Wednesday, October 31, 2012

Chesterfield Reef

Lying almost smack-dab right in between Vanuatu and the eastern Australia Coast is the 75-mile long, apostrophe-shaped reef of Chesterfield. Since it's claimed by New Caledonia and therefore the French, all of the islands that make up the reef have French names: Ilot Brampton in the north, Ilot Reynard to the east and Ile Longue, which is v-shaped and in the southern part and that's where we're anchored. The shape gives us perfect protection from the southeast trade winds although we're anchored far enough from shore that there's enough fetch to make riding in the dinghy a wet affair.

We arrived yesterday morning after being hove to for about seven hours about 12 miles from the entrance. The water shoals gradually so the color of the water changes gradually as well. From the dark, midnight blue to the almost-clear water at the shore, the water is a perfect spectrum of the color. The bomies (coral heads that rise up from the ocean floor - that can easily hole a boat at worst or foul an anchor chain at minimum - I don't know where the term comes from but it's an easy way to scare cruisers away from a particular anchorage: "Lots of bomies there, mate," and it's likely that boat will find an anchorage somewhere else) were widely spaced and easily recognized amongst the soft sand. No sooner had we dropped the hook but Corie had her mask, snorkel and fins on and was in the water. She checked out the bomies near us, pronounced they were too deep to be an issue and then swam over to Merkava where she had a beer with Mark. After all, it was after noon somewhere.

The shore is teeming with birds and we can hear their non-stop squawking 24 hours a day. Corie and Ruthie went with Mark to explore the narrow strip of land that is Ile Longue where they found some exquisite shells but also copious quantities of bird shit (we can smell that from the boat 24 hours a day, too). Later in the day Corie and Mark went snorkeling and returned saying it was some of the best snorkeling they had ever done with more and larger fish than they had ever seen. Our friend, Bill, on Dilligaf, said he saw a brown sea snake, which is one of the most poisonous and there are many jelly fish hanging around the boats. We had cocktails aboard Dilligaf and those aboard Tenaya, a 40' Hallberg-Rassy, were invited as well. We had to row there as our outboard is buried deep in the lazarette (too bad Dilligaf was anchored so far away from us! Up wind, too!). I brought my last bottle of single-malt scotch which we all enjoyed. Corie stayed on board and made Hawaiian pizza with pineapples we had bought in Vanuatu. As I fancy myself as something of a pizza connoisseur, I can say without qualifications that hers is amongst the best.
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At 10/31/2012 9:02 PM (utc) Rutea's position was 19°52.96'S 158°27.87'E

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Tuesday, October 30, 2012

Vanuatu to Australia - Day Four

In anticipation of our arrival at Chesterfield Reef, our calculations showed that we'd arrive sometime in the middle of the night at our current speed. The decision we faced was whether to slow down and hopefully time our arrival for the morning or whether to proceed and just heave to once we got there. As it turns out, we did both.

We reduced sail to just a double-reefed main - no head sails or mizzen - but even so, we were still making almost 5 knots. Poor Rutea! I could feel her disappointment as it was a beautiful day and here she was, being exposed to the indignity of sailing with a double reefed main when she should have had all sails up, romping to a distant destination. I later tucked a third reef into the main and whereas that slowed us down more, we still arrived at the entrance to the reef at midnight. I furled the main and hoisted the mizzen, put the wheel hard over and Rutea tucked her head under her wings and went to sleep. We don't often heave to but this was a classic application for the maneuver. For the next seven hours, we all got caught up on some much needed sleep while our boat slipped sideways at about 1 knot per hour.

We dropped the anchor in Chesterfield Reef at 1000, local time. I'll write more about that tomorrow.
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At 10/30/2012 00:07 PM (utc) Rutea's position was 19°52.97'S 159°27.88'E

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Monday, October 29, 2012

Vanuatu to Australia - Day 3

After a near-perfect day of sailing yesterday, the winds picked up right around dusk and stayed at 22-23 knots for almost the entire night. The seas increased and became choppy which made it less comfortable on board. As a swell approached Rutea's beam, she would roll to starboard and as the wave passed under her, she'd roll to port. Even with two reefs tucked in the main and the genoa reefed down, we were still healing at a good angle which intensified the rolling action. Our Speed Over Ground (SOG) was consistently over 8 knots and I even saw us hit 10 knots at one point. All that can make it hard to get a good nights sleep.

However, this morning the winds have eased to about 17 knots and the sky is clear. Chesterfield Reef is less than 80 miles away and hopefully once there we'll be able to catch up on our sleep.

Our friends on Dilligaf are less than a mile off our starboard beam and Mark on Merkava is almost 18 miles behind us - he's no longer in VHF radio range.

Our spirits are good and Rutea's systems continue to operate well. Other than eating too much (Australia's BioSecurity is going to confiscate almost all the food on board when we arrive so we're working hard at depleting our ship-board inventory), we're having a great time.
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At 10/29/2012 10:07 PM (utc) Rutea's position was 19°11.00'S 159°36.00'E

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Sunday, October 28, 2012

Vanuatu to Australia - Day 2

We have slipped into our passage-making patterns, this time being easier than most because our conditions are so good. Flat seas, a steady breeze and all the systems working as they should. At 0400 this morning, we made our turn to our current course of 231°M, which allowed us to clear Huon Reef. This puts us on course for Chesterfield Reef which is about halfway between Vanuatu and Australia. It's about 36 hours away and will give us a break before we make the final push into Bundaberg, Queensland. We've been told that there's a good, sheltered anchorage there, albeit out in the middle of nowhere. There's suppose to be a lot of birds that hang out there - we might spend a few days at Chesterfield, which is part of New Caledonia. At our current speed we'll arrive there in the middle of the night so we're going to have to slow ourselves down as we never enter a new-to-us anchorage in the dark.

Our friends on Dilligaf have pulled ahead of us by a couple of miles and our friend Mark on Merkava is now about 12 miles behind us but we're all still close enough to talk on the VHF radio. Other than them, we've only seen a couple of fishing boats.

Our spirits remain high although the conversation often reverts to how much we miss Mexican food. However, we're tough and we can rise to any challenge. If you get a chance, though, drop us a note with a detailed description of your last carne asada burrito. Thanks.
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At 10/28/2012 10:45 PM (utc) Rutea's position was 17°52.00'S 162°15.00'E

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Saturday, October 27, 2012

Vanuatu to Australia - Day One

I awoke yesterday morning with a groan. The display at the head of our bunk showed True Wind Speed (TWS) at 0.0. Our weather forecaster had promised light winds for our first day of our passage but zero wind meant long hours of motoring and burning up our expensive and acquired-with-much-difficulty fuel (to fill Rutea's two 90-gallons tanks, we have to load our 5-gallon 'jerry jugs' into the dinghy, motor to the beach, carry the empty jugs to the road, take a taxi into town, fill the jugs <almost US$8.00/gallon>, find a taxi willing to haul us and our fuel back to the road that leads to the beach, wade out to the dinghy in water up to our waists carrying the 40-pound jugs, lift them up to Rutea's deck, dump the fuel into the tanks and then repeat until our tanks are full - it can take days to complete the process).

While Ruthie and Corie caught a few more winks of sleep, I made a batch of banana muffins (the once bright green stalk that has hung in our galley has been reduced to a fraction of it's original size and the remaining bananas are mostly black with some yellow streaks) and got us ready to get underway. Motoring out of the Segond Channel our Speed Over Ground (SOG) was less than 2 knots as we bucked a strong current but once clear of land we resumed our normal motoring speed of almost 6 knots per hour. The wind had picked up slightly but was still less than 7 knots so we motor-sailed until I got the idea to hoist our spinnaker. Once up, we cut the engine and were making 5+ knots per hour and when the wind increased to about 10 knots, Rutea got a bone in her teeth and began to see over 7 knots. The seas were flat calm and other than the overcast sky, it was near ideal conditions.

Traveling with us are Mark on Merkava and Bill and Sue on Dilligaf. We seem to be almost perfect cruising companions as we tend to stay within a few miles of each other.

As the sun was starting to set, we doused the spinnaker and unfurled the genoa. The wind remained around 10-11 knots and the seas flat - the almost-full moon meant near daylight visibility. Since it was so calm, I went below and whipped up a batch of Chicken Cacciatore, using a sauce that I had made a few days earlier. I sautéed the plump chicken breasts in olive oil until they were golden brown and then added quartered onions, bell peppers and black olives before I poured the sauce over. I served it to us in large bowls over bow-tie pasta and even though the tropical heat was making us sweat, the steaming dinner hit the spot.

Because the seas are so flat, sleep came easy. I was enjoying my watch so much that I let Corie have an extra hour of sleep before I got her up for her watch at 0100. When I got up at 0530, I found that we had passed Merkava and Dilligaf sometime during the night. The seas and wind remained constant. In our first 24 hours we covered 144 miles which is not bad for light winds. We hoisted the spinnaker again this morning and with 10 knots of wind we're making over 7 knots. The sun is out and the solar panels are cranking the amps into our battery banks. None of us can remember a passage with conditions that are this good.
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At 10/27/2012 10:46 PM (utc) Rutea's position was 16°36.00'S 164°47.00'E

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Wednesday, October 24, 2012

The Next Big Leap of Rutea

Querida Familia-

We just received the thumbs up from our ace weather router, Bob McDavitt (a NZ character) to jump off from Luganville, Espiritu Santo, Vanuatu to Bundaberg, Australia this Saturday (the 27th of October)! This is a big deal because not only is it our last blue water passage for 2012 but we will no longer be sailing in the Pacific Ocean! After 11,505 miles of sailing through the north and south Pacific Ocean, we will jump off and head across the Coral Sea which is bordered by Vanuatu, Northern Australia, Soloman Islands and Papua New Guinea! The Coral Sea contains the Great Barrier Reef and is the spawning grounds of the cyclones that terrorize the tiny island nations of the south pacific. The sea temp (at least where we are now) is 85 degrees but nobody swims in the western Coral Sea north of the Great Barrier Reef because its inhabitants include LOTS of great white sharks, Box Jelly Fish, Salt Water Crocodiles and Sea Snakes! Queensland, where we are headed, and south to the Gold Coast, boasts some of the best surfing, snorkeling and diving in the world and we are excited about exploring this new-to-us part of the world! We plan to stop along the way at Chesterfield Reef, a teeny, tiny reef/atoll about half way from where we are to Oz (as they call it) for a rest, diving and snorkeling. We will be traveling with three other boats: Merkava (Canadian), Geramar (Dutch) and Dilligaf (American).

Vanuatu has been a fascinating, National Geographic experience. To see people living the way their ancestors did has been such an eye opener- and lots of people here live that way. Almost everyone who does not live in the capital, Port Vila, or the former capital, Luganville lives very, very simply. The national dish, Lap-lap, is taro with coconut milk poured over it, wrapped in banana leaves and cooked under dirt and hot stones in the ground. Giant bamboo is still used for cooking over wood fires or for dishes or for clothes pins. Coconut Palms provide thatch for roofs, water for refreshment, milk for essential recipes, and shells for kava. Kava. That is a whole story in and of itself. I'm sure we have told you of kava in bits and pieces, but suffice it to be described as chugging muddy water, without breathing, feeling your tongue and teeth go numb as you try not to throw up, and then trying to relax into a state of indepth star gazing. Villages are known for special talents. Some villages perform traditional dance and singing. Some villages host the island school. Some villages specialize in magic (black magic and white magic). All villages have a church and most people are dressed in raggedy, missionary provided hand me downs. All kids have runny noses which their moms wipe off with their fingers. Most kids have a cough. The poverty is staggering. BUT, everyone has been more than kind, friendly, eager to share what they have and CURIOUS! I have had more than one kid rub my arm up and down to see if the white comes off and our hair has been a source of hours of entertainment! Of course people are very interested in Neal's hair because it looks like theirs does! They love it when he tells them that he is part Ni-Van!

Yesterday we endured one of the hardest parts of the cruising experience. We had to say good-bye to our dearest friends on Sarah Jean II as we parted ways. We have sailed with SJ2 since we left Mexico in 2011 and shared anchorages, dinners, hikes, boat problems, boat projects, snorkels and new countries for the past year and a half. We have encouraged each other onward in hard times, analyzed weather patterns, traded boat parts, felt safety in our numbers, talked about kids and parents and made memories to last a lifetime. SJ2 headed south for New Zealand for this cyclone season and will head back to Canada via Hawaii next cruising season, as we head west to Oz, Indonesia and Thailand. Making new and dear friends is one of the best parts of cruising, but saying good-bye to them is one of the hardest. That would be true of course, anywhere. You never want to let a kindred spirit go!

Back to Passage Preparation! The list is long but Neal has climbed the mast and checked the rigging. Jack lines are run. Genoa is patched. Tri-light is rewired. Nav lights are tested. Hand-held radios are charged. Bilge pumps are tested. Tri Sail is bent to the mast. Ditch Bag is updated. Boat bottom and prop are clean. Water and fuel tanks are full. Visas for Oz have been printed out. Steering is inspected. We have frozen bananas, banana cookies and banana muffins! Passage meals are being prepared and frozen. Our course has been plotted and we are studying our weather grib files. Just a couple more provisions to buy, a visit to Immigration and Customs to check out of the country, a visit to the duty free liquor store and we will be ready!

We will miss a couple of BIG dates while we are en route! The first is Ian's 30th Birthday on November 3rd! OMG! Please wish him well on his next decade! The second is the election.... YES, we have voted but we are still on pins and needles.... And of course, we miss YOU! Hopefully cell phone calls to the US won't be as expensive in Australia as they have been in Vanuatu! Airline tickets are also reasonable and we will be there for quite a while, so if you want to come visit, book your cabin now!

As always, we wish you Fair Winds and Calm Seas wherever you may be and whatever you may be doing.

R of Rutea and Crew
15.34.37 South
167.12.30 East
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At 10/24/2012 8:37 AM (utc) Rutea's position was 15°31.37'S 167°09.90'E

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Friday, October 12, 2012

Kastom Dancing

The village of Lutes on the island of Lukienuen has been a gracious host to our flotilla of boats that has now grown to six. As we were sailing from Epi Island, David on Riada II caught a 250-pound marlin and towed it all the way into the anchorage as it was too heavy for them to hoist aboard their Davidson 46. That afternoon, they towed it into the village and it appeared that everyone turned out to watch the massive fish being cut up and divided amongst everyone. We were told that they had never seen a fish that big.

The next day we were given a tour of the island, one more time hiking through a thick tropical jungle. As we continue north, the temperature and humidity increase, taking just minutes for me to be completely soaked in sweat. Our tour culminated in a ride through the mangroves where narrow channels through the brush and trees provide just enough room for the dinghies, sometimes with the outboard tilted up.

After a brief respite aboard our respective boats, we went back to shore and assembled near some bungalows which were built in hopes of attracting tourists (my take is that it would require unusual tourists as the conditions and amenities are extremely rustic - no water or electricity and I doubt you'd find a mint on your pillow at night - much more likely you'd find some enormous, indescribable insect on it). We were lead through a grove of coconut palms and then along a narrow path to a small clearing in the bush. A man wearing a small namba (a woven penis sheath) held on by a thin woven string, his face blackened from burnt coconut shells, came out and greeted us. "You are welcome to watch our dancing," he said with a grin and dashed back into the bush. Moments later, the rhythmic sounds of wood against wood and rattles shaking could be heard from where the man had just disappeared and soon a procession of about 20 men, dancing and singing, wound their way into the clearing. It wasn't precisely choreographed but the movements for most of the men were similar although some appeared to be 'dancing to a different drummer'. Their costumes were varied but all wore the small namba - some had head dresses with leaves in them and some had leaves tucked into the string that held on their namba. One of the oldest men wore a necklace of yellow palm fronds, which was set off by his white hair and beard. They did several dances for us, none of them lasting more than a couple of minutes. Once the performance was over, the men ducked back into the bush and returned wearing their everyday shorts and t-shirts. They shook hands all around, us saying "Sipa!" ('thank you' in the local dialect) and them replying with "Evoy!" (which you also use as 'hello'). Bill on Dilligaf had taken video of the entire dancing and played it back for the men on the camera's small screen. They whooped and hollered as they saw themselves on the screen for what I believe may have been the first time for most of them to see their moving images captured.

We returned to the area of the bungalows where a table had been set up with coconuts and fresh mangos, both of which were delicious and refreshing. From there, the entire group walked across the island to the village's nakamal and had a bowl of kava, 100 vatu (about US$1.00) for a huge bowl. It was strong kava but still tasted awful and I had to drink mine with several stops instead of 'chugging' it as is the traditional way. Face it, I'm not very good at drinking kava.

Dinner that night was on board Riada II where David and Carolyn served up huge portions of the marlin they had caught. The sky is very clear and the stars brilliant.
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At 10/12/2012 9:24 PM (utc) Rutea's position was 16°32.41'S 167°50.20'E

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Procrastination

I was going to do a blog post about procrastination but I think I'll put it off.
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At 10/9/2012 9:06 PM (utc) Rutea's position was 16°35.74'S 168°09.81'E

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Tuesday, October 9, 2012

Lamen Bay

It was almost the perfect passage from Efate Island to Epi Island: A southeasterly breeze filled in early and soon all of Rutea's working sails (genoa, staysail, main and mizzen) where pulling like a team of mules. The seas were calm and although we could see squalls not too far away, none of them hit us. Just as we reached the south end of Epi Island the wind dropped (as we expected it to) and a 30-pound wahoo hit the brand new lure that we had been dragging the entire 60 miles. We dropped our anchor in Lamen Bay near the north end of the island, a wide, sandy-bottomed anchorage that gives excellent protection from the prevailing winds. Our friends on Sarah Jean II offered to be the host boat for dinner and the crews from Riada II and Merkava enjoyed a fabulous dinner of barbequed wahoo with all the fixings. Corie found a recipe for making pickled ginger (a must for sushi and sashimi) and I don't think we'll ever be able to enjoy the store-bought kind again.

As we made our way back to Rutea (way past Cruiser Midnight - about 9pm), we saw an orange glow in the northeastern sky. At first we thought it was the moon rising but later realized that it was the glow from the erupting volcano on Ambrym Island, less than 20 miles away. That's probably going to be our next stop but it remains to be seen whether we'll climb the volcano - our guide book says it's a six-hour hike through the jungle, each way.

Yesterday we went in pursuit of finding a dugong, also known as a sea cow, a mammal that is know to frequent these parts. We tried snorkeling in several different parts of the island, even traversing the pass in our dinghy to Lamen Island but with no luck. Beth from Sarah Jean II was back in the water with her snorkel gear on once we got back to where our boats are anchored and suddenly started to shout, "Dugong! Dugong!" Within seconds, all of us had our snorkel gear donned and were in the clear water, watching this 15-foot, one-ton, torpedo-shaped whale (we're not sure if it's a whale or not - can someone with internet access fill us in, please?) feed along the bottom, right under out boats. It was moving slowly, a wake of stirred-up sand flowing from it's head, as it vacuums the sea bed. It seemed to ignore our presence but definitely moved out of our range once I used my underwater camera's flash. Corie did get some great shots of it and even a spectacular video.

Corie also got some great shots of the sea turtles that frequent the bay. Some of these guys must be almost four-feet in diameter and they swim lazily all around our boats, occasionally sticking their noses out of the water and appear to be checking us out. For some reason they seem to like hanging around Rutea's anchor and chain. We're not sure if that's a compliment but we're delighted to have so many of them so close.

I'll try to post some pictures once we get to Luganville but I'm not optimistic that we'll have enough bandwidth there to do so. We should be there by the 18th or 19th.
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At 10/9/2012 9:06 PM (utc) Rutea's position was 16°35.74'S 168°09.81'E

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Wednesday, October 3, 2012

Port Narvin on Erromango Island

Photo by Dick on Geramar

It wasn’t easy to tear ourselves away from the wonderful anchorage of Port Resolution on the island of Tanna but just after sunrise on the morning of 30 September we pointed Rutea’s bow almost due north to the east side of Erromango Island.  Corie again crewed for Mark on Merkava and all of us enjoyed a pleasant sail in the southeast trade winds.  Our destination was Port Narvin, a small village on the north side of Traitor’s Point, where some friends had heard that the school there was in desperate need of supplies for their schools.  While we were still in Fiji, we had stopped by a stationary store and stocked up on pencils, paper, notebooks, etc in anticipation of our visit.
Ruthie with Chief Joe
The anchorage there was far from ideal and the swells wrapped around the point so Rutea (and all the rest of the boats in our little flotilla) rolled badly while at anchor.  Sleep that night was hard to come by and we were all looking forward to getting off the boat when morning dawned.  As we made our way into shore, we could see a long line of school children excitedly watching us.  Once we landed the dink, we were greeted by the two chiefs, Joe and Andre (there’s actually two separate villages side by side and each village has it’s own chief but by all appearances its one village of about 800 people).  Because the anchorage is so poor, yachts rarely call on this port and now there were six yachts anchored in front of their village.  This had never happened before, we were told.



We were led into the school yard where the students ran around as if there was the promise of ice cream or a long vacation waiting for them.  Gradually they began to file into the small, cinderblock building which was way too small for the one hundred or so students.  The cruisers were given chairs at the head of the classroom, as if on display, and the students gawked and giggled at the collection of old, white people.  Of course, Corie commanded the most attention, being pretty, white and young.  One of the teachers spoke and the students became quiet as a line of older girls filed in with garlands of flowers that they placed around each of our necks.  We were asked to introduce ourselves.  With a guitar, one of the teachers led the students in a couple of songs where the students sang loudly and in beautiful harmony.  The principal spoke, welcoming us and then asked us to circulate through the classroom and grounds, talking to the students.  Corie was instantly mobbed by the girls who were fascinated with her hair.  Ruthie and Beth attracted large groups of students as they read books to them.  I spoke with one of the teachers who told me that there was no road that came into the village.  There is no store, no phones, no power, no doctor or nurse.  The nearest village that has some of these basic functions is a five-hour boat ride away.



After we had spent a couple of hours with the students, Chief Joe and Chief Andre offered to take us on a hike up the mountain.  Wearing only flip-flops, we started to climb the sometimes steep terrain through the jungle.  Chief Joe was barefoot.  The climb proved to be more strenuous than we had anticipated but after about an hour-and-a-half we were at the top, soaked in sweat and looking over a beautiful view of the bay where we were anchored and Cook’s Bay to the south.  Also we were looking over the foundation for a cellular tower that is in the process of being built.  Since there’s no construction equipment on the island, all of the materials are carried up by both men and women of the village.  There were maybe 1,000 sacks of crushed coral (that will be mixed with concrete), each sack weighing about 50 pounds.  There were 55 gallons drums, filled with water, which had also been carried up by hand in 5 gallon jugs, one at a time.  All of the framework and rigging for the tower had also been carried up by the people of the village.



We had been poorly prepared to make the climb, not just in terms of footwear but also we had no water or food with us.  Chief Joe left us for a few moments and returned with a half-dozen fresh coconuts tied to a stick that he carried over his shoulder.  With his machete, he opened a small hole in each one and the cool coconut water quenched our thirst and the coconut meat refreshed us.  On the way back down the mountain, Chief Joe said repeatedly, “Please don’t forget us.  Remember what we’re trying to do here.”  There was almost a pleading in his voice.

I know all of you get more requests for donations than you could ever attempt to grant and I’m very reluctant to add one more.  Regardless, this village has very few prospects – there’s no tourism on the island and yachts are few and far between.  For school supplies, someone has to travel to Efate Island, almost 90 miles away and they have a pathetic budget to work with.  All of us were very touched by this village and would like to help.  They desperately need computers, school supplies and books and I don’t think donations of cash would make it to the right people.  I’m willing to pay for the freight to Vanuatu if you’d be willing to donate anything else – a ream of paper, an old computer that you no longer use, some children’s books or PC educational software (they’d especially like a set of encyclopedias on CDs).  If you can find it in your hearts to send something, I’d be grateful.  Please send it to my home in San Diego and I’ll volunteer my daughter, Caity, to organize the shipment.

Birthday Cheesecake from Tricia on Geramar 
We left Port Narvin later that day, my birthday, and traveled overnight to the island of Efate and the capital of Vanuatu, Port Vila.  We once again have internet access, stores, restaurants and traffic.  From here we’ll continue north before we have to decide whether to sail directly west to Australia or south first to New Caledonia and then Australia.  The weather will impact our final decision.