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.

The Importance of Home

My room is full of fading sunlight and I lay in bed attempting to sleep.  I just finished cooking dinner for the crew after a 4 hour watch and I will be on watch again at 1am till 5am.  My sleep schedule is off and yet so onto the circadian rhythm that it won't allow me to sleep with this light.  We drag ourselves up and down the stairs in opposing schedules and shifts in two's to sit in the bridge for 4 hours at a time to watch out for other boats, check the radar, and keep each other awake.  Passing the crew mate whom I am replacing, I nod and take their seat as they update me on what they have seen and I sit in their spot to continue to babysit the darkness.

It may not seem like a lot of work but it messes up a sleep pattern something fierce coupled with the boats' rocking and constant motion.  An insatiable hunger and desire to snack is always there as my body is constantly expelling energy overcompensating to maintain balance in the sway of the boat.  Thankfully this is just moving the boat from one country to another and not another 2 week trip at sea with 12 guests and 17 hour work days.  We arrive to the U.S.A  finally after 9 of the busiest months I have yet experienced on a yacht and I think I may cry when the immigration agent says, "Welcome home."  I have been looking out my window to this day like a dog awaiting the rain to stop.  As much knowledge and  priceless education I have received from provisioning as a chef in remote parts of jungles and small Central American towns, I can't help but have a sigh of relief at the convenience that lie ahead.  

There is no doubt I live a privileged life and that I am experiencing things that I don't have to look back and appreciate…I DO already.  Just today a humpback whale almost ran into our bow, I suppose thinking we were another whale.  It dove down just before running into us, its large tale swatting the side of our bow as it submerged below. My crew mate and I nearly shit ourselves screaming "Oh my God, we're going to run into it!"  We hugged each other, hands running through hair nervously, laughing and gasping at our near miss and the amazing site we just witnessed.  Each day we are out at sea some new phenomenon happens that I am pinching myself over from watching lazy sea lions floating on their backs in the currents waving a flipper up at us to marlin leaping out of the water, elegant and majestic.  In the evenings, the breezes we have missed for so long whisper through our hair as we put on dusty forgotten jackets in our approach north.  Millions of stars dotted a black, moonless sky last night as we quietly sloshed through calm seas up the Mexican coast.  I smile through puffy tired eyes as I sip my tea and marvel at how beautiful this world is.  No lack of sleep can take the wonder from my eyes, regardless how tired they may be.

And so our schedule will continue but a little easier for me and I will take it!  After a couple days we will suit up for another 2 week trip packed with A-listers, dive exploration, shark experts, and scientists.  I will get to cook for a culinary icon, a musical idol, and a ridiculously accomplished film producer.   Breathe in…breathe out.  You can do this, I tell myself.  But I have to be honest…even with the wealth, privilege, and ease of the U.S…I am exhausted.  Exhausted in a way that is soul deep and brings longings and sadnesses up in dreams of things that I left behind to forget when I began this journey.  I return with a question of where those things are now and where they will go.  At the end of it all, I want to crawl to my mother's door. lay in her lap, fall asleep, and not wake up for a very long time.  To have a night of un-tossed sleep, to inhale fully the love and acceptance that I know lies there.  To somehow know I am in the arms of someone who doesn't' judge me by my looks, bank account, my age, my weight, how many calories I eat, or if the food I cook tastes good.  Just to be loved regardless and to rest in that.  To be home. It is in this return again that I miss my family so much, even though I just saw them a month ago.  It wasn't enough.  I miss my dog Tilly still.  We didn't have enough time either and I am still not over that.  I want to rest and I want to be home.  I want to rewind time and I want to fast forward it.  Maybe that's what all this travel was meant to teach me the importance of…the importance of home.   The importance of letting go as well.

La Paz...A Dream Come True

Contentment thy name is Tecolote Beach.  Sunshine is bursting out of every pore of the earth here in this dream-like heaven that lies gently and white sanded on tranquil blue waters. Except for my obvious self, the owner of this small tiki bar and his affectionate and adorable Pete-y look alike of a dog are the only other ones here.  I grab a $3 22oz beer and go to sit under one of several thatch umbrellas and enjoy the absolute human silence and plug into the sounds of nature.  It is hypnotic and unreal here. This place is everything that hurting, stressed, worried, and under slept people  should go to cure their ills because it is everything that is opposite.  The sea is a calming background symphony that's variation of pale green, to light turquoise, to deep blue sets all fires inside to cool.  A small cliff juts out at the end of the beach creating a cove-like privacy.  Seagulls hover above shallow fish and I motion my new canine friend to come over so I can pet him.  He has a dog grin on his face and rests at my feet licking them and sprawling out in the shade while I scratch his belly.  Warming up in the rising sun, I decide it is a good idea to go for a swim.  Several people have warned me of sting rays in the area so I carefully walk into the surprisingly cold water and submerse myself in the refreshing baptism.  Life is good.  This is good and all that is right with the world.  I cannot imagine why anyone would try to venture to anywhere else knowing this existed.  I am sad I am just discovering this but all the more motivated to make my way back.

Today I began my day on Alvaro Obregon, which is the main street on the waterfront in La Paz. It is another bright and sun soaked experience, the waters of the ocean aqua and moving slight waves not too far from the store fronts. The morning breezes were still cool in their breath before the impending doom of the rising heat.  Shop owners twisted keys into locked doors and aluminum gates swung open for visitors.  The local street merchants hung colorfully woven woolen blankets for tourists to buy for their imaginary donkeys back home.  Fake silver bangles clanged in the last of the morning breezes while tiny taco stands sold delicious corn tortillas with seasoned beef and fresh salsas for a dollar.  An old man with a large fanny pack walked by me with two racks of bracelets and necklaces for sale and I politely declined his lifted display.  I gathered my things after my morning coffee to drive up the coast in La Paz for some rest and relaxation alone.  I made the right decision and so fortunate to not only see this beautiful landscape but to meet its very friendly inhabitants.

The Sierra De La Laguna Mountain range is the only mountain range to speak of, though desert cliffs and dramatic clay-like ledges rise out of the beautiful waters in stark red and sand colored contrast to the clear cobalt hue of the ocean.  I cannot help but compare it to the geography of the coast of Egypt and maybe that is why I feel so much at home here, reminded of my childhood on the Red Sea.  The ocean life is spectacular with seasonal visits from a variety of whale species, whale sharks, seals, and a vast spectrum of fish and dolphins.  Due to the local school for marine biology, so many of the people I have had the pleasure to talk to have a passion for these creatures and for their conservation.  It is sadly being threatened by human impact, commercial fishing, and pollution due to the dewatering of freshwater sources like the Colorado River.  However, it is still bursting with life in a way I haven't seen since my childhood with rays sticking wings in the air and jumping out of the water, sea lions galore spawning new baby pups each season, bull sharks returning to the protected waters of Espiritu Santo, and schools of colorful Jacks and fat Parrot Fish munching away on corral.  I have never felt so moved towards a cause of conservation as I have in working here. I imagine it would be very difficult for anyone to feel otherwise once experiencing this beauty.

Finally in my travels I am truly feeling content and satiated. The term "save the best for last" could not be truer .  Of all the places in Latin America…and possibly the world…this is the one I like best.  I find myself entertaining thoughts of a future life here.  I picture myself joining the locals walking to work each day and resting in the cooling evening sunsets.   La Paz…The Peace…could not be more appropriately named.  It is a beautiful coastal town with raging hot days and beautifully breezy cool nights.  It is dry and quiet, simple but special in a spiritual and secret way I struggle to name, almost as if I am not meant to. It just is. To be here is to feel that something magical and comforting walks beside you.  It is the simple and pure life.  Once again…man…I have SO MUCH to be grateful for. 

A much needed nap.

Our guests left early a few days ago.  Tired crew drug tired feet in covering the boat back up in its protective tarps, saran wrapping of trays and glassware, and an emptying of garbage and remnants to conclude work.  I prepared my last lunch for the week. Sighing heavy exagerated sighs we gathered in the crew mess to toast a beer to the end of our long line of trips in Central America.  We vented, we laughed, we enjoyed a few more beers, said a few more cheers, then climbed back into our beds for the long awaited after-trip nap.   The boat was finally silent again except for the sounds of heavy breathing and snoring.  I slept 4 hours, got up and ate some snacks, caught up on Game of Thrones, went back to bed for 3 more hours and would have gladly slept through the rest of the night if Jacob hadn't made me get up to eat dinner.  We shuffled along the marina restaurant line to a small table, sat down, and quietly sipped our beers. The sun sets around 8 pm in La Paz taking the days' heat with it.  I sat in the cooling evening breeze with my friend and we had our unwinding and usual after-trip conversation.  Crew need to vent to each other about guests.  And then crew need a crew mate to vent to about crew.  Jacob is always my safety for that.  With a little more weight off our shoulders, weary smiles, and a bag of take-away food, we made our way back to the boat, ate our dinners, then headed off to separate beds for more sleep.

This last trip was the end of a long line of trips and the first time we have been able to truly rest in a while.  After recovering from our first Cocos Island trip, we prepared and planned our second venture back to bury treasure.  A fun and physically challenging trip, the treasure was finally buried after a couple weeks and we said goodbye to our guests for a second time.  We got the boat ready again, provisioned for our week, and buckled down for sea.  Saying goodbye to our almost year long stay in Costa Rica, we then made a 6 day trip to Puerto Vallarta in rough weather.  It was a sleepless, physically exhausting trip rocking our bodies back and forth in our attempted sleep.  My poor crew mate who has the unfortunate issue of seasickness, lay pale faced and moaning for the majority of the time.  We changed course closer to the coast a couple days in and the waves, which were around 4 meters at this time, hit us on our starboard side.  I remember waking up that morning for my watch and falling immediately over on my face.  Sometimes you learn the change of direction the hard way!  Shaking it off, I walked uphill out of my cabin and climbed on hands and knees up the stairs to my seat in front of the radar to join my crew mate for the morning watch.   Afterward, I spent a good portion of the day in the galley preparing desserts, appetizers, and sauces for the upcoming trip, while avoiding clanging and banging cupboards that came to life with each large swell rolling beneath us.  The camera equipment and books on shelves were thrown into the salon as the wave height increased and I hurried to finish crew dinner amidst sloshing boiling water pots.  As tired as a person can be in these conditions with their body in constant movement and overcompensation, I must oddly admit I live for these moments at sea.  I never feel more alive than when I am at a loss for control in this way.  However, the amount of exhaustion it added to an already exhausted crew was too much for what lie ahead.  We needed more time.  

Upon arrival we provisioned for 1 day, ran around town finding fish markets, produce provisions, a mariachi band and decorations for our new guests' arrival, prayed for a miracle to get our internet up again after a lightning storm at sea, and then welcomed new guests onboard for another trip.  As excited as we were to be in Mexico finally, we welcomed guests on a half tank of gas…maybe less.  As my crew mate Sandra so eloquently put it, "Oh my God Sarah.  No one is young enough for this shit.  I am beginning this next trip feeling worse than the end of the last trip!"  And I couldn't have agreed more.  I knew we would be exhausted for this last trip but truly had no idea how much. To think a couple months ago we stared down the barrel of the buried treasure expeditions, the preparations to move the boats' 1 year in Costa Rica and Panama north, to begin new steps out of the jungle and closer to U.S. soil.  And now this journey is over.  

 Like a climber at the base of steep plans, we looked up the mountain fearing the exhaustion and insanity of the schedule that was ahead of us.  And as much as it was to get through, I am proud to say we are stronger than we thought we would be and we are closer than ever before because of it.  My heart went out to the boys because we had to change our trip itinerary last minute due to Hurricane Amanda.  So planning down the drain, they scrambled to reroute our trip and Soccoro Island became the Sea of Cortez. Each day the strongest person was a role carried by someone new and the weakest leaned heavily.  However, despite it all, they pulled through and we are here on this day now. We are finally in La Paz and have the next couple months to recharge our batteries, to enjoy the convenience of supermarkets, to take some much needed time off, and to breathe a little easier. 

There is so much I can say about my experiences, so much that runs through my mind when I am in the middle of cooking, and of course a lot of questions asked by friends about what the people are like that I serve.  Really at the end of the day, it can be summed up by saying I am blessed to meet some amazing and talented people.  We work hard to be given the opportunity to celebrate the life we are lucky to live. Our guests are always interesting people with unique passions that drive them in life.  I learn so much each trip. Even as tired as we were, we had some real connections despite it. There is never a dull day and we are lucky to continue these relationships and friendships beyond our job.  I am proud of myself and my crew mates.  I am grateful for my job and I look forward to the next round of adventures ahead.  For now though…this chick is dead on her feet.  Adventure can wait.  I'm going back to sleep!