1999-2004: The South Pacific 

Jan 9, 2000

Dear Pancho:

The last email you sent me (dated January 5, 2000) had my letter to you attached to it (as usual). Here's what I recommend you do from now on: instead of using the Reply button to respond to a letter of mine, start by writing a fresh new letter, and type in our address (cekedwards@aol.com). It's a little more work on your part, but a little less moola on ours. (Actually, the expense may not turn out to be an issue: I have not yet received a bill from AT&T for the use of my Inmarsat mini-M satellite phone, and I've been using the service for over six months. Here's hoping I've fallen through the cracks in their billing department.) As to your Legato stock inquiry, I have regrettably sold all my shares (that's how I paid for Rhapsodie). Had I kept them all, they would be worth about $12,000,000 today. But then again, I wouldn't be sitting on my fat ass  in Fiji, eating fresh fish and scuba diving every day. Anyway, I still have a hunk of change in Ann Winblad's latest venture fund, so who knows? I could  get lucky again...

We are settling down to a pretty good life here in the Yasawas. We are anchored off Tavewa Island, with another couple of islands within spitting distance. There is always a bit of a breeze to keep us cool, there is a local market for fresh produce, fishermen drop by now and then to sell their catch, there are a couple of backpacker lodges on the islands where we can take meals, and, best of all, amazingly cheap and terrific scuba diving. Great local villages, too. We've been here two weeks, and may never leave. Except, of course, for the hurricanes. We keep a close watch on the weather, and if a hurricane gets within 400 miles of us, we must hightail it back to Viti Levu, motor up the Lautoka River, and tie ourselves down amongst the mangrove trees. Hey, that's what hurricane season is all about here in Fiji for the next few months. The good news is that hurricane season scares off about 95% of the other sailboats, so we pretty much have the country to ourselves.

Oops, Caren just got back from the dive shop with the bad news that they won't accept her in the program without a certificate from her doctor stating that her back is OK for scuba. Bullshit insurance requirement. Now I have to dummy up a medical certificate for her. The things a captain has to do... Stay in touch, good buddy,

Sam

Yacht Rhapsodie 

Fiji

Jan 10, 2000

Dear Pancho:

Congrats! Our letter was included in your most recent email. May I start calling you Mr. Technology?  Good luck with the DEA asshole. If you need any muscle, I've got some Fijian buddies that can be pretty persuasive with machetes.  

Back to checking the weather report — hurricane Iris is passing south of us, and the winds are up to 30 knots. Here's hoping she doesn't change direction...

Love to all,

Sam

Yacht Rhapsodie 

Tavewa Island

Jan 22, 2000

Dear John and Mom:

We just returned to Vuda Point Marina from an idyllic three weeks of cruising in the Yasawa Islands. and lo! What awaits us? a package of mail, cards, and sundry goodies sent from Sharon Oaks Drive by my sweet momma-loo! Thank you, thank you. It is the first "real" mail we have received in over eight months, and it was a joy to touch the paper, smell the ink, crinkie it between our fingers...

So sorry you won't be able to join us in Fiji as part of your Tokyo trip — we understand, but we thought we would give it a try, anyway. The golf course here looks a bit substandard anyway. Too many frogs on the fairways, and sea snakes in the water hazards.

The kids are delighted to be back to the mainland — this is where they have friends, and Friends Are All when you are their age. Caren, on the other hand, opted for staying at a really nice Yasawa Island resort, leaving the boat maintenance work to Mike and me. She will try to get through the next week by staying in a luxury air-conditioned room on the beach. I phoned her last night, and she says that the room service is particularly responsive.She begins a scuba course today, but still hopes to have some time for daily meditation, stretching and massage sessions. She told me not to hurry on the boat maintenance.

We said good-bye to Yann and his significant other, Mickaella, last night. They had spent the last three weeks with us, and they really didn't like the idea of returning to France. But I reminded them that the French economy was depending on their contributions.

After the boat is once more in tiptop shape, we will gather up Caren and head clockwise back around Viti Levu to Savu Savu, our original port of entry some two months ago. We will hang there for a month or two, and then, with the hurricane season behind us, will head further afield.

Love to you both. 

Again, many thanks for the snail mail — it really hit the spot.

Sammy

Feb 16, 2000: Email from John

Dear family, 

So many holidays: MLKJr. Day, Groundhog Day, Valentine's Day, Presidents' Day, Bruce's birthday, Bert's (bless her sweet memory) birthday (today), my big number 80 coming up. Sam and Caren, you have undoubtedly encountered a host of additional holidays/feastdays. A surfeit of days to be marked and celebrated. Some deep thinker has remarked that humans are the only animals that celebrate New Year's Eve. If true, what does this tell us about the human condition? I leave you with this profound question and move on to more trivial matters.

Christmas holiday planning should get under way if there is serious family interest in Hawaii. Len and Inger made enthusiastic noises about spending a week before Christmas in Maui but have lately avoided the topic. Maui is fine with us. My suggestion of the Lake Las Vegas resort was met with hoots of derision. Clods. Another possibility, we could all fly to wherever Sam and his family then will be, assuming that there is a decent hotel there, for a full family reunion and then fly home to deal with the food poisoning and parasites in more familiar surroundings.

My course in Art and the Law, the thirtieth version by my count, is moving along well. My next book, a collection of cultural property/art law essays, which the publisher sort of promised to have out for my birthday, definitely will appear later. Publishers. The monsoons have limited golf, but the matriarch was out there dodging the rain on the links yesterday and we have a tee time reserved on Sunday, just in case the course hasn"t washed away by then.

Len has got us interested in the high tech stock market. I observe that, family loyal as he is, his portfolio still includes LGTO. We have put a toe in the high tech water, anough to experience the ecstasy of a couple of winners and the agony of one loser in the course of a couple of weeks. These stocks certainly move fast.

I am preparing my lectures for the Japan course on "American Law." American law students who are university graduates spend three years learning American law and I am supposed to cover it for Japanese undergraduates in five afternoon classes? We deal here with what some people would call compression but others would less kindly characterize as superficiality. An interesting assignment, which I am actually enjoying, although it's early days still. Nonetheless, superficiality, here I come. Naturally I am thinking about how to make a book out of this. Perhaps with someone else's name on it. We'll see.

Dell now sells something called a "web appliance" for people who are unable to cope with PC's. You plug it in and punch the e-mail button (the one with the big E on it) for e-mail and/or the Internet button in order to websurf. Another company is marketing one that also includes a big P button to order pizza. I am not making this up. I suggested to the matriarch that we get one for her but she resists the idea. Definitely not a techie, but maybe I'll suggest it again when she's in a better mood.

We appear to be in excellent shape. I would have a firmer basis for judgment in a couple of weeks had Dr. Stegman's nurse not called to postpone my appointment for an annual physical. But as far as we can tell we are defying the odds. Relax and enjoy it.

Hugs all around, J.

Feb 21, 2000: Email from John

Dear Sam, 

Your poem on my 80th birthday is of course a masterpiece. Like all celebratory verse, it contains passages that some might consider hyperbole, and there are parts that might not hold up in court. But, unlike all other pieces d'occasion, this one is from you to me, and I am utterly delighted and moved by it, as is you mother, to whom I took the liberty of showing it. I have also forwarded it to Bruce and Len. As to pouring love and wisdom, I don't know about the wisdom, but you definitely got the love part right.

And thank you for the telephone call during the surprise party last night. It supplied an element that was missing from a festive affair. In addition to family there was an assortment of our friends, several of whom, like RE (who also wrote a poem), asked about you. It was good to hear you voice, and Caren's, and to know that you really do still exist and can still speak English.Others who spoke to you gave differing reports of what you said about your plans. Did you really suggest that you might be back by the end of this year?

Sam, my wonderful adventuring son (if I may drop the "step-" this one time) you bring me great joy. 

Love, John

Feb 21, 2000

Dear Sam,

Good idea. The feeling around here is, as it has long been, that you can write and should write and that the sooner you begin finding your own voice the better. The way you do that, as you know, is to write and keep writing and then write some more. It never gets any easier, but it gets better. As Fitzgerald said, there's nothing to it; just sit down at the typewriter and open a vein. On the voice topic, the trick is to stop writing what you think other people expect or want. Of course there is a sly kind of writing that caters to readers' expectations while secretly despising them and, eventually, oneself. That is very unpleasant for all concerned. But if you are not going to tell people what they want, what are you going to write about and, more important, how are you going to write about it, whatever it is? Good questions, which can be paraphrased as: Who am I? What do I want? What am I doing here? What's it all about, Alfie? Such questions easily and quickly lead one to despair and self-doubt. That is where I come in. You have to trust someone. You can trust me. First, you can trust me when I say that I believe you have what it takes to be a real writer. Second, you can trust me to answer honestly if and when you want my opinion. The opinion may not be worth much, because what do I know about writing? but it will be honest.  A journal is, by all accounts, a good way to begin. So begin already.

We want to send some birthday presents. Is your present address (did you catch the subtle play on words there?) still good? For how much longer? What's this I hear about plans to revisit the mainland this summer?

Last Sunday your mother lured me to the Stanford Museum and it turned out to be yet another surprise, a biggie. Two New York friends who are big in the art world, Agnes Gund and Daniel Shapiro, had donated a gigantic Mark di Suvero sculpture to Stanford in my honor. Aggie and Daniel and Mark were all there, and they and representatives of the University and the Law School all said nice things, and I responded but have no recollection of what I said. Then there was a dinner for thirty or so people at Bob and Ruth Halperin's home, at which people made more talks and I again responded. Len and Inger attended both events and said I did not  embarass (sp?) them. I am still trying to take it all in. The sculpture is gorgeous, and it fills a big hole in Stanford's outdoor art collection. To have such friends.It's also great to have great kids. I love and appreciate you, Sam. 

Hugs all around out there, including Mike. 

John

Feb 21, 2000

Dear Boogie:

Just in case you were not actually holding the receiver when I spoke to you earlier today, this email has an electronic "Got You Last" attachment that has already infected you, your computer, your wife, and your progeny to  the twelfth generation.

Bruce, your advanced age has me concerned. I, at 57, find it more and more difficult to perform what used to be simple, unconscious moves. Zipping a fly after urination without catching the penis in the zipper. Cleaning dribble from my vest after the evening meal. Remembering the name of someone to whom I have been introduced three minutes earlier. Picking up the five pound dinghy anchor without developing an arm sprain that lasts for three weeks. What particularly depresses me is that all of these ailments are just the beginning of the end, and that all of them (and worse) will be visited upon you in short order, if you haven't already experienced them. It's genetics and age, Bruce, and they have you by the short hairs.

Me, I am certainly feeling my age. Boat life is rough on the body, and tropical life isn't all fun and roses either. The heat affects me more than most, and this is the summer season, so each day usually gets up to 90 degrees (but you know all about this kind of weather, don't you?) We are almost always able to swim off the boat in gorgeous water, but then the problem of too much sun presents itself. So I'm gradually developing techniques - I should say schedules -- for handling the new life we are all leading. I move a lot slower: I read a lot more; I do boat stuff when the sun is low; I stay up later and get up later; I spend a lot more time just sitting in a nice place looking at a nice view; I spend a whole lot more time with my two children, teaching them, reading to them, just watching them.  Rachael is 10 and Dana is 8, and they have become (by force of circumstances) the best of friends (and, occasionally, the worst of enemies). My favorite images are of the two of them racing around the boat (at anchor), swinging from various lines, diving into the water, swimming under the boat hulls, announcing the discovery of yet one more weird underwater denizen -- and always, of course, completely naked. In fact, I haven't worn a pair of long pants, nor a pair of underpants, nor for that matter a pair of proper shoes, in more than eight months. i find myself getting surprisingly out of shape — life on a boat can be truly the laziest life on earth (especially if you have a young healthy crewman who is constitutionally incapable of sitting still for more than thirty seconds without fixing or shining or building something with his hands). I will probably make the effort to get back in shape in the near future, if only to keep up with the little ones.

My biggest problem is figuring out where to go from here. Caren and the kids — and Mike as well -- see no problem in tooling about the way we have been for several more years. And nor do I. But what then? Back to Portola Valley and two careers and cars and everything else we left behind? Live on a boat the rest of our lives? Find a nice place somewhere cheaper than Portola Valley (that should be easy) where we can settle down and not have to work any more? Some combination of the above possibilities? Here I am, less than a year away from Silicon Valley, and I'm already trying to figure out my future. Why can't I just sit back, relax, and enjoy the good times while Ican? Hey, Bruce, that is easier said than done. What I suspect is happening is that I am transitioning from one life style to another, and I haven't completed the transition. We've talked to many other "yachties", and they all agree that the first six months are the hardest. After that, either the trip is off, or the trip goes on until the money runs out.

So, anyway, life goes on, and continues to be full of surprises. From my conversations with you and Che, it sounds like your lives are full, that you are traveling all over the place, and that your teaching load is immorally low. Good going. And happy birthday. Please let me know if the certificate of 150,000 shares of Microsoft stock doesn't arrive soon — sometimes theFiji postal service is not that reliable.

 Love from the middle son,

 Sam

Yacht Rhapsodie

Fiji

Feb 24, 2000

Dear Big John and Mom, Len and Inger, Bruce and Che, Erik, and Lisa,

Hey, sounds like I missed one hell of a birthday party. I hope you saved some cake for us, because we are indeed heading your way -- in the July/August 2000 time frame, to be exact. We hope to hit the Bay Area, Gold Lake, and both sets of Caren's parents, so a certain amount of scheduling is still before us, but the commitment is firmly in place. It just seems a lot less complicated for us to travel to our families than to have bits and pieces of our families trickling over to this part of the planet.

It is late, I've got lots more email to go, and tomorrow I have to get up early for the workmen, so that's all for now. But you can count on us this summer -- whoopee!

Lots and lots of love,

Sammy

Mar 9, 2000.  Email from Pancho

Sam, 

I'll write a longer one later but want to get this to you before we jet off to Lisbon this night, thence to Madeira and the Azores. I don't have any rock-solid contact points at embassy these days but do know Alice Moore, the Consul General, who would be the American Citizens Services overall contact point for emergency assistance etc. Don Coleman in the Political Section is a close friend and could be helpful if one were browsing the night spots — somehow that doesn't mesh with your probable wishes. I know the Ambassador Richard (Dick) Hecklinger and the DCM, Made Huhtala but not exceptionally well.

Embassy phone number is 662-2054000.

All the best....wow, southern Lau, that is one of the quality remote ones by all (not very many) accounts.

Pancho

Mar 9, 2000

Dear Pancho:

Hey, it's me again. Caren is in New Zealand on shore leave, Mike (our crew) is in Scotland on home leave, I am with the kids on the boat in Fiji: just another permutation in this crazy life we have chosen. These days my life is divided amongst boat repairs, childrens' educations, hanging with locals and those few other crazy yachties that decided like us to spend the hurricane season in Fiji (so far, so good, by the way), lots of reading, lots of snorkeling and scuba diving, and occasional forays into the "real" Fiji. Example: last week the kids and I did Sigatoka, with its pottery villages, Tongan hill fortress, bird sanctuary, and amazing sand dunes. The biggest coup is a permit that has just been issued to me (after many a month of hassling) which permits us to see pretty much all of the southern Lau Islands, which are otherwise off limits to visitors. We hope to spend about two months cruising these islands.

Caren may be in Thailand for a few weeks soon (I will get my turn a bit later); probably Bangkok and points north (temple meditation stuff). If you still have any contacts in the Embassy that she could look in on should the need arise, please let me know of his/her/their names. It never hurts to have Friends in High Places.

Life goes on, Pancho. I can't believe we are already approaching a year aboard Rhapsodie. And that is about how long it has taken for us to accustom ourselves to this most strange way of life. It has its ups and downs, but overall it's been a gas; and it seems to be getting better (translation we're getting better at it). Can't predict where we'll be in the next several years, but we certainly will spend the next several months in Fiji. Beyond that, we have lots of ideas, but no fixed plans.How's life with you? Any new postings on the horizon? Are you healthy and happy? What's happening in the Western World? Who will be our next president? Should I care?

Take care, friend

Sam Edwards

Yacht Rhapsodie 

Fiji

Mar 11, 2000 - Vuda Marina, Fiji

Dear Big John:

Ooops - the date of the very first journal entry was off by one year. Go figure.

Sitting at the terminal again, with a difference: for the first time since we began this trip, I am alone on the boat. Caren is in New Zealand, Mike is in Scotland, Dana and Rachael are staying overnight at Debbie and Dean's house near Lautoka. I am alone on Rhapsodie. So I've gone and invited the other yachties hear at Vuda Marina to join me at 7:30 PM this evening aboard Rhapsodie for a free showing of "Shakespeare in Love". The tape's box says it won a bunch of Academy Awards, plus I am extremely movie-deprived, so I'm sure I'll enjoy it a bunch.

Patty and Rob, aboard Calypte, are a musical sailing couple; they both sing, plus he plays the guitar and she plays the flute. If she comes tonight, I'm going to suggest we get together and play some duets; it's time to grease up the old Haynes!

Dana joined the weekly sailing class at Vuda Marina today, much to my surprise (he's been resisting it for weeks). He was in a little Optimus sailboat with Joe, the middle son of Jeff, the manager of Vuda Marina. Joe is about 6 years old, and small for his age. Joe was at the helm, Dana handled the mainsheet. It was wonderful to watch. They had not a clue what hey were doing, but they had a ball.

Dana is funny with sports. For example, he doesn't know how to ride a bike, and is adamantly opposed to learning how. He's good on rollerblades, though, so what the hell? Also, he's a natural in the water, and, in particular, he is an absolute snuba master.

Snuba? you ask. Ah, one of the top ten Rhapsodie toy purchases. Our snuba setup consists of a little gas engine that drives an air compressor, which pushes air into hoses. The engine and the compressor float in a tire; the hoses, of which there are two, end with regulators just like ordinary scuba  gear. You put one of the two regulators in your mouth, you breathe the air being pumped down from the surface by the compressor, and you float on down to thirty feet or so, and stay there, checking the scene out, for at least an hour. When the engine runs out of gas, you swim back to the surface. Snuba is in some ways better than scuba, in some ways worse. But overall, for kids especially, it is the safest, easiest way to spend time under water.

You should see Dana (and Rachael) snuba. Mike Agnew, who is a Divemaster (qualified to teach scuba diving), and who took Dana on his first snuba dive, said Dana was one of the best students he had ever worked with: cool, smooth, panic-free, and probably more knowledgeable about what he's looking at then 90% of all scuba divers. We have books aboard on fish, plants, reef life,corals, etc., and Dana has devoured them. The guy is an underwater natural.

Mike told me that before Dana did his first snuba dive, Mike explained what to do in case the supply of air ran out (i.e., when the motor runs out of gas): just start to ascend slowly, no faster than the bubbles you exhale; as you ascend, the pressure on your lungs becomes less, the air in your lungs expands, and you must let it out by continuously and gently exhaling. Hey, easier said than done. The normal reaction to your air suddenly running out at 30 feet below the surface is to hold your breath and swim as rapidlyas possible to the surface. Result: you burst your lungs.  So anyway, Dana and Mike are bubbling around at 30 feet when, indeed, the snuba gear runs out of gas. Mike motions with an up thumb for Dana to begin ascending. Dana ascends with Mike, slow and cool, rising with the bubbles he continually blows out of his mouth. Then, oops, he runs out of air to blow out of his mouth. He looks at Mike, mouth pursed, eyes bugged. Mike signals for him to continue to the surface, which he does, still slow and cool, matching his bubbles, but now, of course, out of air. He makes it to the surface, smiles, and asks how soon they could go down again. He's a fish, John.

Sam

Mar 11, 2000 - Vuda Marina, Fiji

Dear John:

For the first time since we left California some ten months ago, I am alone aboard Rhapsodie: Caren is still in New Zealand, Mike in Scotland, the kids with the Jennings. So Rhapsodie hosted a film night. Fellow yachties (Dale and Tex from Camelot V, Patty and Rob from Calypte, among others) arrived at 7:30. Rob brought a kava bowl and some pounded kava, so we started the evening with a proper kava ceremony, passing the coconut shells around, clapping once before each person drank, thrice after each person finished. Dale brought some grilled coconut morsels, and I provided peanuts and Shakespeare In Love. I thought the film a little too clever and somewhat confusing, but I find it hard to fault Shakespeare, so, overall, I'd rate the evening a success.

I had finished reading Lincoln, by Gore Vidal, the day before. It took an effort to get going (like trying to start a recalcitrant outboard motor), but once I was in, I was hooked: one of the most enjoyable books I have read in a long time. The conversations, usually very brief, between Lincoln and his cronies, especially, Seward, are to be treasured. What a wonderful book.

It has rained all day (most unusual), keeping the temperature to a very cool 80 degrees (on sunny days, it is often over 100). I invited Kuji, a Japanese  solo sailor from Shiba, aboard this afternoon, and we discussed life, sailing, and turtles (he was particularly taken with Speedy the Turtle) for a few hours. Kuji's sailboat is about as big as our dinghy, yet he has sailed all over the South Pacific, single-handed, and shows no signs of interrupting his crazy lifestyle. He recommends Vanuatu and certain of the Solomon Islands, and I took notes accordingly. The skipper and skipper's wife of Nomotus came by for a briefing on the Yasawas Islands (we on Rhapsodie are considered the local experts on the Yasawas), and, finally, Captain Tim ofNeal came aboard with his son Adam (Dana's best friend at the marina) and wife Jan, for a discussion of the pros and cons of having computers aboard sailing vessels. Jan had flown in from Pago Pago, American Samoa, the previous evening, While her husband and child malinger in Vuda Marina, she has managed to insert herself into the job assignment of Chief Physiotherapist for the Samoan Olympic team -- if all goes according to plan, she will accompany said Olympic team to Sydney next year for the Olympics, offering back rubs and shoulder therapy to the Samoan weight lifters and hammer throwers. Husband Tim and son Adam are still trying to figure out how  they fit into the picture.

Caren is still in New Zealand, and my sources tell me she is about to extend her absence by flying to Thailand and checking into a temple for a few weeks of meditation. Good for her -- she deserves the break from family, friends, and work.

Mike, on the other, hand, can't wait to get back to Rhapsodie - I think Scotland is wearing him down. If he gets here before Caren, and time permits, the four of us (Mike, Sam, Rachael, Dana) may just take off on our own for a little Fun in the Sun!

The boat is being a boat. The starboard air conditioner blew up yesterday, so I had Shaneel remove the electronics -- here's hoping he can fix the problem. I'm running the water maker for the first time in several weeks so that the membranes don't go bad. There's water in both port and starboard bilges, as there has been for months, but we still haven't figured out where it comes from. The biggest problem right now (and really not that big a problem) is that we cannot run both the fridge/freezer (or "reefer" in nautical terms) simultaneously with the port air conditioning: the filter for the salt water coolant is not big enough to handle both systems. I've ordered a larger filter from Port Supply (wholesale West Marine), thanks to Rob on Carmelite, who has a contractor's license, and when it arrives, we  hope we will solve the problem.

Nicki (Caren's mom) sent us an article from the San Diego Union-Tribune announcing that Tuvalu (a country consisting of a couple of coral atolls, with a total area of about ten square miles, ranking second to Vatican City as the world's smallest nation in population and the fourth smallest in area after Vatican City, Monaco, and Nauru), is about to join the United Nations. I particularly liked the article's final paragraph: 'Tuvalu is believed toearn more than $1 million annually from a 'sex chat' telephone service that pays for permission to use Tuvalu's country telephone code." We will be visiting Tuvalu later this year...

Speaking of breaking news: The Fiji Times of March 8, 2000, has an article describing the burgeoning business of growing coral in nurseries for export to the "lucrative marine aquarium industry". I love this country.

Enough for today. 

I love you, John 

Sam