One of the top on-board activities: swing from one end of the boat to the other.

What the locals think of the French and their nuclear testing.  The last tests were on January 27, 1996, at the Moruroa and Fangataufa Atoll test site in the Tuamotus.  Wow - we just missed them by 3 years!

Dear family and friends:

First, a request: PLEASE LIMIT ANY EMAIL YOU SEND US TO PERSONAL NOTES. We receive our email via satellite telephone, and pay for each word we receive -- so, personal news is more than welcome, but PLEASE don't put us on any mailing lists, or send us "the top 100 jokes of the day," etc. Also, when you respond to any of our emails, please make sure that you are not inadvertently including a copy of our email with your response. Thanks for your understanding.

As I sit at the nav table composing this letter I hear the traffic along the quay, the clanking of the container ship across the harbor, the hum of the inter-island ferries heading to and from Moorea and other Society islands. It's kind of exciting to be in the Big City of Papeete, but already I miss the peace and quiet of the past two months, first in the Marquesas, then in the Tuamotus.

We made good time from San Diego to Nuku Hiva in the Isles Marquises, covering over 3000 miles in less than three weeks. We kept a watch schedule of 2 hours on, 8 hours off for the five adults aboard. Each watch person was responsible for logging our position, course, speed, and distance covered each hour on the hour. In addition, we received a daily weather report from Bob's Weather Service via email. Here's a sample:

"At 9 kts, or less, you're looking pretty much like you're entering the ITCZ wind field. Current IR satellite indicates no heavy convection on the ITCZ axis, with that axis being at about 9N on your current heading. Band of cloud about 100 miles wide, but satellite would suggest mainly just small showers at this time. With little activity in there, would think we have band of light/variables for about 50 or 60 nm either side of the axis, then southeasterlies fill in. So that would be maybe another 60 miles or so to the South."

Hey, after a few weeks at sea, even Bob's reports start to make for fun reading.

When we arrived at Nuku Hiva, we were unfortunately captured by a tribe of Marquesan savages, who kept us captive for four weeks on a series of 5 different islands, plying us with gifts of grapefruits, bananas, coconuts, limes, corrosol, papaya, oranges, and octopus, and entertaining us with seductive native dances performed by either 12 year old nymphets or 65 year old former sumo wrestlers. Sam was even forcibly tattooed on his left chest with a "wise turtle." Rachael was proposed to a number of times by Marquesan boys half her age, and both children were forced to learn French to defend  themselves from an onslaught of friendly native kids. At one point Sam was offered 10 Marquesan women in exchange for Caren (he of course did not accept -- they wouldn't take the kids in the bargain). Dana, when he heard of the offer, was quite upset, wondering how we could fit and feed all these women on the boat.

We broke free in the dead of night from Fatu Hiva after a few evil savages sabotaged our dingy. Unfortunately, our very experienced Captain who had borrowed the boat, was on shore partying with the locals, and did not keep a good watch. The attempted theft was not successful, but the boat was totally lost as it was bashed on the rocks by the heavy surf. The "menchant" or scoundrels were from "Bay de Vierge" (formerly known as the Bay of Penises in pre-missionary times because of the amazing rock formations) a spooky place that looked like a misty King-Kong Valley. We headed madly southwest (in five days of no wind, incidentally) to Manihi the closest of the Tuamotus, where we licked our wounds and recovered from the ordeal.

I write this portion of this email from just off the "blue lagoon," a lovely collection of motus (small islands) on the West side of Rangiroa atoll. We sailed here yesterday with another boat from Boston. The other boat returned the same day, and we decided to spend the night. Why? Well, the sharks are the main draw. Yesterday Caren and i swam from the boat to the closest reef. On the way we spotted several pretty big sharks checking us out. "Pretty big" in our book means "bigger than you are." When we reached the reef, we stood in about two feet of water, where the bigger sharks couldn't fit. The smaller ones (4-5 feet long) could, however, and we found ourselves surrounded by about a dozen or so, all circling us counterclockwise, at a distance of about 10 feet. Kind of gets the juices flowing.

We entered Rangiroa atoll for the first time about 4 days ago, after visiting two other Tuamotan atolls, Ahe and Manihi. Rangiroa is the principle island of the Tuoamotus, which number 78, all but two of them coral atolls. They lie spread across 15 degrees of longitude, and extend almost 1,000 miles in a NW-SE direction. Together with the Marquises (north of us), the Australs (south of us), the Gambiers (southeast of use), and the Society Islands (which include the better-known islands of Tahiti and Bora-Bora), they form French Polynesia, and are administered from Tahiti.

 A good hunk of the Tuamotus and most of the Gamblers are off limits to pleasure craft -- the French use this restricted zone for nuclear tests, specifically at Mururoa atoll. The French have earned the eternal enmity of all South Sea islanders for their total disregard of the wishes (and safety) of the Tuamotans in the restricted zone. It is the most common topic of conversation with the locals, and the best way to start a friendship is to announce that you are not French.

The Tuamotus have been called the "Dangerous Archipelago" because they lie so low, often extending just a few feet above sea level. It was not so long ago that most cruising plans aimed at only sighting and passing the Tuoamotus safely. Today a few atolls are regularly visited, thanks to the advent of GPS navigation. We have two GPS devices aboard, which locate us with an accuracy of a few hundred feet anywhere on earth -- without them, we probably would have skipped the entire archipelago.

Once you locate an atoll, however, you are only halfway there. The next problem is getting inside it via one or more channels in its fringing reef. Some of the atolls have no channels at all, or channels that are too shallow for yachts, or channels that are too narrow. Those that have good-sized, deep channels typically have very strong tidal currents, up to 8 knots in some cases. So you use your GPS to find the atoll and its entry channel, your radar to verify that it is really there (especially at night), and your sonar to check that there is adequate clearance under your boat. You hang around until the tide is slack, and then you motor on inside. Hey, the funis just beginning, for the lagoon you just entered is typically full of coral heads that are Just below the surface, and that you must detour around. How to spot the coral heads? Have Rachael climb the mast to the first set of spreaders and look ahead, shouting out when to turn to port or starboard (of course, the sun should be behind you, but not too low in the sky, for the lookout to be effective). You also should have someone monitoring water depths with the boat's sonar. Relaxing, it ain't. The best part? When you do drop anchor, there is a good chance that it will get stuck in some coral at the bottom of the lagoon, in which case you get to dive down and free it when you are ready to leave.

What is there to do on a coral atoll, you may ask? Well, most of the fun is below water, for the Tuamotus have some of the clearest waters and most prolific fish and coral life on earth. The biggest rush is to dinghy over to the channel when the tide is just beginning to flood, put on your mask and snorkel, and float through the channel and into the lagoon, letting the tide do all the work. Rangiroa's Passe de Tiputa is one of the better channels for this activity -- it is wide, deep, and Its underwater inhabitants have become conditioned to the sight of humans floating above them (and below them -- scuba divers float through the pass at varying depths). Sometimes you get visited by dolphins, sometimes by manta rays, and always by sharks ("considered harmless" by the locals). We did a drift snorkel at Manihi (two atolls northeast of here) a few days ago that swept us right up against a fish trap. We clung to the wire netting of the trap and peered in -- among the many fish were about twenty sharks of some 5 or so different species, which we stared at, eyeball to eyeball. Sam did a scuba float through Tiputa pass, which he described as "looks like a shark screen-saver."

Some Tuamotans make a living out of cultivating and selling black pearls. We befriended some guys at Manihi who were pearl cultivators. They showed us the steps involved in implanting the "seed" in the mantle of the oyster, fastening it to a rope, and lowering It into the lagoon. (In the old days they used to dive for natural black pearls, but those are long since gone.) Twelve months later (if you are lucky) out pops a nice, black pearl, worth anywhere from $5 to $10,000 in the world market, depending on size, color, luster, and the world market (Japan and Korea are beginning to cultivate their own black pearls). Rachael batted her eyelashes and good a bagful of "rejects"; I purchased two nice big ones for a pittance, to be made into earrings for Caren for our fifteenth wedding anniversary.

Since I began this email the wind picked up, and we decided to seek a quieter anchorage, We have just finished motoring about 3 hours along the Southwest edge of the lagoon, and are now anchored off motu AiAi, a tiny islet a few hundred yards inside the fringing reef. The water here is the clearest we have encountered, the anchorage is safe, the wind is down, and we are totally alone -- we may hang here for a while. We hope to slowly encircle the lagoon over the next several days, then out the pass we came in on, and on to Tahiti (Rangiroa has a circumference of about 100 miles, and is the second largest atoll in the world). We wilt be in Papeete for several weeks for necessary repairs and reprovisioning.

Okay, fast forward to Moorea, where I am writing the final installment of this overly long email. We sailed from Rangiroa to Tahiti about two weeks ago, and spent most of those weeks fixing the boat, purchasing a new aluminum dinghy (christened Chanson), and provisioning. Tahiti is where you get things done; Moorea, the adjacent island, is where you go to get away from the crowds and the noise. We are anchored just inside the reef in Cook's Bay, on Moorea's north coast. We hope to stay here for another week, returning to Tahiti to pick up Caren's sister Sue on the 16th. Together with Sue we will visit some more of the Society Islands (Huahine, Tahaa, and Raiatea) before moving further west to Bora Bora, the Cook Islands, and on to Fiji.

On a personal note, Caren's back has been holding up pretty well. The only minor problem occurred after a 17 mile hike over the mountains. The new dinghy is starting to give her problems because the hard aluminum is less forgiving over the waves than the nice soft inflatable. Overall, we are way ahead of last year at this time.

We have slowly been adjusting to our new lifestyle. Everything takes longer on a boat, remember no fast foods or take out, no dishwasher, no school to drop the kids off....By the time we finish teaching, cooking, cleaning, and taking care of the boat the whole day can slip by. We are getting better as teachers, so we should be able to complete lessons in 4 hours.

Finding other boats with kids is always the first excursion when we enter a new anchorage. We have made friends with boats from many countries, and the children now appreciate the importance of learning languages. They have even  had a few French lessons to help them get by when playing with the local kids.

The children's swimming has become quite strong, and they are learning to really observe nature. They can sense danger, and when it is time to leave the water. Mainly they have learned to respect the undersea life and observe the potentially dangerous creatures at a quiet distance without showing panic or fear. These lessons have transferred to street smarts as they walk the streets of Papeete keeping an eye out for the pickpockets.

We also had a change of crew. When we left CA we wanted professionals on board to teach us since we didn't have as much time to practice in SFO Bay as planned. It was helpful for the long passage to have other adults on board. However, it did not feel like a family boat. There were too many single males aboard, talking about things that interest single males. The Captain turned out to be a bad teacher, an alcoholic, and with his track record losing our dingy, we decided to let him go in Papeete. The mechanic also left then as planned. We are more comfortable with the boat now, and the kids have a chance to learn and participate more fully. We are still learning, and with our crew Mike, we are now a very happy boat.

Its hard to be away from friends and family. When we make friends with a special boat or family, it is an intense friendship knowing that it may b our only time together. It is always a pleasant surprise to find a familiar  boat in the next port.  We hope that this letter finds everyone safe and well. The adventure continues!

With love from the crew of Rhapsodie,  Sam, Caren, Rachael and Dana