NZFJ Passage Notes: "The During"

Twelve hundred miles.  Eight days.  Three people.  One boat.  

·      How did we manage with just three of us? 

·      What was it like to be in the middle of the ocean?

·      Were there any problems? 

Here are some tidbits about life on board the sailing vessel Avalon as she sliced through the wind and waves at an average speed of over 6 knots.

Departing from Marsden Cove Marina (Day 1).  Originally, we had a team of four to sail the boat.  Skipper Tom, First Mate Rick, and Crew Dan and Brad.  However, as we waited in Marsden Cove Marina analyzing the weather and looking for a safe window, Brad ran out of time.  He had to fly home, leaving just the three of us to make the long passage.  It was a big bummer, but we had to get over it and continue the task at hand:  getting to Fiji.  After waiting an extra day for a weather front to pass, we departed on Thursday, May 12.   I was thrilled to be underway.

We cranked Led Zepplin as we departed the slip perfectly.  Tom put her in forward and we cruised down the narrow channel into the Hatea River.   But our excitement was immediately put on hold.  A huge cargo ship was just departing from the nearby port, with tugboats pulling it away from the dock, blocking our path.  We made radio contact with one of the tugs to let them know our intentions.  We then spun a few slow circles, watching and waiting, and then finally followed the cargo ship down the river and out into the ocean.

We then turned to port (left) and headed north on our way to Fiji!

Saying Goodbye to Land (Day 2).  During the first couple of days, we had relatively light wind, calm seas, and clear skies.  I watched the final bits of land disappear beyond the horizon.  We were on our own now, that’s for sure.  We motor-sailed a lot of the time (main sail up, but assisted with engine on).  This was great because it gave us – especially me, the newbie to ocean passage-making – a chance to get acclimated to life on board the boat. 

We had 1,200 miles to travel but we only had fuel for about 700 miles of motoring.  (And we had to use some of our fuel to run the auxiliary motor for battery charging, water-making, and refrigerating).  We knew we HAD to do some sailing.  So even in the light wind, we tried to sail.  

On Saturday, we hoisted the “cruising chute” which is like a small spinnaker (the colorful, kite-like headsail you see on boats going downwind).  This was a good sail to use in the light wind we were getting. 

We tried not to “wish for more wind” because superstition warns to be careful what you wish for.  Too much wind could be worse than not enough wind.  We had plenty of food, and could make fresh water at the rate of 40 gallons an hour – so we were in no rush.  We were happy to wait for the wind to come.

Sailing All Day and All Night.  We sailed every day, all day and all night.  With just 3 people, we carefully structured each day and night into watches.  The standard structure at night was going to be 2 hours on, 4 hours off, 2 hours on, 4 hours off.   During the daytime, the standard would be 3 hours on, 6 hours off, 3 hours on.  Of course this would all depend on conditions.  In rough conditions, we would adjust length of watches, or even double up (e.g., one person is on watch, but another person is in the cockpit just watching the watch person to make sure he stays awake!)  Then we catch up on sleep when the weather improves. 

Unfortunately, when you’re not on watch, you can’t just go sleep. There are plenty of other jobs to be done while underway:  trimming sails, checking our position and course, recording entries in the ship’s log, tidying up lines and cabin space, and making tea and meals, cleaning the galley and head, etc.

In the end, we worked well as a three-person team, adjusting as I mentioned from the intended four-person team.  We all got a bit less sleep, but we ate more food, than planned. :-)

Eating and Drinking.   Three guys on a boat for 8 days?  Especially me.  I am not known for my cooking skills.  You may wonder what we ate and how we cooked.   Well, I’ve covered the “what” part of the question in the “Shopping for Food” section.  But I’ll cover a bit of the “how” here.

Like many things with sailing, our diet varied with the weather.  In unfavorable conditions, we made sure we had easy-to-prep items that we could just heat up in the oven and/or that required no slicing and dicing: frozen pizzas, minced meat pies, and the classic peanut butter and jelly sandwich.  On calmer days, we got more creative:  pasta pesto, toasted ham and cheese sandwiches, and roasted chicken.

In addition to meals, there was a near constant flow of hot tea and coffee coming from our kettle – no matter what the weather. 

Important safety note:  As skipper Tom reminded us constantly, in the middle of the ocean, help is a long way away.  Even a cut finger, stubbed toe, or bump on the head could turn into something serious.  Infection, break, or concussion.  BE CAREFUL.  So for cooking, we tried to minimize slicing and dicing.  We tried not to boil large pots of water that could spill and scald.  And we were always careful with the stovetop open flame.

Getting Drenched, Dried, and Clean (Day 3 & 4).  After three days of decent weather, on Sunday we hit the nasty stuff.  We ran into a convergence zone of dueling air pressure systems which presented us with 12 hours of constant rain, wind, and seas.  We donned our foul-weather gear and took turns at the helm, with the other two people hunched behind our dodger (windshield and roof) for safety and warmth.  None of us had seen so much rain – it was just relentless.    

We sailed on through the afternoon and evening.  At some point during the dark night, the rain finally stopped and the sky cleared. 

The following day was completely clear – blue skies, sunny, warm, light wind again.  We hung our wet gear along the lifelines (cable railings along the boat) to dry out.  We took turns showering with the fresh water hose at the stern of the boat.   Ah, a shower never felt better.

Taking Care of the Boat. Out in the middle of the ocean, it was just us, the boat, and Mother Nature.  There is no Vessel Assist or Coast Guard.  There are no other boats around (usually).   During our passage, we worked hard to keep the boat clean, organized, and in proper working condition.  We investigated any unusual noise, any part missing or out of place.  We tried to keep the stress on the boat (bashing through waves) to a minimum – not just for crew comfort, but for the boat’s comfort.  We take care of her, and she’ll take care of us.  That was our motto.  We also took care of each other.  As I’ve said, we were depending on each other’s skills, opinions, fitness, and health.  We make sure each other is hydrated, well-rested, not seasick, etc.  Not just to make it to Fiji, but to survive. 

Sailing Wing-on-Wing in the Moonlight (Day 5 & 6).  After the Sunday rain and Monday sunshine, we encountered another couple of days of light wind, with a change in wind direction.  We were approaching the southeast trade winds, which would carry us up to Fiji.  It was more of a downwind course at this point, versus up or across the wind like the previous few days.   This downwind heading gave us the opportunity to try a new sail configuration:  wing-on-wing.  We used the pole to position the jib on the opposite side of the boat as the boom and mainsail.  With both sails eased out to the max, we created a lot of sail area to catch the wind and move us along at 6 knots.  The sails on either side of the hull make it look like the boat has wings, hence the name wing-on-wing.

We sailed this way all afternoon, with the boat gently rocking along with each swell.    We continued on into the evening, with the light of the full moon shining down on the white sails.  It was quite peaceful and graceful.

Running from Storms (Day 7).  By Thursday, the wind and seas were picking up.  We were a couple hundred miles away from Fiji.  (We sail 100-200 miles a day depending on conditions).  Reports of “cyclonic conditions” in Fiji for the weekend kept us on high alert – we had to get to Fiji before those conditions developed.   We were already seeing 6-10 foot swells, and numerous squalls developing around us.

We stayed our course and sailed as fast as we could.  As a squall approached, we could feel the gusty winds pick up (from 20 mph to suddenly 30 mph), and we beared away (headed downwind) to ease the forces on the boat.  We took turns driving, as usual, but today was more intense.  It really took the driver’s full attention to stay on course in the high wind and seas, but also to be responsive enough to react as the squalls passed over.

By 3am or 4am, we were through the worst of it.  As the skies cleared, land ho!  Over the dark horizon, we could see the outline of the even darker mountains of Fiji.  We hove-to for a few hours to get some sleep.  (Heaving-to means positioning the sails and rudder such that the forces counteract each other and the boat basically stays in one place, other than any effect of ocean current.)  Rick and Tom had done several hours of the tough driving at night through the squalls, so I stayed on watch from 3am to 6am, letting them get some much needed sleep.

BULA, Fiji! (Day 8)  On Friday, at 6am, we re-engaged the sails for forward momentum, and headed to Vuda Marina.  We carefully navigated through the outer reefs and by 10am, we had tied up to the mooring ball outside the marina. We radioed for Customs and Immigration to come out to the boat for boarding, inspection, and check-in.  We made it! 

As you might imagine, that night we had long showers, a big dinner, and then one hell of a celebration at the Vuda Marina Bar and nearby Nadi Town. 

But those details, of course, are not for this blog.  :-)

NZFJ Passage Notes: "The Before"

Sailing across an ocean is serious business.  At some point, we will be hundreds of miles away from anyone or anything.  If the boat breaks or someone gets hurt, help could be hours if not days away.  We would be depending on each other and the sailboat for survival.  Literally. 

Needless to say, that meant preparation and planning was critical; and I commend our Skipper Tom for being so diligent and insistent about this.  “Take care of the boat, and she’ll take care of us,” he would say repeatedly.  “And take care of each other.”  (More on this later.)

As you’ve read in my earlier posts, I spent the month of April helping Tom with this first “preparing and planning” stage.  In some cases, admittedly, I was just kind of watching and learning – in other cases I was actively involved.   I will touch on a few aspects of the preparation and planning:  preparing the boat, selecting the crew, shopping for food, planning the course, and forecasting the weather.   These are in no particular order, nor am I saying they are the only or the most important things.  They are just items that might be fun to talk/read about.

Preparing the Boat.  Since Skipper Tom had recently purchased the boat (used) about 6 months ago, there was a lot of routine maintenance and minor repairs/upgrades that had to be done as part of the preparation.  We had the hull painted, the rudder inspected, the transmission cable replaced, the water-maker membranes replaced, fuel lines flushed, WIFI installed, hatch-covers and seat-covers made, back-up halyard added, and so much more.  But this was all sort of normal, routine stuff.  Ok maybe WIFI was an upgrade. J  In the end, as you’ll read, the boat performed beautifully, hitting a top speed of 11 knots.  Smooth and stable. 

For me, the boat preparation was an eye-opening experience.  Up until now, my sailing experience has been mostly day or night charters on the San Francisco Bay through the Olympic Circle Sailing Club.   The sailing aspect of these short trips can be challenging, with high wind, strong currents, and lots of traffic.  And the planning is up to me – where should we dock for lunch, dinner, or drinks?  But the boat preparation on these day trips is virtually non-existent – because it’s all taken care of beautifully by the Club’s service department.  I just show up, do some quick paperwork and boat inventory, and then set sail! 

So to spend over a month involved in fixing things, improving things, and cleaning things gave me tremendous insight into what boat ownership and passage making requires -- great patience and big pocket book, among other things.  You don’t just prance down to the dock, step onto your boat, and shove off.  Similar to the business world, you’re best off having a network of reliable experts whom you trust and who can help with the project du jour.   

Selecting the Crew.   As I mentioned, we would be all alone in the middle of an ocean, depending on each other for survival.  We needed to trust, respect, and like each other – and have confidence in each other’s abilities and judgments.  Skipper Tom picked out an amazing crew of 3 skilled sailors with easy-going, fun personalities.   Unfortunately, one of the crew had to fly home for previous commitments before we departed on the passage.  So just Skipper Tom, First Mate Rick, and I made the passage.  Brad, we missed you.

Shopping for Food.   Provisioning, or planning meals and shopping for food, was similar to what you would do for a camping trip.  I’ve included a bit of this fun process in one of my videos.   You might think that a boat with four guys was stocked with beer, frozen pizza, and potato chips.   Not at all!  The passage would be physical, tiring, and cold; we needed to stay healthy and fit.  We stocked our fridge and cupboards with fruits and vegetables, yogurt, tea, pasta, eggs, oatmeal, peanut butter, cold cuts, and bread.  In the freezer we had a couple half-chickens, and yes, I confess, a couple of frozen pizzas.  And ice cream.  J

Planning the Course.  Skipper Tom and First Mate Rick handled most of the course planning.  Tom has done this route several times before.  But I hovered over the charts also to see where we would be going and I programmed our waypoints into my handheld GPS.  As you might imagine, course planning and navigation are hugely important on a passage of 1,200 across an ocean. Steering a few degrees off course for a few hours, can lead to serious problems if you are short on food, water, fuel, good weather, or crew energy.  Or, even worse, you could find yourself on top of a reef or in a shipping lane. If nothing else, it just adds time to your overall trip. 

Steering on a particular course can be difficult as the waves knock the boat around and as the wind shifts direction.

The objective of a delivery passage is to get the boat from Point A to Point B as fast as possible – and as safely as possible.  It may seem counter-intuitive, but speed is actually a safety factor – the faster you go, the safer you are.  (See my next point about Weather.)  

Forecasting the Weather.  It goes without saying that weather is an enormous factor for a safe passage.  Wind, rain, low clouds, and sea state can all jeopardize stability, visibility, course, and speed.  Yet forecasts are generally only reliable up to 3-5 days.  Beyond that, the confidence and accuracy is reduced dramatically.  This is why boat speed is so important.  The faster you go, the more time you are sailing in the weather window that you have predicted fairly confidently.  If your passage is going to take 10 days or more, then you’ll be doing weather forecasting (and reacting) en route. 

The level of weather analysis that went into the preparation and planning was truly fascinating, and exceeded my expectations in terms of sophistication.   Skipper Tom had done this passage several times before, so he was familiar with the general weather patterns.  As early as two weeks before our proposed departure date, Tom was pouring over local weather data – forecasts from multiple sources, raw data from an online service, anecdotal reports from fellow sailors in the area, and a special advisory report from a local meteorologist.   Due to El Nino, the weather patterns this year were quite different from the last several years so forecasts had a much lower confidence level. 

Check out www.windyty.com or www.predictwind.com for examples of what we were looking at, although those are just visualizations of the raw data that we also were receiving.  

Again, I commend Skipper Tom for interpreting the weather data and choosing the safest weather window possible.  Our passage was relatively mild vs. what it could have been.  At least that’s what Tom keeps telling us.  J

Picking Our Departure Song.  We spent a fun afternoon sitting at the dock going through Tom and Rick’s music collection to pick out our “departure song.”  This is the song we would blast from the stereo as we departed from the dock, embarking on our journey.  Oddly, I don’t remember the actual song title.  But I know it was Led Zepplin.  Might have been “Dazed and Confused”… ironically.  That was probably better off being our arrival song…

That's about it for my summary of "The Before" activities.  I'm leaving out all of the time I spent off the boat, exploring the towns of Auckland and Whangarei.  Check out my other (earlier) updates about some of those adventures.  I will say both cities have great Irish Pubs and pool tables...

For now, it's on to the actual passage:  "The During".  Keep reading!

NZFJ Passage Notes: "Intro"

Our 1,200-mile journey from New Zealand to Fiji was an intense sailing adventure.  I’m grateful to Skipper Tom for inviting me along.

Sailing across an ocean is not an everyday experience.  You can’t just book the trip on Travelocity.com.  You can’t just call up a friend and say “Hey, let’s do this.” 

So I’m excited to share some details about my experience to give you a flavor of what the journey was like. 

·      What went into the preparation and planning?

·      How did the 3 of us manage sailing for 24 hours per day for 8 days straight?

·      Did we run into any storms, big seas, or other challenges?

·      What did we eat?

·      What were the high/low points?

·      What did I learn?

·      Would I do it again?

As you might have sensed from my silence these past couple of weeks, I’ve been having a hard time writing my update because there are so many layers to the experience – physical, intellectual, and emotional.  There is so much to write about that it feels overwhelming, and I keep procrastinating.  

But I need to do it.  And then move on.

So rather than try to write one long eloquent update, I’m going to compartmentalize my thoughts and post a few serial updates.  We’ll call it “The Before,” “The During,” and “The After.”

Update from Fiji

After 8 days at sea, covering 1,200 miles of open ocean in a 50-foot sailboat with two friends, we docked at Vuda Marina, Fiji (and later Port Denerau, Fiji).

The trip was amazing.  I will write a separate account of it over the next couple of weeks.

Since the passage, we have been catching up on sleep, eating normal meals, and re-hydrating…as well as a little celebrating, which leads to needing more sleep and hydration.  We have also spent the days packing up our sailing gear, cleaning up the boat, and returning it to normal “cruising mode” (vs. “passage-making mode”).

As of now, the skipper and first mate have returned home to the United States.  I am taking a few more days to explore the nearby Yasawa Islands on a local ferry service.  I bought a five-day unlimited pass to go to/from islands as I please.

Even worse than “mainland Fiji”, the internet on these islands is spotty, slow, and unreliably available, so I won’t be doing much posting online.  

I’ll be using the offline time to work on a video account of our passage, as well as a written summary of the experience.

That’s the update for now. 

Thanks again to Avalon skipper and crew for a safe, memorable passage!

Sail Away, Sail Away, Sail Away...

Tomorrow morning we depart from Marsden, New Zealand, headed north to Fiji.  The sail will be about 1,200 and, with the current wind and sea conditions, we expect the voyage to be about 10 days.  

We are provisioned with plenty of food and water (plus we have a water maker on board), and enough fuel for about 600-700 miles of motoring... so we'll need to find wind to make the 1,200 miles.

I'm excited for this, my first ocean passage.  I will take lots of photos and videos, and will keep a journal as well.  No doubt this will be an intense test of my sea legs (and sea stomach).  

My next update will be in a couple of weeks, hopefully from a warm, sunny (and dry) beach in Fiji!

The picture below is a gross exaggeration of our route to Fiji, but highlights our tactics and sailing angles.  We will sail E / NE at first to get away from New Zealand (and surrounding tough conditions) as quickly as possible.  (We expect the wind will be coming out of the N / NW.)  Then we'll turn and head N / NW, taking advantage of the SE trade winds.  We expect some light conditions mid-passage, so we'll probably be doing some motoring as well. 

View fullsize

Rough illustration of our intended route.  By no means is it even close to exact from a navigation standpoint.

From left to right:  Dan (crew), Rick (first mate), Tom (skipper), Brad (crew).

Final Preparations and Provisions

We spent this past week in Auckland, docked at Pier 21 in the Westhaven Marina, doing boat jobs and preparing for our sail to Fiji.

Boat jobs?  Yes.  Lots of them. 

Back home in San Francisco, I belong to the Olympic Circle Sailing Club, which has a fleet of over 50 boats that are always ready to sail thanks to the dedicated management and fleet service teams.   I just show up, get the keys, complete a quick inventory checklist, and go.

This trip to New Zealand has given me great insight into boat ownership – from setting up a newly purchased boat, to repairing and maintaining the boat, to preparing for an ocean passage.  I’ll write more on this topic later.  For now, I’ll just highlight a few of the boat jobs we did this week.  And these are *very* minor jobs, versus what we could have been doing...

One afternoon we spent cleaning the bilges.  A bilge is a compartment in the lowest part of the boat, below the waterline, that collects seawater and/or rainwater as it drains from other parts of the boat.  We used a hand pump and bucket, and lots of sponges and paper towels.  We were also inspecting the compartments to make sure there were not clogs or gunk that might cause a problem when underway.

Another afternoon we spent on the deck inspecting the storm jib and trisail.  These are small sturdy sails that are used in severe weather conditions.  While we don’t expect to need them on this passage, we wanted to make sure we knew how to use them – just in case.   We practiced hoisting the trisail and rigging the sheets.  

We also rigged a “preventer” for use when sailing downwind.  Attached to the end of the boom and running up to the bow and back to the cockpit, the preventer helps keep the mainsail and boom from banging around (and even more importantly prevents us from doing an accidental jibe).

There were so many other little jobs:  hoisting Rick halfway up our 60-foot mast so that he could change a light bulb, taping up vents with duct tape to prevent entry of water, organizing and securing the items in our forward compartment, installing protective seat covers, etc.

Over the last few weeks, we've had some experts come aboard to do repairs, inspection, and maintenance.   (Think mechanic, electrician, and plumber.) This week, the most significant task was getting our engine-driven water maker working.  Yes, that’s right, SV Avalon can now convert seawater into fresh drinking water at the rate of 40 gallons per hour!  Amazing!

The best part of the week was taking Avalon out for a couple of shakedown sails.  We wanted to test the different repairs, upgrades, and maintenance activities that have gone on these past few weeks.  We also just wanted to practice the operation of the sails and systems.  Even when everything is working, sailing a boat this size is a coordinated, orchestrated effort only successful with teamwork and communication.

Both shakedown sails turned out to be pretty non-eventful – which is what you want in a shakedown sail.  The engines worked, the charging worked, the sails worked.

At the end of the week – well, today actually – we headed to the grocery store to buy provisions for the boat.   We must have set a record for provisioning.  In just under 2 hours, we filled 3 giant shopping carts, paid the cashier, took a van taxi to the boat, unloaded the bags, and stowed everything on board.  

Contrary to what you might think, it is very easy to eat well (and healthy) on a boat.  I know first hand that Skipper Tom makes some great meals when cruising.  However, for this particular passage, we dumbed down the provisions quite a bit.  It’s going to be four guys, in potentially tough conditions, so we kept provisions simple – breads and spreads, soups and oatmeal, frozen pizza and vegetables, pastas and sauces, cookies and crackers. 

Now, some of us are optimistic that we will catch some fresh fish during our passage.  Skipper Tom (proud of his sleek boat) says we’ll be moving too fast for the fish.  I think there is a gentleman’s bet in the works as to whether we’ll be eating sushi one evening.

The other activity that has been going on all week is meteorological in nature:  watching and analyzing the weather (in particular the movements of high and low air pressure systems, the resulting wind strength and direction, and, in turn, resulting sea state).  I am still learning this critical bit of sailing know-how that is frequently forgotten.  But Skipper Tom has been studying the weather daily, and collecting all kinds of input from different sources – friends, weather services, locals.  We are looking for a weather window that has decent wind, in a favorable direction, but without a rough sea state. 

This week has not been all work.  After 10 days in Whangarei, it was nice to return to the ‘big’ city.  We have enjoyed a few nights out at our favorite spots – Swashbuckler's for ice cold cider, the Asian Food Market for cheap eats, Ponsonby Street for trendy cafes and bars, and The Fiddler Irish Pub for live music and a few games of pool.

That said, with the haul-out, boat jobs, shakedown sails, and provisioning done, we are ready to go!  We will leave tomorrow morning and sail north up to Marsden, stopping at Kawau Island for an overnight anchor. 

Once in Marsden, we will continue to watch the weather, waiting for a window to open -- then we will check out of New Zealand, and sail north to Fiji!  

Setting Her Free

After nearly 10 days on the hard in Whangarei, SV Avalon returned to the water on the morning of Thursday, April 21. 

It was 8:30am as Avalon rolled majestically yet agonizingly slowly through the boatyard, gently cradled in the thick canvas arms of the giant Marine Travelift crane.  Her freshly painted black bottom and polished white sides accentuated her graceful curves and sweet lines. 

Like a caged beast at the zoo, Avalon was intriguing up close and personal, out of her natural habitat; but she belonged back in the wild, running with the frothy waves of the South Pacific and breathing the fresh salty air with her three triangular lungs.

There was a universal sigh of relief as we lowered her safely into the water.  We started the engine, checked key systems, and then slowly motored away from the haul-out dock as the Marine Travelift simultaneously released Avalon from its grip.  

The beautiful beast was free!

We motored up the Hatea River, with plans to spend two nights at the Whangarei Marina in "Town Basin," a nice re-developed section of the city of Whangarei, before heading back down to Auckland.

The short cruise to the Whangarei Marina was pleasant.  It was a beautiful sunny morning.  As I have mentioned before, the city has done a nice job creating the “Hatea Loop” which is a long running path and park around both sides of the river just on the edge of town.  We have walked along the path quite a few times, and it was great to now see it from a different perspective as we slowly motored by, waving to joggers and dog-walkers.

We passed under the breathtaking drawbridge called “Te Matau a Pohe,” or “the fishhook of Pohe.”  As you might guess by the name, the drawbridge has two large arms that resemble fishhooks used by the local people, serving as a reminder of the cultural and historical connection between the river, coast, land, and native people.

We called the bridge operator and requested permission to pass under the bridge, and then waited patiently for the bridge to pivot up into the sky allowing our 70-foot tall vessel pass underneath. 

Arriving at Town Basin and the marina therein, we docked in front of the marina office, executing a difficult parallel-parking type maneuver to fit in between two giant 50-foot catamarans. 

We stayed here for the next two days, taking care of final inspections (i.e., refrigerator) and repairs (outboard engine for the dinghy). 

It was fun to be in the center of town on such a great boat.  People would walk by and take pictures or ask questions.  “Where are you from?  Where are you going?  What kind of boat is she?”

After doing boat jobs and errands during the daytime, in the evenings we continued our routine of visiting a few favorite establishments in town.  Mean’s Vietnamese Café for fantastic spring rolls and chicken fried rice.  Turkish Delight Café for tasty salad with lamb.  And McMorrissey’s for Guinness, live music, and pool.

On Saturday, after joining up with an additional crew member Rick and his girlfriend, the four of us departed for a 2-day, 90-mile sail down to Auckland.  With childlike giddiness (and with GoPro in hand), I enjoyed going under the drawbridge again.

On day 1 of our passage to Auckland, the wind cooperated nicely originating from the north/northwest.  We enjoyed a nice sail (mostly on a reach) down the coast.  We anchored in Bon Accord Harbor, off the shore of Kawau Island.  We had been running a bit late and did the anchoring in the dark, which was made even more difficult by the crowded harbor.  It was a holiday weekend, so a lot of people had decided to take their boats out and visit this anchorage, apparently.

Sunday morning, we woke up and made our way to Auckland – arriving at Pier 21 in Westhaven Marina at dusk.  We lucked out with our approach through the busy harbor.  It actually wasn’t that busy.  Again, maybe this was due to the fact that it was a holiday weekend and most boats would be returning on Monday, not Sunday.

We tied up at Pier 21 and tidied up Avalon.   We intend to stay here for the week, revisiting some maintenance issues, picking up our final crew member, going on some shakedown/practice day sails, and provisioning for the long passage north. 

At Dockland 5 Services boatyard in Whangarei, and very ready to get back into the water!

Tied up to the pontoon, waiting for the the spectacular "Te Matau a Pohe" drawbridge to open.

Motoring up the Hatea River and under the "Te Matau a Pohe" drawbridge in Whangarei, New Zealand.

Parked front-and-center at the Whangarei Marina within the Town Basin, Whangarei, New Zealand.

Sailing into Auckland Harbor at sunset.  

Docked safely at Pier 21, Westhaven Marina, Auckland, New Zealand.

Waiting in Whangarei

We arrived in Whangarei a week ago for boat maintenance.  Since then, I've helped with a few boat jobs, but I've spent most of my time volunteering for a local family and exploring the surrounding area.

As I mentioned in my previous post, after the boat was hauled out of the water at Dockland 5 Services in Whangarei, my Hosts (Clare and Aaron) picked me up and took me to their home, just a couple of kilometers away.

I stayed with Clare and Aaron for four nights in their guest unit – a fully equipped one-bedroom apartment at the rear of their property.  During the week, I helped them tidy up their garden by weeding, pruning, and raking.  (You can find their rental listing on Airbnb here.)

Upon arriving at their house, I was going to immediately get to work, but Clare and Aaron first welcomed me with a cup of coffee, and then a cold beer!

I still put in two hours of work that first day, and was then rewarded with a tasty home cooked meal of meat, potatoes, and vegetables.  It’s going to be a good week, I thought!

And it was.  I found the gardening to be very therapeutic.  I methodically weeded and pruned and raked, then hauled the clippings and leaves across the road to an empty lot.  The weather generally cooperated.  Even when it rained, it was more of a constant drizzle – nothing that my rain shell, work pants, and boots couldn’t handle.

Each day, I worked about 8:00am to 1:00pm, stopped for lunch, and then had the afternoons and evenings off.  I've included a few "before" and "after" pictures here.  While the work may not seem like much, my contribution enabled Clare and Aaron to focus on a local business they were in the process of acquiring, instead of worrying about overdue yard work.

In my downtime, I explored the small town of Whangarei (locally nicknamed “Whanga-rainy”).   It’s very industrial, with a lot of auto and marine shops and also big box retailers (comparable to Costco or The Home Depot).  

There is a “cruising community” of sailors moored in the Town Basin area, an area which caters to those sailors by providing touristy cafes, restaurants, and art galleries.  There is also more of a locals’ downtown area that is (sort of) bustling during weekday hours; but on the evenings and weekends, it’s really, REALLY quiet. I struggled Sunday evening to find a place open for dinner!

Nearly by process of elimination (because everything else was either closed or empty), I typically had the same routine in the evenings.  Dine at Mean’s Vietnamese Café or Turkish Delight Café and then venture over to the one decent pub, McMorrissey’s, for live music, a few games of pool, and a few Guinness beers.  

We were supposed to be here for just the week, however due to rain delays, we’ve now stayed through the weekend.  As of today, Monday, the boat still isn’t ready, and we may need another couple of days for the anti-fouling paint to be applied and dried.  We are leveraging the time by doing other boat jobs.   Today, for example, we lowered the dinghy to have a possible leak repaired.  Tomorrow we’ll take the dinghy's outboard motor in to be serviced to make sure it's in top working condition.  (I posted a short time-lapse video of our activities today.  You can view it here.  Most exciting part is at the 1:00 mark for the anti-fouling spray.  Unfortunately I missed the first coat application, so this second coat isn't as dramatic a color change.)

Meanwhile, my volunteering gig has ended.  My Hosts had other guests coming into town.  So I’ve resorted to the local Bella Vista Motel.  It’s convenient, but a little out of my intended budget.

I’ve emailed other possible Hosts for volunteering, but have not received any responses.  So I’ll continue to stay in the motel.  (I could stay on the boat, but it’s a little scary while it’s hoisted 7-feet out of the water and precariously balancing on its keel and side support struts.)

Without the volunteering, I find myself passing time strolling around the marina looking at all the boats and taking a few nature walks in the surrounding hills.  My favorite hike was adjacent to the Whangarei Quarry Gardens which included a historic "pa" or Maori fortification overlooking the entire river valley.

I joke about being "stuck" in Whangarei.  There just isn't a whole lot going on here.  But after a week here, I have to admit the little town has grown on me a bit. The city has done a nice job renovating the river front boardwalk, and there are plenty of parks around.  

BUT, I'm still anxious to get sailing again.  We might head south to Auckland again for a final inspection and supply run, then back up north and on to Fiji.  Wind and weather will be key factors of course.  For now, we're just taking it day by day in Whangarei... 

There are a lot of commercial spaces for lease in Whangarei.  Not sure if it's just "low season" or if the town is suffering from a more serious downtown? 

From time to time during the week, I'd visit Avalon to help with boat jobs as needed.

I explored the hills above town, hiking a trail near Whangarei Quarry Gardens.  This is the view from the historic "Pa" or Maori fortification site.  If you look closely, you can see the masts of sailboats in the marina just to the left of palm in center of picture.

Fish Out of Water

Well, more like a boat out of water. 

We arrived safely in Whangarei (WH is pronounced as “F”) after navigating a narrow channel up the Hatea River for two hours.  The channel was well marked, and the weather was mostly clear, so we lucked out.  It could have been a lot worse.  They nickname this place "Whangarainy" because of the frequent rain.  Nice.

Avalon was hauled out of the water upon arrival.  It was fascinating to help and watch the process… moving the boat under the crane, positioning the huge canvas straps at the lifting points, and then feeling the boat rise out of the water.  We only stayed on until the boat was a foot or two out of the water, to make sure everything was stable and secure.  Then we climbed off and they hoisted the boat another 6 feet into the air, so that the heavy keel and huge rudder would clear the dock.

After giving the hull a power wash, the service guys gingerly maneuvered the crane and boat down the shipyard lot, to our “parking spot.”  They gently lowered the boat onto stabilizers to keep it propped upright. 

The boat will be here for about a week, undergoing some inspections, repairs, and general maintenance.  Nothing unusual for a sailing vessel, especially after a long storage period, and/or before a major passage.

I made a video that highlights our emergence from the water and onto the dry land.  Check it out in the “Video” section.  Here's a link.

We’ll be back in the water in about a week.  Then we’ll sail back to Auckland for final preparation and provisioning before waiting for the weather window for sailing up to Fiji.

True to DBT form, I have lined up some non-sailing volunteer work for this week, while Avalon is getter her TLC. 

My hosts picked me up at the boatyard and took me to their home which was less than 2 miles away.   They have a very nice in-law unit that I will stay in while I help them by cleaning up their garden after the healthy summer growth.

More on that in my next post…

Refueling at Marsden Cove Marina before heading up river to Whangarei.

Hauled out of the water by a huge crane thing.

Getting a bath.

Heading down the boatyard to our "parking spot."

First Passage

We have completed a short passage -- and my first sail aboard Avalon -- from Auckland to Marsden Cove Marina, about 80 miles north.

Here, we will wait until Monday morning, and then motor up the Hatea River to Whangarei where we have an appointment to have the boat hauled out of the water for inspection and maintenance. 

We arrived early in part because we left early.  A weather front was moving in and we expected wet weather on the weekend.  We wanted to sail (and arrive) ahead of that front, so we left mid-week.

We also wanted to allow ample time for this passage.  Sailing (or motoring) at 7 knots per hour, we could have made the passage in one day.  However, this was Avalon’s first time out beyond the breakwaters of Auckland in over three months, so we knew there might be some complications as Avalon stretched her sea legs.

After all, a sailboat this size is a sophisticated piece of equipment, requiring the skipper (and crew) to not just be a sailor and navigator, but also a mechanic, an electrician, a plumber, and, nowadays, a computer scientist.   (The amount of communication and navigation equipment on board is astounding – redundant systems via both fixed and mobile devices, all interconnected via on-board WIFI.)

As expected, we encountered a few issues on this voyage relating to a faulty transmission cable and poor quality fuel (probably due to non-use over the months).  We also ran out of propane – which was human error on our part – but I learned that having a microwave onboard is good backup for warm food and beverages!

During our passage, the weather was favorable (sunny or partly cloudy), the sea state was smooth (1-2 foot swells), and the wind was good (10-20 knots).  But, the wind direction was unfavorable.  The wind was coming out of the northwest, which was precisely the direction we wanted to go.  (Remember, with sailing, you have to sail at an angle to wind, not straight into it.)  We motor-sailed quite a bit, allowing us to tighten our angle and head more up-wind.  Occasionally, with brief shifts in wind direction, we were able to unfurl our headsails one at a time and test them out. 

We anchored one night in Bon Accord Harbor on Kawau Island.  The anchor drop was hampered by engine failure (due to the fuel issue noted above), so we were not confident the anchor had properly set.  We set multiple anchor alarms on our GPS devices, but still implemented an anchor-watch that night.  I took the first shift, then Tom and Di generously traded off the late-night shifts without waking me.  In the end, we didn't budge; our 60-pound anchor (and 100 feet of chain) held us in one place, though we did swing around with shifts in tidal current and wind.

It was a beautiful, calm night, with stars filling the clear dark skies, serenaded by birds and other wildlife in the island forest.

The next day, we continued heading north.  A dolphin joined us for a while, playing in our bow wake.  

The approach into Marsden Cove Marina was tricky, with a tight channel, shallow depths, uncertain slip location, and inclement weather.  We followed a catamaran and tug/tow into the channel, and carefully maneuvered into the marina.  We scoped out our slip, rigged our dock lines, and landed gently alongside.

After tidying up the boat, stowing the sails and lines, and hitting the hot showers, we devoured dinner at the marina’s Land and Sea Café and called it a night.

We will wait here through the weekend, and depart Monday up-river to the boatyard in Whangarei.  I may post some details about my weekend activities, but the highlight was walking over 8 kilometers in the dark, along the interstate highway, to the nearest restaurant/bar (other than the overpriced marina cafe) located in neighboring Ruakaka.  The bartender was so impressed she offered me a free beer upon arrival.  Of course I accepted :-)

Filling the fresh water tanks at Pier 21 in Auckland.

Leaving Auckland in our wake.

Passing by volcanic Rangitoto Island.  We considered anchoring here for the night, but decided to continue heading north to stay ahead of the weather approaching from the south.

Sails up!

We anchored for the night in Bon Accord Harbor on Kawau Island.  I took this picture from our stern at sunrise.

Approaching the mouth of the Hatea River - we will head up river to Marsden, and eventually Whangarei.

View from the stern as we navigate the narrow channel toward Marsden Cove Marina.  Look how close the shoreline is!

Docked safely at Marsden Cove Marina.

Goodbye Auckland!

I am leaving Auckland, New Zealand today on 50-foot SV Avalon, headed east to Waiheke Island and then north to Whangarei, where we hope to arrive by Saturday.  This will be my first shakedown sail with the beautiful Deerfoot-designed, cutter-rigged sailing vessel Avalon.

We will have the boat hauled out of the water in Whangarei next week for inspections and maintenance. 

Then we will have another week of preparation before the 1,200-mile passage to Fiji.  We will do more shakedown sails, pick up our remaining crew, and provision the boat with food, water, and fuel.

In late April, we begin watching for a weather window that will allow us safe passage north to Fiji.  The skipper, who has made this passage before, says the first 400 miles can be pretty rough, with big seas and wind. 

I'm excited because the conditions will test me, giving me another data point as to whether I'm cut out to be an ocean-going sailor.

The weather conditions and sea state are not the only tests. Essentially, I will be sharing a floating one-bedroom apartment with four guys in the middle of the ocean for 8-10 days.  So the passage will be a psychological and behavioral test as well as physical test.

I can't wait!  Let the adventure begin! 

We have WIFI on board but it's reserved for specific navigational and safety purposes... Updating Facebook is not one of them. 

I'll respond to emails and update DBT.com again once we have the boat out of the water in Whangarei next week.   

True to DBT purpose, I have lined up a family to stay with in Whangarei.  I will help them in their garden, harvesting and clearing the summer growth.  

Just like in the old corporate days, I like to work hard, stay busy, and keep active.  But these activities I'm doing now are just so much more fun for me....

Goodbye Auckland!  See you upon my return from Fiji!

Afternoon showers yielded a beautiful rainbow over the central business district of Auckland.

SV Avalon on the morning of departure, needing a couple of hours of set-up before we set sail.

DBT on the morning of departure, needed a couple of coffees before we set-sail.

No April Fools

I'm pleased to share my story with the readership of Business Insider.  I certainly appreciate that I am in a relatively unique situation, but I hope my story inspires people to pursue their passions, even if on a smaller, less drastic scale than I have chosen.

Published on April 1, the article might seem like a good "April Fools" joke.  But it's not.  It's the real deal.

Click here to read the article. 

Auckland. Avalon. Awesome.

I arrived in Auckland on Sunday, March 27, and the city is already exceeding my expectations.

My hotel is The Sebel Auckland at Viaduct Harbor.  It’s less than a block from the marina, where lots of beautiful boats await their next adventure… including the beautiful 50-foot “Avalon” which is the sailboat we’ll be taking up to Fiji at the end of April.

My hotel room is a suite, with full kitchen and washer/dryer.  Unfortunately I have a view of a parking structure, not the marina. But hey, for $80/night, I’ll take it.  This is way beyond my daily budget, but given that so many of the upcoming days will include free accommodation on Avalon, I figure my average cost per night will come down dramatically.

So I’ll stay here at The Sebel for 4 nights, and then I’ll move to the sailboat and ready myself for the departure north.

I met with Avalon’s skipper (and my former sailing instructor-now-friend), Tom Prior, for lunch on Sunday.  After lunch he took me down to meet Avalon for the first time.  She’s a beauty.  Sleek lines, clean deck, secure cockpit, and spacious cabin.  Many traditional blue-water cruising sailboats are slow, heavy beasts built like a fortress able to withstand the pounding of waves and wind. From what I understand from Tom, Avalon is at the lighter, faster end of the spectrum.  Still strong and sturdy, but much better, faster sailing performance.  We may not be able to outrun a storm, but we can sail with the storm until it subsides.  (Of course, with modern technology and careful forethought in route planning, we hope to avoid storms in the first place.)

Over the last couple of days, I’ve gone down to the boat to help Tom settle in and get the boat clean and ready.  This will continue for several days, in fact weeks.  We’ll bring the boat to northern New Zealand in a few days, where she’ll get hauled out of the water for some inspections and hull treatment.  Then we’ll plan our route, provision the boat, do several shakedown sails, and wait for the weather window to make our passage north, 1,200 miles to Fiji. 

In my downtime, I’ve explored a few of the streets, restaurants, and parks in Auckland.  What a great town!  Streets are clean, people are nice, and food is excellent.   Transportation from the airport by bus was very easy, thanks to the driver who was probably the most friendly, helpful bus driver I’ve ever spoken too.  People on the docks have been very nice, too, already offering tips for our sail north.

I have a couple of friends of friends here that I plan to meet, so I’m looking forward to experiencing a bit more of the local side of Auckland, too.

I’m not immediately rushing out to conquer all the sights and towns of the northern, let alone the southern, island of New Zealand.  I’m in the area for two months, and more importantly, I already know I will be making another trip here in the future…

Emerging from The Sebel hotel, right into the marina.

I've enjoyed walking around the marina, looking at all the big boats, and watching vessel operations such as this.

Sailing vessel "Avalon."  A 50-foot Deerfoot that we'll sail 1,200 north to Fiji. 

And So It Begins (Again)...

One year.  Well, actually, 372 days.  That’s how long I have, at a minimum, before I am back in my house.  It sounds crazy, doesn’t it?

My first stop is New Zealand, where I will hang out for a month preparing for a 1,200 sailing passage to Fiji with my former sailing instructor.  It will be my first yacht delivery, and first real blue water experience..  It will be a true test as to whether I can turn my sailing passion into a sailing career.

Packing up my house (and my bags) over the last couple of days was a mad dash.   I was constantly running out to REI, West Marine, Best Buy, and Walgreens for last minute items I might need on my trip.  I’m sure I’ve forgotten something, but the good news I’m going to Auckland, not a village on a remote island.  I can buy whatever I forgot, especially if it’s sailing or outdoor gear.

I pride myself on being very clean and organized.  At the beginning, there was logic to what belongings were going into my garage, my backyard shed, or my storage unit.  And within each of those spaces, where exactly would the item go?  How would it be wrapped?  Well, in the last few hours this afternoon, I was just cramming stuff anywhere it would fit.   It was messy, but it’s done.

I did a final walkthrough video of my house.  A few big pieces of furniture remain – too big for my storage options.  But all personal effects are gone.  It was kind of sad to walk through the empty rooms and hallways.  I had spent so much time making the house comfortable (for me), in particular hanging lots of pictures of my travels. 

And then came the final moment of walking out and locking the door behind me.  It was a weird feeling.  Previously, I was renting my house to a friend, and only for 6 months.  It felt more like he was housesitting for me, or just living as a guest.   It didn’t seem as real as this time.   Now it’s the real deal.  I’m renting to a stranger (but he and his family are super nice), and it’s for a year with an option to go month-to-month after that.

So, this is it.  I’m a homeless wanderer with a blank slate, looking forward to an exciting and adventurous year!  Now, I have to go catch my flight!  

Stay tuned!   

Rugs rolled up...

Cars covered...

Storage unit filled and locked.  But it gets me thinking... If I don't need all this stuff for a year, will I *ever* need it??

Leaving my house for a year!

Writing my first update from the Air New Zealand business lounge at SFO.

Enjoying a glass of bubbly before takeoff.

The Countdown

The countdown has begun.  

I leave for New Zealand in 2 days. 

I will be homeless and jobless for another year.

What an exciting, liberating, and yet intimidating thought.

Time to get packing…

Anchors Aweigh!

Many of you have asked me, "What's next?"  Well, having just selected the people who will rent my house for the next year, I'm ready to announce my plans.  I will take another year off work to focus on sailing -- acquiring sea miles and building my sailing network.  

So far, I have booked two big sailing adventures for 2016:

First, I will be joining two of my sailing instructors on a 1,200-mile sailing passage from New Zealand to Fiji.  I fly to New Zealand in late March, and will spend a few weeks on preparation and practice.  The actual passage will be sometime in late April or early May, depending on favorable weather and sea conditions.  Obviously, we want to avoid storms like the devastating Winston cyclone. 

This will be my first major ocean voyage, so I am very excited.  It will be a thrilling 10 or 12 days, but more importantly, it will provide me with that “first job experience" that is so critical in starting a new career.  To be hired as skipper or crew on a yacht, you need sea miles.  But to get sea miles, you need to be skipper or crew.  It’s a chicken-and-egg dilemma.  For that reason, I’m incredibly grateful to my skipper for trusting me and inviting me on this passage.  I hope this experience will have a snowball effect and lead to even more opportunities as my sea miles increase.

Second, in September I will head to Croatia where I have chartered a 42-foot sailboat.  I will skipper this boat, as part of a larger 12- or 15-boat “flotilla” from the Olympic Circle Sailing Club.  For two weeks, we will make our way from Split to Dubrovnik, cruising around the various islands in the Adriatic Sea, stopping at marinas or coves to explore small towns, beaches, and the countryside.

In between these two big trips, I hope to find other sailing opportunities so that I can continue to build my experience and sea miles.  I am currently in discussions with a few skippers in the Caribbean, Mediterranean, and Andaman Seas.  Unfortunately due to timing, I had to turn down an offer to sail from San Francisco to Seattle in March.  Regardless, these discussions give me confidence, and in fact prove, that skippers are starting to notice me. 

In the meantime, I'm doing a lot of work behind the scenes.  Sailing is complicated.  There is a lot that goes into it, and a lot to prepare for.  Sailing is physical, so I have been developing a more aggressive workout routine.  Sailing is intellectual, so I have been studying navigation and chart-plotting.  Sailing is environmental, so I have been learning about weather fronts, air pressure, and wind patterns.  Sailing is expensive, so I have been buying lots of stuff which will keep me safe, warm, and dry.  :-)   

Lastly, like any good sailor, I have a Plan B – volunteering.  I am still monitoring www.helpx.net for interesting opportunities to volunteer in exchange for accommodations.  Right now, I'm talking to my friends in Chile about returning there in December or January.  That would be awesome.

I am excited for what the future holds, even though I can’t quite see it clearly yet.  I am charting a new course, and couldn’t be happier.  

---

To prepare for a year of sailing, I have been doing a lot of studying:  navigation, chart-plotting, weather patterns, knots, etc.

We will be sailing at night, so I have also been studying light configurations for all kinds of vessels:

I've made a few purchases with safety in mind.  Durable, warm, sticky-soled sailing boots to keep me on board, and a personal locator beacon with satellite link just in case those fancy boots don't work.

And, Tom P., in case you're reading this, I've been practicing cooking hard-boiled eggs....  :-)

Home Sweet Home

After 6 months of living out of a backpack and the back of my car, I walked into my house on February 29 - the evening before my birthday - and plopped down on my couch.  Ahhhh, I missed this place!  

Even though most of my belongings were in storage, there was just enough to make me feel at home - my travel photos on the wall, my houseplants in the kitchen, and my couch and TV in the living room.  

For a few minutes I just sat on the couch, listened to the silence, and enjoyed a few deep breaths.  It has been a whirlwind of six months:  from Chile to Germany to Thailand.  I have met so many people, and have helped so many people.  I have overcome fears and challenges, and have proved I can forge a new life for myself however unique and untraditional it may be.

I’ve already made commitments for two exciting adventures in 2016, which I will share in my next post.  The excitement I feel about the future overrides the comfort and coziness I feel about being home.  

However, for now, I’m focused on continuing my healing – which will be easier now that I am home and can set up a routine for eating and exercise.  I am seeing a physical therapist for my knee injury, which is getting better every.  I am tracking my nutrition and caloric intake in order to gradually regain the 10 pounds I lost in Thailand.

And while I’m fixing myself, Nikon has fixed my DSLR camera.

Stay tuned for my 2016 plans...

My comfy place.

Home sweet home.

House-Sitting, Not Jet-Setting

Homeless until March 1, I've been staying at friends' houses for the month of February, including a house-sitting stint which gave me some much-needed quiet time to recuperate and reflect.

For a guy living a life of leisure, I’ve been pretty stressed out these last couple of weeks – preoccupied by healing my knee, re-renting my house, fixing my camera, and filing my income taxes – all while trying to figure out where to sleep and shower each night.  In addition, a couple of companies have approached me with interesting “real job” opportunities, which makes me second-guess my decision to pursue my passion vs. return to the rat race.

But, I’m keeping a long-term perspective on things.  I constantly remind myself that I’m not taking a vacation to be happy for a year, but rather I’m blazing a new trail to be happy for the rest of my life.  To paraphrase a colleague of mine, I’m not building a path to earn a million dollars, but a path to feel like a million dollars.

As I mentioned in my last post, that new path is sailing.  I don’t yet know where it will lead but I know it’s the path I want to explore. 

The year 2015 was a year of organization and transition, to prepare myself for a new lifestyle:  getting my banking and bill-paying online; converting my house into a rental property; building a financial plan; finishing critical sailing certifications; and setting up a website to share my experience.  By late 2015, as you’ve read, I tested the waters at this low-budget, highly-mobile lifestyle – grounded in the principle that by volunteering and/or sailing, I can significantly reduce my day-to-day living expenses, while also helping others accomplish their goals of providing for their family, running a small business, sailing from Point A to Point B, etc.  It wasn’t an easy year, and it certainly wasn't as glamorous as it sounds, but it proved the concept.

Now, in 2016, it’s all about sailing – getting on-the-water experience, building my social network within the sailing community, and earning further certifications as required.  I’m still very interested in general volunteering as well, but sailing will be the priority.

I'm thankful to my friends who have opened their homes to me this month. I'm looking forward to a couple of weeks in my own house, as I prepare mentally and physically for another year on the road.  Er, water.  

Anchor's aweigh!

Rough Return

I’ve been back in the San Francisco Bay area for a few days now, but I have to admit, I still feel like a mess.

My right knee is bruised, swollen, and really hurting me, thanks to a motorbike accident on my last weekend in Thailand.  (See video I posted. Yes, Mom and Dad, I'm ok.) 

Ko Jum has one main paved road running north and south, but a dirt road skirts around to the west along the beaches and cliffs.  The dirt road is tough to navigate by scooter.  In two months, I had tried twice and turned around twice because of ruts, rocks, and mud.

On my last weekend, during my final ‘goodbye’ ride around the island, I decided to try the dirt road a third time.  I was determined to make it all the way.  About halfway through the trip (the uphill part), I noticed the rear brake on the motorbike was not working. That left me only the front brake to get down the hill.  Any motorcycle rider or bicyclist will know the danger in this. I took the downhill really slow.  Inevitably, the front wheel slipped out from under me, and down I went.  I banged my knee on the engine (or maybe a rock?). The next day, with pain, swelling, and stiffness, I visited the island hospital, where the nurse barely even looked at my knee.  She had just stitched up some other tourists who had had a much worse accident than I.  She gave me some ibuprofen and elastic wrap. (I have since visited my doctor at Stanford who confirmed that it is nothing serious just a severe bruise.)

In addition to my sore knee, the transition home has not been kind to me.  I've caught a cold, probably due to the severe change in climate (from 90 degrees in Thailand to 50 degrees in San Francisco); and I'm suffering from more jet lag than usual.  I guess my body and biological clock had really adjusted to Thailand time over the three months.  Since being home in San Francisco, I’ve been falling asleep at 9pm and waking up at 3am.

I've also lost about 10 pounds of weight that I didn't need to lose in the first place.  (However, if any of you need to diet, I highly recommend small, poor island living.)   The simple ratio of calorie intake vs. calorie expenditure was out of whack during my stay, kind of like those survival reality TV shows... Survivor, Naked and Afraid, etc.  I did shave and shower though.

I know all of these physical conditions will improve with time, so I’m not too worried.  I did go sailing the other day, which probably wasn’t the right thing to do to get well… But we always eat well on the boat, so hopefully it helped me in terms of calorie count.

On top of the physical adjustments going on, I’m also experiencing a bit of culture shock. Coming back to Silicon Valley, USA, after living on a rural island for three months, is quite a change. 

First, I have to agree with what my friend Melanie described when she visited the United States after an extended time in Costa Rica. The variety of choices we have here is overwhelming if you aren’t used to it.  Grocery aisles seem endless.  Houses seem huge.  Cars seem countless. And everyone seems to be in a hurry. 

Second, I have become accustomed to lightweight and simple living.  Not quite minimalist, but close.  My travel gear fit into a 46-liter backpack and 20-liter daypack, although the latter was mainly my DSLR camera, lenses, and computer.   I’ve come back to a 10 foot x 20 foot storage unit full of my “stuff.” Why am I keeping my college intramural champion t-shirt?  Why am I saving my class work and textbooks? Why do I have two snowboards and four pairs of rollerblades?  Why do I own 12 pairs of jeans?  While I am not ready to sell everything I own, I am ready to downsize and simplify.

Third, it's hard being here in Silicon Valley jobless and homeless.  I'm reminded constantly how expensive this part of the country is.  I've been tracking my spending habits before traveling, while traveling, and now after traveling.  As you might expect,  the difference is dramatic. Fortunately I know an excellent financial planner (i.e., me), and I have a budget I manage to.  (For anyone thinking of doing what I'm doing, I urge you to have your own financial plan and budget.) Thankfully, I have great friends who are sharing their homes with me, which helps me contain my costs tremendously while I'm back in town.  Regardless, I can't wait to get back on the road...

And that brings me to the question a lot of people have asked me. "What next?"  

I'm not ready to divulge any specifics yet.  But here's an obvious hint:

I remember my last day on Ko Jum.  I was sitting in the Tiki Hut just off the beach, with a strong, warm breeze blowing from behind me.  Maybe the strongest wind we'd had during my visit.  I sat there, staring out across the sand and sea, wondering myself what in the world I was going to do next.  Jobless and homeless, I felt like I could do anything.  And yet I also felt a tinge of fear.  Maybe I should just go back to a "normal life."  At that moment, a sailboat appeared on the horizon.  I watched in fascination as it made its way across the horizon, past Ko Phi Phi, down toward Ko Lanta, almost racing against the setting sun. I knew what I was missing, and where I wanted to be.  

Stay tuned for 2016!  The adventure continues... 

Leaving Ko Jum

I can’t believe the time has come for me to leave Ko Jum.  While I’m sad to leave, I’m happy that I stumbled upon this island in the first place.  It was an incredible three months.

Thanks to my host Ben, and the extended family who helps manage Uza Beach Residence.  Thanks to all the other Helpers who joined me at some point along this journey, as well as the guests and tourists whom I met along the way.  Thanks to www.helpx.net for providing the vehicle by which this all took place.

Most of all, thanks to the people of Ko Jum who welcomed me to their island community. 

I will most certainly be back to visit my new friends on the island, as well as see how things progress at the new-and-improved Uza Beach Residence.

The long journey home to San Francisco will give me some time to reflect on my Ko Jum experience.  Maybe I’ll post those reflections, or maybe I’ll keep them to myself.  Regardless, I’ve put together another video that presents many highlights of the island, and in particular my favorite places.  Check it out here.

Combined with my videos from Uza Beach Residence, from motor-biking, and from boating, this final “Secrets of Ko Jum” video should give you a sense of my last three months.   Look for all of these videos on the Videos/Compilations page on this site, or you can find them on YouTube (@dannyboytravels channel).

My stay on Ko Jum is over, but the DBT adventure continues.  I already have several options for future destinations and activities.  So stay tuned!

I spent part of my last day in the Tiki Hut just gazing out into the Andaman Sea.  There was a decent wind and I noticed a sailboat gliding along the horizon.  I captured the moment in my head and said (and perhaps committed to myself), "I want to be THAT guy." 

Right now, California here I come….

I nailed a "San Francisco" sign on the signpost on Coral Bay, at the north end of the island.

My last sunset on Koh Jum didn't disappoint me.  Beautiful as always.

Basking in the sunset glow at my local beach bar.

I sat in the Tiki Hut on Uza Beach for an hour just soaking in the view and reflecting on my experience over the last 3 months.

We made some great enhancements to the property, but the beach says it all...