Part of the secret to success in life seems to be knowing when to bend rather than break, when to roll with the punches, when discretion is the better part of valor. Having re-evaluated the possibilities of building a supply boat here and now in Fiji, we've decided to defer that plan and go see Micronesia while we still can.
I know a lot more now about what features are really needed in the supply boat, and what difference it will make if it goes into service. I also know much more about the obstacles to doing anything that might rock the economic boat for those who have virtual monopoly businesses here in Fiji. I've decide that I was insufficiently prepared to get the envisioned boat built in the year allotted. It's just so hard to do anything here when everyone with economic or political power wants to keep
the place frozen in time. And it's relatively easy for them to do that, because the local population isn't exactly on fire for change to occur. Thawaro is a dry village, so there's no big problem with booze, and that was part of the attraction it has had for us. But they've substituted "grog", or kava. Growing yangona, which is ground up and mixed with water to make kava is a steady business here. They sell a good bit of it, but they also drink a good bit of it, sitting around the village center
for hours each night getting mummified on the stuff. That's one reason it's so hard to find a captain for a boat who won't let it turn to garbage. It also explains why they haven't staged a popular revolution. They're almost all hung over almost all the time. The leadership of the present "interim Government" seems to recognize the problem, and is trying to address it. But until they make some progress, the local businessmen will use the small govt officials to interfere with any competitive
actions.
After having worked on a half dozen outboard motors, and 3 of the local plywood trawler type supply boats, I see how quickly machinery deteriorates here from abuse and lack of maintenance. A boat that would do business here has to be nearly bulletproof, and very easily repaired, or it won't live long enough to return the capital investment. There are things about the Fijian people that endear them to us, but we can only do so much for them, and there's more world out there for us to go
and see. Having decided this, I'm not really all that upset about the failure of the first plan. I always knew it wasn't a sure thing, and it's not yet out of the question for the future. So we move on.
There are things I want to straighten out on Sequester before we go to sea again. We don't much trust the now rusty Simrad autopilot, so we're working on getting a new Autohelm unit sent out from the States. I'm reconfiguring the navigation station, making the weather fax machine easier to reach, so we'll program it more, and get more accurate weather updates. I have several friends and businesses looking for a good backup laptop computer, to be sure we keep on having onboard email, and navigation
programs to help us stay off the reefs. My electronics knowledge and skills are steadily expanding. I found out that the little Etrex GPS we have as an emergency backup unit will run a computer navigation program as well as the primary unit, if I get the right cable for it, so I'm chasing a cable and training myself to program it. I'm not satisfied with the anchoring windlass I installed in NZ, but the shipping time for that and the required 200 feet of chain puts it out of the realm of possibility
before our visa runs out. We could try having it sent to Samoa, and stop there on the way north, but that's probably not going to happen either. Most likely I'll just live with what we have until we reach Majuro, in the Marshalls, and by then we'll have figured out whether it's feasible to have one shipped there. This world exploration by sailboat is neither easy nor cheap, but it still looks like our most satisfying course for now.
For the immediate future, Jim and I are working out what projects I can address for him in the next 3 weeks that will do the most good for Also Island. Karen's still developing the kindergarten program in the village, in hopes that if she gets it well enough established it will outlive our stay. We're rapidly using up the ink cartridges in our printer, giving pictures to all of our village friends. They love to have photos of the family. We're giving our evenings over to reading cruising guides,
travel books, and the charts of Samoa, Tuvalu, Kiribati, and the Marshall Islands, listing what visas we need to have in advance, planning where we can anchor securely for exploratory stops, and as all sailors do, studying the prevailing winds for the run from here to Latitude 5 degrees North. Not that reality will hold much similarity to the predictions. But we do what we can to plan ahead, and then deal with reality as it comes. That's life. Life is good. Ted
Monday, August 20, 2007
Sunday, August 19, 2007
2007-08-14 Long walks, and broken guitars
The last time I wrote from Also Island I explained a bit about some of the cultural aspects of Fiji that have affected the economy. I continue to learn about that, but the last week has been full of activity with other cruising sailors as well as local Fijians, so I'll tell you a bit about those things.
I mentioned in the last 2 messages that Red Sky had turned up, with American sailors Steve and Carol on board. Then New Zealanders Laurie and Anna came in on a nice old wood planked 46-foot Salthouse designed boat, Loran-C. Most surprising was the late night arrival of Sea Eagle 2, a steel sloop from Whangarai NZ, with Ross and Pauline and their boy Hunter. That was the first time I realized how powerful the new electronic navigation systems really are. They ended up late arriving at the pass off Thawaro, but having been through it before, they had a reliable track on their Maxsea navigation chart, so decided it was better to get in and anchor rather than sit off the reef in gusty, strong winds. At 11:00 at night they tracked right thru the coral and put the hook down 100 meters from us.
We all got to know each other a bit as we worked together at a near frantic pace to put up the new antenna for Jim, so he wouldn't miss doing the Rag of the Air radio net for the South Pacific cruising sailors. That went quite well. Then the next morning, Marama ni Wasaliwa (Mother of the Ocean), the supply boat for Cikobia, came in with a propeller shaft problem.
Jim had spent most of a year off and on doing a refit on her, stopping when the funding would suddenly dry up, and even going so far once as to take her out of the shop and put her on a mooring. Once everyone was convinced that he wasn't going to finish it on credit, just to get it out of the shop, they came up with enough cash to get it running again. But about $50,000 was allocated by the Ministry of Transportation for the refit and by the time money got to Also Island, there was only half that available. Another job for the corruption probe committee. So, the shaft and rudder were left patched up rather than properly redesigned and refitted. Now that has come home to roost. And, despite Jim's strong warning that the new engine MUST come in for an oil and filter change at 200 hours running time, this is the first time she's been back, with about 230 hours on the hour meter. Looks as if they'll once again run it until it won't go before any service is done. Nonetheless, all of us have had a hand in getting her beached, blocked up, drive train parts pulled out and assessed, and repairs started both inside and out of the hull. Jim made a flying trip to Labasa for bearings and machine work, while we and the Fijian staff at the Island kept an eye on things here. He left Sunday afternoon, to return late Monday.
Laurie and Anna had a schedule to keep, and had done a list of nice things for all of us here, so they headed out Monday morning. But not before he had helped me get my GPS receiver to interface with my computer, to let us see at a glance where the boat is relative to the charted waters. That is going to make life among the coral reefs a LOT easier for us.
Karen and I have been promising ourselves for weeks that we'd get over to Qarnivai for a look around, and meet the people there. I met the chief from there a couple weeks ago when he visited the Island, and he invited us to come over. His name is John, pronounced "Shonie". They soften the "J" to an "sh", and add the obligatory end syllable for Fijians (spoon is pronounced as spoonie). John is almost 70 years old now, but is of the opinion that what's wrong with Fiji right now is mostly Fijian customs and the Methodist Church. He thinks it's time the villagers stopped drinking so much kava, started planning ahead a bit, and quit giving so much of their meager income to the church. There are churches in every village, church conferences several times a year, and ever expanding modern offices in the cities, while not all Fijians have houses, over half don't have running water in their houses, very few have a toilet in the house (villages have one or more communal toilets), and half the Udu Peninsula has no access to telephone, no reliable road system, and one clinic that is as much as 2 hours travel from many villages. Steve and Carol were in need of exercise and an outlook too, so on Monday morning with things ticking over slowly at Also Island, we decided to go to Qarnivai, and walk down the track to see if we could find John's place.
It's still blowing pretty hard here, so the dinghy ride across the bay was challenging and damp, but we were promptly met by a nice couple who welcomed us and showed us around. Turns out the whole village is one extended family, and our hostess, Miriama is John's younger sister. Her husband, Louis invited us to follow him down the track toward the "main road", visit a few people, see the farm. We accepted his offer, and spent several hours walking the track to where it meets the logging spur road, near where the bus comes by twice daily. John's brother William and his family live there at the junction. He says the traffic on the road amounts to about one 4-wheel drive a week going to Langie, where the clinic is. That is, when the road isn't washed out somewhere. We had opted to travel Fijian style, barefoot, so decided not to walk up the road to the bus stop, as there is some fairly harsh gravel in the clay of the road surface. Had a relaxing rest and talk with William's family on their well kept lawn, under the mango trees, before heading back. About halfway back, we made a detour, thru the bush to John's farm, and spent a delightful hour sitting with 3 generations of his family, drinking coconuts, talking politics and religion. He offered us the use of his punt (flat bottomed boat) to take the river back to the village if we were tired, but we opted to hike back out along the shortcut thru the woods, crossing two pretty creeks, back to the track into the village.
A half dozen of the villagers and their children came to Miriama's house to sit on the porch with us and talk about Fiji, New Zealand, and the USA. We had sandwiches and mixed nuts with us, which we shared with them, and Karen took over holding the only new baby in the village, a pretty, happy little girl a few weeks old. After an hour of visiting, with the tide high, they helped us get our dinghies launched and we headed back across the bay with spray flying and boats leaping up and down. As we neared our anchorage, we saw Jim's runabout round the point a mile out, throwing a cloud of white as it bashed thru the waves. As we got to Sequester we heard him on the radio, asking for someone to bring him a little more fuel. Pauline got the gas can and dinghy from Sea Eagle and was away, halfway out to him, when his motor stopped. Bucking the wind coming back, he'd burned 20% more fuel than usual.
I went in to the Island to see how the parts search had gone, and found a surprise there for me. When I first arrived, I'd found a broken guitar there, left by Ma'am Khatta's son to see if it could be repaired. It had been there nearly a year. In a week of intermittent little jobs on it, I had it ready to go, and he came by and picked it up. The word has now spread. The wrecks of two guitars had been dropped off at the Island on Monday, to see if I could rebuild the bodies. They're pretty rough, but with some glue, fiberglass and a bit of wood, I think we can squeeze a couple more years from them. No lack of projects here. Ted
I mentioned in the last 2 messages that Red Sky had turned up, with American sailors Steve and Carol on board. Then New Zealanders Laurie and Anna came in on a nice old wood planked 46-foot Salthouse designed boat, Loran-C. Most surprising was the late night arrival of Sea Eagle 2, a steel sloop from Whangarai NZ, with Ross and Pauline and their boy Hunter. That was the first time I realized how powerful the new electronic navigation systems really are. They ended up late arriving at the pass off Thawaro, but having been through it before, they had a reliable track on their Maxsea navigation chart, so decided it was better to get in and anchor rather than sit off the reef in gusty, strong winds. At 11:00 at night they tracked right thru the coral and put the hook down 100 meters from us.
We all got to know each other a bit as we worked together at a near frantic pace to put up the new antenna for Jim, so he wouldn't miss doing the Rag of the Air radio net for the South Pacific cruising sailors. That went quite well. Then the next morning, Marama ni Wasaliwa (Mother of the Ocean), the supply boat for Cikobia, came in with a propeller shaft problem.
Jim had spent most of a year off and on doing a refit on her, stopping when the funding would suddenly dry up, and even going so far once as to take her out of the shop and put her on a mooring. Once everyone was convinced that he wasn't going to finish it on credit, just to get it out of the shop, they came up with enough cash to get it running again. But about $50,000 was allocated by the Ministry of Transportation for the refit and by the time money got to Also Island, there was only half that available. Another job for the corruption probe committee. So, the shaft and rudder were left patched up rather than properly redesigned and refitted. Now that has come home to roost. And, despite Jim's strong warning that the new engine MUST come in for an oil and filter change at 200 hours running time, this is the first time she's been back, with about 230 hours on the hour meter. Looks as if they'll once again run it until it won't go before any service is done. Nonetheless, all of us have had a hand in getting her beached, blocked up, drive train parts pulled out and assessed, and repairs started both inside and out of the hull. Jim made a flying trip to Labasa for bearings and machine work, while we and the Fijian staff at the Island kept an eye on things here. He left Sunday afternoon, to return late Monday.
Laurie and Anna had a schedule to keep, and had done a list of nice things for all of us here, so they headed out Monday morning. But not before he had helped me get my GPS receiver to interface with my computer, to let us see at a glance where the boat is relative to the charted waters. That is going to make life among the coral reefs a LOT easier for us.
Karen and I have been promising ourselves for weeks that we'd get over to Qarnivai for a look around, and meet the people there. I met the chief from there a couple weeks ago when he visited the Island, and he invited us to come over. His name is John, pronounced "Shonie". They soften the "J" to an "sh", and add the obligatory end syllable for Fijians (spoon is pronounced as spoonie). John is almost 70 years old now, but is of the opinion that what's wrong with Fiji right now is mostly Fijian customs and the Methodist Church. He thinks it's time the villagers stopped drinking so much kava, started planning ahead a bit, and quit giving so much of their meager income to the church. There are churches in every village, church conferences several times a year, and ever expanding modern offices in the cities, while not all Fijians have houses, over half don't have running water in their houses, very few have a toilet in the house (villages have one or more communal toilets), and half the Udu Peninsula has no access to telephone, no reliable road system, and one clinic that is as much as 2 hours travel from many villages. Steve and Carol were in need of exercise and an outlook too, so on Monday morning with things ticking over slowly at Also Island, we decided to go to Qarnivai, and walk down the track to see if we could find John's place.
It's still blowing pretty hard here, so the dinghy ride across the bay was challenging and damp, but we were promptly met by a nice couple who welcomed us and showed us around. Turns out the whole village is one extended family, and our hostess, Miriama is John's younger sister. Her husband, Louis invited us to follow him down the track toward the "main road", visit a few people, see the farm. We accepted his offer, and spent several hours walking the track to where it meets the logging spur road, near where the bus comes by twice daily. John's brother William and his family live there at the junction. He says the traffic on the road amounts to about one 4-wheel drive a week going to Langie, where the clinic is. That is, when the road isn't washed out somewhere. We had opted to travel Fijian style, barefoot, so decided not to walk up the road to the bus stop, as there is some fairly harsh gravel in the clay of the road surface. Had a relaxing rest and talk with William's family on their well kept lawn, under the mango trees, before heading back. About halfway back, we made a detour, thru the bush to John's farm, and spent a delightful hour sitting with 3 generations of his family, drinking coconuts, talking politics and religion. He offered us the use of his punt (flat bottomed boat) to take the river back to the village if we were tired, but we opted to hike back out along the shortcut thru the woods, crossing two pretty creeks, back to the track into the village.
A half dozen of the villagers and their children came to Miriama's house to sit on the porch with us and talk about Fiji, New Zealand, and the USA. We had sandwiches and mixed nuts with us, which we shared with them, and Karen took over holding the only new baby in the village, a pretty, happy little girl a few weeks old. After an hour of visiting, with the tide high, they helped us get our dinghies launched and we headed back across the bay with spray flying and boats leaping up and down. As we neared our anchorage, we saw Jim's runabout round the point a mile out, throwing a cloud of white as it bashed thru the waves. As we got to Sequester we heard him on the radio, asking for someone to bring him a little more fuel. Pauline got the gas can and dinghy from Sea Eagle and was away, halfway out to him, when his motor stopped. Bucking the wind coming back, he'd burned 20% more fuel than usual.
I went in to the Island to see how the parts search had gone, and found a surprise there for me. When I first arrived, I'd found a broken guitar there, left by Ma'am Khatta's son to see if it could be repaired. It had been there nearly a year. In a week of intermittent little jobs on it, I had it ready to go, and he came by and picked it up. The word has now spread. The wrecks of two guitars had been dropped off at the Island on Monday, to see if I could rebuild the bodies. They're pretty rough, but with some glue, fiberglass and a bit of wood, I think we can squeeze a couple more years from them. No lack of projects here. Ted
2007-08-09 Radios and Emails
I've gotten some surprised commentary about the size of a couple of my emails lately, and thought I should offer some explanation. It's a bit technical, but bear with me. As we explained before, the time on the radio frequency is the limiting factor for each subscriber's use. The Winlink and Sailmail operators are continuously trying to increase speed, to allow more information exchange in that limited time. I spent about $800 just before we left NZ to upgrade our radio modem to the newly developed Pactor 3 code from Pactor 2. In good radio conditions, that will increase maximum transmit speed from about 400 bytes per minute to about 1400. But if radio wave propagation is poor, due to low sunspot activity, or if background noise is high, due to solar flares or human RF activity, the maximum won't be reached. The developers of the system came up with a clever protocol where a segment of information is sent, then the recieving end sends it back. If it comes back right the transmission continues where it left off. If it has errors or holes in it, the bad parts are re transmitted until the return is correct. So, if conditions are bad, data may have to be exchanged up to 5 times to get it right. That slows even Pactor 3 down to under 150 bytes per minute. Learning to get the most out of the system involves learning when the propagation is best and the noise the least on each of the 10 frequencies the Sailmail station at Firefly, Australia moniters. Two things have been improving our use. I've been learning which frequencies work best when, and radio propagation in general has improved in the last week. I was expecting to have to break the longest of those emails into two or three segments, as I did with the reef story. I was astonished to see the transmit speed rising to over 1200 bytes per minute when I sent a short batch of business emails, so as soon as that was finished I posted the big message, and re connected. I love it when it works like that, but we can't count on it. We do get to be dependent on it though.
This morning just at the end of the Rag of the Air radio net, with the wind blowing a low-end gale, Jim heard a big clunk and the radio went dead. His antenna wire had come down from the tree that held it. That meant he couldn't order materials, couldn't contact Kyoko, who has gone to Labasa for the week, couldn't send or recieve information about the licenses and visas we need. But coincidence is a strange thing. Yesterday afternoon a NZ yacht arrived unannounced, and it turns out lorrie is a very competent radio technician and was keen to give us a hand. I went out to the Also 2 on its mooring, and took off the broken HF radio whip antenna that has languished there since the last cyclone 5 months ago. I spliced the break, and Steve (Red Sky) and I devised a mounting for it on a tree up on the hill. Sea Eagle 2 had arrived late last night with Ross and Pauline and their boy Hunter. They and Lorrie set about rewiring the automatic antenna tuner to work in the new system, and we all had a hand in devising and installing a grounding system. Just before dark, the last wire was connected, the system tested, and Sailmail contacted and messages sent. If it was going to break, it could have done it at a MUCH worse time. I've said before, there's a LOT of talent out here sailing around. It's fun to have a team come together like that, from nowhere, and solve a problem. Good, too that everyone's competent boat handlers. The gale force gusts are still blasting off the hills, but no anchors are dragging, everything is sitting nicely here at Also Island. Ted
This morning just at the end of the Rag of the Air radio net, with the wind blowing a low-end gale, Jim heard a big clunk and the radio went dead. His antenna wire had come down from the tree that held it. That meant he couldn't order materials, couldn't contact Kyoko, who has gone to Labasa for the week, couldn't send or recieve information about the licenses and visas we need. But coincidence is a strange thing. Yesterday afternoon a NZ yacht arrived unannounced, and it turns out lorrie is a very competent radio technician and was keen to give us a hand. I went out to the Also 2 on its mooring, and took off the broken HF radio whip antenna that has languished there since the last cyclone 5 months ago. I spliced the break, and Steve (Red Sky) and I devised a mounting for it on a tree up on the hill. Sea Eagle 2 had arrived late last night with Ross and Pauline and their boy Hunter. They and Lorrie set about rewiring the automatic antenna tuner to work in the new system, and we all had a hand in devising and installing a grounding system. Just before dark, the last wire was connected, the system tested, and Sailmail contacted and messages sent. If it was going to break, it could have done it at a MUCH worse time. I've said before, there's a LOT of talent out here sailing around. It's fun to have a team come together like that, from nowhere, and solve a problem. Good, too that everyone's competent boat handlers. The gale force gusts are still blasting off the hills, but no anchors are dragging, everything is sitting nicely here at Also Island. Ted
Wednesday, August 8, 2007
2007-08-08 Fiji economy 101
The message I sent a few days ago, called "Jim's Suva Adventure” had a bit of commentary on the political situation and the coup here in Fiji. That was intended to give you all some background regarding the sad state of the Fijian economy. The Qarase govt was living on aid and loans, and diverting most of the funding to the accounts of a few influential individuals. The economy here was failing, whether or not there was a coup. One of the last straws that triggered Bainimarama to take over was the introduction of proposed legislation known as the Qoli-qoli bill. qoli-qoli is the foreshore and the nearshore waters, traditionally controlled by each village as their own fishing grounds. The new bill would have awarded to indigenous Fijians total control of these areas, including ability to charge tolls for boat traffic thru their qoli-qoli. Turns out, there is strong speculation that there are large oil and gas deposits in southern Fiji waters, and coincidentally, the bill would have allowed the tribal chiefs to charge unregulated transport and landing fees to any exploration or drilling and recovery operations passing near their villages. Free cash for the chiefs, and almost surely nothing for the average citizen. ABSOLUTELY nothing for any Indian-Fijian. In Bainimarama's opinion, that sort of racist favoritism and repressive private taxation is not good for business. And actually without the Indo-Fijians, there would be virtually NO business in Fiji. Following is an excerpt from a letter to my niece Kerri, who was inquiring about marketable art works from the indigenous populace. It explains at least partially the economic base of the native Fijians." We've asked around and looked around at the Udu peninsula crafts, and the only artistic expression we really see is in the area of weaving. They make a lot of things from woven palm, pandanus, and bamboo. There's a little "self expression" and some interest in aesthetics there, but really they don't seem to make the leap from pleasantly appealing utility to display art. The whole culture is based on making and using things that have pretty low durability and short life span. That's part of our problem in trying to build a boat based transport business; these are culturally subsistence farmers and hunter-gatherers. They don't expect to use anything for long, so don't take care of anything, just use it till it fails and throw it away. That's a big part of the culture clash between indigenous Fijian and Indian Fijian; the Indians are technology oriented, profit motivated, and industrious. They buy and maintain modern equipment and gadgets. The Fijian kids want the gadgets (cell phones, stereos, cars, outboard motors) but don't have any idea how to pay for them or keep them going." An example is the traditional shelter. They have lived in a woven walled, thatch roofed "bure" for thousands of years here. There was no point in building durable, as a cyclone was going to take away anything they could build, and in a couple days a new dwelling could be put up. Now about 3/4 of them have switched to more "modern" building materials, but the construction isn't much more advanced than that of a traditional bure, and the bure looks a LOT better.
That's a snapshot of part of the economic problem here. I'll be addressing it more I'm sure.
Life here on the boats is kind of interesting. Steve and Carol got to be radio friends while we were in NZ and they were in Tonga. We met in SavuSavu, and Steve was one of the guys relaying my radio traffic and offering moral support while we were up on the reef on the way around the island. They arrived here at Also Island yesterday, and plan to stay a while to socialize and lend a hand with a few things. Brought a great big fresh mahi-mahi with them, my favorite fish of all. We ate really well tonight. This afternoon, unannounced, another yacht, a couple from NZ, came in. Lorrie and Anna seem to be excellent folks, and expect to be around a few days, so we should have good company here at Also Island for a while. The weather has just gone through a couple days of pretty calm wind, but tonight it's gone quite boisterous, with reinforced trade winds from the southeast. Bit of a chop on the anchorage, but plenty of power for the wind generator. Full batteries. Life is good. Ted
That's a snapshot of part of the economic problem here. I'll be addressing it more I'm sure.
Life here on the boats is kind of interesting. Steve and Carol got to be radio friends while we were in NZ and they were in Tonga. We met in SavuSavu, and Steve was one of the guys relaying my radio traffic and offering moral support while we were up on the reef on the way around the island. They arrived here at Also Island yesterday, and plan to stay a while to socialize and lend a hand with a few things. Brought a great big fresh mahi-mahi with them, my favorite fish of all. We ate really well tonight. This afternoon, unannounced, another yacht, a couple from NZ, came in. Lorrie and Anna seem to be excellent folks, and expect to be around a few days, so we should have good company here at Also Island for a while. The weather has just gone through a couple days of pretty calm wind, but tonight it's gone quite boisterous, with reinforced trade winds from the southeast. Bit of a chop on the anchorage, but plenty of power for the wind generator. Full batteries. Life is good. Ted
Monday, August 6, 2007
2007-08-04 Off to Labasa
Apparently the shape of the island east of our anchorage has the effect of modifying the winds from that direction. When the trade winds are strong, as now, we experience a rhythmic gusting, with a time period of about a minute between cycles. We get about a minute of breeze at around 5 to 10 knots with a slightly shifting direction, followed by an explosive blast at 30 plus knots lasting 45 seconds to a minute. The gust dies out, and the cycle repeats. It's a little unsettling, but in the gusts the wind generator gives the batteries a big pulse of charging current. So I can use the computer as much as I want to right now. A good opportunity to write about the trip Jim and I took to Labasa.
Jim got back from Suva Friday evening, and by Monday announced that we should go to Labasa on Tuesday to start the process of application for my work permit. We would take the Also 5, a 19-foot runabout with a 40 horsepower outboard motor. A one-way trip takes about 2 and a half hours, and $50 worth of fuel.
But there was a hitch. Also Island is entirely dependent on the 28-foot plywood trawler, the Lady K, making a trip to Labasa each Thursday. She carries a cargo of the fish the villagers have caught during the week, and any passengers who want to go to town badly enough to pay the $8 fare and listen to the engine all day. She takes 6 to 8 hours for the run arriving mid afternoon at Fiji fisheries dock. Fish are sold, and ice is bought and loaded for the next weeks' fishing. Rizwan, the Also Island agent in Labasa delivers the goods order for the Also Island store, and 55 gallon drums (375 pounds each) of fuel for outboard motors, kerosene lamps, and pressurized white gas type stoves are rolled out a plank from the dock, then manhandled into the deck house. Friday morning passengers embark, and she returns. Last week the transom platform broke under the weight of two men and a drum of fuel. Also there's been a marginal overheating problem since a repair was made to the keel cooler, and it needs attention. That has to be done before we leave, so the boat can fish for a day, then go on Thursday morning.
We ran her up on the beach on Sunday, and started the keel cooler repair. That turned into new holes in the hull, running copper tubing, making and gluing patches on the bottom, and modifying hose end fittings. It was complicated by the boat lying on one side at a 25-degree angle, and the bilge being well lubricated with old, black diesel crankcase oil mixed with a few gallons of seawater. It required great caution and leg strength not to fall down in the bilge, and took an hour of cleaning for me to see where to drill, and how to glue patches. In the process we found the battery cable had broken off and the captain had just jury-rigged it, never telling Jim there was a repair needed. That was true to his performance for the last months, and was the last straw. Jim changed captains. By Monday that was enough under control to have Pita, the newly appointed captain of the boat, finish connecting hoses, clamp and secure things, and do an oil change on the diesel. Jim and I started cutting away the old transom platform and making parts for the new one. By Monday night we had parts made, the sides of the boat prepped, and a plan for repairing the damage to the sides as we glued on the new supports. No trip to Labasa for us Tuesday, but we had to go Wednesday as a ride had been promised to Ma'am Khatta, the school principle's wife. She goes to town monthly to see her daughter's family.
Tuesday we started assembling the new platform, while Pita repacked the leaky old shaft gland, reassembled the interior, and repacked the cooler of fish we'd had to empty and move to do the cooling line. Working around the tide it took until 4:00 PM to finish the platform and ready the boat for trials. We took a break from construction, and just sold fuel to customers and had a bite to eat while we waited for the tide at 6:00 to float her. At dusk we got her afloat, fired up, and headed across the bay to test the cooling and adjust the shaft gland. Jim got the packing adjusted after taking a few gallons of water into the bilge, and the cooling seemed to be fine. But the shifter had been allowed to fall apart, again with no mention by the old captain. We went back to the beach, and started pulling the controls apart in the dark, using flashlights. By 7:00 we were starting manufacture of a new shift lever, pivot mount, and cable clamps. Two hours of searching out materials, designing, cutting, grinding, and assembling had the shifter better than new. We were trashed. My back ached, and my right knee was swollen and tender. I couldn't imagine leaving for Labasa in 10 hours. But we did. We fueled up at dawn, swung by the village, and Ma'am Khatta, 50 years old and 200 plus pounds, waded out to the boat and clambered over the side to settle down on the floor for the ride. We made one false start, returned after a 5-minute start to get a forgotten paper, then settled in with the outboard howling at full throttle for the trip down. The tide was very high allowing us to take shortcuts over some reef areas. We were winding up the Labasa river dodging logs by 9:00, and just after 10:00 were helping Ma'am Khatta climb into another boat alongside so we could drag it to the half sunk floating dock. Rizwan met us there with the pickup truck, Jim joined him in the cab and I climbed into the canopied bed behind the cab, and we started the day's errands.
We saw the accountant, the doctor, the hospital (blood tests and x-rays), the police, the notary, the Internet parlor, and the machinist who does fabrications and repairs for Jim. The discussion with Rizwan was almost entirely about how to obtain materials and have them delivered within our lifetime, without costing triple in transport what was paid for them. It seems that frequently the customs agent will "lose" a package for a while in the warehouse. The record time for this is a bit over 2 months, with the agent being called twice a week to look for it. When it was discovered in the warehouse, it was shown that Also was spelled “Aslo”, so they could not have been expected to find the owner (despite phone numbers, addresses, and return addresses and phone numbers). Each day, it seems, it had been in the way, and had to be moved with a forklift. Each move with the lift was charged at $15, so for 10 weeks the charge was $750, plus standard storage of $3 per day. This was the maximum example, but NOT out of character. I looked in the stores, and talked about materials for boat building. Fiji Forest Industries now exports ALL of its grade one marine and exterior plywood. We can buy seconds when they are available, but there is no reliable supply. I was feeling the desperation rising. I had estimated 5 months to build a 40-foot catamaran. Clearly, I couldn't even get the wood in that time. I pretty much hurt all over from two days of climbing in and out of and wading around the Lady K. The police were a bit uncertain about the work permit, but I definitely needed a certified birth certificate sent from Massachusetts. Desperation slid toward depression. All afternoon it rained torrentially, and the water blew thru the truck canopy, soaking me, as Rizwan skittered over the potholes from business to business. By evening I was dropping hints to Jim that I couldn't see how we could get anything done in a year. I slept from about 10:00 PM until 4:00 AM, then lay awake trying to visualize how I could even get the hull shape I wanted on the boat, even if I could get materials and permits. My brain wouldn't work right. At breakfast I told Jim I'd go thru the motions of the work permit, and submit the $650 application fee, but I doubted if I'd stay beyond the 6-month temporary permit. I felt hopeless. He just did what he's done here for almost 6 years now. Plod on and see if it can be salvaged. I spent 2 hours on the Internet, forgot to check two of the sites I had wanted to see, and failed to get two others to open. The emails I wrote were not cheerful.
By noon we were running cargo between shops and the dock, loading and fueling the Also 5 and talking to Pita who had just arrived with the lady K. His trip had been good. I couldn't imagine how, in that worn out old trap of a boat, but it was apparently the best it's been for a year. They only had to bail it twice, and add cooling water once. Good grief!! They'd head back in the morning. We got Ma'am Khatta in the boat, at 1:30 and headed down the river on a low tide, dodging floating logs and all manner of other vessels running along the channel. With the extra weight of cargo, the boat was down about 20% in speed. But it wasn't raining any more. I took out a small-scale chart to track the trip and try to memorize the shoals.
At some point I started mentally designing again. Maybe we could downsize the cat and still have a viable boat. Every decrease in size improved the chances of completion. As we dodged mudflats, sandbars, and then reefs, I could see that what was needed here was a water jet drive, with a bulletproof Kevlar shoe on the bottom of the cat. With the absolute minimum draft of that arrangement, and the ability to bounce off rock bottom without significant damage, the boat could make a far better average speed, and could run at night with reasonable safety. I started to talk (yell) with Jim over the noise of the outboard about what would work best. I tracked progress, noting dangers to navigation. He could see I was swinging back toward interest in the project.
At Silivakatini, about 10 miles from Thawaro (by the way, in Fijian, C and TH are interchangeable) Jim called in to report our position. We couldn't hear the Island radio yet, but were fairly confident they could hear us. 5 minutes later, Jim mentioned that he couldn't find the inshore reef marker, it must have come down, and that made him nervous. 2 minutes after that the water flashed from gray/green to yellow/green, and with a great crash the motor kicked up on the transom, howling at full throttle with the prop spinning in the air, and the boat skidded to a stop. Jim slammed the throttle shut and hit the kill switch. A quick inspection showed that the foot and prop seemed to have survived largely intact. I poled the boat back to deep water from the 2-foot deep sandbar; we reassessed our position and direction, restarted, and headed on. The boat was a little slower, and had a vibration. I diagnosed it as prop damage, and sure enough, a closer inspection showed a wrinkled leading edge on one blade. But it was good enough to limp on home with.
Karen was bubbling over with news from her days at the kindergarten, in love with the children, in need of a couple of projects from me to secure their materials storage and improve her dinghy anchoring on her morning commute. I may not get the cat done, but we're obviously going to stay a while. There's plenty to do. And if the Bainimarama interim govt gets things cleaned up a bit at Customs, maybe we can import what we need. Maybe we will get a boat built.
Jim got back from Suva Friday evening, and by Monday announced that we should go to Labasa on Tuesday to start the process of application for my work permit. We would take the Also 5, a 19-foot runabout with a 40 horsepower outboard motor. A one-way trip takes about 2 and a half hours, and $50 worth of fuel.
But there was a hitch. Also Island is entirely dependent on the 28-foot plywood trawler, the Lady K, making a trip to Labasa each Thursday. She carries a cargo of the fish the villagers have caught during the week, and any passengers who want to go to town badly enough to pay the $8 fare and listen to the engine all day. She takes 6 to 8 hours for the run arriving mid afternoon at Fiji fisheries dock. Fish are sold, and ice is bought and loaded for the next weeks' fishing. Rizwan, the Also Island agent in Labasa delivers the goods order for the Also Island store, and 55 gallon drums (375 pounds each) of fuel for outboard motors, kerosene lamps, and pressurized white gas type stoves are rolled out a plank from the dock, then manhandled into the deck house. Friday morning passengers embark, and she returns. Last week the transom platform broke under the weight of two men and a drum of fuel. Also there's been a marginal overheating problem since a repair was made to the keel cooler, and it needs attention. That has to be done before we leave, so the boat can fish for a day, then go on Thursday morning.
We ran her up on the beach on Sunday, and started the keel cooler repair. That turned into new holes in the hull, running copper tubing, making and gluing patches on the bottom, and modifying hose end fittings. It was complicated by the boat lying on one side at a 25-degree angle, and the bilge being well lubricated with old, black diesel crankcase oil mixed with a few gallons of seawater. It required great caution and leg strength not to fall down in the bilge, and took an hour of cleaning for me to see where to drill, and how to glue patches. In the process we found the battery cable had broken off and the captain had just jury-rigged it, never telling Jim there was a repair needed. That was true to his performance for the last months, and was the last straw. Jim changed captains. By Monday that was enough under control to have Pita, the newly appointed captain of the boat, finish connecting hoses, clamp and secure things, and do an oil change on the diesel. Jim and I started cutting away the old transom platform and making parts for the new one. By Monday night we had parts made, the sides of the boat prepped, and a plan for repairing the damage to the sides as we glued on the new supports. No trip to Labasa for us Tuesday, but we had to go Wednesday as a ride had been promised to Ma'am Khatta, the school principle's wife. She goes to town monthly to see her daughter's family.
Tuesday we started assembling the new platform, while Pita repacked the leaky old shaft gland, reassembled the interior, and repacked the cooler of fish we'd had to empty and move to do the cooling line. Working around the tide it took until 4:00 PM to finish the platform and ready the boat for trials. We took a break from construction, and just sold fuel to customers and had a bite to eat while we waited for the tide at 6:00 to float her. At dusk we got her afloat, fired up, and headed across the bay to test the cooling and adjust the shaft gland. Jim got the packing adjusted after taking a few gallons of water into the bilge, and the cooling seemed to be fine. But the shifter had been allowed to fall apart, again with no mention by the old captain. We went back to the beach, and started pulling the controls apart in the dark, using flashlights. By 7:00 we were starting manufacture of a new shift lever, pivot mount, and cable clamps. Two hours of searching out materials, designing, cutting, grinding, and assembling had the shifter better than new. We were trashed. My back ached, and my right knee was swollen and tender. I couldn't imagine leaving for Labasa in 10 hours. But we did. We fueled up at dawn, swung by the village, and Ma'am Khatta, 50 years old and 200 plus pounds, waded out to the boat and clambered over the side to settle down on the floor for the ride. We made one false start, returned after a 5-minute start to get a forgotten paper, then settled in with the outboard howling at full throttle for the trip down. The tide was very high allowing us to take shortcuts over some reef areas. We were winding up the Labasa river dodging logs by 9:00, and just after 10:00 were helping Ma'am Khatta climb into another boat alongside so we could drag it to the half sunk floating dock. Rizwan met us there with the pickup truck, Jim joined him in the cab and I climbed into the canopied bed behind the cab, and we started the day's errands.
We saw the accountant, the doctor, the hospital (blood tests and x-rays), the police, the notary, the Internet parlor, and the machinist who does fabrications and repairs for Jim. The discussion with Rizwan was almost entirely about how to obtain materials and have them delivered within our lifetime, without costing triple in transport what was paid for them. It seems that frequently the customs agent will "lose" a package for a while in the warehouse. The record time for this is a bit over 2 months, with the agent being called twice a week to look for it. When it was discovered in the warehouse, it was shown that Also was spelled “Aslo”, so they could not have been expected to find the owner (despite phone numbers, addresses, and return addresses and phone numbers). Each day, it seems, it had been in the way, and had to be moved with a forklift. Each move with the lift was charged at $15, so for 10 weeks the charge was $750, plus standard storage of $3 per day. This was the maximum example, but NOT out of character. I looked in the stores, and talked about materials for boat building. Fiji Forest Industries now exports ALL of its grade one marine and exterior plywood. We can buy seconds when they are available, but there is no reliable supply. I was feeling the desperation rising. I had estimated 5 months to build a 40-foot catamaran. Clearly, I couldn't even get the wood in that time. I pretty much hurt all over from two days of climbing in and out of and wading around the Lady K. The police were a bit uncertain about the work permit, but I definitely needed a certified birth certificate sent from Massachusetts. Desperation slid toward depression. All afternoon it rained torrentially, and the water blew thru the truck canopy, soaking me, as Rizwan skittered over the potholes from business to business. By evening I was dropping hints to Jim that I couldn't see how we could get anything done in a year. I slept from about 10:00 PM until 4:00 AM, then lay awake trying to visualize how I could even get the hull shape I wanted on the boat, even if I could get materials and permits. My brain wouldn't work right. At breakfast I told Jim I'd go thru the motions of the work permit, and submit the $650 application fee, but I doubted if I'd stay beyond the 6-month temporary permit. I felt hopeless. He just did what he's done here for almost 6 years now. Plod on and see if it can be salvaged. I spent 2 hours on the Internet, forgot to check two of the sites I had wanted to see, and failed to get two others to open. The emails I wrote were not cheerful.
By noon we were running cargo between shops and the dock, loading and fueling the Also 5 and talking to Pita who had just arrived with the lady K. His trip had been good. I couldn't imagine how, in that worn out old trap of a boat, but it was apparently the best it's been for a year. They only had to bail it twice, and add cooling water once. Good grief!! They'd head back in the morning. We got Ma'am Khatta in the boat, at 1:30 and headed down the river on a low tide, dodging floating logs and all manner of other vessels running along the channel. With the extra weight of cargo, the boat was down about 20% in speed. But it wasn't raining any more. I took out a small-scale chart to track the trip and try to memorize the shoals.
At some point I started mentally designing again. Maybe we could downsize the cat and still have a viable boat. Every decrease in size improved the chances of completion. As we dodged mudflats, sandbars, and then reefs, I could see that what was needed here was a water jet drive, with a bulletproof Kevlar shoe on the bottom of the cat. With the absolute minimum draft of that arrangement, and the ability to bounce off rock bottom without significant damage, the boat could make a far better average speed, and could run at night with reasonable safety. I started to talk (yell) with Jim over the noise of the outboard about what would work best. I tracked progress, noting dangers to navigation. He could see I was swinging back toward interest in the project.
At Silivakatini, about 10 miles from Thawaro (by the way, in Fijian, C and TH are interchangeable) Jim called in to report our position. We couldn't hear the Island radio yet, but were fairly confident they could hear us. 5 minutes later, Jim mentioned that he couldn't find the inshore reef marker, it must have come down, and that made him nervous. 2 minutes after that the water flashed from gray/green to yellow/green, and with a great crash the motor kicked up on the transom, howling at full throttle with the prop spinning in the air, and the boat skidded to a stop. Jim slammed the throttle shut and hit the kill switch. A quick inspection showed that the foot and prop seemed to have survived largely intact. I poled the boat back to deep water from the 2-foot deep sandbar; we reassessed our position and direction, restarted, and headed on. The boat was a little slower, and had a vibration. I diagnosed it as prop damage, and sure enough, a closer inspection showed a wrinkled leading edge on one blade. But it was good enough to limp on home with.
Karen was bubbling over with news from her days at the kindergarten, in love with the children, in need of a couple of projects from me to secure their materials storage and improve her dinghy anchoring on her morning commute. I may not get the cat done, but we're obviously going to stay a while. There's plenty to do. And if the Bainimarama interim govt gets things cleaned up a bit at Customs, maybe we can import what we need. Maybe we will get a boat built.
2007-07-29 Teacher
Just a little note to let you know how my life is shaping up here. It seems I am now the kindergarten teacher! I knew that one of our cruiser friends, Linda on Irish Melody, had started a kindergarten while she was here. She had taught kindergarten for years, and her goal was to get it established and pass it on to the locals. Well, since I'm looking for any excuse to be around little kids, I offered to help with it. In two days it is obvious to me that there remains very little structure to the class, and even less learning. The children all speak Fijian, but when they attend primary school it will be in English. So I'm teaching them the alphabet, numbers, and colors. Lepsy, the young teacher, is acting as my interpreter. She seems more than happy for me to take charge, so I've written an emergency email to Linda for some advice. We also need supplies, as the cyclone destroyed many of their materials. So in the next couple weeks Ted and I will make the trip to Labasa and I'll look for appropriate supplies. We will be having the kindergarten on Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday mornings. The locals are SO grateful for anything we do, so it is very rewarding. I've taken to leaving the dinghy by the primary and secondary schools and walking for 30 minutes through the bush and over a couple rivers to the village. It is a nice walk and I get some exercise. Today I was talking to one of the secondary teachers and she will send her young one with me, as well as another little one. So I will have some charges to keep me company. We have about 15 students in the class, ranging from 3-5 years. It's great fun!
Love, Karen
Love, Karen
Saturday, August 4, 2007
2007-08-03 Jim's Suva adventure
Fiji politics and other trivia
Jim got back from Suva late Friday afternoon, and it felt like it wasn't a minute too soon. Also Island is a pretty busy place, and with us unfamiliar, and Kyoko still recovering from a mild stroke last month, we had our hands full. The core of vilagers who are regular workers at the Island have become absolutely indispensable, and kept us alive for the week. We sat up for a while into the night hearing what Jim had found in Suva.
Part of the urgency for the trip was to report to the Government Corruption Investgative Committee about what had happened with the govt contract for a new supply boat for Cikobia Island, which had been signed, dragged on for over 2 years, and then languished for lack of funds Although $70,000 had been sent to the ministry of Transportation for it, nobody could find it!! The Cikobia community finally raised enough money for Jim to do a total rebuild on their old boat. That sort of thing is exactly why Commodore Varanaeke (Frank in English) Bainimarama, after a year of clear warnings to the Qarase govt, finally went through with the military coup that now runs Fiji. The US, New Zealand, and Australia have all been very critical of the coup, and have instituted sanctions, but the GCIC continues to uncover mountains of evidence of graft, bribery and theft among all levels of the last government. Jim was not a supporter of Qarase after the first couple of years trying to do business under his government, and less so after, against all polls and odds, he won a second term. (Sound familiar, anyone???) So Jim was a bit tickled after a round of visits to several govt ministers, to report that the committee is closing in on Qarase himself now, looking at his business dealings and personal fortune. Truth is, although the coup was apparently justified and probably necessary, things like that are never an unmixed blessing. Good intent notwithstanding, Jim says the Committee is a bit of a vigilante group, prepared to believe the worst and act accordingly. Frank's army power base isn't well trained or well suited for police and governing work, and there are indisputable cases of abuse of power and brutality as the coup govt suppresses dissent. Frank is an excellent soldier, and I believe has the good of the country at heart. But he's not a good politician at all, and there's not a subtle bone in his body. The sooner he can get thru the investigations and indictments, and then hold elections, the better. But if he doesn't keep on until that's achieved, it will all have been for naught. And, coincidentally, if he fails, someone will either imprison or kill him for his trouble. He has incentive to make it work.
On another front, Jim's favorite cabinet minister was evidently clean, and has retained his post, so Jim went to see Posele about permits, contracts, and advice on my work permit. Posele at first said we were far enough out of town to just do what we want to, but Jim said we want to play it by the book, so Posele sent him to the Deputy Commissioner for Immigration. He took along a resume letter he'd had me write about my qualifications and our aims. The upshot was that the Dept. Comm called in the regional manager, and explained that I was to get a permit. The manager asked the standard question; "Why can't a Fijian do the job?" but hadn't quite finished asking when his boss said, with considerable force, that no Fijian had my qualifications for the position, and I was going to get a permit or he was going to "kick some butt". Jim has NEVER heard a Fijian present that aggressively before. They avoid confrontation at all costs. So, immediately on his return, he scheduled for me to go to Labasa with him to get my medical exam and initiate the NZ Police Report for my visa. That trip is the next story.
Jim got back from Suva late Friday afternoon, and it felt like it wasn't a minute too soon. Also Island is a pretty busy place, and with us unfamiliar, and Kyoko still recovering from a mild stroke last month, we had our hands full. The core of vilagers who are regular workers at the Island have become absolutely indispensable, and kept us alive for the week. We sat up for a while into the night hearing what Jim had found in Suva.
Part of the urgency for the trip was to report to the Government Corruption Investgative Committee about what had happened with the govt contract for a new supply boat for Cikobia Island, which had been signed, dragged on for over 2 years, and then languished for lack of funds Although $70,000 had been sent to the ministry of Transportation for it, nobody could find it!! The Cikobia community finally raised enough money for Jim to do a total rebuild on their old boat. That sort of thing is exactly why Commodore Varanaeke (Frank in English) Bainimarama, after a year of clear warnings to the Qarase govt, finally went through with the military coup that now runs Fiji. The US, New Zealand, and Australia have all been very critical of the coup, and have instituted sanctions, but the GCIC continues to uncover mountains of evidence of graft, bribery and theft among all levels of the last government. Jim was not a supporter of Qarase after the first couple of years trying to do business under his government, and less so after, against all polls and odds, he won a second term. (Sound familiar, anyone???) So Jim was a bit tickled after a round of visits to several govt ministers, to report that the committee is closing in on Qarase himself now, looking at his business dealings and personal fortune. Truth is, although the coup was apparently justified and probably necessary, things like that are never an unmixed blessing. Good intent notwithstanding, Jim says the Committee is a bit of a vigilante group, prepared to believe the worst and act accordingly. Frank's army power base isn't well trained or well suited for police and governing work, and there are indisputable cases of abuse of power and brutality as the coup govt suppresses dissent. Frank is an excellent soldier, and I believe has the good of the country at heart. But he's not a good politician at all, and there's not a subtle bone in his body. The sooner he can get thru the investigations and indictments, and then hold elections, the better. But if he doesn't keep on until that's achieved, it will all have been for naught. And, coincidentally, if he fails, someone will either imprison or kill him for his trouble. He has incentive to make it work.
On another front, Jim's favorite cabinet minister was evidently clean, and has retained his post, so Jim went to see Posele about permits, contracts, and advice on my work permit. Posele at first said we were far enough out of town to just do what we want to, but Jim said we want to play it by the book, so Posele sent him to the Deputy Commissioner for Immigration. He took along a resume letter he'd had me write about my qualifications and our aims. The upshot was that the Dept. Comm called in the regional manager, and explained that I was to get a permit. The manager asked the standard question; "Why can't a Fijian do the job?" but hadn't quite finished asking when his boss said, with considerable force, that no Fijian had my qualifications for the position, and I was going to get a permit or he was going to "kick some butt". Jim has NEVER heard a Fijian present that aggressively before. They avoid confrontation at all costs. So, immediately on his return, he scheduled for me to go to Labasa with him to get my medical exam and initiate the NZ Police Report for my visa. That trip is the next story.
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