Back in Majuro
At dawn Thursday morning we picked up the anchor and headed for the Wotje Atoll pass. The wind direction was fairly good, and stayed there all the way back here. Once clear of the pass, it was blowing a bit harder than predicted, but the sea state was far rougher than would normally be expected. In the 20 knots and less that we had, the sea looked more like a low end gale was blowing. 10 foot swells from the east piled up and broke as they converged with a northerly set, producing a violent motion on the boat. The leeward float kept stuffing into the waves as it hit the bottom of the troughs, shovelling hundreds of gallons of seawater up onto the cabin top, where it ran aft like a small tidal bore, then poured into the cockpit. It did that for the first 7 hours, tearing the forward net off the starboard side. After we made it to the latitude of Maloelap, even from 25 miles away, that atoll broke the easterly swell, so the ride improved considerably. Still not smooth, but quite a bit drier. Wit some squalls, and no moon, we kept the sail area small overnight, but were already at the southern end of Aur atoll by dawn Friday. With conditions a little better, we put up a bit more sail, and kept her moving fast, so that by 1:00 in the afternoon we were at the pass into Majuro. It's a long way straight upwind from there to the mooring field, so we spent until about 5:30 getting back to town. Ken from Moonbird saw us coming, cleaned up the line from our mooring, and handed it to us when we came in, making it an easy arrival. We had a tremendous time in Ailuk and Wotje, and were out there long enough to be ready for the big town here. Back to internet, stores, and an assortment of jobs, some of them even with pay! We got our absentee ballots sent to Florida, Express Mail, so they should be in the hands of the Supervisor of Elections by Tuesday. Now, if Ms. Dent there doesn't smell Democrat on them and hide them, we'll have had our say. Judging from how she managed the last election ("lost" 18000 votes from the more Democratic area of Sarasota County!) that's not a sure thing. But we do what we can.
Time to sort out Sequester and rinse out some of the salt. More soon. Ted
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
October 25, 2008
A week in Wotje
Karen and I have been taking it pretty easy since we arrived here. We've spent quite a lot of time reading, a bit swimming, and some on what the locals call "jahmbo". Jahmbo is taking a trip or a walk, a ride in a car or a boat, just to have a look around, with no specific purpose. Wotje is big enough, and has enough history that it will take several days of casual walking to see what the place is about.
I had mentioned that one student was concerned about our swimming because he belives there are dangerous sharks in the logoon. We asked, and the mayor assured us the sharks were only small, indicating about the size of his forearm. I finally did see one a couple days ago, as we drifted over a big coral plateau. It was probably a little over a meter long,, weighed about half what I do, and showed no inclination to hang around when we arrived. John Thurston described a similar situation in Kiribati, saying, "Sharks here are food for people. It makes them shy." So we're enjoying the clear water and abundant fish. Also found a sunken boat, probably another war relic, rusting away on the bottom near where we're anchored.
I say "another" war relic because the island is littered with what the Japanese left when the Americans took Wotje from them in WW2. The first things to catch my eye as we wandered into town was the enormous expanse of cement. This must have been a sizeable airfield and naval facility. Looking among the coconut and pandanus trees, we started to see many reinforced concrete structures. The beaches are lined with pillboxes, gun emplacements, and the remains of a small gauge railway that ran the length of the lagoon side of the island. Enormous, rusted storage tanks still stand where they once held fuel and water for the shipping and the technicians and soldiers based here. And then we started to see the airplane engines. There are dozens of big radial engines, with propellors still attached, scattered around the island. Some of the props have the sweeping, twisted shape that could only have happened when the plane was flown into the ground. There are ammunition rounds of every size lying around, and the walls of the bunkers are pocked and holed, evidence of the fierce aerial strafing American pilots delivered in 1944 to take control of this stepping stone to Japan. Here is another place where many, many people had their lives shortened and destroyed by the greed, arrogance and stupidity that led to war. Recent history indicates little progress with the aggression issue since then by the human race as a group. I conclude that the exploding population continues to increase competition for the available resources, and the beat goes on. Until we master birth control, the fighting will continue. If we DO control population density.....maybe the fighting will continue anyway.
We've visited several times now with the mayor of Wotje. Lakjon was born here 57 years ago, but his mother came from Ailuk, so we have common aquaintances and interests there. He is still interested in the Marshallese sailing outriggers, and is encouraging Wotje men to get into them for fun and profit. They recently ran out of fuel for the outboard motors here, and fishing stopped for 2 weeks, until a ship arrived. The diet change may have made an impression. The last ship to arrive brought two outriggers from Ailuk, to a couple of the Ailuk studehnts at the high school. And the mayor sent us over to visit a local man who is nearing completion of an 18 foot tibnol. He had built a couple of them when he was younger, and is now thinking it would be wise to have one again. Wotje is in more ways than one a step between Ailuk and Majuro. They have electricity and cell phones, and sometimes they have an internet connection to the high school. When the Air Marshall Islands planes work, they fly here once a week, but you can't count on that. When the copra ships work, they come in each month, but last year it was half that often. The people of Wotje are learning that trusting the government and the market to deliver food and consumer goods may well leave them starving. We think they're starting to move back toward self reliance.
We had a couple of informative visits with Foster, the principal of the high school. He spent 5 years in California, and came back to the Marshalls with a certification as a welder. After a few years building storage tanks, he had an industrial accident, which left him less able to climb and work on the scaffolding, so he went to the College of the Marshall Islands for some education courses, and returned to Wotje to teach. The Ministry of Education treated him badly enough that he decided to quit, but went to Majuro to clarify to his immediate superior that his treatment was unacceptable. Meaning that after being insulted and blown off by the man in question, he went to the MOE and dragged the man out of his chair, assuring him that when they got out the door he would break his face. Cooler heads intervened, and the next day Foster was amazed to be asked to take over as principal of the North Islands. He's done a remarkable job, with poor support and limited resources. He never seems to lose his temper any more. He keeps trying to head off bad decisions by the MOE, with very limited success there, but his staff and students seem to offer him nearly unanimous respect and support. Looking at the buildings and resources the MOE has contracted for, one is reminded strongly of the book Catch 22. It borders on insanity. Easy to see why so few Marshallese kids go to college, and why so few of those return to their own communities to work.
Yesterday we met Stacy, who is here to teach elementary students English. She's a London girl, one of a few non-Americans supported by the Worldteach program. Two months into her contract she seems to have adapted quite well to the challenge of this utterly different existence. She admits that her posting is made easier than one of the smaller atoll positions because there are two Dartmouth volunteers teaching at the high school, so on Friday evenings she can speak English with them and be entirely understood. Thinking back to my time supervising workers in Puerto Rico, speaking only Spanish, I remember how exhausting that was. We think a lot of Stacy, and all the overseas volunteer teachers out here. Barring a miraculous translation of thousands of school texts into Marshallese, these teachers are the only hope these island have of developing a domestic force of technical workers and academics. We continue to see education as the key to any hope for a long term future. On the whole, a good week in Wotje. Irish Melody is wrapping up their Ailuk stay, and expects to arrive here on Wednesday. We plan to overlap our stay with theirs by a day, so on Thursday (4 days from now) we'll probably head back to Majuro. We have vast numbers of photos and videos, all installed in shows by Karen, so we'll get some DVDs away in the mail soon. Hopefully some of them can be posted on the web for general viewing. We are certainly not in Kansas! Ted
Karen and I have been taking it pretty easy since we arrived here. We've spent quite a lot of time reading, a bit swimming, and some on what the locals call "jahmbo". Jahmbo is taking a trip or a walk, a ride in a car or a boat, just to have a look around, with no specific purpose. Wotje is big enough, and has enough history that it will take several days of casual walking to see what the place is about.
I had mentioned that one student was concerned about our swimming because he belives there are dangerous sharks in the logoon. We asked, and the mayor assured us the sharks were only small, indicating about the size of his forearm. I finally did see one a couple days ago, as we drifted over a big coral plateau. It was probably a little over a meter long,, weighed about half what I do, and showed no inclination to hang around when we arrived. John Thurston described a similar situation in Kiribati, saying, "Sharks here are food for people. It makes them shy." So we're enjoying the clear water and abundant fish. Also found a sunken boat, probably another war relic, rusting away on the bottom near where we're anchored.
I say "another" war relic because the island is littered with what the Japanese left when the Americans took Wotje from them in WW2. The first things to catch my eye as we wandered into town was the enormous expanse of cement. This must have been a sizeable airfield and naval facility. Looking among the coconut and pandanus trees, we started to see many reinforced concrete structures. The beaches are lined with pillboxes, gun emplacements, and the remains of a small gauge railway that ran the length of the lagoon side of the island. Enormous, rusted storage tanks still stand where they once held fuel and water for the shipping and the technicians and soldiers based here. And then we started to see the airplane engines. There are dozens of big radial engines, with propellors still attached, scattered around the island. Some of the props have the sweeping, twisted shape that could only have happened when the plane was flown into the ground. There are ammunition rounds of every size lying around, and the walls of the bunkers are pocked and holed, evidence of the fierce aerial strafing American pilots delivered in 1944 to take control of this stepping stone to Japan. Here is another place where many, many people had their lives shortened and destroyed by the greed, arrogance and stupidity that led to war. Recent history indicates little progress with the aggression issue since then by the human race as a group. I conclude that the exploding population continues to increase competition for the available resources, and the beat goes on. Until we master birth control, the fighting will continue. If we DO control population density.....maybe the fighting will continue anyway.
We've visited several times now with the mayor of Wotje. Lakjon was born here 57 years ago, but his mother came from Ailuk, so we have common aquaintances and interests there. He is still interested in the Marshallese sailing outriggers, and is encouraging Wotje men to get into them for fun and profit. They recently ran out of fuel for the outboard motors here, and fishing stopped for 2 weeks, until a ship arrived. The diet change may have made an impression. The last ship to arrive brought two outriggers from Ailuk, to a couple of the Ailuk studehnts at the high school. And the mayor sent us over to visit a local man who is nearing completion of an 18 foot tibnol. He had built a couple of them when he was younger, and is now thinking it would be wise to have one again. Wotje is in more ways than one a step between Ailuk and Majuro. They have electricity and cell phones, and sometimes they have an internet connection to the high school. When the Air Marshall Islands planes work, they fly here once a week, but you can't count on that. When the copra ships work, they come in each month, but last year it was half that often. The people of Wotje are learning that trusting the government and the market to deliver food and consumer goods may well leave them starving. We think they're starting to move back toward self reliance.
We had a couple of informative visits with Foster, the principal of the high school. He spent 5 years in California, and came back to the Marshalls with a certification as a welder. After a few years building storage tanks, he had an industrial accident, which left him less able to climb and work on the scaffolding, so he went to the College of the Marshall Islands for some education courses, and returned to Wotje to teach. The Ministry of Education treated him badly enough that he decided to quit, but went to Majuro to clarify to his immediate superior that his treatment was unacceptable. Meaning that after being insulted and blown off by the man in question, he went to the MOE and dragged the man out of his chair, assuring him that when they got out the door he would break his face. Cooler heads intervened, and the next day Foster was amazed to be asked to take over as principal of the North Islands. He's done a remarkable job, with poor support and limited resources. He never seems to lose his temper any more. He keeps trying to head off bad decisions by the MOE, with very limited success there, but his staff and students seem to offer him nearly unanimous respect and support. Looking at the buildings and resources the MOE has contracted for, one is reminded strongly of the book Catch 22. It borders on insanity. Easy to see why so few Marshallese kids go to college, and why so few of those return to their own communities to work.
Yesterday we met Stacy, who is here to teach elementary students English. She's a London girl, one of a few non-Americans supported by the Worldteach program. Two months into her contract she seems to have adapted quite well to the challenge of this utterly different existence. She admits that her posting is made easier than one of the smaller atoll positions because there are two Dartmouth volunteers teaching at the high school, so on Friday evenings she can speak English with them and be entirely understood. Thinking back to my time supervising workers in Puerto Rico, speaking only Spanish, I remember how exhausting that was. We think a lot of Stacy, and all the overseas volunteer teachers out here. Barring a miraculous translation of thousands of school texts into Marshallese, these teachers are the only hope these island have of developing a domestic force of technical workers and academics. We continue to see education as the key to any hope for a long term future. On the whole, a good week in Wotje. Irish Melody is wrapping up their Ailuk stay, and expects to arrive here on Wednesday. We plan to overlap our stay with theirs by a day, so on Thursday (4 days from now) we'll probably head back to Majuro. We have vast numbers of photos and videos, all installed in shows by Karen, so we'll get some DVDs away in the mail soon. Hopefully some of them can be posted on the web for general viewing. We are certainly not in Kansas! Ted
October 17, 2008
Anchor Down in Wotje
Last nights passage from Ailuk to Wotje was pretty interesting, with a full moon, light wind, and no rush. We took it slow to avoid arriving at Wotje in the dark, although even with the cloud cover, the moon was so bright it would be hard to describe last night as dark. Even moving slowly, and with so little wind that there was almost no wind wave pattern, it felt quite rough. The boat would often buck abruptly, or fall in a hole, and continuously pitched quickly from side to side. I had plenty of time to analyze what was going on, and could watch carefully the swell patterns. Swell is a series of long, smooth waves formed a long distance from where it is being seen, usually the result of a powerful, long lasting storm, or an established strong wind pattern, like the trade winds. There is always going to be an easterly swell here, from the trades, but last night I identified a second pattern from the northwest, and another from the southeast. With all those swells merging and crossing, the surface was pretty confused, and I now think that's a normal situation here in the Marshalls. That would explain why all the yachts report rougher than expected passages here. With a normal trade wind blowing, it would take a pretty good eye to pick up all those different swell trains, but anyone can feel them! Then about midnight we ran into a series of small rain squalls. They didn't have a lot of wind in them, but it did change directions pretty quickly, and with the boat only moving at 3 knots, when we were headed by a wind shift, we'd just stop dead in the water. A couple of times I just had to back the rudder against the stop, and wait until the boat drifted backwards. Then it would turn away from the rudder, the sails would fill, and we'd proceed. I was much happier when the squalls drifted away and left us to plod on southeast. Not long after dawn I could see Wotje, and we skirted the east end. By 11:00 we had found the pass on the south side, and with a fortuitous wind shift could sail right into the lagoon. Then we hit some squalls that DID have some wind in them, blowing hard right from the east end, where the town is located. So we spent 3 hours beating up the lagoon with reduced sail, until we got close to the village. The wind gods gave it up, and we sailed into the anchorage moving just about fast enough to be able to steer. The anchorage here is well protected and moderately shallow, with a beautiful sand bottom. We soon had the dinghy in the water, and located the mayor to clear into the atoll. He was most gracious, took our fees and gave us some coconuts to drink, and a couple of nice fish for dinner. He had his son show us to the high school, where we made arrangements for students to pick up the packages their families had sent from Ailuk. This is a bigger island than Ailuk, and we got all the walking we wanted just getting to and from the school, so a cool off swim before dinner was in order. One of the boys from the school mentioned shark activity in the lagoon, so we'll check on that with the locals before we spend a lot of time in the water. For now, we'll catch up on the lost sleep from last night, and see what the dawn brings. Ted
Last nights passage from Ailuk to Wotje was pretty interesting, with a full moon, light wind, and no rush. We took it slow to avoid arriving at Wotje in the dark, although even with the cloud cover, the moon was so bright it would be hard to describe last night as dark. Even moving slowly, and with so little wind that there was almost no wind wave pattern, it felt quite rough. The boat would often buck abruptly, or fall in a hole, and continuously pitched quickly from side to side. I had plenty of time to analyze what was going on, and could watch carefully the swell patterns. Swell is a series of long, smooth waves formed a long distance from where it is being seen, usually the result of a powerful, long lasting storm, or an established strong wind pattern, like the trade winds. There is always going to be an easterly swell here, from the trades, but last night I identified a second pattern from the northwest, and another from the southeast. With all those swells merging and crossing, the surface was pretty confused, and I now think that's a normal situation here in the Marshalls. That would explain why all the yachts report rougher than expected passages here. With a normal trade wind blowing, it would take a pretty good eye to pick up all those different swell trains, but anyone can feel them! Then about midnight we ran into a series of small rain squalls. They didn't have a lot of wind in them, but it did change directions pretty quickly, and with the boat only moving at 3 knots, when we were headed by a wind shift, we'd just stop dead in the water. A couple of times I just had to back the rudder against the stop, and wait until the boat drifted backwards. Then it would turn away from the rudder, the sails would fill, and we'd proceed. I was much happier when the squalls drifted away and left us to plod on southeast. Not long after dawn I could see Wotje, and we skirted the east end. By 11:00 we had found the pass on the south side, and with a fortuitous wind shift could sail right into the lagoon. Then we hit some squalls that DID have some wind in them, blowing hard right from the east end, where the town is located. So we spent 3 hours beating up the lagoon with reduced sail, until we got close to the village. The wind gods gave it up, and we sailed into the anchorage moving just about fast enough to be able to steer. The anchorage here is well protected and moderately shallow, with a beautiful sand bottom. We soon had the dinghy in the water, and located the mayor to clear into the atoll. He was most gracious, took our fees and gave us some coconuts to drink, and a couple of nice fish for dinner. He had his son show us to the high school, where we made arrangements for students to pick up the packages their families had sent from Ailuk. This is a bigger island than Ailuk, and we got all the walking we wanted just getting to and from the school, so a cool off swim before dinner was in order. One of the boys from the school mentioned shark activity in the lagoon, so we'll check on that with the locals before we spend a lot of time in the water. For now, we'll catch up on the lost sleep from last night, and see what the dawn brings. Ted
October 16, 2008
Time to Go
Thursday, the 16th has arrived, and conditions are quite acceptable for an overnight passage to Wotje Atoll. We made our last trip ashore at about 9:00 this morning, and found to our distress that the domino effect had wrought misfortune in the village. Yesterday morning the ship from Majuro came back in to pick up passengers who came up for the funeral, and to load some more copra. while they were loading, a 6 year old girl from one of the visiting families drowned while playing in the lagoon. It was arranged that the ship would make an overnight run to Utrik Atoll to return the bereaved family, then come back to Ailuk to finish loading. Tempo's wife, Jepe was a relative of the girls family, and went along with them , then returned on the ship. With Jepe gone for the night, Tempo ate some fish given to him by another family, and by midnight had to send his daughter for the health worker, as he had food poisoning. When we went to say goodby, we found him bedridden, with an IV drip in his arm, improving a bit, but still unable to stand up. A sad way to see him for our farewell.
Convinced that his sister and the neighbors would be sure Tempo was OK, we made a pass through the village to let people know this was their last chance to send packages to Wotje with us. We assumed most had sent them to their students on the copra ship, but we were wrong. We returned to Sequester with 4 boxes to deliver to the high school in Wotje, and then a few minutes later Linda came by in her dinghy to drop off 4 more who'd missed us before we left the beach. Sometimes the language barrier plus island time can cause problems, but we were glad Linda was there to make a second pass.
Right on schedule we picked up the anchor at 11:00, and headed for the pass, with a light but favorable NE breeze. Because of the time difference between here and the USA, the last presidential election debate was on Armed Forces Radio at 1:00 this afternoon. We were just clear of the pass by then, and tuned in for a listen as we headed south. The sea is relatively smooth, with just a long, regular swell running, and we're easily holding our course for now. Should be just east of Wotje by dawn tomorrow, and with a little luck, be in the anchorage tomorrow night. More soon. Ted
Thursday, the 16th has arrived, and conditions are quite acceptable for an overnight passage to Wotje Atoll. We made our last trip ashore at about 9:00 this morning, and found to our distress that the domino effect had wrought misfortune in the village. Yesterday morning the ship from Majuro came back in to pick up passengers who came up for the funeral, and to load some more copra. while they were loading, a 6 year old girl from one of the visiting families drowned while playing in the lagoon. It was arranged that the ship would make an overnight run to Utrik Atoll to return the bereaved family, then come back to Ailuk to finish loading. Tempo's wife, Jepe was a relative of the girls family, and went along with them , then returned on the ship. With Jepe gone for the night, Tempo ate some fish given to him by another family, and by midnight had to send his daughter for the health worker, as he had food poisoning. When we went to say goodby, we found him bedridden, with an IV drip in his arm, improving a bit, but still unable to stand up. A sad way to see him for our farewell.
Convinced that his sister and the neighbors would be sure Tempo was OK, we made a pass through the village to let people know this was their last chance to send packages to Wotje with us. We assumed most had sent them to their students on the copra ship, but we were wrong. We returned to Sequester with 4 boxes to deliver to the high school in Wotje, and then a few minutes later Linda came by in her dinghy to drop off 4 more who'd missed us before we left the beach. Sometimes the language barrier plus island time can cause problems, but we were glad Linda was there to make a second pass.
Right on schedule we picked up the anchor at 11:00, and headed for the pass, with a light but favorable NE breeze. Because of the time difference between here and the USA, the last presidential election debate was on Armed Forces Radio at 1:00 this afternoon. We were just clear of the pass by then, and tuned in for a listen as we headed south. The sea is relatively smooth, with just a long, regular swell running, and we're easily holding our course for now. Should be just east of Wotje by dawn tomorrow, and with a little luck, be in the anchorage tomorrow night. More soon. Ted
October 13, 2008
Big wind, big party
The past week has been quite a mix of weather, as well as the usual bustle of interaction with the village. Early in the week it rained torrentially, then the wind picked up to the strongest we've seen since we left Majuro. The ship arrived after most of the rain had stopped, and they got the cargo exchange done before the wind got really strong. Any ship arrival is a big deal, but this one was also carrying the body of the mother of the high iroje, effectively the queen's mother. She was extraordinary in several ways, not least that she was 104 years old. The preparations for the funeral were wide ranging, and were interspersed with a going away party for the preacher of the Congregational church. The preacher's diabetes is causing increasing foot infections which can only be dealt with effectively in Majuro. There was a lot of food preparation and late night activity, and after the ship brought some fuel, there were even generators heard running at night. I think they probably needed the electricity so they could turn on a couple of refrigerators to help with the food preparation.
Dave and I continued to do a series of small electrical and engine repairs, but we and the Irish Melody crew also spent a good bit of time on our boats dealing with the vast numbers of photographs we've taken here, and starting to write up and edit journals. We were a bit inclined anyway to be where we could monitor the anchors while it was blowing near 30 knots, but there was no problem with the excellent holding in the sand bottom. After the big wind, it went light and clocked right around in a circle, and that did pose a small problem. As the anchor chains swept a circle, they were almost sure to encounter at least one coral head, and ours did. It required Karen to do a bit of careful maneuvering of the boat, with me standing on the bottom 30 feet down moving the chain off the head, to avoid doing much damage to the staghorn and table corals. Dave and Linda meanwhile ended up picking up their anchor and resetting Irish Melody further out, in deeper water, to get away from the corals. The village relies on the fish that inhabit the coral here, and damaging their hunting grounds would have been most ungracious.
I have spent a bit of time lately, when the night sky was clear, trying to refresh my recognition of stars, and relate that to direction. As I was doing that one night I looked in at the small lights along the beach and realized that we had never been in the village after dark. Last night that was changed, as we were invited to the final funeral dinner ceremony. The speeches commenced about 5:30, and wrapped up just at dusk. Typically for this part of the world, children of all ages were present, and were in no way inhibited from doing what they always do; chasing each other across the ceremonial circle, playing simple games, chattering. The adults made no attempt to get them to act as if they understood the gravity of the ceremony, or to segregate them from the activity. They figure when the children are old enough to understand, they'll take part, but they won't know how if they've never seen it. The crypt was surrounded with a line on posts about 8 feet high, festooned with big balloons. As the speeches finished up, the children all gathered near the crypt, and then the grandson of the deceased (a 50 year old village councilman) started pulling the balloons off and tossing them into the striving mass of children. When all the balloons were gone (and the children with them) the relatives began bringing small bags of fresh coral rubble to the grave. They spread a fresh layer of the gravel-like rubble around the crypt, to symbolize a fresh beginning, and then everyone adjourned to a nearby house to eat.
The speakers at the funeral had seated us next to the mayor, who had returned from Majuro for the occasion. She is a Phillippino lady who has spent her entire adult life married to an Ailuk native, and she has a better command of English than most of the islanders here. Before the speeches Karen and Linda learned quite a bit of local trivia talking to her, while Dave and I spent our time with Kevin, the Worldteach volunteer. As we adjourned a couple of young men collected the chairs from the cemetery and moved them to the house for dinner, duplicating the grouping. Then women circulated among the guests distributing two ni (drinking coconuts) and two heaping plates of food to each. One plate was loaded with fish, chicken, pork and turtle meat, the other was laden with rice, bread, roasted breadfruit, and a leaf wrapped ball of combined breadfruit dough and pandanus paste that had been baked in a smoldering fire. It was far more than anyone could finish. After an hour of dinner party, each family sent a member with a large food container to the serving table. There the servers would fill the container, the amount depending on how many members comprised the family. Emai brought us plastic bags and helped us get our leftovers packed up for the ride back to the boats.
I had spent the afternoon doing some fiberglass and glue work. I'd repaired a cracked sail yard for one of the big canoes, and made and installed the fittings for a sailing rig on Tempo's little outrigger, and I couldn't resist walking past to feel the new parts, and check the glue. All was in order, and Tempo helped me load the tools I'd left ashore into the dinghy. It was flat calm, with the tide so low that a few rocks were above water near the beach. A half moon flooded everything with a subdued light through a thin, high cloud cover. Karen rowed us out past the coral to avoid damaging the outboard on a hard place. We were far too full to just go to sleep, when we got home, so Karen did some more photo show work, and I puttered around and read a book for a couple of hours.
Now it's Sunday morning, with all quiet in the village, and a gentle breeze ruffling the lagoon from the northeast. We're starting to wrap things up here, and will be looking for a favorable breeze on Wednesday, to head for Wotje. We plan to take a pile of packages from local people here to their children at the high school there, and will spend a few days having a look at the school and searching out the many relics left from the Japanese and US occupations of WW2. Then it will be time to sail for Majuro, to restock our diminished food stocks and get geared up for the holiday season with the yacht club and visiting cruisers. Ted
The past week has been quite a mix of weather, as well as the usual bustle of interaction with the village. Early in the week it rained torrentially, then the wind picked up to the strongest we've seen since we left Majuro. The ship arrived after most of the rain had stopped, and they got the cargo exchange done before the wind got really strong. Any ship arrival is a big deal, but this one was also carrying the body of the mother of the high iroje, effectively the queen's mother. She was extraordinary in several ways, not least that she was 104 years old. The preparations for the funeral were wide ranging, and were interspersed with a going away party for the preacher of the Congregational church. The preacher's diabetes is causing increasing foot infections which can only be dealt with effectively in Majuro. There was a lot of food preparation and late night activity, and after the ship brought some fuel, there were even generators heard running at night. I think they probably needed the electricity so they could turn on a couple of refrigerators to help with the food preparation.
Dave and I continued to do a series of small electrical and engine repairs, but we and the Irish Melody crew also spent a good bit of time on our boats dealing with the vast numbers of photographs we've taken here, and starting to write up and edit journals. We were a bit inclined anyway to be where we could monitor the anchors while it was blowing near 30 knots, but there was no problem with the excellent holding in the sand bottom. After the big wind, it went light and clocked right around in a circle, and that did pose a small problem. As the anchor chains swept a circle, they were almost sure to encounter at least one coral head, and ours did. It required Karen to do a bit of careful maneuvering of the boat, with me standing on the bottom 30 feet down moving the chain off the head, to avoid doing much damage to the staghorn and table corals. Dave and Linda meanwhile ended up picking up their anchor and resetting Irish Melody further out, in deeper water, to get away from the corals. The village relies on the fish that inhabit the coral here, and damaging their hunting grounds would have been most ungracious.
I have spent a bit of time lately, when the night sky was clear, trying to refresh my recognition of stars, and relate that to direction. As I was doing that one night I looked in at the small lights along the beach and realized that we had never been in the village after dark. Last night that was changed, as we were invited to the final funeral dinner ceremony. The speeches commenced about 5:30, and wrapped up just at dusk. Typically for this part of the world, children of all ages were present, and were in no way inhibited from doing what they always do; chasing each other across the ceremonial circle, playing simple games, chattering. The adults made no attempt to get them to act as if they understood the gravity of the ceremony, or to segregate them from the activity. They figure when the children are old enough to understand, they'll take part, but they won't know how if they've never seen it. The crypt was surrounded with a line on posts about 8 feet high, festooned with big balloons. As the speeches finished up, the children all gathered near the crypt, and then the grandson of the deceased (a 50 year old village councilman) started pulling the balloons off and tossing them into the striving mass of children. When all the balloons were gone (and the children with them) the relatives began bringing small bags of fresh coral rubble to the grave. They spread a fresh layer of the gravel-like rubble around the crypt, to symbolize a fresh beginning, and then everyone adjourned to a nearby house to eat.
The speakers at the funeral had seated us next to the mayor, who had returned from Majuro for the occasion. She is a Phillippino lady who has spent her entire adult life married to an Ailuk native, and she has a better command of English than most of the islanders here. Before the speeches Karen and Linda learned quite a bit of local trivia talking to her, while Dave and I spent our time with Kevin, the Worldteach volunteer. As we adjourned a couple of young men collected the chairs from the cemetery and moved them to the house for dinner, duplicating the grouping. Then women circulated among the guests distributing two ni (drinking coconuts) and two heaping plates of food to each. One plate was loaded with fish, chicken, pork and turtle meat, the other was laden with rice, bread, roasted breadfruit, and a leaf wrapped ball of combined breadfruit dough and pandanus paste that had been baked in a smoldering fire. It was far more than anyone could finish. After an hour of dinner party, each family sent a member with a large food container to the serving table. There the servers would fill the container, the amount depending on how many members comprised the family. Emai brought us plastic bags and helped us get our leftovers packed up for the ride back to the boats.
I had spent the afternoon doing some fiberglass and glue work. I'd repaired a cracked sail yard for one of the big canoes, and made and installed the fittings for a sailing rig on Tempo's little outrigger, and I couldn't resist walking past to feel the new parts, and check the glue. All was in order, and Tempo helped me load the tools I'd left ashore into the dinghy. It was flat calm, with the tide so low that a few rocks were above water near the beach. A half moon flooded everything with a subdued light through a thin, high cloud cover. Karen rowed us out past the coral to avoid damaging the outboard on a hard place. We were far too full to just go to sleep, when we got home, so Karen did some more photo show work, and I puttered around and read a book for a couple of hours.
Now it's Sunday morning, with all quiet in the village, and a gentle breeze ruffling the lagoon from the northeast. We're starting to wrap things up here, and will be looking for a favorable breeze on Wednesday, to head for Wotje. We plan to take a pile of packages from local people here to their children at the high school there, and will spend a few days having a look at the school and searching out the many relics left from the Japanese and US occupations of WW2. Then it will be time to sail for Majuro, to restock our diminished food stocks and get geared up for the holiday season with the yacht club and visiting cruisers. Ted
October 6, 2008
Luck and skill
This morning early we heard an outboard motor! It turned out that Emai had put the Honda on his skiff, and drove out to show us that it was running. What he failed to notice was that as the motor was running, so was the gasoline.....flowing down the carbs, pooling in the cowling, and pouring out behind. Fortunately the spark plug wires are pretty good, no stray spark leaks, so he didn't blow himself off the water. Dave and I towed the skiff back to the beach, and reworked the whole fuel system again. Found some more granular stuff, and another stuck float, and an hour later it ran, leak free. A convergence of luck, skill and persistence. Hope it gets them through the copra loading when the ship comes. With the ship due in 2 days, suddenly 3 outboards have showed up, joining the canoes gathering all the copra from individual storage to the central loading dock. Evidently the ship pays in store credit, and has a store on board where they can spend the copra proceeds. Sounds a lot like the old coal mine with the company store. And by the way, let me clarify my previous explanation of copra pricing. The $20 figure is what's paid for a 100 pound bag of dried meat, which has been cut and dried from roughly a ton of raw coconuts.
Dave and Linda asked Emai to choose an appropriate recipient for their big yellow tarp, and this morning we all went for another cutting session. It's rolled up on Sequester's work station now, ready for Karen to start stitching tomorrow. Emai says he's arranging for a mass canoe sailing photo op on Saturday, so we should see red, yellow, green, blue and white, silver, black, and white sails all together on the lagoon. Should make a neat video, as I expect they'll all be showing off, flying outriggers and throwing spray. It's not boring yet out here in the boondocks. Ted
This morning early we heard an outboard motor! It turned out that Emai had put the Honda on his skiff, and drove out to show us that it was running. What he failed to notice was that as the motor was running, so was the gasoline.....flowing down the carbs, pooling in the cowling, and pouring out behind. Fortunately the spark plug wires are pretty good, no stray spark leaks, so he didn't blow himself off the water. Dave and I towed the skiff back to the beach, and reworked the whole fuel system again. Found some more granular stuff, and another stuck float, and an hour later it ran, leak free. A convergence of luck, skill and persistence. Hope it gets them through the copra loading when the ship comes. With the ship due in 2 days, suddenly 3 outboards have showed up, joining the canoes gathering all the copra from individual storage to the central loading dock. Evidently the ship pays in store credit, and has a store on board where they can spend the copra proceeds. Sounds a lot like the old coal mine with the company store. And by the way, let me clarify my previous explanation of copra pricing. The $20 figure is what's paid for a 100 pound bag of dried meat, which has been cut and dried from roughly a ton of raw coconuts.
Dave and Linda asked Emai to choose an appropriate recipient for their big yellow tarp, and this morning we all went for another cutting session. It's rolled up on Sequester's work station now, ready for Karen to start stitching tomorrow. Emai says he's arranging for a mass canoe sailing photo op on Saturday, so we should see red, yellow, green, blue and white, silver, black, and white sails all together on the lagoon. Should make a neat video, as I expect they'll all be showing off, flying outriggers and throwing spray. It's not boring yet out here in the boondocks. Ted
October 3, 2008
Fortune’s ups and downs After having had quite a run of success with all manner of repairs here, both Dave and I seem to have hit a dry spell. I took a long shot at repairing a TV and video player for Patrick, but couldn't make any improvement. Not surprising to me, since electronics is NOT my strong suit. (Yo, Spike, time to come back up!) Dave checked out Tempo's small inverter, found it positively dangerous, but can't find where the power is leaking to the case. We then both went over to see if we could get a weed eater running for Emai, as they're doing a major island cleanup in preparation for the funeral of Emai's grandmother ( the body is coming from Majuro on the next ship). We tested everything, located a plugged fuel system, corrected that, and then nearly wore out the starter cord. Not even one pop. Nothin' wrong except that it won't work. So Emai had us give his Honda 30 HP outboard a once over, to make sure it's ready to ferry people and cargo to and from the ship next week. When he pulled the cover off it made me want to moan. There's a big epoxy blob on the exhaust manifold because the manifold corroded through and sprayed water all over the motor. The patch has that down to just a dribble. But the salt water bath means everything steel is literally falling apart with rust. The motor is 6 years old, but that's a long time here. It looks like 16. We got it running, after 2 hours of carburetor and spark plug cleaning, but it soon started leaking fuel from the carbs. We suspect there was some crud in the fuel lines that migrated into the carbs, so they need to come off again. It seems like a lot of work for something that probably won't run for more than a few more hours before something critical fails. They have an alternative, a Yamaha 30, but it's a two stroke. Older, simpler technology, but it burns over twice as much fuel, and that's a real issue here. I suspect we'll end up giving them some fuel before this is over. But in the morning we go back for round 2 with the Honda. Wish us luck; we need it. This is beyond expertise!!! Ted
September 30, 2008
Anniversary
We had a great day for our 25th wedding anniversary. We took Sequester out for a lagoon sail with 6 friends: Dave, Linda, Tempo, Polmae, Lloyd and Heinpee. We had a beautiful sunny day with light winds; perfect for sailing. The lagoon is about 14 miles long and between 3 and 6 miles wide, so we had plenty of room to troll for fish. The bottom is about 150 feet deep, with coral bommies sticking up from time to time. You can usually see the lighter colored water around the coral heads, and very often some of the bommies come right to the surface, so you don’t want to hit them with your boat. Most yachties keep well clear of them, but we were looking for fish, and that is where they hang out, so after trolling for awhile with no hits, we started playing “chicken” with the bommies, getting as close as we dared without hitting them. Then we started to get hits on the fishing lines! The guys wanted to bottom fish for awhile, so we found a bommie with a good sand patch and anchored right over it. It was a surreal feeling to be anchored on a coral head in the middle of the lagoon!
Ted and Dave each caught a fish, but the Marshallese guys were pulling them in right and left. Each time Ted or Dave hooked up, there would be lots of yelling and excitement, but the Marshallese guys were so quiet that the cooler had a half a dozen fish in it before we realized they were catching them. Linda and I wanted to take pictures of all the guys with their fish and the Marshallese thought that was pretty funny. Polmae was the master fisherman of the day, working a fishing line with his hands (no rod or reel), and catching them one after another. There was a bit of excitement when he hooked up a 3-4 foot sand shark, but it broke the line before we got it aboard. Most of the fish caught were grouper, about a foot long each. They probably caught 12-15 fish for the day. Linda cooked a great lunch casserole of rice, beef and corn and made some delicious oatmeal cookies for dessert. We had plenty of coconuts for drinking. Linda took some anniversary photos of us, so we will have a nice reminder of the day. We arrived back at the village tired and happy, with fish for dinner. A wonderful anniversary! Karen
We had a great day for our 25th wedding anniversary. We took Sequester out for a lagoon sail with 6 friends: Dave, Linda, Tempo, Polmae, Lloyd and Heinpee. We had a beautiful sunny day with light winds; perfect for sailing. The lagoon is about 14 miles long and between 3 and 6 miles wide, so we had plenty of room to troll for fish. The bottom is about 150 feet deep, with coral bommies sticking up from time to time. You can usually see the lighter colored water around the coral heads, and very often some of the bommies come right to the surface, so you don’t want to hit them with your boat. Most yachties keep well clear of them, but we were looking for fish, and that is where they hang out, so after trolling for awhile with no hits, we started playing “chicken” with the bommies, getting as close as we dared without hitting them. Then we started to get hits on the fishing lines! The guys wanted to bottom fish for awhile, so we found a bommie with a good sand patch and anchored right over it. It was a surreal feeling to be anchored on a coral head in the middle of the lagoon!
Ted and Dave each caught a fish, but the Marshallese guys were pulling them in right and left. Each time Ted or Dave hooked up, there would be lots of yelling and excitement, but the Marshallese guys were so quiet that the cooler had a half a dozen fish in it before we realized they were catching them. Linda and I wanted to take pictures of all the guys with their fish and the Marshallese thought that was pretty funny. Polmae was the master fisherman of the day, working a fishing line with his hands (no rod or reel), and catching them one after another. There was a bit of excitement when he hooked up a 3-4 foot sand shark, but it broke the line before we got it aboard. Most of the fish caught were grouper, about a foot long each. They probably caught 12-15 fish for the day. Linda cooked a great lunch casserole of rice, beef and corn and made some delicious oatmeal cookies for dessert. We had plenty of coconuts for drinking. Linda took some anniversary photos of us, so we will have a nice reminder of the day. We arrived back at the village tired and happy, with fish for dinner. A wonderful anniversary! Karen
September 28, 2008
Atoll Camping
I said not long ago that once people are warm and fed, they seek entertainment. That applies to me as much as anyone, and I would add that one of the great differences among people is what entertains them. A good story, well told, will capture almost anyone's attention. Add the sound effects and visuals of theater or film, and even a lesser story will draw a crowd. But among those of us who grew up surrounded by the high tech entertainment of continuous music and theater at the touch of a switch, there are quite a few who have become jaded with "being entertained". There's an element of human nature that requires involvement, participation, to feel satisfied. Some fill that need with their community, or their jobs, or families. For others, I think that need to take part is a driving force that propels us to take to the sea and travel to the least familiar places on the planet. Being a tourist, flying in for a look around, doesn't entertain us enough. We take the house with us, so we can stay longer, and participate in the places. That was what really made the picnic at Tempo's island fun; we were a part of it, not just observers.
We were part of the excuse Tempo found for moving the family up the atoll to set up house for a couple of days. He was looking for a reason, and we provided it. We made it a bit easier by transporting a lot of the gear (cooking pots, potable water, and a couple of tarps) and people, and spiced that up by giving them a chance to experience a little sailing on the relatively high tech yachts of the modern world. But it was also a chance for the villagers to demonstrate their abilities in providing all their needs from a tiny coral island and a little piece of the sea. They respond to us because we want to not just watch them do things, but get our hands in it. I learned how to make pieces of fairly strong string by simply stripping the outer covering from a palm frond. Cooking is getting easier as we find out how much you don't really have to prepare things before you drop them on a pile of smoldering coconut husks. Fingers actually work quite well for eating most foods, and for liquids, they can be poured from a half coconut shell, or sucked through a straw made from the hollow stem of a local weed. The simple expedient of laying palm fronds on the sand and coral rubble makes it much more comfortable to sit or lay down, and keeps you from being covered with a layer of sand when you get up. Karen started to learn decorative weaving a few months ago, but here she's learned to make plates, mats and utility baskets in a few minutes from palm fronds. When I taught the course in English for Marshallese teachers, one of the books we found at the Ministry of Education was "Micronesia; a guide through the centuries". It's a history of the region compiled by scholars from the Pacific islands, and is a real eye opener about the effect of blending Euro-American culture with that of the Polynesians and Melanesians. As we put together the camp site on Friday, I recalled that the first contacts between the two worlds were made by whalers and traders looking for a supply and repair stop on the long passage from the American coast to the Far East. For a long time, the premier trade item the islanders wanted was metal implements. It turned out to be a huge price they paid for steel, as the contact followed the pattern of European intercourse with America; the indiginous people died in droves of the diseases that had evolved among the herdsmen and farmers of Eurasia. But watching the modern Marshallese work, its plain why they wanted metal knives. A big, razor sharp knife seems like an extension of the arm of almost any islander we've visited in the Pacific. Cutting and trimming palm fronds, nuts, pandanus, breadfruit, fish.....all of these are a hundred times easier with a machete than they would have been with a stone knife. Fishing got a lot easier with the advent of barbed steel hooks and long, thin string. Hunting of octopus and lobster is a lot easier with a metal tipped pole spear than with a fire hardened stick. Since the dive mask and fins became available, the hunting grounds have opened up by a factor of ten. And the introduction of battery powered light, both room lighting and flashlights, has extended the usable day. Now that the survivors of the first cultural contact have all acquired immunity to our common diseases, and subsistence is easier than it was 300 years ago, the population is expanding too fast. Even on these remote atolls the pressure on the environment is starting to show. Which explains why there is such a high emigration rate from the Marshalls overall, and from the outer atolls in particular. During the dry season especially, it becomes apparent that not all of them can stay, and birth control hasn't gained much popularity here. We found that there's a large concentration of Marshallese near Fort Smith, Arkansas. The other day I visited the school principal, and among other things he showed me his SSB radio. A couple of nights a week he talks to the group in Arkansas on 8.145 KHz. It makes it a lot easier to move 6000 miles away if a fairly inexpensive radio means you can still talk to home. How they chose Arkansas, as far from the ocean as you can get, must be an interesting little story. I'll have to ask about that. There's always more to learn. Ted
I said not long ago that once people are warm and fed, they seek entertainment. That applies to me as much as anyone, and I would add that one of the great differences among people is what entertains them. A good story, well told, will capture almost anyone's attention. Add the sound effects and visuals of theater or film, and even a lesser story will draw a crowd. But among those of us who grew up surrounded by the high tech entertainment of continuous music and theater at the touch of a switch, there are quite a few who have become jaded with "being entertained". There's an element of human nature that requires involvement, participation, to feel satisfied. Some fill that need with their community, or their jobs, or families. For others, I think that need to take part is a driving force that propels us to take to the sea and travel to the least familiar places on the planet. Being a tourist, flying in for a look around, doesn't entertain us enough. We take the house with us, so we can stay longer, and participate in the places. That was what really made the picnic at Tempo's island fun; we were a part of it, not just observers.
We were part of the excuse Tempo found for moving the family up the atoll to set up house for a couple of days. He was looking for a reason, and we provided it. We made it a bit easier by transporting a lot of the gear (cooking pots, potable water, and a couple of tarps) and people, and spiced that up by giving them a chance to experience a little sailing on the relatively high tech yachts of the modern world. But it was also a chance for the villagers to demonstrate their abilities in providing all their needs from a tiny coral island and a little piece of the sea. They respond to us because we want to not just watch them do things, but get our hands in it. I learned how to make pieces of fairly strong string by simply stripping the outer covering from a palm frond. Cooking is getting easier as we find out how much you don't really have to prepare things before you drop them on a pile of smoldering coconut husks. Fingers actually work quite well for eating most foods, and for liquids, they can be poured from a half coconut shell, or sucked through a straw made from the hollow stem of a local weed. The simple expedient of laying palm fronds on the sand and coral rubble makes it much more comfortable to sit or lay down, and keeps you from being covered with a layer of sand when you get up. Karen started to learn decorative weaving a few months ago, but here she's learned to make plates, mats and utility baskets in a few minutes from palm fronds. When I taught the course in English for Marshallese teachers, one of the books we found at the Ministry of Education was "Micronesia; a guide through the centuries". It's a history of the region compiled by scholars from the Pacific islands, and is a real eye opener about the effect of blending Euro-American culture with that of the Polynesians and Melanesians. As we put together the camp site on Friday, I recalled that the first contacts between the two worlds were made by whalers and traders looking for a supply and repair stop on the long passage from the American coast to the Far East. For a long time, the premier trade item the islanders wanted was metal implements. It turned out to be a huge price they paid for steel, as the contact followed the pattern of European intercourse with America; the indiginous people died in droves of the diseases that had evolved among the herdsmen and farmers of Eurasia. But watching the modern Marshallese work, its plain why they wanted metal knives. A big, razor sharp knife seems like an extension of the arm of almost any islander we've visited in the Pacific. Cutting and trimming palm fronds, nuts, pandanus, breadfruit, fish.....all of these are a hundred times easier with a machete than they would have been with a stone knife. Fishing got a lot easier with the advent of barbed steel hooks and long, thin string. Hunting of octopus and lobster is a lot easier with a metal tipped pole spear than with a fire hardened stick. Since the dive mask and fins became available, the hunting grounds have opened up by a factor of ten. And the introduction of battery powered light, both room lighting and flashlights, has extended the usable day. Now that the survivors of the first cultural contact have all acquired immunity to our common diseases, and subsistence is easier than it was 300 years ago, the population is expanding too fast. Even on these remote atolls the pressure on the environment is starting to show. Which explains why there is such a high emigration rate from the Marshalls overall, and from the outer atolls in particular. During the dry season especially, it becomes apparent that not all of them can stay, and birth control hasn't gained much popularity here. We found that there's a large concentration of Marshallese near Fort Smith, Arkansas. The other day I visited the school principal, and among other things he showed me his SSB radio. A couple of nights a week he talks to the group in Arkansas on 8.145 KHz. It makes it a lot easier to move 6000 miles away if a fairly inexpensive radio means you can still talk to home. How they chose Arkansas, as far from the ocean as you can get, must be an interesting little story. I'll have to ask about that. There's always more to learn. Ted
September 28, 2008
Picnic at Tempo's Island
Our picnic was an outstanding success. Yesterday afternoon we loaded up Irish Melody and Sequester with Tempo's family and sailed a short way up the atoll to his Island. Some of the local canoes sailed up also. We had a crowd of about 30 people. We hauled everyone ashore and the women immediately started preparing food for dinner. Linda and I made food on our yachts and brought it ashore to share. I brought in light sticks to entertain the kids and it kept them occupied until dinner was ready. Ted and Dave played the guitar and fiddle. I had my drum from Rarotonga. We also brought in our ukulele from Aitutaki; in 7 years we hadn't learned to play it, so we picked out a talented young girl who showed an interest and gave it to her. She was very grateful and entertained us with some songs. The tide was very low at the end of the evening, so the local guys helped Ted and Dave carry the dinghies out to the water.
We slept well in the quiet anchorage and this morning went in for breakfast. I made tortillas with butter, honey and cinnamon, and the Marshallese women had made fresh bread and coffee. We were anxious to get a ride on one of the canoes, so Paulme and his crew took us out for an exhilarating sail on his refurbished canoe with his new red sail, made from the tarp that we donated. What a great ride! Some of the local guys were interested in how a yacht sails, so Dave and Ted took them out for a short sail on Irish Melody.
Meantime the women were busy preparing today's meal. They let me help them weave plates and baskets from coconut fronds. It's all biodegradable, so no clean-up! They don't use utensils; they just eat with their fingers. And we discovered that they use a local plant stem that is hollow as a straw for their drinking coconuts. They laid down coconut fronds as mats for us to sit on, and they use the dried coconut husks as fuel for their cooking fires. It was great to be a part of their everyday life and see how they use the natural resources.
After a great meal of fish, chicken, rice, breadfruit, papaya, cucumbers and Linda's great carrot cake, we were all stuffed and ready to call it a day. We sailed the short distance back to the village and everyone went home tired but happy. Karen
Our picnic was an outstanding success. Yesterday afternoon we loaded up Irish Melody and Sequester with Tempo's family and sailed a short way up the atoll to his Island. Some of the local canoes sailed up also. We had a crowd of about 30 people. We hauled everyone ashore and the women immediately started preparing food for dinner. Linda and I made food on our yachts and brought it ashore to share. I brought in light sticks to entertain the kids and it kept them occupied until dinner was ready. Ted and Dave played the guitar and fiddle. I had my drum from Rarotonga. We also brought in our ukulele from Aitutaki; in 7 years we hadn't learned to play it, so we picked out a talented young girl who showed an interest and gave it to her. She was very grateful and entertained us with some songs. The tide was very low at the end of the evening, so the local guys helped Ted and Dave carry the dinghies out to the water.
We slept well in the quiet anchorage and this morning went in for breakfast. I made tortillas with butter, honey and cinnamon, and the Marshallese women had made fresh bread and coffee. We were anxious to get a ride on one of the canoes, so Paulme and his crew took us out for an exhilarating sail on his refurbished canoe with his new red sail, made from the tarp that we donated. What a great ride! Some of the local guys were interested in how a yacht sails, so Dave and Ted took them out for a short sail on Irish Melody.
Meantime the women were busy preparing today's meal. They let me help them weave plates and baskets from coconut fronds. It's all biodegradable, so no clean-up! They don't use utensils; they just eat with their fingers. And we discovered that they use a local plant stem that is hollow as a straw for their drinking coconuts. They laid down coconut fronds as mats for us to sit on, and they use the dried coconut husks as fuel for their cooking fires. It was great to be a part of their everyday life and see how they use the natural resources.
After a great meal of fish, chicken, rice, breadfruit, papaya, cucumbers and Linda's great carrot cake, we were all stuffed and ready to call it a day. We sailed the short distance back to the village and everyone went home tired but happy. Karen
September 26, 2008
Weekend Retreat from Ailuk VillageIt seems that regardless of the relative size of a community, people like a little change on the weekend. Yesterday we loaded two families up on Sequester and Irish Melody, and sailed about 3 miles north up the lagoon to an island belonging to Tempo. He has a little camp house here, and we got set up with cook fires and some battery powered lights before dark. Dave brought his fiddle, I had my guitar, and we gave a ukelele to Tempo's daughter, so there was a scattering of music around the site until dinner was cooked, at about 8:30. The rain that had soaked the atoll for 2 days had dissipated, and we had a crystal clear star dome over us, with no moon. Hard to see what we were eating, but a beautiful sight. Time for breakfast now, and hopefully a day sailing the local outriggers. More soon. Ted
September 23, 2008
Ailuk Capitalism
I've been listening to the news on the HF radio, as the world economic system staggers under the imbalance of vast wealth inequities. For years the powers in the economic sector have told us that only unrestricted opportunity to accumulate material wealth will motivate people to be productive, that government regulation is the enemy of improvement. I never determined whether these experts were deluded, or brazen liars, but I was convinced they weren't right. So, we pretty much opted out of the world economic race, and now we're here, at a remote atoll community on our home made boat, built from cheap plywood, surplus and discarded materials, and our sweat. I've been studying the local economy. It's interesting.
The potential for economic advancement is a bit limited when the most available job is harvesting copra. Copra is dried coconut meat, valued mainly for its oil content. Coconut oil has been rising in value as biofuels become market commodities, and as growing population absorbs more of everything food related. The price to the gatherers is up to about $20 per ton now. It takes a while to open, dry and clean a ton of coconut meat. That process takes place on the many, tiny uninhabited motus along the atoll reef, and the copra is brought back to the village for storage using plywood outrigger canoes driven by sails made from cheap plastic tarps. That keeps the overhead under control, and incidentally provides a proud identity for the villagers of Ailuk. They are among the last people in the Pacific using the native design outriggers for daily working transport, and they are masters at building and sailing them.
Evidently when the Japanese controlled these atolls, in the 1930s and 40s they destroyed the native outrigger canoes, so they could control traffic among the islands. When the American military gained control of the Marshalls, they provided power boats and fuel to get the economy moving. Ailuk had the good fortune to be far enough away from the central bases of Majuro and Kwajelein that they weren't provided with the bounty of military surplus. They had to make a shift to modern materials for their boats, since the big logs traditionally used were all gone after the war. But they retained the skills and knowlege to shape and sail the vessels. And parallel to the way many American teenaged boys identify themselves with their cars, Ailuk men identify themselves with how well they build and sail their "tibnol". A tibnol will take someone fishing, or hunting for food on the outer islands, or can carry the copra that will provide whatever cash income can be made. Besides that, it's just plain fun to tear along the lagoon with the trade wind in the sail and the spray rising in a rooster tail from the stern. watching the reef and islands spool past at 20 miles an hour.
So, these islanders have a life very different from those with a regular supply of manufactured goods. The income from copra won't really feed a family on imported foods, so they have retained their hunter/gatherer/agricultural subsistence economy. Copra money goes for plywood and paint, glue and rope. A recent change has been creeping in, though. Electronics have become cheap enough that even copra gatherers can put together enough to buy a CD player, or a DVD player. And once people are fed and warm, they crave entertainment. We find generators, solar panels, batteries, and a wide array of music and video equipment in every little atoll and village. And now choices must be made. 5 tons of copra will get a DVD player, or enough tarp and string to make a new sail. Since the crabclaw sails they use are incredibly tolerant of holes and stretch, they are pushing them until they are rags and tatters, and spending the cash on entertainment. It has been proposed that we are encouraging this poor choice when we bring them new tarps and help them stitch up new sails, but we figure we owe them something for providing the hospitality of their villages and the experience of their spectacular sailing. We think maybe the market has undervalued their work.
Last year the yachts Watea, Holokai, Irish Melody, Nomad, and Ke Ama visited here, and Jan and Trevor turned Watea into a sail loft, stitching up several new sails from tarps and old sails we had sent from Majuro. The sails made from a canary yellow tarp were so distinctive, and provided so much value for the $45 price, that Karen and I brought two tarps with us when we came up. The tarps we could get are red, and the first was made into a sail yesterday. It went to Paulme River, one of the best builders in the village, and he and his friends spent virtually the whole night hand stitching the edges to the two spars of the crabclaw rig. Not long after dawn we saw his tibnol being set up on the beach. In the subsequent sea trials around the lagoon, Paulme outsailed every other vessel, until he went back to the beach and loaded the whole family. They boarded with a couple of drums and a ukelele, and whatever they wanted to keep dry, they hung up in the rigging. It was quite a sight.....and sound, when they came up the lagoon, singing and yelling. The addition of an extra half ton of people meant that they could no longer outrun the other village boats, but that didn't dampen their spirits much. We're getting a lot of entertainment value out of our money and the 4 hours of machine sewing Karen did yesterday to make the basic shape for them.
Aside from the show, we're getting fed pretty well for doing these little jobs. Yesterday we got fish, chicken, two kinds of breadfruit, rice, and a dozen ni (young drinking coconuts) delivered to Sequester. These folks aren't looking for handouts. The cruisers we talk to all agree, it's difficult to outgive polynesian islanders. When it comes to trading for electronics, many of them can't really conceive of the cash value of CD and DVD players, and ask us to trade one for a few lobsters. Then again. maybe we aren't valuing just right either. A lobster dinner at a restaurant can sure cost as much as a low end CD player. In any case, if we don't do the trade there are no hard feelings, and they continue to make sure we feel welcome. The only real frustration here is that we speak only a few words of Marshallese, and most of the villagers have a similar grasp of English, so there's a lot of sign language and not much philosophical depth in most of our conversations. The school teachers and a couple of the village elders with good English do their best to make up for this, and so far we're pretty pleased to be here. Ted
I've been listening to the news on the HF radio, as the world economic system staggers under the imbalance of vast wealth inequities. For years the powers in the economic sector have told us that only unrestricted opportunity to accumulate material wealth will motivate people to be productive, that government regulation is the enemy of improvement. I never determined whether these experts were deluded, or brazen liars, but I was convinced they weren't right. So, we pretty much opted out of the world economic race, and now we're here, at a remote atoll community on our home made boat, built from cheap plywood, surplus and discarded materials, and our sweat. I've been studying the local economy. It's interesting.
The potential for economic advancement is a bit limited when the most available job is harvesting copra. Copra is dried coconut meat, valued mainly for its oil content. Coconut oil has been rising in value as biofuels become market commodities, and as growing population absorbs more of everything food related. The price to the gatherers is up to about $20 per ton now. It takes a while to open, dry and clean a ton of coconut meat. That process takes place on the many, tiny uninhabited motus along the atoll reef, and the copra is brought back to the village for storage using plywood outrigger canoes driven by sails made from cheap plastic tarps. That keeps the overhead under control, and incidentally provides a proud identity for the villagers of Ailuk. They are among the last people in the Pacific using the native design outriggers for daily working transport, and they are masters at building and sailing them.
Evidently when the Japanese controlled these atolls, in the 1930s and 40s they destroyed the native outrigger canoes, so they could control traffic among the islands. When the American military gained control of the Marshalls, they provided power boats and fuel to get the economy moving. Ailuk had the good fortune to be far enough away from the central bases of Majuro and Kwajelein that they weren't provided with the bounty of military surplus. They had to make a shift to modern materials for their boats, since the big logs traditionally used were all gone after the war. But they retained the skills and knowlege to shape and sail the vessels. And parallel to the way many American teenaged boys identify themselves with their cars, Ailuk men identify themselves with how well they build and sail their "tibnol". A tibnol will take someone fishing, or hunting for food on the outer islands, or can carry the copra that will provide whatever cash income can be made. Besides that, it's just plain fun to tear along the lagoon with the trade wind in the sail and the spray rising in a rooster tail from the stern. watching the reef and islands spool past at 20 miles an hour.
So, these islanders have a life very different from those with a regular supply of manufactured goods. The income from copra won't really feed a family on imported foods, so they have retained their hunter/gatherer/agricultural subsistence economy. Copra money goes for plywood and paint, glue and rope. A recent change has been creeping in, though. Electronics have become cheap enough that even copra gatherers can put together enough to buy a CD player, or a DVD player. And once people are fed and warm, they crave entertainment. We find generators, solar panels, batteries, and a wide array of music and video equipment in every little atoll and village. And now choices must be made. 5 tons of copra will get a DVD player, or enough tarp and string to make a new sail. Since the crabclaw sails they use are incredibly tolerant of holes and stretch, they are pushing them until they are rags and tatters, and spending the cash on entertainment. It has been proposed that we are encouraging this poor choice when we bring them new tarps and help them stitch up new sails, but we figure we owe them something for providing the hospitality of their villages and the experience of their spectacular sailing. We think maybe the market has undervalued their work.
Last year the yachts Watea, Holokai, Irish Melody, Nomad, and Ke Ama visited here, and Jan and Trevor turned Watea into a sail loft, stitching up several new sails from tarps and old sails we had sent from Majuro. The sails made from a canary yellow tarp were so distinctive, and provided so much value for the $45 price, that Karen and I brought two tarps with us when we came up. The tarps we could get are red, and the first was made into a sail yesterday. It went to Paulme River, one of the best builders in the village, and he and his friends spent virtually the whole night hand stitching the edges to the two spars of the crabclaw rig. Not long after dawn we saw his tibnol being set up on the beach. In the subsequent sea trials around the lagoon, Paulme outsailed every other vessel, until he went back to the beach and loaded the whole family. They boarded with a couple of drums and a ukelele, and whatever they wanted to keep dry, they hung up in the rigging. It was quite a sight.....and sound, when they came up the lagoon, singing and yelling. The addition of an extra half ton of people meant that they could no longer outrun the other village boats, but that didn't dampen their spirits much. We're getting a lot of entertainment value out of our money and the 4 hours of machine sewing Karen did yesterday to make the basic shape for them.
Aside from the show, we're getting fed pretty well for doing these little jobs. Yesterday we got fish, chicken, two kinds of breadfruit, rice, and a dozen ni (young drinking coconuts) delivered to Sequester. These folks aren't looking for handouts. The cruisers we talk to all agree, it's difficult to outgive polynesian islanders. When it comes to trading for electronics, many of them can't really conceive of the cash value of CD and DVD players, and ask us to trade one for a few lobsters. Then again. maybe we aren't valuing just right either. A lobster dinner at a restaurant can sure cost as much as a low end CD player. In any case, if we don't do the trade there are no hard feelings, and they continue to make sure we feel welcome. The only real frustration here is that we speak only a few words of Marshallese, and most of the villagers have a similar grasp of English, so there's a lot of sign language and not much philosophical depth in most of our conversations. The school teachers and a couple of the village elders with good English do their best to make up for this, and so far we're pretty pleased to be here. Ted
September 19, 2008
Birthdays and such
I had a great birthday yesterday. First we went ashore so Ted could install a solar regulator for Tempo’s system. Then we rowed up to the next island and took a long walk on the beach and had a nice snorkel. I invited Tempo and his wife Jepe out to the boat for dinner, and made chocolate pudding for dessert. Ted had told them it was my birthday, so they brought me a few handicrafts and sang to me in English and Marshallese. It was a gorgeous, sunny day in paradise and a birthday I won’t forget.
Today we are anticipating the arrival of Irish Melody, with Dave and Linda. They are bringing Kevin, the English teacher, and the islanders are really looking forward to that. We saw their boat off in the distance on the other side of the reef this morning, but it will take them most of the day to come around the west end to the pass and then sail back down to the anchorage.
I'm feeling fit and happy out here. I'm swimming every day for about an hour, and am starting to row the dinghy out to further snorkeling sites. The locals are feeding us very well. Tempo is keeping us supplied with drinking coconuts, freshly baked bread, coconut toddy, limes and roasted breadfruit. And the other day a couple guys came by the boat with 2 lobsters.
Tempo is the village elder and we really like him. He has fallen in love with Ted's canoe, so Ted has loaned it to him while we are here. You should see him paddling around with a big grin on his face! He is 67 years old and very trim and healthy. He has suggested that next weekend we all go out to their island (4 islands up within the lagoon) for an overnight picnic. We’ll take his clan up on the boats and they will stay ashore for the night. We’ll share food and play music (guitars and Dave’s fiddle). Sounds like a good time. Karen
I had a great birthday yesterday. First we went ashore so Ted could install a solar regulator for Tempo’s system. Then we rowed up to the next island and took a long walk on the beach and had a nice snorkel. I invited Tempo and his wife Jepe out to the boat for dinner, and made chocolate pudding for dessert. Ted had told them it was my birthday, so they brought me a few handicrafts and sang to me in English and Marshallese. It was a gorgeous, sunny day in paradise and a birthday I won’t forget.
Today we are anticipating the arrival of Irish Melody, with Dave and Linda. They are bringing Kevin, the English teacher, and the islanders are really looking forward to that. We saw their boat off in the distance on the other side of the reef this morning, but it will take them most of the day to come around the west end to the pass and then sail back down to the anchorage.
I'm feeling fit and happy out here. I'm swimming every day for about an hour, and am starting to row the dinghy out to further snorkeling sites. The locals are feeding us very well. Tempo is keeping us supplied with drinking coconuts, freshly baked bread, coconut toddy, limes and roasted breadfruit. And the other day a couple guys came by the boat with 2 lobsters.
Tempo is the village elder and we really like him. He has fallen in love with Ted's canoe, so Ted has loaned it to him while we are here. You should see him paddling around with a big grin on his face! He is 67 years old and very trim and healthy. He has suggested that next weekend we all go out to their island (4 islands up within the lagoon) for an overnight picnic. We’ll take his clan up on the boats and they will stay ashore for the night. We’ll share food and play music (guitars and Dave’s fiddle). Sounds like a good time. Karen
September 10, 2008
Paradise
This is it. This is the paradise I’ve been looking for since we started sailing 17 years ago. We’ve been here almost a week and we’re really starting to become part of the community now. Have met a good portion of the people and I’ve made friends with lots of children with balloons and blowing bubbles. We visited the kindergarten today and had a good time teaching the kids their colors in English. They all know how to say “Goodmorning” and “My name is ……”
Ted gathers a crowd whenever he does a repair on a boat or looks at a generator or patches a hole in a teakettle. We’re learning a few words of Marshallese too. I’m bubu (grandmother) and Ted is jimma (grandfather). The most important sentence we know is “I jab melele.” (I don’t understand.)
We brought in 2 large tarps today to make sails for their canoes. We picked out the principal of the school to make one sail for and Tempo (the elder of the village who speaks VERY good English) will pick another person to receive the other sail. They will lay out the shape of the sails and I will do the sewing. The master sailor here is Rice, who won the big canoe races at Ailinglaplap this year. He will probably be the one to lay out the sail shapes. We also brought them a used sail from Wiikirri to make a sail for a small canoe or to repair larger sails, and gave them a bag of used rope from different boats with some blocks to use on their canoes.
We brought in our picture albums today to show them how we built Sequester and showed them a lot of the boats Ted built for Gold Coast Yachts. There were quite a few people gathered around the pictures. Everyone is welcoming and very grateful for everything we do. They keep us loaded up with drinking coconuts, fish and breadfruit chips (yum!)
We’ve been swimming everyday in the gorgeous, warm blue-green water. There are lots of coral heads with beautiful fish.
By the way, we are still in touch with Zac, the 16-year old sailing around the world. He is a few days out of Darwin, Australia and Ted is talking to him now on the radio while I write this. Ted is passing messages from Zac’s parents, who are emailing the yachts in Majuro. They are also on the frequency, but we have better reception with Zac, probably because we are out here away from the city. All is good. Karen
This is it. This is the paradise I’ve been looking for since we started sailing 17 years ago. We’ve been here almost a week and we’re really starting to become part of the community now. Have met a good portion of the people and I’ve made friends with lots of children with balloons and blowing bubbles. We visited the kindergarten today and had a good time teaching the kids their colors in English. They all know how to say “Goodmorning” and “My name is ……”
Ted gathers a crowd whenever he does a repair on a boat or looks at a generator or patches a hole in a teakettle. We’re learning a few words of Marshallese too. I’m bubu (grandmother) and Ted is jimma (grandfather). The most important sentence we know is “I jab melele.” (I don’t understand.)
We brought in 2 large tarps today to make sails for their canoes. We picked out the principal of the school to make one sail for and Tempo (the elder of the village who speaks VERY good English) will pick another person to receive the other sail. They will lay out the shape of the sails and I will do the sewing. The master sailor here is Rice, who won the big canoe races at Ailinglaplap this year. He will probably be the one to lay out the sail shapes. We also brought them a used sail from Wiikirri to make a sail for a small canoe or to repair larger sails, and gave them a bag of used rope from different boats with some blocks to use on their canoes.
We brought in our picture albums today to show them how we built Sequester and showed them a lot of the boats Ted built for Gold Coast Yachts. There were quite a few people gathered around the pictures. Everyone is welcoming and very grateful for everything we do. They keep us loaded up with drinking coconuts, fish and breadfruit chips (yum!)
We’ve been swimming everyday in the gorgeous, warm blue-green water. There are lots of coral heads with beautiful fish.
By the way, we are still in touch with Zac, the 16-year old sailing around the world. He is a few days out of Darwin, Australia and Ted is talking to him now on the radio while I write this. Ted is passing messages from Zac’s parents, who are emailing the yachts in Majuro. They are also on the frequency, but we have better reception with Zac, probably because we are out here away from the city. All is good. Karen
September 6, 2008
Busy Days
We had intended to keep a pretty relaxed pace most of the time away from Majuro, but so far haven't managed it very well. We did get some rest the afternoon we arrived, because we didn't have to rush ashore to clear in with the mayor. The mayor is in Majuro, and the acting mayor saw us come in, borrowed a canoe, and paddled out to see us. He was very relaxed, asked where we came in from, and how the trip was. After a short, pleasant visit, he told us to come see him the next day at his house, and we'd clear up the paperwork.
Mid morning yesterday, after I'd finished my radio schedule we went in and started meeting people. Before we made it to see Emai (the acting mayor) we were called over to visit with his brother in law, Winda, the previous acting mayor. I guess they pass the mayors duties around the members of the village council until the mayor gets back on the copra ship. That will be either 3 months or 6 months, depending on whether the copra company has enough fuel to send the ship this far out. Winda was quite pleased to find out I work on boats, and promptly requested that I make up some oarlock sockets for his small plywood skiff. He says they can't get fuel for the outboard any more, so it needs to be a rowboat. No problem. The project is now under way, and his brother-in- law (another one, not Emai) is shaping a pair of 7 foot oars. Winda and his family shared drinking coconuts, then sent us down to see Emai, where, over more coconuts, we cleared up the entries. We talked about things ranging from previous visitors to agriculture, the state of the water table (very good!) and house construction out here. We were surprised to find that many of the villagers have spent their very hard earned money to build concrete block houses rather than stay with the comfortable, but more maintenance intensive thatched and woven houses. We got a walking tour of the airstrip and new, solar powered terminal building. Unfortunately, the strip is too short, and a bit rough (it's grass over coral rubble) for the two planes now in service (well, sometimes) with Air Marshall Islands, so there's been no arrival since the terminal building was finished last year. But there's a deal under way for the Japanese govt to buy Air Marshalls a suitable aircraft, so by next year, maybe....
Emai accepted our gift bag of flour, sugar and rice, and his wife Litti gave Karen a truly spectacular woven wall hanging. They invited us to come by and eat this afternoon. We forgot to ask what time, but that turned out to be fairly flexible.
When we got back to Sequester we took a short swim, and then were inundated by six 10 year olds in three small versions of the famous Ailuk sailing outriggers. They had been to a nearby island gathering copra (dried coconut meat) and stopped to see the yacht on the way home. They had no lines to tie their canoes to our boat, so I dug out some giveaway rope and got the 4 boys and 2 girls secured and on board. The boys were moderately rowdy, but generally well behaved, while the girls were quite shy. It took a little urging to get them to take a tour of the inside of the boat, but once in, they were all fascinated with the pictures of friends and family we have on the walls. Their English capability was pretty thin, but they pointed and asked until we'd identified most of the people. Karen managed to find out that one of the girls was the daughter of Tempo, who we were carrying a letter for, so we arranged to meet him this morning. Tempo speaks pretty good English, and was quite pleased to receive guests who are friends of Trevor and Jan on S/V Watea. Watea made a lot of good will when they were here last year. By mid-morning we made our way back to see Winda, and I measured up the boat for parts to be made, and had more discussion of what they can grow here. It turns out they have a number of lime trees, which is a real plus both for the vitamin C and for flavor in the food. By noon we had made it to our lunch date with Emai and Litti, and among the small talk I asked about his solar panel system. It turns out he had a problem with one small panel, the regulator, and one of his lights. When we left at about 2:00 I had a bag of parts to work on. In a couple of hours this afternoon I got everything going, and located some wood for the oarlocks. We're not likely to be bored on this little vacation, and that's a good thing. Ted
We had intended to keep a pretty relaxed pace most of the time away from Majuro, but so far haven't managed it very well. We did get some rest the afternoon we arrived, because we didn't have to rush ashore to clear in with the mayor. The mayor is in Majuro, and the acting mayor saw us come in, borrowed a canoe, and paddled out to see us. He was very relaxed, asked where we came in from, and how the trip was. After a short, pleasant visit, he told us to come see him the next day at his house, and we'd clear up the paperwork.
Mid morning yesterday, after I'd finished my radio schedule we went in and started meeting people. Before we made it to see Emai (the acting mayor) we were called over to visit with his brother in law, Winda, the previous acting mayor. I guess they pass the mayors duties around the members of the village council until the mayor gets back on the copra ship. That will be either 3 months or 6 months, depending on whether the copra company has enough fuel to send the ship this far out. Winda was quite pleased to find out I work on boats, and promptly requested that I make up some oarlock sockets for his small plywood skiff. He says they can't get fuel for the outboard any more, so it needs to be a rowboat. No problem. The project is now under way, and his brother-in- law (another one, not Emai) is shaping a pair of 7 foot oars. Winda and his family shared drinking coconuts, then sent us down to see Emai, where, over more coconuts, we cleared up the entries. We talked about things ranging from previous visitors to agriculture, the state of the water table (very good!) and house construction out here. We were surprised to find that many of the villagers have spent their very hard earned money to build concrete block houses rather than stay with the comfortable, but more maintenance intensive thatched and woven houses. We got a walking tour of the airstrip and new, solar powered terminal building. Unfortunately, the strip is too short, and a bit rough (it's grass over coral rubble) for the two planes now in service (well, sometimes) with Air Marshall Islands, so there's been no arrival since the terminal building was finished last year. But there's a deal under way for the Japanese govt to buy Air Marshalls a suitable aircraft, so by next year, maybe....
Emai accepted our gift bag of flour, sugar and rice, and his wife Litti gave Karen a truly spectacular woven wall hanging. They invited us to come by and eat this afternoon. We forgot to ask what time, but that turned out to be fairly flexible.
When we got back to Sequester we took a short swim, and then were inundated by six 10 year olds in three small versions of the famous Ailuk sailing outriggers. They had been to a nearby island gathering copra (dried coconut meat) and stopped to see the yacht on the way home. They had no lines to tie their canoes to our boat, so I dug out some giveaway rope and got the 4 boys and 2 girls secured and on board. The boys were moderately rowdy, but generally well behaved, while the girls were quite shy. It took a little urging to get them to take a tour of the inside of the boat, but once in, they were all fascinated with the pictures of friends and family we have on the walls. Their English capability was pretty thin, but they pointed and asked until we'd identified most of the people. Karen managed to find out that one of the girls was the daughter of Tempo, who we were carrying a letter for, so we arranged to meet him this morning. Tempo speaks pretty good English, and was quite pleased to receive guests who are friends of Trevor and Jan on S/V Watea. Watea made a lot of good will when they were here last year. By mid-morning we made our way back to see Winda, and I measured up the boat for parts to be made, and had more discussion of what they can grow here. It turns out they have a number of lime trees, which is a real plus both for the vitamin C and for flavor in the food. By noon we had made it to our lunch date with Emai and Litti, and among the small talk I asked about his solar panel system. It turns out he had a problem with one small panel, the regulator, and one of his lights. When we left at about 2:00 I had a bag of parts to work on. In a couple of hours this afternoon I got everything going, and located some wood for the oarlocks. We're not likely to be bored on this little vacation, and that's a good thing. Ted
September 4, 2008
Anchor down in Ailuk
Almost exactly 49 hours after we dropped the mooring lines in Majuro, we set the anchor in Ailuk. We intentionally held the speed down for the whole trip, in order to have daylight every time we had to pass close to an atoll. We saw Aur, Maloelap and Wotje as we skirted them. A side advantage was that at 5 knots the boat didn't throw a lot of water around, and we stayed dry in the cockpit. It made the sailing work pretty light, too, since we never raised the mainsail until we were approaching the reef pass here. The staysail and half furled jib were the drive almost the whole way. I guess we burned about a half a liter of fuel motoring through the pass here, as it's dead to windward, and pretty narrow. The water seems to be extraordinarily rough for the wind speed along the whole Marshalls chain, and we had the experience last night of passing over a seamount that got our attention. I woke up from my off watch hearing the hiss and gurgle of the boat surfing and sliding on big, steep waves, and Karen was at the nav station looking at the chart. She'd noticed it suddenly got a lot rougher, with no increase in wind, so came in for a look. The sea floor there rises from 4400 meters to 2400, and deflects a deep current up to the surface. In less than an hour we sailed off the rise area, and it settled back down to a more "normal" lurching and crashing.
It took a couple of approaches to find the pass, which reminded me of how hard it must have been to find the way in before people had good charts and electronics. Sailing down the lagoon required some care as there are a few "bommies" that rise precipitously from the floor depth of 140 feet to just below the surface. We missed them all, and then had the pleasure of using for the first time the windlass for the anchor chain. I bought the windlass in Fiji, but it arrived too late for installation before we left for Tuvalu, Kiribati, and Majuro. In Majuro, I haven't desperately needed it, and have spent days considering the best way to mount it. The boat is not well suited to a standard installation, and I bought this particular type of windlass hoping it would fit where Tim and I had mounted the electric anchor winch during the big push to leave NZ. After considering 3 other options, I reverted to that original plan, unbolted the winch, and found that with a 10 minute modification and addition of a deflector roller, it went right in. Of course, the test comes when we pick the anchor back up, but it sure looks good so far.
I didn't get a lot of sleep last night, so the bed calls. Tomorrow we'll go exploring, and will write more soon. Ted
Almost exactly 49 hours after we dropped the mooring lines in Majuro, we set the anchor in Ailuk. We intentionally held the speed down for the whole trip, in order to have daylight every time we had to pass close to an atoll. We saw Aur, Maloelap and Wotje as we skirted them. A side advantage was that at 5 knots the boat didn't throw a lot of water around, and we stayed dry in the cockpit. It made the sailing work pretty light, too, since we never raised the mainsail until we were approaching the reef pass here. The staysail and half furled jib were the drive almost the whole way. I guess we burned about a half a liter of fuel motoring through the pass here, as it's dead to windward, and pretty narrow. The water seems to be extraordinarily rough for the wind speed along the whole Marshalls chain, and we had the experience last night of passing over a seamount that got our attention. I woke up from my off watch hearing the hiss and gurgle of the boat surfing and sliding on big, steep waves, and Karen was at the nav station looking at the chart. She'd noticed it suddenly got a lot rougher, with no increase in wind, so came in for a look. The sea floor there rises from 4400 meters to 2400, and deflects a deep current up to the surface. In less than an hour we sailed off the rise area, and it settled back down to a more "normal" lurching and crashing.
It took a couple of approaches to find the pass, which reminded me of how hard it must have been to find the way in before people had good charts and electronics. Sailing down the lagoon required some care as there are a few "bommies" that rise precipitously from the floor depth of 140 feet to just below the surface. We missed them all, and then had the pleasure of using for the first time the windlass for the anchor chain. I bought the windlass in Fiji, but it arrived too late for installation before we left for Tuvalu, Kiribati, and Majuro. In Majuro, I haven't desperately needed it, and have spent days considering the best way to mount it. The boat is not well suited to a standard installation, and I bought this particular type of windlass hoping it would fit where Tim and I had mounted the electric anchor winch during the big push to leave NZ. After considering 3 other options, I reverted to that original plan, unbolted the winch, and found that with a 10 minute modification and addition of a deflector roller, it went right in. Of course, the test comes when we pick the anchor back up, but it sure looks good so far.
I didn't get a lot of sleep last night, so the bed calls. Tomorrow we'll go exploring, and will write more soon. Ted
September 2, 2008
Back at SeaWe dropped the mooring at Majuro 24 hours ago, and are now halfway to Ailuk Atoll, also in the Marshall Islands, but 250 miles north of the capital. We,ve been wanting to get away from the developed area, and this should do it. We hear there are almost no motors on Ailuk, and transport of people and goods around the lagoon is via traditional outrigger canoes (albeit with sails made from modern tarp material). We, and Sequester, are out of practice for ocean sailing. I'm patching things up as we go, and making a list to work on while we're in Ailuk. Nobody else's yacht to work on there, just ours and the local canoes. I'm hoping I have a working copy of our send list for these emails. Neglect, plus the computer virus made a shambles of the addresses. Also, I'll try sending direct from sailmail to all. Please remember, if you answer, keep it short, text only, no attachments, and DON'T let anyone else have this address. If a spammer gets the sailmail address, we're dead for the next 6 weeks. My next project now; try to recall how to send sailmail via the radio. Having internet access, however shoddy, spoils me. More soon, probably from the flat water of the Ailuk lagoon. Ted
July 31, 2008
Majuro News
All is well here. We are eagerly anticipating Zac’s arrival. He is the 16 year old who is aiming to be the youngest to solo circumnavigate. Ted is talking to him twice a day; he is only 400 miles out now (from Hawaii). Zac’s father arrives Friday with the support team. Zac will probably get in on Saturday. Zac is a budding photographer and has 3 cameras attached to different places on the boat. They plan to make a documentary of his voyage. He sounds like a nice kid on the radio. Seems very self-sufficient with a good head on his shoulders. The yacht club is planning on supporting his visit and the locals plan to meet him at the pass and sail with him down the lagoon in traditional sailing canoes. Should be a great photo op. If you want to check out Zac’s blog, just Google Zac Sunderland and his links will come up.
Last Saturday we went ashore and saw a bus-load of pale, white, confused-looking young people. The new teachers have arrived!! We welcomed them to Majuro and started talking to a couple of them and immediately enlisted Jack and Evelyn to crew on Sequester next race season. We miss “our girls” terribly and hope to make another wonderful connection with the new teachers.
We’re working on the “to do” list to get Sequester ready for our outer-island experience. We plan to sail up to Ailuk, about 250 miles north of here. That is where they still build and sail the traditional canoes. We will be gone from Majuro for about 2 months (September/October) and may visit some of the surrounding atolls near Ailuk. We’ like to get back here in November, as the next season of cruising boats will be arriving, the races will get underway and there are the holidays to celebrate. We’re expecting about 50 yachts next season. Last year we had 35. Right now there are 12 of us. Majuro is becoming more popular with the cruising fleet, as the anchorage is safe and there are no storms. The American yachts can stay as long as they like and shipping packages back and forth to the States is easy. It will be fun to meet lots of new people. Karen
All is well here. We are eagerly anticipating Zac’s arrival. He is the 16 year old who is aiming to be the youngest to solo circumnavigate. Ted is talking to him twice a day; he is only 400 miles out now (from Hawaii). Zac’s father arrives Friday with the support team. Zac will probably get in on Saturday. Zac is a budding photographer and has 3 cameras attached to different places on the boat. They plan to make a documentary of his voyage. He sounds like a nice kid on the radio. Seems very self-sufficient with a good head on his shoulders. The yacht club is planning on supporting his visit and the locals plan to meet him at the pass and sail with him down the lagoon in traditional sailing canoes. Should be a great photo op. If you want to check out Zac’s blog, just Google Zac Sunderland and his links will come up.
Last Saturday we went ashore and saw a bus-load of pale, white, confused-looking young people. The new teachers have arrived!! We welcomed them to Majuro and started talking to a couple of them and immediately enlisted Jack and Evelyn to crew on Sequester next race season. We miss “our girls” terribly and hope to make another wonderful connection with the new teachers.
We’re working on the “to do” list to get Sequester ready for our outer-island experience. We plan to sail up to Ailuk, about 250 miles north of here. That is where they still build and sail the traditional canoes. We will be gone from Majuro for about 2 months (September/October) and may visit some of the surrounding atolls near Ailuk. We’ like to get back here in November, as the next season of cruising boats will be arriving, the races will get underway and there are the holidays to celebrate. We’re expecting about 50 yachts next season. Last year we had 35. Right now there are 12 of us. Majuro is becoming more popular with the cruising fleet, as the anchorage is safe and there are no storms. The American yachts can stay as long as they like and shipping packages back and forth to the States is easy. It will be fun to meet lots of new people. Karen
July 5, 2008
English Language Ends!!!
Not the language itself, of course. Only the classes I was teaching in English as a second language. We wrapped it up a week ago, in fact, but I had such a backlog of other work that I've had no time to write to my friends until now. The general feeling among those of us who taught was that we'd had a positive effect, and generally made better than fair progress for such a short time exposure. Most of us ended up using pretty similar techniques and lessons, some shared as we compared notes and others just arrived at independently. In any case, the student/teachers were all very appreciative, and in the Marshallese way, embarrassed us with gifts and flattery. My class requested that I bring Karen with me for the last day, so they could meet her. As transparent as that should have been, I was entirely unprepared for the party they threw for us at lunch time. They brought in some food, and shared it around, so we were sitting in the classroom when they gathered up by the door, produced a ukelele, and broke into a beautiful harmonic island song. It progressed from there to each class member coming up and presenting one of us with a piece of island handicraft. We were loaded up with necklaces, carvings, earrings and a wut (woven flower and shell headdress) for Karen, and a model canoe for me (to insure that we could return in spirit to the island). Then they started to dance, pulled us out of our chairs, and took turns dancing with us. They made little speeches of appreciation. They made me sing a song for them. They made us want to cry. They don't have a lot of disposable income, so the gifts were of special value.
Following that, we felt that we instructors would have taught the course for free, if we didn't need to work to eat. None the less, we'd been promised $1900 for the month, and we'd all budgeted for that. The program administrator invited all the instructors to a local restaurant for a "debrief", to hand in lesson plans and discuss ways to improve this program in particular and the education system in general. As we wrapped up the discussion, the administrator excused herself to go to another meeting and left a secretary to distribute pay. It turned out to be packets of cash. $1600 each. Hmmm. Some of our number were instantly suspicious of the disappearance of the administrator. Questions were raised with the secretary. She promised to raise the issue with the Minister of Education when he returned from an off island trip. Today we went to the second scheduled appointment at which we were told we'd be paid out. The secretary had gone to a picnic. Hmmm. Can't pin this on the govt running out of funds (which it is) because this program was funded by an NGO, and ran under budget because we all were VERY careful (read; stingy) with materials. The NGO reps are in town now. The ministry surely doesn't want us to raise a stink, so I remain optimistic that it's just typical sloth and chaos that's running true to form. We left a thinly veiled threat taped to the secretary's door. We shall see.
Anyway, the end of classes coincided with the arrival of boxes of parts I needed to help replace most of the rigging on Ursa Minor, so Brian and I have spent many a productive hour on his boat, and it is now near completion. Evenings I've been going out to the industrial end of the atoll, where Warick and Amanda have managed to have a crane lift their yacht, Wiikirri, out of the water. They put her on the reef for a half a day up in Rongelap atoll, and limped back here with the bilge pumps working hard while they sailed slowly and carefully to keep the damaged rudder from tearing the bottom out of the hull. They never even told us on the radio that they had damage, so we weren't even prepped to go help them if they were going down. I think that may be carrying independence a bit too far. But with the yacht blocked up in the PII parking lot, we've been able to seal up and reinforce all the damaged areas, and within a few days she should be ready to float again. We're all relieved that it came out this well.
Matt and Judy, and their grandson Tyler didn't fare as well when they put the yacht Elsewhere on the reef at the south pass to Aur atoll 2 weeks ago. A fast outgoing current pushed them onto a coral outcrop, which damaged the steering on the first strike. With no control, she washed up onto the main reef. Fortunately a large motor vessel (belonging to a multi millionaire Russian media mogul) was in the lagoon, and hearing their mayday call, sent a big dinghy to take them off. Unfortunately, Elsewhere was so high and dry on the coral, with a falling tide and breaking surf, that they could never pull her free, and she soon broke and flooded. Judy and Matt salvaged their inflatable dinghy, two bags of clothes, and the laptop. All else was lost, and today a big tide washed the hull over the reef where it sank in hundreds of feet of water. They transferred to an inter island freight ship, and returned to Majuro via Wotje Atoll. They all retained relatively good spirits, considering, and Tyler learned a good bit about remote atoll living in the few days at Wotje. They are now staying on one of the boats here in the mooring field, and Karen and I plan to take them to Enemmanett on Wednesday for a final snorkel trip before they fly back to California on Saturday. A sad ending for Elsewhere, but at least they have a house, and were partly insured for the boat. These two reef incidents are just more evidence to us that a multihull is the way to go for a cruising boat in these climates. Our boat was far easier to get off the reef than a deep keeled monohull, and even if it had been holed, would never have sunk. It's also less likely to get stranded, because it floats in a lot less water, too. We're still confident that we chose fairly well in what we built.
And speaking of multihulls, the next job on my agenda is a series of repairs to a 45 foot catamaran. It's an ex-charter fleet vessel, owned by a German man and his Taiwanese wife, who are taking an extended break from running their English language school in Taipei. The years and some hard miles are showing on their vessel, so I'll spend a few weeks re-sealing hatches and re-mounting hardware. At the same time I'll be taking several hours a day to work on the list to have Sequester ready for a 300 mile run North to Ailuk Atoll in September. That is where the traditional Pacific proa canoes are still used for virtually all transport and fishing inside the lagoon, and where many of us hope to find the skills and knowlege needed to reintroduce these fast, simple and economical vessels to the other atolls. With fuel rising to near $10 a gallon in those outer islands, nobody gathering copra (dried coconut meat) for a living will be running an outboard motor much any more. Meanwhile, I keep watching the dozen or so enormous fish transport ships that rotate through the Majuro Lagoon, taking the catch from the seiners and longliners here back to Japan, China, and the USA. I'm wondering how much longer they can keep following procedures they adopted to take advantage of the cheap fossil fuel of the last 60 years. They are built such that they must have electricity available all the time. At times they need a great deal of it to run their fish packing equipment, so the generators are huge. A huge diesel generator will soon fail if it's run for hours each night with low load, making the engine run too cool. So when loading ends for the night they turn on deck lights so powerful and numerous that the lagoon is lit up for a mile or so. When does it pay to install a second, small generator so they don't have to burn 200 gallons of fuel a night running lights? Or will it require legislation to force them to do what's best for them in the long run rather than staying with the short view? An interesting little piece of the fuel/carbon issue. So, there remain plenty of bright spots in the daily grind of making a living here in one of the junkyards of the Pacific. There's even a move on now to clean up a lot of the dead ships and cars, since scrap iron is pretty valuable now. It's interesting watching this little economy trying to adapt to the seismic shift in the world of commerce being driven by the double edged energy crisis. They can't do it without outside help. Let's see just how important this place is to which of the big nations! More soon from the edge of the known world. Ted
Not the language itself, of course. Only the classes I was teaching in English as a second language. We wrapped it up a week ago, in fact, but I had such a backlog of other work that I've had no time to write to my friends until now. The general feeling among those of us who taught was that we'd had a positive effect, and generally made better than fair progress for such a short time exposure. Most of us ended up using pretty similar techniques and lessons, some shared as we compared notes and others just arrived at independently. In any case, the student/teachers were all very appreciative, and in the Marshallese way, embarrassed us with gifts and flattery. My class requested that I bring Karen with me for the last day, so they could meet her. As transparent as that should have been, I was entirely unprepared for the party they threw for us at lunch time. They brought in some food, and shared it around, so we were sitting in the classroom when they gathered up by the door, produced a ukelele, and broke into a beautiful harmonic island song. It progressed from there to each class member coming up and presenting one of us with a piece of island handicraft. We were loaded up with necklaces, carvings, earrings and a wut (woven flower and shell headdress) for Karen, and a model canoe for me (to insure that we could return in spirit to the island). Then they started to dance, pulled us out of our chairs, and took turns dancing with us. They made little speeches of appreciation. They made me sing a song for them. They made us want to cry. They don't have a lot of disposable income, so the gifts were of special value.
Following that, we felt that we instructors would have taught the course for free, if we didn't need to work to eat. None the less, we'd been promised $1900 for the month, and we'd all budgeted for that. The program administrator invited all the instructors to a local restaurant for a "debrief", to hand in lesson plans and discuss ways to improve this program in particular and the education system in general. As we wrapped up the discussion, the administrator excused herself to go to another meeting and left a secretary to distribute pay. It turned out to be packets of cash. $1600 each. Hmmm. Some of our number were instantly suspicious of the disappearance of the administrator. Questions were raised with the secretary. She promised to raise the issue with the Minister of Education when he returned from an off island trip. Today we went to the second scheduled appointment at which we were told we'd be paid out. The secretary had gone to a picnic. Hmmm. Can't pin this on the govt running out of funds (which it is) because this program was funded by an NGO, and ran under budget because we all were VERY careful (read; stingy) with materials. The NGO reps are in town now. The ministry surely doesn't want us to raise a stink, so I remain optimistic that it's just typical sloth and chaos that's running true to form. We left a thinly veiled threat taped to the secretary's door. We shall see.
Anyway, the end of classes coincided with the arrival of boxes of parts I needed to help replace most of the rigging on Ursa Minor, so Brian and I have spent many a productive hour on his boat, and it is now near completion. Evenings I've been going out to the industrial end of the atoll, where Warick and Amanda have managed to have a crane lift their yacht, Wiikirri, out of the water. They put her on the reef for a half a day up in Rongelap atoll, and limped back here with the bilge pumps working hard while they sailed slowly and carefully to keep the damaged rudder from tearing the bottom out of the hull. They never even told us on the radio that they had damage, so we weren't even prepped to go help them if they were going down. I think that may be carrying independence a bit too far. But with the yacht blocked up in the PII parking lot, we've been able to seal up and reinforce all the damaged areas, and within a few days she should be ready to float again. We're all relieved that it came out this well.
Matt and Judy, and their grandson Tyler didn't fare as well when they put the yacht Elsewhere on the reef at the south pass to Aur atoll 2 weeks ago. A fast outgoing current pushed them onto a coral outcrop, which damaged the steering on the first strike. With no control, she washed up onto the main reef. Fortunately a large motor vessel (belonging to a multi millionaire Russian media mogul) was in the lagoon, and hearing their mayday call, sent a big dinghy to take them off. Unfortunately, Elsewhere was so high and dry on the coral, with a falling tide and breaking surf, that they could never pull her free, and she soon broke and flooded. Judy and Matt salvaged their inflatable dinghy, two bags of clothes, and the laptop. All else was lost, and today a big tide washed the hull over the reef where it sank in hundreds of feet of water. They transferred to an inter island freight ship, and returned to Majuro via Wotje Atoll. They all retained relatively good spirits, considering, and Tyler learned a good bit about remote atoll living in the few days at Wotje. They are now staying on one of the boats here in the mooring field, and Karen and I plan to take them to Enemmanett on Wednesday for a final snorkel trip before they fly back to California on Saturday. A sad ending for Elsewhere, but at least they have a house, and were partly insured for the boat. These two reef incidents are just more evidence to us that a multihull is the way to go for a cruising boat in these climates. Our boat was far easier to get off the reef than a deep keeled monohull, and even if it had been holed, would never have sunk. It's also less likely to get stranded, because it floats in a lot less water, too. We're still confident that we chose fairly well in what we built.
And speaking of multihulls, the next job on my agenda is a series of repairs to a 45 foot catamaran. It's an ex-charter fleet vessel, owned by a German man and his Taiwanese wife, who are taking an extended break from running their English language school in Taipei. The years and some hard miles are showing on their vessel, so I'll spend a few weeks re-sealing hatches and re-mounting hardware. At the same time I'll be taking several hours a day to work on the list to have Sequester ready for a 300 mile run North to Ailuk Atoll in September. That is where the traditional Pacific proa canoes are still used for virtually all transport and fishing inside the lagoon, and where many of us hope to find the skills and knowlege needed to reintroduce these fast, simple and economical vessels to the other atolls. With fuel rising to near $10 a gallon in those outer islands, nobody gathering copra (dried coconut meat) for a living will be running an outboard motor much any more. Meanwhile, I keep watching the dozen or so enormous fish transport ships that rotate through the Majuro Lagoon, taking the catch from the seiners and longliners here back to Japan, China, and the USA. I'm wondering how much longer they can keep following procedures they adopted to take advantage of the cheap fossil fuel of the last 60 years. They are built such that they must have electricity available all the time. At times they need a great deal of it to run their fish packing equipment, so the generators are huge. A huge diesel generator will soon fail if it's run for hours each night with low load, making the engine run too cool. So when loading ends for the night they turn on deck lights so powerful and numerous that the lagoon is lit up for a mile or so. When does it pay to install a second, small generator so they don't have to burn 200 gallons of fuel a night running lights? Or will it require legislation to force them to do what's best for them in the long run rather than staying with the short view? An interesting little piece of the fuel/carbon issue. So, there remain plenty of bright spots in the daily grind of making a living here in one of the junkyards of the Pacific. There's even a move on now to clean up a lot of the dead ships and cars, since scrap iron is pretty valuable now. It's interesting watching this little economy trying to adapt to the seismic shift in the world of commerce being driven by the double edged energy crisis. They can't do it without outside help. Let's see just how important this place is to which of the big nations! More soon from the edge of the known world. Ted
June 15, 2008
Majuro Teacher Man
The last couple of weeks have been pretty intense for me, largely as a result of my recent association with the Republic of the Marshall Islands Ministry of Education. Those of us accepted to instruct RMI teachers in the remedial English course spent the week before last in training and prep meetings. The initial shock was to hear from the program administrator that there was NO CURRICULUM whatsoever. Previous years’ programs had not produced the desired result, so they'd scrapped the curriculum, had no standard text books (understandable since the teachers to be taught range from 2nd to 6th grade English proficiency) and there was a question as to how much access we might have to copiers. We were encouraged to come up with our own teaching tools, and let them know when we found something that works. Some of us are better equipped with talent and experience than others, to function in such an environment. But we all decided to pull together, share materials and trial exercises immediately, and see if we could produce a result more satisfying than just a paycheck. Tamara, ex-administrator of the Worldteach program, spent a day battling for access to the test scores of last years' participants. I call them participants because the students are all teachers.....a bit confusing. Anyway, Ministry officials were afraid to let her see them because of confidentiality laws, but without them, we couldn't rank participants into more homogeneous groups to assign the 11 classes. In the end, she won, and spent hours ranking them. Then only about 25% of them showed up. We formed the classes blind. It shows. We each have the whole range in our classes.
So, for the last week, we each spent 4 hours a day thinking on our feet to keep everyone engaged, not insult anyone, and come out with a better educated group than we started with. We’ve thought of strategies, scrounged materials, tried things out, and in every break between classes we meet each other to share what seemed productive and what flopped. Most of us have reviewed the grammar we haven't studied for years, then sorted it for what our classes might be able to absorb. I'm keeping individual lessons on each subject pretty short, skipping from grammar to sentence structure to vocabulary to paragraph structure. Early on, I defined "vocabulary", and "structure" for them. That's where we're starting from. They're a good natured group, and moderately well motivated, but culturally timid about speaking out. It took me 4 days and the help of one of the other teachers to start getting a little participation. All of us instructors are still spending a good 4 hours a day after classes trying to figure out what to say the next morning. But we all see some progress. And we're all learning about the RMI education system......well it's not really a SYSTEM....and why it seems to be just a smidge below par.
Meanwhile, fuel has gone well over the $6 a gallon mark, rice has tripled in price in 6 months, and desperate, poverty stricken Marshallese are starting to pilfer gasoline if it's left accessible, so we're careful where we park the dinghy. It's pretty bad when an outboard motor that only holds a quart is a target for the siphon tube. All this notwithstanding, work on Sequester continues apace. With me out of the way a lot of the time, Karen has finally been able to finish making the mainsail cover for the sail we bought a year ago last month. It looks a lot better than the bedsheets and towels we were using to keep the UV rays from rotting away our propulsion. Easier to put on and off, too. Most of my projects are confined to planning and ordering for the next two weeks, but that's productive too. Now it's time to grade notebooks. This missive is dedicated to my sister Betsy, who lives like this ALL the time and still, with help from Tim, managed to raise four (more if you add in the strays they took in) pretty good citizens of the world. Life ain't always easy, but it need not be dull. Ted
The last couple of weeks have been pretty intense for me, largely as a result of my recent association with the Republic of the Marshall Islands Ministry of Education. Those of us accepted to instruct RMI teachers in the remedial English course spent the week before last in training and prep meetings. The initial shock was to hear from the program administrator that there was NO CURRICULUM whatsoever. Previous years’ programs had not produced the desired result, so they'd scrapped the curriculum, had no standard text books (understandable since the teachers to be taught range from 2nd to 6th grade English proficiency) and there was a question as to how much access we might have to copiers. We were encouraged to come up with our own teaching tools, and let them know when we found something that works. Some of us are better equipped with talent and experience than others, to function in such an environment. But we all decided to pull together, share materials and trial exercises immediately, and see if we could produce a result more satisfying than just a paycheck. Tamara, ex-administrator of the Worldteach program, spent a day battling for access to the test scores of last years' participants. I call them participants because the students are all teachers.....a bit confusing. Anyway, Ministry officials were afraid to let her see them because of confidentiality laws, but without them, we couldn't rank participants into more homogeneous groups to assign the 11 classes. In the end, she won, and spent hours ranking them. Then only about 25% of them showed up. We formed the classes blind. It shows. We each have the whole range in our classes.
So, for the last week, we each spent 4 hours a day thinking on our feet to keep everyone engaged, not insult anyone, and come out with a better educated group than we started with. We’ve thought of strategies, scrounged materials, tried things out, and in every break between classes we meet each other to share what seemed productive and what flopped. Most of us have reviewed the grammar we haven't studied for years, then sorted it for what our classes might be able to absorb. I'm keeping individual lessons on each subject pretty short, skipping from grammar to sentence structure to vocabulary to paragraph structure. Early on, I defined "vocabulary", and "structure" for them. That's where we're starting from. They're a good natured group, and moderately well motivated, but culturally timid about speaking out. It took me 4 days and the help of one of the other teachers to start getting a little participation. All of us instructors are still spending a good 4 hours a day after classes trying to figure out what to say the next morning. But we all see some progress. And we're all learning about the RMI education system......well it's not really a SYSTEM....and why it seems to be just a smidge below par.
Meanwhile, fuel has gone well over the $6 a gallon mark, rice has tripled in price in 6 months, and desperate, poverty stricken Marshallese are starting to pilfer gasoline if it's left accessible, so we're careful where we park the dinghy. It's pretty bad when an outboard motor that only holds a quart is a target for the siphon tube. All this notwithstanding, work on Sequester continues apace. With me out of the way a lot of the time, Karen has finally been able to finish making the mainsail cover for the sail we bought a year ago last month. It looks a lot better than the bedsheets and towels we were using to keep the UV rays from rotting away our propulsion. Easier to put on and off, too. Most of my projects are confined to planning and ordering for the next two weeks, but that's productive too. Now it's time to grade notebooks. This missive is dedicated to my sister Betsy, who lives like this ALL the time and still, with help from Tim, managed to raise four (more if you add in the strays they took in) pretty good citizens of the world. Life ain't always easy, but it need not be dull. Ted
June 1, 2008
News from Majuro
We’ve had a busy couple of weeks. More friends have sailed away and “our girls” have flown home. But we had an exciting visit from the trimaran “EarthRace”. This is a New Zealand power boat that is racing around the world using bio-diesel fuel, and hoping to set a new world record. They came into Majuro for 4 hours, to re-fuel and repair some broken parts. They requested help from the yachties in helping them into the dock, as they were running on just one engine. We all got into our dinghies and enjoyed getting them into position. We got a chance to chat with the crew and tour the boat. The visit was highly organized, with bio-fuel at the dock in containers, ready to go aboard, and the shore crew had fresh food to go aboard. One of the crew had a large cut on his foot which needed medical attention, and a doctor was standing by. Ted helped them get fresh water aboard, and Angela from Holokai cooked them up a nice stir-fry for their dinner. They left in good time and are on track for their world record.
Last Friday night we had the First Annual Mooring Ball Art Show Exhibit. We’ve told you how the yacht club is trying to protect the reef by installing moorings in the popular anchorages. Many of us have painted the balls, which have been named after prominent Marshallese people. We had 15 balls on display, with all the artists and the Marshallese who were named, as well as many VIPs. We wanted the community to see the balls before they are installed this week. Turnout was good and we had a judging by all the participants for the favorite balls. I’m delighted to tell you that the one painted by myself, Courtney and Katie came in third! I have a nice picture of me with the ball and it’s namesake Naia, an adorable 2-year old.
The next day we moved the show to the area between the post office and bank to catch the attention of those passing by. Karen (from the yacht Seal) had put together a brilliant power point presentation and had the computer running to show everyone what the project was about. We had hand-outs in English and Marshallese, so hopefully more people will be aware of the benefits of keeping the reef healthy. Ted was chosen to be one of the teachers to teach the outer island teachers English. (I also applied but was not chosen – guess I wasn’t meant to work here!) This program runs every summer to help the Marshallese teachers improve their English skills. Some of them only have 4th grade level English, and this is their one exposure to English during the year. The outer island teachers come to Majuro for the program and stay here for a month. Ted, as well as 4 other cruisers, and some shore people, started their orientation yesterday. In true Marshallese fashion, there is no plan or any materials. The group is running around trying to find books for resources. You’d think the program had never run before. Apparently the director is very defensive and set in her ways. Ted came home shaking his head and said I should feel very lucky I wasn’t chosen. And so it goes. Karen
We’ve had a busy couple of weeks. More friends have sailed away and “our girls” have flown home. But we had an exciting visit from the trimaran “EarthRace”. This is a New Zealand power boat that is racing around the world using bio-diesel fuel, and hoping to set a new world record. They came into Majuro for 4 hours, to re-fuel and repair some broken parts. They requested help from the yachties in helping them into the dock, as they were running on just one engine. We all got into our dinghies and enjoyed getting them into position. We got a chance to chat with the crew and tour the boat. The visit was highly organized, with bio-fuel at the dock in containers, ready to go aboard, and the shore crew had fresh food to go aboard. One of the crew had a large cut on his foot which needed medical attention, and a doctor was standing by. Ted helped them get fresh water aboard, and Angela from Holokai cooked them up a nice stir-fry for their dinner. They left in good time and are on track for their world record.
Last Friday night we had the First Annual Mooring Ball Art Show Exhibit. We’ve told you how the yacht club is trying to protect the reef by installing moorings in the popular anchorages. Many of us have painted the balls, which have been named after prominent Marshallese people. We had 15 balls on display, with all the artists and the Marshallese who were named, as well as many VIPs. We wanted the community to see the balls before they are installed this week. Turnout was good and we had a judging by all the participants for the favorite balls. I’m delighted to tell you that the one painted by myself, Courtney and Katie came in third! I have a nice picture of me with the ball and it’s namesake Naia, an adorable 2-year old.
The next day we moved the show to the area between the post office and bank to catch the attention of those passing by. Karen (from the yacht Seal) had put together a brilliant power point presentation and had the computer running to show everyone what the project was about. We had hand-outs in English and Marshallese, so hopefully more people will be aware of the benefits of keeping the reef healthy. Ted was chosen to be one of the teachers to teach the outer island teachers English. (I also applied but was not chosen – guess I wasn’t meant to work here!) This program runs every summer to help the Marshallese teachers improve their English skills. Some of them only have 4th grade level English, and this is their one exposure to English during the year. The outer island teachers come to Majuro for the program and stay here for a month. Ted, as well as 4 other cruisers, and some shore people, started their orientation yesterday. In true Marshallese fashion, there is no plan or any materials. The group is running around trying to find books for resources. You’d think the program had never run before. Apparently the director is very defensive and set in her ways. Ted came home shaking his head and said I should feel very lucky I wasn’t chosen. And so it goes. Karen
May 31, 2008
Saying Goodbye
We had a fantastic time with the kids on Thursday, sailing to Enemannet for the day. As usual when the girls are aboard, the weather was perfect and we had a beautiful sail, a nice swim, and a lovely lunch on deck. Two of our girls have already flown home to the States, but we had Robbye, Courtney, with her friend Beth Ann, and Ben. I think we’ve mentioned before that Ben is a very talented singer and song writer, and we watched him perform for the last time at the Tide Table on Friday night. We will have our last dinner with the kids on Tuesday night before they fly out on Wednesday.
Meanwhile, we stay very busy with boat projects, ours and others. Ted is currently working on 4 boats, shuffling his time between them. I’ve picked up some sewing work and also have sewing projects for Sequester. We’re not about to get bored anytime soon.
Yesterday it POURED rain, so every jug and bucket on the boat are filled, as well as the canoe. So this morning I will do laundry, providing there is enough sun to dry it.
Next weekend the yacht club will be displaying all the mooring balls that have been painted so far, 15 in all. We will have a small “art show” at the hotel, explaining who each ball was named for and the significance of their contribution to the Marshall Islands. People will get to vote for their favorite design. We will also hand out educational material on the benefits of the reef. The mooring balls will be installed in the next few weeks.There are still about 12 yachts here, and we hear that more yachties are thinking of coming up here next season. So this is getting to be a popular place. We had a new boat come in last week, and we always enjoy getting to know new people, especially after we’ve talked to them on the radio for a few months. Life is good. Karen
We had a fantastic time with the kids on Thursday, sailing to Enemannet for the day. As usual when the girls are aboard, the weather was perfect and we had a beautiful sail, a nice swim, and a lovely lunch on deck. Two of our girls have already flown home to the States, but we had Robbye, Courtney, with her friend Beth Ann, and Ben. I think we’ve mentioned before that Ben is a very talented singer and song writer, and we watched him perform for the last time at the Tide Table on Friday night. We will have our last dinner with the kids on Tuesday night before they fly out on Wednesday.
Meanwhile, we stay very busy with boat projects, ours and others. Ted is currently working on 4 boats, shuffling his time between them. I’ve picked up some sewing work and also have sewing projects for Sequester. We’re not about to get bored anytime soon.
Yesterday it POURED rain, so every jug and bucket on the boat are filled, as well as the canoe. So this morning I will do laundry, providing there is enough sun to dry it.
Next weekend the yacht club will be displaying all the mooring balls that have been painted so far, 15 in all. We will have a small “art show” at the hotel, explaining who each ball was named for and the significance of their contribution to the Marshall Islands. People will get to vote for their favorite design. We will also hand out educational material on the benefits of the reef. The mooring balls will be installed in the next few weeks.There are still about 12 yachts here, and we hear that more yachties are thinking of coming up here next season. So this is getting to be a popular place. We had a new boat come in last week, and we always enjoy getting to know new people, especially after we’ve talked to them on the radio for a few months. Life is good. Karen
May5, 2008
Weekend at Eneko
We had a fantastic weekend with our kids. Three of our girls and four of their (male) friends joined us for a sail down to Eneko. The girls stayed in one of the rented rooms, while the boys strung hammocks between trees and posts for sleeping. The small resort is set up with 3 sleeping rooms and a large shared kitchen building. We first had lunch on Sequester when we arrived, then went swimming, then moved ashore, where we played cards in the shared facilities. The girls cooked a great dinner of tuna steaks, salad and potatoes. I made a cake to celebrate Katie’s birthday. The girls presented us with a beautiful carving of Sequester. It looks like the logo on our boat cards, a simple line drawing looking onto the boat from the front. The girls had Forest carve it out of a black pearl shell. It has already become a prized possession and we will treasure it forever.
Forest is an amazing young man who grew up on a sailing boat. He was born in Fiji and spent 6 years as a child in the Marshall Islands, playing with the local kids. His parents have moved off the boat (which is in North Carolina) and live on an island in a lake in upper state Maine. Forest decided to return to the Marshall Islands for university. He learned how to carve bone and shells as a young boy, competing with his brother to see who was best. He sells his beautiful jewelry to pay for his university education. He is also an avid fisherman, and trolled 3 lines from Sequester on the way up and back, without catching anything (which confirms my believe that the boat is unlucky in catching fish). Forest caught a couple of fish from the beach while we were on the island and cooked them up fresh. Yum! He also made us all waffles for breakfast on Sunday morning. Delicious.
We went for walks on the beach at low tide after breakfast and then when the rain came we retreated indoors to read and paint our mooring ball. We’ve mentioned the mooring project before: the yacht club is putting down a series of boat moorings to save the coral. The committee has decided to name each mooring after a prominent Marshallese person, preferably someone who is keen on environmental matters. Our name was Naia, a 2 year old girl whose name means dolphin. (Not sure how she qualifies, but no matter.) Courtney, Katie and I spent hours painting her name, surrounded by a dolphin and a coral reef, with fish and colorful coral. We were pleased with the results. Meanwhile, Ben made his famous chili to keep our strength up.
All too soon it was time to reload the boat and sail back to the “city”. No one wanted to leave, but all 7 of the kids are teachers, so we had to come back. It takes 3 hours to beat our way back to the mooring from Eneko, but we had a pleasant trip, with the kids sprawled out on deck. Ben got out his guitar and played a few tunes. Arrived home just at dusk, tired and happy. Karen
I thought our arrival back at the mooring was an indication of how much the yachting community here works together. Before we could get our dinghy in the water, Spike from Holokai, Karen from Seal, and Dave and Patricia from Chameleon all came over in their dinghies to offer help delivering the teachers and their gear to the shore. We all enjoy the enthusiasm, intelligence and sociability of the teachers, and I think those of us who will be here for a while are trying to get a little more interaction with the kids before next month. That’s when the teaching year ends, the contracts run out, and the young teachers scatter to the winds, back to grad school, work, or other volunteer positions. Never underestimate the power of Worldteach, Teach for America and such programs. They are the face of the country as seen by millions of the citizens of the world. Ted
We had a fantastic weekend with our kids. Three of our girls and four of their (male) friends joined us for a sail down to Eneko. The girls stayed in one of the rented rooms, while the boys strung hammocks between trees and posts for sleeping. The small resort is set up with 3 sleeping rooms and a large shared kitchen building. We first had lunch on Sequester when we arrived, then went swimming, then moved ashore, where we played cards in the shared facilities. The girls cooked a great dinner of tuna steaks, salad and potatoes. I made a cake to celebrate Katie’s birthday. The girls presented us with a beautiful carving of Sequester. It looks like the logo on our boat cards, a simple line drawing looking onto the boat from the front. The girls had Forest carve it out of a black pearl shell. It has already become a prized possession and we will treasure it forever.
Forest is an amazing young man who grew up on a sailing boat. He was born in Fiji and spent 6 years as a child in the Marshall Islands, playing with the local kids. His parents have moved off the boat (which is in North Carolina) and live on an island in a lake in upper state Maine. Forest decided to return to the Marshall Islands for university. He learned how to carve bone and shells as a young boy, competing with his brother to see who was best. He sells his beautiful jewelry to pay for his university education. He is also an avid fisherman, and trolled 3 lines from Sequester on the way up and back, without catching anything (which confirms my believe that the boat is unlucky in catching fish). Forest caught a couple of fish from the beach while we were on the island and cooked them up fresh. Yum! He also made us all waffles for breakfast on Sunday morning. Delicious.
We went for walks on the beach at low tide after breakfast and then when the rain came we retreated indoors to read and paint our mooring ball. We’ve mentioned the mooring project before: the yacht club is putting down a series of boat moorings to save the coral. The committee has decided to name each mooring after a prominent Marshallese person, preferably someone who is keen on environmental matters. Our name was Naia, a 2 year old girl whose name means dolphin. (Not sure how she qualifies, but no matter.) Courtney, Katie and I spent hours painting her name, surrounded by a dolphin and a coral reef, with fish and colorful coral. We were pleased with the results. Meanwhile, Ben made his famous chili to keep our strength up.
All too soon it was time to reload the boat and sail back to the “city”. No one wanted to leave, but all 7 of the kids are teachers, so we had to come back. It takes 3 hours to beat our way back to the mooring from Eneko, but we had a pleasant trip, with the kids sprawled out on deck. Ben got out his guitar and played a few tunes. Arrived home just at dusk, tired and happy. Karen
I thought our arrival back at the mooring was an indication of how much the yachting community here works together. Before we could get our dinghy in the water, Spike from Holokai, Karen from Seal, and Dave and Patricia from Chameleon all came over in their dinghies to offer help delivering the teachers and their gear to the shore. We all enjoy the enthusiasm, intelligence and sociability of the teachers, and I think those of us who will be here for a while are trying to get a little more interaction with the kids before next month. That’s when the teaching year ends, the contracts run out, and the young teachers scatter to the winds, back to grad school, work, or other volunteer positions. Never underestimate the power of Worldteach, Teach for America and such programs. They are the face of the country as seen by millions of the citizens of the world. Ted
April 21, 2008
Windswept
Last weekend we sailed to Aur for their Liberation Day Festivities. The village of Tabal had invited the yachts to come up to help them celebrate. There were 7 of us in the lagoon (Sequester, Holokai, Waikkirri, Moonbird, Ursa Minor, Chameleon and Hai Yun). Windswept also planned to come up. They tried to get crew, but were unable to, so they sailed up alone.
We arrived in Aur (Tabal village) on Friday morning, having left Thursday at dusk and sailing all night. Windswept had planned to do the same, but didn’t get out of the harbor that night, so left on Friday morning. On Friday evening at 2300 Ted received a VHF call from Richard on Windswept, stating that they were about 5 miles outside the west pass and couldn’t get the engine started. They suspected a fuel pump failure. Richard said they would hang out off the atoll all night and Ted stated that we would find a boat to tow them into the pass in the morning.
The next morning, Bonnie on Moonbird had a very brief VHF contact with Chris on Windswept, maybe 15 seconds. Then Spike on Holokai, Ted, and Dave from Chameleon decided to take Holokai out the west pass to look for Windswept. They spent most of the morning out there, looking with the radar and making many radio calls for Windswept. Nothing was seen or heard. We informed the fleet back in Majuro that we suspected Windswept may have turned around and sailed back there. Bonnie thought to send Windswept an email to tell them to contact us on 8.173 if they could.
The next morning, just at the end of the “Rag of the Air” net, Richard came up and said they were still hanging out west of Aur, now about 45 miles out. They had put out a drogue and had spent most of the 24 hours trying to get the engine going. We set up an hourly schedule on 8.173 and Ken on Moonbird sat by the radio while the rest of us went in to church.
At 1440, just as we returned to the boat, Chris put out a “mayday” call and stated that the mast had just come down. She and Richard were okay, and they were going to try to cut the mast loose, as it was crashing up and down on the boat. Patricia on Chameleon put out a mayday relay, and within 15 minutes stations from New Zealand to Hawaii, including Majuro, had been informed. Ted, Spike and Ken were preparing to go out to Windswept on the MINRA boat, which was in Tabal at the time, having brought up the officials for the Liberation Day ceremonies. They heard from Majuro that the Lomar from Majuro was going to go out. It was a much larger boat, faster, and could tow Windswept if it had to. We maintained an hourly schedule with Windswept on 8.173. Ted and Ken stayed by the radio all night long to talk to Richard and Chris.
The Lomar arrived at dawn on Monday, put 2 engineers aboard, and had the motor running in short order (bled the fuel lines and hand-pumped the fuel from the tank). One of the engineers stayed on board for the ride back to Majuro and had to bleed the system a couple more times en route. They arrived back in Majuro at first light Tuesday morning. They had spent 4 nights at sea.
Richard and Chris are okay, and in remarkably good spirits considering. The headstay pulled out from the deck, just as they were about to set the jib. They were both standing up there next to it, Richard looking down at the base of the jib and Chris looking at the mast. All of a sudden Richard said “the headstay is coming up” and Chris said “the mast is going down”. It all happened in a second, but neither was hurt because they were standing forward of it. The mast landed on the cabin top and was banging up and down. They tied down the base of the mast and the mast then broke in two. They saved the boom and mainsail, and the bottom part of the mast, but lost the jib and the rest of the mast when they pulled the pins to cut her loose. They also lost one wind generator and one solar panel. But Richard had installed an inverted V antenna, so we had radio communication with them throughout.
There was very little damage to the boat from the mast crashing down on it. The cabin top crunched a little and broke the window, but all the living accommodations are intact. Ted has suggested to Richard building a Gougeon wing mast and Richard is very keen to explore that possibility. That would be the cheapest option by far. They still plan to sell the boat, but are in no hurry to do that, as they had already decided that they could live on it here cheaper than living ashore in a house in Hawaii. Plus, they like the community here and have easy access to stores, etc.
You can see a short write-up of the adventure in the latest newspaper. Everything else is fine here. We’ve eliminated the cockroaches from the inside of Irish Melody, but they moved outside, so we are dealing with getting the ones in the cockpit. As soon as I put the roach cookies down they were into it, so I expect I’ll find a lot of dead ones.
Hope all is well with you. Love, Karen
Last weekend we sailed to Aur for their Liberation Day Festivities. The village of Tabal had invited the yachts to come up to help them celebrate. There were 7 of us in the lagoon (Sequester, Holokai, Waikkirri, Moonbird, Ursa Minor, Chameleon and Hai Yun). Windswept also planned to come up. They tried to get crew, but were unable to, so they sailed up alone.
We arrived in Aur (Tabal village) on Friday morning, having left Thursday at dusk and sailing all night. Windswept had planned to do the same, but didn’t get out of the harbor that night, so left on Friday morning. On Friday evening at 2300 Ted received a VHF call from Richard on Windswept, stating that they were about 5 miles outside the west pass and couldn’t get the engine started. They suspected a fuel pump failure. Richard said they would hang out off the atoll all night and Ted stated that we would find a boat to tow them into the pass in the morning.
The next morning, Bonnie on Moonbird had a very brief VHF contact with Chris on Windswept, maybe 15 seconds. Then Spike on Holokai, Ted, and Dave from Chameleon decided to take Holokai out the west pass to look for Windswept. They spent most of the morning out there, looking with the radar and making many radio calls for Windswept. Nothing was seen or heard. We informed the fleet back in Majuro that we suspected Windswept may have turned around and sailed back there. Bonnie thought to send Windswept an email to tell them to contact us on 8.173 if they could.
The next morning, just at the end of the “Rag of the Air” net, Richard came up and said they were still hanging out west of Aur, now about 45 miles out. They had put out a drogue and had spent most of the 24 hours trying to get the engine going. We set up an hourly schedule on 8.173 and Ken on Moonbird sat by the radio while the rest of us went in to church.
At 1440, just as we returned to the boat, Chris put out a “mayday” call and stated that the mast had just come down. She and Richard were okay, and they were going to try to cut the mast loose, as it was crashing up and down on the boat. Patricia on Chameleon put out a mayday relay, and within 15 minutes stations from New Zealand to Hawaii, including Majuro, had been informed. Ted, Spike and Ken were preparing to go out to Windswept on the MINRA boat, which was in Tabal at the time, having brought up the officials for the Liberation Day ceremonies. They heard from Majuro that the Lomar from Majuro was going to go out. It was a much larger boat, faster, and could tow Windswept if it had to. We maintained an hourly schedule with Windswept on 8.173. Ted and Ken stayed by the radio all night long to talk to Richard and Chris.
The Lomar arrived at dawn on Monday, put 2 engineers aboard, and had the motor running in short order (bled the fuel lines and hand-pumped the fuel from the tank). One of the engineers stayed on board for the ride back to Majuro and had to bleed the system a couple more times en route. They arrived back in Majuro at first light Tuesday morning. They had spent 4 nights at sea.
Richard and Chris are okay, and in remarkably good spirits considering. The headstay pulled out from the deck, just as they were about to set the jib. They were both standing up there next to it, Richard looking down at the base of the jib and Chris looking at the mast. All of a sudden Richard said “the headstay is coming up” and Chris said “the mast is going down”. It all happened in a second, but neither was hurt because they were standing forward of it. The mast landed on the cabin top and was banging up and down. They tied down the base of the mast and the mast then broke in two. They saved the boom and mainsail, and the bottom part of the mast, but lost the jib and the rest of the mast when they pulled the pins to cut her loose. They also lost one wind generator and one solar panel. But Richard had installed an inverted V antenna, so we had radio communication with them throughout.
There was very little damage to the boat from the mast crashing down on it. The cabin top crunched a little and broke the window, but all the living accommodations are intact. Ted has suggested to Richard building a Gougeon wing mast and Richard is very keen to explore that possibility. That would be the cheapest option by far. They still plan to sell the boat, but are in no hurry to do that, as they had already decided that they could live on it here cheaper than living ashore in a house in Hawaii. Plus, they like the community here and have easy access to stores, etc.
You can see a short write-up of the adventure in the latest newspaper. Everything else is fine here. We’ve eliminated the cockroaches from the inside of Irish Melody, but they moved outside, so we are dealing with getting the ones in the cockpit. As soon as I put the roach cookies down they were into it, so I expect I’ll find a lot of dead ones.
Hope all is well with you. Love, Karen
April 20, 2008
Back on Track
We’re back into the routine in Majuro. Had a couple days of pouring rain, which was good initially, as the tanks were dry. But after all the jugs are full, the rest is just a waste. Today the sun has come out, so spirits are rising and the dry-out is happening. It’s good to be back in internet access and BBC on the radio.
Ted’s job has dried up. The owners have put many thousands of dollars into this “toy” powerboat, and it will be many more thousands to finish it. Ted has thought from the beginning that it was a waste, and I guess the owners have come to the same conclusion. Ted and Doug still want to rent the shop space to do their own projects and maybe some paying ones, and it looks like that is a good possibility.
We’ve talked to Richard and Chris on Windswept and seen the boat. They are doing remarkably well. And the boat has very little damage. The living accommodations are intact. They lost one wind generator and one solar panel, but still have one of each left. Neither was hurt, and they did well with making good, concrete decisions at the height of their ordeal. Chris said she saw what the engineers did to get the engine going (bleed fuel lines and hand pump fuel from the tanks) and she realized that a year ago Richard would have been able to handle that with no problem, but the Alzheimers has taken hold and he just couldn’t problem-solve.
Richard wants to replace the mast and Ted has talked to him about building a Gougeon wing mast. Ted has the expertise to manage the project and under his supervision Richard could work with him. It would be by far the cheapest option to get the stick back up. The deck fitting pulled out, and that caused the mast to come down. They were both standing next to the roller furling jib, up forward, getting ready to set the sail, when all of a sudden it tore out of the deck and came down. As they were standing forward they were clear of it. It was crashing up and down on the cabin top and they managed to tie down the end, and it then broke. They cut it loose, so lost the top 2/3 and the jib, but saved the bottom of the mast with the winches and the main, as well as the boom. The rigging wire is gone, but they still have a good bit of hardware to work with. Looking at the remains sitting on their deck reminded us of our broken mast sitting on our deck in St Croix after hurricane Marilyn. They are both in good spirits and have the ability to look at the bright side.
I’m still unable to get work. Was at the hospital yesterday to get our prescriptions refilled, so stopped to see the Chief Nurse. She said that they would be hiring the new grads from the College of the Marshall Islands, and 2 Philippino nurses that they’ve been planning on for a long time. But there are 4 others besides myself looking for work, and there is no telling when that will happen. I wouldn’t expect it now for many months. So we’re going through a bit of our savings. But it is only 11 months till Ted starts getting social security, so we’re counting down!! Karen
We’re back into the routine in Majuro. Had a couple days of pouring rain, which was good initially, as the tanks were dry. But after all the jugs are full, the rest is just a waste. Today the sun has come out, so spirits are rising and the dry-out is happening. It’s good to be back in internet access and BBC on the radio.
Ted’s job has dried up. The owners have put many thousands of dollars into this “toy” powerboat, and it will be many more thousands to finish it. Ted has thought from the beginning that it was a waste, and I guess the owners have come to the same conclusion. Ted and Doug still want to rent the shop space to do their own projects and maybe some paying ones, and it looks like that is a good possibility.
We’ve talked to Richard and Chris on Windswept and seen the boat. They are doing remarkably well. And the boat has very little damage. The living accommodations are intact. They lost one wind generator and one solar panel, but still have one of each left. Neither was hurt, and they did well with making good, concrete decisions at the height of their ordeal. Chris said she saw what the engineers did to get the engine going (bleed fuel lines and hand pump fuel from the tanks) and she realized that a year ago Richard would have been able to handle that with no problem, but the Alzheimers has taken hold and he just couldn’t problem-solve.
Richard wants to replace the mast and Ted has talked to him about building a Gougeon wing mast. Ted has the expertise to manage the project and under his supervision Richard could work with him. It would be by far the cheapest option to get the stick back up. The deck fitting pulled out, and that caused the mast to come down. They were both standing next to the roller furling jib, up forward, getting ready to set the sail, when all of a sudden it tore out of the deck and came down. As they were standing forward they were clear of it. It was crashing up and down on the cabin top and they managed to tie down the end, and it then broke. They cut it loose, so lost the top 2/3 and the jib, but saved the bottom of the mast with the winches and the main, as well as the boom. The rigging wire is gone, but they still have a good bit of hardware to work with. Looking at the remains sitting on their deck reminded us of our broken mast sitting on our deck in St Croix after hurricane Marilyn. They are both in good spirits and have the ability to look at the bright side.
I’m still unable to get work. Was at the hospital yesterday to get our prescriptions refilled, so stopped to see the Chief Nurse. She said that they would be hiring the new grads from the College of the Marshall Islands, and 2 Philippino nurses that they’ve been planning on for a long time. But there are 4 others besides myself looking for work, and there is no telling when that will happen. I wouldn’t expect it now for many months. So we’re going through a bit of our savings. But it is only 11 months till Ted starts getting social security, so we’re counting down!! Karen
April 18, 2008
Back in the big city;
The return trip from Aur to Majuro was pretty much as rough as the trip up, and to my mind a bit less pleasant because of heavy cloud cover. I like to see the sky on night watches, and although the moon was near enough full to provide a general glow to help visibility a bit, the cloud never cleared enough to see a star. We sailed through several squalls, but stayed a little dryer than the trip up, because we remembered to snap on the port side cockpit spray curtain. I got the windvane to steer pretty well for my first watch, but about 2 hours into Karens next watch conditions got too irregular and she switched to the electronic autopilot. It's good to have options. When I came back on deck about 2 AM I decided to just leave it on the autopilot. I slowed the boat some more, but we still arrived at the Majuro pass 40 minutes before sunrise. The moon had set about 4:00, so it was pretty dark, but there was enought predawn light for me to see the outline of Kalalin Island, and the other side of the pass had navigation lights. For a shallow boat like Sequester there's about 3 quarters of a mile of usable width in the pass, so I felt safe enough to make the run into the lagoon without waking Karen. When she got up, we were just inside, and I was changing the sail to start the 11 mile upwind beat to the anchorage. With rain showers and variable winds, that took 4 hours, but by late morning we were on the mooring, and after basically securing the boat we visited with Russ (his boat is named Hyglig, a Danish name, pronounced "hyooglie") and went over to see Richard and Chris on Windswept. Russ had left last week, and was in Tarawa, 400 miles south of us when he heard about Windswept on the radio. Being a good friend to them, he turned around and sailed back to see that they were OK. They are dealing remarkably well with the loss of the rig, and I may be able to help Richard build a new mast here. The system that clouded things up for our run south intensified after we got here, and today it rained pretty much continuously. So, no water shortage, and I had time to read more of the report on the Marshall Islands socio-economic conditions over the last 15 years. Not really compelling reading, but important if I'm going to try to do anything of substance here. Karen got a bunch of errands run, and spent the afternoon cleaning out the dead paper from the file cabinet. A rainy day well spent. Life is OK. Ted
The return trip from Aur to Majuro was pretty much as rough as the trip up, and to my mind a bit less pleasant because of heavy cloud cover. I like to see the sky on night watches, and although the moon was near enough full to provide a general glow to help visibility a bit, the cloud never cleared enough to see a star. We sailed through several squalls, but stayed a little dryer than the trip up, because we remembered to snap on the port side cockpit spray curtain. I got the windvane to steer pretty well for my first watch, but about 2 hours into Karens next watch conditions got too irregular and she switched to the electronic autopilot. It's good to have options. When I came back on deck about 2 AM I decided to just leave it on the autopilot. I slowed the boat some more, but we still arrived at the Majuro pass 40 minutes before sunrise. The moon had set about 4:00, so it was pretty dark, but there was enought predawn light for me to see the outline of Kalalin Island, and the other side of the pass had navigation lights. For a shallow boat like Sequester there's about 3 quarters of a mile of usable width in the pass, so I felt safe enough to make the run into the lagoon without waking Karen. When she got up, we were just inside, and I was changing the sail to start the 11 mile upwind beat to the anchorage. With rain showers and variable winds, that took 4 hours, but by late morning we were on the mooring, and after basically securing the boat we visited with Russ (his boat is named Hyglig, a Danish name, pronounced "hyooglie") and went over to see Richard and Chris on Windswept. Russ had left last week, and was in Tarawa, 400 miles south of us when he heard about Windswept on the radio. Being a good friend to them, he turned around and sailed back to see that they were OK. They are dealing remarkably well with the loss of the rig, and I may be able to help Richard build a new mast here. The system that clouded things up for our run south intensified after we got here, and today it rained pretty much continuously. So, no water shortage, and I had time to read more of the report on the Marshall Islands socio-economic conditions over the last 15 years. Not really compelling reading, but important if I'm going to try to do anything of substance here. Karen got a bunch of errands run, and spent the afternoon cleaning out the dead paper from the file cabinet. A rainy day well spent. Life is OK. Ted
April 17, 2008
Headed to Majuro
It's 5:00 PM and we've just cleared the reef pass out of the Aur lagoon. Had an escort of about 20 spinner dolphins halfway across from Tabal to the pass. We'll try to hold speed down to about 4.5 knots, and arrive at the pass into Majuro a bit after dawn. Should have a nice moon tonight. Ted
It's 5:00 PM and we've just cleared the reef pass out of the Aur lagoon. Had an escort of about 20 spinner dolphins halfway across from Tabal to the pass. We'll try to hold speed down to about 4.5 knots, and arrive at the pass into Majuro a bit after dawn. Should have a nice moon tonight. Ted
April 16, 2008
After the celebration; The party slowly wound down over the last 2 days, and we moved on to other activities. Having established that Windswept was back on her mooring in Majuro, and Richard & Chris had joined Jerry for dinner ashore the next night, we could focus on our last few days in Aur before returning to our "city" life. One of the favorite pastimes of yachties is repairing equipment for the locals and teaching them how to maintain their high tech toys and tools. Spike has established a brisk trade in outboard motor repair at this atoll, and has quite a high success rate. Only 3 of them had him baffled, so he took me along to try my luck. The first was a Yamaha that had stopped shifting and was locked in forward gear. It failed about 3 years ago, and since they couldn't fix it, they just used it as a direct drive. Had to make sure you were pointed where you wanted to go before you pulled the starter cord! We traced it to a sheared off roll pin in the linkage pivot....quite simple except that it was located under the power head, so we had to disassemble half the motor to reach it, pull it out, drill out the broken pin, find a replacement (I used a 10 gauge stainless steel screw) and reassemble using the old gaskets. The repair went a bit slow....I had to move carefully to avoid stepping on one of the audience of spellbound 5 year olds, but when we finished it worked perfectly. They're pretty happy with that. The other two are REAL mysteries, both Johnson, both running just terribly for no apparent reason. We spent hours eliminating possible causes. No joy yet. Karen and I will stay another day so I can think about these things a little longer, and we can provide some more photos to the local kids, and get another good snorkel trip in. The lobster hunt last night turned out to be a complete bust, as the surf was a bit too rough and the prey wouldn't come up on the reef. But we've seen some pretty fish. The week's about shot anyway, so why rush back to Majuro? More soon. Ted
April 14, 2008
Now for the fun part
With the distance to go and the reasonable motoring speed they can hold with Windswept, they won't arrive in Majuro until tonight, so we probably won't hear from them until morning. I'll try for a contact with Jerry at 7 tonight, just in case he thinks to come up on the radio. Meanwhile, here's some of the SCHEDULED events that we've managed to enjoy.
Last night we had Eric, the Worldteach volunteer for Aur Atoll, out to Sequester for snacks and a visit. He's 23 years old, and like the girls who race with us in Majuro, leaves us with some hope for the future of the USA. He wants to do some good, wants to learn about what's outside his own life experience, but is clear headed about how much can be done for people in a short time, and is willing to make his small contribution and then move on with no regrets. He has only about a month left on his contract, but is trying to "finish strong" and leave his classes with usable skills and a will to learn. Not sure what his next move will be, but we feel confident he'll always be a positive contributor to the human race.
Today we got to watch the villagers from here at Tabal challenge the villagers from Aur Island at everything from sprint races for the 6 year olds to a "coconut race " for the 12 year olds (the nut is held between the thighs or knees while racing for the finish line) to highly spirited softball games between teams of women. The men play tomorrow. Between games, the village carvers and weavers showed their wares, and Karen bought another basket. I have no idea where we can keep it on the boat, but I'll admit it's a thing of beauty, and would have been a bargain at 4 times the price. They fed us again, a feast including dishes we brought from the yachts. I have to say I can now understand why they eat sea turtles at all these islands, so it's hard to make the case that they need to seriously curtail hunting them. Fortunately, there are a couple of Marshallese conservation workers traveling the atolls with Moonbird, establishing teaching programs for sustainability and pollution control, so at least the local people are addressing the problems among their own population. We also met a young man from a corporation whose charter describes it as enabling sustainable business propositions to increase economic opportunity in the Marshalls. He's working on setting up sea cucumber aquaculture. He's a bit of a glad-hander salesman type, but if they make any inroads into their stated goals, it will be a good thing for these people.
There was a light cloud cover for a good part of the afternoon, which helped keep us from getting baked with all the outdoor activities, and we got to do a little talking with the few Tabal villagers who have fair English skills. Tomorrow, between or after ball games, Spike and I will have a look at the two outboard motors that have defied his repair skills. I'm not at all sure I'm any better mechanic than Spike is, but I might get lucky. We haven't set a date yet for return to Majuro, but we'll probably decide that tomorrow too. I must say I'm anxious to get back and see Richard and Chris, and see what happened and what can be done for them with Windswept. More tomorrow. Ted
With the distance to go and the reasonable motoring speed they can hold with Windswept, they won't arrive in Majuro until tonight, so we probably won't hear from them until morning. I'll try for a contact with Jerry at 7 tonight, just in case he thinks to come up on the radio. Meanwhile, here's some of the SCHEDULED events that we've managed to enjoy.
Last night we had Eric, the Worldteach volunteer for Aur Atoll, out to Sequester for snacks and a visit. He's 23 years old, and like the girls who race with us in Majuro, leaves us with some hope for the future of the USA. He wants to do some good, wants to learn about what's outside his own life experience, but is clear headed about how much can be done for people in a short time, and is willing to make his small contribution and then move on with no regrets. He has only about a month left on his contract, but is trying to "finish strong" and leave his classes with usable skills and a will to learn. Not sure what his next move will be, but we feel confident he'll always be a positive contributor to the human race.
Today we got to watch the villagers from here at Tabal challenge the villagers from Aur Island at everything from sprint races for the 6 year olds to a "coconut race " for the 12 year olds (the nut is held between the thighs or knees while racing for the finish line) to highly spirited softball games between teams of women. The men play tomorrow. Between games, the village carvers and weavers showed their wares, and Karen bought another basket. I have no idea where we can keep it on the boat, but I'll admit it's a thing of beauty, and would have been a bargain at 4 times the price. They fed us again, a feast including dishes we brought from the yachts. I have to say I can now understand why they eat sea turtles at all these islands, so it's hard to make the case that they need to seriously curtail hunting them. Fortunately, there are a couple of Marshallese conservation workers traveling the atolls with Moonbird, establishing teaching programs for sustainability and pollution control, so at least the local people are addressing the problems among their own population. We also met a young man from a corporation whose charter describes it as enabling sustainable business propositions to increase economic opportunity in the Marshalls. He's working on setting up sea cucumber aquaculture. He's a bit of a glad-hander salesman type, but if they make any inroads into their stated goals, it will be a good thing for these people.
There was a light cloud cover for a good part of the afternoon, which helped keep us from getting baked with all the outdoor activities, and we got to do a little talking with the few Tabal villagers who have fair English skills. Tomorrow, between or after ball games, Spike and I will have a look at the two outboard motors that have defied his repair skills. I'm not at all sure I'm any better mechanic than Spike is, but I might get lucky. We haven't set a date yet for return to Majuro, but we'll probably decide that tomorrow too. I must say I'm anxious to get back and see Richard and Chris, and see what happened and what can be done for them with Windswept. More tomorrow. Ted
April 13, 2008
Finding Windswept;
Quite an emotional rollercoaster has carried us along since the last email. About an hour after I sent that, I was moderating the Rag of the Air radio net, about to close it when I got a call from Richard on Windswept. They had drifted just out of range of sight and radar, but had set a drogue to slow their drift. They were over 20 miles west of us. a bit too far for us to reach them with a sailboat unless it was a dire emergency, but thought they could sail back. I suggested a possible repair for the engine, and they said they'd try that, and with either sail or motor or both work their way back to Majuro. We set up an hourly schedule with the SSB to make sure they were OK, and all of us in Aur except for Ken on Moonbird (who was monitoring the radio) headed in for the church service and the days activities.
The preacher here is notorious for a couple of things; unceasingly long winded and boring (even when you can understand the language), and incredibly blatant about prying donations from his parishioners, then sending the proceeds directly to his family in Majuro. Between the church service and the inauguration of a new council, then some carrying on about the celebration activities, which were scheduled pretty much entirely for Monday, it was after 2:00 PM when we got back to the boats and checked with Ken. He said Chris had reported only limited success with the engine, and that they were going to set some sail, then try to improve the engine repair while under way. As Ken was finishing this report on the VHF radio, Chris broke in on the SSB with a mayday call. When they unfurled the jib, the headstay had broken, and the mast had come down. It was in the water pounding against the boat. Fortunately their antenna for the SSB was an unusual arrangement that left it still putting out at least a weak signal even with the mast and rig gone.
We confirmed that we knew the situation and their latest position, and I headed for the village to round up Spike and the highest government official there. Within a half hour we had notified the rescue services for the entire sector 14 region, including Majuro, Kwajelein, Hawaii, and New Zealand. Spike and I were getting ready to go on the rescue, using a Marshall Islands Marine Resources boat that had brought officials from Majuro. The Minister of the Interior was here, and was coordinating whether this was the best option. It turned out that the big patrol boat from Majuro was calling in the crew, and could reach them as soon as we could and with more resources on board. Because of the weak signal from Windswept they couldn't hear Chris, and the yachts in Aur had to act as relays to maintain communications. Richard and Chris got the mast disconnected from the rig, losing the whole rig but minimizing damage to the boat. Then we continued with hourly schedules and continuous monitoring of the SSB. It took until 5:00 this morning to get the patrol boat out to them, and that would have been nearly impossible without the radio relays. Ken and I stayed at our radios all night. He never went to sleep, while I napped for 40 minutes or so between each scheduled call. Chris and Richard missed a few calls after telling us they were going to get some sleep so they could function. With the boat stable, that was the best thing they could do.
The patrol boat reached them at dawn, and within an hour the two marine engineers were put aboard and had the engine running. They are now driving the boat to Majuro with the patrol boat escorting. Ken's asleep, I had a short nap and will go ashore with Karen for the sporting events as soon as I send this. So, not exactly all right, but far better outcome (so far) than we feared for a while. We'll try to concentrate more on the Aur community now, and will write more later. Ted
Quite an emotional rollercoaster has carried us along since the last email. About an hour after I sent that, I was moderating the Rag of the Air radio net, about to close it when I got a call from Richard on Windswept. They had drifted just out of range of sight and radar, but had set a drogue to slow their drift. They were over 20 miles west of us. a bit too far for us to reach them with a sailboat unless it was a dire emergency, but thought they could sail back. I suggested a possible repair for the engine, and they said they'd try that, and with either sail or motor or both work their way back to Majuro. We set up an hourly schedule with the SSB to make sure they were OK, and all of us in Aur except for Ken on Moonbird (who was monitoring the radio) headed in for the church service and the days activities.
The preacher here is notorious for a couple of things; unceasingly long winded and boring (even when you can understand the language), and incredibly blatant about prying donations from his parishioners, then sending the proceeds directly to his family in Majuro. Between the church service and the inauguration of a new council, then some carrying on about the celebration activities, which were scheduled pretty much entirely for Monday, it was after 2:00 PM when we got back to the boats and checked with Ken. He said Chris had reported only limited success with the engine, and that they were going to set some sail, then try to improve the engine repair while under way. As Ken was finishing this report on the VHF radio, Chris broke in on the SSB with a mayday call. When they unfurled the jib, the headstay had broken, and the mast had come down. It was in the water pounding against the boat. Fortunately their antenna for the SSB was an unusual arrangement that left it still putting out at least a weak signal even with the mast and rig gone.
We confirmed that we knew the situation and their latest position, and I headed for the village to round up Spike and the highest government official there. Within a half hour we had notified the rescue services for the entire sector 14 region, including Majuro, Kwajelein, Hawaii, and New Zealand. Spike and I were getting ready to go on the rescue, using a Marshall Islands Marine Resources boat that had brought officials from Majuro. The Minister of the Interior was here, and was coordinating whether this was the best option. It turned out that the big patrol boat from Majuro was calling in the crew, and could reach them as soon as we could and with more resources on board. Because of the weak signal from Windswept they couldn't hear Chris, and the yachts in Aur had to act as relays to maintain communications. Richard and Chris got the mast disconnected from the rig, losing the whole rig but minimizing damage to the boat. Then we continued with hourly schedules and continuous monitoring of the SSB. It took until 5:00 this morning to get the patrol boat out to them, and that would have been nearly impossible without the radio relays. Ken and I stayed at our radios all night. He never went to sleep, while I napped for 40 minutes or so between each scheduled call. Chris and Richard missed a few calls after telling us they were going to get some sleep so they could function. With the boat stable, that was the best thing they could do.
The patrol boat reached them at dawn, and within an hour the two marine engineers were put aboard and had the engine running. They are now driving the boat to Majuro with the patrol boat escorting. Ken's asleep, I had a short nap and will go ashore with Karen for the sporting events as soon as I send this. So, not exactly all right, but far better outcome (so far) than we feared for a while. We'll try to concentrate more on the Aur community now, and will write more later. Ted
April 12, 2008
Unscheduled activities;
Once again the best laid plans have gone astray. One of the yachts planning to come to Aur is Windswept, a 65 foot trimaran, with Richard and Chris aboard. They built the boat as they neared retirement, and then came out cruising the Pacific. They're in their mid 70s now, and Richard has been diagnosed with early stages of dementia. He's still usually pretty sharp, but at times loses track, and can't finish a task. The boat has a few issues with operating systems, making it physically hard to sail for people whose strength is starting to decline. So, we weren't so sure they should make the trip alone, but when their attempt to recruit friends to crew failed they decided to come anyway. After I sent the last email last night, about 11:00 PM I heard Richard call on the VHF radio. They had left yesterday morning, but had a slow trip up, arrived in the dark, and then had the engine fail with a fuel problem. They were relieved to get me on the radio as they could not possibly get through the reef pass in the dark with no motor. I told them we'd get a boat out the pass in the morning to help get them in if they could hang around behind the atoll until dawn. Richard said that would be excellent, and gave me their exact position. Then we lost contact, as their VHF radio has had a problem with heating up and quitting. I was up at 5 AM, Spike cancelled the fishing trip, and we arranged to pick up Dave from yacht Chameleon to help bring them in if we could find them. We couldn't raise them on the radio, so we took Holokai out to look, with the radar scanning a 28 mile circle. At about 8 AM Bonnie & Ken on Moonbird, standing by in the anchorage, made a very brief contact with Chris on the VHF. Crystal clear reception for 20 seconds, then nothing more. We kept calling, and sailed the length of the atoll on the west side. Another yacht arrived from Majuro at about 10 AM, but saw and heard nothing from them. At noon we gave it up and came back in, hoping Windswept has returned to Majuro. It would be a relatively easy sail, and if they can get into the lagoon there, we've notified a couple of people to watch for them and help them get moored again. We also sent word to the Australian Navy compound, so if they aren't there by tomorrow a search will be started.
Following that morning, our welcoming dinner at the village was a bit dampened emotionally. It was also a bit damp physically, as a convergence is showering us with frequent brief sprinkles of rain. The villagers put on a terrific party, with a flower decorated walkway up the beach, flower head pieces for the ladies, and a lei for each man. The speeches were reasonably short, and the food ranged from turtle to octopus, fish, lobster, three kinds of breadfruit dish, rice, squash, and coconuts. The choir sang quite a selection of harmony numbers as we were served, then settled down to eat with us. The place swarmed with happy, well behaved children.
It appears the lobster hunt for tonight has been cancelled, as low tide, when the hunt must happen, is at 3 AM, and nobody is hungry any more. Tomorrow will be church, followed by some sports. Softball is a serious pastime here, and nobody understands how the ladies, who tend to sit and weave (and gain weight) all day can hit, throw and run so effectively. They also show significant aggression to the umpires when they disagree with a call. One of those basic human truths I was looking for has emerged. Very close behind the need for food, shelter, and procreation, people crave entertainment. We just can't stand being bored, and these pretty isolated islanders are providing for their needs.
Time to get this email away, then make a radio schedule with Jerry in Majuro to see if Windswept has been heard from. Wish us luck. Ted
Once again the best laid plans have gone astray. One of the yachts planning to come to Aur is Windswept, a 65 foot trimaran, with Richard and Chris aboard. They built the boat as they neared retirement, and then came out cruising the Pacific. They're in their mid 70s now, and Richard has been diagnosed with early stages of dementia. He's still usually pretty sharp, but at times loses track, and can't finish a task. The boat has a few issues with operating systems, making it physically hard to sail for people whose strength is starting to decline. So, we weren't so sure they should make the trip alone, but when their attempt to recruit friends to crew failed they decided to come anyway. After I sent the last email last night, about 11:00 PM I heard Richard call on the VHF radio. They had left yesterday morning, but had a slow trip up, arrived in the dark, and then had the engine fail with a fuel problem. They were relieved to get me on the radio as they could not possibly get through the reef pass in the dark with no motor. I told them we'd get a boat out the pass in the morning to help get them in if they could hang around behind the atoll until dawn. Richard said that would be excellent, and gave me their exact position. Then we lost contact, as their VHF radio has had a problem with heating up and quitting. I was up at 5 AM, Spike cancelled the fishing trip, and we arranged to pick up Dave from yacht Chameleon to help bring them in if we could find them. We couldn't raise them on the radio, so we took Holokai out to look, with the radar scanning a 28 mile circle. At about 8 AM Bonnie & Ken on Moonbird, standing by in the anchorage, made a very brief contact with Chris on the VHF. Crystal clear reception for 20 seconds, then nothing more. We kept calling, and sailed the length of the atoll on the west side. Another yacht arrived from Majuro at about 10 AM, but saw and heard nothing from them. At noon we gave it up and came back in, hoping Windswept has returned to Majuro. It would be a relatively easy sail, and if they can get into the lagoon there, we've notified a couple of people to watch for them and help them get moored again. We also sent word to the Australian Navy compound, so if they aren't there by tomorrow a search will be started.
Following that morning, our welcoming dinner at the village was a bit dampened emotionally. It was also a bit damp physically, as a convergence is showering us with frequent brief sprinkles of rain. The villagers put on a terrific party, with a flower decorated walkway up the beach, flower head pieces for the ladies, and a lei for each man. The speeches were reasonably short, and the food ranged from turtle to octopus, fish, lobster, three kinds of breadfruit dish, rice, squash, and coconuts. The choir sang quite a selection of harmony numbers as we were served, then settled down to eat with us. The place swarmed with happy, well behaved children.
It appears the lobster hunt for tonight has been cancelled, as low tide, when the hunt must happen, is at 3 AM, and nobody is hungry any more. Tomorrow will be church, followed by some sports. Softball is a serious pastime here, and nobody understands how the ladies, who tend to sit and weave (and gain weight) all day can hit, throw and run so effectively. They also show significant aggression to the umpires when they disagree with a call. One of those basic human truths I was looking for has emerged. Very close behind the need for food, shelter, and procreation, people crave entertainment. We just can't stand being bored, and these pretty isolated islanders are providing for their needs.
Time to get this email away, then make a radio schedule with Jerry in Majuro to see if Windswept has been heard from. Wish us luck. Ted
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