EYE of the World Crew Journal - Adam

Fin

2011-04-19T20:12:00.000-07:00

When going off on some grand adventure, there are always some expectations. Before this voyage, I expected beautiful islands, stunning sunsets, lots of water, interesting food, and great memories. The trip lived up to those expectations and more; but looking back - I learned some unexpected things as well:

- After a long crossing, land smells like warm, moist, potting soil.

- There's a lot of floating garbage in the ocean. Even days away from land, we usually were never more than 10 minutes from a random piece of plastic, a shoe, and once even a suitcase. (We turned around to pick the suitcase up.)

- Despite the fact that the rest of the world doesn't necessarily agree with USA foreign policy, I felt that as American travelers we were universally welcomed.

- Random strangers in the world can be very friendly. Government officials in other countries can cause needless headaches.

- We were proud to not have an outboard engine for our dinghy for the first half of the trip, but when we were given one in Australia, no one complained.

- Other cruisers sort themselves to different parts of the world by type. There's a distinct "Georgetown, Bahamas" type, a "Pacific Crosser" type (which sorts themselves into one, two, or three year Pacific transiters, "Australian Cruisers," and "Rally Sailors."

- You don't need 'things' in life: I used less than half of the stuff I brought on board with me. The rest grew mold.

- Other cruiser nationalities (my observations), ranked by quantity: 1) Americans, 2) British, 3) Australian, 4) Polish, 5) Austrian, 6) Swedish/Norwegian, 7) Dutch, 8) French.

- Nothing is as hard as it seems, but many things take a lot hard work.

There are countless more memories and lessons from the trip that I will always carry with me. Now that I'm back in the USA, I'm returning to work as an economist. However, I hope that my experiences will give me a new perspective in my work.

Finally, thanks to everyone that followed along throughout the voyage. It was a sincere pleasure sharing everything we could with all of you.

Fair winds.

Back in Poland

2011-03-28T08:35:00.000-07:00

As many of you may know, my family is from Poland. Although I was born in Virginia, my parents were born in Poland and moved to the US in 1976. Almost all of our extended family lives in Poland - spread across the cities of Gdansk, Kielce, Wroclaw, and more. EYE of the World's stop in Poland was a chance to meet up with many of my family and friends who live there.

I've been back to Poland several times - usually in summers. Although I've never actually lived in Poland, I know my way around Gdansk fairly well. We were hosted by my cousin Marcin in Sopot, and spent our time there rushing from house to house, visiting friends and family. Each had a large meal waiting for us and it was pleasant to see them all.

Some highlights of our time in Gdansk:

- My Aunt Basia lives on the 5th floor of an old apartment building, and starting the day after we arrived, the elevator was closed for repairs - for seven weeks! We spent our first day helping her buy groceries for her seven weeks of forced confinement, and visited her once per day while we were there.

- Back in Malaysia, we meet up with my friend Witek (who was doing some world-traveling of his own). He flew back to Poland from his own visit to Sri Lanka and is now living in Gdansk. We met up and we shared stories from our adventures. His friend Krzysztof is studying to become a tour guide in the Gdansk Old Town, so he gave us a private preview tour of the city!

- Although it was very short notice and he was very busy, my friend Marius met up with us one evening and we caught up.

- We went out and walked down the snowy beach and frozen Baltic with Marcin's large (but gentle) rottweiler "Tanner" (affectionately called 'Gruby' or 'fatty' in Polish).

All in all, a good, but short trip back!

S/V Quest

2011-02-22T01:11:00.000-08:00

Note: I had written this before the tragic events that befell the crew of the Quest.

An American yacht with four people onboard was recently captured by pirates in the Indian Ocean. Although we didn't know them personally, our paths overlapped in Galle.

Since the first sailboats trickled out of Sri Lanka, I had been watching the news and my email nervously to see if they would all make it.

Since the attack, there have been few developments, but the news certainly has received quite a bit of press (more so than the 38 commercial ships attacked by pirates in January). Many of these news stories have public comment areas, and I have found many of them critical of Quest's decision to transit pirate waters. Some have related it to the incidents involving the American backpackers that have been arrested in Iran and North Korea.

Although I will not comment on my feelings concerning Quest's decision, I do want to shed some light on the cruiser thought process.

Sailing around the world starts as a dream. After sufficient research and thought, this dream all of a sudden sounds 'crazy enough that it might work.' Then comes the planning, personal investment, and the naysayers. In our own experience, although the vast majority of people we met were unbelievably supportive, we still encountered a fair bit of criticism. We had fellow cruisers telling us to skip locations (Bahamas, Jamaica, Colombia, Galapagos, Australia, Indonesia, Singapore), friends at home advising us on how to outfit our yacht, and people on both sides telling us to slow down or speed up (respectively). Most advice is conflicting and eventually proven incorrect.

Cruisers get accustomed to this cacophony and become rather adept at ignoring it. By the time the Indian Ocean is reached, the advice to avoid pirates sounds all too similar.

The sailors we met in Sri Lanka were all aware of the piracy situation. It didn't help that most of the information on the topic (available at noonsite.com) was woefully inadequate and outdated, but even if it wasn't, a majority of yachts would still have chosen to sail on.

And so, at the end of February each year, a group of yachts will sail westward across the Indian Ocean. The size of the group will vary, but each sailor that sails on will always be irrationally certain of themselves.

If a sailor failed to possess this trait, they would have never left home in the first place.

My Thoughts of Sri Lanka

2011-01-29T18:41:00.000-08:00

Sri Lanka was a very difficult place for us. We decided not to sail on, had to plan logistics for us and for the boat, and had a broken transmission to deal with. As if this on it's own wasn't enough, we were in Sri Lanka.

One of the things that makes traveling by sailboat so unique is that when you arrive in a country, you don't just get to play tourist. Oftentimes you have to interact with government officials and the local economy on a professional level. Whether it be buying fuel, obtaining port clearance, or hiring the services of a mechanic, you often get a very different glimpse of the country you are in. You get a sense of how easy/hard it is to do business, and how simple/complicated the bureaucracy is.

Past Examples:

Australia has some of the strictest immigration and importation requirements; however a very efficient system was set up in which the procedure was done very quickly.

Panama Canal transit is a complicated process; obtaining clearance through not only takes a fair bit of money, but several days worth of visiting many different offices throughout the city of Colon.

Dominican Republic clearance is rather benign, however officials there were very keen on extorting money and gifts or at least making life difficult for those who wouldn't bribe.

Indonesian clearance was complicated, expensive (in terms of costs and gifts), and most of the leg work has to be performed on your own (rides into town to visit many offices).

Sri Lanka is very unique (compared to the places we've been so far). Every official who boards your boat asks for gifts, but we found it easy to say no. I would venture to say that the country is relatively bribe-free. However, the bureaucracy there is incredibly stifling.

Examples:

- Mailing a package from the post office in Galle to the United States took about three hours (and none of this was spent waiting in line). Seemingly endless amounts of paperwork, signatures, and approval stamps were required just to be able to pay the required postage.

- We had to ship some transmission parts from the US to Sri Lanka (they were unavailable domestically). The parts cost about $70, not including shipping. It took four days for them to reach Colombo, the capital. DHL then informed me that the package was being held by customs for an unforeseeable amount of time. They told me the fastest way to get the parts was for me to travel to the airport in Colombo and pay the import duties myself. After a three hour train ride and two hour bus ride, I arrived at the cargo terminal of Bandaranaike International Airport. Approximately three hours later, with visits to the offices of DHL and many government officials, I was allowed to leave with the package (it was really just an envelope with two transmission pressure plates in it). The taxes and fees paid amounted to about $60 USD.

- While attempting to repair the transmission, we employed the services of a mechanic who worked for a ships-services company in Galle Harbor. This individual's main job is to maintain his company's two 30' motor launches. He came and spent some time on our boat helping with our transmission problems, but every time he walked from his end of the harbor to ours, we had to obtain a letter of approval with signatures from our port agent, the head of port security, and the harbormaster. (I heard the phrase "You have to make a letter" far too many times).

The people of Sri Lanka are generally friendly and helpful, and it is indeed a beautiful country (just check out Matt's posts about his travels!). However, the bureaucracy is unbearably stifling, forcing most people to work in the informal economy. Import regulations make sure that almost all goods are produced in Sri Lanka, but this also means that you can't purchase good, cheap things from other countries. (The 50cc Yamaha motorbike is ever-present throughout the developing world - except in Sri Lanka).

I can give the country a bit of credit - they are still recovering from a very long and painful civil war (the motivations for which are still unsettled). However, I believe an easing of business and trade restrictions would be a small step that would do a whole lot of good.

Onwards

2011-01-21T00:12:00.000-08:00

Anima III, Real Time II, ING, Miss Tippy, Margarita, Imagine, Skedaddle II, Journey, Talismane, Jacabel, Estrellita, BeBe, Miss Jody, Passage, Enchantress, Jackamy, Chalolina, Aspen, Lucy Alice, Saildance II, Fai Tira, Sur, Alexander, Mantra Asia.

These are the other sailboats that will be transiting the western Indian Ocean, Gulf of Aden, and Red Sea this season. We count many of them as very good friends. Some we met here in Sri Lanka, others in Malaysia, Indonesia, Vanuatu, Tonga, and even Panama. Everyone has been travelling on a similar route, and it is always a pleasure to pull into a port, find old friends, and share stories.

This community of cruisers has helped each other through mechanical, routing, and culinary problems throughout their journey. A circumnavigation tends to self-select sailors that are strong-willed, brave, intelligent, and friendly. Through the course of unexpected challenges, these positive traits are refined. Here in the Indian Ocean, after sailing through most of the world, these sailors are at their very best.

As we on the WTP have decided to discontinue our journey by sailboat, there's one thing that weighs heaviest on my mind. It's not that we won't be pulling into Hampton, Virginia in June and proving to myself that the world is indeed round. It's not that we won't see Egypt, the Suez Canal, or the Mediterranean by sailboat. It's not even knowing that my days aboard the WTP are numbered.

What I'm saddest about, is leaving this strong community of sailors. As they untie their lines next week and sail for their next port, I will no longer be counted among them. I'm also worried for their safety.

We've decided not to face the chance of a hijacking in the Indian Ocean. If we left here today, we would enter pirate waters in four days, and then face a serious threat to our lives and livelihoods daily until we passed Saleef in the Red Sea, nearly a month from now. That's something we don't want to deal with.

Every other sailboat in the harbor is aware of the piracy threat. Most are nervous, some are resigned, and a few are naive. We can't make decisions for them. However, as they sail forward I sincerely wish the very best for them. One month from now, I would be happiest if every sailboat made it through without any threat, thus proving our fears unfounded. I don't want to feel justified in our decision to stop by hearing that another sailboat had been captured.

On Sunday, due to visa restrictions, Matt and Amanda are flying to Istanbul. I will remain behind in Galle until the transmission is fixed and the boat is ready for its return to Malaysia. Our last holdover is an envelope of transmission parts currently being held by Sri Lanka Customs in Colombo. When everything here is finished, I will shoulder my pack, hop on a plane, and rejoin the crew in Europe.

I might be saying farewell, but it's not the end. Onwards.

And The Oscar Goes To ...

2011-01-11T14:04:00.000-08:00

Trans Atlantic Diesels has come through for us once again. After many emails back and forth, with photos attached, Marcus was able to determine which transmission we had, which drive plate we needed, and what other tools were required for the job.

Specifically, we need to replace our drive plate, which bolts to the flywheel and connects to the transmission. We also need to replace the shaft on our transmission. The drive plate replacement is relatively simple, however the transmission shaft is a bit more complex. Marcus has always provided excellent instruction by email, but for the transmission shaft job, he went above and beyond the call of duty.

We received a DVD movie of Marcus and T.A.D. technician Eric disassembling and reassembling a copy of our transmission. They go through each step, describe which tools to use (some tools, such as a 12-point socket and snap-ring pliers, were included in our package), and what to be careful not to do. Eric masterfully completes the disassembly and reassembly in an impressive 13 minutes, while also narrating and instructing!

This video gives me a new appreciation for any engineer that has designed a transmission, as well as for the high skill set of everyone at T.A.D. We haven't attempted to replace our shaft yet, but I know there's no way we would have been able to without this video.

For this year's Academy Awards, look for the following nominations:

Best Actor in a Leading Role: Eric

Best Actor in a Supporting Role: Marcus

Best Cinematography: Marcus

Best Costume Design: Eric

Best Director: Marcus

Best Documentary Short Subject: Trans Atlantic Diesels: Replacing Your Transmission Shaft

Best Writing - Original Screenplay: Eric & Marcus

Thanks T.A.D.!

An Expanding Skill Set

2010-12-27T03:39:00.000-08:00

I've always considered myself a fairly technical person. I know how to program a VCR, change the spool on a weedwhacker, and tune up my bicycle. However, I never considered myself a mechanic of any sort. I went to Jiffy Lube for my oil changes and Walmart to swap batteries.

Living on a boat requires a certain broader know-how. Our starter seized up in Vanuatu and fixing it required a day spent with various mechanics and machinists. Luckily, we had easy access to knowledgeable resources (and a vehicle). Special thanks to our friends at Trans Atlantic Diesels in Virginia who guided us through the repair process via e-mail.

While coming into Galle, we ran into another problem. As we approached the narrow entrance to the harbor, with 20 feet separating us from a wall of jagged rocks, our transmission failed. We used momentum, wind, and quick thinking to successfully moor off the proper dock (as well as giving the Navy officers onboard a frightening shock).

This repair is proving to be more complicated than our starter repair. We've determined that the splines on the female portion of our drive/damper plate have been stripped. Fixing it is requiring a much broader skill set, including:

1) Mechanic (of course guided once more by our good friends at Trans Atlantic Diesels).

2) Contortionist - the space around our engine is very small, and we wouldn't be able to work on the engine if we hadn't lost weight on our last crossing.

3) Translator - many people here speak English. Some do not, specifically a mechanic we've employed to help us. So far I think we've been able to communicate the fact that we live on a sailboat.

4) Negotiator - there are many locals seeking to provide services to the few yachts in the harbor. The unfortunate assumption made by all is that since we're Americans, we're millionaires. I wish it were the case, but it is in fact not true. We spend a lot of time telling people 'No, we don't want to go buy gems at the jewelry store.'

5) Writer - every step of the repair process has resulted in a flurry of e-mails to Trans Atlantic Diesels. We appreciate all their help, even going out of their way to help us on Christmas Day.

If any of you at home have wise bits of wisdom on how to work around our current snafu, send them along to crew@eyeotw.org. All will be appreciated!

Demand Driven Environmental Preservation

2010-12-09T15:26:00.000-08:00

Traveling through the Straits of Malacca from Malaysia to Thailand, there is a gradual, yet distinctive change in water clarity and the number of tourists. From Pangkor to Phuket, the water has changed from muddy brown with shades of grey, to shimmering emerald blue with thirty foot visibility. Similarly, we've witnessed the change from struggling tourist resorts to bustling and booming islands full of bungalows and European travelers. It would be easy to assume that water clarity and tourism were positively correlated, if not causal.

In many recreational demand studies in the US, this relationship has been shown to hold. Researchers use a tool called a 'secchi disk.' This is a simple flat disk on a string with alternating black and white quadrants - water clarity is quantified by the depth at which the disk is no longer visible. Low and behold, with all else held constant, clearer lakes get more visitors.

In a part of the world where incomes are low and tourists are a valuable source of revenue, it is empowering to see the positive impact that tourism can have on the environment. In touristy areas there is markedly less trash floating in the water, new construction projects utilize stormwater retention ponds, and open greenspace is set aside for recreation or animal habitat. There are fewer fishing boats as well, possibly due to higher incomes available in the tourist industry, thus lowering fishing effort and increasing the stock of fish (re-read our 'Econ Week' post on the Gordon Fisheries model).

Tourism's positive impact on the environment has been visible in many places on our journey:

- Snorkeling in the South Pacific has led to extensive reef preservation programs.

- Scuba diving with sharks in Fiji has made these ecologically important animals more valuable in the water than as sharkfin soup.

- Orangutan tours in Borneo have led to massive tracts of land being set aside as wildlife preserves, in turn protecting many other types of fauna and flora.

Tourism, and eco-tourism in particular, need to be embraced as effective tools for environmental preservation in the third world. However, they are only an effective 'first step.' Any biologist will tell you that water clarity can be a misleading metric for ecosystem health, and tourist-driven environmental preservation will naturally place a higher value for 'charismatic mega-fauna' such as sharks, orangutans, and crocodiles, ignoring the feebler bugs and mosses of the world.

However, in eastern Indonesia, where magnificent volcanic landscapes and beautiful beaches were marred by a layer of garbage, a couple sunburned tourists wouldn't necessarily be a bad thing.

People Make the Place

2010-12-01T20:08:00.000-08:00

Back in Indonesia, we noticed a slight knocking sound coming from the rudder whenerver we rolled in swell. After diving on it, we found out that a rudder bracket had worn itself loose and required a haulout and new bushing. This wasn't an urgent problem, but it was something we would need to fix before our next bluewater crossing. I began looking at haulout options and considered facilities in Bali, Java, Singapore, Malaysia, and Thailand.

This wasn't complicated work, but we would need a machine shop nearby (and price was an obvious factor). The yards in Bali and Java didn't have sufficient facilities, yards in Singapore and Thailand were far too expensive, and some of the Malaysian yards had disreputable operators. I did hear about a new marina near Pangkor called 'Marina Island.' They had the ability to haul us out of the water, but were new so I was uncertain of their capabilities.

Our experience there, however, was more than positive. James, the marina manager (pictured on the right, above), went out of his way at every possibly moment to make sure that everything was going smoothly. On his trips in and out of town, he routinely purchased little gifts for all the sailors at the marina (either local fruit or local pastries such as the ethnic Chinese 'Grandfather's Bread' pictured above). Not only was James always reachable by phone, his staff would stop by several times a day and check to see if there was anything we needed.

The account manager, Loi, took us into town several times to swing by an ATM, and since leaving, he's twittered us many tips on places to go and see in Penang. One of the property managers, Ali, was exceptionally friendly and went out of his way to help sailors, even though his job was unrelated to the operations of the marina.

There was a local British ex-pat retiree named Roger who kept a boat at the marina. He was a loquacious, friendly, and genuine person who made it his job to chat with all the sailors that came in and out of the marina. He gave us rides to town, filled us in on the 'down-low' of the area, and entertained us with his quips.

James set me up with the manager of a local machine shop (they call them 'foundries' in Malaysia) who did a very professional job on our rudder bushing, and even custom fit a new propeller for us for an excellent price. In the end, the work we had done on the boat could have conceivably been done at anywhere, but James, Loi, Ali, and all the staff at Marina Island were what made our visit there such a positive experience.

We were ready to untie our lines and leave once all our work was done, but we elected to stay another two days and spend Thanksgiving with our new friends. On the surface, it was just another marina, but at it's core, it was the people there that made it so much more.

Impressions One Year Out

2010-11-22T20:07:00.000-08:00

I spoke with my father on the phone the other day. We chatted about life and shared stories. He asked what I've been most surprised by during my journeys, and after thinking about it, this is what I came up with:

1) People Are Friendly.
- No matter where we've been, we've found extraordinarily interesting, courteous, and helpful people. Recently, for example, we met Chandrshakarkrishna (CK) who was working on Danga Bay's wifi network. The next morning, he came by with his wife and son, took us to breakfast, and dropped us off at the terminal to Singapore. It's much harder to find a dishonest person than it is to make a new friend.

2) Pictures Make The World Look Exotic.
- Before leaving on this trip, I pictured the remote and exotic scenery I would encounter. Maybe it's because the transition between countries and cultures is gradual, but looking around, nothing seems out of place to me. Looking through old photos the other day, even recent shots taken in Indonesia look more exotic than I remember them.

3) Bureaucracy Restricts Humanity.
- Many business management books talk about following your 'moral compass' when making decisions. Ralph Waldo Emerson wrote that "Nothing can bring you peace but the triumph of principles." It is without a doubt that society requires rules to function, but in so many parts of the world, rules are ill-founded and do more harm than good. India has stifling visa requirements and as a result, we have re-routed our journey. Although India's immigration restrictions are designed to prevent terrorism, they only serve to make it more costly and difficult to visit. Policy and rules need to be enabling; they must allow people to rely on their moral compass and principles to make good decisions.

But the one thing I am continually learning above all, is that the world is an interesting place.

Avoiding the Embrace of Mediocrity

2010-11-08T19:47:00.000-08:00

There are certain types of books that I'm drawn to more than others. While I tend to give romance novels a pass, I do enjoy reading non-fiction books on current events, history, or people. I find that I also have a particular interest in stories about professional cycling and its riders. I recently picked up a book which covers the 2005 Tour de France entitled "Chasing Lance" by Martin Dugard. At the bottom of page 123, I found this quote:

"You rolled yourselves into a ball in your genteel security, in routine, raising a modest rampart against the winds and tides and stars. Nobody grasped you by the shoulders while there was still time. Now the clay of which you were shaped has dried and hardened, and naught will you ever awaken the sleeping musician, the poet, the astronomer that possibly inhabited you in the beginning."

- Antoine de Saint-Exupery

The author uses the quote to describe why he thinks society admires people that have achieved greatness (like Lance Armstrong). Every human being has the potential to be great, but sometimes people find comfort in accepting simple mediocrity. However, by doing so, an individual's potential is limited, and unfortunately it is often self-limiting.

Professional cyclists like Lance Armstrong push themselves to extraordinary limits, both physically and mentally. When they achieve greatness, the effort exerted to do so is clearly visible. Perhaps by watching someone else push their limits, we are inspired to do likewise and break through Saint-Exupery's clay mold of mediocrity.

I've never met Lance Armstrong, but I've been lucky enough to meet a number of other inspirational people recently. From world travelers, to a young Malayasian man that started his own business, to cruisers raising families on sailboats, there are many people out here that have achieved greatness in their own way. What common trait have they all shared? They're bold; and although mediocrity may have been easily attainable, they were all driven to accomplish more.

Saint-Exupery's quote is a bit negative, and his allusion to hardened clay doesn't necessarily inspire hope. But don't forget, clay breaks easily - especially on a boat at sea.

Traveling the World by Land

2010-11-03T07:37:00.000-07:00

Two days ago, I got an e-mail from my mom telling me that a good friend from Poland is in Kuala Lumpur. I sent him an e-mail suggesting that we meet up, and received the following response:

"Hi Adam,

Sounds good! Actually I am in Malacca now, on my way to Singapore and probably Indonesia later. I'll go to Johor Bahru tomorrow morning and will give you a call. Where can I find you?

-Witek"

I gave Witek info on how to find the boat, and sure enough, the next afternoon he was standing on the dock.

Witek has been traveling for the past two months. Like me, he recently finished grad school and set aside some personal time to go see the world. Two months ago, however, he embarked on a very different journey.

Witek left Poland on a flight to Finland, traveled to St. Petersburg, Russia, took a train across Siberia, crossed Mongolia, traveled south through China, hopped on a plane from Shanghai to Kuala Lumpur, and now he's in Singapore planning his next move (most likely on a plane to Indonesia). He has one more month of travel planned, and he's trying to decide how to fit Borneo, Thailand, Cambodia, and Laos into his itinerary.

We sat and swapped stories from our respective journeys, and I think we both felt a little jealous of the other.
He carries nothing but a school-size backpack, travels by train and bus, and stays at hostels and cheap hotels. He said the only difficulty he encounters is finding good internet cafes; transportation has been very good and there are always hostels close to train and bus terminals.

Although the EYE of the World crew is seeing the world by sea, Witek is a prime example of another great way to travel.

Classroom Exercise:
Take a world map and trace out Witek's route. How does it compare to the EYE of the World route?

PS: We sent the above photo to both of our mothers.

Creature Tourism

2010-10-22T03:28:00.000-07:00

Want to go see orangutans in the wild? You won't have to sail around the world to do it (although you will have to travel halfway around the world). We've met many tourists from all over that have taken a grand trek to interact with the great apes of Southeast Asia. Here's how:

1) Get Here. Get to Kumai, Borneo. We sailed here, but there is an airport in a nearby town with regular flights to Jakarta (which has regular flights to anywhere else in the world).

2) Hire a Guide. Once in Kumai, arrange a boat tour with one of many operators. We've heard that some contract with travel agents abroad, so that it's possible to pre-book, but certainly not necessary (we booked a whole day speedboat trip at 4:00 PM the prior day). The guides are important. Aside from introducing you to the wild orangutans, they also have a much more important job: orangutan wrestler. Sometimes orangutans get aggressive, and without cages or barriers, there's little stopping one from attacking you. We witnessed several guides get physically involved when orangutans got grabby. Thankfully our guide explained how to prevent an orangutan from having interest in you (don't carry any food, bags, or have anything in your pockets). If an orangutan did grab you, submit (just as we did with Siswi as she reached out to hold our hands).

3) Decide What to See. There are many options for visiting the Tanjung Puting Reserve. We took a one day speed boat trip which included 1.5 hour trip to one camp to see a 9:00 AM feeding, then another 20 minute ride up to Camp Leakey. We were provided lunch and snacks, two boats and drivers, and an English speaking Guide. Another option is to take a slow river boat and spend from 2-6 days in the jungle. Each day you would visit camps, hike, and interact with orangutans. Each night you sleep onboard the houseboat, as a full crew cooks you meals and takes care of you.

4) Hang Out! It was wild (literally) to be within swinging distance of an orangutan. Each has a distinctly unique character, and watching them interact with humans and each other is something you can never get in a zoo.

If you're young and are more than just passively interested in orangutans, think about studying them professionally as a scientist. With hard work and good grades, there are ways to get your schooling and research paid for!

Crossing Notes: Bali to Borneo

2010-10-16T08:30:00.000-07:00

Before every crossing, we ritualistically clean, pack, wait for a weather window, settle into our watch schedule, and sail. Our most recent crossing was no different. We delayed our departure by a day to wait for favorable conditions (a healthy 5 day window with high pressure and 5-10 kt winds out of the southeast) and left before sunrise on Sunday morning.

Unfortunately, soon after we lost sight of the island of Bali, we found ourselves on 'Lake Indonesia.' Our forecasted winds were nowhere to be found. Hundreds of miles from land in all directions, and there wasn't a wave, swell, or even ripple to be seen. The Java Sea was a sheet of glass, and we crossed almost all of it with our engine running.

One afternoon, we took a swim break. We stopped the engine, came to a stop, and jumped in (with someone on the boat at all times). It was very refreshing.

After another day of no wind, we decided to swim again. As Alan, Halley, Amanda, and I jumped in the water, Matt stayed on the boat. He went down below, but little did the rest of the crew know that he went to use the head (our toilet).

We have a pump that flushes the head holding tank into the water outside the boat (called the macerator). Hearing it turn on while in the water next to the boat is rather unpleasant.

As those in the water were all screaming 'Matt no!!' someone noticed two sea snakes swimming nearby, which made the mad dash for the ladder even madder. On top of that, the first person out saw a shark while there were still people in the water.

The shark turned out to be a remora and although sea snakes are poisonous, their mouths are tiny and they're just curious, so it was ok. Matt now knows not to macerate when people are swimming, and he was quick to point out that he did, in fact, save our lives.

With less than 100 miles to go in a crossing, we usually get antsy and excited to step on shore the next day. On this crossing, with 100 miles to go, little did we know that we wouldn't touch dry land for another three days.

Our windless 'Lake Indonesia' suddenly turned into the land of lightning squalls. Each afternoon, we would watch the tops of puffy cumulus clouds soar upwards and form the definitive anvil tops of cumulo-nimbus clouds. The bottoms of these clouds became dark, bands of rain developed, wind began to blow, and by nightfall, the lightning would begin. Sometimes the tops of the clouds would glow bright orange; other times impressive bolts would streak down to the water.

But all of them were silent; without any thunder.

We carefully watched each cloud and successfully (yet anxiously) plotted courses of avoidance. The lightning would continue until 1:00 AM, and then pick up again at 4:00 AM until sunrise.

On our final afternoon, the wind filled in with coming squalls, but being within 40 miles of our anchorage, we pressed on and thankfully were able to navigate the river at night and set our anchor at a reasonable hour.

We are all relieved to be in Kumai. However, our most recent crossing is a bold reminder of the old saying: "Calm seas do not make a skilled sailor."

In a few days we'll have to leave again. There's a weather window a week away that should be free of lightning squalls; however, another old saying comes to mind: "A ship in port is safe, but that's not what ships are for."

Quit Monkeying Around!

2010-10-05T05:20:00.000-07:00

On our trip to the Monkey Forest in Ubud, a Monkey stole my water bottle.

An Estimate of the Ojek Driver Wage Rate in Maumere

2010-09-27T02:39:00.000-07:00

Like many of our other 'Basket of Goods' fans, I'm always curious about how much things cost around the world. Indonesia has so far been the cheapest country in our travels. Fruit, taxis, and haircuts are all very inexpensive. It's easy to observe these prices, but it is a little tougher to infer wages in an informal market. This is my back-of-the-envelope calculation of the wage rate for a motorbike taxi driver. The information was collected from direct observation, transactions, and discussions with local Indonesians. A number of assumptions are made based on observations and best educated guesses.

Background:

The primary method for getting around Maumere is either by overcrowded mini-bus called a 'Bemoh,' or on the back of motorbike taxi called an 'Ojek.' Anyone with a motorbike can be an Ojek driver (there isn't any specific designation), and all bikes travel at the same relative speed (frighteningly fast).

Revenue:

We routinely traveled the 25 minute ride between downtown Maumere and the Sao Resort where our boat was anchored for 10,000 IDR. Some rides were longer (about 40 minutes to the museum, or 60 minutes to our friend Nofi's home), yet we paid the same rate of 10,000 IDR for each of those rides. Throughout Indonesia, we have often paid higher prices than the locals (on account of being obvious tourists). Our 'Tourist markup' has ranged from 33 to 200%. 10,000 IDR for a 25 minute ride is thus an upper-bound.

On one morning ride into town, I counted empty ojeks out of a 10 bike sample every two minutes. I considered those carrying people, rice, baked goods, water bottles, or other cargo as 'occupied.' On this particular ride, I found an average of 4.2 Ojeks out of ten to be 'available.' Given this assumption of 42% of the driver's time spent looking for rides, a driver could fit approximately 11 rides into an 8 hour workday. Since many ojeks do not roam, but rather park and wait in central locations (such as the market), there are likely more empty bikes in the town at any one time than roaming the streets. Thus this estimate is similarly an upper-bound.

Using this information, the upper-bound estimate of a driver's expected daily revenue is 110,000 IDR.

Costs:

The following information was collected from discussions with staff at the Sao Resort, a taxi driver, and two different ojek drivers. The bikes used as ojek's are simple 50cc gasoline powered motorbikes. A bike might last 10 years and a new Honda or Yamaha costs around 50,000,000 IDR. A driver might put four liters of gasoline in the bike to cover a full day's worth of driving, and the maintenance costs of a bike are low (I am assuming 15% of the bike's value over its lifetime).

Using a ten-year time horizon with no salvage value, a 15% lifetime maintenance cost, and a 5% discount rate, the present value daily cost of owning a motorbike is 20,401 IDR. The cost of a day's worth of driving (four liters of gasoline at 4,500 IDR/liter) is 18,000 IDR.

It is unclear whether these costs represent a lower or upper bound. A different discount rate (due to fewer alternative investment options, uncertainty in the stability of the rupiah, or a high probability of accidents), lower maintenance costs, a higher salvage value, or alternative and cheaper brands of new bikes can skew this estimate in either direction. However, all of the assumptions made are based upon the best information available at the time.

The expected daily cost of operating an ojek is thus 38,401 IDR.

Results:

Using the above estimates for the revenue and cost over an 8 hour workday, an ojek driver's expected daily take-home income is 71,599 IDR. This equates to 8,950 IDR per hour. Using 8,817 IDR as the 1 USD equivalent, the expected value estimate for the hourly wage of an ojek driver is 1.02 USD per hour.

In comparison with the other informal low-skill jobs visible in Maumere (fisherman, market vendor, restaurant operator, bemoh driver), ojek drivers seemed to be on average wealthier and better dressed. Most had cellular phones and fashionable helmets. Becoming an ojek driver requires a significant up-front investment. Shop-owners, taxi drivers, bank employees, and government officials, in turn were clearly wealthier than ojek drivers. Within the context of the full labor marker, the ojek driver wage rate appears to be higher than most informal low-skill jobs, however certainly lower than the formal skilled labor market.

Please keep in mind that this is a back-of-the-envelope calculation in its truest form (I even did some of the math on the back of an envelope).

The Lakes of Kelimutu

2010-09-23T19:54:00.000-07:00

Indonesia is a chain of volcanic islands. Since arriving in the archipelago, we've sailed amongst giant volcanoes; some with visible steaming lava flows, others with plumes of smoke and steam rising from their peaks.

Although we missed the active volcanoes of Vanuatu, we were able to squeeze in a trip in Indonesia to a different, yet very impressive mountain.

Kelimutu is a tall, dormant volcano on the island of Flores with three craters at the top. Each crater has a lake in it, and although the lakes are very close to each other, they vary drastically in color. When we visited, one lake was dark blue, the other a bright teal, and the third was black. Over time, these lakes slowly and unpredictably change color.

The traditional belief on Flores was that when you died, your soul traveled to Kelimutu where a gatekeeper determined which lake you would enter. It is thus a very sacred and special place.

We hired a car and driver to take us up to Kelimutu for 750,000 rupiah, leaving at 3:30 AM in order to see the sunrise at the top. When we arrived, the mountain was shrouded in clouds, and remained so for the first two hours or so. We hiked to the rim of each lake, but could only see a thick white abyss below us. We also found a sign labeled 'feeding ground' but saw no animals to feed.

As we began to walk back, we stopped once more at the first crater, and slowly the clouds parted, giving us spectacular views of the three lakes (each of which was much larger and further down than we had anticipated).

And to top off a delightful morning, as we passed the feeding ground, we were pleasantly surprised to see a brand new creature for EYE of the World.

Please Don't Burn the Koran

2010-09-14T00:46:00.000-07:00

Before embarking on this journey, I was a current-events fiend. While working in my office, I would periodically check my favorite news sites to keep tabs on the latest news of the world.

Here on the boat, I don't have that luxury. I often won't get around to downloading my Google News feed until we're on our second or third day near shore. I therefore very much enjoy when friends and family send news updates via e-mail.

As we approached the island of Kisar, we checked our e-mails, and were disappointed to find out that someone in Florida was organizing a burning of the Islamic holy book, the Koran (spellings vary).

I don't know much more about the situation, but to whomever is organizing the event: Please don't do that.

Besides the insensitivity involved in any book burning (much less a holy book important to a large proportion of the world's population), it doesn't accomplish anything positive. Plus, it makes our lives out here more complicated.

As part of the EYE of the World crew, we serve as the eyes and ears of participating students in the US. However, we also serve as international ambassadors for our students (and oftentimes the United States as a whole). I'm very proud to be an American Citizen, but unfortunately, out here, we're sometimes wary about openly declaring ourselves as so.

Indonesians living on a remote island may have never met Americans before, but they do hear stories about book burnings in Florida. You and I both know that Americans are fun, honest, outgoing, good-hearted people, but you might not know that if you haven't met one personally.

I am happy to tell you that Bahamian, Turks and Caican, Dominican, Jamaican, Colombian, Panamanian, Equadorian, Marquesan, Tahitian, Samoan, Tongan, Fijian, Vanuatan, Australian, and Indonesian people are warm-hearted and good-natured. I can speak kindly of almost everyone we've met on our travels, and I hope that after their encounter with the EYE of the World crew, they feel positively about Americans too.

But for those of you back at home, please be aware of your actions and their implications. Things that happen in the US make the news world-wide. Things like a Koran book-burning don't reflect kindly upon Americans, and unfortunately, EYE of the World can't visit everyone in the world ... and show them that Americans are good people too.

Half a World Apart ...

2010-09-06T13:14:00.000-07:00

... yet so very much the same.

During our time here in Darwin, we found ourselves the willing guests, and unwilling source of amusement of the Dinah Beach Cruising Yacht Association. Although this club doesn't have much for an anchorage off its shores, it does boast a great floating dinghy dock, careening posts, a do-it-yourself work shed, great views, showers, and a fantastic group of yachties.

Our stay was very reminiscent of our time at Crown Pointe Marina, Coconut Grove Sailing Club, and Luperon Harbor. In each of our prior 'homes,' we met great people and had an excellent venue for us to work on the boat/explore.

For anyone following in our footsteps, stop by Dinah Beach and say hello - you won't regret it.

Memoirs of a Careening Poling

2010-08-31T22:45:00.000-07:00

So, as you may have read on the main page, we used a careening pole the other day to clean the bottom of the boat. It was great, as we normally have to snorkel to scrub, and the preponderance of man-eating salt-water crocodiles in Australia and Indonesia means that our bottom was to become quite the biological preserve.
Here's a lesson learned from my first careening experience:

Drive up only as far as you need to.

We tied to the careening pole on a high spring tide. Each successive high tide was lower. That evening, high tide was 8 inches lower than the morning's, and the next morning's was a further 4 inches lower.

Although being high and dry was great for scrubbing the bottom, that evening, despite our finest efforts, we did not get off the pole as planned. Further, we knew that if we didn't get off in the morning, we'd be stuck in front of the Dinah Beach Cruising Yacht Association for two more weeks.

That night we did everything to make the boat lighter; we dumped our water tanks, moved our fuel and water cans onto dry land, and lowered our anchor and 200 feet of chain into our dinghy. We hoped this loss of weight would help us float a little easier and slide off the careening post.
With high tide approaching, we ran our longest Panama Canal line from the stern to the wall, cranked it tight, and watched the water rise. At high tide, we began pushing, shoving, and rocking the boat to try and get her off and floating.

We were not successful.

Another idea had been discussed the night before, but not seriously considered ... until now. We could push the boat onto its starboard side and at the same time run a halyard from the top of the mast to the other bank, hopefully reducing pressure on the keel and allowing us to slide off. With the clock ticking, we decided to go for it.

We squared our backs against the careening pole and with all our might, leg-pressed the boat past vertical and rode it down until it was floating on its starboard side. Alan hopped in the dinghy, rushed to the far bank, and put all his weight on the main halyard.

This didn't quite work, but it did create quite a scene, thus leading to a fellow yachtie named Peter to join the fun. He drove his truck over to Alan and tied the halyard to the bumper.
With Alan and Peter at the truck and Amanda and I putting extra tension on the stern line, we slowly bobbed and slipped back into deeper water!

We ended up putting on quite a show for the members of the Yacht Club, I just wish we had set up the time lapse camera that morning.

So, if you're ever going to go onto a careening post, only go up as far as you need to.

The Official End of All Physical Activity

2010-08-22T02:30:00.000-07:00

The other day, Alan asked me "Whatever happened to 'The Cruiser's Running Guide?"

Before moving onto the boat, I fancied myself a bit of a runner. Not a very fast one, but I did enjoy running on a regular basis. I tried to keep that up on the boat. Be it Fort Lauderdale, Miami, the Bahamas, the DR, or Panama, I would scope out a decent route, put a couple miles in, and write a personal journal post about my run.

Then came the Pacific Ocean.

An interesting thing happens when you stop using muscles - your body decides you don't need them. Doctors and astronauts refer to this as 'atrophy.' During our crossing to the Marquesas, I probably walked no further than 80 feet in a day (at least one promenade to the bow and back). Upon arrival on Fatu Hiva, my running muscles were gone. We pulled an eight hour hike the next day, but certainly not without significant aches and pains. Walking a mile had become my new marathon.

In terms of physical activity, I did have one saving grace: rowing. We didn't have an outboard for our dinghy, so for almost every trip to shore, I got an upper body workout. It wasn't much, but it was something.

However, Nhulunbuy marks a new milestone in our journey. The yacht club here contains one of the finest boat graveyards we've seen. Not much in terms of large boats, but if you need a dinghy, this is the place to wash ashore. In the corner of the workshop, we found several 3.3 hp outboard engines. Jacques, an old man who seems to pass the time sleeping on an old minivan bench-seat, told us that if we could get any of them running, they were ours.

I don't know much about outboards, but I have a friend named Will Phillippe from my old college sailing team that does. Back in college, I observed Will bring many outboards back to life, and if I learned anything, it's that engines don't work unless the cover's off. Sure enough, with the cover removed, some broken looking parts replaced, and a few liters of fresh petrol, the engine mostly ran!

If this means anything, it's that my last bastion of physical activity has come to an end.

Farewell to the Pacific Ocean

2010-08-20T20:46:00.000-07:00

As we left the locks of Miraflores in Panama last March, we were set afloat in the Pacific Ocean. Five months and over 8,600 nautical miles later, we have rounded Cape York on Australia and have officially left its waters.

Sailing across the largest ocean in the world certainly sounds like a daunting endeavor - and at the right latitudes and wrong time of year, I'm sure it certainly is - however a tradewind ride across the tropics is actually rather pleasant. The winds stay at your back, and all the conditions predicted by our cruising guide came true: a fast shot to the Marquesas; squalls in the Tongan Trench; and blustery winter trades in the Coral Sea. Our route is commonly known as the 'Coconut Milk Run,' and is one of the easiest paths across any ocean.

A progressive visit through the islands of the South Pacific gave an insightful glimpse into the history of human migration. Polynesians settled the islands west to east, and each island culture developed in relative isolation with rather recent, common roots. Tracing this path backwards allowed us to notice trends and commonalities across language, food, and music.

Contrasts between European exploration and colonization attempts are also evident. French Polynesia, American Samoa, Samoa (formerly German), and Fiji (British Commonwealth) all have different political atmospheres nowadays - each owing itself to the residual impact of colonialism.

World War II left its mark on the South Pacific as well. Although much of the fighting occurred north of our route, Japanese and Allied forces jostled for many of the South Pacific Islands, each seen as a toehold for advancing towards the other's territory. We visited batteries built to guard the port entrances on Bora Bora and American Samoa, and we saw an impressive array of historical military equipment on Vanuatu.

At the far end of the ocean, we landed on our first continental landmass since Central America: Australia. Our hop north through the beautiful Great Barrier Reef and Australia's deserted north Queensland coast has been like a farewell party at an office job: enjoyable, fun, pleasant, yet bittersweet. We're saying goodbye to most of the other cruising sailboats (many of our friends will remain in the Pacific for several more seasons), the familiar routine of crossings broken up by island anchorages will cease (in favor of more land-based exploration), and the view from the window will change (for better or for worse). However, in the end, we're leaving the Pacific Ocean for the same reasons one leaves an established job - to chase new opportunities, to seek new adventures, and to explore new environments.

Southeast Asia, here we come.

The Great Reef Comparison

2010-08-09T15:37:00.000-07:00

We've traveled a long way, and seen many different reefs during our voyage. All pose a hazard to sailors, but many serve as quite the snorkeling attraction. Here's what I think of some of the reefs I've had a chance to snorkel on so far:

Bahamas - The reefs here seem to form themselves into tight coral heads. Each bunch grows up from the sandy bottom like a flower. The best snorkeling (in terms of quantity of fish and other sea life) was found inside the Warderick Wells National Park, where a fishing and harvesting ban is strictly enforced.

San Blas - The best snorkeling was found around an old shipwreck in shallow water. A wide variety of fish and coral had made their home on the old steel boat. The size of coral growth was smaller than in the Bahamas, however it was much more colorful.

Tuamotus - The perfectly calm water inside the atoll provided some exceptional sight-seeing. One coral ledge we snorkeled had some very colorful giant clams (about 4" wide), however the colors of the rest of the coral seemed muted. Some coral heads here grew from the bottom like giant chimneys, making navigation particularly exciting.

Moorea - The fringing reef we anchored inside had some interesting formations (as well as a few black-tip sharks!), but the diversity of coral was rather limited. It was, however, my first sighting of a wild clown fish (ala Nemo).

Great Barrier Reef - As Captain Ron proclaimed: "Huge! Ran the whole coast." The reef is indeed huge (although not necessarily continuous), and everything on it is similarly large. We saw giant clams (large enough to fit a small child inside), massive sea fans, parrot fish the size of watermelons, and an impressive variety of colors and coral species. At our last mooring, we tossed some moldy bread overboard and within seconds, a flurry of colorful fish were fighting over the scraps (including two fish the size and shape of a trashcan lid and one ugly, brown fish the size of a German Shepard - sorry, I still need to do some research to figure out the species).

Coral reefs throughout the world have certainly been beautiful, exciting, and marvelous. In my opinion, they're a resource certainly worth protecting - even just for their sightseeing value.

A Visit From The 'Rents!

2010-08-05T00:11:00.000-07:00

Here in Australia, I've enjoyed a pleasant visit from my parents! They are both well-versed travelers in their own right, and although I'm sure they'll tell you their primary purpose of their trip was to visit me, they're squeezing a bit more into their time here.

After four days in Cairns (including a trip to the Cairns Zoo, Great Barrier Reef, and Daintree Rainforest) they're flying to Sydney, spending a day there, then flying to New Zealand's South Island (where my dad hopes to squeeze a ski run or two in), then back to Sydney for four more days to visit a friend, then back to the US.

I almost think they're trying to out-do me :)

Next Week on 'Dirty Jobs'

2010-07-17T03:54:00.000-07:00

Dear Mike Rowe,

On your tv show 'Dirty Jobs,' you pay visits to regular people who have dirty jobs that make civilized life possible. In the past, you've visited sewer inspectors, meat packers, and shrimp fisherman. At the end of each show, you also ask viewers to write in and suggest other dirty jobs for you to try out.

In response, I am hereby suggesting you take a trip and visit a live-aboard cruiser. Although it may be the opposite of a 'job,' there are many opportunities to get good and soiled. Here's a short list of some of the dirty tasks we had to tackle over the last few days:

1) Not showering: Before Vanuatu, my last hot shower had been a week before in Savusavu, Fiji. Before that, three months before in Panama City, Panama.

2) Changing oil on a diesel: A messy job involving limited access, a weak oil drain pump, and a poorly placed oil filter. Changing the oil gives your hands and arms a distinctly grizzly flavor.

3) Offshore watches on a beam reach: Just as multiple coats of varnish build up a glimmering coat on top of wood, constant ocean spray evaporating off your skin and clothes leaves a massive coating of salt. Soft shirts become stiff, hair becomes coiffed, and everything else looks like it's been hit by a light dusting of snow.

4) Removing and replacing the starter on the engine: The starter itself is not messy, however the limited access in the engine compartment brings you back into contact with much of the aforementioned oil.

5) Rebuilding the head. Our 44 year old toilet finally got the best of us on the last crossing. Flushing (which was already a very physically and emotionally demanding process) ceased despite all efforts, thus requiring a full rebuild of the toilet. We had a rebuild kit, and the six hour process ended in success, but I have now vowed to never again own a toilet that requires screwdrivers, wrenches, and a hammer to maintain.

So as you can see, life on a boat can get (and stay) very dirty. I know it's merely a chosen lifestyle (and thus warrants no complaints), but if you have the time, feel free to stop on by.

We've got a bilge that needs scrubbing.

Sincerely,
-Adam

Loss is nothing else but change, and change is Nature's delight

2010-07-05T05:45:00.000-07:00

I hate losing things, unfortunately once in awhile, it happens: something I cherish gets forgotten, left behind, or misplaced. Luck would have it that most of the things I misplace, I actually used quite often. Oftentimes, I know exactly where I left them - but I usually don't realize that these items are gone until it is far too late.

Here's a running tally of things I've lost so far on this trip:

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- W&M Sailing Team Hoodie - black; embroidered with 'Doman' on the sleeve. Left at Karaoke night at the marina in Luperon, DR the night before our departure.

- Right flip flop - brown Sanuk, size 11. Fell off a bridge on Fatu Hiva and washed out to sea. I'm rather partial to the type and quality of my open-toed footwear, so thankfully, I had another identical pair on board.

- Wide-brimmed straw hat. The straw hat I'm often wearing in photos was left at the Yacht Club in Bora Bora. I'm actively searching for a replacement of equivalent prose while sporting my running cap more frequently.

--------------------------------------------------

At the least, I hope these magnificent artifacts get picked up and appreciated for all their worth. I would in no way be offended to cross paths with someone wearing my hoodie, straw hat, and right flip flop further down the road. In fact, I would be honored.

My Take on the BP Gulf Oil Spill

2010-06-23T21:23:00.000-07:00

In 1998, my family and I took a trip to Alaska. We toured many spectacular places including Anchorage, Seward, Denali NP, and Valdez.

Valdez is the home of the southern terminus of the Trans-Alaska Pipeline, America's northernmost ice-free port, and the namesake of America's second-most devastating oil spill. The supertanker Exxon Valdez (named after the town) ran aground on its way out of Prince William Sound, spilling a massive amount of oil into the sea. There was a devastating environmental impact with iconic images of birds and sea-otters covered in oil (much like Conan O'Brien's "chocolate pelicans" seen on the news today).

As devastating as the oil spill was, Exxon paid the cost of the cleanup, lost fishing revenues, and environmental damage (the calculation of the latter is one of the milestones of Environmental Economics). Exxon damaged a public good, and should most certainly bear the cost of the damage. These costs were ultimately borne by the consumers of oil, but that's exactly how it should be.

The news of the BP gulf oil spill was first reported to us in a sat phone call with Mr. Poole's sixth grade class during our crossing from Galapagos to Marquesas. Since then, we caught little tidbits of the news, but didn't really comprehend the extent of the damage until we watched CNN in Pago Pago.

Water quality obviously hits close to home for me. I live on the ocean, and human impact is very evident - offshore, we can almost measure our distance to land by looking at how blue the water is. In the middle of the ocean, the water is unbelievably clear. It's amazing to jump in, look down, and see your shadow disappear into the depths. A clean ocean is a valuable thing.

I've never sailed in the Gulf of Mexico, but my brother has. He spent time in Galveston, Texas, and he's told stories of his many adventures and regattas. One story he's told is about a place called 'The Graveyard.' This is a part of the Gulf with many old oil rigs and well-heads, some only sticking a few feet above the water and posing a danger to shipping and sailboats. Before the BP spill, this was the one of the greatest negative impacts of offshore drilling.

One of the strongest points taught in Environmental Economics is that there is an optimal and acceptable level of pollution. This can be calculated using many of the econometric tools available to economists and policy makers (take a read through my dissertation at www.lib.ncsu.edu if you want to learn more). It is possible that skeleton rigs and well-heads are an acceptable byproduct of offshore drilling. A massive oil slick is another story.

I'm not familiar with environmental economic research that has looked at the impact of oil spills besides the Exxon Valdez papers (life on a boat keeps me out of touch from current events and new academic research), but I think it would be hard to show that the current oil slick in the Gulf of Mexico could be optimal.

The news we watched in Pago Pago showed BP getting a lot of flak (as they should for damaging a public good), but I'm also confidant in America's legal system and the academic economic community's ability to nail down a dollar value for the social cost of the BP oil spill.

Just as in the Exxon Valdez disaster, BP will end up spending a lot of money on clean-up, damages, and settlements. As a result of these and new drilling regulations, we should expect the cost of gas at the pump to go up.

We may flinch at higher gas prices, but watching the events occurring in the Gulf should help us to understand the total costs of drilling and transporting oil. The risk of environmental damage is extraordinary, and higher prices at the pump will reflect the cost of doing business.

And if higher gas prices pose a problem - you as a consumer have an easy alternative for reducing your expenditure on gasoline:

drive less.

The rest of the ocean will thank you.

Back On US Soil

2010-06-19T02:43:00.000-07:00

Everyplace I have ever been has been very similar. People are polite, helpful, and courteous. Strangers on the street smile and answer your questions. People eat three meals a day, relax in the evenings, and spend time with their families. Kids play sports in the afternoon, go to school during the day, and find every opportunity for mischief.

Aside from the language, the only way to tell that you're in another country is by the 'little things.' People own different cars, live in different types of houses, wear their hair differently, and root for different sports teams. The roads and sidewalks have a different feel to them, police officers wear different uniforms, and road signs use different fonts and colors.

American Samoa is indeed home to an indigenous culture. There is no tourism industry to speak of, and people here walk around town going about their daily lives. However, the little American things around us certainly make us feel like we're at home.

A trip to the post office is like any at home, road signs are cut from the same cloth, and police officers even walk the same way. Although we're still in a different world, American Samoa is home to a certain, vibrant familiarity. If only the sun weren't so hot.

A Trip to the 'Canons!'

2010-06-04T21:43:00.000-07:00

One thing I've been disappointed with on the Society Islands is the quality of the tourist maps. When you pull up to an island, you see large mountains, waterfalls, and hiking opportunities. A visit to the tourism office gives you a cartoony map of spas, restaurants, and boat tours. Other points of interest are indeed labeled, but not necessarily in their right location, nor with instructions on how to access them.

Our Bora Bora map had an asterisk next to the road, halfway between our mooring and the main town. Next to this * was the word 'Canons.' We learned that during World War II, after the Japanese had abandoned Bora Bora, the Americans seized the island and built a series of canons to protect it. The largest two were situated on a bluff overlooking the pass.

Besides being marked on the map, there was no obvious way to access them. We attempted to follow one road up the hill, but that ended prematurely. We eventually decided to ask a local family.

We stopped into the yard of a home and asked the mother of the house for directions to the canons. She promptly dispatched five elementary school-aged kids, and one older teenager to take us there. The kids darted up the hill behind the house, and we in-turn, followed. They all took their shoes off at the bottom, and we (thinking that this was obviously the proper procedure for finding the canons) did the same.

Our journey took us straight up a hillside, onto the crest of the hill, and through the woods until we saw them - two massive WWII era cannons. These were never fired in combat, and the Americans abandoned them at the end of the war, but it was a very cool site to see. The hillside provided excellent views of the island, pass, and town as well.

It was fun climbing up the hill with the kids. We answered their many questions about the United States, and they answered our questions about Bora Bora. The next day, the family invited us back to the home to feed us lunch - another example of the overwhelming Polynesian hospitality that we keep running into.

If our tourist map was any better, we wouldn't have had such a great time.

Road Trip!

2010-06-01T15:27:00.001-07:00

Being based from a boat, the little bit of land we see is usually limited to exploration by foot or public transit. With the desire to truly see all of Tahiti, we rented a car.

After several days of searching, we found and rented the cheapest and smallest car we could find. A Renault Twingo. About the size of a golf cart, Will at one point remarked that he felt like we were in a go-cart.

Leaving the city and rounding the island counter-clockwise, we stopped at any point that our cartoon-like map of the island suggested. We saw a number of cool things:

- A botanical garden with a waterfall. The first of many waterfalls on our drive, this one ended up being the least impressive. It also had several Tarzan vines that were unable to support my weight.

- The 'Grotto', a set of freshwater caverns at the base of the mountainside. Inside, natural spring water literally rained from the ceiling and the swim was incredibly refreshing. Gauguin claimed that the cavern was so large that he swam for an hour before touching the far wall. He must have been a slow swimmer, because it only took Will about five minutes.

- The Paul Gauguin Museum. So far my second Gauguin museum of the trip (the first being at his final home in Hiva Oa). This Tahitian museum had less paintings than the first (albeit they were all reproductions), but did a better job of telling the story of the man who quit his job as a Parisian stockbroker at the age of 35 and decided to become a painter.

- Teahupoo - the world famous surf spot and site of Laird Hamilton's famous big-wave ride shown at the end of the movie 'Riding Giants.' We met several Americans that had come down and had spent several months living there, just to surf. You can see the famous outer-reef curl from the beach. We spent time body surfing at the shore break with the local kids.

- The 'Trois Cascades' - a massive waterfall that begins as two falls at the top of a mountain, hits a ledge, and then continues to the bottom as one. This is the largest and most impressive waterfall I have ever seen, and the valley surrounding it is reminiscent of the opening scene in Jurassic Park. All the rocks are covered in thick moss and the air is thick with a cool mist.

- 'Venus Point' - we made it to this spit of land just after sunset. This point was made famous as the site where Lieutenant James Cook chose to observe the transit of Venus during his first Pacific voyage. Much of the land we are visiting was named by Cook (The Society Islands were supposedly named after the 'Royal Society of London' that funded his first voyage).

It was a good and productive day. It felt great to see things from a new perspective, but I must say it felt a bit odd being behind the wheel of something that was moving faster than 8 kts.

Big City Life

2010-06-01T15:27:00.000-07:00

We spent several days in Papeete, the largest city and administrative center of French Polynesia. We tied up to the yacht quay right downtown. Within walking distance, we had:

- The downtown market where vendors sell everything from island art, fresh fish, and ready-made food.

- Papeete's Cathedral.

- The ferry and commercial docks.

- Plenty of boat-related shopping including an ACE Hardware (which even sold American flags) and a 'NautiSport' (the local version of West Marine).

- The main square, home of the 'Roulettes' - vans that sold food. Similar to a hot-dog cart, except these were home to French chefs serving up gourmet meals.

- The Robert Wan Pearl Museum - showcase of pearl production and jewelry for sale. Here we saw cases with expensive 14,500,000 PF pearl necklaces.

- A Wal-Mart sized Carre-Four grocery store.

Despite all this, the city is anything but large. Almost everything was within walking distance and there are really only one or two main roads in town (and on the island).

However, if you talk to our friend Robert in Takaroa, he'll tell you that Papeete is like Hong Kong to him. In truth, the city is anything but a bustling metropolis, but if you consider the dramatic contrast between Takaroa and Tahiti, it's easy to see why he considers it so.

The Real Pearl of the Tuamotus

2010-05-24T16:57:00.001-07:00

In the town of Vaitahu on the Marquesian island of Tahuata, we met a very friendly shop owner named Jose. He told us a very impressive story about the black pearls of the Tuamotus.

On these tiny islands live pearl farmers who produce impressive black pearls in such great quantities that you can acquire them for next to nothing. What they don't have a lot of on the islands, is wine.

Jose told us that a one-liter box of wine (which he sold for 750 PF) could fetch 5 or 6 pearls. He instructed us only to look for perfectly round pearls ... the bigger the better. If we were lucky, perhaps we'd be able to trade for an R-20 (a perfectly round pearl 20 mm in diameter). Such a pearl would sell for perhaps 1,500 PF in the Tuamotus, but a jeweler in Tahiti would buy it for 2,000,000 PF!

We had heard similar stories before. In fact, many other cruisers stock up on wine and rum in Panama specifically for the purposes of acquiring black pearls.

We were suspicious. If it was possible to make that much money shipping pearls between the Tuamotus and Tahiti, why did Jose run a shop on Tahuatu? Why didn't he just buy a boat and start ferrying pearls himself? In fact, many of the Tuamotun atolls have airports - why didn't anybody just fly back and forth with loads of pearls?

Also, were the pearl farmers that oblivious to what they had? If one of them pulled an R-20 out of an oyster, why didn't he buy a plane ticket to Tahiti, sell the pearl and fly back (with enough money left over to buy a car?).

Nevertheless, we didn't want to miss a good opportunity, so we bought four boxes of wine from Jose and stowed them onboard.

About a week later we arrived at Takaroa and entered the pass just after sunrise during slack high tide. We anchoring, dinghied to shore, and began our ritual hunt for ice cream - but this time I had two boxes of wine in my backpack in case we crossed paths with some pearls.

We had no luck on the ice cream - there was no electricity in town and the person in charge of fixing it had a hangover from the night before. We were told he gets drunk every weekend (nevermind the fact that it was Tuesday). However, we did get directions to a house that sells pearls. We stopped in and were shown an unimpressive batch of oblong and discolored pearls that weren't legal for export. These pearls were priced for 1,000-1,500 PF each (certainly not the cheap R-20 we were looking for).

We soon realized our earlier instincts had been correct - round pearls are rare. When found, they're shipped right out of the country to the highest bidder. Also, the population of Takaroa is 90% Mormon and since they don't drink alcohol, our wine certainly wasn't going to do us any good.

We figured we wouldn't be leaving the Tuamotus with any pearls, so we decided to do some exploring instead. Five kilometers up the road, we were told, was a 200 ft steel shipwreck on the beach. We decided to check it out.

We began hiking up the road and the first car that passed stopped to give us a ride. Inside were four people in their twenties. Ruo, Jeanlou, (both males), Vehia, and Hinanui (both girls) are from Tahiti, but spend some of their time living at Vehia's family's house on Takaroa.

What followed was an adventure that we won't soon forget. After taking us to the shipwreck, they invited us to their home on the opposite shore. We moved the WTP in front of their home, but didn't spend any time on it during the next three days.

We slept in an empty house next door to theirs, ate every meal with them, and enjoyed their terrific company. They took us lobster hunting at midnight (no luck) and spear fishing during the day (lots of luck). We showered twice daily in fresh rainwater from a cistern. Every meal was a delicious feast on a porch over the water. We played with their dog, cat, two puppies, and one kitten, met their intriguing neighbor Robert (whom we feasted with on our last night - and even had ice cream for dessert); got a tour of the village, met a family of artisans who weave palm fronds, and learned a lot about Pumotuan culture, history, and language.

We left on the fourth morning for Tahiti. Before departing, Jeanlou gave us all necklaces that Vehia had made the night before. Mine is black with a single dark pearl in the middle. The pearl is about 8 mm in diameter and shaped like a football. It has two ridges, some divots, and a few scratches. It's the kind of pearl that isn't worth much in a jewelry store.

However, this pearl represents all the kindness and hospitality that Ruo, Jeanlou, Vehia, and Hinanui showed us during our short stay.

This black pearl that I'm leaving the Tuamotus with isn't an R-20. I can't trade it for a car, and it isn't going to make me rich. However, because of my visit to Takaroa, it's worth all the more.

The Value of Time

2010-05-06T20:04:00.000-07:00

I'm the kind of person that views much of the world in terms of investments and returns. I would consider myself a goal-oriented hard worker, and I enjoy being productive. I also value my time very highly.

To be completely honest, there are parts of our twenty day crossing that were difficult for me. There were times that I felt stagnant, unproductive, and full of useless energy. Twenty days was quite a price to pay.

However, the crossing was more than anything, an investment... with an uncertain return. Twenty days of anybody's time is worth quite a lot - and it is this cost that keeps many people from sailing across the Pacific. I wondered what our payoff would be. I had heard stories about the Marquesas ... but would it all be worth it? How many islands would I have to visit, how many sights would I have to see, how many days-weeks-months would it take... for it all to be worth it?

On May 1st, 2010, one minute after our anchor was set... it was all worth it. The payoff was immediate. We arrived at sunset. It was soon too dark to appreciate it clearly, but you could see that we were anchored in a tiny cove surrounded by towering cliffs. I could barely sleep that night.

The next morning I awoke before sunrise. I sat alone on the deck in total awe of the sight before me. Rocks shot out of the ocean, palm trees, grass, and forest barely clinging to their slopes.

And the smell.

Just as we had travelled over 3,000 nm, so does every bit of air and moisture in the Marquesas. Foreign particles fall out many miles earlier, and all that is left is the same unadulterated, moist wind that carried us from San Cristobal. This air suddenly crashes into a mountain half a mile high and gives birth to one of the purest rain forests in the works.

We were anchored on the lee side of the island, so we experienced the brunt of the most magnificent, lush, and pure forest air I have ever breathed.

Still in my pajamas, I caught a ride to shore with a French man on his way to fill up water.

Maybe it was only the foreign sensation of land, but stepping ashore at Fatu Hiva made the prior twenty days absolutely, and unequivocally... worth it.

Counting Down the Miles

2010-05-06T19:47:00.000-07:00

I'm no stranger to tests of endurance. I actually rather enjoy them. With marathons, an Ironman, and a terminal graduate degree under my belt, I've often tested my mettle over time. Given that I'm not an exceptionally swift runner, I feel my relatively slow marathon and triathlon times grant me greater experience on the endurance front.

So what is a 3,000 nm crossing like? Well, in our case it wasn't very demanding at any one moment. A beam/broad reach in 10-15 kts of wind across 5-7 ft seas is something any sailor can enjoy (especially with Beauregard, our self-steering windvane in control). Put that on top of a swift westward current and you regularly notch off 180 nm days that make you feel rather accomplished (regardless of the fact that you might have adjusted the sheets or wheel only three or four times all day).

So what is a 3,000 nm crossing like? In my mind, it's most similar to another endurance event I've participated in: The Krispy Kreme Challenge.

Let me explain...

I really only eat about 12 donuts a year, and for the past four years, that quota has been ceremoniously met at a running event held in downtown Raleigh, North Carolina. The goal is to run 2.5 miles from NC State's campus to a Krispy Kreme downtown, eat a dozen donuts, and then run the 2.5 miles back - all in under an hour. Over 5,000 runners participated in this last year.

The hardest part isn't the running, nor is it the 12th and final donut. The toughest part is donut number nine. The run out to the Krispy Kreme is mostly downhill, and the collective excitement makes the miles pass quickly. After receiving your box of donuts and settling into your personal space in the Krispy Kreme parking lot, the adrenaline in your body makes the first five donuts disappear remarkably quickly. You start to feel full as you force down numbers six and seven. By donut number eight, your body has figured out what you're doing and begins its protest in earnest.

Donut nine is by far the worst. At this point you've remembered that you don't even like donuts. You're wondering what prompted you to sign up for this very boorish display of Americana at its best. You've also probably heard the sounds of someone regurgitating their batch of donuts as other competitors scurry to an unsoiled corner of the parking lot. Worst of all is how wholey unappetizing the remaining three untouched donuts look.

But you press on, and you notice a dramatic change with donut number ten. With only two donuts left, the end is in sight and the task at hand is no longer as daunting. 'You can eat two donuts' you tell yourself. 'After all, you've just eaten ten' (the massive influx of sugar obviously clouding your logic). Donuts 11 and 12 disappear as quickly as the first five, and soon enough you're on the road again with an X on your race number signifying your recent accomplishment. The run back is tempered, but easier than you had expected, and you soon cross the finish line, oddly proud of your accomplishment (with all the earlier thoughts of despair now forgotten).

That's what sailing a beam/broad reach across 3,000 nm is like. Just like eating a single donut, a single day spent sailing in the tropics is a true delight - putting many of those delights end to end is what makes it a more difficult prospect.

And just like counting down donuts, so we counted down the miles. The first few days went by quickly. Days eight and nine dragged on a bit. By this point I had read all the books I had that were worth reading and began shuffling through trashy beach novels picked up at past book swaps. My ipod playlist was similarily well worn. We were out of fresh fruit. Worst of all, I had run out of dry underwear, and constantly sitting on wet cushions created a discomfort that I will not discuss in detail.

But once we had 1,300 miles left, the majority of the days were behind us and the end was now in sight. Will had baked a 'halfway cake,' we had gained significant ground against all the other boats on our radio net, and I soon began the mental math to figure out whose watch would make landfall.

In the end, the crossing was rather pleasant and featured many high points, including:

- All other boats on the radio getting out name right (no more 'Tippycat' or 'William The Cat').

- The Papaya on day three.

- Reading 'One Watch At A Time' By Skip Novak.

- Watermelon Day on day five.

- Halfway cake.

- Working through Will's collection of movies, specifically:

a) South Pacific - a recent BBC documentary series about its namesake. Shot in high definition, often in high-speed, this series got us excited about what is to come. For those of you following along at home, I would strongly suggest watching it. It presents the world we're sailing through in impressive detail. Apparently Oprah narrates the US version.

b) Breaking Away - a terrific movie featuring collegiate cycling in the 70's, it stars one of the bad guys from 'Home Alone' alongside a very young Dennis Quaid.

c) Out Cold - This irreverent and comedic snowboarding remake of Casablanca is directed by the Malloys and features Zach Galifianakis. What's not to like about that?

But most of all:

- Holding weekly sat-phone calls with several of our classrooms in Virginia! It was really fun to check in with you guys!

The Cockpit Sessions: Volume One

2010-04-11T10:52:00.000-07:00

With a little bit of spare time during our last crossing, we decided to record a couple of the songs that we play. We've chopped them up into four segments. Below is Volume One.

We call these, The Cockpit Sessions.

Galapagean Scuba Trip

2010-04-09T09:31:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, Alan and I went on a dive trip to Kicker Rock - a volcanic mass jutting out of the sea bottom several miles north of Wreck Bay. I had completed my open water scuba certification during my undergraduate days, but had never found myself with the opportunities to do any real diving. I suppose there's plenty of exquisite diving in the Bahamas, but for some reason, finding a shop and signing up for a trip never entered my mind.

What makes diving in the Galapagos different is the sharks. The deep water, sheer drop offs, and proximity to major ocean currents brings some incredible ocean species.

Back in Miami, we made friends with a diving enthusiast at the Coconut Grove Sailing Club. Robert 'Commanding Officer' Bondy told stories of his many trips to the Galapagos Islands to dive with sharks. The concept sounded like a reckless adrenaline rush at the time.

However, here on the island, diving to see sharks is one of the big things to do. It's not pitched as a thrill-seeking adventure, but rather as another opportunity to see exotic creatures. In truth, that's exactly what it was and it was certainly worth the trip.

We were picked up from our boat in the anchorage and taken out to Kicker Rock in the morning. Along the way we cut near shore and got to see some of the frigate birds performing their mating rituals (the males inflate a giant red pouch under their necks). We did a check dive next to a sea lion nesting colony and once at Kicker Rock we did two dives, both to about 80 feet. The first was a drift dive through a channel in the rock. The second was a wall dive around the northern tip.

EYE of the World doesn't have an underwater camera so we don't have any photos, but here's a list of the animals we saw:

Galapagos Sharks (~3 ft long)
Black Tip Sharks (~5 ft long)
White Tip Shark (~6 ft long)
Hammerhead Shark (~11 ft long)
Eagle Ray
Octopus
Moray Eel
Sea Lions

Not to mention the countless fish.

Passage Notes ... or ... Too Many Mangoes, Not Enough Time

2010-04-06T05:41:00.000-07:00

The area in which we spent most of our time in the panamanian pacific coast was part of the old, US administered, canal zone. Managed by the US Military, the Panama Canal was primarily a strategic asset for the United States. In the 1970's, the US signed two treaties that began the transfer of the canal, its operations, and its assets to Panama. That transfer was officially completed in 1999.

Most of the canal zone infrastructure remains today as it was in the 1970's. Uncharacteristic (for Panama) suburban neighborhoods, tree-lined boulevards, and administrative buildings carry a distinctly American flavor.

I went for a run (a new Cruiser's Running Guide post is forthcoming) through some of these empty neighborhoods. Duplexes and driveways on meandering streets felt no different than my neighborhood back home. However, instead of oak trees lining the roads, these streets were shrouded by grand mango trees.

Ripe yellow mangos lay strewn across the ground, while great bunches of green mangos hung within arms reach. I picked three green mangos for an experiment. This was three days before our departure.

Within two days, the green mangos had begun to soften and turn yellow. Cutting them open revealed that they were ripe and delicious.

The night before our departure, the three of us hopped aboard our folding bike and scooters and took a trip up to the mango trees. Jumping, standing on each other's shoulders, and hopping on garbage barrels, we collected over 125 mangos.

By the time we sailed our first 200 miles, the mangos began to ripen. We ate them raw (5 at a time), tried to make mango juice (not very effective), and even enjoyed them baked with onions and peppers over our fish steaks.

The fish is another story, but what really made this passage different from all the rest for me, was that we had an endless supply of mangos and fish - neither of which cost us a penny!

People You Meet Along the Way

2010-03-24T21:24:00.000-07:00

I've recently accomplished two important 'firsts:'

1) I transited the Panama Canal.

2) I made friends with someone who has a biography on Wikipedia.

Sitting to the left of me in this photo is Joanna 'Asia' Pajkowska. We met her, along with first mate, cook, and story teller Aleks in the San Blas islands off of Dog Cay. Asia (pronounced 'aasha') and Aleks were anchored next to us. While rowing by their boat, I noticed they were flying a Polish flag. Given my Polish heritage, I was excited to meet Polish cruisers.

These are no normal cruisers however. Both are very experienced sailors. Last year, Asia completed a solo nonstop circumnavigation in 198 days. She performed it on the same 28 ft Polish-built boat that she is sailing on now. For this feat, she was recently named 'Polish Sailor of the Year.' It was pure chance that she was flying to Poland to accept the award on the same day that I was returning to North Carolina. We traveled to the airport together and scheduled our transits in succession so that we could help each other through the canal.

On the 22nd, Alan and I traveled back to Colon to help Asia and Aleks transit. We had a great time and they were terrific hosts. This afternoon, after Alan gave them a weather report, they left Panama for the Galapagos Islands. Although their eventual destination is the Mediterranean, they are following the same route through the Pacific that we are.

Although Asia and Aleks are starting a week ahead of us, I hope that we'll get an opportunity to meet again.

A Visit Home!

2010-03-16T10:10:00.000-07:00

I'm currently wrapping up a visit back to the states. I feel like I've accomplished quite a bit. Here's my top ten:

10) Successfully defended my PhD dissertation. If you're interested in reading it, the file should be up on the NC State Library ETD website in a few months.

9) Ran in an 8K race (that Cruiser's Running Guide is paying off).

8) Purchased a new mainsheet and topping lift for the boat. (Our old ones were getting ratty in a few spots).

7) Caught up with old friends from the USCGC Forward. It was fun learning about life on the Forward, especially hearing that the Executive Officer had e-mailed the EYE of the World website to the entire crew.

6) Had dinner at my parents' house and lunch at my brother and sister in law's place.

5) Went to the National Zoo and saw monkeys (which have thus eluded me during our journey).

4) Visited Lindsay Middle School. Keeping it Easy Squeezy!

3) Visited Riverside Elementary School. Staying iron like a lion in zion!

2) Visited Kiln Creek Elementary School. Can't wait to wear my Kangaroo shirt!

1) Traveled 6,494 miles.

Farewell to the Atlantic Ocean

2010-02-26T06:25:00.000-08:00

(... and Caribbean Sea)

We haven't parted ways with it yet, but as we float in Cristobal Harbor, our tenure with the Atlantic has certainly reached its denouement. I grew up swimming on its shores, from South Carolina to Delware, and have obviously sailed a fair bit of it as well.

During our trip from Virginia to Panama, we never came at odds with the Atlantic. Sure we had some swells here and there, but all in all, it was easy sailing. Of course, we always kept an eye out for any misgivings. Well aware of its potential, we were always ready to dart out of its way should it get moody.

And dart we did. We spent Virginia and North Carolina hidden in the Intracoastal Waterway. We waited in Florida for a weather window (and again in Georgetown, and yet again in South Caicos).

But when we went offshore, our days were truly pleasant. From our screaming 8 kt broad reach into Provo, to our lake-like crossing to Puerto Plata, we had the kinds of conditions that sailors wait all summer for.

Our trip across the Caribbean to Cartegena was nerve racking at times, and unpleasant at others, but it was fine. No need to be greedy.

Our most recent leg was a 16 hour overnight hop from Porvenir to Colon. A 15 kt offshore wind preceded by three days of calm gave us the opportunity to sail the WTP like the classic dinghy she always wanted to be. Sporting full sails most of the way, the WTP locked into a 15 degree heel with hardly any pitching or rolling worth mentioning.

We had to motor our final stretch into the Cristobal breakwater the next morning, but the prior night's sail seemed to be the Atlantic's fond farewell. And we'd like to thank it for serving as a most hospitable host. We had such a nice time, that we'll probably be back. In fact, I know we will.

See you in Cape Town/Gibralter.

Do They Wear Their Colonial Garb At Home?

2010-02-22T18:45:00.000-08:00

I once had the distinct pleasure of spending four years in Virginia's Colonial Capitol: Williamsburg. The city actually was, at one time, the Capitol of the Colony of Virginia, but I'm speaking in the present tense. Williamsburg is the Capitol of all things Colonial (much like New Orleans could be called the Capitol of Mardi Gras).

For those of you who haven't had the pleasure, a visit to Williamsburg is an immersion in another world. You can watch barrels and wagon wheels being made, learn how the British regiment marched in formation, and even get your picture taken in the city stocks. While wandering the streets (keeping an eye out for authentic horse droppings) you can mingle with men, women, and children dressed in colonial garb (stockings, britches, tri corner hats, and belt buckles on shoes). You'll be surrounded by other sneaker-and-shorts wearing time travelers like yourself, but pretending they don't exist gives the adventure even more presence.

Of course, Williamsburg is a historical recreation - almost a theme park of sorts (complete with concessions). The 'colonials' you meet are mere reenactors, who at the end of the day, go home and watch American Idol like the rest of us. If you ever go for a jog along Duke of Gloucester street early in the morning, you'll see a battalion of workers armed with leaf blowers, brooms, hedge clippers, and white pickup trucks that say 'Operations' on the side. This unit is replaced by the tri-corner hat brigade before the first tourists saunter in.

Oddly, that's the best I can describe the San Blas islands. I feel like we've entered another world. We're surrounded by picturesque islands covered in palm trees. Outlying reefs are awash with shipwrecks (both sailboats and freighters). And many of the islands are home to small straw huts.

The Kuna Indians live on these islands and on a porton of the Panamanian coast. The women cook fish in giant kettles while the men fish in traditional fashion from authentic wooden dugout canoes. Their lifestyle looks stolen from the pages of a 1970's era National Geographic. There are plenty of other cruisers about (one entered the anchorage yesterday blaring a song by Lady Gaga), but ignoring them immerses you fully.

Perhaps my time in Williamsburg left me jaded, but I'm half expecting to see a Kuna go around a palm tree, past an OSHA poster, and clock out next to a water cooler. On his way home he'll stop by Boston Market to pick up some dinner for the fam, and by 8:30 he'll be deep into a rerun of CSI:Miami.

The San Blas Islands are extraordinarily authentic (almost painfully so). I don't know how they do it, but the 'Operations' trucks must get going really early in the morning.

Back So Soon?

2010-02-21T19:13:00.000-08:00

The rumors are all true. I'll be back in the US in a few weeks! The primary purpose of my trip is to visit North Carolina and wrap up a few things with my graduate degree, but I'm excited to be able to visit the Hampton Roads area and home of EYE of the World. I'll be making visits to several of our participating classrooms and I also hope to see many of you at the Meet And Greet.

Things that I'm looking forward to during my visit:
- Cold weather
- Long pants
- Ice Cream
- Hot showers (with fresh water)
- A Marker 20 burger

and of course ...

- Seeing all of you on the 12th!

I Don't Know, But I'm Gonna Tell You Anyways

2010-02-19T12:55:00.000-08:00

Cartagena is a very beautiful and vibrant historical city. You can find aspects of Miami, Charleston, and Old San Juan all mixed together. However, there is one cultural quirk that I've never seen anywhere else: the strong aversion to saying 'I don't know.'

If you're looking to get somewhere, ask anyone, and they will happily (yet nonchalantly) point you in a specific direction. Some might even go through the trouble of writing an address on a sheet of paper. They will put in this effort, regardless of whether they know how to get you to your destination correctly.

On a recent trek to find the post office, I was the unknowing participant in what could even seem like an elaborately planned scavenger hunt. From one side of town to the other I went, at each location asking for directions. No two directions were the same, but none but the last actually contained the site of a post office.

In memory, I still have two pieces of paper with addresses on them in my pocket. One referred to a specific block, but to a house number and post office that did not exist. The other referred to a square, but there was little to accomplish at that location besides shop for shoes.

Maybe that was part of the scavenger hunt.

A Challenge?

2010-02-18T16:22:00.001-08:00

My mom is (understandably) a big fan and follower of www.eyeotw.org. She's also exceptionally skilled at finding good deals (and unashamedly proud of it). After reading our most recent EYElympics post about the papaya price haggle, she sent me the following e-mail:

"chyba ja bym wygrala kupno papaya"

[Translated:] "I think maybe I could have won the Papaya contest"

The Luperon Cast of Characters

2010-02-02T04:27:00.001-08:00

The night watches following departure of a particularly noteworthy location are full of reflection. I am manning the evening watch as we are about to leave Dominican waters and enter the exclusive economic zone of Haiti.

We are all overwhelmed by the positive experience we had in Luperon. Much like Coconut Grove, we were surrounded by caring, kindhearted, and thoroughly entertaining people. I was pondering writing the entire story of our stay, however it would most likely revert to sentimental rambling. Instead, let me tell you about the people we met.

Then imagining putting them all in one room together.

Dominican Port Authority:

Benjamin - We never quite figured out what his official role or title was, but he certainly kept himself busy hassling boaters. Upon our arrival, he quickly hopped on our boat and while displaying an annoyed authoritative tone, ordered us to raft up to the stern of two fishing boats on the commercial dock for an inspection (according to other boaters, no one else has ever received this kind of special attention). He still had a grudge against us during our departure formalities, even getting into an argument with the Commandante. Benjamin normally inspects boats about to leave before handing over the 'Despatcho,' however, the prospect of a romantic rowboat ride changed his plans. After one last attempt to extort a 'tip,' he handed over our paperwork at the dinghy dock and went on his way to hassle another American boat that had just arrived.

Commandante: An official from the Navy assigned on a rotating basis to oversee the harbor. This individual filled out our final departure forms, while at the same time keeping Benjamin at bay. He was very professional and amiable towards us.

Immigration Officer: Although Luperon is a popular cruising destination, the actual volume of individuals entering the country is low. This official often sat in a lawn chair at the end of the dock, often engrossed in mild conversation with anyone who wished to stop and chat. Very nice on a daily basis, he seemed a little annoyed when we caught him on a break in town and requested his services so that we could leave the country.

Cruisers:

Captain Bob Daly: A very personable bearded cruiser, Bob was enlisted by Benjamin to bring him to our boat when we first arrived. As Benjamin climbed onto our boat, Bob shot us a look of warning from his dinghy. We would later catch Bob all over town, always cheery and ready for a chat. He's very proud of the size of the holding tank on his boat.

Moe: The first cruiser to introduce himself to us, Moe stopped into Luperon for a one week stay seven months ago. An avid Curious George fan, Moe has a wry sense of humor and is proud of having only one friend on facebook. Moe and his ketch 'Wadda' will be departing soon for Cartagena and the Panama Canal. Hopefully we will cross paths again.

Shaggy's Mom (Lynn): Enlisted by her son to help run his restaurant in town (Shaggy's Barstool Sailor), Lynn enjoys meeting new cruisers in the harbor almost as much as she likes hanging out with them at Shaggy's. Her personality could best be described as a cross between opinionated and sassy.

Shaggy: Not satisfied simply cruising, Shaggy, opened and operates one of the most popular hangouts in town. The most casual atmosphere you could imagine, you feel like you're hanging out at a friend's house rather than a business establishment. He hosts an open mic night on Wednesdays, complete with a Dominican friend on bongos (whose skills can only be described as epic). I brought my guitar out and had the best 'gig' of my entire life there.

Bruce: A man who literally wrote the book on sailing the thorny path, Bruce Van Sant (with his wife Rosa), is a Luperon fixture. Much more self-assured and disorganized in person than in his book, striking up a conversation with him yesterday evening was one of the most entertaining things I've done in my life. I'm eagerly anticipating the release of his next book: a how-to guide for naïve young men looking for love.

Donnie: An American from Florida, Donnie's jean shorts and mullet scream 'I'm here to have a good time.' The Dominican Republic has not disappointed him.

Dave: A karaoke and radio DJ in his prior life, Dave's penchant for entertaining is still strong inside of him. Besides being a true pleasure to play along with at open mic night, Dave runs a heck of a karaoke show on Friday nights.

Pennywhistle Canvas: Miriam cruised and then settled in Luperon several years ago. She operates a canvas/chart business in town. She helped us get set up with charts for our next legs, and her proper english accent is delightful. Trevor is planning on framing his picture with her.

Al: Having grown up in Gloucester, Virginia, Al's first job was at Crown Pointe Marina (then called Cook's Landing). Small world!! During the regular Sunday afternoon jam session at the Luperon Yacht Club, Al joined us on banjo, mandolin, guitar, and harmonica. He even met up with Alan the next day to give him some banjo tutelage. We were thrilled to hear his pitch-perfect guinea-talk.

Jeffrey and Lucy: This pair needs special mention. We first met them at the jam session at the yacht club. Lucy plays flute spectacularly and can throw a beautiful riff on top of almost anything. Jeff plays guitar and, having grown up in London as a self-admitted 'mod,' you can see a certain glimmer in his eye when he talks about The Who, The Rolling Stones, and Led Zeppelin. The pair met in Luperon, and two people couldn't complement each other as well as they do. Whether around town, at open mic night, or at karaoke, it is hard to describe how pleasant their company is.

Jeffrey had requested that we contact him on the radio before leaving town. After spending our last pesos, taking care of clearance formalities, and prepping the boat, we did just that. What followed was very surreal. He announced our departure to the entire harbor, wished us well, and then broadcast a beautiful sea shanty over the radio. Upon its completion, there was a chorus of well wishes from other cruisers. We were only in Luperon for a week, however we felt nothing but sincere love from everyone we met.

Once more, the hardest part of sailing around the world is saying goodbye.

Cruiser's Running Guide: Luperon, DR

2010-01-25T11:31:00.000-08:00

Location: Luperon, Dominican Republic
Distance: 4.3 nm
Customizable?: Somewhat
Overall Score: 9/10
Hilliness: 5/10
Variety: 9/10
Scenery: 8/10
Safety: 9/10
Stray Dog Potential: 2/10 (but all non-aggressive and lazy)
Type: Urban & rural asphalt
Time of Day: Late afternoon

NOTES: This is one of the most enjoyable runs I have done in a long time. The scenery change is tremendous. You begin in the heart of the vibrant town of Luperon, and soon enter a quiet rural road. Following this up a slight hill, you are granted excellent views of the harbor before being taken down through some woods and out into the Caribbean sea on an old jetty. If you've sailed to Luperon, chances are you've used Bruce Van Sant's cruising guide; thus finish your run with an SG&T at Shaggy's in town.
This run is listed as an out and back, but feel free to shorten it by finishing with your SG&T at the Luperon Yacht Club and arranging a dinghy pick-up from your helpful crewmates instead. Enjoy!

START: From the Luperon town dinghy dock, take a right towards land.

.2 - Keep R at the Y (Shaggy's is up about 50 yrds on the left of the Y).

.27 - 'Pica Polla Comedor Waly' is on your right; an excellent spot for a local meal.

.36 - R at the ornamental stoplight onto 27 de Febrevo. Follow this out of the town.

1.11 - R through large arched gate (follow signs for Puerto Blanco Marina).

1.56 - Enter roundabout, keep R.

1.68 - L at intersection (R if you want to go to the Marina or Yacht Club).

1.82 - R in front of Hotasa Tropical Beach.

1.99 - Go around metal and wire gate (path on R). Follow the same road straight and to the L.

2.29 - Run out to the end of the breakwater. A small beach is on L, and the entrance to Luperon Harbor is on R. Turn around and re-trace your steps into town.

4.08 - At the ornamental stop light, go one more block.

4.13 - Turn L.

4.30 - Finish at Shaggy's! Your first beverage in Luperon is free.

My Favorite Constellation

2010-01-22T21:02:00.000-08:00

I've never been extraordinarily skilled at picking out constellations. I truly enjoy a dark night sky. In the right circumstances, I've been able to pick out the milky way, the moon, the northern lights, and the occasional shooting star. However, constellations fail me. Maybe I'm not imaginative enough, but I find it hard to see how a set of four stars looks like a bear.

The constellation I most enjoy is Orion. A feature of the winter sky in the northen hemisphere, Orion reminds me cold, crisp winter camping trips, campfires, and snowfall. Also, he's ridiculously easy to pick out. His three star belt, hanging sword, and four stars signifying his shoulders and legs are clearly visible in all but the brightest skies.

I never figured out why society had settled on a hunter for Orion. When I tilt my head just right, I see a butterfly, kite, or even a delightful bowtie. I had heard stories of a head, arms, and a cocked shoulder pulling back a bowstring, but I had never seen them.

That is, until our crossing from South Caicos to Puerto Plata. I had an evening watch on a calm night. The winds were trying to decide whether to be light or variable (but not both), and the ocean was almost as calm as the Lincoln Memorial reflecting pool. Looking up, I basked in the dark night sky, but all of a sudden I noticed something.

I saw a clear semi-circle making up a stressed bow. I saw a bow string. I saw an arm holding an arrow, muscles quivering, ready to release. And I almost even saw the squinted focus in the hunter's eye.

With just a few more pieces of the puzzel, Orion began to look like so much more. I had never seen it quite like that before. Now, even hidden my the nearby city lights, I still see the hunter in all is glory.

And that's why Orion is still my favorite constellation.

The Cruiser's Running Guide: Puerto Plata Cross Training

2010-01-22T05:08:00.000-08:00

Not every workout needs to be a run, and when you're near Puerto Plata, Mt. Isabel de Torres provides a wonderful opportunity to get a really nice hike in. Although I have plenty of trail-runner friends back in North Carolina that would not shy away from the chance to run up a mountain, I consider myself a more moderate athlete.

In all my prior 'Cruiser's Running Guide' posts, I list all distances and turns to make with two-digit accuracy. I've brought a handheld GPS on every run, along with a piece of paper and a pen to take notes. I didn't do so today, so you'll enjoy a more narrative description, rather than mapquest-esque instructions.

Location: Puerto Plata, Dominican Republic
Distance: 2700 ft vertical elevation; (2 hours up, 1.5 hours down).
Customizable?: You can take the Tram back to the bottom
Overall Score: 8/10
Hilliness: 10/10
Variety: 5/10
Scenery: 9/10
Safety: 8/10 (don't get lost)
Stray Dog Potential: 2/10 (at the bottom, but all very lazy)
Type: Intermediate mountain hike. Single track, switchbacks , some mud, and a bit of scrambling.
Time of Day: Morning

NOTES: This hike is well worth it. The mountain rises 2700 feet from the edge of the city and provides wonderful panoramic views at the top. There is a cable car ($10) that can take you to the summit where you'll also find a small café, gift shop, botanical gardens, and a Rio-esque statue of Jesus overlooking the city.

The most difficult part of the hike is finding the trailhead. We had heard it was near the base of the tram, but once we started looking, we were swarmed by locals wanting to serve as tour guides (we were quoted $25 per person for a guide to take us to the top). Feel free to take a guide if you'd like, but if you're comfortable hiking in the woods, there is no need for a guide. The trail is not marked, but once you get going, it is rather easy to follow.

Make sure you make all regular preparations when going on a hike. Bring water, good shoes, keep your wits about you, and watch the weather.

START: From Ocean World in Cofresi, take any wawa bus into Puerto Plata. You can pick them up by walking about a mile up the road and past the Lifestyle Resort onto the main highway. There'll usually be one sitting on the far side of the road and cost 25 pesos per person.

While riding in, keep an eye out on your right for the mountain and cable car. A bit after you cross a bridge over a river, there will be a wide road going up and to the right. There will be a large billboard advertising the 'Telefrico' up to the top, as well as a pack of kids washing their motorbikes on the side of the road. Hop off the wawa and walk up this road.

After about a mile, you'll get up to the end of the road where you'll see the base of the Tram. Ignore all the guides and turn back onto the road you just came. Take your first right onto a paved road into a residential neighborhood. After 300 yrds, take your first right down onto a side residential street (unpaved). Take this road down the hill until you get to a yellow bridge over a creek. Turn right and 50 yrds up, veer right between the buildings onto the slightly narrower, yet still clear road. You should be walking along the creek with a school to the left of you.

Up ahead you will pass a baseball field to your left, and you will see the path you are on go into the woods. You are now on the maintenance road that goes up to the Tram tower. Walk all the way up to the base of the Tram tower, then turn around and take your first left onto a single-track path about a quarter mile down (there are several other paths splitting off the maintenance road, so using the overshoot-and-backtrack method ensures that you take the right one). About 500 yrds ahead on the singletrack, the trail will turn right and go over cobblestone looking rocks. 25 yrds ahead is the foundation of an old house. Turn back around to where the cobblestones began, and take a right (as if you had kept going straight originally). The correct trail isn't as clear here, but it will become more obvious within 50 yrds.

From here on out, you're pretty much golden all the way to the top. Stay on the obvious trail. You'll rise up quickly, begin a series of switchbacks, and come out onto a ridge with your first great views. Right where the switchbacks begin, it looks like there's another trail that goes off to the left. Take the switchbacks upward.

You'll pass under a low-hanging powerline and eventually leave the ridge and switchbacks and traverse upward on the western face of the mountain. The forest gets denser and muddier here. At one point the trail levels out and follows the contour for a good ways.

The forest will eventually get denser, and you'll find yourself scrambling up a mixture of creek-bed washout and trail. At this point the trail gets steep again. Work your way up the most beaten path and you will shortly pop out onto a paved road. Take note of where you popped out onto the road (right near where the yellow curb ends and the power lines cross from the downhill to the uphill side of the road) for your trip back.

Follow the road up about another mile, and you'll come out to the summit, great views, and a great spot to eat your lunch!

ENJOY!

The Sun Also Rises

2010-01-15T04:30:00.001-08:00

'What do you do all day?'

'We sail a boat.'

'Yeah, but what do you do all day?'

Sailing can be a rather involving, yet also oftentimes relaxing, proposition. It requires you to always be aware of your surroundings. 'Is the boat on course?' 'Is she trimmed as well as she could be?'

While offshore, sailing is much like traversing a steep icy driveway in loafers. You develop a slight hint of nausea as the boat bucks and yawls through the waves, and you nervously hang on to your mental focus, lest you lose your footing and plummet to a state of useless misery.

But when you're in the lee of land or crossing protected banks (as we are today), sailing is the kind of venture you could shamelessly bring your mother along for. Days like today are truly relaxing. Even more relaxing than being anchored in an uninteresting locale (as Provo proved to be).

With nothing to do you sit; and it's more relaxing to sit, knowing that you're on your way to new territory.

So, 'What do you do all day?'

'We sail a boat.'

This means many things: offshore you cling to your stomach, food, and sleep. At night you soak in the desolation. And on a beautiful day like today, I like to read.

Almost every marina has a 'book swap' shelf. Most of the time you have to shift through a sea of gripping romance novellas to find any real gems, but once in awhile you find something useful.

In New Bern I picked up a cookie-cutter Grisham (good to pass the time). In Ft. Lauderdale I picked up a book on developmental econ (still in the que). And in Nassau, I picked up 'The Sun Also Rises' by Ernest Hemingway.

I'm going to avoid starting a 'Cruiser's Book Review' series, but I will say that I thoroughly enjoyed it.

"My Greatest Discovery Was Bimini" - Ernest Hemingway

2010-01-12T07:35:00.000-08:00

Although Ernest Hemingway was talking about the small Bahamian island off the coast of Florida, here on the William T. Piquette, we're proud of our own bimini (the blue sunshade over the top of the cockpit). Much like the soft top on a convertible car, our bimini can go up our down at our heart's content. It usually stays down during night or in heavy winds/seas, but when the sun comes out, so does the bimini!

Although life outdoors in the near tropics is great, staying out of the sun is a daily chore. Long sleeves and sunscreen abound; while any opportunity to put some canvas between us and the sky is dearly relished. The bimini really changes the quality of cockpit life, and we would not want to cruise without it.

The Cruiser's Running Guide: Georgetown

2010-01-07T16:34:00.000-08:00

Location: Georgetown, Bahamas
Distance: 3.6 nm
Customizable?: Minimally
Overall Score: 6/10
Hilliness: 2/10
Variety: 8/10
Scenery: 4/10
Safety: 8/10
Stray Dog Potential: 6/10
Type: mixed - asphalt and broken rock
Time of Day: Sunset

NOTES: Somewhat of a hectic run (a busy road for one stretch), but you end up getting plopped out onto some back roads and you see a side of Great Exuma Island that few do. The route starts in the familiar vicinity of Lake Victoria, but soon thrusts you into rural, undeveloped land, before sending you back through a mild suburban neighborhood. This run also provided me the motivation to take my first shower of 2010. Enjoy!

START: From the Exuma Markets dinghy dock, take a right, keeping Lake Victoria to starboard.

.13 - R at intersection; continue on the Lake Victoria loop road

.24 - Eddie's Edgewater on L

.49 - L at intersection. Cars here travel fast so be careful.

1.12 - L at Ministry of Works and Utilities. Stay on road as it turns right. Rural road begins soon.

1.34 - L at T

1.48 - L at bottom of the hill (optional: this is a short out and back that gives you some additional miles, but isn't worth all that much otherwise)

1.62 - bear R

1.69 - road ends, turn around

1.90 - back where you were, turn L

2.07 - L (follow powerlines)

2.17 - abandoned bunker on L

2.24 - massive pile of old refrigerators on L, gravel pit on R, continue straight and to the left through the tunnel of trees

2.47 - L at T (back on asphalt)

2.54 - L at T

2.94 - R at T (back on busy road)

3.05 - Lots of coconuts on R at abandoned motel

3.24 - L at Y (back on Lake Victoria loop road)

3.60 - END at Exuma Markets

All distances are in nautical miles.

A Quick Stopover In Staniel Cay

2010-01-04T08:38:00.000-08:00

Since leaving Nassau, we've picked up a new type of cruising schedule. Instead of sailing long stretches and then visiting a location for a solid day, we've been waking up at sunrise, sailing about 15-20 miles, and then spending our afternoons on location. We haven't traveled through the night since our crossing to the Bahamas.

The stretch of islands we've been hoping down are called the Exumas. Most are small, uninhabited, and picturesque cays lining the edge of the Bahama bank. We've seen quite the sites:

Day 1: Allen Cay (Iguanas!)
Day 2: Normans Cay (sunken airplane!)
Day 3: Shroud Cay (mangroves!)
Day 4: Warderick Wells (Boo Boo Hill!)
Day 5: Staniel Cay (Thunderball Grotto!)

From here on forward, we're going to do some minor repair work in Georgetown (oil change, varnish touch-up, cleaning, gear inspection, etc), and then start thinking about the Turks and Caicos!

The Bahamas have been great, but due to the proximity, we still feel like we haven't left the US yet. There are almost as many mega-yachts as in Fort Lauderdale, all the sailors are American (or French Canadian), and all of the local Bahamians know who they're selling to (fresh bread, although delicious, was still $5 per loaf).

The islands, however, are immaculate. The water is almost crystal clear and the areas in Exuma Park are teeming with wildlife (less so elsewhere).

A great time, but personally, I'm still looking to get lost in foreign cities and truly leave the beaten path.

The Cruiser's Running Guide: Normans Cay, Bahamas

2009-12-31T15:47:00.001-08:00

Location: Normans Cay, Bahamas
Distance: 4.6 nm
Customizable?: Yes
Overall Score: 5/10
Hilliness: 1/10
Variety: 2/10
Scenery: 4/10
Safety: 10/10
Stray Dog Potential: 0/10
Type: broken asphalt/packed sand
Time of Day: Sunset

NOTES: a nice out and back run that will take you on an old rural road through a mostly uninhabited island. Not a lot of opportunities for views, but if you felt a little hazzeled by the urban trip through Nassau, this is for you. A good trail surface to put some healthy miles in (potentially up to 8 nm on an out and back run). Enjoy!

START: From the southern anchorage of Normans Cay, dinghy to shore at the sandy beach next to the pier. Take the road up and to the right.

.35 - runway and MacDuff's off to the left, continue straight.

.56 - end of runway behind you. Continue straight, watch for planes

1.21 - top of first 'hill.'

1.55 - road down to the right takes you to a view of Normans Pond

2.25 - top of hill (my turn around point)

4.18 - if you hang to the right onto the runway, you'll find MacDuff's on the right. Stop in and make a reservation for lunch or dinner. Then cross the runway and take a right back onto the road.

4.60 - END

All distances are in nautical miles.

The Cruiser's Running Guide: Nassau

2009-12-29T12:18:00.000-08:00

I can't run everyday, or even on some sort of a schedule. However, when I get the chance to 'get a run in,' I jump at the opportunity. Here you will find my first installment of my Cruiser's Running Guide to the World. All distances are in nautical miles.

Location: Nassau, Bahamas
Distance: 4.06 nm
Customizable?: Yes
Overall Score: 7/10
Hilliness: 2/10
Variety: 7/10
Scenery: 6/10
Safety: 8/10
Stray Dog Potential: 7/10 (but non-aggressive)
Type: Urban (pavement)
Time of Day: Sunrise

NOTES: a very nice run that will take you through retail, government, and residential districts. Plenty to see along the way, so be prepared for frequent 'stretch breaks.' Keep in mind, Bahamians drive on the left side of the road, so remember to run on the right into onto oncoming traffic. This route has sidewalks along all the busy streets. Cars and people were generally very accommodating. Enjoy!

START: Leave Nassau Yacht Haven, turn R onto Bay Street

.5 - BASRA on right

1.0 - Enter retail district of Bay St

1.5 - Museum of Slavery and Straw Market on right.
Take a L at the T, and an immediate R onto Marlborough St

1.6 - McDonald's and US Embassy on left

1.64 - Marlborough St veers right, continue straight down residential alley past International House on left and towards KURA KURA.

1.75 - After third speed bump, take a left before the blue two story building labeled 51 Capital House.

1.85 - Pass a large, old Catholic cemetery on your right. The St. Francis Xavier Cathedral will be on your left.

1.92 - L at the stop sign at the top of the hill.

1.98 - on the right, you will see some narrow warehouses behind a fence. This is the home of the Junkanoo gang "One Family." Stop by and say hello.

2.0 - Cross West St. and continue down the residential alley straight ahead. To the right on West St. Is the Junkanoo museum. To the left is the National Art Gallery of the Bahamas.

2.07 - At T, turn L.

2.13 - At T, turn R onto West Hill St.

2.21 - Cross Blue Hill St, turn L, and take an immediate R onto Duke St. The Government House is on your right.

2.31 - R onto Peck Slope, next to intersection with Market St.

2.37 - L onto East Hill near Providence House

2.56 - R on East St.

2.59 - First L onto Sands Rd.

2.71 - T at Elizabeth Ave. If you want to throw a stair workout in, the Queen's staircase is to the right. 65 stairs take you up to Fort Fincastle and a beautiful view of the city.
Otherwise, turn L

2.92 - R on Bay St.

4.06 - END at Nassau Yacht Haven

Helping Hands

2009-12-27T10:34:00.000-08:00

You may have seen some people onboard the WTP other than Alan, Trevor, and myself. Although there are three permanent crewmembers onboard, we prefer to travel with four. The fourth, or Guest Crewmember helps spread the burden of labor while underway. Having the additional person means an additional watch cycle (more time off), an extra hand for boat work, and some added conversational variety. Despite the lavish lifestyle, the Guest Crewmember does not get their own berth, but rather sleeps on the settee.

You may have already gotten to know Liz back in November. Liz is a good friend from Newport News and was instrumental in helping us get off the ground and make our way south. Unfortunately, Liz had to leave us in Florida.

To help us with our next leg, we were lucky to have my good friend Deb onboard. She joined us right before leaving Coconut Grove and is with us until Nassau.

Thanks again to our Guest Crewmembers! Although they might not be as visible through the EYE of the World educational program, they play an important role onboard!

Sunrise In The Bahamas!

2009-12-24T04:57:00.000-08:00

We entered the territorial waters of the Bahamas more than 50 hours ago, but it still took us awhile to get to where we were going.

Quick rehash of events since we left Cape Florida:

We had been watching weather and wave reports for several days, and sought advice from other cruisers, both local (there were about 15 other boats in No Name Harbor), and afar (thanks Richard!). Everyone had a different opinion on what defines a 'weather window.' One German couple that had already circumnavigated once were going to wait until after Christmas and the prevailing east winds settled back in. A French Canadian couple was going to wait until Thursday night and try to ride the southerly and westerly winds that precede storm fronts down here.

We were anxious to go. Everyone's advice was based on being 'uncomfortable' - itself a very qualitative measure. Wave height predictions were 4-6 feet with a north wind. Nothing we hadn't seen before, so we were wondering, 'is this crossing overhyped?'

Richard, our friend sitting in the warm southern Carribean, we figured would give us honest advice. After all, he wasn't trying to rationalize a crossing decision like some of the other cruisers in the harbor.

"When there's a northerly element to the wind, the crossing can be pretty rough; that part isn't overhyped. Will it be uncomfortable? Probably not with only 10 knots, but even 15 knots will start building very short period waves that will kill your speed, make you uncomfortable, and probably result in taking you further north than you'd like. Best bet is to get out there and try it; you can always come back."

With winds forecasted at 10-15 kts from the North, and our next possible window not until Thursday night, we decided to try it, and if anything, we could always come back.

We left at 2 AM and found the conditions and predictions to be much what we expected. Wave heights were probably a little less than 4-6 feet, the wind was 10-15, and the resulting stream-wind interaction did produce choppy conditions that tossed us around a little. The only downer was that the wind clocked around to the northeast, making the passage an upwind beat instead of a more pleasing beam reach.

By noon, we caught sight of land, the water turned a pastel blue, and our depth sounder quickly went from being clocked out, to reading 50 feet.

Crossing through the cut at Gun Cay, we entered the Great Bahama Bank. We still had another 26 hours of sailing to go (courtesy of our destination being directly upwind), but the water here was consistently between 8-15 feet deep the entire time.

Now we're outside Great Harbor Cay eating breakfast after a very restful night's sleep. Today is Christmas Eve (we'll be celebrating in true Polish fashion with Wigilia) and we're all excited and hopeful that Santa will find us here, many miles from home.

Leaving Coconut Grove, Miami, Florida, and the USA

2009-12-17T08:18:00.000-08:00

The hardest part about sailing is saying goodbye. Minutes after arriving in port, we meet wonderful friends, but within a few days or weeks, we find ourselves saying farewell.

Here in Coconut Grove, we have so many people to thank. There's no way to list everyone, but I can try:

At the club: Alyn, Nick, Lee, Peggy, Pat, Duane, Bill Beavers, Dragan, Kocky, Pepper, John, Kevin, Bruce, Terry, Rick, Commanding Officer Bondi, Jose, Mike, Geneva, Tom, Don, Ronnie, Daniella, and everyone else who has stopped by, said hi, and offered advice and encouragement (I know I've forgotten at least 25 people)!

The Piquette Family and Friends: Kirstie, Holly, Louise, William, Chris and everyone else who flew down to visit!

Ada Merritt: Ms. Forand, Ms. Padiernie, Mrs. Fletcher, Patrick, and all the other great students and teachers!

Thank you for everything! Goodbye and keep in touch!

Dead Horse Ritual

2009-12-10T19:47:00.000-08:00

The other night we performed a famous and historical act known as the 'Dead Horse Ritual.' This goes back to times long past and is a celebration of a sailor's first month at sea.

Traditionally, a sailor would embark on a ship to earn money, and after a month, would receive their first paycheck. To celebrate the fact that the sailor was no longer in debt (their horse was dead), they would take a piece of old clothing and fashion it into a horse. They would then drag this stuffed horse across the decks and sing a sea chanty, and eventually burn the horse. We performed the same ritual to celebrate our first month at sea.

The chanty goes like this:

I say, old man, your horse is dead.
An' we say so, an' we hope so!
I say, old man, your horse is dead.
Oh! Poor old Man!

One month a rotten life we've led.
An' we say so, an' we hope so!
While you lay on y'er feather bed.
Oh! Poor old Man!

But now th' month is up, ol' turk.
An' we say so, an' we hope so!
Get up, ye swine, an' look for work.
Oh! Poor old Man!

Get up, ye swine, an' look for graft.
An' we say so, an' we hope so!
While we lays on an' yanks ye aft.
Oh! Poor old Man!

An' yanks ye aft t' th' cabin door.
An' we say so, an' we hope so!
An' hopes we'll ne-ver see ye more.
Oh! Poor old Man!

November 2009 In Photos

2009-12-05T21:36:00.000-08:00

November flew by very quickly. We're always snapping photos of everything so I thought I'd pull together some of my favorites.

Why Do It?

2009-12-01T14:40:00.000-08:00

George Mallory (1886-1924) was a famous mountaineer. In the days before Sir Edmund Hillary, back when many of our planet's highest peaks remained unconquered, Mallory made a name for himself as a climber throughout Europe and Asia. The world had high hopes for him to be the first to climb Mt. Everest, the earth's highest mountain. This was in the early 1920s (the mountain was not successfully summited until 1953); before much of the safety and support equipment common today existed.

Someone once asked Mallory why he wanted to climb Everest. He replied with a three word response: "Because it's there."

This is probably one of the most famous, yet unsatisfactory responses to any question in history.

Since leaving Virginia, we've been getting constant e-mails from different teachers and students (here's a special shout out to Lindsay Middle, Kiln Creek, and Riverside! - keep them coming!). Besides all the great guesses for Name That Creature, we've also gotten a number of important questions, such as:

Do you guys go fishing on the boat and if so, what have you caught or when do you plan on fishing?

Have you seen any sharks yet?

Did you get a hotel while you're waiting out the storm???

What type of fajita was that?

However, the toughest question we've received is similar to the question posed to Mallory: "Why are you sailing around the world?"

I am in no way attempting to compare us to George Mallory, nor am I proposing similarities between sailing around the world and being the first to climb the highest mountain in the world. Mallory was a bold ground-breaker fully deserving of his fame, and climbing Mt. Everest is a far tougher feat than pointing a sailboat downwind in the tropical sun.

However, the question has a similar motivation: there are luxuries onshore not afforded to a cruising sailboat such as air conditioning, refrigeration, and beds long enough to support my 6'3" frame. Life onshore also has certain degrees of certainty, schedule, and distraction that do not exist on a 40' sailboat. With a qualitative list of pros and cons, it seems that life on shore wins hands down.

In my field of economics, it is common to observe the actions of individuals and attempt to reconcile the underlying motivations. We often use the abstract and relative term 'utility' to quantify those motivations. In its simplest form, an individual will choose one alternative over all others because it gives the decision maker the highest level of relative utility.

Each of us on the crew has chosen to sail around the world because it gives us the highest level of relative utility compared to all other alternatives. We each made a mental list of pros and cons (as does every person with every decision made), and sailing around the world won out. To each of us, there's something about this experience that outweighs air conditioning, refrigeration, and certainty. And thus, here we are.

Fundamentally, this is something that each of us wanted to do. Sailing around the world may not be everybody's dream, but it was ours. So we sat down, figured out what it would take to sail around the world, decided it was within reach, and then put in the time and effort to make it happen. Pairing up with EYE of the World made the experience even more appealing to us. This all of a sudden went from a dream to a mission that we all believed in.

Now we're in the midst of a circumnavigation. It's a lot of work, but this is not the highest mountain in the world, nor are we the first to do it.

However, it is unconventional and in its core, life on the boat is not as glamorous as it might seem. Our boat is not a toy, and sailing is not a game. As exquisite as our vessel may be, she requires constant care and attention. The sea is full of wind, rain, waves, reefs, and rocks ... and enough fog and night to hide it all.

And that brings us back to Mr. Draft's students' question: "Why are you sailing around the world?" In the end, my response is unfortunately as unsatisfactory as George Mallory's:

Because we can.

Sunrise In Miami

2009-11-26T06:11:00.000-08:00

After getting in last night, we stopped on shore for some delicious pizza and to celebrate/mourn Liz's impending departure.

Fellow Adventurers

2009-11-25T13:27:00.000-08:00

Sailing around the world sounds like a picnic compared to what some new friends of ours are doing. Yesterday we got the chance to meet up with Dan and Bethany Cox of Raleigh, North Carolina. Through some connections we have through the paddling community (www.watertribe.com), we were visited by Dan and Bethany as they paddled south through the ICW. They have been Kayaking from the US/Canada border in Maine since December of 2008. They have been traveling by human power and carrying everything they need (food, clothes, shelter) in their kayaks.

They are only about 2 weeks away from completing their incredible adventure. Check out their website at http://dbkayak.com/.

Daytona Beach Sunrise

2009-11-19T04:39:00.000-08:00

Westerly winds filled in around midnight and have held strong, giving us a solid 5-6 knots of progress. We're taking a wide route now to clear the security zone around Cape Canaveral (there was a shuttle launch a few days ago and there is an Atlas V launch on Monday). We should clear the Cape by sundown tonight.

Florida Sunrise

2009-11-18T04:01:00.000-08:00

After an exhilarating evening sail (running at about 7.5 knots), and an arduously slow and rolly night, we've now made it to Florida! The breeze is starting to fill in, and full sails make the boat less susceptible to the ocean swell. Ready for another beautiful day.

Sunrise Off The Georgia Coast

2009-11-17T04:32:00.001-08:00

Sailing through the night is always spectacular. Clear skies with no moon on a broad reach is icing on the cake. We had all of that last night ... and more. The dark sky gave us a clear view of the milky way and all the stars of orion.

Additionally, as we slid through the water, our wake disturbed millions of zooplankton. Individually, each would give off a short dim burst of light. Collectively, the gave the waters behind us a blue iridescent glow.

Most spectacular, however, were the dolphins. Seeing a pod join us and play in our wake is old news. Last night, however, as we sailed along silently, we began to hear the chirps of dolphin conversation below. As we stepped on deck, we saw that swimming dolphins disturb zooplankton much the way the WTP does. We saw about a dozen dolphins darting around the boat and playing in the bow wave, only a few feet away from us.

More accurately, we didn't see the dolphins; we saw ghostly glowing outlines and cloudy trails of faded blue light darting all around us. As the animals breached the surface to breath, the glow would disappear; replaced instead by their dark bodies. But as they dove, the waters would alight again.

We sat on the bow for almost an hour, mesmerized by the light show as Beauregard (our self-steering windvane) kept us on course. Trevor almost had to be tied to the mast, as these glowing sirens seemed to be calling him to join in the fun.

A City In Photo Captions

2009-11-15T16:46:00.000-08:00

Through most of our visit to Charleston, I realize we had provided all of our followers with plenty of photos, but no stories, leaving each to piece the parts together on their own. I thus decided to put together a string of photo captions to briefly summarize our site visit, separate from our full set of program updates. Starting with "IMG00161-20091113-1537.jpg" :

Charleston Coast Guard Station (next to which we anchored),

Ashley River Bridge

First laundry in a week (since New Bern)

Apparently someone had started a fire in the past

A tribute to Charleston's trading history (and source of much of its wealth)

The Palmetto State

Charleston Market at Night

Fountain!

Residential Alley

Fountain in Waterfront Park

Bluegrass Band playing in a venue

The nearby marina in the morning

Bucksport Sausage! YUM!

Alan updating the Ship's Log

Alan playing with his food

Our boat at anchor, and our method of transportation to shore

A little to the right Alan!

Another yawl under sail

Downtown Charleston

Non-indigenous Multicolor Penguins

Historic Buildings

Comparing French Skillets

Novice Busker!

Riviera Theatre

Charleston Market

Inside the Market

Charleston Hat Store!

The Charleston Market 100 years ago

The Charleston Market today

Charleston Hat Man! (original sign from 100 years ago)

Many Tourist Attractions

Not a horse … not a donkey

Traffic Jam

More Bars in More Places

Old Guard House

German Cruiseship

Deutschland

Peering at the waterfront

Two Scoops!

Cooper River Bridge

Sunset over Charleston

Looking down the riverfront

Alan tightening the head nuts on the engine (standard maintenance)

Liz varnishing the toerail

Trevor and his sweet shades

A reworked sewage system with a new mercerator pump

The row

Old Charleston Homes

More traffic

Charleston is known for its churches

A standard city block

Steeple

Walking through downtown

The EYE Crew entertaining the crowd

Local Art

Apparently you need a license to play music downtown (although don't worry, no tickets or trips to jail, just a notice on how to get a musician's license)

Head Of The Alligator River

2009-11-05T04:03:00.000-08:00

We've run through the night on the ICW. I was on watch from 4 to 8 PM yesterday, and was on call for Liz from 8 till 11.

We run a watch schedule that divides the day into seven periods (4 hour shifts from 8 AM until 8 PM and 3 hour shifts from 8 PM until 8 AM the next morning). There are 4 different roles for crew members: watch, call, off, and cook.

The person on 'watch' is responsible for safe navigation of the vessel.

When we finish watch, we go on 'call'. That involves making yourself available to the watch to change sails, check charts, or spot navigation markers. If the watch does not need any assistance, this time also doubles as free/sleep time.

After being on call, we go 'off.'. This is pure free time. A chance to catch up on sleep, emails, reading, etc.

The final role is the cook. During meal times (defined as anytime the crew is hungry), the cook prepares a meal. This may be something elaborate (most likely combining Chris and Karen's spice kit with Big Daddy's Teriyaki sauce) or simple (PB&J on tortilla). During night, this counts as sleep time.

The entire cycle repeats itself every 4 days; thus giving everyone a chance to serve every role at every time of the day.

I picked up watch this morning from Trevor at 5, giving me a solid 6 hours of sleep. It's not the recommended 8, but I'll be off today at 12 PM when I can grab a nap if needed.

Sunrise On The C&A

2009-11-04T03:43:00.001-08:00

Sunrise At Mile Zero

2009-11-03T04:17:00.001-08:00

It's early in the morning as we sit anchored in between Portsmouth and Norfolk, Virginia. Today we will begin our trek south into the ICW with the goal of making it to North Landing by the afternoon.

Leaving Gloucester

2009-10-26T20:37:00.000-07:00

Right now we are making our final preparations to leave Gloucester, Virginia. There has been a whirlwind of activity, but things are finally coming together.

This is a very common conversation I have been having:

Person: "So are you done with the boat?"
Me: "Well, there still a lot to do, but I feel like we're getting the major things out of the way."
Person: "Is your to-do list getting smaller?"
Me: "No, technically it's getting bigger."
Person: "What else do you have left to do?"
Me: "We haven't thought of it yet, but we'll have to do it."

Our major goal is to get underway. This adventure will be a combination of working on a boat, sailing a boat, and spending time away from the boat wondering if its still floating.

I can't wait.