AMERICAN SAMOA:

We did not expect much when we came to Pago Pago harbor in American Samoa. It is a well protected natural harbor (an ancient caldera), surrounded by gorgeous mountains and scenery. Unfortunately, “Starkist”, “Chicken of the Sea”, and blatant neglect have made the harbor quite unpleasant. If one is not suffocating from the smells of cooking and canning tuna from the packing plants on the north side of the harbor, then one must navigate carefully to avoid all the sunken wrecks of small and larger boats in and around the docks.

But again, we were lucky. We arrived in American Samoa just in time for the beginning of the Pacific Arts Festival – an event held every four years to bring together Polynesian, Melanesian and Micronesian countries to share and spotlight the traditional culture of each of 27 Pacific nations. This was not a tourist event. This was a spectacular display of all the dance, music, costumes, arts, crafts, cuisines, etc. of each nation. Delegations came from all over to show the best of the best.

We were able to partake of all the festivities for free. At any other time, one would have to travel far and wide to be able to observe and enjoy such variety. In our view the best were performances were from Papua New Guinea (several tribes), the Solomon Islands, Fiji, the Cook Islands, New Zealand, and Tahiti. We talked to people all week long from all over the Pacific. The effect of Christian missionaries was palpable as some groups were quite modest in their attire, while others adhered to their pre-Christian traditions. This event was almost worth crossing an ocean for in and of itself. We will let the photographs speak for themselves.

A TALE OF TWO PASSAGES:

So, here you are, reading our blog, thinking how lovely and romantic and lucky we are. Well, you are correct, we are lucky, and we don’t take a moment of our good fortune for granted. However, if your notion of cruising runs along the lines of sailing off into the sunset whist drinking fruity cocktails with flowers and lazing about on deck, you are imagining a fantasy.

We work really hard, every day, all day, to keep things moving along on s/v Grace. We did, however, have one of our most enjoyable long sails as we left Bora Bora in French Polynesia and headed towards the Cook Islands. We had five days and nights of steady breezes from the East and we were on a deep broad reach with both genoa and the staysail poled-out. The motion of the boat was not unpleasant, and we were quite alone out there. Each of us took turns sleeping and keeping watch at night and during the day we both stayed on deck together. We were able to cook, eat, read, and even converse.

On the other hand, we had quite a different passage of (thankfully only) three days and three nights when coming from Suwarrow to American Samoa. The winds were brisk from the “get go”. It was turbulent, messy, jerky, and a bit scary. We had everything from a beam reach to a broad reach. We started with a double reefed main and the staysail, then struck the staysail and sailed with only the double reefed main, and then were down to the staysail alone by the first night. We did not cook. One of us did not eat. We each took our watches and then hurried down below to hot bunk in the sea berth. We each huddled under the dodger while on watch, trying desperately not to get too wet from the two sets of swells; one 8-12 feet quartering, the second set hitting us on the beam every few minutes. These waves were not small. On a couple of occasions, the gunwale was in the water as we were rolled over about 45 degrees. By the time we arrived in Pago Pago, we were exhausted, wet, salty, and ready to take a long nap and then a break ashore.

And we were the lucky ones. Other boats suffered damage to their masts, furling gear, electronics and more during this stormy period. (You will notice that we are not able to take photos during these conditions)

SUWARROW ATOLL (Cook Islands):

Suwarrow Island is unlike anyplace we have ever been before. Upon arrival it appeared to us as the epitome of the idyllic south pacific atoll. Geographically, Suwarrow is several little islets, motus, clumps of land, interspersed with long, hidden and very malevolent reefs.

We arrived during an uncharacteristic period of very high winds. This tested our ability to withstand a gale a anchor, doing without much sleep or comfort, as GRACE pitched and swerved and moved constantly in the large swells in the lagoon. We anchored off Anchorage Island, which is where the atoll's only residents live, the "warden", his wife, and their four sons.

Eight boats were with us in the anchorage. One each from the Canada, Holland, New Zealand and Australia, two from France and two from the US. Amongst them, six kids, a professional crew couple, and a dog. Radio calls come in several languages, although English is the lingua franca. Courtesy and goodwill abound. Astounding to note that French sailors have heard of s/v Grace as an American boat that does speak/understand some French. Ha! We even got credit for another radio relay that was done by a Frenchwoman NOT by us.

When the seas died down a bit the brave crawled into their dinghies to hazard the crossing to visit other boats in the anchorage for some tea/coffee/scotch/ intellectual stimulation/games/books, magazine and DVD trading. A relatively recent Economist Magazine is a hot item.

You can’t help but wonder how many boats and gear etc. are eaten up by these reefs over the years, as they get mercilessly stolen by the seas as one clambers up and down from the dingy to the sailboat, with waves smashing you and boat and gear against the hull. Suwarrow lagoon is filled with sharks, rays, and large sea turtles. We were amazed at how the sharks would congregate around the boats, as if waiting for us to either jump into the water or to throw them some goodies. All they got from us was Sally’s rubber shoe.

We have loved Suwarrow. Not just a small bit, but alot. The atoll is gorgeous. There are more colors of blue in the water than one can possibly imagine. We have seen colonies of sea cucumbers, eels, lizards, and plenty of coconut crabs. The family living here is quite lovely. "John" is serious about protecting the atoll and its natural beauty. He is also a wonderful storyteller. One night, we all had a potluck ashore. John and Veronica's sons had caught some grouper, so Geoff helped grill those for everyone; they also made coconut pancakes, and had Sally slicing and then frying breadfruit -- like potato crisps. Veronica and Sally traded family stories in the "kitchen" while cooking together. During the time they are there, their protein source is either freshly caught fish or SPAM. (What a choice!)

We left an IHYC burgee at the "Suwarrow Yacht Club" with s/v Grace and our names, just in case any others come by and recognize it.

It was easy to feel part of a family here on this atoll. When we sailed off, we were given pleasant goodbyes via radio from the other boats in the anchorage, and Jeremiah, John and Veronica's 12 year old son, stood ashore blowing a conch horn in honor of our departure.

FRENCH POLYNESIA

Ou vas tu nuage?
Je ne sais, enfant
Je fait mon voyage
Comme il plait au vent.
(HS French class – merci Mme. Feinglass!)

Meeting and Leaving:

We have found that the cruising life is either very social or extremely solitary. When in a larger port, we often find ourselves part of nightly social events with friends and other cruising sailors. On the other hand, we are in such ports infrequently. Much of the time, we are in quiet anchorages with few if any other boats. On passage, we are very definitely alone. The contrast is striking and makes us appreciate both our solitude and our periods of frequent interaction with other cruisers and the locals we meet along the way.

Cruisers have different reactions as they meet each new environment. A few miss the comforts of familiar food or language. We find that we relish the differences, adapting well to the change from fresh tortillas to fresh baguettes, from tacos to steak frites. While our French is far from fluent, between the two of us we can communicate well enough, earning comments from the locals who are surprised to hear Americans speaking any French, however bad.

Some things remain the same. Everywhere, we are able to find local cookies to stoke Geoff’s habit. Despite Sally’s culinary prowess, she has thus far proven herself incapable of making bread in a pressure cooker that is palatable. Some things are best given up.

MORTALITY AND MORBITIY (human and equipment):

Human: We have been struck by the number of friends and acquaintances amongst the cruising community who have suffered from serious illness during this past year. For example: three heart attack/stroke victims; one case of leukemia; one case of brain cancer; one case of heart failure and, of course, Sally’s injuries from being hit by a motorcycle. Fortunately, all of these folks are still very much alive and kicking.

At first, we thought this record of illness was pretty extraordinary. But perhaps not. The average lifespan in the US is in the 70s for both men and women. So, if the arithmetic is to work, a lot of us have to be moving-on in our 50s and 60s. This, of course, is just the age group constituting most of the cruising community. So, we have concluded that what seems a high rate of morbidity is likely just a reflection of the age group of which we are a part and with which we generally travel. A reminder not to take life for granted.

Equipment: Stainless steel is an oxymoron. Sally has not been happy to see how much rust can accumulate on supposedly “stainless” steel. After years of using “NeverDull”, fellow cruiser Carl on s/v Liberty, has introduced us to the best defense against rust on a boat: a good scrub with WD-40. It removes the rust and keeps it away for much longer than any other product we have tried.

We have also been surprised at how much chafe and general wear-and-tear there is on lines and equipment, even blocks. A new Lewmar block (2 ton safe working load!) suffered from a bent axel after only a few days trial at sea. These are not just annoyances, but real problems as one cannot just replace gear at sea nor in the tiny anchorages we often frequent.

BORA BORA:

We had a lovely time on Bora Bora. We were able to anchor in the lee of a motu inside the reef, and it has been the calmest anchorage we have been to yet. We were welcomed by friends Horst and Julia on s/v Pacific Star, and felt like we had arrived in paradise. We dingyed to the main island for groceries, bank, and official documentations, and to the reef for spectacular views of literally dozens for large manta rays that would come up to the dingy looking for snacks. Sunsets were gorgeous.

We enjoyed the local festival of “artisan mamas” making items out of palm leaves, and virile men husking coconuts for the copra. We walked from the famed restaurant “Bloody Mary’s” (where we ate some of the best fish ever) to the other side of Bora Bora to the beach which was full of children playing in beautiful waters.

Our final night in Bora Bora was at the Bora Bora Yacht Club, where we had a lovely hot shower “a deux”, cool drinks and delightful atmosphere. In general, we found French Polynesia to be beautiful, affluent, and verdant. We were able to find all sorts of culinary delicacies -- even in small stores in Quaint villages.

It is easy to understand why it is such a popular vacation destination.

RAIATEA:

This is where the only boatyards outside of Tahiti can be found. We arrived as our friends Dave and Candy put s/v CHINOOK on the hard. It was sad to say “goodbye”. They will be back to cruise French Polynesia next year. This is also where Paul and Gina left s/v SOLACE while Paul gets much needed medical care back home in New Zealand. We will miss both couples as we move ahead. Some people you meet while at sea are “keepers”. We plan to visit Paul and Gina on South Island sometime in coming months.

In French Polynesia, they do not use propane for cooking, they use butane. OK, no big deal, yet they also use different nozzles and do not necessarily use a pump to transfer the gas. We had to watch while our tank was gravity-fed with butane. Effective, but seemingly a bit crude given the explosive nature of butane.

TAHA'A:

The Vanilla Island. This has perhaps been our favorite place thus far. Everything can and does grow here. We learned about Nono fruit which produces a serotonin equivalent, it also has roots that have an antiseptic quality.

A local woman commented that the men here are lazy. Why work if they don’t need to in order to survive? Fruit and veggies grow wild and in abundance here. If you are hungry you just can grab a fish or a chicken or some fruit from anywhere around you, you don’t need to work hard.

We took a free mooring at a Pearl Farm. The farm guide (Maurice) was very talkative about island agriculture and life. Tahitian pearls come from an oyster called the “pinctada margaritifera”. The characteristic hues of the Tahitian pearls come from the variegated nacre of the shell. He arranged for Karl, who used to teach native Tahitian dancing in Papeete, to give us a ride in his car to a neighboring vanilla farm, inherited by a Tahitian woman from her grandfather and run by her and her Danish ex-French Foreign Legion husband. The air was redolent of drying vanilla. This couple’s family farm does not use greenhouses, a practice that is being promoted by the local government. They must first plant a host tree and cultivate the vanilla orchid on its host. After 3 years the vanilla is suitable to be harvested. The vanilla must be dried (like tobacco leaves). It is difficult for this small producer to sell to world markets. Prices to the grower are very low, yet vanilla commands a very high retail price. Smaller vanilla beans are the best. We left feeling as if our pores were secreting vanilla. It was wonderful, and we had a great walk back to the boat.

Flowers adorn everything, bougainvilleas on drinks in bars, flowers behind left or right ear (depending on married or not), and it seems all elderly ladies heads are encircled with wreathes of mixed flowers in their hair, going about daily lives.

Taha’a is characterized by deep anchorages, with mooring balls if we’re lucky. There is a circling reef with beautiful scenery in every direction one looks; Bora Bora hovers in the distance. After a nasty squall where visibility was nil, we found a safe spot just two boat lengths from very large scratchy reef for two nights. We were alone in paradise and it was beautiful. Geoff did a drift dive in one of the passes and got to see lots of coral and fish.

At Marina Iti (really a small pension, not a marina), we were met by Maui, a local from Bora Bora. The dockside is an aquarium of all sorts of fish. Trumpet fish, lemon yellow butterfly fish, sea cucumbers, urchins. A veritable Tsukiji Fish Market of live fish. Beautiful. We arrived when they have their weekly local buffet dinner. Dined on breadfruit, taro root, poisson cru, mahi-mahi, chicken stew and other local yummies. (Breadfruit tastes like starchy potato.) While we enjoyed the food, a family from down the bay came by and began to entertain us with local drum music, singing, dancing and ending with fire dancing on the beach. Three generations of family members were there – from the sons (aged about 9 and 12) to the sisters, the parents, the uncles and aunts and perhaps even the grandfather. It was a magical night. And it was neither touristy nor hokey. Oh, and we got shore side showers here. What a real treat!

HUAHINE:

The “island of women”. We were stuck here by high winds and rain for 4 days, anchored in a deep harbor. We found ourselves adapting to a routine aboard the boat, even though we did not go ashore nor move the boat. When the storm passed we were able to move closer to the main town, and go ashore. Not a lot of French is spoken here, and people are very loyal to their Polynesian past. Sally rented a car (only manual transmissions available) and we circumnavigated both Huahine Nui and Huahine Iti islands. Since Sally has not driven a stick shift in 30 years, and not very often even then, it was quite the adventure driving around in huge rainfalls, up and down mountains, stalling whenever we had to come to a stop while going up a mountain. Sally worked the steering wheel and pedals while Geoff manned the emergency brake. It was certainly an adventure.

Wednesday was market day, so it seemed everyone on the island, just for the fun of it, came and hung-around the grocery store. Sounds of drumming and singing resonated in the harbor every night as different neighborhood groups prepared for the Haeva (singing and dancing festival) in July.

We joined several other boats in a beach picnic. It was great fun with Dutch, Kiwi, French, Italian, German, Canadian and American boats participating, and watching the children all playing together in the sand and water with each other and local kids who joined in the fun.