Travels With Barbara

Palmerston to Tonga

We sailed off the hook, without turning on the engine at all, when we left Palmerston. That is the first time we've done that! We continued to sail all the way to Tonga, only turning on the engine the day we arrived when we had to motor straight into the wind to approach the island and go upriver to the harbor at Neiafu.

Our passage from Palmerston to Tonga was beautiful, calm sailing with occassional squalls passing by. We set three stunsails on the foremast for the first time this voyage. Unfortunately for me, the stunsails were set on the day I had galley duty, so I did not have a chance to learn the lines for handling those sails.

Since we cross the International Date Line just before arriving in Tonga, we lost a day. According to when we actually crossed longitude 172 degrees West (the dateline swings east of Tonga, so it's not 180 degrees West) we would have lost Sunday, going from Saturday to Monday. However, Sunday is our day off from ship's work and it is the day we have marlinspike parties at sea. So, nobody wanted to loose Sunday. Our bosun, Lynsey, prevailed upon the Captain to change the ship's date a couple of days early. So on Thursday a sign was posted that said "Friday has been cancelled due to lack of interest. Tomorrow will be Saturday."

The weather had been so calm that we almost forgot the possibility of rough seas. However, Saturday night the wind picked up from Force 2-3 to Force 6 and continued strong throughout Sunday and our arrival on Monday morning. I had offered to teach massage classes on the cargo hatch Sunday afternoon because there's always a lot of interest when I am doing massage for one of my shipmates. 24 people signed up so I had scheduled three classes of 8 people, each for 45 minutes. We had to postpone it on account of the rough seas.

True to form, we came into Tonga with bad weather. Every port we have arrived in has been with squalls or stormy weather. This was no exception. I was on the helm from 0800 to 0900 and the rain was driving straight into my eyes about half of that time. The fog was thick enough to blanket land that was only a mile or two away. Even so, I could see enough of the island to know this is a beautiful place.

Palmerston Atoll

Palmerston Atoll is one of five motus (islands made of coral) that are connected in a circle and surrounded by a coral reef. Spectacularly beautiful and treacherous to navigate. We anchored outside the reef and went ashore in the islanders boats, letting them navigate their way around all the coral heads and the remains of old shipwrecks. There are a number of strategically positioned sticks that help mark the channel. And they frequently look back at the island to keep their bearings while snaking in and out of the reef. I went ashore for the first time the morning after we arrived and I was amazed to see how close we came to the reef, how strong the current is in some places and the adept manner in which they maneuver the boats. There is no dock, we just stepped out into the shallow water when we got as close to shore as the boats can go.

Stepping out onto Paradise Beach is quite an experience...white coral sand and seashells, palm trees bending in the breeze, crystal clear water in many shades of blue, aquamarine, azure. We quickly discovered that all the finest looking seashells were inhabited. Even the tiniest ones; when we picked any of them up and turned it over we could see tiny crab legs tucked inside. And if you watch closely you'll see these shells walking along the sand.

Each of us from the ship stayed with a family on Palmerston. I stayed at Inano Marster's home along with Ivan and Rebecca. Inona's son, Bill, and  his wife, Metua, and their three children, Julianna (4 years old), Ned (2 yrs.) and Caroline (10 months) live  next door. Between the two houses Bill has built the Palmerston Island Yacht Club for the yachties who visit the island. It has two bathrooms and shower (cold water), an upstairs with four beds, a bar on the ground floor and two more beds behind the bar. The focal piece of furniture is a beautiful mahogany picnic table with benches that is about 14 feet long. There's also a hammock and several swings. In short, it is a popular place for everyone to hang out from morning to night.

Inano is one of the older women on the island. When I mentioned to her that my great-uncle, Irving Johnson and his wife, Exy, had sailed to Palmerston in the 1930's on "Yankee", she went into the house and came back with a book. It was "Westward Bound in the Schooner Yankee," written by Irving and Exy, with an inscription to Ned Marsters (Inano's grandfather) signed by Irving and Exy. So, once again, I follow in the wake of the Yankee and my seafaring ancestors.

Inano's house has the only hot showers (two of them) on the island and a washing machine for laundry, so lots of the crew stopped in to use one or the other even though they were staying elsewhere. We also had lots of visitors at mealtimes. Food is an important aspect of life on Palmerston and nobody misses a meal. I was expecting to sleep in the first morning that I was there, but at 7:30 am Bill knocked on the wall and called out, "Barbara, it's 7:30, time for breakfast, wake up." Meals are eaten in an outdoor dining area with a roof over the top for shelter. There are no walls so you can see anyone who happens to walk by down the road. Anyone within eyesight is fair game to be called upon to come have a meal. Even having just eaten breakfast at another house is no excuse to not eat breakfast at our house. The same goes for lunch and dinner. If you're not careful you could eat each meal two or three times before getting to wherever you might be going.

Dancing and volleyball are both important elements of life on Palmerston, and the Picton Castle crew joined in  both in a big way. Men and women learned dances to be performed at the final barbeque party. The women's dance was rather complicated with hand movements that tell the story of the song, and foot steps side to side, back and forward, all while "shaking our bums" as they so eloquently describe it. After two hours practice each day for four days, we began to look rather coordinated and the bum shaking improved noticeably. I've always enjoyed dance classes and I had a lot of fun with it, despite feeling totally uncoordinated for the first two days.

Everyday at 4pm the volleyball court filled with islanders and Picton Castle crew. Although we did put up a good fight, the score seemed to always favor the islanders. They play everyday from the time they are quite young. In our defense, we have no place to practice volleyball on board the ship. So, it's not surprising that they came out on top. It was fun for everyone, nonetheless.

I also had my first taste of snorkelling while on Palmerston. We snorkelled by a deep hole with coral heads right near the edge of the beach. A friend loaned me his snorkel gear and explained how to breathe without drinking gulps of sea water. I had just been in the water two or three minutes, barely long enought to get the hang of what I was doing, when I got called back to the ship. I did get to see some gorgeous coral formations and colorful fish that I had not seen at all from above the surface of the water. I was quite impressed and ready to do more.

However, another squall was coming in and it looked serious. So at 1330 they called back those of us who were scheduled to be on watch starting at 2030. I had to run back to my house, pack my bag quickly and find a boat to take me out to the ship. We spent several hours on deck in the pouring rain, standing by the anchor with the engine running, ready to heave up and move the ship if we might run aground on the reef. The Captain called for the yards to be braced and going from the foc'sle head down to the main deck I slipped on the wet steps, going down the ladder as if it were a slide, banging my elbow on the steel step. Ouch. I've fallen and banged myself up several times (as has everyone else), but that one really hurt a lot. Almost two weeks later, it's still sensitive if I happen to knock it on something...which happens more often than I would like.

The party and dance performance we were to have that same night was postponed to the following night. Which meant that we had to stay an extra day in port. No complaints from me; I spent another hour or two on the beach the next morning, went to another dance practice, and had time to visit with several of the families, ate two lunches, and had one more hot shower. When we did have the party and dance performance, the dances were a huge success.

Before we left Palmerston on Sunday, we hosted a party on board the Picton Castle for our Palmerston friends who had hosted us, taught us to dance and shared their beautiful island paradise with us. As was the case when we left Pitcairn, we had a difficult time saying goodbye and there were plenty of tears, especially since many of us may never get back to Palmerston for another visit.

Rarotonga to Palmerston

We left Rarotonga Sunday afternoon, having delayed our departure one day because of heavy seas that came in with a low pressure system. Since I did not have to be on the ship when we were given an extra day off, a friend and I went to the other side of the island where we watched huge waves breaking on the reef and spray going up 50 to 100 feet high. It was very impressive and I was glad to not be out at sea in that weather.

The weather was still a bit rough when we left on Sunday. There was a low pressure system that was expected to stay around for 3 or 4 days; we could not delay our departure that long, so despite the rough seas, we set sail.  We had a quick two day run to Palmerston Atoll, another island in the Cook Islands group.

As with all the other ports we've arrived at, we came in with stormy weather. The atoll is surrounded by a coral reef which makes it difficult to anchor. We anchored just off the reef and had to keep a close watch on how the ship swung as the wind changed direction the entire time that we were there. I was on anchor watch the first night that we were there and it was on my watch, from 1 am to 2:40 am, that a serious squall came through.

Winds gusting to Force 5 or Force 6, continually shifting directions, had the ship swinging around on her anchor, coming quite close to the reef. The second mate, Greg, who was the officer in charge of the ship called all hands up on deck, told the engineer to start up the engine and had us standing by to possibly heave up the anchor to move the ship. Several radio calls back and forth to the Captain ashore who consulted with the local folk about the likely direction of the storm, and we finally decided to stay put and ride it out where we were.

I was lucky to be on radio watch which means that I was in the chart house, out of the rain, most of the time. Although, when I had to go out on the quarter deck for a minute or two to tell Greg that the Captain was on the radio, I got soaking wet. Foul weather jacket did very little to keep me dry; even those who were wearing their full foul weather gear got soaking wet. So, once again, we bring a bit of Lunenburg's foul weather with us to the port we are visiting.

Rarotonga

We've spent a week in Rarotonga and I wish we had more time here. It is a wonderful island and we've had a lot of fun here. The second night we were here we had a party at Trader Jack's, a restaurant and bar that serves as the corporate headquarters for the Picton Castle. Trader Jack's was hit hard, along with quite a few other establishments, by five cyclones that came ashore here within three weeks last February. At the party, Picton Castle crew presented Trader Jack's with several items to add to the new decor: a rope mat, a knot board and a beautiful painting of the Picton Castle arriving at Rarotonga, painted by Ollie. (Anyone who has seen "The Rocketeer" or "The 4400" TV show might recognize Ollie as Bill Campbell.)

Several of us then went to a dinner theater for "Island Night". We ate a huge plate full of traditional island foods and watched dancers dressed in the traditional costumes:  grass skirts and coconut bras for the women, pareus for the men. The music and dance were terrific. I am still wondering how the women move their hips as fast as they do.

Saturday morning we went to the open air market which is just around the corner from where the ship is docked. It is called the Panganua Cultural Market and they sell jewelry, clothing, crafts, produce and flowers. I had noticed the very first day that we were here that many women wear a head band of fresh flowers as they go about their day-to-day lives, not just for a party. The woman in front of me in line at the bank, another in the grocery store, and others riding their scooters down the road, all wearing a band of flowers. It looks beautiful. So, when I saw the flower headbands being sold at the market, I had to buy one for myself. I wore it all day for two days, including riding a bicycle around the island on Sunday. It felt delightful to be decked out in flowers for no special reason at all.

Saturday night we had a party on board to say farewell to the people who are leaving the ship (Paulina, Dr. Jeremy, Ray, Papa Jack and Jane) and to welcome our new arrivals (Bernie, Dr. Keith and Rachel). We invited a lot of local people, many of whom already know the ship from her previous visits. Good food, good company and good weather.

Some other highlights of my stay in Rarotonga include paddling a double vaka (canoe)...look for a log on the ship's website about this in a week or so; a tour of artists studios and galleries in which we met the artists and watched them working; a picnic lunch on the beach; watching the sailing vaka races; and watching a masterful tatoo artist at work on many of my shipmates and, finally, on me!

We head out to sea in an hour. I'm going to call home, make one or two last minute purchases, then onto the ship.

Mangareva - Archaeology and Hiking

While in Mangareva, we were invited to go see a couple of archaeology sites on Taravai, another island in the Gambiers Islands. Five of us from the Picton Castle (Torunn, Johanna, Catharine, Jeff Bartlett and myself) went with our tour guide, Theonny, in a small outboard skiff to Taravai which was about half an hour away. We saw an archaeology dig in process at three different locations on the island. We talked with archaeology professors from Tahiti and UC Berkeley (Calif.) and watched them and their students excavating each site with meticulous precision. They sift through small amounts of dirt at a time looking for bones or other artifacts, each of which is carefully bagged and recorded as to its exact location. It looks rather tedious to me. They are looking for, and have found, evidence of earlier human inhabitation of the island.

The day that I returned from camping out with the Monomoy crew, I had planned to meet up with Jeff B. on the town dock at noon to hike up Mount Duff. However, when I got there I learned that he had arrived early and set off to climb the mountain with Catharine. So I decided to make the climb on my own. Papa Jack gave me a few pointers on where to find the trail (he had climbed it earlier in the morning). The road to the trail head was steep with a good view of the harbor. The trail was clearly marked from the road, however, within a couple of minutes walk along the trail it became not so clear as I walked into what might be the enchanted forest. A densely intertwined jungle of tree branches growing as low as four to five feet off the ground made it difficult to distinguish the trail. After one or two false starts, I found what appeared to be the trail, marked with white paint on trees.

Having made it through the enchanted mangrove forest, I then encountered several different terrains and ecosystems as I ascended towards the peak. First was a woodland, similar to what I am accustomed to in the Northeast, deciduous trees with underbrush, and a clear, well-marked trail. Nonetheless, I periodically made note of specific landmarks to be sure that I came back down the same trail later.  There was also a boggy, wet section of woods, then the steep pine forest with so many pine needles on the ground that it was difficult to get solid footing. Higher up the trees became more sparse and scrubby until there was just bare ground, a lot of loose rock and grass with thistles.

Actually, there are two peaks, side by side and half-way up the trail splits, one path going to Aurotini on the left and the other going to Mokoto on the right. I knew that I wanted to climb the peak on the right, Mokoto; it turns out that Aurotini is actually the highest peak of Mt. Duff and that's the trail that everyone else was climbing. I did not know that at the time and set off to climb Mokoto. Although it look like it would be easy to scramble up the bare hilltop after getting above the treeline, the loose rock made it rather treacherous. And if there was any semblance of a trail, I lost it early on. So I just zig-zagged up what looked like a reasonable path to the ridge.

On the way back down, I was careful to look for the strange shaped boulders that I had noted on the way up to be sure I was in the right vicinity to find my trail. Even so, I made two false starts on what appeared to be a trail but which petered out in the woods. Each time I back-tracked slightly higher up on the hill and eventually I did find the trail. I knew I was in the right place when I had to climb around a small yew that was growing out across the trail. On the way up I had thought it was rather inconveniently situated; when I recognized it on the way down, I was truly grateful for it being exactly where it is...in a very noticeable spot.

Just after I passed the place where the two trails joined up on the way down, I met up with Jeff and Catharine who had climbed the other peak. We shared what was left of our resources...I had water and they had food. When I left the ship in the morning, I had grabbed a couple of mandarin oranges which I had eaten long ago. After the strenuous climb, I was glad to have a bite to eat. When we got back down to the coast road, we went to the beach for a late afternoon wading in the shallow water to cool off our tired, overworked feet.

Mangareva: Monomoy trip

The Picton Castle carries several smaller boats, two of which hang from davits, and two sit atop the galley house. In the davits, ready to launch at a moment's notice, we have a skiff with an outboard motor  and a lifeboat very similar to the one in which Captain Bligh and his men were set adrift by the HMS Bounty mutineers. Our lifeboat, known as the Monomoy, has eight rowing positions as well as a sailing rig.

While in Mangareva several groups of us took turns going on overnight camping trips to a smaller island in the Monomoy. I went out with nine other crew on Monday afternoon (Aug. 15th) and we returned Tuesday morning (Aug. 16th). There was a nice wind when we left. Before setting sail we had to row out beyond the reef. The channel is well marked with buoys, which makes it easy to pilot the boat. Once we were clear of the reef, we shipped the oars, set the rudder, tiller and lee board in place, and raised the mainsail and jib. We sailed until we were about 150 meters away from the island on which we would camp. We had to lower the sails and row in past the coral reef with one person on the bow looking out for coral heads and directing the helmsman where to steer to avoid hitting any coral. It took us just over an hour to get from the ship to the island.

As soon as we arrived we collected firewood and set up our hammocks for the night. Wading, swimming, snorkelling and sunbathing on the beach consumed the rest of the afternoon. We mixed up some marlinspike, fruit punch with rum. When we ran out of fruit punch we discovered the "rare Mangarevan rum nut"...this is a coconut which within a couple of minutes of being opened releases a delicious rum and coconut flavor liquid when tilted up to the lips. We had several of these rum nuts, each with it's own name: Diamond Nut (so named for the shape of the opening in the coconut) and Good Nut were the favorites.

Once the campfire had some good coals, John Kemper put the roast chickens on to cook along with cut up potatoes wrapped in foil and a can of cut green beans. Unfortunately, the chicken was not thoroughly defrosted, so some parts were crispy burnt while other parts were only half cooked when we ate it a couple of hours later. Meanwhile, the potatoes were crispy and burnt; the beans were warm, not burnt, just bland. For after dinner treat we cooked up some popcorn, which is easier said than done when you don't have a proper lid for the pot. We salvaged some foil that had been used on the potatoes to (mostly) cover the pot.

Maggie has worked at summer camp programs for quite a few years, so she took the lead on camp songs and campfire games. A couple of the games were puzzles to figure out before being able to join in, and I have to admit it was not so simple...until all of a sudden it became crystal clear obvious! We had a lot of laughs passing the rum nuts around, singing songs and guessing answers to the games.

Sleeping in a hammock was a new experience for me. I decided that I had not strung mine up in the optimal manner as I wound up completely enveloped like a "C" shaped cocoon. Somehow, I did manage to sleep through most of the night.

In the morning, we ate a cold breakfast (muffins, peanut butter and jelly), struck camp and loaded up the Monomoy to return to the ship. We made the mistake of loading all our gear into the boat before we launched it off the beach, so it was that much heavier to push it down to the water's edge and get it afloat. Since the tide was out and we had pulled it up onto the beach at high tide the night before, we had quite a bit of work to get it in the water. With absolutely no wind, we had to row all the way back to the ship...about an hour and a half. En route we saw a shark and several schools of smaller fish. 

Mangareva, French Polynesia

Mangareva is one of several islands in the Gambier Islands group of French Polynesia. We anchored in Rikitea harbor. Rikitea is the largest "city" on Mangareva. Our first day ashore, within an hour or so, we had walked the entire length of the main street of Rikitea. We found four small grocery stores, one cafe, the Cathedral, the Gendarme office and, on a side street, the Post Office.

Everyone speaks French, which is not my strong suit when it comes to languages. I did learn several words and by the time we left after a week in port I could actually purchase a bottle of water or a box of wine at the store by myself. My greatest achievement conversing in French came on our last day, just half an hour before leaving. As I was walking back to the dock to meet the skiff, an elderly woman called to me from her yard asking me, in French, whether I speak French.  I said, "un peu" (a little bit). The next thing she said seemed to be asking me whether I like pamplemouse (grapefruit). I said "oui" and she told me, as much through hand signals as through the words she spoke, to wait there for her to bring me some pamplemouse. She then ran uphill, across the street, into her garden. A few minutes later she came back and gave me three large pamplemouse and a few limes in a bag. Pamplemouse is quite a bit larger and much sweeter than the grapefruit I am accustomed to at home. It's a real treat.

Since my French really is not proficient at all, the day I wanted to visit a pearl farm I went with a shipmate, Jeff Hicks (from New Brunswick, Canada), who speaks French quite well. Otherwise I would have no idea what they were telling me about the pearl farming operation. First of all, there are no advertised pearl farm tours. You just have to find someone who knows someone who is willing to take you to see their pearl farm. Black pearls are a mainstay of the economy on Mangareva. 

Jeff and I walked several miles out of town, along the coast road until finally we arrived at an artisan's shop where they polish pearl shells and make jewelry with pearls. Along the way we had asked several people, to no avail, about visiting a pearl farm. On our return walk, we happened to see someone coming in from a pearl farming operation and asked whether it would be possible to visit. This particular farm is the only one I saw that was connected to the island by a very long, and rickety, pier; all the others were offshore and required a boat to get there.

The owner of the pearl farm took us out to see how the pearls are seeded, attached to mats and then set to grow in the lagoon.  It was very interesting to see how tiny the seeds are and how carefully they work with precision to set them into the oysters. We watched the different steps of the seeding and harvesting process. When I asked whether they eat the oysters after the pearls are harvested, they invited each of us to reach into a large bucket of raw oysters and eat one. Half-wondering what sort of gut-wrenching illness I might possibly contract, I accepted the invitation and ate a delicious, chewy oyster. Fortunately I did not suffer any ill effects. We also were allowed to take some of the mother-of -pearl shells, which I hope to polish up when I get home.

My sea shell collection grew substantially with a couple of visits to the beach. At first, I did not look for any collectible shells because once I get started I don't know when to stop. However, after seeing the intriguing shells that Johanna collected and the jewelry made of pearls and shells, I succumbed to beachcombing and digging up shells.  Mostly I picked up small shells and fragments that had some interesting design or color. The last time I went to the beach, by myself at the end of a long day, I happened to catch sight of the edge of a giant clam shell buried in the sand right next to the large boulder where all of us had been placing our bags and towels each day that we came to this beach. I was surprised that nobody had noticed it previously. I started digging around it and discovered that in order to excavate the shell I had seen poking up through the sand I had to first dig out another smaller giant clam shell. Both of these shells turned out to be fully in tact, two hinged matching halves. Quite a find!

Pitcairn to Mangareva

Saying goodbye to our friends on Pitcairn was difficult. Everyone on the island came to the landing to wish us well on our journey and many of them came with us in the longboat out to the ship. They sent us off with many gifts, especially bananas, oranges, lemons and pumpkins. The stern of our ship looked like a banana orchard with stalks of bananas hanging everywhere. When we got out to the ship we had a party that the on-ship watch had prepared to thank our Pitcairn hosts for their hospitality. After a couple of hours of celebrating our new friendships, we finally had to say goodbye and watch them climb back into their longboat. As they pulled away from our ship the Pitcairners all sang one of their island songs for us. We fired up the engine and headed West towards Mangareva.

Our passage from Pitcairn to Mangareva was only two days. Since the winds were not favorable, we motored most of the way. Occasionally we set some of the fore 'n aft sails for added power.  Since we were at sea only a short time, we did not change our watch schedules, so I was still on the 8 to 12 watch.

We arrived  at Mangareva on Friday, August 12th late in the afternoon. Fortunately it was sunny that day and we had enough light for the Captain to pilot the ship through the passage in the reef. The color and clarity of the water is amazing: crystal clear shades of blue, green, aquamarine through which you can see white coral and black algae covered rocks and coral. We anchored in the outer harbor because daylight was already waning and the inner harbor is more difficult to navigate without sufficient light. Captain Moreland, Kimberly (ship's Purser) and Jeff Hicks (who speaks French quite well) went ashore in the skiff to clear us through Customs.

Since we would be moving the ship closer in toward shore in the morning, nobody was given shore leave on Friday evening. We all stayed aboard and at 6am we were awakened with a call for "all hands on deck" to move the ship. Ten of us started heaving up the anchor with the windlass; another dozen or more people stood by to substitute in as people got tired of heaving on the windlass. It's a lot of work to bring up three shots of chain plus the anchor. The most difficult part is when all the slack is taken out of the chain and the anchor has to be pulled free from the bottom.

Once we got the ship secured in its new location, shore leave was granted to anyone who was not on watch. It had started raining earlier and by the time we went ashore it was pouring torrentially and the wind was blowing quite strong. We seem to have a knack for coming ashore on rainy days. The rain does not deter us; we just have fun regardless of how wet we are. And this day even the foulies we wore did not keep us dry. We walked up and down the main street of Rikitea, Mangareva's port town, getting wetter by the minute. Most of the shops were closed because it was still their mid-day break (in Spanish they call it "siesta"; I don't know the word in French). We did find one cafe that was open and sat on the covered terrace, mostly out of the rain...except for the rain that came in sideways under the roof.

While we were sitting in the cafe, the wind picked up steadily. Since we are always tracking the force of the wind as we sail (that 's one of the items we record every hour in the ship's log), we have become pretty good at recognizing the feel of it as it changes. Within minutes the wind increased from Force 4 to Force 5, then 6, and 7. It might have even gusted up to Force 8. The big wind was too much for the anchor we had set. The anchor dragged and everyone on board the ship heard and felt a thud as the ship's stern went aground. Fortunately she hit a sandy bottom, not the reef, so there was no damage and they were able to motor off to deeper water. The starboard anchor was pulled up and a larger anchor that we carry on the port side of the bow was set. After that stormy day, the weather settled down and we had no more problems with the anchor...until it came time to heave it up a week later. Then we just had to apply a strong team of muscles!