Round Two...Let's Get This Party Started!

We left Martinique on a 3 day sail to Antigua with our core 5 crew plus our extra seasonal crew mate.  Having all returned from a month off after the boat was delivered from our last home in New Zealand, we were fresh and chatty.  Late night watches along the way were peppered with stories of our different vacations and experiences as we glided through the calm waters of the Caribbean to our new neighborhood. I had never been to Antigua before and each of the crew took turns describing their version of what to expect, all pretty much saying the same thing.  I got the gist that I was heading into party-ville with a lot of familiar faces and a lot of yachties (yacht workers).  One cannot complain to be anywhere in the Caribbean with its kind inhabitants, bountiful tropical fruits, fresh seafood, gorgeous weather, and pristine beaches.  However if you've done one Caribbean season, you have seen the depths to which crew can get themselves to.  It is a test of one's longevity in this industry at times because the music plays all night, the drugs are plentiful, the drinks are strong and inexpensive, and there are many yachts with many beautiful crew with lots of money to spend having fun.  I had not enjoyed my last Caribbean season all that much feeling a bit overwhelmed by all that was around me.  I breathed deep before we arrived having just had a lovely relaxing spiritual retreat in Bali and mentally buckled up for the anticipated ride.  

Arriving early in the morning I jumped out on deck as the dock guys with big smiles helped secure our lines.  It was starting out to be a beautiful sunny day, the weather warm and breezy.  I helped with fenders and assisted lowering the gangway, looking around.  We were sandwiched between two large yachts and the marina was buzzing with early morning dock traffic as golf carts with dock workers rolled along wooden planks.  I smiled at the stewardess who laughed back at me as man after man after man walked down the dock.  It was like a scene out of a movie I would pay to be in.  Everywhere I turned there was a yacht with several crew hanging over the rail to check out the new arrival.  I was giddy to be docked somewhere new for a couple months and I think the crew was giddy to be back somewhere they had fond memories and would be able to see old friends.  Like bulls let out of a pen, our very social and lively crew took to the scene quickly and developed our routine. Tuesday nights at Scullduggerys for live music and espresso martinis, Thursday and Friday nights at Mad Mongoose for live music and pool, paddle boarding to Catherine's on Pigeon Beach for rose` wine lunches and then finishing off Sunday evenings at Club Sushi.  We went for kite surfing lessons on the weekends and runs around the hills after work each day. For the first time in a long time I also found myself hanging out with a good core of girl friends which made the experience all that much more enjoyable.  Yachting seemed, if only for this quick season, like our world with our rules. We'd lay on the beach on the weekends or stroll up the street to the pub for a game of pool and gossip about who on what boat had made out with who and talk about our summer itineraries in Europe and how we could meet up.  We laughed over bottles of rose` and danced like fools to the local live music and had good one on one conversations about our futures and where we saw ourselves after getting off boats. Opposite to my apprehensions, life lightened during this awesome time full of get-togethers, dinners, relaxation, and a buzz of constant boats coming and going. Our crew also became good friends with the crew of the yacht next door and spent a lot of time hanging out with them.  Being on watch wasn't so bad anymore because you could just lean over the wooden rails at night with a glass of wine and chat up the person on watch next door.  They became our kite surfing buddies, gym partners, and dates to almost every event.  And though we were very socially active, I truly enjoyed the moments I was able to take to myself and the meditation that I was able to maintain each day.  The Goat Trail was one of my favorite after work hikes and/or runs with a beautiful view of the bay and sunset.  I would run back down through Nelson's Dockyard, through town, and back to the boat where I sat on the bow in meditation as often as I could after work.  So many great memories of this time that I truly have no complaint.  I may have left Antigua worn out, but with no regret and with a lot of fond memories. On our departure, the boat horns of our friends echoed in the harbor as we made our bittersweet departure from our little neighborhood and began our journey across the Atlantic to Spain. 

We just arrived today to Palma de Mallorca after 17 days at sea and a few in Gibraltar.  We begin a busy summer schedule we so desperately need after such spoiling.  One's feet much touch the ground of reality at some point, though being in Spain seems a dream all on its own!  The trip was calm and as easy as can be expected for an ocean crossing.  Lots of book reading, writing, and movie swapping. We were a bit quieter this trip, all of us "sea-toxing" after enjoying the fat of the land that was Antigua.  A large majority of the boats that were with us in Antigua will be docked with us again, our community transplanted to a new country.  I am looking forward to being based somewhere for more than 6 months and the opportunities ahead to go home to see loved ones and faces that I have waited too long to see.  I am also looking forward to this European season ahead and the many exciting trips we have planned this summer.  Antigua was an amazing time but I cannot help but think it was just a warm up…Lets get this party started already!

The Gem of Bali

I woke up early this morning to drive my sick friend Valentine to the taxi station on the back of my scooter.  Having seen him off safely, I rode back to my hotel, meandering through the narrow road between the rice paddies glowing green in the morning light.  The farmers were slowly plodding thigh deep in muddy waters while plunging long bamboo rods into the mud, tending to the rice fields.  The sun rose above ashy black stone temples on street corners as the food vendors threw buckets of water on dirty street roads to start the day fresh.  Locals rode in two's on scooters donning blue medical masks and zipping fearlessly in and out of traffic as stray dogs darted out of the way.  Old women in produce market stalls, open since 4am, peddled spinach, carrots, galanga root, young coconut, hot peppers, and tropical fruits alongside fried cakes and meats.  I debated a morning shop but remembered that Wayan would be at the villa preparing breakfast and I could not pass up the opportunity to drink my coffee while being in the presence of her warm smiling face.  

I pulled into the villa, removed my helmet and flip flops and padded into the kitchen.  As expected, Wayan was at the sink cleaning guest dishes and turned with her big smile when I walked in.  A mother in her late 30's, Wayan was the obvious grounds keeper of the villa with a bubbly personality and always saying something to make the rest of the staff laugh while gently directing them in their duties.  I liked to sit in the kitchen in the morning reading the news with my coffee while she trained her teenage daughter in the kitchen.   

Seeing me, she stopped her cleaning and turned to smile.  "Good morning Sarah!  How are you today?" 

"Im good Wayan, thank you.  How are you?"

She nodded with eyes closing in emphasis, "Always good, Sarah, always good.  You have breakfast today?"  She asks me this everyday though I almost never do.  

"No, just a coffee for now."  I laugh at her expression of shock that she gives me when I say this.  

"Sarah, why you don't eat?" she asks, turning around to heat up water for my coffee.

"I don't know, maybe with my friend in a bit," I lie, smiling at her guiltily.  I don't have the heart to tell her I eat late because I know she'll wait around to feed me because that is the Balinese way.  I can barely scoot around her to wash my own coffee mug before she playfully slaps my hand and grabs it.  She nods her head and casts me a motherly look of disapproval while still smiling.  I grab my seat in the kitchen and check my emails as the rest of the villa staff begins to filter in, smiling and greeting me, each of them remembering my name.  Wayan tells a joke and the young ladies giggle, covering their mouth.  I can't help but join in their infectious laughter as I look up and ask, "What are you saying over there Wayan?"  She explains how she's teasing one of the girls about a boy she likes with that huge smile. 

It is my last day here in Bali and I am a bit sad.  It has been a long time since I have been in a country like this where I am reminded of how much I have and how little many in the world around me have.  Yet, despite what material riches the Balinese lack, they lack for nothing when it comes to what is truly important in life.  Anywhere you go in Bali, you will find a hard working person that does not complain.  In fact, one of my favorite things I have noticed is how much they love to sing while they work.  And they don't just sing…they SING!  The other day I watched a fisherman grab a simple fishing rod and head out in his underwear in the early morning, strutting proudly, singing at the top of his lungs to the rising sun.  They are content and one smile from another brings a huge smile on their face, one grateful handshake is met with a lingering hand hold that they genuinely mean in unabashed and vulnerable intimacy.  They don't get angry, they just put their heads down and work hard.  Balinese typically live in tiny homes with electricity that goes in and out, large mosquitos flying to and fro, rains swiping dirt everywhere.  Their opportunities to ever see the kind of luxuries we could never live without are minimal to none.  Their competition for tourism business is challenging in a place where there are so many taxi drivers, massage therapists, and food stands fighting for business.  

Tourists from all over the world come here to exploit the luxury at cheap prices that can be afforded in such a place of poverty.  Yoga studios and organic food cafes abound in places like Ubud with thrifty travelers who haggle prices for things that would be 5 times the price in their respective countries.  I found myself bargaining over $2 the other day, went home, and felt shame as I looked in the mirror.  What have I become that I can come to places where $1 means so much to someone and I argue over it?  Where I brag that I was able to eat my meal for $3 and yet I'll buy a beer for the same price? "It is the principle of the thing," I have justified to myself in conversations with my fellow travelers.  Words that are hollow as they leave my lips and I marvel that I have fallen so far from the young girl who once traveled to Africa to help the less fortunate.   As I left today to the airport, I felt my eyes water as I hugged Wayan goodbye and I thanked her for everything she does out of the beauty and kindness in her heart.  She will never know how much it meant to me because she doesn't take herself so seriously and it is how it is done.  It has opened my heart, though, and I don't know how, but I am moved to do something about it.

When I look back on my stay in Bali I can recommend good places to stay, places to avoid, and what the cost of things are.  In all honesty though, the real treasure of this beautiful land is the people that live here.  To be able to be amongst them and to learn the lesson of gratefulness, humility, love, and survival is truly the gem that sits out in the open so easy to find.  I encourage anyone that comes here to truly look for that and to appreciate the simplicity with which these people live their lives and the joy they find despite their lack of material riches.  You will not have to look far to hear a beautiful morning song or to see one of those beautiful Balinese smiles. 

Thank you Bali.

Gili Island Nightmare

I took a trip to Gili Trawangen after a few days in Ubud.  Anxious for a beach, some good scuba diving, and a reprieve from the heat, I booked a trip through a local company to take me.  It was a muggy hot day and I waited in the shade in front of my hotel, sitting on my bags.  After a half hour wondering if I'd been forgotten, a rickety old van pulled up, tourists sticking arms out windows wiping sweaty brows.   A skinny older Indonesian man with a long white pony tail and a dirt smudged wife beater jumped out of the drivers' seat and grabbed my bags, throwing them on top of a mountain of luggage piled to the top of the van's back ceiling.  He grunted towards me "Sit" and pointed to the front passenger door.  I jumped up next to a pretty smiling, young bohemian woman with short bangs, long blonde hair, and a bag with takeout food on her lap.  "Hi," she said smiling. "I'm Katie."  I introduced myself and squished in next to her. 

 "Cozy," I joked.  "Looks like we're going to become good friends real quick."  She smiled and we both eased into casual conversation for the hour and a half drive to the boat.  An American from California, we talked about our travels, mutual love for Indonesia, and what we planned to do once we got to the island.  I liked Katie right away and we made plans to meet up again on the island for a drink.  

When we finally arrived to the boat we were ushered to a booth to get boarding passes and then to a dock where we waited in the shade amongst a 100+ other people.  Balinese women sat peppered amongst the crowd selling sarongs, sunglasses, cold beers, waters, Pringles, and spiced nuts.  American, Canadian, Asian, and European tourists fanned themselves in the humid heat with weak smiles, straddling bags and backpacks.  A friendly young Korean girl named Mindy sat next to me on the ground and we chatted about her last year living in Australia.  A tuba player in her local orchestra, she had taken some time to travel and spoke near perfect English.  This was also her first trip to the Gili Islands and she looked around asking a lot of questions I had no answers for.  "How long do you think this will take? Are all these people on one boat?" I told her I hoped not, having a brief flashback to news reports of ferries sinking from overcrowding and poor maintenance.  

After what seemed like a long wait, we finally started boarding the 80 foot "fast boat," as its called here.  The deckhands grabbed our bags and tossed them on the top as we were ushered onto the main deck where rows of seats lined next to each other began to fill up.  I sat next to a Malaysian couple that offered me the empty seat on the aisle.  A young Indonesian man tried selling me a cold Bintang beer and I declined knowing a possibility of regret if the seas got rough.  Groups of loud, young Australians down to party ordered a bunch and opted to sit up top with the luggage in the sunshine.  I considered going up there as well but decided against it and kept my seat.  It wasn't until we were underway for 10 minutes that the staff informed us that the air conditioning was broken.  A hundred hot and miserable tourists groaned, fanning themselves, tried to open windows, complaining some more.  The further offshore we traveled, the more clouds gathered, the wind picked up, and the rougher the seas began to get.  I passed the time listening to podcasts and chatting to a little Swedish girl who kept popping up over her seat to talk to me and feed me Pez candies.  I hadn't seen Katie in a while and I hoped she was okay as the waves seemed to get bigger and the boat tipped from side to side.  Having been in rough seas before I assured myself this was normal but after about an hour of gradually higher seas and high winds, I knew we were in a bad situation.  Waves crashed up over the sides of the boat and the windows that we were open had water spraying through, causing the staff to come and close them.  The heat became stifling and unbearable, the passengers bracing themselves, eyes closed, hands gripping those next to them in fear.  A man across the aisle got a sick bag for his girlfriend and held one out for me.  I declined and said, "Im ok, I work on a boat so I am used to this."  I looked at her and lied, "This is normal, don't worry.  We'll be fine."  Honestly, I had started to worry.  This was not normal and not being able to see out didn't help as the boat crashed into the waves, throwing me from side to side.  I gripped my jade necklace Luke had given me for protection and thought to myself, "I really hope this thing works." Unable to stand the heat anymore, one passenger foolishly opened the side door we had boarded through and a wave crashed into it, filling the boat with water.  The staff rushed to close it as passengers screamed.  A couple feet of water slashed around the bottom of the boat and the deckhands grabbed buckets and cups.  The man next to me turned to me and said, "You need to get up now."  I jumped out of my seat as he threw up all over the floor.  I moved quickly to an open seat across the aisle.  I have never seen a human throw up as much or as loudly as this man threw up, continuing for a good 3 minutes.  It was as if he didn't know how to do it and though the staff handed him a bucket, he could not hit it to save his life.  For what seemed like an eternity he continued to loudly throw up spicy, smelly food all over the floor.  I sat next to a French father with his young daughter on his lap and they held their hands over their ears as he shouted, "How much did this man have to eat!?" As if it wasn't bad enough, then the sick man's wife began to throw up as well.  This was more than passengers could handle and the lady sitting behind me threw up.  Person after person grabbed bags from ahead of us as the smell began to waft through the damp and hot boat, no windows open to help with the escape of smell or sound.  One lady threw up all over herself.  It was like a scene out of a ridiculous movie, so unbelievable and insane.  At least a dozen people were sick and the sounds and smells mixed with the pitching of the boat and crashing of the waves was overwhelming.  An Australian man in front of me turned and looked at me yelling, "Fuckin A!" and we both just started laughing.  I couldn't stop laughing at the absurdity and I felt terrible but it was all I could do.  As the waves continued to get worse, I could hear screaming from the top of the boat and bottles rolling around, grateful I didn't go up there.  Finally, after what should have been an hour and a half trip, our 3 hour trip ended at a nearby island.  The people who had sat on top came down drenched, some of them with vomit all over their clothes.  Their ride had been one of terror, as wave after wave crashed on them as they clung to the sides of the boat.  As passengers began to get off the boat, I moved over to a seat by the window to look out and decide what to do.  A young man that had been a passenger looked in at me through the glass and motioned for me to come with him.  I grabbed my backpack and darted out the door.

"They aren't going any further. You have to figure out your transportation from here," the Englishman said.  "I've got a speedboat with the Swedish couple and their kids.  There's only room for one more and there aren't that many boats.  If you want to come, you can come with us but we have to go now."  I nodded and thanked him.  I climbed up the boat ladder to get my bag instead of waiting with the rest of the passengers for it to be handed down.  Seeing that the dock was full of stranded tourists and that it was a matter of time before options would diminish, I knew I needed to grab this opportunity.  The Swedish couple smiled at me, introduced themselves, and I greeted the little girl again that had been feeding me candy during the trip as she reached up for me.  Our boat driver hurried us through the crowd and we piled our bags on his small speed boat and jumped on.  Other people tried to jump on but the boat driver stopped them as the dock helpers untied the boat explaining he could only safely take the 6 of us.  We pulled away quickly and I looked back to see my Korean friend standing there wide-eyed and scared.  I felt terrible wishing I could go back and get her but I knew that I couldn't and I felt selfish as I turned away.  Meandering through waves, speeding up then slowing down, speeding up and darting forward, I held on and smiled at the little girl sitting on her mother's lap next to me looking scared.  Shaking our heads with disbelief, we all looked at each other with incredulousness at what we had just experienced as we approached the island of Gili Trawangan.  We passed sunken boats and docks floating off into the ocean as we approached a beach with hundreds of people standing on the waters' edge.  I think this was the first moment I truly realized how bad the storm had been.  After a short struggle to dock, we finally got to shore, bags in hand.  I said goodbye to the Swedish couple and kids and thanked them for their help.  Simon, the Englishman, offered for me to come to his hotel to get sorted out and I gladly accepted.  The streets were rainy, muddy, trees strewn everywhere.  When we finally reached his hotel, I found out that the hotel I had booked had misprinted their location.  They were on a different island and now I was on this island with no place to stay.  What was worse was all the people who were supposed to leave couldn't because of the storm and so there were no rooms available.  Could this get any worse?  Simon offered me to stay at his hotel for the night and I thanked him, accepting a place to sit for a bit while I figured out my next step. We sat on his balcony, drank a beer, and watched as locals and tourists struggled to move trees out of the road and the passengers from our boat ride slowly began to make it into town.  I saw Katie walking down the street and yelled out to her in relief.  She had thankfully caught a boat over and we agreed to meet up later after she found her hotel.   The hotel owner helped me find a room at his friends' villa nearby for the night.  After 2 days of no electricity or wifi and trying to navigate through drunken tourists down dark sketchy streets at night, I cut my trip short on Gilly.  My friend Paul in Bali, knowing about my situation, had a room in a villa in Sanur just near the marina on the mainland and offered me to come rest after the insanity of those three days.  I happily joined him, recounting my crazy tale to him over dinner as he shook his head in disbelief.  I had found out later that over 30 boats had sunk in that storm.  No one on the island could believe we had been out at sea during the worst of it and we were lucky it wasn't any worse and no one died or was badly hurt.  I can only look back at that whole situation and think to myself how lucky I was to have had the Swedish people move quickly and get the speed boat.  I was lucky to have Simon pull me out of the madness, take care of me, and help me find a hotel.  I was lucky that the hotel owner went out of his way to help me find a place to sleep. I was lucky to have Paul to offer me a night of quiet, calm, and safety once I returned to the mainland.   This was definitely one of the craziest experiences I've had in a while.  It could have been a lot worse.  I am so grateful it wasn't and that I can now write about this from my safe and beautiful villa in Canggu where I am peacefully enjoying my last few days in Bali with my new friends. 

P.S.

 I must warn to anyone that is thinking to go to Gili Trawangan…don't go.  The rest of the story is so long and detailed but its extremely unsafe, fairly lawless, drugs everywhere, theft, and dangerous.  I got followed home in the dark by drugged up locals wanting money, saw some pretty sketchy things happen, heard some really bad stories that thankfully didn't happen to me.  Save your money and enjoy the monkey forest in Ubud or go surfing in Canggu.  

New Zealand...New Zeal

    

After coming to New Zealand practically limping off my last job with carpal tunnel, a heel spur, an inability to sleep at night, and large dark circles under my eyes, I did NOT see myself getting onto another yacht a few weeks later to work a 2 week charter for the holidays.  However in the change over in my travels from the North Island to the South Island, I thought it would be a good idea to check in with my agency in Auckland to see what freelance work might come up in the coming months and put my name in because I go a bit nuts after a few weeks without work.  The agency assured me that it would be tough for me to find work for at least another month, as the season was starting off slow.  An hour later another agency was calling me with an emergency gig that started the next day on a sailboat nearby subbing in for a chef that walked the day before a boss' family Christmas trip.  Having worked with crazy crew and knowing their predicament, I thought, Hey I'll give it a look and see what they are offering.  Twenty minutes later, I walked onto the beautiful blue sailboat in the marina and met the captain who was appropriately stressed and in a state of desperation.  

"You probably are wondering why our chef walked out and I know that this is such an alarm bell to anyone looking for work but I can promise you we treat our crew great, the owner is an amazing man from the U.S., and our itinerary is going to be a lot of fun.  I am not sure why she left but I can assure you it was as much a shock to me as it was to the rest of the crew," he explained, seeming still in a bit of shock running his hands through his hair.  "What we need is someone who can jump in and take over in the middle of this mess, " he concluded with a serious and direct look asking for my answer.

My heart went out to this man and I loved his honesty and vulnerability right away.  Some crazy thing in me rose out of my vocal chords before I could think it through as I blurted out, "Yeah I can do that."  

I shifted uncomfortably at the sound of my words. 

" Really?"  he asked blinking.

"Uh, yeah.  Yeah I can do that. " I nodded gaining confidence in my words. 

"Hey, I'm used to cooking for 20 people on a 2 week trip with provisions in crappy countries.  I don't see why I can't whip something together for 12 people with a fully stocked grocery store nearby.  I got this."  I said nodding with an odd calmness of knowing I really did mean my words and that it would be the right thing to do.

With a pat on his knees and a surrender of hands he sighed, "As long as you are not an axe murderer and your resume is true, I am going to go on blind faith and ask if you can join us for this trip then.  I mean, I don't even care about your resume at this point.  I am just going to take you at your word.  Are you sure you are up for this?  You can do this?" he asked again.

"I got this.  Are you okay?  I am more worried for you being stressed," I laughed, trying to break the tension.  

He let out a long sigh, "I just don't know how this happened," he laughed, hands in the air, his voice coming up a couple octaves. "I swear we have such a good thing here I can't understand why this chef just left us like this at the last minute."  

"Well better now than in the middle of the trip," I pointed out.  "This is all going to work out," I assured him. "Don't worry.  I am a hard worker and I love a challenge.  We're going to have a great trip.  I'm excited!" I smiled.  

He looked at me with squinted eyes trying to figure out if I was full of shit.  After hammering out financial details all was said and done. 

"Right. Well, welcome!" he smiled and just like that, I was on another yacht. 

I went home, packed my things, told the people I had planned to travel with that I needed to delay my plans, and joined the yacht for the trip the next morning thinking to myself, What have I got myself into?  The next two weeks that passed answered my questions and were nothing short of a miracle. I was right where I needed to be.  Sometimes you need to be reminded of how you should be treated and how your life can be to truly see what you had settled for and to know there is still hope out there.  I worked with a crew that was full of laughs, good words, cheer, and some serious hard work.  Everyone pitched in, no one was above helping someone else.  The owner of the yacht was a true gentleman of simple lifestyle with a big heart and a kind nature.  He treats his staff well and they speak well of him. The fact that he loved my food helped too!   I have never enjoyed a holiday trip so much and at the end of it, I was offered one of the best job offers I could ask for…a rotational position as Executive Chef working 4 months on and 2 months off.  WHAT!!???  I didn't have to write out my wish list it came to me above and beyond what I could have even thought I deserved.  I cannot express enough gratefulness.  I was and still am dumbfounded.  A couple weeks later now, we are packing up the sailboat to ship it to the Virgin Islands where I will be joining my new home in a month. I can commence my trip south with peace and continue to explore New Zealand and Indonesia!

That being said, it has been an amazing trip so far in New Zealand.  After leaving my last job I took a clunky blue van I bought that I outfitted with a bed and camping gear and meandered my way through the green hills of the North Island of New Zealand for a few weeks to explore, relax, and rejuvenate.  I had such a beautiful experience meeting other travelers (lots of Germans here) on their own individual quests and sharing banter with the locals who love to tease and joke through friendly smiling eyes.  A patient and giving people, New Zealanders are a well-spring of love and acceptance making it easy to see why people from so many countries come here to wander.  I took my friend Luke on the second leg of my North Island venture and we made the most of our time.  We drove down 90 mile beach with my van getting stuck only once!  Dug clams up on the beach to sauté on my camping stove with butter and lemon, hands salty and faces smiling.  Travelers walking across the country greeted us and shared travel stories as we shared beers around fires and enjoyed the simple warmth of human connection.  We went scuba diving at Poor Knights' Caves, sand sledded down the dunes of Oponone, ate fish and chips in Mangonui, visited a winery on a cloudy day in Opua, went to the northern Cape where the Tasman Sea crashes against the Pacific, hiked to a private beach in Onokawa, did the luge in Rotorua, and walked the historic streets of New Zealands' first capital in Russell.  We rolled back into Auckland sandy, smiling, and full of exciting memories.  This week I travel alone again through Raglan, a beautiful little town of hippies and surfers on the western coast of New Zealand, kayaking and enjoying the simple life.   I have to say that this experience so far in New Zealand has been one of regrowth and relaxation, with healthy challenges and new friends for life.  It is like someone hit reset on my life and said, "Its never too late".  

In one month I head to Martinique for a couple months and then to cross the Atlantic to the Mediterranean in June for the Superyacht races on the beautiful blue sailboat I now am employed on.  I cannot wait for the pages of adventures I will write about to come!  But for now….Onward south!!!

Bula from Fiji!

Ah, Fiji.  I must give this a nice write up because it is deserving.  I am pleased to say we are finally done with the hardest part of this journey and only have a 5 day trip left at sea to reach the promised land…New Zealand.  I am not joking when I say I will probably cry a big bucket of little baby girl relief tears when we arrive, like a kindergardener awaiting their mamma at the end of the day.  But for now, I am enjoying my two days off and doing everything I swore I would do once back from our two week guest trip.  The first of which is…I will be around Fijians and away from my crew mates for a bit of sanity.  I am happy to say my first impression of Fijians sticks and has grown deeper roots with a much more solid foundation of experiences.  I am so humbled by the demeanor and kindness of these people.  They are simple and laid back carrying big smiles, gentleness, and hospitality.  Some of the friendliest I have ever met in my life and that is no exaggeration.  Among many interactions of feeling a genuine love, I have to share this kind of funny experience from the grocery store the other day. 

Typically when I go to provision for the yacht, I am the asshole with three big overflowing carts of food and most people don't want to wait behind me.  The poor cashier usually lets out a patient sigh as they see me wheel up to the counter.  I am always so apologetic and feel bad and that is just my personality and typically for good reason because a lot of what I buy is fresh produce and it can take a while to ring up and package.  I realized about halfway through checking out a massive amount of items that I had to weigh all my vegetables in a different part of the market before checking out and I had a LOT in my second cart.  Embarrassed to hold up the line, I apologized to the growing number of people behind me as the clerk asked them to wait for me to go back, weigh everything, then come back and continue.  I look back at the people behind me, apologize and tell the clerk to just ring me up for what she's scanned and I'll go and come back. She laughs and says, "Darling, dis is noooo problem. They can wait."  Without missing a beat, the man behind me grabs my produce and disappears smiling.  He returns 10 minutes later with all my produce weighed and priced.  I apologized and thanked him profusely. He patted me on the back and said, "Don't worry!  You worry too much!  Its okay, you are on Fiji time now."  The clerk laughed, the people in line laughed nodding, and it made me smile and relax.  Coming from a country where you have people huffing behind you if you carry 15 items to a 10 item counter, I was amazed. And this is not just one isolated incident.  It is the Fijian way.  The whole point is to be happy.  That is all.  A lot of Aussies and Kiwis vacation here and can come off as I am sure Americans must.  A bit impatient, entitled, and loud.  The response from the Fijians is like throwing a dart at a pillow.  It is fairly pointless.  Their humility is humbling and admirable but also powerful as if to say, "No no no…This is OUR way."  They MAKE you slow down by showing you how to react.  Everyone begins to relax, I must think, once in the presence of a Fijian.  

When we visited Wasaimo Island on our guest trip I encountered the same sort of spirit amongst the locals of the village we were in.  It was magical and very much a spiritual experience for me.  I looked up into the trees as my eyes would water with tears.  I was emotional as though my soul were overflowing with healing water that I so badly needed to drink of.  The healing waters of love.  I had been around the demands of guests, the frustrations of my crew mates, the complaints brought on by bored wealth, and finding myself floundering back and forth in waves of negativity.  I had bowed my head low for a few months just willing myself to make it through and truly unable to take much more.  Thank God for this experience though!  I stepped into this village as though stepping into an earthly version of heaven. The children had these beautiful looks of joy and innocence on their faces watching us very closely and curiously and an heir of being taken care of, not wanting anything from us but to give us love and to show us around. They smiled big, they hugged without fear or reserve, the elders smiling down at them with acceptance and approval.  They didn't want for anything because their system of taking care of each other and the love and patience they put into each other was sufficient.  I spoke with a couple of the school teachers of the village that had trained in the university on the mainland but chose to come back to this small village.  When I asked one of the ladies why she chose this life she said, "Because I am free.  I don't carry money.  I don't carry keys.  I have all of this around me that God provides and I do my part.  The others do their part.  We are all free."  Wow.  Just…wow.  She gave me a hug and all I could say was, "Thank you."  We gave coloring books, pencils, paper, and candy to the island Chief for the school.  They gave me life and a mountain of love that I desperately needed.  We said goodbye and I still cannot stop thinking about that experience. 

Fiji is, of course, not perfect.  There is a divide at times between the local Fijians and the Indians that are also a prominent culture on the islands. The Indians were brought here in the first place by the English to work the sugar cane fields after the English realized the Fijians weren't going to move very fast out in the fields.  They were on island time and valued time with their families and having a peaceful relaxed life.  They had no want to change and to adapt to the ways of money, which I find so darn funny.  Its just their way and it is amazing.  So then came the Indians with their frugal money tendencies and their hard work ethic.  They are financially powerful here due to their savvy with money and own a lot of the real estate and profitable businesses. Both complain about the other's way but at the end of the day, they co-exist without too much drama.  The Fijians are almost all Christians and the Indians are Hindus.  They both seem to embrace the peaceful sides of their beliefs and I find this interesting how this works in almost a symbiotic manner with one group being the worker bees and the other being the social personalities. They both also have AMAZING food and as a chef, it is a dream come true.  They are very different in their styles but both very rich and full of flavor.  Fijians cook with coconut, pineapple, fresh fish, fire, taro root, cassava, and love their pork.  Somewhat similar to Hawaiian food.  The Indians have amazing curries, samosas, braised goat, roti, and tamarind based dips.  Each morning myself or one of my crew mates will go to this tiny old Indian lady at the end of the marina to buy tuna and chicken roti to take back and share with the crew for breakfast.  They are less than a dollar each but they are worth gold to us.  I think if I could start my day off with one of these roti everyday, I would never have a bad day! 

I end my time in Fiji with a couple days off and have begun my day catching up on family business and relaxing with a much needed massage.  My massage therapist (a Fijian) gave me a big hug after my massage and told me I needed it because my back was so tense.  Little baby girl cried again.  What can I say? Love has a way of opening the floodgates within me.  It has been a very difficult last few months and I would be lying to say it has all been exciting adventures and privilege.  I will admit I have it good and that I don't feel it right to complain too much when I put my life into perspective.  But every now and then, I am down on myself, I am needing my cup to be filled, and I am not ashamed to say I need to lean on someone to hold me and to tell me to not worry so much, to feel their love, and to relax.  I must say "Vanaka!" (thank you) to the people that I have found in this beautiful land of Fiji who have been a direct answer to my prayers.  My cup surely runneth over. Bula Bula!

The Stars That Shine The Brightest

In the early sunrise of Sunday morning, I prepared food and the galley for our arrival.  We had just entered the waters of Fiji as the sun came out from its slumber highlighting small islands, their black half moon orbs dotting the horizon.  With the exception of our quick stop in Tahiti, we had been out at sea for a month.   A shower of relief ran down me from head to toe as I saw the end of the journey coming closer into sight.  The rest of the crew began to move around the boat throughout the next couple hours in preparation for our arrival.  Stewardesses put restocked stowed items to their stations and gave the boat's interior a cleaning.  The deck crew sprayed the sticky humid salt off the three decks starting on the sun deck and working their way down to the main.  The captain made a call to the port to confirm our arrival.  Everyone moved with a little more juice in their step.  The drudgery and tired expressions of the last month had turned into smiles and hugs as we started talking about what we would do with our day on land. I read through the immigration paperwork again to begin setting aside the items (such as produce and unsealed grains) that the officers would be likely to confiscate.  I laughed to myself as I read that Fiji also will throw away all pornographic material or Holy Water found onboard.  Interesting.  "Every country is different in their own weird ways," I thought to myself as I remembered the ridiculously old labrador Mexican immigration brought onboard as their "drug dog".  Smelling our lunch in the crew mess he'd led the police in a hurried chase down the crew stairs to a plate of sandwiches and then proceeded to roll around on his back for belly rubs, his handler blushing and smiling.  I wondered if we'd get a furry little friend to play with in Fiji.  

I stood on the swim platform with a fender in hand as we backed into our slip on the dock in case we came too close to one of the large steel pillions we needed to maneuver between.  Our starboard bow thruster was on the fritz and we were in a strong current so it took us a bit of time to dock.  Calm as always under pressure, our captain joked on the radio, "You guy having fun yet?"  Relaxing from our tension we laughed at his greatly timed joke and cheered causing claps from the dock hands who had come to help us with our lines and had now sat down to wait patiently for us to dock.  "Bula!"  they yelled out to us in greeting waving us in.  "Bula!" we yelled back.  Ryan released our starboard anchor, Jake pulled me back up to the main deck, and I threw one of the stern lines to the dock helper as we tied off, aft facing the dock.  As I looked around the neighborhood of yachts, every single boat around us was an expedition style yacht like us.  I guess they are the ones best fit for these long trips!  The yacht next door had also just come in from the United States a few weeks prior and greeted us warmly making plans with the guys to go for drinks later.  Overwhelmed and heart racing, I checked with Jake to see if I was needed on deck anymore and then retreated back to the galley to finish cooking brunch with what I imagine was a huge smile on my face.  

We passed immigration quickly with the same welcoming and friendly warmth from the officers that we'd received from the dock crew.  They took none of our produce or food off the boat and gave us advice on places to eat and drink in town before hugging us goodbye.  Hands down the easiest and kindest entry into any country we have yet to experience.  When they left, we danced around the boat excited to officially be on land and had a champagne toast with brunch.  The crew cleaned up afterward and I left with the captain to check us in and to grab a few food items for the weekend from the local grocery store.  I floated on land as I half walked, half skipped smiling and saying "Bula" to anyone who should walk by.  Thank God…we were finally in Fiji. 

I have been learning so much through these travels in particular, like a crash course in understanding one's limits. I have had to come to terms with a lot that lies within me. Maintaining calm and holding opinions, learning to sit in silence in the dark and be at peace without the need to fill the void with my words or to shut off.  There is an ever present energy that surrounds the boat underway with waves crashing our portholes at night, the gentle and sometimes intrusive rocking of the moving water below, and the wind that is constantly moving in the sky.  Constellations above become bright in the darkness and fade in the bright moonlight that brightens the ocean below.  Sun rises as moon sets, blue light becomes golden, and new days are born out of lapsed time.  We listen to news broadcasts on the radio and comment to each other about the state of the world, the conflicts in each of our countries, our distance from these things.  It is hard to not let your imagination go wild when you are left to your thoughts so much but it is also hard to relate when you are so far from civilization and any other people.  I watch Facebook posts and feel so remote and unable to connect to my friends' lives and yet I keep on watching because I don't want to be alone.  I don't want to be forgotten or to forget.  I post thoughts and photos on a more regular basis than I would to drop a line out into the universe saying, " I'm still here!" I daydream about walking to my favorite coffee shop down my old street with my dog and sitting with my girlfriends after work enjoying a beer amongst locals that recognize me.  I have sleepless nights where I am haunted by all the poor decisions I have made in my past, the people I have hurt, shake my head to try to think about something else.  My mind constantly entertains the question of how much longer I see myself working on a boat and if all these experiences are worth the loneliness. I don't want to be out in the middle of the ocean anymore.  I don't want to have this be my end.  I miss the little things I didn't appreciate before and I am seeing how small and insignificant I am in this world surrounded by nobody that loves me.  My watch partner said to me yesterday, " I am so ready to get to land already that I don't even care that we are going to Fiji.  Can you believe that?"  he laughed self consciously.  I laughed with him in agreement.  I couldn't have worded it better.  It may sound like such an ungrateful thing to write but I really don't care.  Its the truth.  My happiest thoughts are of home.  My joy to just be free of the confines of the boat and my sleepless schedule has no preference for the piece of land that will furnish that. 

I am having breakfast in bed watching CNN now in my hotel room catching up on my world news.  I have been here the last two days enjoying the large bed, the nights full of sleep, and the beautiful Fiji sunsets by the pool. The Myna birds have been chirping loudly outside my window since sunrise and I can hear hotel staff dropping off newspapers and trays to rooms around.  I took a stroll early this morning wishing I had brought a sweater.  Mornings and evenings are chilly and overcast.  It is not as warm here as I had thought it would be and that is a pleasant surprise.  Returning to my room, I set myself to write this blog that I am just now able to write.  My whole reason in beginning this blog was to go out into the world and to write about what truths I experience as well as to learn through other people and their view of truth. I have hesitated because it has not been the most positive of experiences getting here.  It has been hard and I have learned that my sanity is perhaps more fragile than I had previously thought.  I have to be okay with the fact that not all truth is some beautiful story wrapped up with a line of gratefulness at the end.  Sometimes it is an open-ended story with no resolution or maybe one that may not come for a long time.   It is, however, better that I wrote this blog now and did not send out the myriad of depressing writings that dotted my trip and just say that they were there and leave it at that.   

I am so very very grateful to all my friends and family who have posted funny videos and musings on Facebook.  I know you didn't do it for me but let me say, it was these little things that helped me or gave me a nice chuckle.  I am proud of myself for getting to where I am but mostly for the clarity this trip has given me in realizing the people and the things that truly matter to me the most in this world.  The money and the destination has faded from importance and I hope I can always see this as clearly in my life as I do right now.  I am desperately looking forward to returning home for a couple weeks in December and hugging my dear loved ones who were next to me each dark night of this journey.  In the darkness, they are the stars that truly shine the brightest. 

From a Pollywog to a Shellback

Day 1 began with a bit of hoopla, the crew up early and excited, anxious for the day to begin and the trip to commence.  Sandra and I skipped around the main salon singing, "We're leaving today, we're leaving today!" I cooked breakfast sandwiches, stowed dry goods, and made lunch amidst fire drills, abandon ship drills and the rest of the crew stowing away all loose furniture and equipment.  The energy was high, the crew in a tizzy moving around quickly as we waited like children for Santa for our last UPS shipments before we could take off.  After several hours of waiting, time lapsed and we became deflated and impatient eating our lunch sighing. Not too much later, however, we finally took off for the 2 1/2 week first leg of our trip across the Pacific en route to Tahiti.   The crew of Oberon, a yacht full of crew we had become friends with and enjoyed a weekly game or two of rugby with, threw us our lines and waved goodbye.  We were finally off!  Not wanting to miss a memory of the event, I photographed something fierce and recorded video of my crew mates to the point of annoyance.   Anxious and slightly apprehensive of what the seas would bring on our venture, we talked about what we thought the following weeks would do to our psyche and if we might encounter an unforeseen storm.  After a long day of rising and falling emotions, packing away and stowing of breakables, and goodbye phone calls while still in range, we finally nestled cozily into the forward guest cabins we would reside in while underway.  Since our normal crew cabins are situated at the bow of the boat, we move further back into the less tumultuous cabins when we do long crossings, which makes it all that much easier for the voyage ahead and lessens the chance of getting tossed out of bed by a large wave.  Finally…we were underway.

We spent a little less than a month in the States, too short in my opinion.  The crew however were itching to get out to sea again and the truth of it is, a little part of me was as well.  After so much time in simple lifestyles outside the U.S. without the spoilings of wifi, shopping malls, and coffee shops on every corner, we learned to appreciate more and to bond with each other better.  It seemed the more convenient life became and the easier to acquire what we wanted, the more independent of each other and the more we indulged.  I cannot leave the U.S. with ungratefulness though. We were sustained and able to fuel up in many ways, seeing family and friends.  I also cannot complain about being in San Diego.  Being one of my favorite cities in the U.S., it did not disappoint with its predictably great weather and laid back ease.  I know I will be back there, though, as I always somehow end up.

Now it is nine days in and we are starting to become a little restless.  Though the days go by quick, it is a fog of a life to live in constant physical motion, waking up at odd hours each day as our watch schedules shift, yet eating at the same times. Sometimes it feels like you get up to eat and have watch and the rest is in bed.  I finished my watch yesterday morning at 7am, went back to bed for a few hours, woke back up to prepare meals for the day, then went back to bed for another few hours.  I try to do a workout everyday but sometimes when the seas are rough, there is no way to maintain balance.  And to be quite honest…motivation takes a back seat after a while.  Mostly we lie in our cabins reading books or watching movies.  Everyone stocked up on their favorites so the boat has become a dvd exchange community this last week.  Late at night on watches my partner and I sit listening to audiobooks we chose together at the start of the trip.  We are currently listening to The Travels of a T-Shirt in a Global Economy and just finished The Monk Who Sold His Ferrari.  It helps to pass the time and allows the mind to wander, which is imperative right now. I also downloaded a constellation app on my phone and spend many nights figuring out what group of stars I am looking at while listening to French language lessons.  Two more months at sea and I could be a scholar!  A crazy one…

My bunkmate Kate rooms with me and it is kind of like camping out.  We arrive at different times to our bunks but each day there is always a time where we reminisce over our boredom and talk about what we will do when we reach land.  She is positive and funny and it is personalities like hers and my watch partner Chris  that make an ocean crossing easier. I certainly offer no complaint of the trip except for the boredom and anxiousness to see land but that is a given.  We have been so ridiculously lucky on this crossing and I dare say the smoothest ride I have ever had on any boat underway.  Each day has gone by smoother than the last and this is unheard of for a Pacific crossing.  Nightmares and conversations of what may happen weeks before of high seas, waves crashing over the beam, and unbearable seasickness are only nightmares.  They are forgotten and replaced with a calm, a serenity, and a smooth sail across small ripples and brightly lit starry skies.  We have caught a few Mahi Mahi which have made for some delicious fish tacos, fried fish dishes, and fresh grilled lunches.  The crew are in good spirits and we are experiencing no personality conflicts, no drama, and lots of laughter.  As I have written in earlier blogs, you really know the metal your crew mates are made of by how they handle situations like this.  And I am honored to be amongst so many strong and determined souls.  I learn so much from each of them everyday and I hope they can say the same of me.  Each of the boys have taken a night to cook a meal to allow me to do my watch or to give me a break, which I find so darn sweet.  Tomorrow night we are having an "appetizer night" and each person will come up with their own personal favorite.

  In two days we will be crossing the equator and since Kate and I have never crossed the equator at sea, we are going to take part in an old British and American Navy and Marines ritual called the Pollywog Ceremony.  It is a bit of a silly tradition but a long standing one that initiates the "pollywogs" into Neptune's protection.  In order to receive our certificate, (yes, there are real certificates for this) the captain and first mate pour fish guts and all sorts of stinky garbage on us.  Then we will have to kiss a dead fish, do some embarrassing relays, and pour a bottle of champagne out in honor of Neptune.  Once this is complete we swim across the equator and we are initiated into Neptune's protection.  We then get to lose the title of "pollywog" and become "shellbacks."  I think the boys are overly excited to pour garbage on us and I am just excited to get off the boat for a swim.  Kate is terrified of swimming in the middle of the ocean so it may just be me.  But I don't care.  All in all, it will be a fun day and one I am sure I will remember for the rest of my life.

And so we move forward and once we reach Tahiti we will be halfway to New Zealand. Only a couple days ago the swell has picked up and we are a little more tired from having to balance as we walk as well as the watch schedules getting to us.  I can see that by next week when we arrive in Tahiti, we will all be jumping off the boat and ready for a much needed break before we continue on for another 10 days to Fiji.  Thankfully, our captain is giving us a few days off to stretch our legs, lay on a beach, and take some necessary alone time beforehand, as well as fuel up the boat and restock some fresh produce.   I realize that as I am writing about these adventures and that I am going to Tahiti and Fiji I sound incredibly spoiled and lucky.  I cannot deny those accusations.  I truly am.