2008

We love this language! Further to Darrel’s story on Land of Ies (December 2007), here are some more new words:

Arvo – afternoon … as in “have a good arvo!”

Lippy – lipstick

Mackies – MacDonald’s restaurant (also saw an add calling it Maccas)

Reggo – (hard g) vehicle registration

Reggo – (soft g) regulation

Rellies – relatives

Salvo – Salvation Army

Stuffed – screwed up

Sunnies - sunglasses

Ute – utility vehicle … something like an El Camino

CanKata’s Co-captain Rises Above Her Fears

By Darrel

As previously mentioned in one of our web postings, Loretta has become a much braver and more adventurous person since leaving Canada in 2004. For those of you who do not know Loretta well, one of her greatest phobias was acrophobia. Actually it wasn’t really a fear of height but rather a fear of falling or dropping something from a height. When we lived on the 28^th floor of the Riviera in Ottawa, Loretta was able to mitigate this fear by standing on our balcony and looking out over the Rideau River. However she still did not relish the idea of standing or being near a sharp drop-off.

Every so often it is necessary for someone to go aloft CanKata’s mast to inspect the rigging or perform maintenance on one of the instruments at the top of the mast. Since my greatest fear is nudophobia and not acrophobia it is usually, nope, always me who gets the opportunity of strapping into the uncomfortable bosun’s chair and putting my life in Loretta’s hands as she winches me up and down the mast.

Each time that I go up the mast, or when one of our visitors requests to be put up the mast, Loretta says to herself - only out loud, that someday she would like to try going up the mast. Knowing Loretta’s phobia and having experienced the situation where someone climbed up a ladder but was not able to come down, I never acknowledged her request.

During our travels we have met a few women who have gone up their mast and this inspired Loretta to make a real request to go aloft the next time we had to inspect our rigging. This task showed up on maintenance schedule for March so when we prepared for it Loretta climbed into the bosun’s chair and after making a few minor adjustments she said she was ready to go. I was concerned that once Loretta got up there she would panic when it came time to having to look down during the descent. So as I winched her up every few feet I would ask her to look down and let me know if she wanted to go higher. I was astounded at how relaxed Loretta was as she was elevated up above the spreaders. What can I say - she makes me proud.

A New Tool/Toy for CanKata

By Darrel

Thanks to our dear friends John and Fran Harding from Ottawa we were provided with a new Dremel TOOL to replace the one that I inherited from my dad a few years ago but that unfortunately broke down recently when making a new gaff hook. Anyone who has a Dremel knows what a valuable and versatile tool it is especially with the variety of bits that are available. For example, I have used it aboard CanKata for cutting of wood work and plastic, sharpening our pole spears, grinding fibreglass and removing rust from metal.

Unfortunately, from Loretta’s perspective we have received a new TOY. Loretta is a very keen beachcomber and she constantly has a nice collection of shells aboard CanKata which she transforms into a number of functional items, e.g. chop stick holders, abacuses, center pieces, dishes and jewellery. I made the mistake one day when Loretta asked me what she could use to drill a small hole in a shell. She also asked how she could remove a blemished portion of a shell or the calcium build-up on the outer portion of the shell. I told her that my Dremel could have been used for both purposes but that it was broken.

Little did I know how excited Loretta was in anticipation of me receiving my new Dremel TOOL. As soon as we received it she began listing all the uses she has for it. She thinks of it as her shell TOY and has kindly offered to let me use it when needed but warns me not to break it.

Acquisitions and Repairs

The Captain and Crew are pleased to announce the following additions to CanKata:

- two bean chairs (for comfy seating on the front deck);

- one MP3 player (no more crying over salt-damaged CDs);

- one new stereo (to play the MP3 through our boat speakers);

- a new Plastimo compass to replace our broken one, mounted at the helm; and

- a tighter budget for April, May, and June.

It hasn’t been all play on CanKata. Here are some of the repairs that have kept the Captain busy recently:

- replaced broken compass

- cleaned and lubricated all winches and the windlass

- fixed leaky shower head on starboard scoop

- cleaned the standing rigging

- refastened the head liner where it was letting go

- cleaned main circuit breaker switch (showing signs of corrosion)

- installed new stereo

- dove to clean hulls and sail drives (and got all covered in tiny biting crustaceans!)

But we’ll admit that it has been mostly play.

Perpetual Summer

By Darrel

Over the past 3 years Loretta and I have been trying to follow our number one guiding principle, even though it contravenes the natural flow of energy, i.e. movement from hot to cold. As the weather turns cooler Loretta and I soon agree that it’s time to start moving, either north or south depending which hemisphere we are in at the time.

Even though the weather in Australia was not hot this past summer, we have recently begun to notice the differences in the air and water temperature. There was one evening when we both dug out our fleece jackets and pants to contend with the cool evening while sitting in our cockpit. Not only that, we dug out the fleece blanket and put in on our bed where it has since remained (one night it dipped to 18 C). Our dips in the water have certainly become briefer and less frequent (water temp has dropped to 23 C).

We quickly remembered how cool it was when we left Canada in September 2004, and then how cold it was when we left the Chesapeake Bay the following November. It was so cold in Norfolk (one night dropped to 5 C) that following the nightly social event we would huddle around a fire and then invite a small group of fellow cruisers over to CanKata for a nightcap - inside the salon. We would close up the doors and hatches and within a few moments CanKata’s interior would be toasty warm due to everyone’s body-heat. We would then shoo our guests out and quickly jump into bed under our blankets and comforter. We do not want to get caught in cool climes like that again.

Since that time we have been fortunate enough to always be able to duck up and down the latitudes in order to find warmer climates.

So now that the weather here is cooling off we have pointed our bows northward hunting for summer.

Darwin here we come!

Shark Attack – April 2008

Just before we left Bum’s Bay, we heard the horrifying news of a shark attack on a beach just down from us. A young surfer, out enjoying the waves with a friend at about 8:00 in the morning, was brutally mauled on the leg by a bull shark, so badly that he bled to death. His buddy swam out to him and hauled him back in on his board, a very brave move, but by the time help arrived, it was too late.

This incident served as a reminder of how careful we have to be in Australia waters. Swimming early in the morning, at dusk, or any time during the night is not wise because it’s “feeding time”, and everything looks tasty to a hungry shark. Eight in the morning isn’t that early, so perhaps that bull shark was simply frantic because he was caught inside the shark net. All along the Gold Coast, a net has been erected just offshore from beaches to keep the sharks out. It doesn’t always work.

As CanKata heads north, we are entering even less safe waters … more sharks and the beginning of crocodile country. Just the other day, at Kingfisher Park on Fraser Island (the largest sand island in the world), just as I was about to jump in for a dip, another cruiser kayaked past and yelled, “Hey, I just saw a shark! But it was just a little one”. I still went for my dip, but it was a quick one.

So we thought we would play it safe and go ashore the next day to enjoy a nice hike around Kingfisher Park. The first sign that greeted us was a warning about dingoes. We saw a couple of them running along the beach, but outside of the protective fence that they had erected around the park.

We knew Australia had some peculiar dangers to watch out for. Lately, they seem to be in our face. But we’re happy to report that all is well, we stay inside the fences, and we’ll only snorkel when there are other people in the water … reduces the chances, you know.

Romeo and Roger – April 2008

Most readers of this web site are familiar with the term “roger” which, in radio language, means “your message has been received and understood”. Aussies love to stray from the usual, especially if they think the usual stems from either the USA or Great Britain. So here in the land down under, the radio term used instead of “roger” is “Romeo”, which is also the word used in the international alphabet for the letter “r”. When we announced to the Coast Guard our safe passage over a tricky bar, the response was “Romeo, CanKata, and have a good sail up the strait”.

We haven’t been to a Shakespeare production here. I shudder to think of the scene …

“Roger, Roger, wherefore art thou Roger?”

Going to the bar – April 2008

By Darrel

I remember when I was young, and perhaps a bit before the legal drinking age, how anxious I was before heading to the local tavern for the first time. I don’t know if the mascara moustache helped convince the waiter that I was old enough to drink but it certainly gave me a bit of confidence.

On our way northward from Mooloolaba towards the Great Barrier Reef we had two choices to travel. One which took us offshore during which we would have to do an overnighter, or one which took us inside the sandy straits between Fraser Island (which is the largest sand island in the world) and the mainland. The later route would give us a more scenic route which we could break up into a number of short day trips so this is the one we opted for. Also, we were buddy-boating with Daedalus who have never sailed at night so we thought it would be better for them until they have a bit more experience under their keel.

Anyone who asked us which route we were taking quickly let us know about the Wide Bay bar. At first I thought it was a common watering hole where we could get a nice cold beer, but I soon realized that it was a sand bar which crossed the entry into the Sandy Straits. From time to time we would hear a story from someone who knew or saw a boat broach (turn sideways) or worse yet pitch-pole (go head over heels) during this somewhat tricky passage of the bar.

We had anchored about seven miles from the entry the night before so that we would be able to cross the bar at high tide, which is the recommended time for passage. On our way to the entry the following morning there were three boats ahead of us, all monohulls, who took a look at the breakers going over the bar and then aborted their entry. One of them reported that the conditions were great provided you were on a surf board, but not a boat.

This made us, well okay me, more anxious so I discussed our options with Loretta and then Daedalus. Everyone was willing to go in a take a closer look. CanKata took the lead and was quickly committed (or should be committed) to going over. We were picked up by a breaking ten foot wave and then surfed down its backside. I was ready to take over from Otto (our Autohelm) just in case it was not able to handle the waves resulting in CanKata going broadside to the waves. But as expected Otto performed right up to par, just as it did during the thirty-foot waves we survived during our leg in the North Atlantic Ocean on our way to the British Virgin Islands back in 2004. We rode out a couple more waves and then were safely across the bar. Daedalus crossed behind us just like a pro and we all agreed that we would be celebrating our successful and safe crossing as soon as we found our anchorage. Daedalus told us later that we got a phone call from some of our other cruising friends who are a day or two behind us to congratulate us. They had heard us report our safe crossing on our VHF to the local Coast Guard.

In hindsight I think I preferred the anxiety of crossing the threshold of a bar illegally than the Wide Bay bar.

Fraser Island – April 2008

Here are some facts (from the Fraser Island Fact Sheet) that we found interesting, over and above the fact that it is the largest sand island in the world:

v it was listed by UNESCO in 1992 as a “protected special place”

v it has over 250 km of sandy beaches

v species on and around the island include dingoes, rare frogs, dugongs, turtles, blue butterflies, wallabies, possums, and 350 species of birds

v some of the sand has travelled for thousands of kilometres and millions of years from Antarctic, starting the journey before Australia and Antarctica split from each other

v the island supports over 100 freshwater rain-fed lakes, most being “perched dune lakes” that sit upon a layer of humus impregnated sand or “coffee rock” formed from accumulating organic matter and sand cementing together into a largely impervious seal

v In 1770, James Cook called it “Great Sandy Peninsula” because he didn’t know it was an island

v In 1799, Matthew Flinders discovered it was an island. The aboriginals knew long before that.

Not wanting to spend $158 for “the tour”, we walked a short circuit then lazed around the pool.

Show Me the Beef

By Darrel

Every place that we have visited has offered us new adventures and cultural differences. One of Australia’s cultural differences is the way they dress – I don’t mean the way they dress themselves, but the way they dress their hamburgers. A typical all dressed hamburger will come with the burger of course and all the regular condiments such as relish, tomato paste (not called ketchup here) and mustard. But also it will come with a thick slab of beet root and a fried egg.

The other day we were doing a rushed provisioning stop and wanted to grab a quick bite. Loretta ordered a club sandwich and I ordered a burger. The listings on the menu board under burgers were: Minced burger; Minced burger with the works; Bacon burger; and others which I cannot recall. I checked with Loretta what she thought they meant by minced burger and she confirmed what I thought and that was ground beef. Well this last sentence doesn’t have anything to do with what I am about to tell you since I decided to order the bacon burger. I also asked if they could put a slice of cheese on it.

When the waitress brought us our food I quickly noticed that the sesame covered bun looked nice and fresh but it seemed a bit thin overall. I lifted up the bun and noticed the cheese, tomato paste and a few thick strips of bacon – but no beef burger. Before the lady who served us (in a non-demeaning way) left our table I asked her if there was not to be a hamburger included. She gave me a strange look so I clarified my question by asking where was the minced burger. She quickly replied that what I ordered was a bacon burger and not a minced burger. I didn’t want to make a scene so I just nodded and thanked her for reminding me.

I asked our two Australian friends who witnessed the entire event and they too were surprised that the bacon burger did not come with a beef burger with bacon on top.

I am glad that I didn’t order a cheese burger.

Cruizheimers is Spreading

By Darrel

One of my most anxious moments occurs when I am clearing CanKata, Loretta and me in at Customs and Immigration offices in the countries that we visit. One of the first questions that they ask me is “what was our last port of call”. I don’t know why but as soon as I am faced with that question my mind goes blank and I can’t even be sure where it is I have just arrived, or for that matter what the day, month, or year is. Surprisingly, when I have mentioned this to other cruisers they too have the same problem. We all immediately discount the cause being Cruizheimers (Alzheimer’s for yachties) and tend to agree that it is due to us visiting so many different ports and countries that we tend to misplace where we are currently residing.

I was reminded of this affliction the other day when Gerd from our buddy boat Daedalus was called on the VHF by Round Hill Volunteer Marine Rescue (VMR) just as we were anchoring. There is a network of VMR groups who track cruisers along the coast and while it is not mandatory, the system allows you to log in with them when you leave a harbour or anchorage and they document where you are going, your ETA, and the number of persons on board – I guess that is so you can be sure you don’t lose anybody along the way. When you arrive at your destination you are supposed to call the local VMR and they will then take you off of their log. The crew on CanKata have avoided using this system since it requires us to remember to call in once anchored. Anyway what was I trying to tell you? Oh yah, we were running late on this particular day, due to light fickle winds and we were an hour or two behind the ETA that Gerd had told the VMR when he logged onto their system that morning. So when the local VMR called they asked Daedalus what their current position was. There was a fairly lengthy pause from Daedalus and then Gerd replied “we are just arriving at our destination”. The VMR wouldn’t let him off the hook that easy, they again asked “what is your location?” Another long pause, and then Gerd came back “we are where we are supposed to be”. If it wasn’t for the laughter on CanKata I am sure we would have heard chuckles coming from the other cruisers who were monitoring the same frequency. VMR simply responded, “Romeo, Daedalus, you are off the log”.

Over the next few days we heard a number of other cruisers get caught in the same predicament as Daedalus. CanKata’s crew reconfirmed that they would not log in to the VMR tracking system – no need to take up their resources.

(Photo: Daedalus – where they were supposed to be – Thomas Island, Whitsundays.)

Surviving Yeppoon – May 2008

Here is what the guide book says: Yeppoon shopping centre is the most comprehensive in the region, and is the last chance to “victual” before MacKay. The creek dries at low tide and is suitable only for local craft whose mud berths line the banks.

So CanKata and Daedalus agreed that Yeppoon would be a good stop. It would not be an easy stop; the stores were a good distance away from shore, the service station was even further, and there was not a good dinghy landing. But at least we would be able to stock up on fresh fruits and vegetables and top up the diesel tanks. The latter would have to be done via jerry cans, so two dinghies would be required. As it turns out, this stop would be a lot harder than we thought.

The two captains, in their respective dinghies, went ashore to get diesel while their respective and respectable crew swabbed the deck and tended to other items on the “to do” lists. Shopping would come later. The surf made for a dangerous dinghy landing, so the captains checked out the creek, even though the guide book didn’t recommend it. It was high tide so navigation was easy, but a few things made them uncomfortable: the “Report Any Crocodile Sightings” sign, the huge bats hanging from the trees, the smell, and the local craft which looked like all had been abandoned for decades. Plus, there wasn’t much water and low tide was just a few hours away, so it definitely wasn’t an option.

The captains found a calm landing just at the mouth of the creek, pulled the dinghies up the beach, loaded the jerry cans on dollies, and went in search of the service station. They found it without much trouble, but were dismayed when the attendant announced, “We’re out of diesel”. But in that wacky wonderful way that Aussies have, she handed over the keys of her truck (after charging $20 towards gas and wear-and-tear) and pointed the captains down the road to where another service station was. Quick-thinking Captain Gerd then asked if it was okay if they made a stop at the dinghies on the way back, to drop off the heavy jerry cans. “No worries, mate”, she smiled. “That’ll be another five dollars though”.

Twenty-five dollars lighter and an hour later, Captain Darrel was back at the boats to unload the diesel and pick up the crew for the “victual” adventure. Captain Gerd stayed ashore to return the truck and then meet us at Coles (grocery store, not book store). We pulled CanKata’s dinghy ashore beside Daedalus’s dinghy, then walked the long walk to Coles.

Let me tell you a bit about Yeppoon. It reminded Darrel and me of Smiths Falls, which is not a compliment. By that I mean it was like a spooky little town out of a Stephen King novel: there was a weird smell in the air; the concrete walks and asphalt roads reflected the heat of the midday sun, and there was no breeze to provide any relief; people moved at a furtive speed; there was a whisper in the air, like everyone was talking about you; and no one looked normal. Well, we certainly didn’t look normal. We stood out, with wind-blown and sun-damaged hair, tanned and weathered skin, wearing bright coloured Crocs, backpacks and salty clothes, trailing our dollies behind us and sweating heavily.

We shuddered when we entered the mall, partly because the air conditioning was going full blast, but also because the people in the mall seemed less normal than the people in the street, and all were staring at us suspiciously. (This was where Darrel got his bacon burger).

But we got everything we needed, from fresh fruit and vegetables to beer and wine and even a couple of fishing lures. We loaded up the dollies and hurried back to the dinghies. By this time, it was low tide.

Low, low tide, and still dropping. We groaned when we saw the dinghies, nice and dry on the beach and about a mile from the water’s edge. Not only does Yeppoon’s creek dry at low tide, its whole coast dries! I guess it was only about 300 feet, but when you have two heavy dinghies and lots of beer and wine along with all your groceries to haul, 300 feet can seem like at least a mile.

We couldn’t wait for high tide. It was already 3:00, we needed to get to our second anchorage before sunset (there was no way we were staying anchored at Yeppoon), and high tide was seven hours away. So we tugged and groaned and tugged and moaned and tugged and cursed. We developed a strategy whereby we loaded everything into one dinghy, tugged the other a good number of feet, then switched the load, then tugged the other dinghy, switched loads again, etcetera. It was very, very hard. We saw many locals on shore, watching us, whispering, probably laughing. It was embarrassing, frustrating, backbreaking, and not funny unless, of course, you were a spectator. It took us nearly an hour to get the dinghies in the water. With much relief, we got back to our boats in time to make the next anchorage, but we were worse for wear: calluses on our hands, sore feet from walking on jagged rocks, aching muscles from all the strain, and Daedalus’s dinghy had a big hole.

We enjoyed our beer and wine that we got from Yeppoon (although it did seem to disappear rather quickly), and we managed to mend the dinghy hole with no problem at the next anchorage, but all in all we have to say that our visit to Yeppoon was very much like a journey through a Stephen King novel. But we all survived, no one has had nightmares about it, and we’ve learned to pay special heed to warnings in guide books that say “dries at low tide”.

Tropic of Capricorn – May 2008

The Tropic of Capricorn lies at 23 degrees, 27 minutes south of the equator, while the Tropic of Cancer lies at 23 degrees, 27 minutes north of the equator. These two lines are the boundaries of the central belt of the earth called the Torrid Zone, of which I knew nothing until I checked on Encarta, our trusty computerized encyclopaedia. I now know that there is such a zone, but that’s all I know.

When CanKata spent her many months on the Gold Coast of Australia, she was below the Tropic of Capricorn, at 27 degrees 56 minutes south. We had passed the T of C on our way from New Caledonia to Australia around lunchtime on October 16, 2007, a cold day when both Darrel and I had to take medication to ward off seasickness. We didn’t celebrate in any way – no champagne, no toasting the gods, no drunk and disorderly behaviour … nothing.

On the night of May 3, 2008, CanKata was anchored at Cape Capricorn, just a few degrees south of the Tropic of the same name. I didn’t even realize it. So once again, we passed a momentous occasion without any hoopla or drunk and disorderly behaviour. How do we let these moments slip through our hands?

We will probably never again pass the Tropic of Capricorn. That doesn’t mean that we no longer plan to circumnavigate again, but it means that we would like to stay within the Torrid Zone. Ah – torrid – what a hot, passionate word. It suits drunk and disorderly behaviour to a tee.

Rock around the croc

By Darrel

A few nights ago while Loretta and I were sitting watching the sunset, Loretta asked me “Darrel, why is it that recently I have noticed that whenever we go onto land you always gravitate to the little old ladies, especially those with mobility problems?”. “Well”, I responded, “it began a number of days ago when I noticed a sign that stated Crocodile Sightings – Call … “

I knew we would eventually run into crocodile country and I was actually looking forward to seeing the beasts. We have seen them before, in movies such as Crocodile Dundee, as well as in their natural environment in the Florida Everglades. But they were always observed from a safe distance and with a guide. We even had a chance to taste one – tastes like chicken.

But after seeing the sign, we began to receive a number of warnings from other cruisers and guidebooks. At our last anchorage, our friends on Nemo mentioned that this would likely be our last time that we will be able to snorkel as we head north due to crocodiles. This took me by surprise since I thought we would only have to worry about crocs when anchored along the mainland near creeks and mangroves, not out on tiny islands and reefs where most of our anchorages would be.

But when I was planning our route I started to see cautionary notes in the guidebooks pertaining to the anchorages that I was plotting. One guidebook states that crocodiles have no fear of man since they are “protected” here in Australia and have not been hunted for more than 20 years. It goes on to say that if common-sense rules are followed then crocodiles should not be a problem. Yikes, what the hell does he mean by common-sense rules? The guidebook continues by stating that crocodiles can jump and run more than 26 KPH. Yikes, how fast can I run? It also states that crocodiles have an affinity with outboard motors and dinghies, especially the inflatable ones. Yikes, that pretty much describes CanKitty. At one of our planned anchorages there is a cautionary note stating “There is also a crocodile in the creek at the southern end of Margaret Bay. This one has taken one person and attacked another person in a kayak and sunk a float plane.” Yikes, CanKata is not much bigger than a float plane, and from a crocodile’s perspective CanKata quite likely resembles a float plane from below.

The other day my speedo quit working – and no I do not mean the one that I wear, or at least am supposed to wear. I mean the one that provides us with our boat speed over water. This is a reoccurring problem caused by sea growth on the bottom when we have been anchored out a lot. To solve the problem is quite easy: all I have to do is don my snorkel gear and dive under the hull and clean the sea growth off the impeller. Yikes, did I say dive – not a chance. The other way to solve this problem is by removing the transducer from the inside of the hull and cleaning the impeller inside the boat. The only problem with this is that it takes a lot longer and it is inevitable that some water gets into the bilge that I need to clean up. Needless to say, I used the latter method.

After explaining all this to Loretta, she said, “I still don’t understand why you are always spending so much time with the little old ladies on shore.” I quickly retorted “As I mentioned earlier crocodiles can run 26 KPH and I know that I can’t. I always want to be close to someone that I know I can run faster than!”

UPDATE to above article – June 9, 2008

You know the myth that claims if you are driving down a road and you keep telling yourself that you will hit the next telephone poll, you will. Well today we were anchored at the anchorage where the guide warned that a crocodile had killed one person, attacked another and sunk a float plane. We were told by some other cruisers that the boat next to us had a 9 foot croc residing underneath it. So my mantra was “don’t fall in, don’t fall in, don’t fall in”.

It was a nice calm day so I decided to take advantage of the flat seas and top up our fuel tanks. I was carrying the fuel filter and hose to the cockpit when I dropped the filter in the water but luckily it landed upright and floated. I quickly ran to the rear sugar scoop and grabbed our twelve foot fishing gaff to snag the filter before it drifted out of reach. Unfortunately my foot slipped and because I was leaning overboard I went head over heals into the water. I grabbed the filter and hung onto the gaff and tried to swim back to the boat as fast as I could. With crocs on my mind it sure didn’t take long for me to climb up onto the sugar scoop even though the swim ladder was not down.

Log Entry – June 10

Escape River, 10°58.26 S, 142°40.50 E:

Today we had a long journey so we were going to leave Margaret Bay anchorage at 2:00 a.m. to ensure we arrived at the next anchorage before sunset. Darrel was tossing and turning in bed and doing what he could to awaken me. Finally I woke up. “Are you awake”, he asked. “No”, I answered. So he left me alone but started tossing and turning again. I woke up enough to turn on the reading light and check the clock: midnight. Ah, two more hours sleep. I snuggled up with my pillow.

Darrel continued to toss and turn. About five minutes later he asked if I was still awake. “No”, I answered. “Well”, he went on to say, “if we're still awake in half an hour, how about we head off?” Knowing I would be sound asleep by then, I agreed to his plan.

Five minutes later, after much tossing and turning, Darrel asked if I was still awake. I answered in the negative. “Well”, he said, “if we can't sleep, we may as well get going!”

So up we got. With both engines running, the wind generator howling and the anchor chain rumbling into the anchor locker, we quietly slipped away just before 1:00, an hour before schedule. We had plenty of light when we arrived at this anchorage. I expect to get a good night sleep tonight, but one never knows.

Kakadu, Northern Territory – July 10, 2008

What a great tour! We left CanKata in our dinghy at 0530, picked up our friends from Katanne, arrived ashore in time to be picked up by the bus at 0605, and got back to CanKata at 2030 … a long day, but it was worth it. The only item left on our Australia wish list was to see crocodiles in the wild, and we saw scads of them at Kakadu.

Kakadu National Park is a world heritage area and home to many Aboriginal people. It contains eucalypts woodlands, a sandstone escarpment, floodplains and billabongs, and a remarkable abundance of plants and animals. While there, we saw rock art that they say is 5000 years old, a cultural centre that demonstrated how the aboriginals lived before the white man changed everything, giant termite mounds, water lilies and birds galore. And we saw crocs on the beach, crocs sunning in the mud, crocs swimming, and crocs sneaking up on other creatures, none of them human. (See our Photos page).

While driving home through the outback, the bus stopped at a “Window on the Wetlands” so we could have wine and cheese while enjoying a spectacular view of water buffalo grazing as the sun set over the wetlands.

It was a great way to end our visit to Australia. After the hustle and bustle and civilized living on the Gold Coast, it was nice to get a taste of the simple life of the Aboriginals and to get a little closer to nature, even though we were seat-belted in an air conditioned bus.

Now we are saying good-bye to Australia – a great temporary home for the past nine months – and we’re looking forward to the next stage of our adventures: Indonesia.

CanKata for Sale! – July 2008

By Darrel

When Loretta and I found CanKata, previously named Camcat, we immediately fell in love with her and knew she was the purrfect boat of our dreams. Our criteria we used for narrowing down our search for a catamaran, starting with the highest were; affordability, safety, comfort, quality, easily handled by two potential octogenarians, layout, number of berths and heads (less is best), location of helm station, condition, age, storage capacity, range (fuel and water capacity), equipment, and lastly how fast she could sail.

Having owned and sailed CanKata since 2002 has assured us that she has fulfilled all of our requirements completely. However she is a very slow catamaran. This is without doubt partially due to the fact that we have loaded her up beyond her designed payload carrying abilities. Even though catamarans have lots of storage space, we knew that it was important to not overload her. We also knew that when we left Panama it would be a long time before we could buy cheap wine and spirits, so instead we raised CanKata’s waterline and let her settle 75mm lower in the water.

We also knew that since we were doing a westerly circumnavigation our winds would be predominantly from the stern. In sailing terms this meant that CanKata would most often be running with the wind or on a broad reach. After zipping across the Pacific Ocean, i.e. 36 days to cover 4100 nautical miles, we realized that CanKata’s worst point of sail was when she was running or broad reaching. In defence of CanKata I have to admit that she loves sailing with the wind from her side or from an angle from the front, especially in strong winds, i.e. 25 knots or more.

During one of our 36 magnificent days in Pacific, when we were bobbing along at 2 ½ knots, we discussed the possibility of purchasing a downwind sail to help us through the remainder of our circumnavigation. Unfortunately that is not an easy decision to make since there are a number of options to choose from, i.e. screachers, chutes, symmetrical spinnakers, asymmetrical spinnakers, code zeros, multipurpose sails (MPS), and others that I can’t remember. Most of these sails are designed for a specific wind orientation and depending on who you talk to one is better than the other. I was also reluctant to make a decision because if we did get one, we would then be obligated to use it. This may seem like a ridiculous statement but let me explain. When Loretta and I took sailing lessons, we took almost every course we could and every opportunity to sail with others. The only course we did not take was the one on how to sail with a spinnaker. Also every time I talked to another cruiser who has a spinnaker, they would always share their worst experience which involved not being able to douse the spinnaker in building winds or close quarters. Another reason not to make a decision. I know what you are all thinking - to avoid having to decide on which down wind sail we should buy why not just list CanKata for Sale and buy a lighter, less comfortable and less safe catamaran that can sail faster downwind.

When we were preparing for our next leg to and through Indonesia we quickly became aware that we were heading into an area with extremely light following winds. Neither one of us mentioned that we should have bought a downwind sail while we waited out cyclone season in the Gold Coast area knowing that it was to late to do anything about it now. However, fortuitously, just a week prior to leaving Darwin, a fellow cruiser mentioned over the VHF on the local net that he had a cruising chute (aka an asymmetrical spinnaker) for sale. We contacted him and later that day he brought it over to us and helped us raise it at anchor to see if it fit. CanKata was all rigged for a spinnaker so it was easy to install it and once it was up we verified that it would do so we agreed to purchase it.

So now CanKata has a total of four sails to select from; mainsail, genoa, storm sail, and a blue, white and red asymmetrical spinnaker.

Adventures in Indonesia – August 2008

We arrived in Kupang on July 30 after sailing through very light winds and calm seas. We used our new chute a lot.

OFFICIALS: It seemed every day in Kupang the fleet had new problems with officials. At some point we were all "impounded" by Customs and then had to pay a fine (= $5 each) and had to put big stickers on our boats that said that we were impounded but then all the problems were worked out and Customs officials came back to each boat to fill out exactly the same form they filled out the first time (all in Indonesian) but which, this time, meant "you can remove your sticker". We all just played along with the bureaucratic games and everyone got away when they needed to.

DRAGGING: The anchorage in Kupang was over-crowded and not well-protected. While we were there it was windy, and nearly every day a few boats would drag, and they would usually be boats that were unattended at the time. On July 31, nine boats dragged. We were on CanKata, so Darrel was part of the team that would rescue and re-anchor the dragging boats. No boats were badly damaged, and no one was injured. The Customs boat dragged the most - three times - until they finally decided to move elsewhere.

BOOBY HATCH: I had some bad luck. I was busy tidying up a line, trying to stop it from chafing the solar screen on our window, when I got distracted and stepped back into a hatch. I grabbed onto the life-lines, which probably saved me from breaking my leg, but got badly bruised. I've had many bruises, but the one on my butt was a dandy which prompted Darrel to take a photo. We now no longer open that hatch all the way, a smart safety measure that we should have implemented in 2002.

FRIENDLY WELCOMES: We had a wonderful day-tour on August 3. At one village, about 1000 people were there to greet us. There were banners along the road for ten miles. We were two small tour busses (about 40 people) with a flashing-light car escort. The villagers sang and danced for us, gave us weaving demonstrations, shook our hands, took photos, served us a delicious buffet lunch with buffalo meat (not bison), gave welcoming speeches, and generally treated us like royalty. What an experience! Their general message was "Tell all your friends and family that Kupang is a good place to visit". It is.

That night, upon our return to the anchorage, the Mayor of the city treated us to an outdoor gala dinner with entertainment, dancing, music, a woven scarf for each of us, and a BBQ buffet. We are being spoiled here.

We had lunch in town one day - a huge serving of chicken fried rice with a fried egg on top and sliced cucumber on the side and a coke. Total cost for two: $2.20.

DINGHY TOSS: We had a bad experience on the evening of August 1. We were supposed to go ashore for the Governor's gala dinner (yes, we're spoiled) but there was a huge swell and Darrel was worried about landing our dinghy on the beach. We waited and watched for quite a while, and the wind did die down but the swell continued. We decided to get in our dinghy and get a closer look. There were a number of dinghies hovering around, trying to decide if it was safe to surf onto the beach. Our dinghy got caught in a large wave that pushed us closer to shore. Worst luck: there was a monster wave on its tail. The second wave washed both Darrel and me out of the dinghy. Darrel had the "kill" switch strapped to his arm so when he went over, the engine stopped immediately, although the dinghy was still barreling along in the wave. He did manage to get back on board pretty quickly. When I was washed over, I was clinging tightly to the "painter" (the line we use to tie the dinghy to docks or CanKata). I was tossed and turned in the waves, then I was whipped back ... under the dinghy! I had a terrible collision with the dinghy motor, but I was concentrating on holding my breath, so didn't cry out in pain. I desperately wanted air, so let go of the painter and was swimming with all my might to get out from under the dinghy, when I realized my t-shirt (an oversized one that was provided to us by Sail Indonesia) was caught on the prop. I tugged and tugged but couldn't get free. I then tried to get the shirt off me, but it was pulled too snuggly around the prop. My lungs were near bursting, but all I could think was "What do I try next?" Best luck: my answer was provided to me. Just then, my feet touched the ground. I stretched straight and just managed to get my face above water. I could hear Darrel frantically yelling for me. I answered "Back here at the motor", and then was sunk again as the dinghy bopped up on another wave. Darrel grabbed me and tried to pull me aboard, but the t-shirt just wouldn't give. My face kept bobbing in and out of the water, but I was getting enough air. Quick-thinking Darrel then pulled up the motor, and I came with it. In this position, I was able to slip out of my t-shirt. At that point, I was out of energy and Darrel had to drag me into the dinghy. He then gave me his t-shirt to put on. We got into shore and received lots of attention from the dinghy boys, who eventually got us new dry t-shirts, guarded our boat as we went away to inspect my wounds (nothing cut!) and then helped us get the dinghy back in the water (careful timing with all that big surf) so that we could go back to CanKata to recover.

We missed the gala dinner and the free gifts, but we are so thankful that the dinghy event didn't end more seriously. The motor didn't get wet, we didn't lose anything, my bruises are great photographic material, and the swelling is slowly but surely going down.

IT’S A DRAG: On our last day in Kupang, we went ashore for a quick trip to buy a few fruits and vegetables, and then went back to CanKata to prepare for departure and have some quiet time. It was another very windy day. Shortly after lunch, Darrel was doing his usual look-around when he yelled to me "We're dragging!" Five days in the same spot and then CanKata decided to drag. The Customs sticker had just been removed, so maybe she was thinking "Let's get the heck out of here!" We were so thankful that we were on the boat. So we re-anchored far from the beach, far from the noise, in calmer water with good holding. We watched carefully for a number of hours before we were able to get a good night's sleep, and left early the next morning.

ALOR WELCOME: We had a wonderful stay in Kalabahi, Alor Island. The anchorage was too crowded, but we managed to escape without dragging or hitting anyone. The dinghy landing was much better than Kupang: they had built a little dock for us and there were lots of dinghy boys to help us. Lots of kids paddled to our boats so we were busy giving away note pads. Later on shore, we were autographing those same note pads - just like rock stars. I drew Bugs Bunny in the books so I was very popular. Our first night there, we had the usual chicken-fried rice for $.60 a serving at a hut along the shore. The lights failed a couple of times and the locals yelled "Oh my gawd" in English and then laughed heartily. That was the only English they knew.

The next morning we had the tradition "welcome" - speeches, drumming and dancing, free woven scarves, snacks and water. First, though, a decorated dug-out canoe came and picked up our "king" (the captain of the first boat to arrive), then we all joined the parade in our dinghies. A band was in the lead canoe, and it was quite a festive little parade. After all the ceremonies, one of the guides asked Darrel and me if we wanted to visit a school. We went with him by bus to his old school - 377 kids with 12 teachers - a Muslim school - and we did a question and answer and photo session with two classrooms. Then we had a visit with the head mistress and teachers and were served cake and ice water. We gave small donation to the school, had another photo session, and then signed autographs. Our guide had to drag us away. That night, we had a free gala dinner - delicious food with a yummy BBQ fish, entertainment, speeches, and lots of fun. Like I said, we are being spoiled.

LOCAL CRAFTS?: On August 8 we took a private tour with some friends and a guide to a traditional village - about twenty 3-story thatch huts, paths with short stone walls, a wonderful view of the sea, timid children, and lots of crafts for sale. We were invited into one of the huts - a remarkable piece of workmanship – sturdy, shady and airy. When we left, our tour guide’s "boss" asked us for a ride. With her, she brought a number of sacks of crafts ... it turns out that the "local" crafts had been imported from the main town. Who knows where they were made.

That evening, we went ashore for strawberry smoothies (artificial flavoring) - 20 cents each - and then for the usual 60-cent chicken-fried rice. The beer is the killer - $2 each.

PEACE AND QUIET: We left Alor on August 9, bucking strong currents and then suffering light winds once the current stopped. We motored most the way to a little reef that offered protection from the surge and had good holding. We had a good sleep and left early the next morning, then enjoyed a wonderful sail in perfect winds, passing volcanoes and scenic villages. We then anchored in a protected reef, surrounded by breathtaking scenery, above crystal-clear water, visited occasionally by local fishermen looking for hooks. We have lots to spare. We snorkeled and saw lots of little Nemos. We then decided not to go to the next town where the ceremonies were taking place because we heard on the radio that the anchorage was windy and crowded. We’re tired of that scene. Paradise seemed the right place to stay for a few days.

We then spent a number of days at an island called Pulau Besar and did a lot of snorkeling. We even dove under the boat and gave her a good bottom-cleaning. From time-to-time other members of the fleet would pass through, so we did get some visiting in too. We met some Buddhists on "Calypso Magic" - he is French-speaking Swiss and she is from Thailand - but we still managed to have some meaningful discussions about Buddhism, although we have not converted. I found time to do some baking – a cake and bread – which thrilled Darrel. We saw a lunar eclipse while we where here.

BACK WITH THE FLEET AT MAUMERE: We joined the fleet again at Sea World - a nice resort near the town of Maumere on the island of Flores. Just as we arrived, there was a whirlwind right by our boat. It nearly knocked our neighbor's boat right over, and we just caught our cushions in time before the wind sucked them away. We threw all the cockpit stuff into the cabin and closed the doors, and then the whirlwind disappeared. Another weaker one visited us again a few hours later, but that was the last of them. Sea World had nice dinners in the evenings - $8.50 for the buffet and $9.50 for the BBQ. We nearly didn't go because the price seemed outrageous, but revisited the situation and, considering there was live entertainment and free rice wine, decided it wasn't such a bad deal. It was very delicious, and the entertainment was superb.

We were within walking distance of a fruit and vegetable market, so were able to fill our larder again. The locals were very helpful and friendly. Still no sign of pirates (although a young lad on a canoe stole my crystal from the galley port while we were busy giving away books and pens to his friends. This happened a couple of anchorages earlier). The street was full of small motorcycles - nobody drives a car. We got a good look at the homes and the yards, and while they are very simple, they appear clean and well maintained.

CRATER LAKES: On August 19 we took a tour up to three crater lakes. Breathtaking! One was a brilliant aqua color with veins of yellow sulfur running through it. The surroundings looked like another planet, and the long pathway to the top of the mountain reminded us of the Great Wall of China. We were there at the same time as a Grade 10 class, and again we felt like rock stars - everyone wanted to have their picture taken with us. We were taken to a lovely little restaurant in a little village for lunch - a nice soup and stir-fry. The toilets were interesting: a concrete hole in the ground with a cistern of water with a scoop to flush. Toilet paper and soap were not provided. The long ride there and back (seven hours total) held many views of local life: children carrying their own buckets of water to school (for drinking, washing, flushing), women carrying large loads on their heads, colorful clothes, tidy little huts, millions of motorcycles, a lot of road work - especially bridge-building, rice paddies, crowded local busses with passengers riding on the top, and lots of children waving at us and yelling "Hello Mister". The evening after our tour, we found another great little restaurant on the beach and had fried chicken and potatoes and coke for $9.20 for two. It was by candlelight, with two other couples, long and leisurely and lovely. We had been to a hamburger joint earlier but they ran out of meat, which turned out best for us.

MAUMERE WELCOME: August 20 was the official welcome. We were once again treated to brilliant entertainment, a nice meal, plenty of speeches, and a big party afterwards. The Kiwis put on a show for us two - a Maori war dance - which was very entertaining. Another cruiser put on a bit of a show when a woman spanked his badly-behaving 2-year-old. There was a scuffle between him and her and her husband, all the while the 2-year-old screaming in the background. I'm sure the locals were impressed. At this same event, I sang some harmony on stage with a Japanese cruiser (a lovely gentleman named Aki who has sung with me on our boat) - "Amazing Grace" and "You are My Sunshine". No one threw rotten vegetables or threatened to spank us.

Next day, Darrel made us a pancake breakfast, and then we had a leisurely day ashore, watching canoe races, swimming in the resort pool, visiting with locals and some tourism students who wanted to practice their English, taking dance lessons from some village women, and trying to give reading glasses to a very kind gentleman with poor eyesight. They didn't help him, much to our regret. That night, the locals put on another show for us but no one had thought to tell the fleet, so no one went. Such a shame. We were on the boat enjoying some BBQ Aussie steak, making an effort to empty our deep freezer so we can shut it off and save battery power.

SHORT STAY AT MUASAMBI: We missed the rally welcome and free meal in Muasambi (Flores Island). The anchorage was very rolly, lots of surge, and there wasn't a good dinghy landing, so we left after two nights. Many others attended the events but we have decided to avoid possible dinghy tosses.

LINGEH BAY: Our anchorage on August 25 was full of kids! Canoe after canoe visited CanKata and the nine other boats with her. I got them to sing their national anthem and it was wonderful hearing their sweet little voices proudly singing the song that sounds a little bit like the theme song to Star Wars. We were kept busy giving away treats, but they were very good when we asked them to go away so we could eat and shower. No little thieves. And it was an extremely calm spot - a nice change from Muasambi. But the constant stream of visitors did get tiring after a while, and so we only spent one night there.

PULAU SABABI (Gili Bodo): We stayed at this anchorage for a number of days, because this is the type of spot that we dreamed of when we first considered cruising … calm, remote, great snorkeling, with monkeys on the beach, a few other yachties, peace and quiet, and perfect weather.

IN GENERAL: We have had zero luck fishing. We have had superb weather - no rain except for a bit of mist when we visited the crater lakes. Sailing has been pretty good - we've had to do a fair bit of motoring in calm seas, but have also had some good winds with fair seas.

So it has been pretty eventful in Indonesia so far. Despite everything, or maybe because of everything, we have not lost our enthusiasm.

Paper Rock Scissors – Rules of the Road

By Darrel

After having been in Indonesia now for more than two months and having utilized a number of different modes of transportation, i.e., cars, busses (large and small), bemos (modified passenger vans), motorcycles, scooters, and becaks (cycle driven rickshaws), I think I have finally figured out Indonesian road rules. If I wanted to confirm my belief I could ask some of the 11 year old scooter drivers that we have seen. If the driver could not answer my question, perhaps one of the other four passengers on the scooter could answer. In actual fact we have seen five people on one motorcycle, two adults and three children.

But what is really amazing about road traffic here is that the rules are quite different from other countries we have traveled. Some of the roads have white dotted lines but I am not sure the purpose of those lines. For certain it is not the same purpose as what we are used to in Canada. Here is a typical scenario that you can frequently come across. You may be traveling down a two lane highway, and I use that term loosely since it is a very narrow, but well paved road, without any shoulders. For most part everyone keeps to the left side of the road but when you come to an intersection or a connecting laneway there may be motorcycles coming out from the left intersecting road directly into the right hand side of the right lane, until such time they find a safe opening to cross over into the left lane. Another common situation is a vehicle moving into the center lane at which time the driver gives a short tap of the horn, thereby making the narrow two lane highway into a three lane highway. In this case the smaller vehicles move over to the outside of their lanes and the larger vehicle slides through the gap. If the vehicles will not fit three across then the smallest one will adjust its speed accordingly. All of this is done smoothly without any signs of road rage, honking or stress – totally unheard of elsewhere. By the way this last scenario can take place at any time or location. We have been passengers on a large bus where the driver did this just as he was reaching a curve in the highway blinding his vision from what was coming from the other direction.

Now because there are approximately 179,999,999 motorcycles to serve the 180 million Indonesians, or so it seems, there is also a hierarchy for motorcycles. For example if you are on a motorcycle which is carrying crates of eggs, chickens, firewood, or long lengths of timbers (all of which we have seen), then you will be treated like the next largest vehicle and given the right of way by other motorcycles. I imagine this would also apply if the driver is still of the age where they could be wearing diapers although that is something that I have not yet seen.

So as best as I can make out, driver education here must be based on the Paper, Rock and Scissors philosophy and, on the Indonesian roadways, you really have to know how to play the game.

The most amazing part of this system is how well it works. I was not able to determine the road accident rate but in all of our travels we never saw any close calls or accidents.

ADVENTURES IN INDONESIA PART II – Sept.-Oct. 2008

LABUHAN BAJO: After our rejuvenating stay at Gili Bodo, we continued on to Labuhan Bajo. This was an interesting city with great restaurants, interesting little shops, an ATM, internet, a friendly and efficient harbor master, and a wonderful boat boy who got us beer, Coke, diesel and our laundry done. When I went grocery shopping, one clerk took my list and tried to find the items for me (nearly impossible since the list included non-Indonesian things like olives, butter, cheese and mayonnaise) and another clerk pushed the cart for me. The two were thrilled when they were able to find honey, sardines, flour and sugar for me. They also tempted me with rice crackers and banana chips, which I happily added to the cart. It’s the best service I’ve ever received in a grocery store, and we didn’t even speak each other’s languages.

We spent one night in the city’s harbor and then joined up with the rest of the fleet at a nice anchorage in front of a pretty “eco” resort that had a cozy lounge and dining room and a swimming pool that they let us use. This was also the vicinity of the official welcome ceremony.

WHIP DANCING AT LABUHAN BAJO: The official welcome included a demonstration of the Indonesian “whip dance”. It was actually a traditional fight. It lasted for hours, and there was a lot of posturing going on ... Mohammed Ali type dancing and blabbering and tormenting of opponents. A number of fighters took turns - one on one. The whipper got one chance only to whip his opponent, who was carrying a shield and pole for protection. Most whips were stopped, but the odd one got through, either creating a horrible welt or, a couple of times, breaking the skin. The latter is seen as a good thing ... it means that the harvest will be good. Apparently, men with scars from the whip dances are regarded as heroes. We stayed and watched the whole show, which was put on especially for the rally boats, but we have mixed feelings about how much we enjoyed it. Afterwards, we strolled around and met the students who were going to put on a song-and-dance show for us. I asked them if they would sing me the Indonesian national anthem, which they did, and I still get goose bumps remembering it: such beautiful voices, such beautiful harmony. They then put on their show, and the meal that followed was wonderful, and again the locals were very friendly and hospitable. "Tell your friends to come here" was their final plea. You should go there.

KOMODO DRAGONS: From Labuhan Bajo, we visited the Komodo National Park on Rinca Island and saw Komodo Dragons, which are large lizards up to nine feet in length and 220 pounds in weight. They are meat-eaters so we had to keep a good distance from them especially knowing they can run 18 Km per hour. Of the nine we saw, two were mating. Talk about stamina: the male can last up to three hours. Once the kiddies are hatched they run for the trees where they live for the first five years of their lives to avoid being eaten by an adult dragon. We saw no youngsters being eaten, but fellow-cruisers witnessed a buffalo getting gobbled up.

After that we had a number of day trips, staying at anchorages that were very varied: some with fantastic snorkeling, some with pesky youths who actually stole things off a boat or two (not ours), some with beaches that we could swim to, some that were deserted and quiet, some that had a few other yachties that we partied with, and some with hundreds and hundreds of "flying foxes" (fruit bats) flying overhead at sunrise and sunset. At some of the anchorages, we could hear chanting from shore: it was Ramadan and there are many Muslims in Indonesia. During Ramadan, Muslims fast during the day, and pray loudly at night.

GILI AIR – September 11: On the journey to Gili Air, we ate the last of our Australian meat but caught a Dorado, which saved us from having to fast along with the Muslims.

Gili Air was one of our favorite spots: we spent five days there and fit in snorkeling, scuba diving (Darrel), three very cheap meals ashore, replenishment of diesel, jelly fish stings (Darrel), a tour of Lombok, and the official Sail Indonesia welcome ceremony (very modest because of Ramadan).

Sunsets at Gili Air were spectacular.

LOMBOK ISLAND: The tour of Lombok Island (we got there by water taxi and then six of us hired a car, driver and tour guide) included a visit to the jungle where the grey monkeys were - so sweet! Our friends fed them peanuts, and the monkeys (moms, babies, dads, grandpas, teens) were very polite - gently taking the peanuts out of our friends' hands. I squatted down so I was at their level, and a few came and sat around me. I held out my hand and one gently stroked it with his fingers. I handed one a leaf, but he just looked at it and threw it down with disgust. I handed another a stick, and he started brushing his teeth with it. They were peaceful until a couple of young local lads started approaching. The monkeys immediately started screaming, and the lads backed off. The monkeys were at peace again, until the lads started approaching again. More screaming. The lads stayed away, and then everything was fine. We suspect the lads were probably bullies, but I dare say the monkeys would win any scuffle with them.

We were taken to a wood carving store, where of course we spent some money, then to a temple where we had to pay for a temple guide. Our friends also paid for a visit to the "holy eel" (we have seen plenty of eels, all seemed holy enough) which included an egg to feed it and a priest to pray to it. They never saw the eel ("maybe because it is Ramadan" said the priest) and never got their money back. The temple was run down and unspectacular so we cancelled our visit to the second one. We did go to the "water palace" which was also run down and unspectacular, but we had learned our lesson and did not pay for a special guide or food for holy eels.

We also visited a village where they weaved special cloth. The weaver got a couple of our friends, Tom and Nicolette of S/Y Katanne, to model some fancy dress, and they ended up looking like an Indonesian king and queen. Then we were off to the local market where we got a kilo of tomatoes for 50 cents and eight mangoes for 70 cents. After that, our driver took us to "The Mall" where all the eateries were closed because of Ramadan, except for McDonalds! Yes, we managed to get a Big Mac but no shakes, but they did have chocolate sundaes. Then we stocked up on groceries, took the water taxi back to our boat, and enjoyed tomatoes and mangoes in CanKata's cockpit while watching the sun set.

LOVINA BEACH, BALI: Canada represented Sail Indonesia at this location, and Darrel was selected to give the speech at the welcome dinner on September 18 (which was delicious, incidentally). He did a great job and got lots of laughs and is now best friends with Gede, the director of tourism. His name is pronounced "G'day". So when we asked him his name, he said "G'day" and shook our hands. We shook his hand back and said "G'day, but what is your name?" He replied "G'day" and we said more slowly, "G'day, but what is your name?" He answered in perfect English, "My name is Gede" and let out a big chuckle because he knows that we've all sailed from Australia and that we’re accustomed to "G'day mate". He was a tease. Darrel was presented with a big wooden statue for his efforts, and it is lovely but BIG.

Once again, I asked the tourism students to sing the national anthem, and again got goose bumps from their wonderful rendition.

What a wonderful island Bali is, and what a special place Lovina is. Restaurants and the local beer are plentiful and cheap. We ate our main meal ashore everyday. There were stalls everywhere with cheap fruit, batik clothing, wood carvings, shell and silver jewelry and a million other things ... it was hard to convince the sellers that we didn’t need it all. The area that we were in was far from city hustle and bustle, and very relaxing. We took a one-day island tour and had our breath taken away by the spectacular scenery -- so lush and mountainous. We saw many more monkeys, water falls, a water temple, twin lakes, botanic gardens, a coffee plantation, clove trees, hot springs, and a pretty amazing Buddhist temple. That night there was some local entertainment on the beach at the anchorage, but when they started getting cruisers up to dance we made a quick getaway.

NOW ABOUT JAVA: What a trip! We left from Lovina on September 21 … 18 hours on the bus (and a ferry) each way, but lots to look at even in the dark. We stayed in Yogyakarta in a nice little hotel ($12 a night) with a swimming pool, breakfast and afternoon snack included. We had friends in the anchorage watch CanKata for us, and four other couples came with us.

The hotel was close to city sites, so we took rickshaws (the tricycle kind) to the museums, palaces, markets, puppet-making demonstrations, batik demonstrations, and a bird market. Our driver was an older man, the weather was extremely hot, and he couldn't drink water because it was Ramadan. We gave him a big tip.

For the two main attractions a couple of hours away, we hired a driver and 12-person van. We saw a huge ninth-century Buddhist temple (Borobudur) that had been buried in volcanic ash until a short while ago, and a huge ninth-century Hindu temple (Prambanan) that has been badly damaged by earthquakes, the latest being 2006. Both temples are awesome, but we had to climb a lot of steps! The intricate stone carvings are surprisingly sharp and detailed for their age. We then went to an outdoor garden for a buffet dinner with traditional Indonesian food, then to an outdoor theater for the Ramayana Ballet which tells the story of a prince and his kidnapped princess and the war to win her back. Everyone, including Darrel, loved the show and was impressed with the music and dancing, especially when they burned down the village that they had set up on the stage. It was a long day and the hotel greeted us with hot tea, cold beer and snacks. It was a longer bus ride back to Lovina, and we were happy to see CanKata safe and sound in the anchorage.

ORANGUTANS: After a pleasant sail from Bali to the Kumai River in Borneo, we had an incredibly memorable trip up the Sekonyer River October 2-4 to see the orangutans. The first station we went to - Camp Leakey - was founded in 1971 by a Canadian woman.

We had a 3-hour ride on a motorized river boat - 3 of us and the 4 crew - Guide Eddy, Captain Azis, Chef Yuni and Helper Anang. The meals were superb, and poor Yuni couldn't even stand up straight in her little galley down below. We 3 slept on the covered top deck under mosquito nets and the crew slept down below. We didn't get any rain, which is a little lucky since the wet season has started. The river was narrow and beautiful, although very brown. When we went off on a small tributary, its water was tea red, and where the two met up the water swirled and made interesting patterns with the two colors. The shore was mostly nipa or pandanus (palms).

Day One we visited Camp Leakey after lunch and were entertained by a number of female orangutans and their babies and the odd male. They are shorter than us but with much longer limbs, and 8 times stronger. No tails. They swing along the tops of the trees with amazing grace, precision and strength. We were supposed to keep our distance, but when I was sitting on a bench, a female with her baby came right up next to me. A man next to me touched the hand of the baby (he said it was very soft) but I didn't want to annoy the mom. It was pretty awesome. The "rangers" who fed the orangutans (we weren't allowed) didn't look much like rangers ... they looked more like young rough-necks looking for trouble. They were polite in an unfriendly sort of way, and a few of them tormented the orangutans. I had to reprimand one who offered a cigarette - lit end first - to one of the females. Not appropriate ranger behavior.

That night we taught the Captain and Guide how to play cards and had a great time with them, although at one point, as a loser, I had to stand on my head while singing Dixie.

The next day was jam-packed: noodles for breakfast; another camp with a few more orangutans (and a chipmunk and a breed of cats with no tails), a reforestation spot (iron and rubber trees) that was deserted that day so Darrel and I bathed in the creek; a once-luxurious tourist lodge that is now very worn out; a strange village with incredible infrastructure consisting of canals and sidewalks of inter-locking pavers but no roads and just a few run down shacks but a nice community hall; another camp with scads of mosquitoes and just one more orangutan who was the best tree-traveler we saw; a pack of dozens of acrobatic proboscis monkeys of which the males have the ugliest noses and who all quarreled very much over their places in the tree tops; and, while we were travelling down river in the dark finding a good place to tie up for the night, a number of trees absolutely loaded with fireflies. It was like a trip down Christmas Lane.

Next morning we returned to our boat, which had been guarded round-the-clock by a local lad who stayed in the cockpit and did some boat polishing for us. The crew of our river boat asked for a tour of CanKata, so we invited them all aboard and found a few gifts for them. They really treated us like royalty during our tour and we will remember them forever.

Orangutans are found only on Borneo and Sumatra, and proboscis monkeys are only on Borneo, so we're glad we visited.

TOUR OF PANGKALAN BUN, BORNEO: This was a city tour that took place just after our orangutan tour. It was pretty typical except for a run up the city river on motorized canoes (three yachties per boat). It was amazing to see how the people lived on the muddy brown water of the river - using it to bathe, as a toilet, for cooking, for growing vegetables, for fishing, etc. Most of their shacks were suspended over the water. What was surprising about the tour was the number of people who were lined up along the river to greet us. Some little children attempted to swim out to touch us. One little girl, maybe 10 - it's hard to tell because they are so petite - nearly made it to my boat, and I stretched out and managed to touch her hand. She squealed with delight and made it safely back to shore, thank goodness. That night we were treated to a superb buffet and entertainment at the Yellow Palace, which wasn't like a palace at all, but was at least comfortable and airy. We were also treated to a slide show of murky underwater shots of the fish in the river, during which most of us fell asleep.

BELITUNG: We had a good sail to Belitung. The spot where we anchored is breathtakingly beautiful - a bit like Virgin Gorda in the BVIs. Very little is written anywhere about this amazing spot, but if they did a bit of advertising I'm sure they would have their hands full of tourists. We know they could use the economic lift, but we truly hope they don't lose their peaceful ways, their beautiful beach front, or their wonderful innocence.

The first night we went with friends to a great little beach restaurant run by Rusdi and his family. They served, for very modest prices, crabs, squid, chicken, noodles, water spinach, chips and a variety of rice dishes. Delicious! We went there every day. We became good friends and ended up leaving a lot of gifts behind for them. Friends asked why we didn’t “share the wealth” and eat at some of the other restaurants on the beach, but we seldom have a chance of becoming “regulars” as we sail around the world, so it was nice to eat at a place where the staff and their children gave us hugs. We were there when they got their first big rainfall of the season, and what a joy it was to see them celebrate it.

The welcoming ceremony at Belitung was, like the others, very special: we were treated to a delicious buffet and great local entertainment. As usual, they invited some of us up to sing. I got the yachties to sing Waltzing Matilda and got lots of hugs from the locals for my efforts. That afternoon we had "Miss and Mr. Belitung" (two distinguished young representatives of Tourism Indonesia), their two alternates, and a tour guide visit CanKata. It was a bit rolly and two of the five got a bit green around the gills, so it was a short visit. It was their first time on a yacht like ours and they were thrilled to have visited.

We went on a typical city tour here - Tanjung Pandan - and were taken to a museum/zoo with a captured and very sad orangutan which was a disturbing sight. There were also large birds and crocodiles and, after seeing these magnificent creatures in the wild, it was so sad to see them all caged.

We were also taken to a kite festival where we saw an extremely large kite - it took a few men to handle it, and also another whipping dance where some of the yachties were invited to whip the dancers. Imagine! A friend took part and she lightly whipped a dancer four times and is now regretting it. Even though she didn't hurt him, she wishes she hadn’t let herself be talked into it.

We went to a very peaceful Full Moon Festival in a Hindu village - no whipping there. All the locals where offering up their latest harvest (bananas, oranges, apples, grapes, etc.) to the temple, but saved enough to share with us (their generosity is often overwhelming). The dancing and drumming was sweet - mostly young adolescents - and the costumes were amazing. This event wasn't on our official itinerary, but the locals had begged Sail Indonesia to bring us ... we were the first whites to visit there. We had a police escort, sirens blaring, and once again felt like royalty or rock stars - receiving treatment that we truly do not deserve and are very much humbled by.

TANJUNG KELAYANG BEACH: The special treatment continued back at the anchorage. We had beach dances every night, where local men, women and children constantly asked us up to dance and have photo shoots with them. Our final buffet banquet on the beach was especially delicious, and that night we yachties put on a show for the locals (with help of a translator). We played trumpets, sang songs, read poems, had a flag parade - Darrel carried the Maple Leaf - and did much hugging and crying. I led us all in a couple of rounds of Auld Lang Syne, and through the translator told our hosts that it meant that we would remember the Indonesian People forever in our hearts. And that’s the truth.

One of our US friends, a young man travelling with his dad, is a fireworks maniac, which is expensive for him but great fun for us. They put on a huge show for our final ceremony (we all pitched in money) and the locals seemed to get a big bang out of it. It was a GRAND finale.

Now we have crossed the equator and are back in the Northern Hemisphere, in Malaysia. We are suffering a bit of culture shock, and will tell you all about it in our next updated.

IN SUMMARY: Our trip through Indonesia was incredible ... the Indonesian people are wonderful, warm, generous, more peaceful than any other culture we have met, and we will miss their hospitality and their sweet children. The tours were indelibly memorable, and we hope you got an inkling of what the country is like through our stories. We are glad we joined the Sail Indonesia Rally. There were more than 230 of us in over 115 boats representing Australia, Austria, Canada, France, Germany, Holland, Japan, the Netherlands, New Zealand, Norway, South Africa, Sweden, Switzerland, the USA, Turkey, and the United Kingdom. The size and representation of our fleet meant that the local governments, anxious to promote tourism, felt it was worthwhile to extend an effort to make us feel safe and welcome and to get an impression of their country that we would want to share with the world. And we were impressed. And we would encourage all you world travelers out there to give Indonesia a thought as a vacation spot. We certainly plan to return.

ODE TO THE ORANGUTANS

By our friends Rob and Sue from S/Y Moon Mist (their card says “you have been robbed and sued”).

Written while they were in the Kumai River.

Intrepid sailors that came from the sea

To arrive in the land of the famous monkey

When they got there what did they see

But orangutans climbing the huge native tree.

Upward they climbed to the great canopy

Where they foraged and laughed and swung from the trees

Although they swung and messed around

And finally dropped back to the ground.

With staring eyes the sailors they saw

Those big round eyes, they looked in awe.

These sailors were different they weren’t the same

As the ones with the tractors and the saws with the chains.

For a long time they remembered the people that came

With tools of destruction to kill their domain.

They slowly came closer very timid to see

These sailors like them had a spirit that’s free

They looked and they grinned and held out their paw

And greeted the sailors without a sharp claw.

It seemed as though they knew you see

These people would go and tell their story

It was awesome to sit on the canopy floor

To be accepted by these apes once more.

So all you sailors that do abound

You know you must spread this story around

From north to south and east to west

They must understand conservation is best.

So back on your ships and out to sea

Go tell the story of the great orange monkey.

Adventures in Malaysia – November 2008

DANGA BAY: What a culture shock after Indonesia. On October 26 we anchored beside "Danga World" (just north of Johor Bahru) which has roller coasters, bumper cars, candy floss, a petting zoo, and all the ice cream we could ever want. It’s very safe and convenient: it has an ATM, scads of good restaurants with international cuisine, a free shuttle bus to downtown (with a schedule that the drivers take great pains to ignore), and friendly and helpful security guards. The food is great and affordable. We eat our main meal out all the time and usually have a hard time trying to decide which type of food to eat – Thai, Malaysian, Indian, Chinese, Szechuan, Italian or McDonalds. We have to admit that the golden arches won a few times. A tourist brochure says “you can do it all at Danga Bay as the place literally never sleeps, seriously!” We found that it actually does sleep: from 3:00 a.m. until just before noon. We didn’t go ashore for breakfast.

Danga Bay is pretty dirty, so there was no swimming and no making water, so we caught lots of rain water. The winds were calm and the skies cloudy, so we didn’t generate much electricity either. That’s why eating out all the time seemed like such a good idea.

A NEW CITY: When we arrived, nearby Puteri Harbor Marina sent out a boat to collect us (seven boats arrived on the same day) then deliver us to Customs and Immigration, and they helped us clear in. Then they gave us a tour of their marina, which is still under construction, and which is part of a brand new city that is being built. The money is coming from oil-rich Dubai. It's pretty amazing to see the beginnings of a city. It will contain the government buildings for the state, a university, state-of-the-art medical facilities, a theme park, a number of marinas, parks, a high-rise commercial district, and pretty residential areas, but the developers have sadly discovered that just across the strait, in Singapore, there is a military zone where explosives are set off regularly (maybe more regularly than they used to be). They're not too sure where they should go from here. The economic downturn isn’t helping, either. It would be a shame to see it go bust.

CITY CENTER: It's a short bus ride from Danga Bay to downtown Johor Bahru and to over-air-conditioned shopping malls. The malls look like all the other malls in the commercialized world. The clothing is different (though maybe not - we have no idea what today's fashions are) but everything else is the same. There is no shortage of goods for sale – cosmetics, watches, shoes, more shoes, electronic gadgets, mobile phones, jewelry, did I say shoes?, and two stories of over-air-conditioned cinemas selling caramel popcorn and showing the latest James Bond movie in eight of the theatres. In early November, the Christmas decorations went up and they are playing carols over the loud speakers. It’s ironic: at our government offices in Ottawa we didn’t overtly celebrate Christmas; we celebrated what was called the “Festive Season”. Yet here in a Muslim country, they are playing “O Little Town of Bethlehem” in the malls. And the banners say “Merry Christmas”, not “Festive Greetings”. Strange but true.

THE PEOPLE: Malaysia is more multi-cultural than Indonesia, with influence from India, China, Indonesia and left-over stuff from the Portuguese, Dutch and British. You see more obesity here than in Indonesia, and much more variety is skin color. There are a number of dialects, and many Malaysians speak three languages, English being one of them. Tourism is an important part of the economy, so we were not unique like we were in many parts of Indonesia. But the people were, for the most part, friendly and helpful. We sometimes got grumpy bus drivers but when you read the following scenario, you’ll understand why they didn’t smile at us.

BUS RIDES: We took a lot of busses. We never knew for sure where we were going, and we never know how much to pay on the “exact change only” busses. We usually traveled at peak hours, when Malaysians are in a hurry to get where they are going. The regular commuters quickly hop on the bus, scan their bus passes at one of the many scanners installed in strategic locations on the bus to ensure quick entry, and then grab a handhold to prepare for the bus’s lurch forward into the fast-moving traffic. But then we get on board. “Is this the bus to Larkin Terminal?” we ask. The driver gives us a quizzical look. “Do you go to Larkin Terminal?” we repeat. Another quizzical look. “Larkeen?” we try with the proper pronunciation. “Ah, yes”, says the driver, his foot hovering over the gas pedal, anxious to get his commuters to work on time. “How much?” we ask. “One ringitt twenty”, he says as he does a shoulder check, looking for his opportunity to squeeze into the traffic. We dig into our pockets. We ask our buddies, “Do you have any ones?” They check their pockets. “Yup” they answer and pass us a couple. “Do you have any loose change?” they ask us. We check our pockets and exchange some coins. In the meantime, many of the passengers have fallen asleep and the bus driver has started to read the newspaper, having given up on keeping to his schedule. No doubt they think, by our accents, that we are American. Otherwise, I’m sure they would have thrown us off the bus. The world is very happy that Obama will be the next president, and we are reaping the benefits. Busses still stop for us.

THE SULTAN’S MUSEUM: On November 2 we toured the Sultan's Museum and were dismayed to see his ashtrays made out of elephant legs. There was a lot of gold, silver, porcelain, crystal and other beautiful and exotic valuables locked in glass cabinets; but what we will remember is the stuffed animals … elephants and tigers that no longer roam through the jungles that once existed here before they planted every available acre with palm trees for the palm oil industry. We were actually not allowed to take photographs in the hunting gallery, but we managed to sneak a few before the guard came and shooed us away. He carried a big gun, so we didn’t argue.

SINGAPORE: We left on November 3 at 6:00 a.m. to catch a bus downtown to catch another bus to the Republic of Singapore. It is an island just south of Malaysia, joined by a causeway. In the early 1800s Singapore was basically a swamp with a few fishing villages. Then Britain developed it into a major international trade center and seaport, and now it is Southeast Asia’s most important seaport, financial center, and manufacturing hub, and has one of the world’s highest standards of living, so we decided to pay it a visit.

Our bus ride across the border had two stops - Malaysia and Singapore Immigration - and by 9:00 we were in the heart of Singapore taking a scenic river cruise. It's an impressive city - very clean and orderly with wonderful architecture. It used to be illegal to chew gum and for men to have a pony tail. It has been described as “a fine city … they’ll fine you for just about anything”. The government is very concerned with the behavior of its citizens, and is not afraid to punish when the rules aren’t followed. It claims that its strict laws and sentences have made the nation one of the safest places in the world.

We found it expensive. After the costly river cruise, we walked around town trying to find an affordable hotel, and finally found one in China Town for $100, breakfast included. Then we paid a good deal of money to go on the Singapore Flyer - not quite a Ferris wheel, more like a circular cable car – that went 165 meters high. We got a great view of the city. Next day we took the MRT (rapid transit system) and visited Changi - a WWII Japanese prison turned museum, then toured China Town and Little India and the city center, and then caught a surprisingly affordable cab back to Malaysia and did drive-by immigration ... very convenient. The cab took us right to our dinghies. While it was a costly two days, we’re glad we went. Just seeing and using their impressive and efficient MRT made it worthwhile.

OBAMA: We listened to the BBC news coverage of the US election. It was very exciting to hear history in the making. We're amazed at the world’s response. People who mistake us for Americans give us the thumbs up and congratulate us. The news coverage here was extensive. I think it will be talked about for a long time.

LIGHTENING: On November 5, Sail Malaysia organized a press conference where we yachties were treated to a free lunch and then a tour of a fish farm. While this was going on, lightening struck one of our buddy boats and he lost all his electronics. It'll probably cost him about $20,000 US to replace what he lost. Now we're all pretty nervous whenever there's an electrical storm. When we hear any thunder, we shut off our main switch for electrics, and then pop the computer in the oven and our handheld electronics into the microwave. We have wrapped foil around a number of electronic gadgets but mostly we rely on keeping our fingers crossed and knocking wood – two methods we use regularly to ward off a number of evils.

KUALA LUMPUR – November 7: We decided to visit Kuala Lumpur (KL), the capital of Malaysia, while we were waiting for the rally events to start in Danga Bay. We went with another couple and took a 4-hour bus ride ($10 per person each way) so that we could see the world’s largest twin tower building. The eighty-eight storey Petronas Towers each measure 1,483 feet and are noteworthy for their modern materials, including bands of stainless steel, and for how they echo traditional Malaysian architecture. They have a great interpretive centre that even includes a lightening display, although we’ve had plenty of true-life displays. Visitors can go up to the skywalk on the 40^th floor, but we got there too late to get tickets. Instead, we went up the KL Communication Tower - just a little shorter than Toronto's CN tower – to get a 360 degree view of all the beautiful buildings in KL and a striking view of the Petronas Towers. We also had an Indian lunch and went for a walk through a city forest which seemed a little silly after being out in real jungles. We got back to the boat at midnight and only had to bail out a bit of rain water from the dinghy. We were in a very safe anchorage so felt comfortable leaving our boats behind.

MOVIE TIME: Something we don’t do very often is go to movies. But friends wanted to see the latest James Bond movie and it sounded like fun, so we took the bus from Danga Bay into Johor Bahru and nearly froze to death in the over-air-conditioned cinema. We were happy to see they had popcorn, but it had caramel on it. It was a very modern establishment – about 15 theatres on two floors. The price was reasonable – less than what we would pay in Canada for a matinee – and the seats were very cozy. But we should have worn jackets. We had bought the earlier James Bond movie on DVD, so were able to follow the story. Although not 007 fans, we did enjoy the new versions.

SAIL MALAYSIA RALLY: The rally organizers treated us very well during the official events on November 14-16. We paid $50 to join, and received a free luncheon, a rally flag, two t-shirts, two ball caps, lots of information, a free tour of the area that included free snacks at a couple of spots, and a big dinner with speeches, entertainment and dancing, and lots of free beer. And that was just the first of four stops!

MELAKA: On our way to Lumut, we stopped at Malaysia’s first city – Melaka. It was once the most vital port on South-East Asia, and is now a touristy spot full of interesting architecture, traces of Dutch presence, monuments and antiques. We filled our day with a double-deck bus tour, a river tour (where the entertaining guide said thank you in fifty-eight different languages, including Canadian, eh), a walking tour, Church visits and a look in the maritime museum. Probably, and unfortunately, the most memorable part of the day was landing our dinghy at the police dock (very courteous of them) just as the toilet was flushed right into the river, close to us, at low tide.

LUMUT: We had eight day sails (average seven-hour days) up to Lumut, the second stop. It was okay there, but without a nice beach for swimming. We only swam once on our trip to Lumut ... these aren't nice cruising grounds like Indonesia. We managed to have one beach barbecue on a smelly beach with a bunch of cow dung and millions of sand fleas. No swimming. We'll be scratching our bites for a while.

The rally dinner was exceptionally good and we got gift bags with more ball caps and some sun visors and snacks, and the tour included a trip through mangroves filled with monkeys, so I was thrilled. We also saw some monitor lizards at a snorkeling park (it was pretty bad - no one snorkeled) and were treated to a wonderful Malaysian lunch that included some delicious Thai dishes. Food seems to be a theme here. We went to a turtle sanctuary and actually got to release some of a new hatch into the ocean. Everyone fears that we have simply released the little gaffers to their death, but I’m pretty sure mine survived.

A TWO-HOUR TOUR: While in Lumut, we took the ferry to nearby Pangkor Island. There were six of us, and we had planned to rent motorcycles. When we got there, there were big black clouds overhead, so we thought maybe hiring a taxi for the day would be better.

We negotiated with one driver and agreed on 80 Ringgit (RM) for the day (about $27C) but then decided to go for a coffee first. When we were done, we couldn't find our original driver and couldn't negotiate the same deal. The drivers we talked to didn't want to negotiate anything more than two hours for a cost of 60RM. "Is small island, no need more than two hours!" they would argue. We had a number of them huddled around us, and they all agreed. Two hours was enough. "But we want to spend the whole day touring the island", we tried to explain. "Two hours plenty!!" was the answer.

Then our German friend Rosie said, "I think the clouds are blowing the other way. Why don't we hire motorcycles?" But our Aussie friend Tim disagreed. "No mate, I think they're coming this way. We better hire a taxi". Then we went back to arguing with the drivers. Them: "Two hours enough!" Us: "All day!" They won. We figured that if, after the two-hour taxi tour, we wanted to see more, we could go back to our original plan and hire motorcycles, as long as it wasn't raining.

Our first stop was the Dutch fort. There wasn't much to look at, but we met an interesting bunch of university students who we chatted with. We also had a photo shoot with them, and I got them to sing their national anthem. Noting how much time we were taking, I whispered to my friend Barb, "The taxi driver just doesn't understand what kind of tourists we are". We ambled back to the taxi and asked the driver to take us to Tiger Rock. He misunderstood and took us to Tiger Rock Inn, which was a private little villa up in the jungle with loudly barking guard dogs, but we thought we were at the right place and were wondering around looking for some sort of sacred rock, when the owner comes to us and asks us what the heck are we doing on his grounds and don't we know these are vicious guard dogs, but then he relaxed and laughed when we told him what we were looking for. He let us tour around the place, which had beautiful little ancient lane ways dating back to the time the Dutch were on the island. The grounds were incredibly lush and the swimming pool very tempting. We also saw our first hornbills there. All in all, we spent a good deal of time on an unplanned stop. The six of us smiled knowingly at each other. “The taxi driver just doesn’t understand” was our mantra.

We did find Tiger Rock and spent a bit of time taking photos of it. Barb told us the story: a Dutch girl went missing; the Dutch believed the locals kidnapped her but the locals said a tiger must have eaten her. So the Dutch dedicated a large rock to her and engraved it with a tiger and a child.

Next stop - Foo Lin Kong Temple - a Buddhist temple with lots to look at - giant gold fish, a look out, the temple itself, a miniature Great Wall of China, and a caged monkey. ("Don't look at it Loretta", our friend Mike warned. But I went to look anyway and the poor monkey looked so sad and listless ... of course: all his buddies are swinging free in the nearby trees). We spent extra moments trying to find the giant gold fish in the murky pond, and knew for certain at this point that two hours wasn't going to be near enough.

The driver then took us to the beach. We had brought our swim suits but the water wasn't very inviting. We noticed friends anchored out in the bay, so Tim gave them a call on his hand-held VHF radio and had a little chat. We noticed the taxi driver looking at his watch. We ambled back to the taxi, climbed in, and then enjoyed a drive around the rest of the little island. There wasn't much else to see, except for a short stop at a ship building plant. Before we knew it, we were back at the taxi stand. Total time lapsed: two hours. And it didn't rain. But we had seen everything we wanted, so we stopped for lunch, bought some fruit and veggies, and then took the ferry back, all the while laughing at ourselves. It was a wonderful two-hour morning on Pangkor Island.

But we're a determined bunch. The same day, we sailed our boats over to a pretty little bay at Pangkor Island. The next morning, we went ashore, hired motor cycles, and spent the day touring. We revisited all the spots (we had a number of other friends with us) and spent extra time watching a ship being built, then revisited it after it had been launched. I did not visit the monkey again. Other than a flat tire and one small spill (neither happening to us), it was a wonderful tour. We topped it off with a huge feast at an outdoor Chinese restaurant where the food bill was about $3C per person. We love Pangkor.

GEORGE TOWN, PENANG: It was a long sail from Pangkor to Penang Island – 12 hours – and we had light winds so had to motor-sail most of the way. Most boats went into the marina, but CanKata and a couple of others anchored out. It was a good anchorage, and we were allowed to use the marina facilities (including dinghy dock) for a small fee. We stayed in Penang for over two weeks and did lots of touring - the National Park, a lighthouse (the most difficult to access by land), the war museum, temples, a culture festival, restaurants, and shops. Penang is called the “Pearl of the Orient” but we were disappointed with the beaches and didn’t swim there. However, it is a beautiful spot with lots of history and culture, so every day we would spend a few hours wandering the streets of George Town, enjoying the exotic sounds and aromas of Little India and the interesting shops in Chinatown. Eating ashore was a daily event for us, with tasty meals with a couple of iced-lemon-teas costing the two of us roughly $5 Canadian total.

NOT TANDOORI: We went to an Indian restaurant one afternoon for tandoori chicken, but it wasn't available until supper time. So we ordered something else, name now forgotten, and when we got it we thoroughly enjoyed it (although it was only one dish ... we supposed we were to share). Then the waiter brought us two big dishes of food. "What's this?" we asked. "It is what you ordered", we were told. "Well, who ordered this then?" we asked as we pointed to the nearly empty plate we had been eating from. "I do not know" was the answer. But it was all smiles as he took back one of our plates, and we enjoyed sharing the second dish, although we had to admit the other unfortunate person's order was better than ours.

The Penang rally tour and dinner were great, and we now have a few more ball caps and t-shirts to add to our collection.

LIGHTHOUSE ENTRANCE: When we toured the National Park in Penang, we undertook the long trek up to see the lighthouse, but we were slightly dismayed to discover that is was fenced and locked. “Open 9:00 until 2:00” the sign said. It was 11:30 but no sign of any caretaker. Just at the bottom of the path, we had noticed a man taking a bath in his front yard. We discretely ignored him, but perhaps we should have greeted him. It turns out he was the caretaker. But no worries mate. We sat on the entrance steps and had a light lunch, and just as we were finishing, the freshly-bathed caretaker arrived with his two children and a hammer. The hammer was to break the lock on the gate, but unfortunately he broke the hammer rather than the lock. He climbed the barbed-wire fence, entered the lighthouse and came back with a bigger hammer, which he handed to Darrel. Darrel then proceeded to break into the grounds under the supervision of the caretaker. We had a lovely tour, guided by a clean man and his two children, none of whom could speak English.

THE LANGUAGE: English has worked its way into the Malaysian language. But the clever Malaysians have changed the spelling to make more sense. Here are some foreign words that we are sure you will understand (note the “i” has an “ee” sound and the “c” has a “ch” sound):

Zukini Brokoli Tiket Butik

Basikal Besbol Bir botol Teksi

Cek Ceri Farmasi Sos

Fotokopi Jus Kualiti

Mekanik Minit Muzik

Porselin Sosej Hoki ais (which every Canadian should guess)

OVERALL: Our Malaysia experience has been different from Indonesia - we've been visiting cities rather than villages. Swimming and beach combing were virtually non-existent for us. Malaysia is much more modern and multi-cultural (Malay Muslims, Chinese Buddhists, Indian Hindus) with a lot of English being spoken and a few Christian churches sprinkled around. Christmas is widely celebrated. Although the Japanese occupied Malaysia during WWII (with their treatment of the Allied prisoners of war notoriously brutal), there are few of them around now. There are lots of tourists, so we don’t stand out like we did in Indonesia. Malaysia is pretty laid back and this is unfortunately sometimes evident in maintenance of buildings and infrastructure, although transportation by land or air or ferry is very up-to-date and convenient. Medical care is very good according to other cruisers. Customs and Immigration was a breeze – what a nice change from Australia and Indonesia. Sailing was difficult – winds were generally not in our favor and there was often debris and fish traps to watch for. Anchorages provided good protection and holding, but the beaches and water were unappealing. We are expecting better in Langkawi.

An Interesting Question

An Australian friend told us of a conversation she had with a well-traveled Indonesian. He wanted to know how she and her husband were enjoying their travels through his country. She told him that they were thoroughly enjoying the sights and food and anchorages, and then she said that mostly it was the heart-warming welcome from the people that touched them the most. She went on to describe how all of us yachties have been deeply moved by the hospitality of the Indonesian people. “That’s very interesting”, he replied. Then he paused for a few moments. “It is wonderful that my people have been so welcoming. But I have a question. When I visit your country, why am I greeted with such hostility?”

Our friend was stunned. But she knew his question was relevant. With tears in her eyes, she answered that she could not provide any excuse for her countrymen. “I’ll make you a promise, though”, she said. “I promise that when I am back in Australia, if I ever meet Indonesia visitors, I will do everything in my power to ensure they feel welcome”. He smiled and thanked her. May we all learn a lesson from his question.

Until next update, MERRY CHRISTMAS AND HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Loretta and Darrel,

S/Y CanKata

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