Embedded Files
Sep 11, 1999: Email to Pancho
Hey Pancho,
Just a quick personal note received simultaneously with a longer one we mail out to everybody and his momma. Life continues to be full. Relaxing, it ain't. What with schooling, cooking, cleaning, fixing, checking the weather, anchoring, navigating, forecasting, and generally worrying about what can go wrong, there are precious few moments to just kick back and do nothing. The desk job, house in the burbs, cleaning lady, and supermarket around the corner definitely have their appeal -- on the other hand, they don't get you to the Marquesas, or to the Tuamotus.
I could happily return to the Marquesas and hang with the locals for months (I wouldn't if I didn't speak French, though). Great islands, truly fine people, paradise lost at its finest. My favorites: Tahuata and Ua Pou. Amazing scenery. Did I tell you I acquired a tattoo from a local tattooist? Traditional style, rectangular, 2 inches by 3 inches, on the left side of my chest. Plus I got a great shark's tooth necklace for my 57th birthday. Hey, going native is the way.
Ahead of us lie more of the Society Islands, which Caren and I last sailed ten years ago; then it is pretty much bomb on over to Fiji with very little time for sightseeing: the hurricane season is approaching, and Fiji has good "hurricane holes," where you can wait out the nasties in (relative) safety. We should be in Fiji for several months at least.
Bye bye for now, Pancho. Any chance to see you in this part of the world? We would love to host you.
Love to you and Pom,
Sam, Caren, Rachael, Dana
Yacht Rhapsodie
Sep 21, 1999: Email from Pancho
Sam, did you get my last e-mail (asking whether you had gotten to Hatiheu on Nuku Hiva)...on your crew member, there is no US Consul in Tahiti (handled by Fiji) and visas cannot be issued by third country consulates by using mails (a summary firing offense, as happened to our former Consul General in Manila). ergo: staying aboard at American Samoa may be prudent.
All our very best, Pancho
Sep 24, 1999: Email to extended family from Huahini
Dear Bruce and Che-Che, Len and Inger, Erik, Lisa, John & Mom,
Yes, another year has come and gone, and taken its toll. I am now 57 years old, and, despite my tattoo and sharks' tooth necklace (my birthday present), I am no longer a spry young thing. When I bump something (and I bump something a lot more often these days, especially on this boat) the bruise seems to take ten times longer to heal. When I begin to teach my darling children at 7:30 in the morning, I find that I have some difficulty keeping a keen analytic attention to their learning processes as the hour advances, and the heat increases. The extra weight I carry about my midsection, I which had assumed would rapidly disappear as I left San Francisco for adventures in other lands, seems to have decided to stay with me for the entire voyage. Staying young is hard work, family.
I haven't done much today. The boat is anchored in the lagoon surrounding Huahine, one of the lovely Society Islands (better known ones: Tahiti, Moorea, Bora Bora). There is only one other boat visible, and it is about a mile from us. The water is crystal clear, and populated with puffer fish, parrot fish, and eagle rays. The kids have been persuaded that it is really fun to scrub the green scum off the hulls of Rhapsodie (remember Tom Sawyer and whitewashing the fence?), and Caren is floating around somewhere nearby. Mike is doing fiberglass work. it is my turn to write an email or two.
I was 'Ti" this morning (the first teacher), so I woke about 7'15, brewed myself a nice cup of French roast coffee in my Mellior coffee maker, had a bowl of Genialty corn flakes with UHT milk (great stuff - milk in cartons that has been irradiated with ultraviolet light and hence stays fresh for months without refrigeration; why don't we have it in the U.S.?), then settled down with the kids at the salon table for the day's lessons. Each child is working through the Calvert School's fourth grade curriculum: Dana jumped to the fourth grade because he's too damn smart for the third grade, and Rachael needs to cover some of last years' stuff over again because she had missed so much school last year (a combination of illnesses and leaving on Rhapsodie for the South Pacific). It has taken us several months to figure out how to teach these kids, and we are still learning, but every week goes a little smoother. Now Rachael is able to cover most of her work on her own, and she's been moving along at about two days' work each school day. Dana needs more personal attention, but since he's so far ahead of his classmates, we tend to let his interests lead him where he wants to go, rather than where the curriculum says to go (his big interests right now: shells and sharks).
The biggest measure of success in our efforts is the dramatic improvement in both kids' reading and writing. We require each to write something every day, whether an email, a composition from the Calvert curriculum, an entry in their log, whatever. In addition, we have a "reading hour" each evening before dinner. And it is working! Rachael, in particular, has received numerous compliments from her last year's teacher (with whom she corresponds via email). In addition, the teacher of the class she would have been in this year has set up a map of the world, and the students are plotting her sailing route on the map. Last week she received a long letter from her class, with a personal note from each student, and she responded to each student.
I know, I know, you want more exciting stories of exotic happenings. Sorry, but our attentions are turning inward, to our life and our family in our little floating home. This is where we spend almost all our time, where we cook our meals, educate our children, clean, listen to and play music, read, sleep, live. Now and then we head off and catch some local color. But for now, the excitement is in what is happening to us as a family. And it is all very positive.
I taught the kids until 10 this morning, when we had "break". At this point, the kids take 5 laps around the deck just to work it out of there system, while I prepare a treat: frozen strawberry and fruit juice smoothies. Then it is back to school with teacher "72" (Caren today) until around noon.
Lunch today consisted of some lovely mahi-mahi, rice and corn salad, and yet another salad, this of lettuce, tomatoes, cucumbers, radishes, olives, jicama, with toasted croutons and balsamic vinegar dressing (hey, this is French territory — we don't fool around here). Then everybody jumped off the boat for an extended swim. The boat cleaning only began a short time ago.
Today it looks like we won't actually go anywhere at all. We'll get the boat cleaned, and Mike will finish the fiberglass job (so that our autopilot will be held more firmly in place), and we'll stop everything and gather in the cockpit for cocktails and music as the sun sets behind Raiatea 25 miles to the West. The only sounds are the lapping of the water against our dinghy and the steady roar of the breakers against the fringing reef. The sky is pale blue, full of fluffy clouds, and the water is blue-green, flat like a mirror, and absolutely clear. On shore we can hear dogs barking and see locals sitting on the beach. We are going to have a tough time leaving this place.
Bye for now,
Sammy
Sep 24, 1999: Email to John from Huahini
Sep 24, 1999: Email to Pancho from Huahini
24 Sep 1999: Email to parents from Huahini
Dear John and Mom:
So sorry to hear of Keene's death. We had heard a few days earlier from Julie and Peter that he wasn't doing very well, so the news does not come as a complete surprise. I emailed Julie back with my condolences, but if you see Jane, please tell her how sorry I am. And I hope Selma Arrow's recovery accelerates. As you say, Bummer.
Japan, eh? Great country. Smart move not to bother learning the language, for it is unlearnable. I thought it the most amazing country I ever visited - I had this feeling that the culture was deep, wide, and unfathomable, and that I would never ever understand more than a tiny part of it. I envy your setup, too. Thanks for the offer to host all four of us, but Japan is way off our cruising route. Just take good notes and fill us in with all the details later.
Your letter describing your coming honors in Italy had me in stitches, Big John. I miss you and your humor, and your email brought you forcefully back to mind. Keep those cards and letters coming!
Two days ago we said good-bye to our first visitor, Sue Kelman, Caren's younger sister, who joined us for a perfect week in Tahiti, Moorea, and Huahine. We had great weather, some nice sailing, and Sue got to see two of earth's best islands. Moorea, and Cook's Bay in particular, gave us its best shot, while Huahine, laid-back Huahine, opened its arms and welcomed us to her bosom. We are having problems leaving Huahine, we like her bosom so much. As I write this note Rhapsodie is anchored in about 30 feet of crystal-clear water in the lagoon surrounding Huahine. Now and then I get up for the frequent fish alerts announced by one or both of my children -- the last involved the sighting of an eagle ray doing a somersault in the air. Earlier, Dana caught a puffer fish, and Rachael a parrot fish -- neither is edible, but the thrill is in the chase.
Yesterday we dinghied through the pass separating "Big Huahine" from "Little Huahine" to the East side of the island and into Baie de Faie. At the head of the bay is the little village of Faie, which reminded us of a Marquesan village: one street leading away from the mouth of the bay, lined with fruit and shade trees, kids everywhere, friendly folk waving from every doorway, you get the picture. In the center of the village is a river populated with big, fat, blue-eyed eels. We had brought a can of tuna fish for them, but the woman at the nearest house to the river told us the eels only eat mackerel, and traded cans with us. When we dumped the canned mackerel into the river, the eels went mad with delight, rolling and twisting to get to the fish, while my cautious little children jumped in to pet them ("they feel as smooth as sting rays, daddy!") The woman asked if we liked bananas, and, upon learning that we did indeed, went out back and returned with an entire stalk for us. I couldn't carry the damn thing, so she got her husband Coco to carry the bananas back to the dinghy. We reciprocated by driving her kid around in the dinghy, while a good part of the town watched from the dock. We declined the family's offer to stay a few more days with them, took their name and address, and left a promise to send them a postcard from somewhere outside of French Polynesia. Just another day in the South Pacific.
Love to you both,
Sam
Yacht Rhapsodie
Huahine, Iles de la Societe
Oct 19, 1999: Email to family en route from Maupelia to Palmerston
Dear family:
I write this email at Latitude 18 degrees 17 minutes south. Longitude 162 degrees 38 minutes, which as you all know is only about 32 miles from Palmerston atoll, our next destination_ Yes, we finally managed to tear ourselves away from the beguiling Society Islands of Huahine, Tahaa, Raiatea, and Bora Bora. How we miss the baguettes and pain et chocolates! How we do not miss the amazingly high prices! Welcome, Rhapsodie, to the Cook Islands, where the English language is spoken, and a burger (if one can be found) surely must cost less than the 57 they ask for in Papeete.
To back up a bit: we spent the last days (and a Little bit more) of our 3 months' visas in French Polynesia in the coral atoll surrounding Bora Bora. This island consists of an amazing central mountain with twin peaks, one sharp like a knife blade, the other a more traditional volcanic peak, both clothed in obscenely tropical greens. Around this mountain is a fringing reef just a few feet above water. enclosing a lagoon of more green and blue hues than you can shake a stick at. At times, when the sun, clouds, and wind are just right, the lagoon is reflected by the clouds, turning them green and blue as well. Arid all this in a package no more than 5 miles in diameter.
Bora Bora's reef is punctuated with a series of low-lying "motus" (small islands), each with white sand beaches. palm trees, and, yes, luxury hotels For Bora Bora, let me assure you, has been discovered by the (rich) touristsof the world. As we cruised amongst and around the motus we must have counted at least a dozen gorgeous hotels. each with the same formula: central eating area, small pool. beach with beach toys, and, most importantly, a semicircle of bungalows over the water, each with its own balcony and stairs to the water. We visited a number of these hotels in Huahine with Sue, Caren's sister, who visited us for a week, and they all looked deserted — actually, they are all booked solid, its just that all the guests are in their respective bungalows or sunning themselves on their porches (clothing optional — ah. the French), presumably so stunned by the beauty of the place that they can't move.
We loved Bora Bora, and French Polynesia in general. and vowed to return again someday for another three months at least, but time marches on. the hurricane season approaches. so on October 10 we began the long trek west to Fiji. But wait! Is that an island 1 see just 27 miles northwest of Bora Bora? Why, it is Maupiti. 'The Smallest Jewel", kind of a miniature Bora Bora, with a population of about a thousand, and very little tourism. The trouble with Maupiti for us yachties is its pass through the reef, Onoiau. When there is are strong southerly winds, as there were on the day we approached, the pass is completely covered with breakers; even if we could get inside, we couldn't get back out until the breakers subsided, which could take a week or more. So we had to give pretty little Maupiti a bye thistime. We did enjoy watching some humpback whales cavorting in the surf, however.
Next stop, another 100 miles west of Maupiti, was Maupelia, a classic atoll about 4 miles in diameter, and occupied by only about two dozen locals. We only stayed in Maupelia a few days, but wow, what a great way to say good-bye to French Polynesia.
Maupelia's fun begins right at the pass. Let me quote one of our cruising guides: "Passe Taihaaru Vahine is one of the trickiest passes in French Polynesia for it is very narrow and the constantly ebbing current can reach 6 knots at times, making a reliable engine and a good set of nerves necessary." Our other guide: "If you didn't want to venture into Maupiti's pass, you'll never enter this one! The pass is unmarked. From seaward, head around to the Northwest side, passing the rusty wreck which lies just north of the pass. .. When you are in the right position, you may take one look and change your mind about entering."
We took a look and went for it. Are we glad we did! We had the place to ourselves, and soon made friends with the Chef du Village, Bernard Mauahiti, his wife Jeannette, and their two teenage children, Gloria and Natua, who took us under their wings for the duration of our stay. Bernard is from Maupiti, where he was elected Chef du Village of Maupelia three years ago. His family and the other families on the island make their money raising oysters in the lagoon, whose shells they sell to the Tuamotans; they in turn use the nacre in the shells as seeds for inserting into oysters to produce black pearls The Maupelians would prefer to directly cultivate black pearls in their own lagoon, but they haven't yet been given permission to do so by the central government in Papeete, and one of Bernard's main tasks is to urge the government to change its rules. Meanwhile, he and his fellow Maupelians eke out a living as best they can. When we visited, the supply ship, which only comes once a month, was still two weeks away, certain basic foodstuffs were running low, and Bernard's short-wave radio was on the blink, so he couldn't contact anybody; we were able to place an order for him with our radio, plus provide him with some sugar and cooking oil.
As you might guess, life on Maupelia is no picnic. There are coconuts and there are fish, but that's about it. Plus there are the hurricanes, Two years ago several hundred people lived on Maupelia, but a hurricane passed by and destroyed virtually every building; now, as I mentioned, there are only about two dozen people. Because life is so tough, all the people share in the island's land, produce, and profits from the oyster shells, which is a very different setup from all the other islands we visited, where private ownership of land, coconut palms, and fishing areas is the rule. Bernard told us he chose to live on Maupelia for this reason.
So what do you do on Maupelia for kicks? Well, how about hunting coconut crabs? Bernard's kids took us to Motu Tavae just south of the channel, which is covered with nesting sea birds (the Maupelians gather tern eggs every Sunday from this motu). and then started poking around the piles of fallen coconut palms knocked over by the recent hurricane. In about an hour we had caught three monstrous blue crabs, with claws so strong they can easily snap off a finger. We tied them up with pandanus fibers, slung them on poles, and carried them victoriously back to the village. Jeannette cooked them for us that evening, and we had a fabulous meal hosting the Mauahiti family aboard Rhapsodie, with the piece de resistance the most delicious crab I have ever tasted.
Tired of hunting crabs? Try collecting sea turtle eggs! One evening Bernard and his son Natua took us to the other side of their motu where we searched for the tracks of the giant sea turtles that come ashore each year to lay their eggs. We discovered many tracks of turtles pulling their massive bodies out of the sea and onto the beach, and also the hollows where they buried their eggs, and finally, just as we were heading home, we caught one big old mama sea turtle digging away. I had seen such a sight years ago, while in Malaysia in the Peace Corps, but the sight was new to Caren and the kids, and they could hardly believe their eyes. Once a turtle begins to dig she seems to become oblivious of her surroundings, so we could sit right next to her and pet her big old gorgeous head, and she wouldn't even break her stride.
We watched her awhile, but then realized that the process was going to take many hours, so we headed back to the boat for the night. The next morning we returned and surprise! No eggs! Well, guess what, that big old mama sea turtle was one clever dude. As Bernard explained, she had dug a fake hollow in the sand to throw her natural enemies off, then returned to the sea, swam down the coast a bit, and returned to another stretch of beach, where she laid her eggs. Cleverer dude Bernard: he found the real hollow in the sand, then started poking around it with a stick, sniffing the end of the stick to see if he had pierced an egg. Once found, he dug down with his hands and transferred the cache of eggs, 100 in all, into a bucket, and we carried them back to his village. But not to eat: turtles and their eggs are completely protected in French Polynesia. Instead, Bernard dug his own hole near his home and placed the eggs in it, with wire netting surrounding it. When the eggs hatch in a few weeks, he will take the baby turtles and put them in a cage in the lagoon, feeding them for a year until they are big enough to fend for themselves, then release them into the wild. Note that Bernard and his fellow Maupelians don't eat any of the eggs themselves -- all are preserved for the good of the species.
Enough - this email is getting too big for its britches. I am actually finishing it at our next destination, Palmerston Atoll, in the Cook Islands. But that is news for another email.
John, I hope your honors were properly heaped upon you in Italy-, I want a full report upon your return_ Morn, keep whacking that vall, and congrats on 2nd in the Stanford Women's Invitational. You are amazing. Len, I don't know your friend Neil Levy or his Micronesian Handbook, but thanks for the tip —when we get to Micronesia, we will be sure to have a copy in our hotlittle hands. Boogie, thanks for the emails, and goo boo lah loo. Erik and Lisa, hope all is well in your respective worlds.
One final word: we report our position frequently through our single sideband radio to an organization that keeps track of boats like ours on a web site. Try www.bitwrangler.com/yotrips and you should be able to see our position (so they claim).
Love to all
Sammy, Caren, Rachael, Dana and Speedy the turtle (did you know we had a turtle aboard?)
The dreaded pass into Maupelia
Anchored in Maupelia. That is one of Bernard's children, Gloria. She and her family are Maupelia's only inhabitants.
The daughter is out fishing.
Dana helps Daniel dig for turtle eggs.
Natua found three coconut crabs for dinner. Best crab we ever ate.
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