To Err is Human...

Looking back on my 18 months of various trips, I have been pretty lucky with plans coming together.  So I was probably overdue for some mishaps.  They came this week, and although relatively minor, they were still frustrating - and wasted my time and money.

The week began with a 2-hour bus trip from Zadar to Plitvice, where I would spend a few days hiking around the Lakes National Park.  Sounds easy enough, right?

Well, no.  I managed to screw it up.  Twice.

First, I booked my hotel for the wrong days.  Upon arriving at the Miric Inn, located just outside the Park, I found out that according to their reservation book (and to my confirmation email which I clearly hadn’t read closely), I was a week early!  

My heart was set on staying at this cozy bed & breakfast style inn; and fortunately, they still had a room available for the two nights I would be there.  It was bigger and more expensive, but I took it.  

Second, I hadn't checked the forecast - which was for heavy thundershowers.  On my 2-week sailing charter, every day will begin with weather analysis.  But here on land, after two weeks of nonstop sunshine, I guess I just took the sun for granted.  In this case, the forecast came true; it rained both days I was in Plitvice trying to hike.

With my normal set of travel gear – which includes boots and waterproof jacket – I would have been ok.  “There is no bad weather, just bad gear.” 

But on this trip to Croatia, I didn’t even bring my hiking boots because I had hoped I would be sailing a lot of the time.  And my waterproof jacket?  I brought it, but it was in my sailing bag, which I had left at the Sunsail office a couple of weeks ago so that I could travel ultra-light on this impromptu road trip.  Whoops.  

Had I checked the weather forecast beforehand, I might have postponed my trip a couple of days.  And then in fact my hotel booking might have turned out to be correct!

Despite these planning and packing errors, I still managed to visit the Park during breaks in the rain.  I spent 3-4 hours each day walking the trails around the beautiful lakes, waterfalls, and cliffs. I've posted a few pics below.

In the same week, I made another error in travel booking.  Planning for November, I screwed up my airline flights to Fiji and New Zealand for the upcoming sailing trip.  We are sailing from Fiji to New Zealand, but I mistakenly booked my return ticket to SFO from Fiji, not from New Zealand!

Trying to correct this error, I spent over 3 hours on the phone with Travelocity, on 3 different calls, with probably 6 different representatives.  In the 3 hours on the phone, I was probably on hold for over 2 hours.  What was most frustrating is the 3rd hour ended with us being disconnected!  At that point, I just gave up and will figure it out when the time comes.

I also had the pleasure of dealing with Hotels.com for another hour on the phone.  Again, trying to plan in advance, I had booked a hotel on the island of Hvar.  After getting the confirmation from Hotels.com, I later received an email saying the hotel denied my reservation because there was a problem with my credit card.  So I called my bank and spent 30 minutes with them going over transactions, and finally concluded that everything was ok.  In fact, they didn’t even have a record of the hotel trying to charge my card. 

So I called Hotels.com and after an hour, we finally found out that the hotel denied my reservation not because of my credit card, but because the hotel was full.  I explained to Hotels.com that the hotel should admit the error in posting non-existent inventory, rather than blame it on my credit card (which had the downstream effect of me spending time on the phone with my bank). To Hotels.com's credit, they gave me a $100 coupon for my troubles.

All of this happened while I was in Plitvice, waiting out the rain.

Later in the week, after exploring the Park, I made my way back south by bus, passing through Zadar, Trogir, and Split – spending a night in each town.  Then I took a ferry over to the island of Hvar, where I have hunkered down for the last several days.

And that brings up the last frustrating event of the week:  I’ve come down with a serious cold.   

Too many crowded, dirty bus rides?  Too much hiking in the cold weather without proper gear?  Too many restless nights in different hotel beds?  Too many pastries and not enough fruit for breakfast? 

I was hoping a few nights in my Hvar apartment would have provided me some stability and enabled me to get well before sailing.  But here it is Monday morning and I’m still pretty bad.

I’ll make my way back to Trogir tomorrow, where I will again hunker down for 4 days before the charter begins.  Hopefully I’ll get well.

As several people have pointed out, rarely do I write about the “bad” stuff that happens on the road.  So this update may be a bit unusual and sort of whiney.  But I decided to share this as proof that life on the road isn't always as easy and stress-free as it sounds.  Things go wrong here, just like they do at home.  And boy do I hate calling 1-800 numbers at this point.

Anyway, I'll end with the good stuff:

Plitvice Lakes National Park is magnificent!  There are cool trails of wooden planks over lakes and waterfalls, and dirt paths right along side some of the clearest water I’ve ever seen.  Despite the rain, I had several good hours in the park. 

I continue to have good luck with my apartment and hotel choices.  Miric Inn in Mukinje village was awesome.  Super friendly staff; clean, updated rooms; a great breakfast buffet, and a superb dinner service complete with complimentary homemade plum brandy. 

Later in the week, I returned to Zadar, where I stayed at Apartment Donat, in the upstairs penthouse studio with a magnificent view.  In Trogir, I returned to the Palace Central Apartments where Ivan and Danielja were waiting for me.  In Split, I opted for an Airbnb apartment that was huge and only 3 minutes from the beach.  And lastly in Hvar, I picked an Airbnb apartment in a 15th century house with a small balcony, kitchenette, and very nice host. 

That’s about it for this week.   The planning and packing errors are just sort of a nuisance and embarrassment.  The illness is really the only thing that is troubling.  I've been to the pharmacy and picked up some meds so we'll see if those help.  

Plitvice Lakes National Park - hiking along the trail.

Plitvice Lakes National Park - from the cliffs above.

Plitvice Lakes National Park - the trail along one of the 16 lakes in the park.  

Plitvice Lakes National Park - me in front of one of the many waterfalls.

Plitvice Lakes National Park - from the cliffs above.

The water is so clear!  Look closely in the middle of the pic and you can see a fish eating another fish!

Taking the Plunge

I spent the last week traveling by land yacht (bus) along the Dalmatian Coast of Croatia.  As you might imagine, the impromptu road trip yielded many new experiences and a few “firsts”.

My route took me north from Split, stopping at the towns of Trogir, Vodice, and Zadar.   

Each of these towns (including Split) have similar features:  remnants of ancient walls, fortresses, and cathedrals; narrow cobblestone streets; coastal promenades; beaches; and lots of ice cream shops. 

But the vibe in each town is very different.  Which is best?  That’s impossible to answer because it just depends on what you’re looking for.  Each town has its unique personality – to be discovered (and interpreted) by each visitor individually.  

This week, I bravely explored a few “firsts”.

International Charter Prep.  From Trogir, I took a short day trip to the small town of Marina, where the charter company Sunsail operates.  I stopped by the Agana Marina (confusingly in the town of “Marina”) to drop off my sailing gear and check out the facilities.  I didn’t see our actual boat, but the charter operation looks top-notch.  Very excited to skipper my first international charter in a few weeks!

Cuisine.  Up until now, in terms of local cuisine, I had really only tried slow-cooked lamb in Split, and a few pizzas and Greek salads.   This road trip gave me the perfect opportunity to go deeper.  It was time to try to seafood.  I splurged with octopus salad, mussels, and grilled sea bass.  Plus the fabulous sides of home baked bread, fresh olive oil, Dalmatian-style chard, and local white wine.   I've posted several photos on Facebook (@dannyboytravels) highlighting the dishes.

Ice Cream.  United States has a Starbucks on every corner.  Croatia has ice cream shops on every corner.  Everyone eats it.  And it's CHEAP.  A single scoop cone is 8 kuna, or just over $1 USD.  I love ice cream, but it's generally sometime I don't splurge on when I travel.  But here, I just had to try to.  Yum!  One morning, I couldn't order a fruit smoothie because it was "too early" (it was 9:45am) but they would serve me an ice cream cone.  Go figure.

Adriatic Sea.  In Zadar, I finally took my first plunge into the Adriatic Sea.  Up until this point, I was a bit nervous about it because (a) the water is pretty cold and (b) the coast is rocky.  On one of my first days in Split, I saw a tourist emerge from the water with a bloody lacerated foot because he’d stepped on a sharp rock, broken glass, or nasty sea creature.  If you look closely, all the locals wear crocs or other “water shoes” to protect their feet (except at sandy Bacvice Beach, south of Split).

Anyway, in Zadar, I found the perfect place where I could jump off the rocky cliff into deep water without having to walk out in shallow rocky water.  I could also climb back out on a metal ladder that someone had installed.  (These metal, swimming-pool style ladders are pretty common along the rocky coast.  You don’t want to be scaling the sharp rocky edge as the waves bash you.) 

My swimming spot was at the southern end of the ‘peninsula’ on which Zadar sits.  I had walked down to find a highly-rated café there, Tequila Sunrise.  As it turns out, right next to the café is this great swimming, and jumping, spot.  So I gathered up my nerve and jumped off a 5-foot high cliff into the water. 

Ahh, so refreshing!  Cold, but refreshing.  I took another few jumps off the rocks, each time going a bit higher.  I also enjoyed watching an older man do some really crazy high jumps, seemingly intentionally trying to land as close to the rocks as possible. 

Jumping off into the water was addicting.  On my walk back along the peninsula to the center of Zadar, I stopped by the north end of the peninsula, and jumped in again!  This is where the famous ‘sea organ’ is.  This man-made contraption generates church organ like tones as the waves roll into the stone wall and force air through a variety of holes.  It’s really eerie, especially sitting at sunset, which I did a few times during the week.  I took a recording; I’ll see if I can post something.

The rest of the week was filled with normal stuff.  Lots of walking.  Lots of cafes.

I did stop by a couple of more marinas and charter companies, mostly in Trogir, looking for volunteering or sailing opportunities.  Once again, I was met with negative responses.  The one contact / referral I did receive only resulted in an eventual negative response as well (but with some good tips on how to get a work visa).  That said, I am getting a little traction on some online sailing/crewing websites… not for Croatia, but for adventures in the distant future.  

At the end of the week, I continued my bus trip north – but turned inland.  I’m now at the National Park “Plitvicka-Jezera” (or, Plitvice) where there are a series of lakes and waterfalls.  I took a quick 3-hour walk around the Park this evening and it is amazing.  I’ll post pictures and include that story in my update next week.

On the administrative side, I have changed my return flight from November 15 to October 23.  I’m returning to San Francisco early so that I can pick up my offshore sailing gear.  I’ll head immediately to Fiji where I will be reunited with the sailing vessel Avalon and her skipper Tom.  We’ll make the return sail to New Zealand in November! 

Jumping off a small cliff into the Adriatic Sea for the first time.  Warning:  Don't zoom in - beware the farmer's tan and executive's body.

Facial expression as I hit the cold, salty water for the first time.

View from the fortress (see lower left for corner of fortress wall) at the end of the promenade in Trogir.  I watched a few super-yachts dock alongside here for the evening out.

View from within the fortress.  15th century if I recall correctly.

The "forum" in Zadar.  Seemed like there was a plaza and/or cafe-bar around every corner.  Even moreso than Split perhaps.

The thing to do in Zadar:  Head to the north end of the peninsula where the "sea organ" hums to the motion of the ocean.  Enjoy a beer, your date, and/or a last swim of the day.

Another plaza in Zadar.  Note that Zadar was voted "Best European Destination of 2016".  Hopefully the Croatian Tourist Office wasn't the only one voting!

Splitting Split

As my first week in Croatia comes to an end, I wish I could report more exciting news. 

Like:  “I’m volunteering for an organization that is restoring the historic buildings here in Old Town.”

Or maybe:  “I’m sailing around the islands on a catamaran.”

Even:  “I’m helping out in a family-run restaurant.”

Sadly, no.  The truth is I’ve just been soaking in the European vacation life – minus the sunbathing and smoking.  

I’ve spent a lot of time in the cafes along the Riva.  It’s perfectly normal in this culture to sit down at a table, order of coffee, and stay for an hour or two without ordering anything else.  A full meal with a group of friends (or laptop, in my case) might take 3-4 hours, no problem.

I’ve also done a lot of walking. I’m probably averaging 5-7 miles a day up and down the beach, promenade, and cobblestone streets.  I even went running a few times, enjoying the funny looks people give me.  I guess running isn’t so big here.  After one of my runs, I swore I was going to jump into the Adriatic Sea for a swim.  But the cold water scared me off.  Maybe when we’re sailing…

My apartment has been good, not great.  It has a kitchenette, so I’ve saved some money by eating breakfast and a few dinners at home; and I usually pack a sandwich and fruit for lunch on my walking adventures.  That said, I’ve also had a few typical Croatian meals; my favorite thus far has been the slow-cooked lamb at Pikulece.

I love Split, but I'm already feeling the urge to see other parts of Croatia.  So as of this morning, I've turned in my keys to the apartment and am now sitting at my favorite cafe trying to figure out transportation north.  My plan is to swing by the marina in Trogir, drop off my sailing gear, and travel light to northern part of the Croatian coastline – Vodice, Zadar, and Opatija.  

At least that’s the plan as of 10:30am this morning.  The fun part is, it could all change again tomorrow!  

Miniature model of Old Town / Diocletian's Palace.

Cliff diving is a popular activity along the coast.

Music videos projected on the wall of Diocletian's Palace. 

Settled In Split

Here is my first update from Split, Croatia!

I’ve rented a one-bedroom apartment in the heart of Old Town that will be my home base for the next few weeks.  

Getting here, though, was a bit more challenging than I expected.  My flight from San Francisco to Frankfurt was delayed two hours, so I missed my connecting flight to Split.  Luckily, United found me a flight from Frankfurt to Munich, and then Munich to Split – still arriving the same day, but a very long day. 

Then, finally arriving in Split, I hired a taxi to take me to my apartment.  But, not having done my homework, I didn’t realize that Old Town is pedestrian-only.  The taxi driver could only drop me at the edge of Old Town, forcing me to walk the rest of the way.  I didn't have a detailed map or functioning GPS on my iPhone.  I only had a high-level screenshot I took from hotels.com.  Any of you who have been to Split will understand the difficulty I faced.  The maze of narrow, unmarked streets is quite difficult to navigate at first, even if you have a map!

As I lumbered through the streets with my bags (remember, I have an additional third bag this trip full of sailing gear), I asked a few people for help.  I never like to be "that guy" - the obviously lost tourist stumbling around with his bags.  But I was, this time.    

A young woman named Darin was the most helpful. She left her position at a retail shop to walk around town with me until we finally found the apartment building.  I repaid her that evening with a drink at the heavy metal bar “Splash” that she hangs out at.  Meeting a few locals at a cool bar was a great way to end my long day of travel, even if I forgot to pack my Septicflesh or Deathstar concert T-shirts.

Over the weekend, I spent the afternoons walking along coastline around Old Town.   The main beach is Bacvice Beach, to the south of Old Town.  As the only sandy beach in the area, it is jam-packed with sun-worshippers.  The shallow water extends for a couple hundred yards, which makes it the perfect spot for wading or playing with a small soccer ball or handball, while showing off your perfectly tan, fit body.  I resisted the urge to do the same, and instead sat in the shade with a hat, a sandwich, and a cold beer-flavored water.

In the evening, the bars lining this beach pump out music and cocktails until dawn. I may or may not know that first hand.

To the north (and in other parts to the south) of Old Town, the coastline is pretty rocky with cliffs 1 to 4 meters high.  But that doesn’t stop the beachgoers.  The rocks are lined with people sun-bathing and testing their wits jumping off their perch into the swirling water below. 

In the evenings, I have enjoyed meandering the streets of Old Town - this time getting lost on purpose.  I walk back along the waterfront, watching the boats return to port and admiring the glow of the setting sun reflecting off the stone walls of this historic town.

As night sets in, people don their fancy evening wear and stroll the streets to strut their stuff along the waterfront boardwalk called the Riva, short for Riviera.  I sit at a corner cafe and watch the show while pretending to be important and really busy on my laptop.

I have not just been exploring the beaches and Old Town.  I’ve also been exploring volunteering and sailing opportunities. 

Unfortunately, I haven’t had much luck yet.

I found one volunteering gig, which involved helping restore a sailboat, while staying on the sailboat.  It sounded perfect until the host admitted there was no shower available.  I decided that was a deal breaker even though the host suggested I just take a swim or use the beach shower.  Thanks, but I’ll pass. 

As for sailing, I talked to the local marina and they were basically of no help.  I’ve also been scouring websites like www.findacrew.net and www.crewbay.com.  A lot of the skippers online are looking for “female crew only.”  Hmm, I’m not sure I’d want to be on that boat even if I was a woman. 

I’m discouraged a bit, but Split is such an interesting place I might just stay here and enjoy myself while researching how to launch a kickstarter or gofundme campaign :-)

With the apartment as home base, I hope to take some day trips out to the surrounding small towns in the country or along the coast.  I’ll save the island adventures for when I pick up the sailboat in a few weeks.  The apartment rent will be week-to-week so If I find that volunteering or sailing opportunity, I can still revert back to my original plan.  Time will tell, and I have plenty of it....

P.S.  Going forward, I’ll be posting regular weekly updates early Monday morning, California time.  

Hello, Split!

The Riva, or Riviera.

Don't *any* of these boats want to go sailing with me?

Evening walk through the narrow streets.

Another narrow street.  Waiter taking a break from busy restaurant duties.

The cathedral in the moonlight.

To Oregon and Back

I haven’t written for a couple of weeks – not because I haven’t been doing anything.  In fact, I’ve been moving around quite a bit and just lost track of time.  Unfortunately, I’ve lost track of my budget, too.  Here's the update.

Since my last entry (“Hunting and Gathering” in Oregon), I continued my drive north and met my parents at their new home in McMinnville, Oregon.  What a fantastic community they have found!  Green, friendly, quiet, safe, clean – classic Oregon.

I returned to the San Francisco Bay Area for about a week – once again bouncing around between hotels and Airbnb hosts.  One host couple – Nick and Andrea – was particularly friendly, generous…and talented as it turns out!  Check out Andrea’s music at Andrea Belita on YouTube. She has already recorded an album, and I can’t wait to see how her music career develops.  Thank you, Andrea, for giving me a special live performance of your new single, too. 

In late July, I flew back to Oregon for a family reunion at my parents’ beach house in Manzanita.  The 10 of us packed the weekend with beach walks, hikes, jigsaw puzzles, board games, and lots of snacks.  Good times!  I stayed over in Portland, too, which is quickly becoming one of my favorite cities.  So many cool little neighborhoods popping up!

I’m now back in the Bay Area, house-sitting again for my friends Melissa and Griff at their beautiful home in the quaint East Bay town of Orinda.  This is the perfect place to get some peace and quiet, and plan for my upcoming 3-month adventure in Croatia.  I leave in just over a week! 

Staying at this house for an extended period of time will help me try to get back on budget.  I won’t be spending money on accommodations, and I can do some grocery shopping and home cooking.

Ah, yes, my budget…  I try not to talk about my spending, except for some high level comments in the article Business Insider published about me. 

Let’s just say that I have learned a valuable lesson about my new lifestyle.  Well, maybe it’s less of a lesson and more of a reminder.  The SF Bay Area is SO expensive!  Especially if you are jobless and homeless!  My choice to stay here from June 6 to August 17 was a mistake.  Despite a fabulous volunteering opportunity Glen Ellen, two great house-sitting opportunities in Menlo Park and Orinda, and free housing with my family in Oregon, I have spent way too many nights in hotels and Airbnb over these last two months.  

My future “breaks” between adventures will have to be shorter, and perhaps in a cheaper location within spitting distance of the SF Bay Area – so that I can pop into my storage unit briefly to change gear, but then get out immediately.  A geographic version of "hot potato" so to speak. 

While chartering a 42-foot sailboat in Croatia for 2 weeks isn’t going to help me get back on budget, I’m hopeful that my other 10 weeks in Croatia will be at the other end of the spending spectrum – volunteering in exchange for accommodation. 

And hopefully it will be the kind of accommodation that floats on the water and moves with the wind…

Beach walk at low tide.  I found five sand dollars!

Hoping the tide doesn't come in too quickly...

Sunset at Manzanita.

Hunting and Gathering

My uncle Bruce and I have had some exciting adventures in exotic lands like Uruguay, Panama, and Mexico. 

But he now lives in the quaint coastal town of Florence, Oregon.   So, as I pulled into the driveway, surrounded by a perfectly maintained garden and greenhouse, I wasn’t expecting much except a couple of days of long beach walks and good food.

Well, that’s sort of what happened.  We did take some long beach walks with his wife Mai and dog Isabel.  And we ate excellent food.

What Bruce didn’t tell me is we were going to “hunt and gather” for our food!

The “hunting” took the form of crabbing – setting crab pots and capturing Dungeness crab.  The “gathering” took the form of picking berries, beans, and other goodies from his vegetable garden.

Now, we have all probably picked freshly grown vegetables and berries at one time or another.  It’s fun and feels good, but it just isn’t that exciting or unique.  So I’ll mostly skip that part.

But crabbing?   Cool!  My only previous experience with crabbing has been trying to avoid crab pots as I sailed down the California Coast.  Now don’t get too excited, our little crabbing adventure was (fortunately) nothing like what you’ve seen on TV’s “Deadliest Catch.” 

Here’s a short recap of crabbing with Uncle Bruce.

Crab pots are metal cages with gates that swing open only one direction.  Fresh bait hangs in the middle of the cage.  When launched, the crab pot sits on the bottom of the ocean (or river in our case).  A long line runs to the surface, where a buoy at the end of the line marks the pot’s location for easy retrieval.  Our non-industrial sized pots were about 2’ x 2’ x 1’.   We had six of these pots, plus all the accompanying gear. 

Now, licenses or permits limit the number of pots-per-person.  And there are rules about size, sex, and quantity of crabs that a person is allowed to catch in a given day. 

The specific crab we were hunting was the famous and fabulously delicious Dungeness crab.  The law dictates that crabs must be 5.75 inches across the back, and male; smaller crabs and all female crabs must be released.  Unofficially, older crabs, sometimes identified as “moss backs” because of the dark coloration and/or growth on their backs, are typically more meaty than younger crabs of the same sex and size. 

Fueled by a hearty breakfast of eggs, bacon, and coffee, we loaded Bruce’s 15-foot motorboat with the crab pots, bait, lines and buoys, life vests, gasoline, and of course a big bucket to hold our bounty should we get lucky today.  We towed the boat behind his Jeep, and made our way to the nearby Siuslaw River, where we launched the craft. 

It was a foggy, misty morning – typical Oregon Coast.   We motored down river slowly at first, passing under a very cool drawbridge that is being restore by the city of Florence.   We then passed some big sand dunes and a herd of seals on the beach.  It was very scenic, like something out of a movie.

We were about one mile from the Pacific Ocean.  At certain times the tidal current would bring the bright red/orange creatures up river.  This was perfect for us, since we weren’t about to go out in the open ocean in our small vessel, especially not along the unforgiving Oregon Coast.

We maneuvered the boat out of the main channel and headed a bit closer to shore, until we were in about 15 feet of water.  We prepared the pots by clipping the bait and line to each pot.  We tossed the 6 fully-assembled pots overboard, one by one, spacing them out in two different parts of the river.  We made mental notes of the approximate location of each pot, as indicated by the buoys bobbing in the gentle river current.

We waited about 15-20 minutes, and then circled back to each buoy to retrieve the pot sitting on the riverbed below.  At this point, I was driving the boat as Bruce prepared to do the dirty work of hauling up the pots and inspecting the crabs one by one.

Carefully accounting for the current (both tidal and river), I maneuvered the boat upriver, so we would float slowly past the buoy, at which point Bruce grabbed the line and hauled up the pot.  It reminded me a bit of all the person-overboard practice we do in sailing.

Bruce hauled the first pot out of the water.  Jackpot!  It was full of crabs!!  We dumped them into the bucket, measured each one using a special ruler that fit over the crab’s back, and inspected the underside to determine whether the catch was male or female.  We were constantly watching our fingers, too, keeping them clear of the snapping pincers.

Out of the 10 or so crabs in that first pot, only one was legal.  That was ok.  At least we knew we would be having some crab for dinner tonight!

In the second pot, the only right-sized crab was female.  Bummer.  But rather than throw her back in the water, we left her in the crab pot and re-launched the pot, hoping she would attract equal-sized males into the pot. 

And so it went.  For the next hour or so, we launched and retrieved the pots multiple times.  Our “live female bait” did not end up attracting any legally-sized males, unfortunately.  But our fresh salmon bait seemed to work just fine.  We ended up with 6 full-sized crabs – which was plenty for dinner tonight, and probably lunch tomorrow!  

Satisfied, we packed up the equipment and headed back to the boat ramp.  As we approached, the Fish and Game Warden came down to the dock to meet us.  He asked us what time we started / stopped crabbing, where we dropped the pots, how many crabs we caught, etc.  We gave him all the information he required.  He took a brief look at our bucket, and while he didn’t count “6” he could tell we didn’t have substantially more or less than that.  And he didn’t measure any of them.  We weren’t worried since we knew ours were perfectly legal.

Having passed inspection, we loaded the boat onto the trailer, and drove the short 10-minute drive home.  After cleaning and washing down the boat, we then set up a huge pot in the back yard, over a gas burner, where we would boil the crabs.  While the water boiled, Mai and I picked fresh strawberries and blueberries from the garden.  We boiled, chilled, and cleaned the crabs. 

That night, we enjoyed a true hunter-gatherer meal:  fresh crab from the river and fresh salad and berries from the garden, complimented by white wine which was by all means an acceptable deviation.

It was a great day!   Thanks Bruce and Mai!

I failed at squid in Thailand.  Let's see about crabs in Oregon.

YES!  We caught some crabs for dinner!

Goodbye Glendale!

After a couple of weeks of working in Sonoma and sailing on the Bay, it was time for my next adventure:  a road trip!

My parents are downsizing and moving to Oregon, so I volunteered to drive one of their cars from Los Angeles to Portland.   This also meant, of course, saying goodbye to my childhood house in Glendale.

On Sunday, July 10, I flew from San Francisco to the Glendale/Burbank airport, where my parents picked me up and took me to our Glendale house.  This would be my last visit to the house.  My parents had just hosted the final estate sale, so the house was pretty empty.  In a strange way, though, the emptiness revealed the raw beauty and detailed features of the house:  Spanish tiled stairs, hard wood floors, wrought iron gates and railings, stained glass, vaulted ceiling, etc.

On my previous visit a couple of weeks ago, I took a lot of pictures as well as a walk-though video.  Therefore, on this visit, I didn’t stay at the house for long – just a couple of hours.  This was enough time to watch the Euro Cup Final and get instructions on how to drive a Toyota Prius.

By mid-afternoon, I was standing in the front yard with my parents taking a final picture of me by the "For Sale - Sold" sign.  I said farewell to the house, but packed myself and the memories in the Prius and headed north.  

It was 1,000 miles to the Portland area.   But my plan was to visit some family and friends along the way, perhaps taking me as far north as Seattle, before ending up at my final destination of my parents’ new house in McMinnville, Oregon, just south of Portland.

That first afternoon I drove about 5 hours, stopping in Tracy, California for the night.  I enjoyed a $66 per night hotel, complete with a carpet that didn’t look like it had been vacuumed, a bed that looked like it was 100 years old, and colorful neighbors who liked to yell at each other. 

The next day I drove for 9 hours, arriving my Uncle’s house in the small coastal town of Florence, Oregon, in time for dinner.   I would stay here, with Bruce and Mai, for a couple of nights before continuing on my journey north.  

Sold but not forgotten.

Volunteering in Wine Country

One of the most challenging parts of my new lifestyle is returning to the San Francisco Bay Area to change gear, check mail, catch up with friends, and plan my next adventure. 

These activities aren’t the actual challenge, though.  The real challenge is affording daily life in the Bay Area! 

Without a house to sleep in or a kitchen to cook in, I can very easily blow my budget on $5 lattes, $50 dinners, and $150 hotel rooms.  

Fortunately, my friends have been generous with their homes, offering me a few nights’ stay for free.  I have also leveraged boat charters – sailing during the daytime, and then sleeping on the boat at night.  OCSC has a great facility with free parking, showers, and a WIFI- and coffee-equipped clubroom.

I have also brought my volunteering efforts back home to the Bay.  Through Help Exchange, I found a wonderful couple in Sonoma Valley who needed help with their 10-acre property.  Even though I am just a local Bay Area resident and not a foreign traveller, this family was nice enough to invite me into their home for 10 days.  And their property was fantastic!  The main house sat near the top of the property and had a wrap-around porch that overlooked the barn, riding arena, four horse pastures, olive tree orchard, and several vegetable and wild flower gardens.

I worked on their property for 4-5 hours a day in exchange for a private room, three meals a day, and two cool dogs to keep me company!

I had three major projects:

First, I built wooden fences around four sapling mulberry trees in the horse pastures to protect the young trees from the horses.  This project involved digging holes for the posts, setting the posts in concrete, staining the side rail boards, and finally screwing the side rails in place.   When completed, the four enclosures looked great, and matched the main fences around the four pastures.   (Each horse would have its own pasture and a mulberry tree to provide some shade during those hot Sonoma days.)

Second, I helped finish two berms and surrounding rock retaining wall.  This project involved a lot of heavy lifting – whether I was moving dirt around to form the berm, or moving big rocks around to build the retaining wall.  I also sifted through the dirt to remove medium-sized rocks, which I then transported via wheelbarrow to a drainage ditch that we were lining with rocks to prevent erosion. 

Third, I did some basic gardening around various parts of the 10 acres.  I used the gas-powered weed whacker to cut wild grass.  I used a narrow shovel to dig up tough weeds and unwanted plants.  And I mulched around the various fruit and olive trees, making sure each tree had a nice bowl-like skirt of mulch to hold water.

The arrangement was fantastic!

They treated me like one of the family.  We enjoyed some great sunset dinners on the front porch and watched some exciting Euro Cup soccer games.   We enjoyed some memorable events too – the shocking Brexit vote result and the arrival of the classic Triumph TR3 they had just purchased!

A typical day would go like this:  I woke up at 7am for breakfast of granola, yogurt, blueberries, and coffee.    I worked all morning to avoid the Sonoma heat, and hung up my gloves and boots by 1pm.  I showered, and helped myself to lunch, which was usually leftovers from whatever fantastic dinner we had the previous night.  Then I would venture out to explore the community of Glen Ellen.  That usually meant visiting one or two local wineries, or hanging out at the Jack London Saloon for free popcorn and WIFI.  I would rejoin the family around 7pm for a home-cooked meal on the front porch.

One day, I spent the afternoon at the Jack London State Park.   What an amazing place to spend the day!  The museum (contents and structure) are fascinating.  There are short hikes to Jack London’s grave and to his dream “Wolf House” which unfortunately mostly burned down just before he was to move in.  In the museum, I was struck by two quotes from Jack London:  

1)  "The proper function of man is to live, not to exist.  I shall not waste my days in trying to prolong them.  I shall use my time. "

2)  "Then the lure of adventure began to grip us.  Why not start at once?  We'd never be any younger, any of us."

These quotes remind me of why I have chosen to pursue my new lifestyle - chasing my dreams now, rather than saying "maybe someday..."

My time in Sonoma sped by.  The work was hard, physical, and hot.  I admit I was a bit sore each morning.  I would rather be sore from working outdoors surrounded by horses, dogs, and gardens than sore from sitting in a cubicle for 12 hours a day.

I took a break around the Fourth of July weekend to do 5 days of sailing on the San Francisco Bay.  I went out with club members and/or friends from July 1 to July 5, sailing in 25 knots of wind each day!  Boats varied from the J24 (performance boat) to the Beneteau 37 (my favorite club boat) to the Hanse 385 (the brand new club boat).  Thanks to each set of crew for bringing tasty snacks and a positive (and brave) attitude! 

I returned to Glen Ellen ranch on Tuesday evening, July 5, to work a couple more days.  True to form, the happy couple was sitting in the living room and greeted me with a glass of wine.  

Fence posts in.  Testing measurements of first horizontal board.

Box complete.  Now time to stain.

Stained.  Done.  Ready for the horses!

One of the berms, with rock retaining wall.

The other berm, with horses in the background.  :-)

Clearing rocks from the berm (to get it ready for planting), and putting the rocks in the drainage ditch to prevent erosion.

Whacking some weeds.  Why not!  This was fun!

The Triumph TR3 arrives via delivery truck.  Owners driving up the driveway for the first time!

Moments later, owners decide to put the top down and test out the TR3 on the curvy Sonoma roads.  Have fun R & L!

Taking a break from the heat in Sonoma Valley to enjoy 5 days of sailing on the San Francisco Bay, including a wonderful Fourth of July sail with friends, champagne, and tons of food.  Wind was a consistent 25 knots during those 5 days - so that added to the fun as well. :-)

Enjoying More Reunions

Back in the Bay Area this week, I have been enjoying more reunions – but nothing formal like my college reunion.  These have just been intimate gatherings with close friends.

Friday, I was invited to a deliciously fun dinner party at a friend’s house in San Francisco.  Dinner was amazing, my glass was never empty, and the laughs never stopped.

Sunday, another friend organized a group outing to Angel Island for a hike and picnic, with her husband, kids, and some of our other close friends. We celebrated Father’s Day, as well as birthdays and an anniversary.  I resisted the urge to actually sail to the island, opting instead to take the ferry over like 'normal people.'  

And just this past Wednesday, I gathered with some of my best friends at our monthly "guys' happy hour."  This is a tradition that I started over 2 years ago when I began working in downtown San Francisco.  We meet one Wednesday a month, in the Financial District since that seems to be most convenient, especially for those of us commuting by train.  This is a night where the guys can take a break from work and family life, and join me for drinks, dinner, and the same old stories we've told each other a million times. It's always a fun night, and we all appreciate the partners who are at home holding down the fort and managing the kids.

These gatherings – whether we celebrated something formally or not – were a celebration for me.  At least in my head.  I was celebrating just being reunited with such great friends, after so many months of travel.  

I’ve said several times that living on the go, country to country, isn’t always as glamorous as it sounds.  One of the many challenges is fighting off the feeling of loneliness.  Sure, I meet people on the road and make new friends, but it's different.  They are new friends, and we are just getting to know each other.  More often than not, they are from a different country, so happy hours and picnics are a little tough.

On Friday, Sunday, and Wednesday, I was with friends whom I have already known for a decade or more.  We have had amazing experiences together - weddings, births, birthdays, travel, etc.  We live (or have lived) in the same neighborhoods.  

They are special people, and I miss them when I’m on the road. 

Great friends, great day, on Angel Island, San Francisco.

Nostalgic Road Trip to Los Angeles

This past weekend I drove down to Los Angeles from San Francisco.  It’s about a five and a half hour drive the way I did it – straight down the Interstate 5.  Taking the Pacific Coast Highway is much more scenic, but just about doubles the driving time.

The purpose of my visit to Los Angeles was two-fold. 

First, I helped my parents pack up our house in Glendale.  They are selling the fabulous Spanish-style house – which is the house I grew up in – and moving to Oregon.  We have vacationed every year in Oregon as a family, my younger brother lives in Oregon with his wife and kids, and my parents still own a beach house on the Oregon Coast.  So it’s not unfamiliar territory at all.  It’s a great move, but certainly tough to leave such a beautiful house with so many memories.  The good thing is, the memories stay with us.  My parents have done a good job 'purging' so that not everything in the house is going with them to Oregon.  It was fun to go through so many bits of nostalgia, including old photos, correspondence and news clippings, and personal effects.  Perhaps the biggest highlight was that in the evenings, my parents and I sat around and watched "Shark Tank" episodes.  This is way better than in the past when they would make me watch "The Bachelor" episodes.  Way to go, Mom and Dad!

Second, I attended my college reunion at Occidental College.  I was slightly disappointed at the attendance (we only had about 10% of our class show up), but the reunion weekend included reunions for classes from every 5th year, so I had a chance to mingle with alums from other classes as well as my own.  One of my best friends, who couldn’t make the reunion and whom I had lost contact with for nearly 10 years, was nice enough to fight the LA traffic to meet me separately for dinner the following week.  You know who you are… Thanks!

In all, I was in Los Angeles for about 6 days.  It still felt like home in so many ways. – especially my childhood house, the neighborhood streets, and the Occidental College campus (which is only 6 miles from my house).  But at the same time, the City of Glendale has changed so much (it’s now a thriving metropolis with traffic!), and I was anxious to get back to the City by the Bay.

On the drive back north, I couldn’t help but think about my own house in San Carlos, and how nice it would be to pull into the garage and flop down on my couch with a glass of wine.

Ooops.  House is rented still.  The adventure must go on… What's next?  Stay tuned!

My childhood home.  Spanish-style with lots of stained glass, tile, wrought iron, and arches.  This is taken from the stairway landing (see comment on last picture about Christmas morning - this was the view we'd have as we came down the stairs with Mom, Dad, Christmas tree, and lots of presents below...)

This was the stained glass window in our wood-paneled den, or TV room.  The room also had a red light in the left-hand corner and a green light in the right-hand corner.  I never really made sense of this until now -- after 4 years of sailing -- these are nautical "running lights."  Red is left, port side.  Green is right, starboard side.  All these years later, I see these hints about sailing that were right in front of me for 18 years living in this house!

Another feature related to sailing:  Spanish galleons engraved on the lights in our living room.  Each of the four fixtures had a different engraving of a ship.  So cool, I never really noticed. (Or maybe I did notice but it just didn't hit home as much as it does now.)

Our tile stairs.  We used to come down these in our pajamas on Christmas morning.  We would pause on the landing, shown here, and peer over the wrought iron railing looking down into the living room.  My parents would be in the living room below and film us.  Those old home movies are somewhere now converted to DVD...I hope.

NZFJ Passage Notes: "The After"

It's taken me a while to write and post this.  I may update / edit this a bit, but for now, here are some takeaway thoughts on the passage.  

Smelling Land.  Sailors say that after you’ve been at sea for a while, you become accustomed to the fresh marine air.  As you then approach land, you can actually smell “land” – and “people.”  I found this hard to believe, until I actually experienced it.  And it’s true.  It’s hard to describe the smell – it’s not garbage, or cheeseburgers, or gasoline, or perfume.  It’s just some combination of non-natural odor that is different from the fresh, salty air over the open ocean.   

Beyond the smell, the sight of land after a week or more at sea brings on a couple of conflicting emotions.  The first is “relief” – we made it, we are safe, etc.  However, there is also the feeling of “shoot, it’s over already” – let’s keep on going, we have a routine, it’s great. 

Living by the Sunrise and Sunset.  The passage was sort of like camping, I guess – an activity where you are much more in tune with nature and the changes between daytime and nighttime.  We were dependent on nature in so many ways during this passage.  Here is how I experienced the evenings and mornings.

 As we sailed off into the sunset, and land disappeared behind us, I thought, “We’re really on our own now.  This is the real deal.”  With each subsequent sunset, there was a peaceful feeling as the sky was so beautifully colored and purely visible (no telephone poles, buildings, or even trees to block the view).  Again, there was a sense of solitude from the outside world.  As the darkness came, so did a cautious but unsettling feeling of what the night would bring.

 Fortunately, we sailed mostly during a waxing moon (moon approaching full), so we enjoyed several hours of bright moonlight each night.  As the moon “set”, the sky became dark and we enjoyed brilliant stars – so much more visible away from city lights – but that unsettling feeling still came around.  Ok, now it’s getting really dark.  We are sailing by instruments only, not able to see (and avoid) the big swells or see any landmarks.

 Such sailing at night can be stressful and tiring – and can be scary depending on the conditions.  We each only took a maximum of 2 hours at the helm, as driving required serious concentration to stay on course. 

As that first light begins to brighten the horizon in the early morning, there was often a great sigh of relief (that we made it through the night), excitement (that we have a whole day of sailing ahead of us), and exhaustion (ok, it’s light, let’s get some sleep). 

Owning a Boat and Making a Passage.  Both owning a boat and making a passage require a lot of patience.  Things don’t always go as you expect.  You have to be ready with a Plan B or even Plan C.  As I mentioned in a previous post, I have been spoiled to some degree with the great service department at the Olympic Circle Sailing Club, which keeps the boats in top shape, ready for a day sail.  I just have to show up. 

Over the last couple of months, I had great visibility into what it’s REALLY like to own a boat.  Checking all the systems, making repairs or upgrades, learning the nuances of driving/sailing, keeping everything clean and organized, dealing with the specialists who come help, etc. 

Skipper Tom had only recently purchased the boat, so another level of my learning was just general boat ownership/set-up.  What’s it like to take ownership of a boat?  What are the set-up costs and activities?  What problems might occur? 

To help with boat jobs, we had to rely on a number of outside specialists (for rigging, refrigeration, water-maker, etc.)  It was very important to build relationships with these people.  You want them to care about what they are doing -- they are working on a piece of equipment that may or may not save your life. 

 I also had great insight into the passage planning aspect.  I’ve been trained as a Coastal Skipper, but up until now my experience has been pretty limited to only a weekend sail.  This was 8 days, open ocean, no safety nets.  So to watch, and in fact help, the skipper prepare for the passage to Fiji was very educational. There is a seemingly endless number of factors to consider.  Crew, sails, provisions, safety equipment, boat performance, course, and weather.  The one that struck me as most significant (at least in this area of the world) was weather data.  We had multiple sources for intel on what was going on with weather fronts. 

Passing the Test.  In the end, this was a test for me.  Can I handle the open ocean?  Will I get seasick?  Will I have fun?  Will I get claustrophobic on the boat for so long?  Will I get along with people? 

I’m happy to report that I passed my own self-administered test.  I had a great time, performed my duties, stayed healthy, and remained positive.  I’m ready to go again!

NZFJ Passage Notes: "The During"

Twelve hundred miles.  Eight days.  Three people.  One boat.  

·      How did we manage with just three of us? 

·      What was it like to be in the middle of the ocean?

·      Were there any problems? 

Here are some tidbits about life on board the sailing vessel Avalon as she sliced through the wind and waves at an average speed of over 6 knots.

Departing from Marsden Cove Marina (Day 1).  Originally, we had a team of four to sail the boat.  Skipper Tom, First Mate Rick, and Crew Dan and Brad.  However, as we waited in Marsden Cove Marina analyzing the weather and looking for a safe window, Brad ran out of time.  He had to fly home, leaving just the three of us to make the long passage.  It was a big bummer, but we had to get over it and continue the task at hand:  getting to Fiji.  After waiting an extra day for a weather front to pass, we departed on Thursday, May 12.   I was thrilled to be underway.

We cranked Led Zepplin as we departed the slip perfectly.  Tom put her in forward and we cruised down the narrow channel into the Hatea River.   But our excitement was immediately put on hold.  A huge cargo ship was just departing from the nearby port, with tugboats pulling it away from the dock, blocking our path.  We made radio contact with one of the tugs to let them know our intentions.  We then spun a few slow circles, watching and waiting, and then finally followed the cargo ship down the river and out into the ocean.

We then turned to port (left) and headed north on our way to Fiji!

Saying Goodbye to Land (Day 2).  During the first couple of days, we had relatively light wind, calm seas, and clear skies.  I watched the final bits of land disappear beyond the horizon.  We were on our own now, that’s for sure.  We motor-sailed a lot of the time (main sail up, but assisted with engine on).  This was great because it gave us – especially me, the newbie to ocean passage-making – a chance to get acclimated to life on board the boat. 

We had 1,200 miles to travel but we only had fuel for about 700 miles of motoring.  (And we had to use some of our fuel to run the auxiliary motor for battery charging, water-making, and refrigerating).  We knew we HAD to do some sailing.  So even in the light wind, we tried to sail.  

On Saturday, we hoisted the “cruising chute” which is like a small spinnaker (the colorful, kite-like headsail you see on boats going downwind).  This was a good sail to use in the light wind we were getting. 

We tried not to “wish for more wind” because superstition warns to be careful what you wish for.  Too much wind could be worse than not enough wind.  We had plenty of food, and could make fresh water at the rate of 40 gallons an hour – so we were in no rush.  We were happy to wait for the wind to come.

Sailing All Day and All Night.  We sailed every day, all day and all night.  With just 3 people, we carefully structured each day and night into watches.  The standard structure at night was going to be 2 hours on, 4 hours off, 2 hours on, 4 hours off.   During the daytime, the standard would be 3 hours on, 6 hours off, 3 hours on.  Of course this would all depend on conditions.  In rough conditions, we would adjust length of watches, or even double up (e.g., one person is on watch, but another person is in the cockpit just watching the watch person to make sure he stays awake!)  Then we catch up on sleep when the weather improves. 

Unfortunately, when you’re not on watch, you can’t just go sleep. There are plenty of other jobs to be done while underway:  trimming sails, checking our position and course, recording entries in the ship’s log, tidying up lines and cabin space, and making tea and meals, cleaning the galley and head, etc.

In the end, we worked well as a three-person team, adjusting as I mentioned from the intended four-person team.  We all got a bit less sleep, but we ate more food, than planned. :-)

Eating and Drinking.   Three guys on a boat for 8 days?  Especially me.  I am not known for my cooking skills.  You may wonder what we ate and how we cooked.   Well, I’ve covered the “what” part of the question in the “Shopping for Food” section.  But I’ll cover a bit of the “how” here.

Like many things with sailing, our diet varied with the weather.  In unfavorable conditions, we made sure we had easy-to-prep items that we could just heat up in the oven and/or that required no slicing and dicing: frozen pizzas, minced meat pies, and the classic peanut butter and jelly sandwich.  On calmer days, we got more creative:  pasta pesto, toasted ham and cheese sandwiches, and roasted chicken.

In addition to meals, there was a near constant flow of hot tea and coffee coming from our kettle – no matter what the weather. 

Important safety note:  As skipper Tom reminded us constantly, in the middle of the ocean, help is a long way away.  Even a cut finger, stubbed toe, or bump on the head could turn into something serious.  Infection, break, or concussion.  BE CAREFUL.  So for cooking, we tried to minimize slicing and dicing.  We tried not to boil large pots of water that could spill and scald.  And we were always careful with the stovetop open flame.

Getting Drenched, Dried, and Clean (Day 3 & 4).  After three days of decent weather, on Sunday we hit the nasty stuff.  We ran into a convergence zone of dueling air pressure systems which presented us with 12 hours of constant rain, wind, and seas.  We donned our foul-weather gear and took turns at the helm, with the other two people hunched behind our dodger (windshield and roof) for safety and warmth.  None of us had seen so much rain – it was just relentless.    

We sailed on through the afternoon and evening.  At some point during the dark night, the rain finally stopped and the sky cleared. 

The following day was completely clear – blue skies, sunny, warm, light wind again.  We hung our wet gear along the lifelines (cable railings along the boat) to dry out.  We took turns showering with the fresh water hose at the stern of the boat.   Ah, a shower never felt better.

Taking Care of the Boat. Out in the middle of the ocean, it was just us, the boat, and Mother Nature.  There is no Vessel Assist or Coast Guard.  There are no other boats around (usually).   During our passage, we worked hard to keep the boat clean, organized, and in proper working condition.  We investigated any unusual noise, any part missing or out of place.  We tried to keep the stress on the boat (bashing through waves) to a minimum – not just for crew comfort, but for the boat’s comfort.  We take care of her, and she’ll take care of us.  That was our motto.  We also took care of each other.  As I’ve said, we were depending on each other’s skills, opinions, fitness, and health.  We make sure each other is hydrated, well-rested, not seasick, etc.  Not just to make it to Fiji, but to survive. 

Sailing Wing-on-Wing in the Moonlight (Day 5 & 6).  After the Sunday rain and Monday sunshine, we encountered another couple of days of light wind, with a change in wind direction.  We were approaching the southeast trade winds, which would carry us up to Fiji.  It was more of a downwind course at this point, versus up or across the wind like the previous few days.   This downwind heading gave us the opportunity to try a new sail configuration:  wing-on-wing.  We used the pole to position the jib on the opposite side of the boat as the boom and mainsail.  With both sails eased out to the max, we created a lot of sail area to catch the wind and move us along at 6 knots.  The sails on either side of the hull make it look like the boat has wings, hence the name wing-on-wing.

We sailed this way all afternoon, with the boat gently rocking along with each swell.    We continued on into the evening, with the light of the full moon shining down on the white sails.  It was quite peaceful and graceful.

Running from Storms (Day 7).  By Thursday, the wind and seas were picking up.  We were a couple hundred miles away from Fiji.  (We sail 100-200 miles a day depending on conditions).  Reports of “cyclonic conditions” in Fiji for the weekend kept us on high alert – we had to get to Fiji before those conditions developed.   We were already seeing 6-10 foot swells, and numerous squalls developing around us.

We stayed our course and sailed as fast as we could.  As a squall approached, we could feel the gusty winds pick up (from 20 mph to suddenly 30 mph), and we beared away (headed downwind) to ease the forces on the boat.  We took turns driving, as usual, but today was more intense.  It really took the driver’s full attention to stay on course in the high wind and seas, but also to be responsive enough to react as the squalls passed over.

By 3am or 4am, we were through the worst of it.  As the skies cleared, land ho!  Over the dark horizon, we could see the outline of the even darker mountains of Fiji.  We hove-to for a few hours to get some sleep.  (Heaving-to means positioning the sails and rudder such that the forces counteract each other and the boat basically stays in one place, other than any effect of ocean current.)  Rick and Tom had done several hours of the tough driving at night through the squalls, so I stayed on watch from 3am to 6am, letting them get some much needed sleep.

BULA, Fiji! (Day 8)  On Friday, at 6am, we re-engaged the sails for forward momentum, and headed to Vuda Marina.  We carefully navigated through the outer reefs and by 10am, we had tied up to the mooring ball outside the marina. We radioed for Customs and Immigration to come out to the boat for boarding, inspection, and check-in.  We made it! 

As you might imagine, that night we had long showers, a big dinner, and then one hell of a celebration at the Vuda Marina Bar and nearby Nadi Town. 

But those details, of course, are not for this blog.  :-)

NZFJ Passage Notes: "The Before"

Sailing across an ocean is serious business.  At some point, we will be hundreds of miles away from anyone or anything.  If the boat breaks or someone gets hurt, help could be hours if not days away.  We would be depending on each other and the sailboat for survival.  Literally. 

Needless to say, that meant preparation and planning was critical; and I commend our Skipper Tom for being so diligent and insistent about this.  “Take care of the boat, and she’ll take care of us,” he would say repeatedly.  “And take care of each other.”  (More on this later.)

As you’ve read in my earlier posts, I spent the month of April helping Tom with this first “preparing and planning” stage.  In some cases, admittedly, I was just kind of watching and learning – in other cases I was actively involved.   I will touch on a few aspects of the preparation and planning:  preparing the boat, selecting the crew, shopping for food, planning the course, and forecasting the weather.   These are in no particular order, nor am I saying they are the only or the most important things.  They are just items that might be fun to talk/read about.

Preparing the Boat.  Since Skipper Tom had recently purchased the boat (used) about 6 months ago, there was a lot of routine maintenance and minor repairs/upgrades that had to be done as part of the preparation.  We had the hull painted, the rudder inspected, the transmission cable replaced, the water-maker membranes replaced, fuel lines flushed, WIFI installed, hatch-covers and seat-covers made, back-up halyard added, and so much more.  But this was all sort of normal, routine stuff.  Ok maybe WIFI was an upgrade. J  In the end, as you’ll read, the boat performed beautifully, hitting a top speed of 11 knots.  Smooth and stable. 

For me, the boat preparation was an eye-opening experience.  Up until now, my sailing experience has been mostly day or night charters on the San Francisco Bay through the Olympic Circle Sailing Club.   The sailing aspect of these short trips can be challenging, with high wind, strong currents, and lots of traffic.  And the planning is up to me – where should we dock for lunch, dinner, or drinks?  But the boat preparation on these day trips is virtually non-existent – because it’s all taken care of beautifully by the Club’s service department.  I just show up, do some quick paperwork and boat inventory, and then set sail! 

So to spend over a month involved in fixing things, improving things, and cleaning things gave me tremendous insight into what boat ownership and passage making requires -- great patience and big pocket book, among other things.  You don’t just prance down to the dock, step onto your boat, and shove off.  Similar to the business world, you’re best off having a network of reliable experts whom you trust and who can help with the project du jour.   

Selecting the Crew.   As I mentioned, we would be all alone in the middle of an ocean, depending on each other for survival.  We needed to trust, respect, and like each other – and have confidence in each other’s abilities and judgments.  Skipper Tom picked out an amazing crew of 3 skilled sailors with easy-going, fun personalities.   Unfortunately, one of the crew had to fly home for previous commitments before we departed on the passage.  So just Skipper Tom, First Mate Rick, and I made the passage.  Brad, we missed you.

Shopping for Food.   Provisioning, or planning meals and shopping for food, was similar to what you would do for a camping trip.  I’ve included a bit of this fun process in one of my videos.   You might think that a boat with four guys was stocked with beer, frozen pizza, and potato chips.   Not at all!  The passage would be physical, tiring, and cold; we needed to stay healthy and fit.  We stocked our fridge and cupboards with fruits and vegetables, yogurt, tea, pasta, eggs, oatmeal, peanut butter, cold cuts, and bread.  In the freezer we had a couple half-chickens, and yes, I confess, a couple of frozen pizzas.  And ice cream.  J

Planning the Course.  Skipper Tom and First Mate Rick handled most of the course planning.  Tom has done this route several times before.  But I hovered over the charts also to see where we would be going and I programmed our waypoints into my handheld GPS.  As you might imagine, course planning and navigation are hugely important on a passage of 1,200 across an ocean. Steering a few degrees off course for a few hours, can lead to serious problems if you are short on food, water, fuel, good weather, or crew energy.  Or, even worse, you could find yourself on top of a reef or in a shipping lane. If nothing else, it just adds time to your overall trip. 

Steering on a particular course can be difficult as the waves knock the boat around and as the wind shifts direction.

The objective of a delivery passage is to get the boat from Point A to Point B as fast as possible – and as safely as possible.  It may seem counter-intuitive, but speed is actually a safety factor – the faster you go, the safer you are.  (See my next point about Weather.)  

Forecasting the Weather.  It goes without saying that weather is an enormous factor for a safe passage.  Wind, rain, low clouds, and sea state can all jeopardize stability, visibility, course, and speed.  Yet forecasts are generally only reliable up to 3-5 days.  Beyond that, the confidence and accuracy is reduced dramatically.  This is why boat speed is so important.  The faster you go, the more time you are sailing in the weather window that you have predicted fairly confidently.  If your passage is going to take 10 days or more, then you’ll be doing weather forecasting (and reacting) en route. 

The level of weather analysis that went into the preparation and planning was truly fascinating, and exceeded my expectations in terms of sophistication.   Skipper Tom had done this passage several times before, so he was familiar with the general weather patterns.  As early as two weeks before our proposed departure date, Tom was pouring over local weather data – forecasts from multiple sources, raw data from an online service, anecdotal reports from fellow sailors in the area, and a special advisory report from a local meteorologist.   Due to El Nino, the weather patterns this year were quite different from the last several years so forecasts had a much lower confidence level. 

Check out www.windyty.com or www.predictwind.com for examples of what we were looking at, although those are just visualizations of the raw data that we also were receiving.  

Again, I commend Skipper Tom for interpreting the weather data and choosing the safest weather window possible.  Our passage was relatively mild vs. what it could have been.  At least that’s what Tom keeps telling us.  J

Picking Our Departure Song.  We spent a fun afternoon sitting at the dock going through Tom and Rick’s music collection to pick out our “departure song.”  This is the song we would blast from the stereo as we departed from the dock, embarking on our journey.  Oddly, I don’t remember the actual song title.  But I know it was Led Zepplin.  Might have been “Dazed and Confused”… ironically.  That was probably better off being our arrival song…

That's about it for my summary of "The Before" activities.  I'm leaving out all of the time I spent off the boat, exploring the towns of Auckland and Whangarei.  Check out my other (earlier) updates about some of those adventures.  I will say both cities have great Irish Pubs and pool tables...

For now, it's on to the actual passage:  "The During".  Keep reading!

NZFJ Passage Notes: "Intro"

Our 1,200-mile journey from New Zealand to Fiji was an intense sailing adventure.  I’m grateful to Skipper Tom for inviting me along.

Sailing across an ocean is not an everyday experience.  You can’t just book the trip on Travelocity.com.  You can’t just call up a friend and say “Hey, let’s do this.” 

So I’m excited to share some details about my experience to give you a flavor of what the journey was like. 

·      What went into the preparation and planning?

·      How did the 3 of us manage sailing for 24 hours per day for 8 days straight?

·      Did we run into any storms, big seas, or other challenges?

·      What did we eat?

·      What were the high/low points?

·      What did I learn?

·      Would I do it again?

As you might have sensed from my silence these past couple of weeks, I’ve been having a hard time writing my update because there are so many layers to the experience – physical, intellectual, and emotional.  There is so much to write about that it feels overwhelming, and I keep procrastinating.  

But I need to do it.  And then move on.

So rather than try to write one long eloquent update, I’m going to compartmentalize my thoughts and post a few serial updates.  We’ll call it “The Before,” “The During,” and “The After.”

Update from Fiji

After 8 days at sea, covering 1,200 miles of open ocean in a 50-foot sailboat with two friends, we docked at Vuda Marina, Fiji (and later Port Denerau, Fiji).

The trip was amazing.  I will write a separate account of it over the next couple of weeks.

Since the passage, we have been catching up on sleep, eating normal meals, and re-hydrating…as well as a little celebrating, which leads to needing more sleep and hydration.  We have also spent the days packing up our sailing gear, cleaning up the boat, and returning it to normal “cruising mode” (vs. “passage-making mode”).

As of now, the skipper and first mate have returned home to the United States.  I am taking a few more days to explore the nearby Yasawa Islands on a local ferry service.  I bought a five-day unlimited pass to go to/from islands as I please.

Even worse than “mainland Fiji”, the internet on these islands is spotty, slow, and unreliably available, so I won’t be doing much posting online.  

I’ll be using the offline time to work on a video account of our passage, as well as a written summary of the experience.

That’s the update for now. 

Thanks again to Avalon skipper and crew for a safe, memorable passage!

Sail Away, Sail Away, Sail Away...

Tomorrow morning we depart from Marsden, New Zealand, headed north to Fiji.  The sail will be about 1,200 and, with the current wind and sea conditions, we expect the voyage to be about 10 days.  

We are provisioned with plenty of food and water (plus we have a water maker on board), and enough fuel for about 600-700 miles of motoring... so we'll need to find wind to make the 1,200 miles.

I'm excited for this, my first ocean passage.  I will take lots of photos and videos, and will keep a journal as well.  No doubt this will be an intense test of my sea legs (and sea stomach).  

My next update will be in a couple of weeks, hopefully from a warm, sunny (and dry) beach in Fiji!

The picture below is a gross exaggeration of our route to Fiji, but highlights our tactics and sailing angles.  We will sail E / NE at first to get away from New Zealand (and surrounding tough conditions) as quickly as possible.  (We expect the wind will be coming out of the N / NW.)  Then we'll turn and head N / NW, taking advantage of the SE trade winds.  We expect some light conditions mid-passage, so we'll probably be doing some motoring as well. 

View fullsize

Rough illustration of our intended route.  By no means is it even close to exact from a navigation standpoint.

From left to right:  Dan (crew), Rick (first mate), Tom (skipper), Brad (crew).

Final Preparations and Provisions

We spent this past week in Auckland, docked at Pier 21 in the Westhaven Marina, doing boat jobs and preparing for our sail to Fiji.

Boat jobs?  Yes.  Lots of them. 

Back home in San Francisco, I belong to the Olympic Circle Sailing Club, which has a fleet of over 50 boats that are always ready to sail thanks to the dedicated management and fleet service teams.   I just show up, get the keys, complete a quick inventory checklist, and go.

This trip to New Zealand has given me great insight into boat ownership – from setting up a newly purchased boat, to repairing and maintaining the boat, to preparing for an ocean passage.  I’ll write more on this topic later.  For now, I’ll just highlight a few of the boat jobs we did this week.  And these are *very* minor jobs, versus what we could have been doing...

One afternoon we spent cleaning the bilges.  A bilge is a compartment in the lowest part of the boat, below the waterline, that collects seawater and/or rainwater as it drains from other parts of the boat.  We used a hand pump and bucket, and lots of sponges and paper towels.  We were also inspecting the compartments to make sure there were not clogs or gunk that might cause a problem when underway.

Another afternoon we spent on the deck inspecting the storm jib and trisail.  These are small sturdy sails that are used in severe weather conditions.  While we don’t expect to need them on this passage, we wanted to make sure we knew how to use them – just in case.   We practiced hoisting the trisail and rigging the sheets.  

We also rigged a “preventer” for use when sailing downwind.  Attached to the end of the boom and running up to the bow and back to the cockpit, the preventer helps keep the mainsail and boom from banging around (and even more importantly prevents us from doing an accidental jibe).

There were so many other little jobs:  hoisting Rick halfway up our 60-foot mast so that he could change a light bulb, taping up vents with duct tape to prevent entry of water, organizing and securing the items in our forward compartment, installing protective seat covers, etc.

Over the last few weeks, we've had some experts come aboard to do repairs, inspection, and maintenance.   (Think mechanic, electrician, and plumber.) This week, the most significant task was getting our engine-driven water maker working.  Yes, that’s right, SV Avalon can now convert seawater into fresh drinking water at the rate of 40 gallons per hour!  Amazing!

The best part of the week was taking Avalon out for a couple of shakedown sails.  We wanted to test the different repairs, upgrades, and maintenance activities that have gone on these past few weeks.  We also just wanted to practice the operation of the sails and systems.  Even when everything is working, sailing a boat this size is a coordinated, orchestrated effort only successful with teamwork and communication.

Both shakedown sails turned out to be pretty non-eventful – which is what you want in a shakedown sail.  The engines worked, the charging worked, the sails worked.

At the end of the week – well, today actually – we headed to the grocery store to buy provisions for the boat.   We must have set a record for provisioning.  In just under 2 hours, we filled 3 giant shopping carts, paid the cashier, took a van taxi to the boat, unloaded the bags, and stowed everything on board.  

Contrary to what you might think, it is very easy to eat well (and healthy) on a boat.  I know first hand that Skipper Tom makes some great meals when cruising.  However, for this particular passage, we dumbed down the provisions quite a bit.  It’s going to be four guys, in potentially tough conditions, so we kept provisions simple – breads and spreads, soups and oatmeal, frozen pizza and vegetables, pastas and sauces, cookies and crackers. 

Now, some of us are optimistic that we will catch some fresh fish during our passage.  Skipper Tom (proud of his sleek boat) says we’ll be moving too fast for the fish.  I think there is a gentleman’s bet in the works as to whether we’ll be eating sushi one evening.

The other activity that has been going on all week is meteorological in nature:  watching and analyzing the weather (in particular the movements of high and low air pressure systems, the resulting wind strength and direction, and, in turn, resulting sea state).  I am still learning this critical bit of sailing know-how that is frequently forgotten.  But Skipper Tom has been studying the weather daily, and collecting all kinds of input from different sources – friends, weather services, locals.  We are looking for a weather window that has decent wind, in a favorable direction, but without a rough sea state. 

This week has not been all work.  After 10 days in Whangarei, it was nice to return to the ‘big’ city.  We have enjoyed a few nights out at our favorite spots – Swashbuckler's for ice cold cider, the Asian Food Market for cheap eats, Ponsonby Street for trendy cafes and bars, and The Fiddler Irish Pub for live music and a few games of pool.

That said, with the haul-out, boat jobs, shakedown sails, and provisioning done, we are ready to go!  We will leave tomorrow morning and sail north up to Marsden, stopping at Kawau Island for an overnight anchor. 

Once in Marsden, we will continue to watch the weather, waiting for a window to open -- then we will check out of New Zealand, and sail north to Fiji!  

Setting Her Free

After nearly 10 days on the hard in Whangarei, SV Avalon returned to the water on the morning of Thursday, April 21. 

It was 8:30am as Avalon rolled majestically yet agonizingly slowly through the boatyard, gently cradled in the thick canvas arms of the giant Marine Travelift crane.  Her freshly painted black bottom and polished white sides accentuated her graceful curves and sweet lines. 

Like a caged beast at the zoo, Avalon was intriguing up close and personal, out of her natural habitat; but she belonged back in the wild, running with the frothy waves of the South Pacific and breathing the fresh salty air with her three triangular lungs.

There was a universal sigh of relief as we lowered her safely into the water.  We started the engine, checked key systems, and then slowly motored away from the haul-out dock as the Marine Travelift simultaneously released Avalon from its grip.  

The beautiful beast was free!

We motored up the Hatea River, with plans to spend two nights at the Whangarei Marina in "Town Basin," a nice re-developed section of the city of Whangarei, before heading back down to Auckland.

The short cruise to the Whangarei Marina was pleasant.  It was a beautiful sunny morning.  As I have mentioned before, the city has done a nice job creating the “Hatea Loop” which is a long running path and park around both sides of the river just on the edge of town.  We have walked along the path quite a few times, and it was great to now see it from a different perspective as we slowly motored by, waving to joggers and dog-walkers.

We passed under the breathtaking drawbridge called “Te Matau a Pohe,” or “the fishhook of Pohe.”  As you might guess by the name, the drawbridge has two large arms that resemble fishhooks used by the local people, serving as a reminder of the cultural and historical connection between the river, coast, land, and native people.

We called the bridge operator and requested permission to pass under the bridge, and then waited patiently for the bridge to pivot up into the sky allowing our 70-foot tall vessel pass underneath. 

Arriving at Town Basin and the marina therein, we docked in front of the marina office, executing a difficult parallel-parking type maneuver to fit in between two giant 50-foot catamarans. 

We stayed here for the next two days, taking care of final inspections (i.e., refrigerator) and repairs (outboard engine for the dinghy). 

It was fun to be in the center of town on such a great boat.  People would walk by and take pictures or ask questions.  “Where are you from?  Where are you going?  What kind of boat is she?”

After doing boat jobs and errands during the daytime, in the evenings we continued our routine of visiting a few favorite establishments in town.  Mean’s Vietnamese Café for fantastic spring rolls and chicken fried rice.  Turkish Delight Café for tasty salad with lamb.  And McMorrissey’s for Guinness, live music, and pool.

On Saturday, after joining up with an additional crew member Rick and his girlfriend, the four of us departed for a 2-day, 90-mile sail down to Auckland.  With childlike giddiness (and with GoPro in hand), I enjoyed going under the drawbridge again.

On day 1 of our passage to Auckland, the wind cooperated nicely originating from the north/northwest.  We enjoyed a nice sail (mostly on a reach) down the coast.  We anchored in Bon Accord Harbor, off the shore of Kawau Island.  We had been running a bit late and did the anchoring in the dark, which was made even more difficult by the crowded harbor.  It was a holiday weekend, so a lot of people had decided to take their boats out and visit this anchorage, apparently.

Sunday morning, we woke up and made our way to Auckland – arriving at Pier 21 in Westhaven Marina at dusk.  We lucked out with our approach through the busy harbor.  It actually wasn’t that busy.  Again, maybe this was due to the fact that it was a holiday weekend and most boats would be returning on Monday, not Sunday.

We tied up at Pier 21 and tidied up Avalon.   We intend to stay here for the week, revisiting some maintenance issues, picking up our final crew member, going on some shakedown/practice day sails, and provisioning for the long passage north. 

At Dockland 5 Services boatyard in Whangarei, and very ready to get back into the water!

Tied up to the pontoon, waiting for the the spectacular "Te Matau a Pohe" drawbridge to open.

Motoring up the Hatea River and under the "Te Matau a Pohe" drawbridge in Whangarei, New Zealand.

Parked front-and-center at the Whangarei Marina within the Town Basin, Whangarei, New Zealand.

Sailing into Auckland Harbor at sunset.  

Docked safely at Pier 21, Westhaven Marina, Auckland, New Zealand.

Waiting in Whangarei

We arrived in Whangarei a week ago for boat maintenance.  Since then, I've helped with a few boat jobs, but I've spent most of my time volunteering for a local family and exploring the surrounding area.

As I mentioned in my previous post, after the boat was hauled out of the water at Dockland 5 Services in Whangarei, my Hosts (Clare and Aaron) picked me up and took me to their home, just a couple of kilometers away.

I stayed with Clare and Aaron for four nights in their guest unit – a fully equipped one-bedroom apartment at the rear of their property.  During the week, I helped them tidy up their garden by weeding, pruning, and raking.  (You can find their rental listing on Airbnb here.)

Upon arriving at their house, I was going to immediately get to work, but Clare and Aaron first welcomed me with a cup of coffee, and then a cold beer!

I still put in two hours of work that first day, and was then rewarded with a tasty home cooked meal of meat, potatoes, and vegetables.  It’s going to be a good week, I thought!

And it was.  I found the gardening to be very therapeutic.  I methodically weeded and pruned and raked, then hauled the clippings and leaves across the road to an empty lot.  The weather generally cooperated.  Even when it rained, it was more of a constant drizzle – nothing that my rain shell, work pants, and boots couldn’t handle.

Each day, I worked about 8:00am to 1:00pm, stopped for lunch, and then had the afternoons and evenings off.  I've included a few "before" and "after" pictures here.  While the work may not seem like much, my contribution enabled Clare and Aaron to focus on a local business they were in the process of acquiring, instead of worrying about overdue yard work.

In my downtime, I explored the small town of Whangarei (locally nicknamed “Whanga-rainy”).   It’s very industrial, with a lot of auto and marine shops and also big box retailers (comparable to Costco or The Home Depot).  

There is a “cruising community” of sailors moored in the Town Basin area, an area which caters to those sailors by providing touristy cafes, restaurants, and art galleries.  There is also more of a locals’ downtown area that is (sort of) bustling during weekday hours; but on the evenings and weekends, it’s really, REALLY quiet. I struggled Sunday evening to find a place open for dinner!

Nearly by process of elimination (because everything else was either closed or empty), I typically had the same routine in the evenings.  Dine at Mean’s Vietnamese Café or Turkish Delight Café and then venture over to the one decent pub, McMorrissey’s, for live music, a few games of pool, and a few Guinness beers.  

We were supposed to be here for just the week, however due to rain delays, we’ve now stayed through the weekend.  As of today, Monday, the boat still isn’t ready, and we may need another couple of days for the anti-fouling paint to be applied and dried.  We are leveraging the time by doing other boat jobs.   Today, for example, we lowered the dinghy to have a possible leak repaired.  Tomorrow we’ll take the dinghy's outboard motor in to be serviced to make sure it's in top working condition.  (I posted a short time-lapse video of our activities today.  You can view it here.  Most exciting part is at the 1:00 mark for the anti-fouling spray.  Unfortunately I missed the first coat application, so this second coat isn't as dramatic a color change.)

Meanwhile, my volunteering gig has ended.  My Hosts had other guests coming into town.  So I’ve resorted to the local Bella Vista Motel.  It’s convenient, but a little out of my intended budget.

I’ve emailed other possible Hosts for volunteering, but have not received any responses.  So I’ll continue to stay in the motel.  (I could stay on the boat, but it’s a little scary while it’s hoisted 7-feet out of the water and precariously balancing on its keel and side support struts.)

Without the volunteering, I find myself passing time strolling around the marina looking at all the boats and taking a few nature walks in the surrounding hills.  My favorite hike was adjacent to the Whangarei Quarry Gardens which included a historic "pa" or Maori fortification overlooking the entire river valley.

I joke about being "stuck" in Whangarei.  There just isn't a whole lot going on here.  But after a week here, I have to admit the little town has grown on me a bit. The city has done a nice job renovating the river front boardwalk, and there are plenty of parks around.  

BUT, I'm still anxious to get sailing again.  We might head south to Auckland again for a final inspection and supply run, then back up north and on to Fiji.  Wind and weather will be key factors of course.  For now, we're just taking it day by day in Whangarei... 

There are a lot of commercial spaces for lease in Whangarei.  Not sure if it's just "low season" or if the town is suffering from a more serious downtown? 

From time to time during the week, I'd visit Avalon to help with boat jobs as needed.

I explored the hills above town, hiking a trail near Whangarei Quarry Gardens.  This is the view from the historic "Pa" or Maori fortification site.  If you look closely, you can see the masts of sailboats in the marina just to the left of palm in center of picture.

Fish Out of Water

Well, more like a boat out of water. 

We arrived safely in Whangarei (WH is pronounced as “F”) after navigating a narrow channel up the Hatea River for two hours.  The channel was well marked, and the weather was mostly clear, so we lucked out.  It could have been a lot worse.  They nickname this place "Whangarainy" because of the frequent rain.  Nice.

Avalon was hauled out of the water upon arrival.  It was fascinating to help and watch the process… moving the boat under the crane, positioning the huge canvas straps at the lifting points, and then feeling the boat rise out of the water.  We only stayed on until the boat was a foot or two out of the water, to make sure everything was stable and secure.  Then we climbed off and they hoisted the boat another 6 feet into the air, so that the heavy keel and huge rudder would clear the dock.

After giving the hull a power wash, the service guys gingerly maneuvered the crane and boat down the shipyard lot, to our “parking spot.”  They gently lowered the boat onto stabilizers to keep it propped upright. 

The boat will be here for about a week, undergoing some inspections, repairs, and general maintenance.  Nothing unusual for a sailing vessel, especially after a long storage period, and/or before a major passage.

I made a video that highlights our emergence from the water and onto the dry land.  Check it out in the “Video” section.  Here's a link.

We’ll be back in the water in about a week.  Then we’ll sail back to Auckland for final preparation and provisioning before waiting for the weather window for sailing up to Fiji.

True to DBT form, I have lined up some non-sailing volunteer work for this week, while Avalon is getter her TLC. 

My hosts picked me up at the boatyard and took me to their home which was less than 2 miles away.   They have a very nice in-law unit that I will stay in while I help them by cleaning up their garden after the healthy summer growth.

More on that in my next post…

Refueling at Marsden Cove Marina before heading up river to Whangarei.

Hauled out of the water by a huge crane thing.

Getting a bath.

Heading down the boatyard to our "parking spot."