Travels With Barbara

Bali

I have been ashore in Bali for six days and have had a fabulous time exploring this amazing island. It is quite different from what we saw in the South Pacific, largely because of the Hindu religion and culture. Although most of Indonesia is Muslim, Bali is predominantly Hindu. They have accommodated the Indonesian law that all religions must have only one god by naming one god which happens to have many manifestations (equivalent to the many gods of the Hindu religion practiced elsewhere in the world).

One of the most interesting experiences I’ve had here was attending an anniversary celebration at a temple near Ubud. The celebration actually lasts about 10 days and there is a special ceremony at the temple each evening of the celebration. In order to enter the temple during a ceremony you must wear a sarong with a sash around the waist and a shirt with sleeves (3/4 or full length for women) and men must wear a traditional headdress.

During the prayers and blessings by the priests with holy water, which lasted about 40 minutes, everyone sits cross legged on the ground, shoes off. It started at 1830, just as daylight was fading, all the pavilions were lit and the red, yellow, white and black (all sacred colors) adornments were beautiful. Everyone was wearing their finest sarongs, the men all wore white shirts and white headdresses.

When the formal ceremony and prayers were finished, the male gamelan orchestra took their seats in the music pavilion within the temple while a female gamelan orchestra went to play in another pavilion just outside the temple. Meanwhile, a lot of people carrying offerings of fruit and other foods to be blessed lined up to enter a door into another level of the temple. The orchestra played and women danced traditional Balinese dance in the same space where everyone had just been sitting during the prayers.

Shopping in the markets, riding through the countryside, walking in the Monkey Forest, climbing the many levels of the Mother Temple in Besakih, having massage and foot reflexology, seeing weavers, wood carvers and silversmiths at work, and eating delicious Indonesian food has made Balia a truly unique experience. Right now I am too busy doing all these wonderful things to write any more. It’s after mid-night and I have an early start scheduled for tomorrow.

I will write another update or two after I get home. (I fly out of Bali on December 4^th.) And I hope to figure out how to upload photos to this blog once I am home at my own computer.

Last Days at Sea

My last days at sea went by altogether too quickly. I did my best to appreciate every moment from sunrise through sunset and as much of the starry night that I was awake. And since I don’t sleep well aboard when the engine is running day after day, I was usually awake for two or three hours in the middle of the night. With the weather continuing to be hot and humid, finding a place to sleep on deck became quite competitive.

One night I was late going to claim my space on the cargo hatch; when I got there at 2030 it was already full. The Aloha deck was also fully occupied. The mate suggested that I sleep on the fo’c’sle head, so I squeezed into a space between the anchor chains, forward of the capstan, by lying diagonally across the deck. It was not the most comfortable place, but better than sleeping in the hot, stuffy salon. And in the morning I lay there watching a spectacularly beautiful sunrise that got better and better for about 45 minutes or longer, which I would not have seen if I had been sleeping midships. The next night I made sure I staked out my spot on the cargo hatch before 2000, and I woke up early enough to get my camera for the early morning sunrise show.

Daytime was mostly occupied with more sailmaking and other projects that involve the use of a sewing machine, such as re-upholstering a cushion for the Captain’s office and making a new Indonesia  flag.

Our focus this week was on the new foresail. Working together on the quarterdeck with the sail strung up waist high on the port side, Susannah, Jill, Morgan and I stitched the wire rope onto each leech and the foot of the sail, followed by a canvas rope covering which we also stitched on. My sailmaker’s palm and pliers came in very handy for these projects.

We had our last two Rules of the Road classes on Monday and Tuesday, learning the last of the lights, shapes and sounds that are used by various vessels on international and inland waterways. After dinner we played backgammon or read or watched the amazing sunsets which seem to me to have been much better since we came into the Indian Ocean.

Wednesday, November 23^rd was the ship’s official celebration of American Thanksgiving. Watches had to maintain their schedule for helm and lookout, of course, but we did not do ship’s work (no painting, sanding, ospho, rigging or sailmaking). However, we did have to “super clean” the ship in preparation for arriving in Bali. When domestics were finished in the common areas, each of us had to completely clean out our bunk. Meanwhile Joe cooked up a storm in the galley, serving a huge turkey dinner with all the fixings: stuffing, mashed potatoes, squash, cranberry sauce, and more. For dessert we had apple, pumpkin and cherry pies that Brian had baked the night before, as well as strawberry shortcake which Andrea D. had requested for her birthday (Nov. 23). Nobody went hungry!

Thursday was my last day on board the ship. I spent the morning working with the sailmakers, stitching wire rope and canvas rope coverings onto the foresail. After lunch I went below to start packing my belongings for leaving the ship. I had already started the process the day before when we did the big cleaning of our bunks. Even so, it was a large undertaking and I was not nearly finished by the time we anchored in Benoa Harbor late that afternoon.

Making the Indonesian flag was a spontaneous project that arose just as we finished anchoring in Benoa Harbor. The mate realized that the Indonesian flag we had raised was rather tattered, beyond repair, and asked me to stitch up a new one. The flag is a simple design, the top half red and the lower half white, and we had the material on board. Considering all the activity on deck, I decided to set up the sewing machine in the Salon even though it was very hot and also a beehive of activity with people packing to go ashore. After several delays when we were all called on deck, first to fill in Customs cards, then for mail call…I was pleasantly surprised to receive letters and packages from home, including my favorite dark chocolate from Carl!!!...and, finally to hear an orientation to Bali, I finished sewing the flag around 1830. By 1845 I was climbing over the rail of the ship, into the skiff to go ashore.

Fire in the Stackhouse

At 0344 Sunday, November 20th, I was sitting on the Aloha deck, just finishing a middle-of-the-night snack and talking with Catharine as we watched sparks fly out the top of the ship’s smokestack when suddenly we heard a loud POP and the stack lit up like a torch. “Fire in the stackhouse.” The cry was shouted throughout the ship instantly, all hands called up on deck.

All the fire drills and other emergency drills that we have done on this voyage paid off. Most of the crew had been sleeping. Immediately we all knew where to go and what to do, bringing fire extinguishers to the cargo hatch, getting the emergency fire pump set to go, setting up a bucket brigade to carry water to the quarterdeck and any place that was in danger of catching fire, suiting up a couple of firefighters in their breathing apparatus and air tanks, and getting the medical gear ready.

Fire on a ship in the middle of the ocean is a frightful experience. Although the Picton Castle has a steel hull, there are many things that could burn: the wood decks, canvas sails, wood boats hanging from davits off port and starboard sides of the quarterdeck. And, of course, there’s the possibility of explosion in the engine or the fuel tanks. Fortunately, none of that occurred. I couldn’t help but think what the implications would be if the fire had gotten out of control and spread to other parts of the ship. We have done some abandon ship drills and that is one drill that I hope never goes beyond just a drill.

The Captain had the presence of mind to keep the engine on, albeit throttled down to reduce heat. Later, when everything was under control, he explained to us that the reason for keeping the engine on was to keep the fire moving up and out of the smokestack. He said that the most dangerous thing is to shut off the engine right away because that would increase the risk of an explosion in the engine room.

One of the most frightening moments for me was when I went to shut the watertight hatch between the engine room and the cargo hold. I had gone below momentarily to put on my rig (belt with knife and marlinspike) when the order came to close the hatch and I was the closest person, standing by the entrance from the Salon to the cargo hold. Without a flashlight in hand, I made my way through the hold relying on the light from the engine room.

When I got there the engine room was already full of smoke and it smelled bad. At first glance it appeared that I would have to step into the engine room to unlash the door. I was relieved to see that the door had been tied with a slippery hitch and all I had to do was reach in, pull the bitter end of the line and then pull the hatch closed. Just as I was about to close the hatch I heard Danie, the ship’s Engineer, say, “Barbara, wait.” I was relieved he was there and quickly stepped back to let him take a look before he closed the hatch. Someone else had come in with a flashlight and we all got out quickly and safely. I sure was glad to get up on deck again.

Another precaution we took was downrigging the canvas awning that we’ve had up midships for several days to provide shade from the midday heat and rain protection for those of us who like to sleep on the cargo hatch. We continually hauled buckets of water up over the side to pass to the quarterdeck. We set upper and lower topsails, then the foresail and mainsail; later those were all taken in. The medical team was standing by ready to take care of possible injuries. One of the engineering assistants who had been in the engine room when the fire started suffered slight smoke inhalation; otherwise there were no injuries.

Danie did have to go down into the engine room, fully garbed in firefighting gear and breathing apparatus, to check on a gasket and assess the situation closer to the source of the fire. He was accompanied by Dave Matthews, also fully decked out in fireman’s gear, who was standing by to assist Danie and be sure that he was safe.

Approximately one hour after the first call of “Fire in the stackhouse” went out, everything was under control and we started putting away the emergency equipment. By 0500 we were all stood down except for the on duty watch (4 to 8). The fire happened to coincide with the night that we set back the clocks one hour on account of having traversed yet another time zone. So 0500 became 0400. I’m sure everyone was glad for the extra hour of sleep.

For the next hour or two we motored slowly away from some shoals. When we were safely in deep water, the engine was shut down and we drifted in the East Timor Sea for about 10 or 11 hours while the engineering team cleaned the exhaust system and repaired a hole in the manifold. It was a swelteringly hot day with nearly no breeze.

Since it was Sunday, the rest of us had the day off from ship’s work; the watches did not even have anyone standing lookout or on helm since we were not underway. I truly felt sorry for Danie, Logan, Jeff Hicks, Kolin, Andrea D. and Brett who were up to their elbows and then some cleaning the sooty, greasy residue out of the exhaust system. The section where the fire had burned was already fairly clean because the residue had all been burned away, but the other section was quite messy.

For a brief respite from the heat, we had a swim call at 1300. We jumped off the rail of the ship and swam about in crystal clear blue water. We could see the rays of the sun going very deep down into the water. Unlike ocean water off the coast of NY and New England, this water was very warm. In fact, some of us had hoped it would be cooler. It was enjoyable, nonetheless.

The engineers worked until about 1600. They came out covered from head to toe with greasy black soot. It took them several scrubbings and dunks in the ocean before they were clean enough to be allowed into the showers on board. The main engine was started up about 1630 and we got underway slowly, to be sure that the repairs made were adequate before going full speed. We celebrated the end of a very long day with the traditional Sunday-at-sea marlinspike party.

Vanuatu to Bali - Week 3

On Sunday, Nov. 13^th we anchored for the night in the Torres Strait just before passing Cape York, the northernmost tip of Australia. The combination of wind, currents, poor visibility in the darkness and very shallow water made it too precarious for us to continue our passage. So at 0545 Monday we got an all hands wakeup call and about 20 minutes later we were taking turns on the windlass heaving up the anchor. I was glad we waited for daylight because the headlands were interesting and beautiful to see. We were close enough to see what I would guess are leftover WWII fortifications built into the hillside and a lighthouse on top of the hill.

We had sufficient wind for three and a half days after passing through the Torres Strait into the Arafura Sea to sail without using the engine. It wasn’t until Wednesday afternoon that we had to take in the sails and start the engine. The winds had died out and we have been motoring ever since with some of the fore ‘n aft sails set. The weather continues to be mostly hot and the sun is strong here (we are under the hole in the ozone layer) so we keep canopies up on the main deck and the quarterdeck whenever possible; and I use a lot of sunblock when I know I will be working in the sun. It’s hard to think that at home it could be snowing and cold; it certainly doesn’t feel like November!

Another week of sailmaking from early morning until late afternoon, followed by Coastal Piloting and Rules of the Road workshops before dinner. I finished stitching on the last two grommets on the new flying jib Monday morning (with much better results than the frustrations I encountered Saturday). In the afternoon I worked with Jill to make tabling for the new upper topsail. On Tuesday we started treating the flying jib with wood preservative, which makes the canvas last longer. The wood preservative smells horrid and I was glad when we had to stop the project on account of some confusion about containers that were mis-marked or unlabeled. One container on which someone had written “Yes I am wood preservative” smelled much more like paint thinner and it did not act like the wood preservative we had started with.

So, while the wood preservative confusion was being straightened out, I moved on to making window patches. The morning watch and riggers had brought down the fore t’gallant sail and replaced it with another old t’gallant that we had just repaired a week or two ago. The one that came down had two holes that we could see easily; while working on it I found a third hole that also needed to be patched. It took me the better part of three days to measure, cut and stitch in place three large patches. Each patch is much larger than the hole itself, going from seam to seam on the sail, to be sure that it is stitched onto strong canvas, not a place that is already stressed and likely to rip soon. The patch is stitched into place, then the sail is turned over and the old canvas is cut away leaving a margin of old canvas that is turned under and stitched down to the new canvas, thus making a “window” of new canvas in the old sail.

I slept on the cargo hatch at night and, with the canopy over the hatch, even the rain did not stop me from sleeping there. Wednesday the rain started about 0100 and it rained heavily all morning. We did our sailmaking in the Salon, stitching seams on the new lower topsail. However, since the Salon is the only dry place to eat when the weather is bad, we had to clean up at 11am for the 1130 seating and could not resume until the noon seating was finished and cleaned up. With some extra help from Brent, who likes to seam, we have nearly finished putting together the cloths for the lower topsail; 24 seams total. Susannah wants to have all the cloths stitched together before we get to Bali so they can lay it out to do a “second cut” of the sail.

My notes for the week include “hot and sweaty” for every day. Saturday was no different, except that perhaps it was even more hot and sweaty. We only work half day on Saturday, so in the afternoon we were trying anyway possible to keep cool. John Kemper inflated a small raft, hauled buckets of sea water over the rail to fill it up and sat down in it on the well deck to cool off. Naturally, water spilled onto the well deck, which has a slight downward slope from fore to aft, and soon he discovered the fun of sliding in the raft on the wet deck. To make the sliding even better someone turned on a hose (I think we were due to have a power shower). Very soon the hose was not just wetting down the deck, but everyone in the vicinity. Two more hoses were turned on and we had a grand water fight on the main deck. Anyone who tried to cross the main deck wound up soaking wet!!

Vanuatu to Bali – Farewell to the South Pacific

As I write this on Sunday, November 13^th, we are passing through the Torres Strait between the northern tip of  Australia and Papua New Guinea. We are about halfway from Vanuatu to Bali. There is very little wind and we have been motoring since yesterday; the weather is hot, even early in the morning. By late afternoon the Salon was so hot and stuffy, with very little air moving through, that I knew I would have to sleep on deck.

After dinner we played some backgammon in the Salon, and it was too hot even for that non-strenuous game. About 8 pm I set up my sleeping pad, sheet and pillow on the cargo hatch; even though I wasn’t tired enough to sleep yet, if you don’t get there early, the limited space fills up quickly. As it was, there were only two spots open by the time I got there and I took one. With my headlamp on I was able to read for a while, then watched the stars and nearly full moon until I fell asleep. Stargazing was a lot better when I woke up at 3 am and the moon had set. It had cooled down quite a bit and I even put on a long sleeve shirt because my arms felt chilly.

Our second week at sea started out with more of the overcast, intermittent rain and squalls that had kept the sailmakers working in the Salon since the previous Thursday. In fact, Monday night and Tuesday morning we had very heavy rain and the sailmakers were called out several times to help with sail handling and bracing the yards. There was no point in changing to dry clothes that day because we would just get wet again. The “rainy day” project that I had started the previous Thursday, making curtains for all eight Bat Cave bunks, kept me busy right through the end of the week until Monday afternoon. With the leftover material I was able to piece together a spare curtain for the heads.

After that I joined the other sailmakers seaming by hand the cloths for a new lower topsail. With the weather continuing to be squally and in hopes of finishing all 23 seams (each double stitched) on the lower topsail before we get to Bali, all four of us sailmakers stitched seams all day Tuesday and Wednesday, along with occasional help from someone on the duty watch. We made good progress and by the end of the week had 15 seams completely finished. Tuesday afternoon, during a brief sunny interlude, I took my stitching up to the quarterdeck. While I was working there, the Captain sat down next to me on the sailmaker’s bench with his sailmaker’s palm and showed me how to do the seam more “seamanly”: smaller stitches, closer together and pulled tighter.

By Thursday we had left the squalls behind us, the sun was shining strong and Susannah decided we could safely carry the new main foresail up to the quarterdeck where all four of us could work on sewing rope grommets in place along the head of the sail. This sail has been a long time in the making: it has gone around the world two or three times already and it has never been bent on because it still is not finished. It is nearing completion now and we hope to send it aloft soon.

Since I was inexperienced with grommet sewing, Susannah asked me to do a practice one on some scrap canvas. It’s a good thing she did, because my first one was terrible. I forgot one very important step: pulling each stitch down super tight from behind the canvas so that the grommet actually gets snugged down into the layers of canvas rather than sitting on top of it. My second practice grommet showed definite improvement, but it still wasn’t quite right and I had to do a third practice one before I “graduated” from grommet trainee to grommet sewer and was allowed to stitch them onto the foresail. By the end of the day my grommets looked ever so much better!

All day Friday and Saturday morning Jill and I sewed grommets on the luff of the flying jib, the sail that I had stitched seams by machine the previous week. This is another new sail (laid out in Mangareva, earlier in this voyage) that we hope to bend on very soon as we keep a close eye on the current flying jib which has required a couple of emergency patches recently and is due for an overhaul. By the end of the day Friday my grommets were looking really good and I was able to sew one into place in about 40 minutes, down from almost an hour when I first started. Saturday morning I seemed to be constantly struggling to keep the four strands of thread straight and flat, the end results did not look quite as good to me, and I was feeling frustrated with grommet sewing. Perhaps I can go back to seaming next week.

Our work days were cut short by an hour each day as the “Picton Castle University” got into full swing. We had workshops scheduled each day at 4:30 pm:  Rules of the Road 101 on Monday and Wednesday; Coastal  Piloting 101 on Tuesday and Thursday; and Seamanship 313 on Friday.

Thursday’s class was pre-empted by launching the ship’s skiff to take photos of the ship under sail with all sails set including the stunsails. Although we have frequently disembarked from the ship to the skiff and re-boarded the ship while at anchor in a relatively calm harbor, we have much less experience doing it at sea. We’ve done it while hove to at Pitcairn, although then we were transferring to and from the Pitcairn longboat which is a lot bigger than our tiny skiff. And a few people have gone out in the skiff during man overboard drills, while the ship is stopping and hove to.We’ve never done it while underway with the ship moving at 4.5 knots.

Although the seas were relatively calm and the swells appeared to be very small when standing on the ship’s deck, it looks a lot different when going over the side to a small boat that is bouncing up and down four to six feet or more at any given moment. And pulling away from the big ship in the middle of the ocean, just 7 or 8 of us in a small boat with a 30 hp outboard, gave me a whole new appreciation for the enormity of the ocean. Add to that a view of the ship that we normally don’t get to see – what she looks like under sail from the water – and it was well worth the edge of nervousness that accompanied the experience. Later the Captain informed us that this was part of our advanced seamanship training.

Thursday’s Coastal Piloting class finally took place on Saturday afternoon. Friday’s class was pre-empted by a marlinspike “Farewell to the South Pacific” party which was a disguise for a surprise belated birthday party for Keith, our doctor who joined the ship in Rarotonga. Somehow his birthday had escaped Kimberly’s (and everyone else’s) attention; Kimberly keeps the master list of birthdays and tells Joe when to bake a birthday cake. It was a great party, which we hope made up for being late, with lots of music and dancing until almost 10 pm, which is the official lights out and quiet time on board. Keith is an avid Lindy dancer, as is Sam, so she put on some Lindy music and they did several dances together while the rest of us watched. Then we all started dancing on the cargo hatch. It’s quite a testament to our ability to balance when 20 or more of us can dance at one time, after imbibing quite a bit of rum punch, on a rolling “dance floor” that is limited in size, and nobody falls off. Fortunately, that was the same night that we set the clocks back an hour so we all had some extra time to sleep and recuperate.

With calm seas and sunny skies prevailing, and ship’s work to be done Saturday afternoon, Kimberly opened her haircutting salon in the breezeway on the port side of the galley house. I was her first customer; she trimmed a couple of inches of dry dead ends off my hair…nothing drastic. John Kemper, Margot, Kathleen, JD, Becky, Mike and Andrea all had haircuts, too. There may have been others as well.

Vanuatu to Bali - Life as a Dayman

This is my last passage at sea on this voyage, since I am disembarking in Bali. I have a totally different schedule on this passage now that I am a “dayman”. I’ve been wanting to learn more about sailmaking, so I’m now an assistant sailmaker along with Jill and Morgan. We all work with the ship’s Sailmaker, Susannah, who is a veteran of the Picton Castle’s first world voyage and who has several years experience working in a sail loft in Maine.

As a dayman, I am awakened at 0700 (although I’m usually up around 0530 or 0600, I still get an official “wakeup” at 0700), eat breakfast at 0730am and am ready to start work by 0750. Each of us has one domestics cleaning chore to do at the start of each workday (I clean the chart house), then we get into the days’ sailmaking projects. We work until 1700 with a half hour off for lunch at 1130. We may quit a little earlier when the Captain schedules a workshop at 1600 or 1630.

Once our work is finished for the day I have the entire night off; no more waking up for four hours of night watch in the middle of the night. Of course, not being on watch means that I no longer get to take the helm or stand lookout; nor do I do much sail handling – only occasionally during the day when they are short handed for bracing the daymen are called upon to haul on lines. And, since I’m no longer on the watch roster, I am not assigned to galley duty. (For those who are on watch at sea, the galley rotations are down to as little as once every 7 days; back in Lunenburg we had started with galley once every 13 or 14 days.)

Sailmaking is right up my alley. I love to sew and working with my hands on something tangible that I can see progress each day towards a finished product, such as a new sail, is far more enjoyable and satisfying to me than chipping rust, sanding and painting steel surfaces that will have to be re-done again and again. Because I have a lot of prior experience sewing with a machine, Susannah has given me a lot of machine sewing work during my first week as a sailmaker. The ship’s sewing machine, a Sailrite Ultrafeed, is very much like my Mom’s old Singer sewing machine that I learned to sew on.

All of the ship’s sails are canvas, and most have been made by crew during the various world voyages and while the ship is laid up over the intervening winters in Lunenburg. We are working on a new Flying Jib, a miter-cut fore ’n aft sail. Paulina had stitched the cloths together when she was on board earlier in the voyage, and the sail was laid out in Fiji for a “second cut.” The outer edges of the sails were marked and lines drawn for the folds to be rubbed under and stitched down.

My first job was to stitch patches on each of the clew, tack and head corners of the sail. Susannah helped me measure and layout the patches, which I cut, rubbed and stitched on. Next, I rubbed under the fold for the foot of the sail. The cloth actually is folded over twice, so the raw edge of the canvas is enclosed in the seam, which means that the entire length of the foot of the sail has to be rubbed under twice. And then it has to be stitched three times: two seams along the innermost edge of the fold, about ¾ inch apart and one seam along the outer edge of the sail. The same folding and stitching had to be done on the leech of the sail also.

For the luff, which at 57.5 feet is the longest edge of the sail, we made a separate piece called a “tabling” which had to be stitched on. Both edges of the tabling had to be rubbed under as well as the edge of the luff on the sail. Jill and Susannah worked on that while I started on a special “rainy day” project (the weather has been overcast and spitting rain on and off, so we are working in the Salon and somewhat limited by space constraints as to what we can work on)…making new bunk curtains for the 8 bunks in the Bat Cave.

As soon as the luff tabling was ready, I started stitching that on. The first seam took over two hours to do because I had to continually adjust the tabling and the sail to be sure they lined up correctly. Susannah stitched the second seam in less than an hour and I finished the third seam in just over half an hour.

Despite the on-and-off rain as we play hide and seek with squalls, the seas have been fairly calm. We are sailing downwind, going in a westerly direction, making an average of 5 to 6 knots, logging as much as 120 to 150 miles per day. The ship does a fair bit of rolling from side to side. By now we have learned to stow everything quite securely and we rarely hear things go rolling around. And we have long since learned how to walk on the rolling decks, so that we rarely need to hold on for support.

On Saturday, November 5th we had a Masked Ball marlinspike party to celebrate a belated Hallowe’en. We all made masks. There were some very creative ideas considering the limited resources we have on board – we can’t run to the store to get supplies. Catharine was a jelly fish: she tied a hula skirt (blue and green “grass”) around her head and put a shower cap on top. Becky made a frangipani flower mask; Sam put together a baseball catcher’s mask made of white plastic coat hangers (she’s an avid baseball fan); Brent shaved his hair to a Mohawk cut and made a mask of canvas; John Kemper used a black belt and cut holes for eyes in it; Greg used a lot of empty candy and cookie wrappers to make a mask; and there were a lot of masks made of canvas that defy description. I used a pumpkin colored t-shirt and canvas to make a pumpkin face mask. Many of us found it challenging to eat popcorn and drink rum punch with our masks on; mine got a bit soggy around the mouth until I finally gave up and took it off.

Vanuatu: Bwatnapne Bay, Pentecost

Since we arrived at Bwatnapne Bay late in the afternoon, there was not much time to go ashore before dinner. And since we would have to return to the ship for dinner, we all opted to stay on board. We rigged up the rope swing on the end of the foreyard which was braced around to port. Climbing out on the forward starboard edge of the fo’c’sle head, we grab onto a heavy rope that has several knots tied in it, swing  way out and drop into the water. Jack and a couple of others do fancy flips, forward or back; the rest of us go kerplunk.

We also launched a couple of outrigger dugout canoes that the Captain purchased in Asanvari. They had been lashed on the main deck during our transit, so we just had to lift them up over the rail and lowered into the water. The difficult part is getting into the canoe without swamping it. And the trick is to only enter the canoe at midships; never attempt to enter at the bow or the stern, or even move too far forward or aft of the center of the vessel. As I learned the hard way, this is guaranteed to swamp the canoe and you will be swimming when you did not expect to do so. I didn’t feel so bad about doing it when I saw Jill do the same thing only a few minutes after I did. I also discovered how difficult it can be to steer or to go anywhere when using a half-size paddle and the wind is blowing. As the wind blew me away from the ship, John Kemper reminded me “don’t go farther than you want to swim.” I had fun going in circles!

On our second day at Bwatnapne Bay, Chief Alan Bule had planned a Program for us which included some welcoming speeches, music by the Tasule String Band (remarkably similar to the music we had heard from other string bands), and officially presenting school books that the Picton Castle brought on behalf of World Wise for the primary and secondary schools. After the Program finished we had an hour or so to visit the school and talk with students and villagers before lunch. A buffet was set up for us with the usual rice, taro, manioc and pawpaw (papaya) supplemented by mackerel from the ship’s stores. We used large leaves as plates and because of the scarcity of forks, most of us ate with our fingers.

After lunch, we had a two hour trading session. Woven baskets and mats were the most abundant items that the islanders offered for trade. Nautilus shells and boar tusks were reserved for special deals. The islanders were very eager to trade for clothes, flashlights, paper and pens, and especially wristwatches. Some of the crew literally traded the clothes off their back.

While we were in Bwatnapne Bay, as well as the other islands, our ship’s doctor, Keith, held a medical clinic and saw patients with a myriad of complaints. In Bwatnapne the major problems were an epidemic of scabies among the children, and abdominal pain of unknown origin among adults. Bruce, a former army medic who assisted Keith, speculated that the abdominal pain could be related to regular consumption of kava, which is highly acidic, on an empty stomach.

Since I had to work on the ship during our third and last day at Bwatnapne, I was unable to do any snorkeling there. A dozen of the off duty crew lowered the Monomoy (the ship’s lifeboat), rowed out to a reef and snorkeled. They reported seeing some unusual sea life including a sea horse.

On our last afternoon in Bwatnapne we invited the islanders to tour the ship. My guess is that there were 200 or more visitors, adults and children, that came on board between 1 pm and 4 pm. We ran the skiff continually back and forth between the ship and the beach taking people to and fro.

We heaved up the anchor shortly after 5 pm and set out for Espiritu Santo. We “sailed” through the night. In reality, we ran before the wing with bare poles, going as fast as 4.5 knots with no sails set. The 4-8 watch had set a few sails and had to take them in right away. The Captain’s orders were to take in sail if we went faster than 3.5 knots.

When I came on watch at midnight and took the helm, the wind was blowing Force 7 with some gusts of 8; we were going more than 4 knots and no sails were set. Steering was tricky – sometimes very steady and other times the ship jumped two points or more from one direction to the other. With an ordered course of West by South ½ South, my heading varied from West by North to Southwest. Most of the time I was able to stay within half to one point of the ordered course.

We arrived in Espiritu Santo mid-morning. After several attempts to back into an anchorage with our stern to the shore and tie up to trees on shore, we wound up anchoring farther offshore, across the harbor from Luganville. We’ll be here until Monday morning when we set sail for Bali.

Vanuatu: Asanvari, Maewo

We set sail from

Banan

Bay

late Friday afternoon. As soon as we were underway and had the sails set, I was recruited to assist the galley team with dinner. While at anchor only two people were assigned to galley, but with everyone on board for dinner they needed the usual three galley crew to serve and clean up. Once the sun went down, we had a good view of the volcanoes on

Ambryn

Island

glowing orange as they spewed hot lava.

The nice part of doing galley duty is that you are not awakened for night watch. So, I got to sleep through the night. Well, almost. JD, who sleeps in the bunk above me, did not know that I was not supposed to get up for night watch. And since I have been known to sleep through wake up calls in the past, he makes sure I am awake when it’s time to go up on deck. He did his best to make me get up, telling me to turn on my light, until I told him that I had been on galley. I fell right back to sleep.

I woke up early Saturday (Oct. 22^nd) as we were approaching

Maewo

Island

where we anchored by Asanvari village. Asanvari is situated in a beautiful bay with a large waterfall and fresh water swimming pool that comes right down to the bay. While the village huts look quite similar to those in

Banan

Bay

, they seem to be more decorative, particularly with landscaped gardens. And there is a bit more technology available. Chief Nelson and his son, Nixon, have taken initiative to bring improvements to the village. They’ve built a Yacht Club which has electricity, a flush toilet and shower, a kitchen with a refrigerator and cold beers for sale, and a telephone. The Yacht Club makes Asanvari an appealing anchorage for smaller yachts, which gives the villagers more opportunity for trading.

Snorkeling in Asanvari was the best I’ve seen so far. The coral reefs were truly spectacular and even more variety and quantity of fish than I’ve seen in other places. One of the more unusual creatures we saw was a large (12-14 inch diameter) electric blue starfish. We snorkeled along the edge of the reef which was about 3 to 5 feet below water until we reached a precipice where it dropped to at least 30 or 40 feet deep, maybe more. It was thrilling to swim out over the edge of the precipice, so completely different from being on land where you would never dare go to the edge for fear of falling off. Suddenly there is a huge drop below you, yet no fear of falling. What an amazing sensation!!

I snorkeled three days in Asanvari, and each time was better than before. On Sunday, our second day there, although I was on duty, we were allowed to go ashore for trading and the crew picnic at the waterfall. Since there was also a Kastom Dance performance later in the afternoon (and no ship’s work on Sunday) we were allowed to stay ashore. I rafted on Andrea D’s inflatable from the waterfall over to the cave, then traded the raft for snorkel gear and swam back to the waterfall. The underwater terrain was very different there than what I had seen the previous day. There were more volcanic rock formations and deep fissures (crevasses) and less of the shallow water reef and coral heads. One section I dubbed “the desert” because it was flat rock, totally barren of coral, plants or fish.

The Kastom Dance at Asanvari was very different from what we saw in

Banan

Bay

. Only the men danced; they wore woven “skirts” with leaves stuck in the sides, ankle bracelets made of nuts that rattled as they danced, and very elaborate headdresses with feathers and carvings. Each headdress was completely unique from the others. The dances were more intricate in their choreography, and every bit as energetic as the dances in

Banan

Bay

as they jumped and stomped their feet back and forth across the floor. During the last dance, they pulled us in to dance with them as they circled around the dance floor. It took a lot of energy to keep up with them.

The Kastom Dance was followed by a demonstration by the school children of bamboo stick jumping. It’s a bit trickier than hopscotch or jump rope, which we figured out quickly when we all tried it. A few of our nimble crew did quite well at it while others of us stumbled through more clumsily.

After the Kastom Dance program we were all served kava. Ten of us at a time drank from the coconut shells while the others clapped their hands until we had downed the entire shell full at one go. The first round for everyone was a “high tide” with the shell filled to the rim; after that we had “low tide” shells filled about half way. The full effect of kava does not necessarily hit immediately when you drink it. However, after having three, four or more drinks, the cumulative effect can be more than you might expect. Rumor has it that the effect of the kava is intensified if you eat after drinking kava. Well, dinner was served after we had drunk the kava. Whether the rumor is true or whether it happened to be a coincidence of timing, I don’t know, but I certainly did feel more light headed after eating.

While the staple foods of taro, manioc and rice were the same as at

Banan

Bay

, there was more variety in the meat and fish served. The featured item was coconut crab, two of which we had seen tied to posts in the Yacht Club before they were cooked. The coconut crab has very strong claws that it uses to break open coconuts; hence, its name. Be advised not to get too close to it because it could do some serious damage.

The local string band played music and we all danced during the kava drinking, dinner and for several hours after dinner. Again, there seems to be one song – the same one we heard in

Banan

Bay

! – to which they sing different words. Nevertheless, we had great fun dancing.

On Monday I was off duty from the ship again, so I borrowed some snorkel gear and went with JD. We swam out through the same area I had been to on Saturday, but we went farther out. to see the reef around the point of land at the end of the bay and some deep water where the fish are much bigger than the small reef fish. I saw a school of fish swimming along and suddenly they all turned 180 degrees to swim quickly away in the opposite direction; they were being chased by a grouper. I watched a much larger fish go up, up, up to the surface of the water. JD said it was a Wahoo chasing a flying fish which got away when it flew above the water.

Once again, the sights we saw were phenomenal; words cannot do justice to describe all of it. And I fear the snapshots on my underwater camera may not capture the experience either. I swam along the reef for an hour and a half, and would like to have stayed in longer except that I started to feel chilly, so I went back to the beach. I do wish I had a picture guide to underwater creatures of the South Pacific so I could identify more of what I’m seeing.

Before returning to the ship for all hands to raise the anchor, I made one last visit to the waterfall where I washed the salt water off in fresh water. At the base of the waterfall, the water hits the pool with tremendous force and standing right there having my back and shoulders pummeled by the water is far better than any showerhead massager or Jacuzzi jets.

We pulled out of

Asanvari

Bay

shortly after noon and motored about 18 miles to

Bwatnapne

Bay

on

Pentecost

Island

.

Vanuatu: Banan Bay, Malekula

We arrived at Luganville on Espiritu Santo, one of the larger islands in

Vanuatu

(formerly known as the

New Hebrides

), on Tuesday, Oct. 18^th. On Monday night we had made a brief stop at

Pentecost

Island

where the Captain went ashore to speak with his friend, Chief Alan Bule, who wanted advance notice of our arrival so he can plan a program with music and traditional dance for us. We will return there after we have visited several other islands.

After docking and clearing in with Customs at Luganville, we stayed only about 5 to 6 hours before setting sail again. This gave everyone some time to go ashore to exchange money, explore the

Main Street

shops (there’s not much beyond that), check email messages, and get a refreshing, cold drink. We cast off the dock lines about 1700 and set sail for

Banan

Bay

, on Malekula, another island in

Vanuatu

, approximately 60 miles away from

Espiritu Santo

.

Sailing through the night, we arrived at

Banan

Bay

early Wednesday morning, Oct. 19th. In fact, we had a rather abrupt arrival. I was awakened out of a deep sleep at 0620 hearing an urgent call, “All hands on deck, NOW!,” quickly followed by “All hands AFT.” The bow of the ship had run aground on a coral head. Hoping that the shift of weight would be sufficient to let the bow float free, we were told to move as far aft as possible. Twenty or more of us climbed up to stand on the newly varnished seats at the aftmost end of the Aloha Deck with the rest of the crew crowded in front of us. That was not sufficient to set the bow free, so both anchors were dropped, taking 2 to 3 tons of weight out of the bow.

Our third anchor was tied to a 600 foot line and taken aft in the skiff to set it as a kedge. With much maneuvering of the helm, engine (forward and reverse), heaving on one, two or all three anchors and using the skiff to push against the ship’s stern, eventually the Captain got the bow free from the coral. In the meantime, an islander, Alex, paddled out to the ship in his dugout outrigger canoe. He tied the canoe alongside our ship, got into the skiff and showed us a safe passage around the coral to an anchorage near shore. While Alex piloted from the skiff, the Captain went aloft and called commands from the shrouds above the Fore Upper Topsail yard.

After our eventful arrival, we had a late breakfast at 0845, stowed the sails and secured the anchors. The off watches were then allowed to go ashore. Since our shore visits are shorter as we hop among the islands, we are staying on our sea watches and each watch does a full 24 hour rotation of duty while we are at anchor. The 8-12 watch had the first day’s duty and the rest of us were off (I’m on 12-4, so I was on duty the second day at anchor).

Chief Saitol welcomed us into his village and introduced us to several of his family including his grandson,

Dixon

, who will be the next Chief. There are many different languages throughout the islands; even from one village to the next they may not speak the same language. The language they do speak in common is Bislama, also known as “Pidgin English”, which is more or less understandable when it is spoken, but the signs I saw written looked like a word puzzle. I listenend to Chief Saitol for quite a long time and understood maybe half of what he was saying. One phrase I picked up rather quickly is “nummawan” (translates as “number one” meaning “the best” or “very good”).

Chief Saitol is the Cultural Chief in charge of preserving the native traditions, which they call “Kastom”. This includes not only dance and music, but also teaching young people how to behave, be courteous and to respect others. Chief Saitol’s village has about 50 to 60 people; the next village down the road is slightly bigger with 100 to 150 people.

Banan

Bay

is the most rustic, primitive place we have visited. The huts are all thatch roofed, with walls woven of Pandanus Palm and dirt floors. There is no plumbing or electricity; at night campfires and kerosene lanterns are the only source of light. Cooking is all done on open fires or on hot stones in pits dug into the ground. Woven mats cover the dirt floor, not only inside the hut, but also in the outdoor gathering places which may have a roof with no walls. The one sign of modern “technology” that I saw was about a dozen plastic lawn chairs that were carried from place to place wherever a large group convened.

The second night that we were at

Banan

Bay

, Chief Saitol’s village performed Kastom Dances for us. First the men danced four or five traditional dances, including one for when a pig is killed, another intended to intimidate unwanted visitors, and one for when a man marries a woman. The men wore only a waistband with a sheath made of a leaf wrapped around their penis; and some body and face paint. The women danced, in a different location, wearing only grass skirts. One of their traditions is that after the dancing is finished all the dancers line up and shake hands with the guests.

After the Kastom Dance performance we all stood in a circle and Chief Saitol asked us to introduce ourselves one by one: name, where we are from, what we do at home, whether we are married and how many children we have. Then each of us was given a coconut to drink and we were served “lap-lap” a traditionally cooked meal served on the ground on very large leaves set on top of woven mats. There was a sticky, starchy food made of one of the roots that is a staple of the island cuisine (taro or manioc), which we tore into pieces and dipped in a tasty sauce in which a very tough old hen was cooked.

Later in the evening there was a Kava Ceremony and dancing to the local String Band. Kava is a beverage made from the yaqona root. The root is pulverized, mixed with water and then strained. The root is often presented as a gift when visiting a village and the Chiefs drink it together ceremonially. When a group of people are drinking kava together, a number of people get a coconut bowl full of kava to drink while the others all clap hands until everyone drinking has finished. Once you raise the coconut bowl to your mouth, you have to drink the entire cupfull straight down until it’s empty. The taste is not terrific; initially it can make the mouth and lips feel tingly or numb and, in larger quantities, it can make a person quite inebriated. Some of our crew who had too much became nauseated. 

The String Band has a one string bass which is a large box with a string attached to a stick that attaches to the top of the box; several ukuleles and guitars. We decided that they always play the same song and sing different words each time, including a rendition of “We Wish You a Merry Christmas”. Certainly the rhythm is the same, even if there is a slight variation in melody. People of all ages love to dance and we were never at a loss for dance partners, sometimes dancing with three or four kids at once. Even after the Chief announced that it was time for Primary School students to go to bed there were a lot of youngsters that continued to dance.

On Friday morning, our third day in

Banan

Bay

, we went ashore to trade with the islanders. We took used clothes, tools, flashlights, soap, paper and pens, kitchen appliances…anything that might be of value to them. And we traded for woven mats, baskets, shells, carvings, bow and arrows…whatever the islanders had that appealed to us. One of the more highly prized items was boars teeth, particularly any that make a full circle from base to tip.

After trading we had a couple of hours before the picnic lunch for crew and villagers on the beach. I went snorkeling with Susannah and Mike. Snorkeling is new for me and I am so amazed every time at the variety and intricacy of the coral, the beautiful reef fish. It’s a whole different world underwater, and totally intriguing.

Fiji to Vanuatu

We sailed off the hook in

Fiji

and sailed most of the way to

Vanuatu

, only using the engine when the wind died out completely. The seas were calm and it was very comfortable sailing. The ship was not rolling, we did not have huge waves of water washing over the deck, and we did not have to hold on as we walked about the ship. Even when the wind blew Force 6 for the better part of a day the sea did not pile up into huge swells.

We had a couple of workshops in which the Captain instructed us on some rigging work: how to make seizings and everything there is to know about blocks and tackles. For starters, the word “tackle” is pronounced “TAY-kul” on sailing ships. We learned how to disassemble a block, grease the inner parts and put it back together again. We learned what it means for a block and tackle rig to work for advantage and for disadvantage (yes, sometimes that is necessary).

On this passage I offered the massage classes that had previously been postponed on our passage from

Tonga

to

Fiji

when the weather was too rough. With calm seas and not much happening Sunday morning, I taught two classes the basic techniques of Swedish massage. Class was held on the cargo hatch on the main deck and there was a lot of interest from those observing in addition to those taking the class. I would have offered a third class in the afternoon for the people who were on watch during the morning, but it was pre-empted by a Power Shower. I’ve had several people request that I do the class again since they missed it; probably when we are going from

Vanuatu

to

Bali

.

Since we still did not have sufficient water for fresh water showers, and we had been at sea for five days, we were delighted to have a salt water shower followed by a half bucket of fresh water for a final rinse.

After the Power Shower, the Captain announced that we would drop the skiff in the water and everyone who wanted to take photos or video of the ship under sail would have the opportunity to do so. Winds were light and we were sailing with all sails set including the stunsails, a total of 23 sails…a rather impressive sight. In the five minutes from when he announced this plan to when we were starting to lower the skiff into the water, the wind picked up and the ship’s speed went from 3 knots to 4.5 knots. Concerned that the ship might go even faster if the wind continued to fill in, the Captain called “Avast” and we cancelled the operation.

Sunday afternoon was also our last Marlinspike party in the South Pacific. We were all given a

Picton

Castle

pareu (sarong, lava lava, pareo…it’s all the same thing, no matter what it’s called), and told to dress in South Pacific style. Rather than the pareu, I opted to wear a grass skirt and ‘ei (headpiece) that I had purchased in

Tonga

. With it I wore a halter top that is a remnant from my high school days in the ’70s; the halter top made as much of an impression as the grass skirt!

On this passage I’ve been on the 12 to 4 watch with Greg, our second mate, and Amanda as lead seaman. Also on my watch are Bernie, Bruce, Erin, Ivan, Jack, JD, Jeff Hicks, Margot and Ollie. Getting up for the midnight to 4 am watch is not always easy, especially when the wake up call is so pleasant sounding that I fall right back to sleep again. That happened twice in five days…oops! Now the watch preceding mine knows to make sure I’m awake and JD, who bunks above me, also double checks to be sure I get up.