1999-2004: The South Pacific 

Nov 1999 Email to family from Palmerston Island

Dear family:

The subject title of this email is slightly inaccurate -- we are actually well west of the Cook Islands, en route to Fiji, after spending a good hunk of time in both Western and American Samoa. But I am behind in my descriptions of this westward trek across the South Pacific, and wanted to catch up a bit. Once we get to Fiji, where we hope to hang for several months, I hope to catch up even further.

Let's see -- when I last wrote, we were headed for Palmerston Atoll, one of the more isolated spots in this part of the world. A week earlier we left French Polynesia, and stopped briefly at Aitutaki Atoll, that well-known Cook island north of Rarotonga, the capital. We stopped only briefly at Aitutaki Atoll because (a) we didn't want to check in, that being an expensive and time-consuming bit of bureaucratic nonsense, (b) there is no way in hell we could fit our big fat catamaran into Aitutaki's skinny little reef channel, and (c) we really only wanted to buy some vegetables, and Aitutaki is "famous" for its fresh vegetables. So we anchored outside its reef, lowered the dinghy, and I motored in with the kids to the local market. Well, we didn't exactly clean up on vegetables, but the kids appreciated everybody speaking English instead of French, and we did find some pretty nice carrots, so the stopover wasn't a complete waste of time. Anyway, it felt good to be on solid ground after four days at sea.

So it was back to sea, up with the anchor, and in another two days of sailing we arrived outside the fringing reef of Palmerston Atoll. This place turned out to be amazing. Palmerston Atoll was uninhabited when Captain Cook discovered it in 1774. William Marsters arrived in 1862 to set up a coconut plantation. He brought with him his Polynesian wife and her sister, who were soon joined by a third sister. Marsters married all three, and by the timehe died in 1899 he had begotten 20 children. Thousands of his descendants are scattered around the Cook Islands, throughout New Zealand, and beyond, but the three Marsters branches on Palmerston are down to about 60.

Ships visit Palmerston two or three times a year to bring ordered supplies and to take away copra and parrot fish. William Marsters early on realized how dependent his little island community was on these ships, so early on he set the island policy to be extremely hospitable to all visitors —hospitality begets hospitality, he reasoned: if we're nice to the visitors, they'll be nice to us. Today that policy is still in force, and it works to the benefit of both islander and visitor.

For example: as soon as our boat was sighted, someone came out in a skiff to greet us, show us a safe spot to anchor, and then ferry us through the very tricky pass and to the atoll's only village on Home Island (there are some 35 islands that dot Patmerston's barrier reef, but only Home Island is inhabited). Our host, Karl Marsters, explained that we were his guests; that we were welcome to stay in his home and eat with him as long as we liked; and that if we needed anything at all, to just ask. It took us about five minutes to decide that this island deserved a serious visit. We had planned to stop for the day -- we ended up staying almost a week.

The kids caught onto the Palmerston spirit immediately -- they took off with the local kids, ate their meals with whatever family they happened to be with, slept in a tent right on the beach, and basically had a great, independent time. Caren and I opted to sleep on the boat, taking advantage of this private time to catch up a bit with each other. Mike split his time between the boat and Home Island. We watched the construction of a traditional pandanus-thatched home, helped net parrot fish on the reef, went snorkeling in the passes and the lagoon, had a fish fry with Karl and his fiancee on one of the other islands, and joined in the island's main activity, volleyball, every evening at 5 PM. But when I think back on our stay, what I am struck with is the warmth and serenity of the island's inhabitants. Each time you pass someone you get a big smile, a greeting, and a question: How are you? Do you need anything? Would you like to sit down for a while? So you end up spending a lot of awhiles sitting down next to very nice people, talking about everyday island matters, feeling very good about life. Palmerston has got a great formula for life.

When we left Palmerston we all cried, especially Rachael, who had become very close to a girl her age. We gave lots of clothing, food, a tank of gas - I even managed to fix the computer they use for writing their food orders. William Marsters was right: generosity begets generosity. So far, Palmerston is the best place we have visited.  After Palmerston we sailed on to Pago Pago harbor, on the island of Tutuila, in American Samoa. But that is the subject of the next email.

We are all still well, life on the boat becomes progressively better, and Rhapsodie is proving to be a wonderful home. We are looking forward to a more settled pace of life when we get to Fiji in a few more days.

Incidentally, there is a picture of Rhapsodie on the cover of the November issue off the magazine "Latitude 38", available in marine supply stores such as West Marine and other nautical places. Somebody might want to drop in and get a free copy. It was taken by one of our crew members in the Marquesas, and there is even some text about us, but we haven't seen it yet. If you could get ahold of a copy and save it for us, we would be most appreciative.

Love to all,

Sam, Caren, Rachael, Dana, Mike, and Speedy the turtle,

Yacht Rhapsodie

Latitude South 14 degrees 14 minutes 

Longitude West 173 degrees