Category: Living on a boat

Moce -bye – Fiji

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Today is the day this adventure ends. We have been in Fiji since early June. I am flying back tomorrow and Dean left to sail back yesterday with crew. After a rough day – with “synchronised puking” as Dean put it – they sheltered in Kadavu overnight without going ashore there. They left early this morning, aiming for Norfolk for now, in case they need to shelter again. The 25-30knots SE winds should start to ease from later tonight. The season has changed: The wind has not come round to the North like it usually does, so the trip may take longer. Also, clearing into New Zealand has changed. As of 1st of September 2018 there are only four ports that take pleasure boats (such a dumb word): Opua, Whangarei, Picton and Lyttleton. So plans to clear into New Plymouth have been given the boot and they’ll aim for Picton, weather permitting.

You can track Pebbles, Dean, Pete and Phil on: https://forecast.predictwind.com/tracking/display/Pebbles

Our trip this year has covered fewer nautical miles but more depth in experience. We stayed at Suva, Leleuvia, Ovalau, Makogai, Narai and Gau – all in the Lomaiviti Group of Islands in Central-Eastern Fiji. Location highlights: My first local bus in Suva; Colo-I-Suva forest park in Suva; Levuka town in Ovalau; walking at low tide in Makogai, where the turtle and clam hatchery is; beach photography at the teeny island off Nairai (17″48.501’S 179″23.630’E); star-gazing at Nawaikama anchorage, Gau Island; mangrove touring, Lami Bay, Suva; and realising (again) how amazing Dean is for supporting me and my research this year.

People highlights: Just too many to say. To sum this up: Fiji = saying hello and really meaning it. We’ll be back, I know it. Fiji, you are very special. It’s not goodbye, it’s sota tale – see you again.

Some photos are below. In our hearts are all the other photos, of the people we’ve met. Click on images for captions.

 

 

 

 

 

Kindness: Ovalau Island, Fiji

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Bula, bula, bula vinaka. It’s going to be a little hard to articulate our experiences over the past month. There are small things, mainly from the sea… sitting with the women on the beach, relaxing, then watching them suddenly rush to the water to catch sara, little fish; snorkelling at Damu Bay and feeling like I was swimming with the fish; watching the kids spearing fish in small rock pools with spears made of broken umbrella spokes and rubber, or making mud pie, transporting mud and water in a squished teapot; finding bits of roof in the sea from Cyclone Winston, everywhere, just everywhere. And there are big things…feeling the impact of how development has been rolled over this country. Mostly though, meeting people whose knowledge, kindness, wisdom and sense of fun has changed us.

We have been in Ovalau in Central Eastern Fiji (Lomaiviti province) for nearly a month. We usually only spend 2-3 days in one place when we are cruising. But when you stay longer you connect differently. Unfortunately some ning nong wrote in a few cruising guides that anchoring in Levuka was bad with poor holding and rolly seas, so there aren’t as many boats that come here now. Yes, it’s a little rolly sometimes but not so much, and the holding has been fine up to 20 knot winds. This town was the first capital of Fiji and has a long and eclectic European history. But more importantly, it has an important and fascinating pre-European history. It’s a place for all the villages around the island to meet up, selling produce, pick up a few supplies and get to Suva. Forget about your own agenda, and just relax. We’ve eaten at Whale’s Tail, Sea Site (our favourite – there’s a cute restaurant room at the back – great curry) and the Chinese restaurant above the bank. There’s just one street where you wander back and forward, and explore the back alleys and life. Senga la nega (don’t worry), you won’t get lost!

We then spent three weeks in villages around the island. Most were destroyed in Cyclone Winston in 2016. Their crops are growing back, but it’s unseasonably dry it’s slow growing. Seedlings for replanting just aren’t there. The richness here in other ways is overwhelming. My research is more like friendship that starts with kindness. You’ll have to read my thesis next year to find out more!

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This is the first fabric created by one amazing woman. She is taking orders for Christmas presents. Contact me if you want one: $120-$200 + postage depending on size. Wall hanging, bed spread… money goes to the village Women’s Group so they can attend expo’s to sell their creations.

Our favourite, unassuming place is Damu Bay, on the North West of Ovalau, between Taviya and Rukuruku. You can sail inside the reef from Leleuvia Island. It’s small and unassuming and the sunset is surreal. It’s good holding in sand too with only a slight swell.  You can bush-bash to the wee road – left takes you to the village of Taviya, and right takes you to the village of Rukuruku. Yes, you must do sevusevu (in Taviya). I get sick of cruisers who try to avoid sevusevu. It’s a really big insult – this is Fiji and respecting their customs is the very least you can do. Would you like it if someone came and camped on your front lawn without saying hi? If you are just there overnight its okay to not do sevusevu, but if you go on the beach or visit the village, or walk on the road, please do. Ask anyone and they may take you up to the top of the mountain too. It’s anywhere between 2-10 hours depending on how far you go and how fit you are.

We are in Levuka again now to drop Laura off, Dean’s daughter. She has joined us from New Zealand for an action-packed week. It’s been so fantastic being able to share this with her – now she will know what we rave about at home!  Then we are off to Makogai Island to see the bubby turtles, and then my final research location – Gau Island. Then back to Suva for a few weeks before we head home to New Zealand. I think part of our hearts will always be in Fiji, with the people we have met. Zeeeeeeeeeennnnnnnnnaaaaaaaaaaaaa!

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Dean’s new toy, Electic D400 wind generator. Our batteries were draining too much overnight and now they don’t. Yippee. Also, we no longer have to turn the engine on just to recharge the batteries. It’s not noisy. It’s like a wind chime really.

Click on the photos below to read the captions.

 

 

 

Blurry, but once again, a dinghy ride means either going to an adventure or coming back from one. I have now perfected the art of flicking my jandals into the dinghy as I get off onto the boat. So talented.
Art work made of dried fish scales and painted. The women here are very, very creative and clever. EVERYTHING can be considered creative.
Pigs, prized possessions, and the first thing the kids wanted us to see.

 

 

Can’t see the wrinkles when you have glasses on.
My fabulous friend, Salote. See you in Wellington, brrrrrrr!
The Levuka Town Council office, one of the oldest buildings in Levuka. It’s like a 1920s theatre, stage and all.
The back of the Royal Hotel.
Sigh.
Recycling, we think.
The commemoration of when Fiji was handed over to the colonial Government. I am biting my tongue.
What is it about this place?
Levuka, side street.
Where there is a will there is a way here.
No rubber bands for this bokchoy.
Oh my sweetie darling.
Breakfast. Snack. Lunch. Dinner.
Thank you Reuben and Asina, and Helen and Betty xox
This church was made in early 1900s out of coral. Winston only blew the roof off.
Low tide.
A village in Lovoni, in the interior of Ovalau.
SUP, village style.
Dean looking for a good place to anchor. Another cruiser gripe of mine – please don’t drop your anchor on a patch of coral. This coral feeds the fish, which feeds the people.

 

 

Fairy lights in Suva

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Ni sa bula vinaka!

I feel like we’ve been away from Mana for months and months. The trip to Fiji from Opua was, well, a mix of glorious moments and shite. Bashing and crashing (and sounds that feel like the boat is splitting in half) into 25-30 knot head winds that were not forecast; yet a flying fish landed on our boat and the expansive feel of just being in the ocean is gorgeously overwhelming and cannot be placed. Minerva Reef was an amazing place to get out of the waves and wind to recover and swap “did you get enough East in” stories. We even managed to go for a walk on the reef there, at low tide. Well, Steve and Dean did as I sat in the dinghy, watching them in the distance get fainter and fainter in the pouring rain haze. They walked over to the outer side of the reef and stood facing the ocean. Lucky there was no freak wave. I wished I’d pushed myself to get out of the dinghy, but the it was getting dark and the tide was rapidly rising. I had horror images of the dinghy being washed away from the coral bomby it was tied to and us not being able to get back. I live in some very uncomfortable places.

We motored most of the way after that. Oh I LOVE motoring. The boat is flat and the fear to enjoy ratio is lower than usual. Yes, amazing sunsets and surreal feeling of being in a little plastic thing in the big ocean, but I’m still in fight-or-flight mode much of the time. Our gorgeous and capable and considerate crew, Steve, bought lots of fun chats and lighter moments. And he was incredible when it got rough, staying up Dean the whole night. I’ve absolutely come to the conclusion that the most important thing about choosing crew is not to base it on experience, but whether you like them or not. After 10 days cooped up in boat, that is what you are going to care about.

Arriving in Suva was a very smiley experience. The smell of smoke and musk, the chaos of local boats, yachts, cargo ships, fishing vessels and other things that may or may not float. And in Suva Harbour there are many wrecks, some on the charts and some not. The first night was hell – 50 knots and a little bumper boat party. One of the passenger ships broke anchor and smashed into a yacht, which smashed into another yacht, which smashed into another yacht. Clever Pebbles sat in the middle, as the eye of the carnage, without a scratch. We did have to let out more chain in the dark, in 50 knots and steep waves, and 0 audibility as Dean was trying to guide me at the wheel. Steve was in the middle doing a great job of relaying Dean’s screams. The chart plotter wasn’t on so we had no idea where the wrecks were but we had to drive forward. Sigh. Hopefully our new home won’t be as traumatic as this again.

Unfortunately we can’t berth at the Royal Suva Yacht Club because it’s too shallow. So it’s remote living for us. We’ll look at other options for anchoring, but for now, we’re stuck between a wreck and a barnacled fishing boat.  I start at university tomorrow, just to orientate myself, as I wait for a research visa. Fingers crossed. Then it’s off to Ovalau to study with the communities there.

Suva is what I thought it would be – slightly musky smelling, incredibly busy, fabulous markets, lots of color, Indian and Fijian and all that’s in-between, smiles, opulence and grot in the same place, and hothothot. As our lovely friend Kim would say, our eyeballs are sweating. I wish I’d got my hair cut short before I left. There’s hardly any white people which I love, somehow. I am a minority. Lots to think about.

As I write this Dean is teaching sailing! He has already connected with the local sailing school and is volunteering today. He looks right at home and I’m so proud of him. He’s actually an incredibly shy person. Yay Dean. The young sailors are ex-pats but we have ideas of adjusting Dean’s local school yachting programme.

So we are here. Our fairy lights are up in the cockpit which makes me feel like we are now home away from home: it’s like adding a bit of glamour to a place which is usually(for me) full of torturous night shifts and the ground falling out from under me. It’s going to be quite a year. I’m missing Zena so much at times my heart hurts. The Suva SPCA is five minutes away. I badly want to, and don’t want to, volunteer there.

Please, come join us. Get a cheap flight and keep Dean company.  This may help – how many layers of thermals do you have on today! Sorry, couldn’t resist.

Hover and/or over a photo below to read the caption. And I’ll soon upload some video on our You Tube channel (will post it) including the bumper boat party and arriving in Suva. We are thinking of you and send love to you all. Please email us (at our normal email addresses, not at the pebbles1@my iridium.net). Arohanui.

 

 

 

 

 

Don’t worry Caroline, Steve IS tethered on. He also has his clothes on.
Clever Dean’s new sea anchor and drogue set up, under the seat in our transom, ready to go.
Shelf-bra singlets – best thing to wear on passage, so you can be comfy awake and asleep.
Fiji flag – we have officially cleared. Was easy. Until we had to got to Biosecurity, Customs and Health the next day. Email us for advice on how to see the funny side.
The crew, smiling, unaware of what’s to come.
Suva Markets – pawpaw, lychee fury things, baby pineapple, skinny eggplants. Steve was wearing a sulu so it was almost more interesting to watch people find that funny than it was to find fruit and veges.
Yep.
Ah huh.
Yes, yes, yes…motoring. Yes.
Suva Harbour. Oh wow, we are here.
The horizon joins the sea and everything is one.
I love the Pacific.
Behind us is the Suva Prison. It’s from 1912. I don’t think anything has changed.
Again, I love motoring.
Dean, where’s your bloody life jacket??????
Minerve Reef. My Dean.
Life on board a passage. When it’s flat.
Dean teaching sailing already!
Our lovely friends Cheryl and Ian on their identical boat Silver Light. Neighbours again! They are now in Tonga with the Island Cruising NZ rally (ex ICA).
Colo-I-Suva Forest Park. So lush and stunning. There’s a underside of crime here which keeps it real though.
Just follow the yellow line and you’d find Customs. Sure.
After night shift, slight delirious, relaxed. And that is the dont-have-to-wear-a-lifejacket-seat. Very popular.
I don’t know why I love shots like this.
It’s amazing how you are able to find your own space when you’re a metre away from someone. Steve is on a plane to NZ now, and it definately feels like there’s something missing.
First tropical breakfast. I’ve Googled Fijian recipies and am going to live on mango smoothies and coconut fish. Might even get Dean away from his ham, cheese and tomato sammies. Probably not.
Oh mahimahi, we adore you. Thank you ika moana.
I just love everything here.
It’s election year.

My ‘to do’ list keeps growing

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This is what our boat looks like at the moment. Preparing for an offshore trip feels like moving countries because it’s just as scary and groundless, and incredibly exciting, but you aren’t really leaving home. I still can’t get my head around that. Only part of me considers the boat ‘home’ in this sense. Zena our doggie, family and friends, familiar landscapes (Ngati Toa Domain, Pauatahanui Inlet, Whitireia Park, the marina laundry!) aren’t with us so how can it be home? But we’ll meet people and I’ll name every animal I see Zena of course. Last time we woke up to a family of noisy ducks by Kawau Island – Zena. On our trip to Tonga last time, a bird flew on our safety lines for a half-day rest – Zena! Little sharks that stick to the bottom of the boat at anchor – Zena! And of course the experiences we will make will add a whole new layer to life, especially the extreme and unexpected ones.

We’ll head off from Mana on Tuesday probably and sail up the West Coast. There’s no way I’m going around Cape Palliser and the Wairarapa Coast again – NEVER! Last time we went from 5 knots to an un-forecasted 35 and blew our headsail. Then we’ll sail around the top of the North Island – Cape Reinga, wow – and down to Auckland. The chances of getting a head wind are pretty likely at some point in the journey. I hate head winds. The boat bashes, and I imagine every joining device moving a teeny part of a millimetre with every bash. We have a few things to do in Auckland and then it’s back up the East Coast to Opua to wait for the right time to leave, from end of May.

When I came back in 2015 from our Pacific trip, I said I didn’t want to go back just for our own self-indulgent pleasure. Climate change is ripping communities from their roots and I can’t pretend I’m not connected to that anymore. The Pacific is bearing the brunt of human-induced climate change without having caused the majority of it. So, this time I’m going back to create a project called Living Memory. I have a whole lot of cameras donated and I’ll be working with a community. Anyone in the village can take their own living memory photos of the things they treasure, before another cyclone or other extreme event comes along. We’ll have informal photography exhibitions hopefully, and I’ll be able to leave photos within the community thanks to funds donated by family and friends to buy a printer and photo paper etc. If you’d like to donate, I’d love to buy more ink so we don’t run out! Donate here.

Back to my ‘to do’ list. We’ve got Cat 1 – phew – now it’s chowing into the small things.  Last time I cooked every meal from scratch and popped them in the freezer. This time I’m going to buy takeaway. It feels like cheating, but I’ve run out of time. Dinner will be nasi goreng from our fish ‘n chip shop, chicken korma from our local Indian restaurant, and a gluttony from the pizza shop. I have made a few meals too – pasta and meatballs, and warehou fish curry. Lunches will be wraps (corn crackers for me) and we’ll stick to the same snacks as we did last time: cubes of cheese and carrot, hard boiled eggs, cooked sausages, and a plastic container of bliss balls, peanuts, chocolates and Dean’s favourite bickies. And hopefully also Penny’s famous and very desired chocolate fruit cake (hint, hint!)

Will post a photo of our last sight of New Zealand again to say e noho ra when we leave. Must remember to breathe!

 

 

OMG Fiji, here we come….

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We’re going, we’re going, we’re going. Can’t believe I’m going to actually do that hideous sailing trip again. Did I not learn anything the first time, about seasickness, terror, feeling stupid, out-body experiences because the reality was too much? I’ll just think of sunrises, flying fish (can’t be miserable when you see a little fish fleeing across the surface of the ocean) and opening a bottle of champagne on arrival. It can’t be as scary the second time. Can it?

When I came back from our 2015 South Pacific trip I said to Dean that I can’t return to the Pacific again unless it has some meaning other than sipping wine on the back of our boat. Well, this year I’ll be doing my Master’s in Development Studies, hanging out at the University of South Pacific in Suva and outer islands. I’ll be looking at the linkages between climate change adaptation and development.

We’ll leave some time in May, and return in November. Avoiding the cyclone season doesn’t have the same surety as it used to, thanks to human-induced climate change…but that’s for another time. For now, it’s time to head back to uni to expand and deepen the world once again, and to our excel spreadsheet with an endless list of boat things to do.

PS…Just to keep it real, I thought I’d share this photo of Dean unblocking our toilet!

Things I’d never go sailing without

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We really didn’t know what we were doing. We Googled and forumed like crazy. We took advice from helpful people and thought really, really hard. But at the end of the day, we still felt ill prepared. Having said that, there’s not a lot we’d do differently if we were going to go on a sailing adventure again.

Here are some things we would definitely take again.

Green Bags. These are breathable plastic bags to store vegetables in and keep in the fridge. I did an experiment before we left: I brought two broccoli; one went in the fridge naked and the other went in in a Green Bag. The Green Bag one lasted three times as long. I get them from Trade Me (just put Green Bags in the search box). They’re imported from USA – NASA International Space Shuttle used to use them. You can wash them and reuse them 8-10 times – at least that’s what the instructions say – but I used them about 20.  Still good. Tip: Make sure there’s no moisture on the vege/fruit when you put them in. Or if there is, wrap a paper towel around it for a day or so.

Charcoal tablets and Alpine tea. When my Mum was dying, all the hospice nurses were obsessed with her bowels. Sailing can also be all about the bowels. For any kind of tummy bug or diarrhoea, we used charcoal tablets (thanks Peter). They absorb any nasties in your bowel (they actually soak up everything so drink plenty of water – I didn’t and got constipated). Lucky I also have a natural remedy for when you are constipated – a cup of herbal Alpine tea. After 3-4 hours you will definitely go – quite violently sometimes, but it absolutely clears you out. I wish the description on the packet had been a bit more honest – I took it when I was working in town once. I had a cup thinking it was an innocent herbal tea and got quite a shock when I walked home to the train station.

Audio books. For those terrifying night shifts when you can’t read or concentrate, listening to audio books is a really nice half-distraction. I only put one ear plug in so I could still listen to the weather and sea scream, waiting for any kind of different noise in. I subscribed to Audible. It’s $15 a month. The books take ages to download (do it before you leave because there’s no way internet in the Pacific can handle it). My favourite Audio Book is The Girl on the Train by Paula Hawkins. It’s not rocket science – plot drive with vivid characters and is a bit of thriller – and best of all, the actors are British.

Hair stuff. I looked about 10 years old but a hair band keeps your hair out of your face without having to use lots of hairclips. I bought some really expensive morocco oil hair moisturiser which I used every other day – just slip a bit through, like gel. It keeps it hydrated and even when I knew it looked like shite, it smelt yummy. Your hairdresser will be very impressed when you get back.

A groovy dress. On the odd occasion when we went to a resort, I’m really glad I had a nice frock to wear. I hate the term ‘grotty yachtie’ and tried hard to not be one. Of course you are one after five day passage without  a shower but there’s no need to look yucky just because you’re at sea. It is of course quite helpful to not look in the mirror though. OMG that first shower when you reach land is so unbelievably amazing.

LED candles. They look fake but give a bit of glamour. We have three in a set of different heights. They alternate different colors and have a remote control. They’re lovely it the cockpit at night. We had three but traded one for fish. And we also put fairy lights up in the cockpit which Dean did reluctantly until he saw how well they lit us up from a distance. If you forget to put your anchor light on, you still light up like a Christmas tree. It was quite a magical moment, rowing out in the dinghy and looking back at our stary night, gorgeous boat. They’re solar powered and hook up to our dodger. It’s also part of my cunning plan to make sure we don’t race our boat in the next Mana Cruising Club winter sailing season – the fairy lights will take too long to take down! Woop, woop.

A box of gorgeous things. Sailing is all about safety and trauma. As soon as I got to a bay I’d open out my box of gorgeous things and lay them out on the saloon table…a plastic lotus flower, a shell from Kapiti, half a coconut shell and a miniature crocheted Christmas pudding that my Mum won in the hospice raffle. This is a bit macabre, but I also have a Dead Box. It’s got funeral programmes, dried flowers, photos, notes and little things that remind me of the person who died. I also have the ashes of my little pussy cat, Willow, in my Dead Box. Dean thinks I’m weird. But being at sea doesn’t mean I don’t have feelings. There’s nothing like a good sob after a shit sail.

A shift bag. I had a large waist bag that I put all my shift essentials in (ear plugs, eye mask, clean knickers, alarm clock, gloves, note pad and pen). I attached it to the nav station so that even if it was rough, I could get to it easy. It was right next to the Grab Bag.

Okay, so I’ve asked Dean what he’d never go to sea without – he’ll be practical:

Three navigation tools. Ray Marine charts as our main nav tool, in the cockpit, and Open CPN and iSailor for our laptop and iPad. Dean also connected our chart plotter to the iPad. He blew up our radar two weeks before we left. Our amazing marine insurance people, The Marina Shop, made sure our insurance covered it and it meant we got new charts for the Pacific. Unlike some people, reefs were where they were meant to be.

Solar panels. As many as you can take.

Davits on our arch. Being able to hoist our dinghy up on davits which are attached to our arch: Not only was it easy when we got somewhere, but the dinghy was perfectly safe, still inflated, during passages. We were one of the only boats with an inflatable dingy and we never got into trouble. Dean had Outboard Envy. Ours has 5hp – a lot had 15hp. 10hp was common. Dean was obsessed with ‘getting on the plane’. I don’t see what the fuss is about. We got to places, eventually.

Soda Stream for fizzy drinks. He can’t live without his bourbon and coke. Except I bought sugar-free which he HATED and never forgave me for. Telling him that the amount of sugar that goes in a glass of coke is actually poisonous, and to stop you throwing up they put another poison in, doesn’t put him off.

Iridium Go satellite communications (includes an email address so we could email anywhere, any time, and 150 talking minutes). Apparently they’ll have 3G internet speed too soon. Iridium Go also has a tracking feature that Predict Wind can show on a website. This was great except for when it went a bit haywire and we got an email from Dean’s Mum saying, “you’re on land, you’re on land, what’s wrong?”

AIS. We wouldn’t go anywhere without it. It saved our lives: Once we were headed right for a rock. We had our chart zoomed out to 10nm which meant the rock didn’t show. The rock had an AIS beacon on and came up as an alert. It was a revolting night shift and our headsail had just ripped so we were in no mood to hit a rock. We should of course have scanned a paper chart more thoroughly before we left.  AIS is great for piece of mind for general collision avoidance too. It’s also handy if you want to avoid  someone in a bay, and you can turn it off if you don’t want to be found.

A good horn to announce your arrival in a bay and say a big goodbye when you leave. Oh for safety reasons too.

What are three things you’d never go to sea without?

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And cushions. I can’t buy furniture, art work, books, art deco things – we only have room for cushions. My new cockpit cushions have ducks on them. I love them. Dean doesn’t.

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Nothing to do this this post, but my current favourite photo. This is the first time Zena went up on the deck, unprompted. Taken from our trip a couple of weeks ago to D’Urville Island and Pelorous Sound.