How do you say "Is it sharky here?" in French?

I should know how to ask if there are sharks around here in French, but it is a stupid question. Of course there are. When I jumped in the water with my surfboard to catch some waves, I was not even thinking about sharks... until I saw some big creatures fighting in the water. Uh oh.

I am not a morning person. I don't pretend to be. But here near the equator it is sweaty-steamy hot by 9:00 AM, and the hours between sunrise (5:45 AM) and 8 are quite nice. I think I am becoming more of a morning person. Anyway, by 10 this morning I was blazing hot and decided to go try to get a few waves at the beach here in the cove we are anchored in. The beach is black sand and volcanic rocks, and the water is totally murky- I hope this is because of the rivermouth at the far side of the beach. Because the cove is so protected the waves are small, but better than nothing, I thought.

I jumped in the 80+ degree water (which is semi-refreshing) with my longboard. Good to be back on a board!! I started paddling toward the beach a few hundred yards away, feeling my muscles start work and pushing me smoothly through the water. I was about half way to the beach when I froze. There was a boil in the water. Then something- what, I do not know- but something BIG jumped a way out of the water and appeared to be struggling. Fighting. The water was disturbed for another few seconds and then it went silent. I looked around, thinking, murky water, rivermouth, south pacific, hmmmmm... I decided to paddle over to my friends on the boat Savannah.

"Hello, Savannah!" I yelled and knocked on the hull of the boat. Andy, an ex-Navy SEAL, poked his head out of the hatch. "Oh Hey Corie, you going surfing?" He asked me. "Um, well, I was going to but..." and I explained what I had seen to him.
"Yeah, I've seen some things around here that have not looked quite right. I mean, I have not seen any shark fins or anything, but the guide books say its really sharky around here." He told me. "Oh really," I said as I tucked my feet up onto my board. As I was about to paddle away from his boat, his 5 year-old son Jake popped his head out of the hatch and said, "If you see a shark, swim at it 'cause it will scare it away 'cause it will think your are gonna eat it." Yes, little Jake, if I see a shark in the water I am sure I will swim right at it.

Looking for a bit of support I decided to paddle over to Merkava, to try to recruit Mark, an ex-stuntman (cruisers are all sorts of interesting people!) to come surf with me. When he declined with the excuse of cleaning the hull of his boat, I told him what I had seen. "Oh great" he said, "and I was just going to jump in the water to clean the hull." "Perfect! That might cut my chances of getting chomped in half." I joked. "You know," he said totally seriously, "the only thing I have read about sharks in the Marquesas is how unbelievably big they are." I looked for a glint of humor in his eyes: nothing. "Great, ok thanks. Uhh, see ya around." I paddled back to Rutea as fast as I could.

I do not like to be deterred when I set out to do something- especially when it comes to surfing. When I got back to the boat I rethought the past 15 minutes. Was I overreacting? Did I really see something gnarly in the water? Maybe Andy and Mark don't know what they are talking about. I told Mom everything and she said, "Yea, the guide book says that it is really sharky here, but it was written so long ago..." Thanks for looking out, Mom.

I need a bigger boat. Fortunately we have a kayak, so I launched it and paddled back to the surf. I didn't see anything unusual, except for a small, peeling, fun looking left. Back to the boat, I rigged up an anchor for the kayak, attached my longboard to it, and paddled back to the beach. I anchored, and then waited in the kayak for a set to come. When it did, I jumped onto my board, caught a nice little wave, and paddled like hell back to the kayak, climbed on it, and waited for another set to come. I surfed this way for a while, and when I still had all my fingers and toes after a half hour or so, I decided not to push my luck any further and headed back to the boat.

Perhaps I was overreacting, but I was surfing alone in this crazy place. I think I might save my surfing expeditions for another time and place. Tomorrow we are going on a land adventure to see ancient Tiki sights around the island, which should be cool. Until next time, send good vibes to all the ocean creature out there.
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At 4/13/2011 12:40 AM (utc) Rutea's position was 09°48.21'S 139°01.83'W

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LLLAAANNNNDDD HO!

We made it! We are here in French Polynesia. It is surreal. I can't quite fathom it. Even though I had 18 days to ponder it, I can't quite grasp that I am here.

We actually arrived yesterday. When I woke up yesterday morning we could see land. I could actually smell it on my midnight watch; the air was heavier, smelled earthy and a bit like animal. The closer we got the more beautiful the land appeared. The Marquesas Islands are the youngest island chain of French Polynesia, so they are the tallest. This is in comparison to the Tuamotus, which are only atolls now. The volcanic mountains shoot out of the sea straight upwards of 3000 feet. The peak under which we are anchored is masked in clouds. The hills are covered with mango, breadfruit, papaya, and coconut trees. I forgot how much I missed the color green!

We are now anchored in an anchorage near the town of Atuona. It is very small and everybody (except a few snooty French boats) have bow and stern anchors out so we don't swing into each other. We were greeted by friends we met in Mexico, and we are all the more closer now that we have bonded over the experience of sailing across the Pacific. Last night we went over to a friends boat for cocktails- how fun it was to talk to somebody other than Mom and Dad!! But really, Mom and Dad made great companions to make the passage with, and there are few people in the world I would make the passage with again. We also met another boat who arrived last week. They took 37 DAYS to cross. Ouch. 18 and I was starting to go stir crazy... I can't imagine going twice that.

Today we met Sandra, the agent who helped us check in to the country. She pulled up to the dinghy landing in her Range Rover, hopped out, and said, "Bounjour!" She speaks English with a heavy French accent, and it was fun to communicate with her. I immediately asked her about surf, and she said she has a friend who might be able to take me to a wave about an hour from here. There is actually a small break at the beach behind the anchorage here where a river drains out, and I think I might paddle over and see about catching a few ankle-slappers after I write. The water is 81 degrees and the air is 87....

Back to checking in: we drove into Atuona, which was a few minutes drive. It is a very small town with nicely maintained buildings, little houses with fruit trees surrounding them, and a few general stores. There are a few restaurants, although some friends told us they went to "Make Make" the snack shack, and 2 hamburgers, 4 beers and a plate of fried rice cost them $60. A bit pricey, no? Checking in was a breeze; the customs woman was friendly! Surely a first. I got to practice my first real French phrase: "Ou est la banque?" And they understood me! And I understood them! (because they pointed across the street and laughed.) Yes, I think we will get along fine.

The people here look interesting. Some look more European- lighter skin and hair, and others look more Polynesian- dark hair, dark skin, bigger builds. Lots of tattoos and the girls wear flowers in their hair. I only heard people speaking French. I am going to make flash cards and practice! I saw a few guys with surfboards who went down to a beach and were surfing a little shore break wave. Perhaps I will go surf with them one of these days.

Colonialism is a very strange thing. Here we are, in the middle of the Pacific on a very remote island chain, and people are speaking French. Every morning people buy fresh baguettes and croissants. There are French flags flown. You are greeted with "bounjour." And the country who colonized it is probably as away as one could possibly be on Earth. Weird. But, this place is awesome. Beautiful, warm, friendly... I can't wait to explore more of it!

In all honesty, I think I could be anywhere and be happy right now. The passage was not that difficult, we had good weather and wind, a comfortable boat, and made good speed, but I am so stoked to be here. Not only am I stoked, but I feel like I deserve to be here now. I worked hard those last 18 days to get here! Well...something like that.

Now Dad is recruiting me to scrub barnacles off the bottom of the boat. I need to learn how to curse in French. C'est la vie!!
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At 4/11/2011 8:51 PM (utc) Rutea's position was 09°48.21'S 139°01.83'W

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Almost there...!

Although we are still surrounded by sea and sky, land is not far off! The GPS says we have 147 miles to our destination, and our ETA is 22 hours: less than one day! WAHOOOO!!! Don't get me wrong, this has been some pretty incredible sailing... but I will be so stoked to arrive.

Picture Rutea cruising along at 7.5 knots, hitting 9.0+ as she surfs down a wave. The wind is steady at 16 kts out of the East, with gusts to 18. The thing is, its night. It is pitch black outside as there is no moon and the stars, while bright and clear, are no match for the thick darkness that one finds thousands of miles from any cities. The bioluminescence leaves a faint green trail in our wake. We are barreling across the ocean essentially blind, hoping that in the millions of square miles of the Pacific ocean there is no whale or container in our path. Sometimes I feel like we are going to sail right off the edge of the Earth, but rumors are that it is round, and we won't fall off.

This is an exhilarating feeling, and for the past few days we have had great wind- special shout out to the southerly tradewinds- to get us to the Marquesas with speed and style.

Funny, I am more excited about getting in the water than getting on land. Whereas we are surrounded by water, I have not gotten in it once, and my gills are drying up. As for surf in the Marquesas, I am playing the pessimist and not expecting much... so I will either be right or pleasantly surprised. I could have gone swimming when we were sitting in the doldrums, but there were tons of jellyfish in the water that I have concluded- with little research- were man-o-wars. Aside from that one day in the doldrums we have been moving too fast to go for a dip, unless I wanted to be left behind. No thanks.

I have been trying to brush up on my French and Tahitian, but it is hard to learn a language from a book. I figure I will just have to go make a fool of myself until I can get the basics... and I can't wait!! We have heard from friends who have already arrived and they make us jealous, and we have also heard from friends who are just leaving Banderas Bay. Hahaha, suckers. I will be drinking tropical drinks while they roll their way across the Pacific.

I think the thing I am looking forward to the most is to stop moving. Being on the go 24/7 is really exhausting. I just want to stay in one place for a bit. And the second thing I am looking most forward to is moving! Running, jumping, swimming, playing frisbee, whatever! This sitting all the time is exhausting. Did I just contradict myself again? Yes. But I find life to be a paradox, a catch-22, a contradiction, a positive for every negative and vice versa. Oh no, when I start to write like this I know it is time to stop.

I hope the next time you hear from me we will be at anchor in a beautiful, calm bay drinking champagne and toasting our good fortune. And so, I give you a preemptive "cheers!!"
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At 4/9/2011 8:02 PM (utc) Rutea's position was 07°53.59'S 137°04.65'W

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Happy New Hemisphere!!

Yesterday right about this time we crossed the equator! Officially Shellbacks. I think you are supposed to pierce your ear or something like that when you cross, but I already have 2 in each side, so I figure I am good for another 3 crossings.

Following proper seafarer tradition, we held a ceremony to the Ocean Gods Poseidon and Neptune. We sacrificed a bottle of Sailor Jerry's rum under the request of fair winds and calm seas the rest of the way to the Marquesas, and drank a bit of rum ourselves. I made an offering of my favorite tea, Zealong Dark Oolong- grown in New Zealand- to ensure our safe passage to New Zealand. We also sent out the hat of a fallen friend, Jeff Abbey, to the sea, although he will remain in our hearts forever.

Alas, this occasion was well-celebrated. Now, I want to get there. I am really tired of sailing. I am tired to constant motion; rolling, rocking, pitching; having to hold on while I eat, sleep, pee, cook, clean. I am tired of waking up every night at midnight to do a 3 hour watch; I am tired of constantly feeling grimy and salty. Wahh wahhh wahh. I know I am whining, but I am pretty sure you would be too.

I keep telling myself that we are almost there, and every day that becomes more true. 603 more miles to go. Does that sound like a lot? Maybe it is, but compared to 2,700, its not too bad.
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At 4/6/2011 1:45 AM (utc) Rutea's position was 00°13.20'S 131°01.48'W

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Doldrum Blues

Everything you have ever heard about the doldrums is true. Maybe. Depends on what you have heard. But everything that I have heard about the doldrums materialized yesterday.

Yesterday I woke up to a nice squall. No lightening and lots of rain to wash the salt and ink blotches of dead squid off the boat. Every morning I wake up to a few flying fish and squid who have committed suicide by jumping on our boat (maybe they think its a comet or something...) The rain lasted about half hour and then the skies cleared and the sun came out. The water turned sheet glassy and looked like metallic blue, rolling hills, and there was not a breath of wind all day. You could see the reflection of the clouds in the water.

The clouds were amazing all day. Every kind of cloud formation you can imagine, from giant dark thunderheads to uniform rows of cotton balls to high streaks in the sky. Sorry I don't know the proper names for these clouds... I am pretty sure I learned them in kindergarten and have forgotten. Regardless, every hour or so the clouds changed and kept getting more and more beautiful. We took tons of pictures, and looking back through the pictures I have taken in the past 2 weeks are all of ocean, sky and sunsets. Go figure.

We also took advantage of the calm day- the calmest we have had yet- to do some laundry in our "washer" i.e. a bucket with a motor to swish clothes around. We had to take all the drying underwear down with a quickness when I saw a giant squall on the horizon, but it dissipated before we got to it. In the afternoon I played guitar on the foredeck in the shade of the sails. It is quite pleasant in the shade and breeze, but the sun is ferocious. The cabin (inside the boat) does not get cooler than 80 degrees, which makes sense because it is sitting in 85 degree water. I sleep with a fan on full blast, pointing right at me. Somehow I think it is going to be this hot, and maybe even hotter, for the next 6 months.

As for the doldrums, we seem to have gotten through them today, but you never know. Because we hold nearly 200 gallons of fuel we were able to motor through the windless day, but I can totally identify with sailors going crazy around the equator because there is no wind and it is hot as hell. I'm not too crazy... yet... Right now we have 9 knots of wind out of the south east which leads me to believe (optimistically) that we have reached the Southerly Tradewinds, even though we have not crossed the equator yet. We hope to tomorrow. We do, however, have less than 1,000 miles to go! Its great to see 3 numbers on the "distance to destination" box instead of 4. Yes, the little things in life.

Well, my friends, I hope all of you are enjoying the beautiful things in your lives, tough as it may be some times. I miss you often, but can always make myself smile by conjuring up some silly memory I have of us winning a beer pong game, sharing epic waves, late night jam sessions... I could go on and on but I will spare you any more sap. Much love. :)
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At 4/4/2011 8:06 PM (utc) Rutea's position was 02°24.38'N 129°39.87'W

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A Good Day

Today was a good day. Let me recount:

My days start at 12:00 a.m. (00:00) because I take the midnight to 3:00 a.m. watch. I like watches because I get some time to myself and it is cool. Not so cool that I need more than a t-shirt and shorts, but refreshing. My watch was more or less uneventful, although on the radar I could see squall lines passing to the East. Fortunately we did not hit any while I was on watch. When Mom came up to take her watch at 3, I went back to bed and slept blissfully...

Until I woke up to wind howling in the shrouds and could feel the boat going very fast. It was still dark but I could tell Dad was on watch, and I was sure he had everything under control. Then I heard the sails start to flog (also called luffing- when the sails flap around). This is never good. After a minute or two we got the "all hands on deck" call from Dad, who, after I jumped out of bed and put on my harness and scrambled into the cockpit, said that we had been cruising along quite nicely but then the wind picked up to 25 knots and started to change directions. This is essentially a squall- the wind comes up fast and can change direction instantly, and is usually accompanied by rain and sometimes lightening. We hit a mini squall, but no harm came out of it. We took down the genoa and sailed under the mainsail until the sun came up.

After the sunrise we decided to put the genoa back up. It is the biggest sail on the standard rigging, so we do not use it when it is very windy, but everything had calmed down (it always seems to do so after sun rise). Long story short, the genoa and the main were too much sail, so we dropped the main. Then the wind clocked around so we had to take down the genoa and put it up on the other side, then the wind dropped more so we hoisted the main again. We essentially played with sails for 4 hours before getting the right combination. That is one misconception about sailing: you point in the direction you want to go, set your sails, and go. Not so. The wind and seas are always changing, and one has to adapt accordingly.

After "adapting" I took a nap as the three hours of sleep after my watch was not quite enough. When I woke up the seas had calmed down and we were sailing on a beam reach. The sky was filled with big, white, puffy clouds against the bright blue sky. We are getting close to the equator and we can tell. The sun is INTENSE. I try to stay in the shade as much as possible, because the instant the sun touches my skin, it burns.

We also took (boat) showers today. Big deal! Want to feel like a million bucks? Don't shower for a few days, stay outside in the wind and the salt, and then take a shower. Its cheap and it feels soooo good. But the trick is staying clean at least for a few hours after the shower. To do this I sit in the shade, in the breeze, and move as little as possible. Regardless of how still I stay, within an hour my shirt is sticking to my back and I am salty all over again. Hence the name- Salty Schneider- even though it sounds like the name of some pretzel snack (so I have been told).

Right now it is 21:00 (9 pm) and it is 86 degrees in the cabin. The water temp is 81. The wind and seas are calm; the stars are shining with full force.

And so my friend, stay tuned for more deliciously crunchy, salty adventures.
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At 4/3/2011 3:45 AM (utc) Rutea's position was 06°17.32'N 127°39.48'W

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Chinese Pirates and Half-Way Points

First things first: today we reached our half-way point!! At 1,338.5 nautical miles we were exactly half way between Punta de Mita, Mexico, and Hiva Oa, Marquesas. Its all downhill from here... or something like that. We still have to cross the Inter Tropical Convergence Zone (ITCZ), which is about from 6 to 3 degrees North and always expanding and contracting. We are looking at our weather forecasts for a good window to cross through to avoid the squalls and other nasty weather found in the zone.

And then we hit the doldrums, cross the equator (drink champagne, pay homage to Poseidon and Neptune, and maayybe jump in the water if the conditions are calm enough- I mean, how cool would it be to swim across the equator?!) then we pick up the southern hemisphere trades that sweep us into Hiva Oa with a graceful entrance. Easy! But I am getting ahead of myself... It took us 10 days to get this far and will probably take us another 10 to finally reach land. Sigh.

Remember how I told you that cruising is essentially "hours upon hours of sheer boredom punctuated by moments of sheer terror"? Well, this anecdote should prove my point. Yesterday morning I woke up to the smell of fresh baked cinnamon rolls (out of the can, of course, but an essential to any offshore passage). This was a nice way to wake up to what should have been a long, uneventful, and rather boring day.

As Mom, Dad and I were sitting in the cockpit enjoying our pastries and a nice 18 knot breeze that kept us moving at a brisk 7-8 knots, Mom noticed a ship on the horizon. Whereas it is not uncommon for ships to be in the ocean, it is rather uncommon to see ships 1000 miles out from any land, considering that the Pacific ocean covers hundreds of millions of square miles, and we have a visibility of about 6 miles in all directions. Nevertheless, there was the ship, and it appeared to be coming our way. At first I ignored it, hoping it would just go away (I don't like seeing other boats out here) but Mom kept looking at it through the binoculars and plotting it on the radar. She said, "Corie, you gotta look at this thing. I can't tell what kind of boat it is... is it a fishing boat? refugee boat? abandoned?"

When I looked up from my book the boat was much closer than I would have expected. When I looked at it through the binoculars it made my stomach churn. This ship was the boat equivalent to the shadiest, nastiest "Chester the Molester" van you have ever seen. It could have been out of a horror movie, not in that there were decapitated heads stuck on spears or goblins gnashing their teeth on the decks, but it was just creepy. The boat was about 75 feet long, and looked to be some sort of fishing boat, except that there were no signs of fishing gear. In fact the boat was deserted. No signs of life anywhere, except that it kept speeding up and slowing down, and did not keep a straight course.

The boat was almost completely rusted, with green algae growing up the hull. The panels that went up to the second deck were almost all rust, so that it looked like the boat was collapsing in the middle. The only signs of identification I could make out were some symbols in Chinese that were painted on the bow. It had no lights (that I could see, although it was day) and I could only tell that it was moving because of the wave at the bow. And in fact it was coming straight at us.

Ok, so it didn't come straight at us. But it passed our stern about 1/2 mile away, which is very, very close out in this big ocean. I kept an eye on it as it slowly started for the horizon, happy to have that thing as far away as possible. Now, while this boat did not actually hurt or threaten us, it still scared the shit out of me. Mom and I decided that they were probably pirates and didn't want to board the boat because it was too rolly and we would have kicked their asses into the water. When I went on watch Mom said, "Make sure the pirates don't come back." Haha. Gulp.

Later, when I asked her if we have any sort of defenses in case of some sort of attack, she stuck out her jaw and stuck up her middle finger.
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At 4/1/2011 9:37 PM (utc) Rutea's position was 07°57.88'N 125°22.02'W

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