Walking the Walls

This week I explored the towns of Dubrovnik, Kotor, and Ston, and hiked along their respective walls and fortresses.  Magnificent views, amazing history, and good old exercise!  It was a great week, other than the rain.  Here's the update: 

I spent the first few days of this week relaxing in Dubrovnik, reacquainting myself with life on land.  I rented a large top-floor apartment.  I washed all my clothes and hung them to dry on the sunny terrace.  I took a few afternoon naps. 

My crew and I enjoyed a final pizza dinner and said our goodbyes. 

Before continuing her own vacation, first mate Amanda joined me for a walk along the walls of Old Town.  Unfortunately, it was cloudy and rainy that day.  (This will become a theme over the next few journal entries, I’m afraid.)

We managed to finish the 2km walk and duck into a bar just before the heavy rain came.  But it was like a scene from the movies.   We sat down at a table with our drinks, but then could still feel the rain.  We looked at each other, and then looked up at the roof:  it was made of thinly spaced bamboo slats.  Not much good against the rain.  We toughed it out for a few minutes, but eventually downed our drinks and left.  

By Wednesday, my crew and the other members of the 10-boat flotilla from San Francisco had left, and I was on my own again.  I really liked Dubrovnik, but even this late in the season there were just so many tourists!  I decided to move on.

I checked out of my apartment and hopped on a bus to Kotor, Montenegro, which was about two hours south.  I had heard great things about Montenegro; and I was not disappointed at all. 

I arrived in Kotor in the pouring rain, and wandered around the streets looking for the hotel I had booked.  Hippocampus Hotel.  With the help of a few waiters along the way, I found it. 

That afternoon the rain stopped and I hiked up to St. John’s castle located on the hills behind Old Town Kotor.  The hike included many steps along the fortification walls.  The views were magnificent.   Needless to say, I slept well that night.

On Thursday, I planned to ascend the historic “Ladder of Cattaro (Kotor)”.  This is a 940-meter ascent up an old military road and supply line, connecting Kotor with Cetinje.   The old road includes over 70 switchbacks and is supposed to take four hours each way.  Unfortunately, the “7% chance of rain” turned into “rain all day”.  After three and a half hours, I was drenched, the trail was slippery, and the situation became too dangerous. Without a trail map, a hiking partner, proper boots, or cell phone coverage, I knew that any misstep on the wet rocks and mud could be serious.  Reluctantly, I turned around.

On Friday morning, the rain continued.  I braved the walk to the bus station, lugging my three bags with me.  Drenched, I boarded the bus back to Dubrovnik.  In Dubrovnik, I would have a tight connection to make my bus to the little town of Ston, so when we were delayed at the Croatia / Montenegro border, I began to get nervous. 

With each trip across the border there were two inspection points – one by Croatian police and then one by Montenegro police a few hundred meters down the road.   Coming south, the process didn’t take too long.  Croatian police came on the bus to visually check all passports, collecting a few for computerized scanning in the office.  Then the Montenegro police came on and collected ALL passports for scanning in their office. 

Coming north, the process took a lot longer.   First, the Croatian inspection was a lot stricter.  They made everyone actually get off the bus and go to the office for passport scanning.  On the Montenegro side, it was actually faster – the police came on the bus with a handheld scanner.  As soon as passengers start getting off and on the bus, delays happen – for bathroom and smoking breaks, in particular.  Second, there were two tour buses ahead of us that had to go through the same process.   I credit this to the fact that it was Friday afternoon so there were probably a lot of tourists going to Dubrovnik for the weekend. 

Anyway, after over an hour delay at the border, we made it to Dubrovnik.  With minutes to spare, I boarded my local bus to Ston. 

The small town of Ston, and its even smaller sister town Mali Ston (literally “little Ston”), was famous for a few things:  the second longest fortification wall behind the Great Wall of China, the oldest salt works in Europe (dating back to ancient Roman times), and the best oysters and mussels in Croatia!

The bus dropped me in the center of town.  Yet again it was pouring rain so I ducked into a café for a coffee and WIFI so that I could pull up exact directions to my apartment.  I was in luck – the apartment was only a few blocks away.

Marija, the landlord’s daughter, checked me in and showed me around. The apartment was across the road from the walls, and the balcony offered me a nice view of the town, salt works, walls, and towers.

I hiked the part of the walls on Friday afternoon, but Saturday was the main event.  I walked on the walls over to Mali Ston, where I explored the town (took about 30 minutes) and had a fabulous lunch of wine, oysters, and salad.

After returning along the walls to Ston, I wandered over to the salt works for a tour of that facility.  It is the oldest salt operation in Europe, dating back to Roman times.  You can read about it here:  http://www.solanaston.hr/en/the-history

I don’t know much about salt, or the making of salt, but this facility was pretty interesting, especially thinking about how long it’s been running. 

Both nights in Ston I enjoyed fresh seafood dinners at Konoba Bakus.  The first night was mussels.  The second night was sea bass.  

On Sunday, I continued my route north by bus.  I stopped in Trogir briefly to see Ivan at Palace Central Apartments.  He had agreed to keep my sail bag for me, so I could continue exploring the country with a lighter load.  I would return and stay at the apartments for my final week in Croatia.

After a 20-minute re-packing effort, and a 5-minute ice cream, I was back on a bus headed to Sibenik, where I would explore two national parks, Krka and Kornati.  However, the weather forecast doesn’t look great – a lot of rain – so I may have to adjust my plans.  

Stay tuned!

Assessing how difficult it would be to scale the wall in Ston.

The red roofs of Dubrovnik.  Lighter colored tiles are replacements for bombing damage in the 1990's.

Walking the walls in Dubrovnik.

Outer walls of Dubrovnik at sunset.

Hiking up the Ladder of Cattaro (Kotor), looking back down on St. John's Castle and the famous wall along the hills.

A wet hike up the Ladder of Cattaro (Kotor).  So wet - and more importantly, dangerous alone - I decided to turn around after three and a half hours.  Not quite to the top.  Darn.

Walking the walls from Ston to Mali Ston.  

The walls in Ston.

Having fun on the walls.

Walls of Ston at sunset, as viewed from outside the walls below.

The salt works and salt factory.

View from the walls above Ston, looking down at Old Town and the salt works in the distance.  (You can see the sectioned squares of salt water.  These date back to Roman times and many that saw were lined with limestone blocks like a swimming pool or something.  Amazing given the size of these pools.)

Sailing Croatia (Week 2)

Picking up from last week’s update… We had just arrived in Korcula, on Sunday, September 25, passing the halfway point of our two-week charter.

Korcula (Day 8 and Day 9).  We stayed for two nights at the marina in Old Town Korcula.  Set on a small, hilly peninsula and surrounded by a great wall, the Old Town was very scenic.  In a funny way, the hilly streets reminded me of San Francisco.  The promenade hosted several nice outdoor restaurants, but the wind forced us to retreat to different restaurants tucked away in the narrow streets.  The highlight of the two days was sipping cocktails at sunset at a bar atop one of the stone towers.

Korcula to Pomena (Day 10 and Day 11).  On Tuesday, September 27, we sailed around the eastern end of the island of Korcula, and down to Pomena, a harbor on the west end of the island of Mljet. 

Getting out of Korcula, though, took us some time.  We faced two challenges.

First, we had to get out of the very narrow marina! The wind had kicked up to 10 knots making big boat maneuvering more difficult.   We were in a stern-to mooring, tucked in between boats on our port and starboard sides, with the wind blowing from behind us.  There was a line of boats facing us, stern-to against the other side of the fairway, with not much more than one boat length of water between us.  We had to somehow release our lines, drive out of our mooring, and make a tight left turn toward the exit…before the wind pushed us into the boats opposite us.  And our turn couldn’t be so tight that our stern would swing around and scrape the boat on our starboard side.

I watched a few boats leave before me, trying to observe the skippers’ techniques and the wind’s impact on the vessels.  I also talked through my departure plan with a few skippers to get their feedback.  We ended up using a bow spring line from our bow to the bow of the boat on our port side.  With the wind behind us, we gently motored out of our stern-to mooring, and eased out the spring line.  When our stern was clear of the vessel on starboard, we sprung our boat around to port.  The technique worked well.  The spring line helped us make the tight turn without giving way downwind and drifting into the boats lining the opposite side of the fairway.   I have to credit OCSC for teaching me the skills to safely depart under these tough conditions.

The second challenge we faced was fuel.  Our fuel gauge was not working.  It still read “7/8 full” – but that was virtually impossible given the motoring we had been doing in the light wind conditions earlier in the week.  We didn’t know our exact gallon-per-hour burn rate, but using a conservative burn rate and knowing our engine hours, I calculated that we were less than half full.  Since we didn’t want to ever go below one quarter full, that left us with a quarter tank to go the next 100 miles.  But we had to account for marina time, plus any other extra motoring time we might need for anchoring, sightseeing, etc.  Long story short, we stopped for gas.  The fuel dock was just around the corner from the marina at Korcula, so we stopped briefly and put in 60 liters of diesel.   Better to be safe than sorry.

So we finally set course for Pomena, on the island of Mljet.  We tried to sail for a while, but the wind had died down, so we turned the engine on and motored – feeling very confident that now we had plenty of fuel. 

Pomena provided a nice sheltered bay with a number of restaurants lining the shore.  The restaurants offer stern-to mooring spots for free, as long as you eat in the restaurant.  We spotted one of the other boats in our flotilla already docked, so we pulled up alongside them and moored, hoping the restaurant they had picked was a good one since we would be here for two nights.

Why two nights?  The attraction of Pomena is that it sits within walking distance to the National Park Mljet.  The park has two lakes, one of which has an island with a monastery and church that you can visit via boat.

The first afternoon, our crew split up and pursued individual activities.  I relaxed along the water at a café, and took a short hike up to the first of the two lakes.  We reconvened for dinner at the restaurant where we had docked our boat.  Unfortunately, the food wasn’t that good.  But it was fun to be reunited with a few of the other flotilla boats.  And certainly it was convenient to eat dinner and then walk 10 steps to our boat for sleep.

The second day, my first mate Amanda and I walked up to the second lake and took the small boat across to the island with the monastery and church.  It was very scenic.  After so many days on the sailboat, it was nice to have a day doing some real walking.  The only bummer was that we had to eat at the same mediocre restaurant by our boat again.

After dinner, a few of us went exploring because we had heard the hotel at the end of the bay often has live music.  Well, not tonight, apparently.  But we did find several small cruise ships tied up next to each other in front of the hotel.  Music, lights, and laughter spilled out of the boats.  We snuck aboard and hopped from vessel to vessel wandering through the parties pretending like we belonged. 

Pomena to Slano (Day 12).  On Thursday, September 29, we departed Pomena, and sailed east along the northern coast of Mljet.  We headed toward mainland Croatia, to a small bay we had found called Slano.  Here, a brand new ACI Marina had just opened this year.  

Unfortunately, one of our crew members did not join us for this sail.  His flight back to the United States was early Saturday morning, and he was anxious to have at least one full day in Dubrovnik.  Our current sail plan (arriving Friday night) wouldn’t allow that.  So he made the tough decision to take a ferry directly from Pomena to Dubrovnik.

We were a crew of four.  Now we were down to three.  

Arriving in Slano, our intention was to dock in the ACI Marina.  However, again, we saw another boat from our flotilla at the vacant town quay.  So we changed plans and moored next to them.  We still snuck into the Marina to use the facilities, but the town quay gave us a better view and better access to restaurants.

That afternoon, Amanda and I launched the dinghy – with the outboard motor – and explored the small bay.  We pulled up to a fancy resort, secured the dinghy, and headed to the beach bar for a beer.  Apparently, it was some kind of all-inclusive, private resort so they gave us a funny look when we held out cash for our beers.  They said, “Oh, you aren’t staying here…”  They still sold us the beer and let us hang out on the lounge chairs, perhaps impressed that we arrived by sea, not by land.

We explored the town that evening – what there was of it.  Apparently Slano was a famous resort town many years ago, but then was destroyed in the war in the 1990s.  Now it is trying to make a comeback – perhaps that’s why ACI built the new marina there.   It’s pretty quiet. 

We didn’t pick Slano for its scenery or history or nightlife, though.  We picked it for its location – only 16 miles from Dubrovnik.  We could have a short sail down to Dubrovnik the following day to check out the harbor in Old Town, and still have plenty of time to motor up river to the Sunsail dock at the Dubrovnik Marina.

Slano to Dubrovnik (Day 13).  This was our final day of the passage.  We departed Slano mid-morning and basically motored the entire 16 miles down to Old Town Dubrovnik.  We hovered around the walls and harbor entrance, taking lots of photos and videos.  What a stunning sight.

Satisfied that we had appropriately captured the moment, we then turned around and headed back up the coast a bit.  We followed an inlet, passed under the Franjo Tudjman bridge, and arrived at the Dubrovnik Marina.   There, we were greeted by the Sunsail staff who helped us with the final stern-to docking procedure in yet again a very tight fairway.

Once the vessel was tied up, the three of us cracked a beer and toasted the end of our passage.  (We would meet the fourth member later that evening for dinner in town.)

Dubrovnik (Day 14).  Technically, this was the last day of our charter, but we spent the early morning packing and cleaning up the boat.  We had over-provisioned (i.e., bought too much bottled water, paper towels, etc.) so we left those items for the next crew.   We left the boat at 9am, said our goodbyes to fellow sailors on the other boats in the flotilla, and shared a taxi to Old Town, where we checked into our respective apartments. 

I splurged and got a huge penthouse apartment with a terrace overlooking the Old Town.   I would stay here for the next several nights to relax, recover, and plan my next move.

Overall, the last 14 days have been unforgettable.  It was my first international, multi-day charter as skipper.  I learned so many things about boat management, navigation, provisioning, weather forecasting, med-mooring, chartering process, etc.  Thanks to my crew for participating in the journey and supporting each other along the way.

Having Croatia and the Adriatic Sea as a backdrop for this learning experience was an added bonus.  The country is amazing – some parts are super-touristy, but other parts are raw, well-preserved, and/or undeveloped.  I’ll be back.

[I've written quite a bit of detail in the last two updates about our route through the islands of Croatia and the  Central Adriatic Sea.  My hope is these notes will be helpful to other sailors who are planning their own voyage in the area.  We were very happy with our passage plan - the islands and towns we visited, the distances we sailed or motored, the time spent on each island, etc.  Please send me an email at dannyboytravels@gmail.com if you are a sailor and would like more info, or if you'd be interested in me skippering a charter for you and your friends.]

Old Town Korcula (on the island of Korcula).

Very close quarters in the marina at Korcula!  We used a spring line in our departure with wind blowing 10 knots.  The spring line enabled us to make a very sharp turn to the left, before we hit those big catamarans staring us down. :-)

In Pomena, on the island of Mljet, we med-moored in front of a restaurant for two nights.  (They didn't charge us, but required us to eat there both nights.)

Here is the monastery and church on an island in the lake in the National Park Mljet, on the island of Mljet.  Confused?  Yes, it's an island on a lake on an island.  We took this little boat as transport to visit the small island.  (Sign said swimming there wasn't allowed.)

In the bay of Slano, we were the only two boats docked at the quiet town quay.  What a change from previous nights! 

The approach to Old Town Dubrovnik.  Magnificent!

Peeking into the small but very busy harbor inside the walls.

High walls on top of high cliffs... very intimidating from the sea.

Excited yet a bit sad to have our journey end.

Thanks to my first mate, Amanda Webber!  I couldn't have done it without her support, skill, and sense of humor.  

And thanks to OCSC - a fabulous organization who has given me the confidence to be a safe yet adventurous sailor.  

Sailing Croatia (Week 1)

We’ve been sailing for a week on the Adriatic Sea!  What a fantastic travel adventure and amazing sailing experience! 

I’m currently in Marco Polo’s hometown of Korcula, on the island of Korcula.  The wind is blowing hard, which is a change from this first week of light wind.  Our boat is safely moored at the local marina, and I’m safely caffeinated in a local café along the town wall. 

We’re staying in town two nights, giving me time to take a break from being skipper, and provide an update on last week’s events.

Our trip began on Saturday, September, 17.  After a 2-hour classroom briefing on weather, navigation, and local knowledge, we then boarded our 42-foot Jenneau sailboat for a 2-hour check-out.  We went through boat layout, standing and running rigging, and systems.   Our Sunsail representative then left the four of us to stow our belongings and settle in for the evening.

We had a crew dinner that night, and reviewed our sail plan, emergency procedures, roles and responsibilities, and expectations for daily life on board. 

Over the next 14 days, we would sail from the Trogir to Dubrovnik, zig-zagging our way around the islands of Brac, Hvar, Vis, Korcula, and Mljet. 

Here is the first-half summary:

Trogir to Milna (Day 1).  We left Sunday morning under cloudy skies and moderate wind.  (For any sailors reading this as research for their own trip, our departure was actually from the Agana Marina about 12km west of Trogir.)  The favorable wind speed and direction enabled us to sail for about half of the 3-hour transit to Milna, on the island of Brac.  Arriving at Milna, we med-moored at an ACI Marina equipped with a protected harbor and bathroom/showers.  As this was our first stop, we wanted to keep things easy to get into the swing of things. 

Milna to Starigrad (Day 2).  From Milna, we continued southeast and headed to the island of Hvar.  Our first stop was Starigrad, one of the oldest towns in Europe (first established by Greek settlers in 384 BC, per Wikipedia).  As planned, we arrived ahead of the afternoon crowd, so we found a spot to park right along the main promenade.  We enjoyed a celebratory glass of Croatian wine in the cockpit as we watched the passers-by strolling along the waterfront.

Starigrad to Hvar Town (Day 3 and Day 4).  From Starigrad, we sailed west, rounding the western end of Hvar and arriving in the famous port of Hvar Town.  I was looking forward to docking at the town quay, but the harbormaster ushered us away from promenade, saying it was too dangerous in the wind and wave conditions.  We went motored across the harbor to the mooring balls and tied up there.   It took us a few tries in the shallow water and narrow mooring spaces; and the procedure is somewhat complicated since we had to launch the dinghy and have a crew member row ashore with lines to secure our stern.  For two days, we could only access the shore using the dinghy.  The promenade might have been more convenient, but the mooring ball location actually gave us a better view of the town.

We spent 2 nights in Hvar Town.  I think the crew was impressed with the place, and I certainly enjoyed being back in Hvar Town (and not being sick this time).  We had a crew trip up the hill to the Fortress Spanjola that overlooked the entire town.  I enjoyed taking the crew on my “routine” – sunset cocktail at Hula Hula, dinner along the promenade or plaza, and then a relaxing glass of wine at the wine bar.

Hvar Town to Komizia (Day 5).  From the island of Hvar, we headed southwest to the island of Vis, an island famous for its wine as well as its naval history.  Our first stop was the town of Komiza, on the west side.  We struggled a bit with the high town quay and shallow water.  We couldn’t get close enough to the dock for our gangplank to reach.  Rather than use our dinghy, we were able to disembark by climbing on the catamaran next to us (with its shallow draft, it was able to get close enough to the dock for the gangplank to reach).   In Komiza, the crew split up for exploring.  I had a nice walk up the hill to a church and cemetery over-looking the entire town.

Komiza to Vis Town (Day 6 and Day 7).  The next day, we sailed back to the east, along the north side of Vis, and pulled into Vis Town.  Again, thanks to our early arrival, we were able to dock right along the promenade.  We stayed here two nights so that we could enjoy the wine tasting and relax along the town front.  We look long strolls along the promenade, enjoyed the sunsets, and had two great dinners at Kod Paveta.  (It was so good we went back again the second night!)

Vis Town to Korcula (Day 8).   On Sunday, September 25, we had to make the long 45-mile transit from Vis Town to Korcula Town (on the island of Korcula).  One of the crew and I woke up at 6:00am, readied the boat, and departed at 6:45am while the other two crew slept. 

The sky was clear and the sea was calm, and there was just no wind.  Once we were clear of the Vis channel and northernmost point of the island, we turned to the east, set autopilot, and relaxed topside for the next 7 hours as we motored at 6 knots toward Korcula.  The marina in Korcula town was very narrow, but with careful maneuvering we docked successfully.  Many other boats from our flotilla were arriving as well.  It was fun to have a reunion with the other boats and share stories about the first half of our 2-week trip.

From my perspective, the first week has gone pretty well.  The advance work in food-provisioning and route-planning and helped us get underway quickly at the start of the trip.  We had done our shopping and knew where we were going. 

Our plan to leave early in the morning and arrive early in the afternoon each day has paid off – we haven’t had too much trouble finding places to dock in the various towns, where prime docking space is limited.   Although the season is declining at this point, some of the town quays are still crowded and competitive later in the day.

The med-mooring style of docking (stern-to) was probably my biggest concern, but thanks to some practice in San Francisco before this trip as well as a good crew on board, we have been pretty successful without any major issues.  But there have been some issues, as you might expect.

Sailing (and docking) a boat is no easy task under any conditions.  They are big and heavy, and get impacted by wind and waves.  There are lot of lines and a lot of things to remember.  We have certainly had a few minor problems.  Leaving Milna, our dinghy got caught under a neighbor’s mooring line, spinning our stern into harm’s way.  We might have hit another boat or wrapped a line around our propeller.  But thanks to careful, deliberate actions, we resolved the issue quickly and safely.  Leaving Hvar Town, our mooring line snagged under a neighbor’s mooring line; we couldn’t haul it in.  Again our stern swung around, but we were able to steady the boat and work with the neighbor to free both lines safely.

These mishaps probably could have been avoided by double- and triple-checking lines, and we are learning from our mistakes.  The key has been a helpful crew that has good ideas and remains calm under pressure.

We have also been doing a lot more motor-sailing than actual sailing due to the light wind conditions.  We always are careful about wishing for windier conditions - we don't want to jinx ourselves and run into gale force winds.  The motor-sailing has been fine, we just need to be careful on fuel and add a fuel-stop to our plan.

All in all, it's been a great first half!

Stay tuned for next week’s update on the second half of this amazing trip. I’ll also include some summary comments about a sailing vacation – if I can find the words to describe it, that is.

Sitting on the bow as we motor to our first destination.  Our boat name is "Travels with Tin Tin IV." 

View from the Fortress Spanjola overlooking Hvar Town.  The promenade is on the left.  Our sailboat is tied up to a mooring ball on the right somewhere.  

Jumping overboard at Hvar Town!

Checking the depth below our keel and rudder.

From the church on the hillside overlooking the town of Komiza (on the island of Vis).

Moored in Vis Town, along the promenade and facing the church and harbor entrance.

The church across the harbor in Vis Town.

Recovered and Ready to Sail

This week’s update comes a day early because today is an important day in my adventure, and makes for an easy transition:

Today I arrived at the Agana Marina, in the town of Marina, and checked into our 42-foot sailboat.  For the next two weeks, I’ll be skippering this boat as we sail around the islands of Croatia.  

More on that later.  For now, here’s the update for the past week.

My stay on the island of Hvar was fantastic.  I avoided the world-famous nightlife and kept a low-profile in my nifty apartment nestled in the hilly alleyways above old town.  Early nights, late mornings, and afternoon naps coupled with leisurely strolls and coffees along the boardwalk -- I'm on the road to recovery.  

Or so I thought.

By mid-week, I was really no better, but thankfully no worse either.  I decided to make my way back to Trogir (close to where I would pick up the sailboat) and see a doctor.  Maybe I could get some antibiotics or other meds that might help.  Sick for two weeks on a sailboat would be miserable.

So I took a series of two ferries up to Trogir, where I continued my low-key living back at Palace Central Apartments.   Upon my arrival, Ivan and Danielja made me feel like I was coming home.

I visited the doctor on Wednesday.  The hospital, walking distance from my apartment, seemed deserted.  Apart from the main door into the building, all office doors and windows were shut.  What appeared to be the receptionist window had a sign on it saying “We are busy.  If an emergency, call number below.”  Well, that wasn’t going to work for me.

There were a few people (I presume patients) lingering around.  Occasionally a door would open, and one of these patients would scurry in or out, without any sort of announcement of "Next, please."  

For 45 minutes, I just sort of observed and tried to understand how things worked.  A few other tourists wandered in, and then out, of the building too, unable to figure out the situation.  One said this was his second visit today after waiting for an hour earlier in the day with no contact.

Finally, after a man left one of the offices, I caught a glimpse of a nurse behind the door.  Despite her attempt to close the door before I approached, I sort of stuck my head in and said “Excuse me.  I’m sick.  I’m going on a sailboat for two weeks.  I need help.” 

She spoke some English and smiled when she heard the word “sailboat” (as so many people do around here).  She seemed to understand my situation, and ushered me into the doctor’s office behind her.  The doctor didn’t speak English, so the nurse translated.  Again I pleaded my case to the nurse, again emphasizing the word “sailboat” trying to make sure she would include that in her translation.  She turned to the doctor to translate.  When he smiled, I knew she'd said "sailboat" and I was in.

The doctor briefly examined my throat and chest.  He immediately wrote a prescription for antibiotics and nasal spray, and handed me the two pieces of paper.   After saying, “Hvala” (“Thank you”), I then waited for a third piece of paper.  Some kind of bill.  It was an awkward 5 seconds of silence as we stared at each other.  Breaking the silence, I asked, “Well, how much?”  They indicated there was no charge!

Granted, the entire exam and prescription probably took him 5 minutes, but I was expecting some sort of fee.  Instead, they just pointed the way to the pharmacy next door.  I thanked them again and headed off to get my prescriptions filled.

And THAT process also was lightening fast.  Less than 5 minutes to get two prescriptions filled.  At a total cost of about $8.  I spent about as much buying some oranges and peaches on the way home!  Amazing.

So what began as a mysterious, uncertain, and frustrating visit, actually turned out to be really awesome.  The whole excursion still took just over an hour – which in the United States would still be considered a fast visit to the doctor’s office!

Another highlight of the week:  I got my first Croatian haircut!  $7.

Settled back in my nice apartment, loaded up on drugs, it was now time to really “work” on the sailing trip.  I needed to plan our route, make a shopping list for food, check the weather, prepare a pre-sail crew/safety briefing, etc.  

I purchased a few notebooks that we’ll use for ship’s log (to record our position, speed and heading, weather and sea state, mileage, etc. every hour), pilotage (to plot our entry or exit from each harbor in the event visibility is poor), and general notes and reminders for me as skipper.

We have agreed on a rough sail plan to meander our way from Split to Dubrovnik, but stopping on islands of Brac, Hvar, Vis, Korcula, and Mljet along the way. 

Already the weather and wind is not cooperating.  Forecast is for rain the first 2-3 days.  And the wind is coming out of the southeast, which is the exact direction we want to go.  (In sailing, you can never really sail directly into the wind – you have to be at an angle of, say 40-50 degrees.)  So for the wind to be coming directly from our destination means we have to zig zag our way, or motor directly into the wind which leads to a lot of wave-bashing.  Not good for the crew or the boat.  We'll see...

I’m just anxious to get onto the water.  It’s going to be an amazing experience, and potentially challenging one for me as first-time skipper on such a long 14-day excursion.  But I'm ready and excited.

My 3-person crew arrived late in the week, along with other members from the OCSC Sailing club who are on other boats in our 10-boat "flotilla."   We had a nice dinner on the promenade as a large group on Friday night.  

On Saturday, my first mate Amanda and I took a taxi up to the Agana Marina, where we checked into our 42-foot monohull "Travels with Tin Tin" (Ugh, not the most fun name).  We attended an overall charter orientation, and then a more specific boat orientation.  It was a long 6-hour day of listening to information, asking questions, storing our gear and food on the boat, etc.  

We capped the night with dinner and wine, just the four of us who are on my boat.  Dan, Amanda, Don, and Lorenzo.  It's a good crew, and we're going to have a great time!  

We depart tomorrow, Sunday September 17, and return on October 1.  I'll do my best to post some pictures and a mid-trip DBT update.  Our boat actually has WIFI, but as skipper, I'm going to try to reserve the data consumption for only really important stuff -- docking reservations, weather forecast, emergencies.  Unfortunately Facebook and DBT updates aren't included as "really important."  But we'll be on land periodically as we sail into a few of the amazing historic picturesque ports in Croatia, so will do updates then.

Anchor's aweigh!  

The main plaza in Hvar - a good place for dining before pursuing the town's world famous nightlife.

Enjoying grilled fish, lamb, octopus salad, or maybe even a pizza.

A stroll along the promenade in Hvar Town, admiring the super yachts alongside and the fortress above...

The view from my cozy apartment in a 15th century stone house just above the historic town of Hvar.  The host family has lived here for generations.  Amazing!

Later in the week, I headed back to Trogir to continue my recovery in my very comfortable room at Palace Central Apartments in Old Town Trogir.

The fortress in Trogir at sunset.  Stunning.

To Err is Human...

Looking back on my 18 months of various trips, I have been pretty lucky with plans coming together.  So I was probably overdue for some mishaps.  They came this week, and although relatively minor, they were still frustrating - and wasted my time and money.

The week began with a 2-hour bus trip from Zadar to Plitvice, where I would spend a few days hiking around the Lakes National Park.  Sounds easy enough, right?

Well, no.  I managed to screw it up.  Twice.

First, I booked my hotel for the wrong days.  Upon arriving at the Miric Inn, located just outside the Park, I found out that according to their reservation book (and to my confirmation email which I clearly hadn’t read closely), I was a week early!  

My heart was set on staying at this cozy bed & breakfast style inn; and fortunately, they still had a room available for the two nights I would be there.  It was bigger and more expensive, but I took it.  

Second, I hadn't checked the forecast - which was for heavy thundershowers.  On my 2-week sailing charter, every day will begin with weather analysis.  But here on land, after two weeks of nonstop sunshine, I guess I just took the sun for granted.  In this case, the forecast came true; it rained both days I was in Plitvice trying to hike.

With my normal set of travel gear – which includes boots and waterproof jacket – I would have been ok.  “There is no bad weather, just bad gear.” 

But on this trip to Croatia, I didn’t even bring my hiking boots because I had hoped I would be sailing a lot of the time.  And my waterproof jacket?  I brought it, but it was in my sailing bag, which I had left at the Sunsail office a couple of weeks ago so that I could travel ultra-light on this impromptu road trip.  Whoops.  

Had I checked the weather forecast beforehand, I might have postponed my trip a couple of days.  And then in fact my hotel booking might have turned out to be correct!

Despite these planning and packing errors, I still managed to visit the Park during breaks in the rain.  I spent 3-4 hours each day walking the trails around the beautiful lakes, waterfalls, and cliffs. I've posted a few pics below.

In the same week, I made another error in travel booking.  Planning for November, I screwed up my airline flights to Fiji and New Zealand for the upcoming sailing trip.  We are sailing from Fiji to New Zealand, but I mistakenly booked my return ticket to SFO from Fiji, not from New Zealand!

Trying to correct this error, I spent over 3 hours on the phone with Travelocity, on 3 different calls, with probably 6 different representatives.  In the 3 hours on the phone, I was probably on hold for over 2 hours.  What was most frustrating is the 3rd hour ended with us being disconnected!  At that point, I just gave up and will figure it out when the time comes.

I also had the pleasure of dealing with Hotels.com for another hour on the phone.  Again, trying to plan in advance, I had booked a hotel on the island of Hvar.  After getting the confirmation from Hotels.com, I later received an email saying the hotel denied my reservation because there was a problem with my credit card.  So I called my bank and spent 30 minutes with them going over transactions, and finally concluded that everything was ok.  In fact, they didn’t even have a record of the hotel trying to charge my card. 

So I called Hotels.com and after an hour, we finally found out that the hotel denied my reservation not because of my credit card, but because the hotel was full.  I explained to Hotels.com that the hotel should admit the error in posting non-existent inventory, rather than blame it on my credit card (which had the downstream effect of me spending time on the phone with my bank). To Hotels.com's credit, they gave me a $100 coupon for my troubles.

All of this happened while I was in Plitvice, waiting out the rain.

Later in the week, after exploring the Park, I made my way back south by bus, passing through Zadar, Trogir, and Split – spending a night in each town.  Then I took a ferry over to the island of Hvar, where I have hunkered down for the last several days.

And that brings up the last frustrating event of the week:  I’ve come down with a serious cold.   

Too many crowded, dirty bus rides?  Too much hiking in the cold weather without proper gear?  Too many restless nights in different hotel beds?  Too many pastries and not enough fruit for breakfast? 

I was hoping a few nights in my Hvar apartment would have provided me some stability and enabled me to get well before sailing.  But here it is Monday morning and I’m still pretty bad.

I’ll make my way back to Trogir tomorrow, where I will again hunker down for 4 days before the charter begins.  Hopefully I’ll get well.

As several people have pointed out, rarely do I write about the “bad” stuff that happens on the road.  So this update may be a bit unusual and sort of whiney.  But I decided to share this as proof that life on the road isn't always as easy and stress-free as it sounds.  Things go wrong here, just like they do at home.  And boy do I hate calling 1-800 numbers at this point.

Anyway, I'll end with the good stuff:

Plitvice Lakes National Park is magnificent!  There are cool trails of wooden planks over lakes and waterfalls, and dirt paths right along side some of the clearest water I’ve ever seen.  Despite the rain, I had several good hours in the park. 

I continue to have good luck with my apartment and hotel choices.  Miric Inn in Mukinje village was awesome.  Super friendly staff; clean, updated rooms; a great breakfast buffet, and a superb dinner service complete with complimentary homemade plum brandy. 

Later in the week, I returned to Zadar, where I stayed at Apartment Donat, in the upstairs penthouse studio with a magnificent view.  In Trogir, I returned to the Palace Central Apartments where Ivan and Danielja were waiting for me.  In Split, I opted for an Airbnb apartment that was huge and only 3 minutes from the beach.  And lastly in Hvar, I picked an Airbnb apartment in a 15th century house with a small balcony, kitchenette, and very nice host. 

That’s about it for this week.   The planning and packing errors are just sort of a nuisance and embarrassment.  The illness is really the only thing that is troubling.  I've been to the pharmacy and picked up some meds so we'll see if those help.  

Plitvice Lakes National Park - hiking along the trail.

Plitvice Lakes National Park - from the cliffs above.

Plitvice Lakes National Park - the trail along one of the 16 lakes in the park.  

Plitvice Lakes National Park - me in front of one of the many waterfalls.

Plitvice Lakes National Park - from the cliffs above.

The water is so clear!  Look closely in the middle of the pic and you can see a fish eating another fish!

Taking the Plunge

I spent the last week traveling by land yacht (bus) along the Dalmatian Coast of Croatia.  As you might imagine, the impromptu road trip yielded many new experiences and a few “firsts”.

My route took me north from Split, stopping at the towns of Trogir, Vodice, and Zadar.   

Each of these towns (including Split) have similar features:  remnants of ancient walls, fortresses, and cathedrals; narrow cobblestone streets; coastal promenades; beaches; and lots of ice cream shops. 

But the vibe in each town is very different.  Which is best?  That’s impossible to answer because it just depends on what you’re looking for.  Each town has its unique personality – to be discovered (and interpreted) by each visitor individually.  

This week, I bravely explored a few “firsts”.

International Charter Prep.  From Trogir, I took a short day trip to the small town of Marina, where the charter company Sunsail operates.  I stopped by the Agana Marina (confusingly in the town of “Marina”) to drop off my sailing gear and check out the facilities.  I didn’t see our actual boat, but the charter operation looks top-notch.  Very excited to skipper my first international charter in a few weeks!

Cuisine.  Up until now, in terms of local cuisine, I had really only tried slow-cooked lamb in Split, and a few pizzas and Greek salads.   This road trip gave me the perfect opportunity to go deeper.  It was time to try to seafood.  I splurged with octopus salad, mussels, and grilled sea bass.  Plus the fabulous sides of home baked bread, fresh olive oil, Dalmatian-style chard, and local white wine.   I've posted several photos on Facebook (@dannyboytravels) highlighting the dishes.

Ice Cream.  United States has a Starbucks on every corner.  Croatia has ice cream shops on every corner.  Everyone eats it.  And it's CHEAP.  A single scoop cone is 8 kuna, or just over $1 USD.  I love ice cream, but it's generally sometime I don't splurge on when I travel.  But here, I just had to try to.  Yum!  One morning, I couldn't order a fruit smoothie because it was "too early" (it was 9:45am) but they would serve me an ice cream cone.  Go figure.

Adriatic Sea.  In Zadar, I finally took my first plunge into the Adriatic Sea.  Up until this point, I was a bit nervous about it because (a) the water is pretty cold and (b) the coast is rocky.  On one of my first days in Split, I saw a tourist emerge from the water with a bloody lacerated foot because he’d stepped on a sharp rock, broken glass, or nasty sea creature.  If you look closely, all the locals wear crocs or other “water shoes” to protect their feet (except at sandy Bacvice Beach, south of Split).

Anyway, in Zadar, I found the perfect place where I could jump off the rocky cliff into deep water without having to walk out in shallow rocky water.  I could also climb back out on a metal ladder that someone had installed.  (These metal, swimming-pool style ladders are pretty common along the rocky coast.  You don’t want to be scaling the sharp rocky edge as the waves bash you.) 

My swimming spot was at the southern end of the ‘peninsula’ on which Zadar sits.  I had walked down to find a highly-rated café there, Tequila Sunrise.  As it turns out, right next to the café is this great swimming, and jumping, spot.  So I gathered up my nerve and jumped off a 5-foot high cliff into the water. 

Ahh, so refreshing!  Cold, but refreshing.  I took another few jumps off the rocks, each time going a bit higher.  I also enjoyed watching an older man do some really crazy high jumps, seemingly intentionally trying to land as close to the rocks as possible. 

Jumping off into the water was addicting.  On my walk back along the peninsula to the center of Zadar, I stopped by the north end of the peninsula, and jumped in again!  This is where the famous ‘sea organ’ is.  This man-made contraption generates church organ like tones as the waves roll into the stone wall and force air through a variety of holes.  It’s really eerie, especially sitting at sunset, which I did a few times during the week.  I took a recording; I’ll see if I can post something.

The rest of the week was filled with normal stuff.  Lots of walking.  Lots of cafes.

I did stop by a couple of more marinas and charter companies, mostly in Trogir, looking for volunteering or sailing opportunities.  Once again, I was met with negative responses.  The one contact / referral I did receive only resulted in an eventual negative response as well (but with some good tips on how to get a work visa).  That said, I am getting a little traction on some online sailing/crewing websites… not for Croatia, but for adventures in the distant future.  

At the end of the week, I continued my bus trip north – but turned inland.  I’m now at the National Park “Plitvicka-Jezera” (or, Plitvice) where there are a series of lakes and waterfalls.  I took a quick 3-hour walk around the Park this evening and it is amazing.  I’ll post pictures and include that story in my update next week.

On the administrative side, I have changed my return flight from November 15 to October 23.  I’m returning to San Francisco early so that I can pick up my offshore sailing gear.  I’ll head immediately to Fiji where I will be reunited with the sailing vessel Avalon and her skipper Tom.  We’ll make the return sail to New Zealand in November! 

Jumping off a small cliff into the Adriatic Sea for the first time.  Warning:  Don't zoom in - beware the farmer's tan and executive's body.

Facial expression as I hit the cold, salty water for the first time.

View from the fortress (see lower left for corner of fortress wall) at the end of the promenade in Trogir.  I watched a few super-yachts dock alongside here for the evening out.

View from within the fortress.  15th century if I recall correctly.

The "forum" in Zadar.  Seemed like there was a plaza and/or cafe-bar around every corner.  Even moreso than Split perhaps.

The thing to do in Zadar:  Head to the north end of the peninsula where the "sea organ" hums to the motion of the ocean.  Enjoy a beer, your date, and/or a last swim of the day.

Another plaza in Zadar.  Note that Zadar was voted "Best European Destination of 2016".  Hopefully the Croatian Tourist Office wasn't the only one voting!

Splitting Split

As my first week in Croatia comes to an end, I wish I could report more exciting news. 

Like:  “I’m volunteering for an organization that is restoring the historic buildings here in Old Town.”

Or maybe:  “I’m sailing around the islands on a catamaran.”

Even:  “I’m helping out in a family-run restaurant.”

Sadly, no.  The truth is I’ve just been soaking in the European vacation life – minus the sunbathing and smoking.  

I’ve spent a lot of time in the cafes along the Riva.  It’s perfectly normal in this culture to sit down at a table, order of coffee, and stay for an hour or two without ordering anything else.  A full meal with a group of friends (or laptop, in my case) might take 3-4 hours, no problem.

I’ve also done a lot of walking. I’m probably averaging 5-7 miles a day up and down the beach, promenade, and cobblestone streets.  I even went running a few times, enjoying the funny looks people give me.  I guess running isn’t so big here.  After one of my runs, I swore I was going to jump into the Adriatic Sea for a swim.  But the cold water scared me off.  Maybe when we’re sailing…

My apartment has been good, not great.  It has a kitchenette, so I’ve saved some money by eating breakfast and a few dinners at home; and I usually pack a sandwich and fruit for lunch on my walking adventures.  That said, I’ve also had a few typical Croatian meals; my favorite thus far has been the slow-cooked lamb at Pikulece.

I love Split, but I'm already feeling the urge to see other parts of Croatia.  So as of this morning, I've turned in my keys to the apartment and am now sitting at my favorite cafe trying to figure out transportation north.  My plan is to swing by the marina in Trogir, drop off my sailing gear, and travel light to northern part of the Croatian coastline – Vodice, Zadar, and Opatija.  

At least that’s the plan as of 10:30am this morning.  The fun part is, it could all change again tomorrow!  

Miniature model of Old Town / Diocletian's Palace.

Cliff diving is a popular activity along the coast.

Music videos projected on the wall of Diocletian's Palace. 

Settled In Split

Here is my first update from Split, Croatia!

I’ve rented a one-bedroom apartment in the heart of Old Town that will be my home base for the next few weeks.  

Getting here, though, was a bit more challenging than I expected.  My flight from San Francisco to Frankfurt was delayed two hours, so I missed my connecting flight to Split.  Luckily, United found me a flight from Frankfurt to Munich, and then Munich to Split – still arriving the same day, but a very long day. 

Then, finally arriving in Split, I hired a taxi to take me to my apartment.  But, not having done my homework, I didn’t realize that Old Town is pedestrian-only.  The taxi driver could only drop me at the edge of Old Town, forcing me to walk the rest of the way.  I didn't have a detailed map or functioning GPS on my iPhone.  I only had a high-level screenshot I took from hotels.com.  Any of you who have been to Split will understand the difficulty I faced.  The maze of narrow, unmarked streets is quite difficult to navigate at first, even if you have a map!

As I lumbered through the streets with my bags (remember, I have an additional third bag this trip full of sailing gear), I asked a few people for help.  I never like to be "that guy" - the obviously lost tourist stumbling around with his bags.  But I was, this time.    

A young woman named Darin was the most helpful. She left her position at a retail shop to walk around town with me until we finally found the apartment building.  I repaid her that evening with a drink at the heavy metal bar “Splash” that she hangs out at.  Meeting a few locals at a cool bar was a great way to end my long day of travel, even if I forgot to pack my Septicflesh or Deathstar concert T-shirts.

Over the weekend, I spent the afternoons walking along coastline around Old Town.   The main beach is Bacvice Beach, to the south of Old Town.  As the only sandy beach in the area, it is jam-packed with sun-worshippers.  The shallow water extends for a couple hundred yards, which makes it the perfect spot for wading or playing with a small soccer ball or handball, while showing off your perfectly tan, fit body.  I resisted the urge to do the same, and instead sat in the shade with a hat, a sandwich, and a cold beer-flavored water.

In the evening, the bars lining this beach pump out music and cocktails until dawn. I may or may not know that first hand.

To the north (and in other parts to the south) of Old Town, the coastline is pretty rocky with cliffs 1 to 4 meters high.  But that doesn’t stop the beachgoers.  The rocks are lined with people sun-bathing and testing their wits jumping off their perch into the swirling water below. 

In the evenings, I have enjoyed meandering the streets of Old Town - this time getting lost on purpose.  I walk back along the waterfront, watching the boats return to port and admiring the glow of the setting sun reflecting off the stone walls of this historic town.

As night sets in, people don their fancy evening wear and stroll the streets to strut their stuff along the waterfront boardwalk called the Riva, short for Riviera.  I sit at a corner cafe and watch the show while pretending to be important and really busy on my laptop.

I have not just been exploring the beaches and Old Town.  I’ve also been exploring volunteering and sailing opportunities. 

Unfortunately, I haven’t had much luck yet.

I found one volunteering gig, which involved helping restore a sailboat, while staying on the sailboat.  It sounded perfect until the host admitted there was no shower available.  I decided that was a deal breaker even though the host suggested I just take a swim or use the beach shower.  Thanks, but I’ll pass. 

As for sailing, I talked to the local marina and they were basically of no help.  I’ve also been scouring websites like www.findacrew.net and www.crewbay.com.  A lot of the skippers online are looking for “female crew only.”  Hmm, I’m not sure I’d want to be on that boat even if I was a woman. 

I’m discouraged a bit, but Split is such an interesting place I might just stay here and enjoy myself while researching how to launch a kickstarter or gofundme campaign :-)

With the apartment as home base, I hope to take some day trips out to the surrounding small towns in the country or along the coast.  I’ll save the island adventures for when I pick up the sailboat in a few weeks.  The apartment rent will be week-to-week so If I find that volunteering or sailing opportunity, I can still revert back to my original plan.  Time will tell, and I have plenty of it....

P.S.  Going forward, I’ll be posting regular weekly updates early Monday morning, California time.  

Hello, Split!

The Riva, or Riviera.

Don't *any* of these boats want to go sailing with me?

Evening walk through the narrow streets.

Another narrow street.  Waiter taking a break from busy restaurant duties.

The cathedral in the moonlight.

To Oregon and Back

I haven’t written for a couple of weeks – not because I haven’t been doing anything.  In fact, I’ve been moving around quite a bit and just lost track of time.  Unfortunately, I’ve lost track of my budget, too.  Here's the update.

Since my last entry (“Hunting and Gathering” in Oregon), I continued my drive north and met my parents at their new home in McMinnville, Oregon.  What a fantastic community they have found!  Green, friendly, quiet, safe, clean – classic Oregon.

I returned to the San Francisco Bay Area for about a week – once again bouncing around between hotels and Airbnb hosts.  One host couple – Nick and Andrea – was particularly friendly, generous…and talented as it turns out!  Check out Andrea’s music at Andrea Belita on YouTube. She has already recorded an album, and I can’t wait to see how her music career develops.  Thank you, Andrea, for giving me a special live performance of your new single, too. 

In late July, I flew back to Oregon for a family reunion at my parents’ beach house in Manzanita.  The 10 of us packed the weekend with beach walks, hikes, jigsaw puzzles, board games, and lots of snacks.  Good times!  I stayed over in Portland, too, which is quickly becoming one of my favorite cities.  So many cool little neighborhoods popping up!

I’m now back in the Bay Area, house-sitting again for my friends Melissa and Griff at their beautiful home in the quaint East Bay town of Orinda.  This is the perfect place to get some peace and quiet, and plan for my upcoming 3-month adventure in Croatia.  I leave in just over a week! 

Staying at this house for an extended period of time will help me try to get back on budget.  I won’t be spending money on accommodations, and I can do some grocery shopping and home cooking.

Ah, yes, my budget…  I try not to talk about my spending, except for some high level comments in the article Business Insider published about me. 

Let’s just say that I have learned a valuable lesson about my new lifestyle.  Well, maybe it’s less of a lesson and more of a reminder.  The SF Bay Area is SO expensive!  Especially if you are jobless and homeless!  My choice to stay here from June 6 to August 17 was a mistake.  Despite a fabulous volunteering opportunity Glen Ellen, two great house-sitting opportunities in Menlo Park and Orinda, and free housing with my family in Oregon, I have spent way too many nights in hotels and Airbnb over these last two months.  

My future “breaks” between adventures will have to be shorter, and perhaps in a cheaper location within spitting distance of the SF Bay Area – so that I can pop into my storage unit briefly to change gear, but then get out immediately.  A geographic version of "hot potato" so to speak. 

While chartering a 42-foot sailboat in Croatia for 2 weeks isn’t going to help me get back on budget, I’m hopeful that my other 10 weeks in Croatia will be at the other end of the spending spectrum – volunteering in exchange for accommodation. 

And hopefully it will be the kind of accommodation that floats on the water and moves with the wind…

Beach walk at low tide.  I found five sand dollars!

Hoping the tide doesn't come in too quickly...

Sunset at Manzanita.

Hunting and Gathering

My uncle Bruce and I have had some exciting adventures in exotic lands like Uruguay, Panama, and Mexico. 

But he now lives in the quaint coastal town of Florence, Oregon.   So, as I pulled into the driveway, surrounded by a perfectly maintained garden and greenhouse, I wasn’t expecting much except a couple of days of long beach walks and good food.

Well, that’s sort of what happened.  We did take some long beach walks with his wife Mai and dog Isabel.  And we ate excellent food.

What Bruce didn’t tell me is we were going to “hunt and gather” for our food!

The “hunting” took the form of crabbing – setting crab pots and capturing Dungeness crab.  The “gathering” took the form of picking berries, beans, and other goodies from his vegetable garden.

Now, we have all probably picked freshly grown vegetables and berries at one time or another.  It’s fun and feels good, but it just isn’t that exciting or unique.  So I’ll mostly skip that part.

But crabbing?   Cool!  My only previous experience with crabbing has been trying to avoid crab pots as I sailed down the California Coast.  Now don’t get too excited, our little crabbing adventure was (fortunately) nothing like what you’ve seen on TV’s “Deadliest Catch.” 

Here’s a short recap of crabbing with Uncle Bruce.

Crab pots are metal cages with gates that swing open only one direction.  Fresh bait hangs in the middle of the cage.  When launched, the crab pot sits on the bottom of the ocean (or river in our case).  A long line runs to the surface, where a buoy at the end of the line marks the pot’s location for easy retrieval.  Our non-industrial sized pots were about 2’ x 2’ x 1’.   We had six of these pots, plus all the accompanying gear. 

Now, licenses or permits limit the number of pots-per-person.  And there are rules about size, sex, and quantity of crabs that a person is allowed to catch in a given day. 

The specific crab we were hunting was the famous and fabulously delicious Dungeness crab.  The law dictates that crabs must be 5.75 inches across the back, and male; smaller crabs and all female crabs must be released.  Unofficially, older crabs, sometimes identified as “moss backs” because of the dark coloration and/or growth on their backs, are typically more meaty than younger crabs of the same sex and size. 

Fueled by a hearty breakfast of eggs, bacon, and coffee, we loaded Bruce’s 15-foot motorboat with the crab pots, bait, lines and buoys, life vests, gasoline, and of course a big bucket to hold our bounty should we get lucky today.  We towed the boat behind his Jeep, and made our way to the nearby Siuslaw River, where we launched the craft. 

It was a foggy, misty morning – typical Oregon Coast.   We motored down river slowly at first, passing under a very cool drawbridge that is being restore by the city of Florence.   We then passed some big sand dunes and a herd of seals on the beach.  It was very scenic, like something out of a movie.

We were about one mile from the Pacific Ocean.  At certain times the tidal current would bring the bright red/orange creatures up river.  This was perfect for us, since we weren’t about to go out in the open ocean in our small vessel, especially not along the unforgiving Oregon Coast.

We maneuvered the boat out of the main channel and headed a bit closer to shore, until we were in about 15 feet of water.  We prepared the pots by clipping the bait and line to each pot.  We tossed the 6 fully-assembled pots overboard, one by one, spacing them out in two different parts of the river.  We made mental notes of the approximate location of each pot, as indicated by the buoys bobbing in the gentle river current.

We waited about 15-20 minutes, and then circled back to each buoy to retrieve the pot sitting on the riverbed below.  At this point, I was driving the boat as Bruce prepared to do the dirty work of hauling up the pots and inspecting the crabs one by one.

Carefully accounting for the current (both tidal and river), I maneuvered the boat upriver, so we would float slowly past the buoy, at which point Bruce grabbed the line and hauled up the pot.  It reminded me a bit of all the person-overboard practice we do in sailing.

Bruce hauled the first pot out of the water.  Jackpot!  It was full of crabs!!  We dumped them into the bucket, measured each one using a special ruler that fit over the crab’s back, and inspected the underside to determine whether the catch was male or female.  We were constantly watching our fingers, too, keeping them clear of the snapping pincers.

Out of the 10 or so crabs in that first pot, only one was legal.  That was ok.  At least we knew we would be having some crab for dinner tonight!

In the second pot, the only right-sized crab was female.  Bummer.  But rather than throw her back in the water, we left her in the crab pot and re-launched the pot, hoping she would attract equal-sized males into the pot. 

And so it went.  For the next hour or so, we launched and retrieved the pots multiple times.  Our “live female bait” did not end up attracting any legally-sized males, unfortunately.  But our fresh salmon bait seemed to work just fine.  We ended up with 6 full-sized crabs – which was plenty for dinner tonight, and probably lunch tomorrow!  

Satisfied, we packed up the equipment and headed back to the boat ramp.  As we approached, the Fish and Game Warden came down to the dock to meet us.  He asked us what time we started / stopped crabbing, where we dropped the pots, how many crabs we caught, etc.  We gave him all the information he required.  He took a brief look at our bucket, and while he didn’t count “6” he could tell we didn’t have substantially more or less than that.  And he didn’t measure any of them.  We weren’t worried since we knew ours were perfectly legal.

Having passed inspection, we loaded the boat onto the trailer, and drove the short 10-minute drive home.  After cleaning and washing down the boat, we then set up a huge pot in the back yard, over a gas burner, where we would boil the crabs.  While the water boiled, Mai and I picked fresh strawberries and blueberries from the garden.  We boiled, chilled, and cleaned the crabs. 

That night, we enjoyed a true hunter-gatherer meal:  fresh crab from the river and fresh salad and berries from the garden, complimented by white wine which was by all means an acceptable deviation.

It was a great day!   Thanks Bruce and Mai!

I failed at squid in Thailand.  Let's see about crabs in Oregon.

YES!  We caught some crabs for dinner!

Goodbye Glendale!

After a couple of weeks of working in Sonoma and sailing on the Bay, it was time for my next adventure:  a road trip!

My parents are downsizing and moving to Oregon, so I volunteered to drive one of their cars from Los Angeles to Portland.   This also meant, of course, saying goodbye to my childhood house in Glendale.

On Sunday, July 10, I flew from San Francisco to the Glendale/Burbank airport, where my parents picked me up and took me to our Glendale house.  This would be my last visit to the house.  My parents had just hosted the final estate sale, so the house was pretty empty.  In a strange way, though, the emptiness revealed the raw beauty and detailed features of the house:  Spanish tiled stairs, hard wood floors, wrought iron gates and railings, stained glass, vaulted ceiling, etc.

On my previous visit a couple of weeks ago, I took a lot of pictures as well as a walk-though video.  Therefore, on this visit, I didn’t stay at the house for long – just a couple of hours.  This was enough time to watch the Euro Cup Final and get instructions on how to drive a Toyota Prius.

By mid-afternoon, I was standing in the front yard with my parents taking a final picture of me by the "For Sale - Sold" sign.  I said farewell to the house, but packed myself and the memories in the Prius and headed north.  

It was 1,000 miles to the Portland area.   But my plan was to visit some family and friends along the way, perhaps taking me as far north as Seattle, before ending up at my final destination of my parents’ new house in McMinnville, Oregon, just south of Portland.

That first afternoon I drove about 5 hours, stopping in Tracy, California for the night.  I enjoyed a $66 per night hotel, complete with a carpet that didn’t look like it had been vacuumed, a bed that looked like it was 100 years old, and colorful neighbors who liked to yell at each other. 

The next day I drove for 9 hours, arriving my Uncle’s house in the small coastal town of Florence, Oregon, in time for dinner.   I would stay here, with Bruce and Mai, for a couple of nights before continuing on my journey north.  

Sold but not forgotten.

Volunteering in Wine Country

One of the most challenging parts of my new lifestyle is returning to the San Francisco Bay Area to change gear, check mail, catch up with friends, and plan my next adventure. 

These activities aren’t the actual challenge, though.  The real challenge is affording daily life in the Bay Area! 

Without a house to sleep in or a kitchen to cook in, I can very easily blow my budget on $5 lattes, $50 dinners, and $150 hotel rooms.  

Fortunately, my friends have been generous with their homes, offering me a few nights’ stay for free.  I have also leveraged boat charters – sailing during the daytime, and then sleeping on the boat at night.  OCSC has a great facility with free parking, showers, and a WIFI- and coffee-equipped clubroom.

I have also brought my volunteering efforts back home to the Bay.  Through Help Exchange, I found a wonderful couple in Sonoma Valley who needed help with their 10-acre property.  Even though I am just a local Bay Area resident and not a foreign traveller, this family was nice enough to invite me into their home for 10 days.  And their property was fantastic!  The main house sat near the top of the property and had a wrap-around porch that overlooked the barn, riding arena, four horse pastures, olive tree orchard, and several vegetable and wild flower gardens.

I worked on their property for 4-5 hours a day in exchange for a private room, three meals a day, and two cool dogs to keep me company!

I had three major projects:

First, I built wooden fences around four sapling mulberry trees in the horse pastures to protect the young trees from the horses.  This project involved digging holes for the posts, setting the posts in concrete, staining the side rail boards, and finally screwing the side rails in place.   When completed, the four enclosures looked great, and matched the main fences around the four pastures.   (Each horse would have its own pasture and a mulberry tree to provide some shade during those hot Sonoma days.)

Second, I helped finish two berms and surrounding rock retaining wall.  This project involved a lot of heavy lifting – whether I was moving dirt around to form the berm, or moving big rocks around to build the retaining wall.  I also sifted through the dirt to remove medium-sized rocks, which I then transported via wheelbarrow to a drainage ditch that we were lining with rocks to prevent erosion. 

Third, I did some basic gardening around various parts of the 10 acres.  I used the gas-powered weed whacker to cut wild grass.  I used a narrow shovel to dig up tough weeds and unwanted plants.  And I mulched around the various fruit and olive trees, making sure each tree had a nice bowl-like skirt of mulch to hold water.

The arrangement was fantastic!

They treated me like one of the family.  We enjoyed some great sunset dinners on the front porch and watched some exciting Euro Cup soccer games.   We enjoyed some memorable events too – the shocking Brexit vote result and the arrival of the classic Triumph TR3 they had just purchased!

A typical day would go like this:  I woke up at 7am for breakfast of granola, yogurt, blueberries, and coffee.    I worked all morning to avoid the Sonoma heat, and hung up my gloves and boots by 1pm.  I showered, and helped myself to lunch, which was usually leftovers from whatever fantastic dinner we had the previous night.  Then I would venture out to explore the community of Glen Ellen.  That usually meant visiting one or two local wineries, or hanging out at the Jack London Saloon for free popcorn and WIFI.  I would rejoin the family around 7pm for a home-cooked meal on the front porch.

One day, I spent the afternoon at the Jack London State Park.   What an amazing place to spend the day!  The museum (contents and structure) are fascinating.  There are short hikes to Jack London’s grave and to his dream “Wolf House” which unfortunately mostly burned down just before he was to move in.  In the museum, I was struck by two quotes from Jack London:  

1)  "The proper function of man is to live, not to exist.  I shall not waste my days in trying to prolong them.  I shall use my time. "

2)  "Then the lure of adventure began to grip us.  Why not start at once?  We'd never be any younger, any of us."

These quotes remind me of why I have chosen to pursue my new lifestyle - chasing my dreams now, rather than saying "maybe someday..."

My time in Sonoma sped by.  The work was hard, physical, and hot.  I admit I was a bit sore each morning.  I would rather be sore from working outdoors surrounded by horses, dogs, and gardens than sore from sitting in a cubicle for 12 hours a day.

I took a break around the Fourth of July weekend to do 5 days of sailing on the San Francisco Bay.  I went out with club members and/or friends from July 1 to July 5, sailing in 25 knots of wind each day!  Boats varied from the J24 (performance boat) to the Beneteau 37 (my favorite club boat) to the Hanse 385 (the brand new club boat).  Thanks to each set of crew for bringing tasty snacks and a positive (and brave) attitude! 

I returned to Glen Ellen ranch on Tuesday evening, July 5, to work a couple more days.  True to form, the happy couple was sitting in the living room and greeted me with a glass of wine.  

Fence posts in.  Testing measurements of first horizontal board.

Box complete.  Now time to stain.

Stained.  Done.  Ready for the horses!

One of the berms, with rock retaining wall.

The other berm, with horses in the background.  :-)

Clearing rocks from the berm (to get it ready for planting), and putting the rocks in the drainage ditch to prevent erosion.

Whacking some weeds.  Why not!  This was fun!

The Triumph TR3 arrives via delivery truck.  Owners driving up the driveway for the first time!

Moments later, owners decide to put the top down and test out the TR3 on the curvy Sonoma roads.  Have fun R & L!

Taking a break from the heat in Sonoma Valley to enjoy 5 days of sailing on the San Francisco Bay, including a wonderful Fourth of July sail with friends, champagne, and tons of food.  Wind was a consistent 25 knots during those 5 days - so that added to the fun as well. :-)

Enjoying More Reunions

Back in the Bay Area this week, I have been enjoying more reunions – but nothing formal like my college reunion.  These have just been intimate gatherings with close friends.

Friday, I was invited to a deliciously fun dinner party at a friend’s house in San Francisco.  Dinner was amazing, my glass was never empty, and the laughs never stopped.

Sunday, another friend organized a group outing to Angel Island for a hike and picnic, with her husband, kids, and some of our other close friends. We celebrated Father’s Day, as well as birthdays and an anniversary.  I resisted the urge to actually sail to the island, opting instead to take the ferry over like 'normal people.'  

And just this past Wednesday, I gathered with some of my best friends at our monthly "guys' happy hour."  This is a tradition that I started over 2 years ago when I began working in downtown San Francisco.  We meet one Wednesday a month, in the Financial District since that seems to be most convenient, especially for those of us commuting by train.  This is a night where the guys can take a break from work and family life, and join me for drinks, dinner, and the same old stories we've told each other a million times. It's always a fun night, and we all appreciate the partners who are at home holding down the fort and managing the kids.

These gatherings – whether we celebrated something formally or not – were a celebration for me.  At least in my head.  I was celebrating just being reunited with such great friends, after so many months of travel.  

I’ve said several times that living on the go, country to country, isn’t always as glamorous as it sounds.  One of the many challenges is fighting off the feeling of loneliness.  Sure, I meet people on the road and make new friends, but it's different.  They are new friends, and we are just getting to know each other.  More often than not, they are from a different country, so happy hours and picnics are a little tough.

On Friday, Sunday, and Wednesday, I was with friends whom I have already known for a decade or more.  We have had amazing experiences together - weddings, births, birthdays, travel, etc.  We live (or have lived) in the same neighborhoods.  

They are special people, and I miss them when I’m on the road. 

Great friends, great day, on Angel Island, San Francisco.

Nostalgic Road Trip to Los Angeles

This past weekend I drove down to Los Angeles from San Francisco.  It’s about a five and a half hour drive the way I did it – straight down the Interstate 5.  Taking the Pacific Coast Highway is much more scenic, but just about doubles the driving time.

The purpose of my visit to Los Angeles was two-fold. 

First, I helped my parents pack up our house in Glendale.  They are selling the fabulous Spanish-style house – which is the house I grew up in – and moving to Oregon.  We have vacationed every year in Oregon as a family, my younger brother lives in Oregon with his wife and kids, and my parents still own a beach house on the Oregon Coast.  So it’s not unfamiliar territory at all.  It’s a great move, but certainly tough to leave such a beautiful house with so many memories.  The good thing is, the memories stay with us.  My parents have done a good job 'purging' so that not everything in the house is going with them to Oregon.  It was fun to go through so many bits of nostalgia, including old photos, correspondence and news clippings, and personal effects.  Perhaps the biggest highlight was that in the evenings, my parents and I sat around and watched "Shark Tank" episodes.  This is way better than in the past when they would make me watch "The Bachelor" episodes.  Way to go, Mom and Dad!

Second, I attended my college reunion at Occidental College.  I was slightly disappointed at the attendance (we only had about 10% of our class show up), but the reunion weekend included reunions for classes from every 5th year, so I had a chance to mingle with alums from other classes as well as my own.  One of my best friends, who couldn’t make the reunion and whom I had lost contact with for nearly 10 years, was nice enough to fight the LA traffic to meet me separately for dinner the following week.  You know who you are… Thanks!

In all, I was in Los Angeles for about 6 days.  It still felt like home in so many ways. – especially my childhood house, the neighborhood streets, and the Occidental College campus (which is only 6 miles from my house).  But at the same time, the City of Glendale has changed so much (it’s now a thriving metropolis with traffic!), and I was anxious to get back to the City by the Bay.

On the drive back north, I couldn’t help but think about my own house in San Carlos, and how nice it would be to pull into the garage and flop down on my couch with a glass of wine.

Ooops.  House is rented still.  The adventure must go on… What's next?  Stay tuned!

My childhood home.  Spanish-style with lots of stained glass, tile, wrought iron, and arches.  This is taken from the stairway landing (see comment on last picture about Christmas morning - this was the view we'd have as we came down the stairs with Mom, Dad, Christmas tree, and lots of presents below...)

This was the stained glass window in our wood-paneled den, or TV room.  The room also had a red light in the left-hand corner and a green light in the right-hand corner.  I never really made sense of this until now -- after 4 years of sailing -- these are nautical "running lights."  Red is left, port side.  Green is right, starboard side.  All these years later, I see these hints about sailing that were right in front of me for 18 years living in this house!

Another feature related to sailing:  Spanish galleons engraved on the lights in our living room.  Each of the four fixtures had a different engraving of a ship.  So cool, I never really noticed. (Or maybe I did notice but it just didn't hit home as much as it does now.)

Our tile stairs.  We used to come down these in our pajamas on Christmas morning.  We would pause on the landing, shown here, and peer over the wrought iron railing looking down into the living room.  My parents would be in the living room below and film us.  Those old home movies are somewhere now converted to DVD...I hope.

NZFJ Passage Notes: "The After"

It's taken me a while to write and post this.  I may update / edit this a bit, but for now, here are some takeaway thoughts on the passage.  

Smelling Land.  Sailors say that after you’ve been at sea for a while, you become accustomed to the fresh marine air.  As you then approach land, you can actually smell “land” – and “people.”  I found this hard to believe, until I actually experienced it.  And it’s true.  It’s hard to describe the smell – it’s not garbage, or cheeseburgers, or gasoline, or perfume.  It’s just some combination of non-natural odor that is different from the fresh, salty air over the open ocean.   

Beyond the smell, the sight of land after a week or more at sea brings on a couple of conflicting emotions.  The first is “relief” – we made it, we are safe, etc.  However, there is also the feeling of “shoot, it’s over already” – let’s keep on going, we have a routine, it’s great. 

Living by the Sunrise and Sunset.  The passage was sort of like camping, I guess – an activity where you are much more in tune with nature and the changes between daytime and nighttime.  We were dependent on nature in so many ways during this passage.  Here is how I experienced the evenings and mornings.

 As we sailed off into the sunset, and land disappeared behind us, I thought, “We’re really on our own now.  This is the real deal.”  With each subsequent sunset, there was a peaceful feeling as the sky was so beautifully colored and purely visible (no telephone poles, buildings, or even trees to block the view).  Again, there was a sense of solitude from the outside world.  As the darkness came, so did a cautious but unsettling feeling of what the night would bring.

 Fortunately, we sailed mostly during a waxing moon (moon approaching full), so we enjoyed several hours of bright moonlight each night.  As the moon “set”, the sky became dark and we enjoyed brilliant stars – so much more visible away from city lights – but that unsettling feeling still came around.  Ok, now it’s getting really dark.  We are sailing by instruments only, not able to see (and avoid) the big swells or see any landmarks.

 Such sailing at night can be stressful and tiring – and can be scary depending on the conditions.  We each only took a maximum of 2 hours at the helm, as driving required serious concentration to stay on course. 

As that first light begins to brighten the horizon in the early morning, there was often a great sigh of relief (that we made it through the night), excitement (that we have a whole day of sailing ahead of us), and exhaustion (ok, it’s light, let’s get some sleep). 

Owning a Boat and Making a Passage.  Both owning a boat and making a passage require a lot of patience.  Things don’t always go as you expect.  You have to be ready with a Plan B or even Plan C.  As I mentioned in a previous post, I have been spoiled to some degree with the great service department at the Olympic Circle Sailing Club, which keeps the boats in top shape, ready for a day sail.  I just have to show up. 

Over the last couple of months, I had great visibility into what it’s REALLY like to own a boat.  Checking all the systems, making repairs or upgrades, learning the nuances of driving/sailing, keeping everything clean and organized, dealing with the specialists who come help, etc. 

Skipper Tom had only recently purchased the boat, so another level of my learning was just general boat ownership/set-up.  What’s it like to take ownership of a boat?  What are the set-up costs and activities?  What problems might occur? 

To help with boat jobs, we had to rely on a number of outside specialists (for rigging, refrigeration, water-maker, etc.)  It was very important to build relationships with these people.  You want them to care about what they are doing -- they are working on a piece of equipment that may or may not save your life. 

 I also had great insight into the passage planning aspect.  I’ve been trained as a Coastal Skipper, but up until now my experience has been pretty limited to only a weekend sail.  This was 8 days, open ocean, no safety nets.  So to watch, and in fact help, the skipper prepare for the passage to Fiji was very educational. There is a seemingly endless number of factors to consider.  Crew, sails, provisions, safety equipment, boat performance, course, and weather.  The one that struck me as most significant (at least in this area of the world) was weather data.  We had multiple sources for intel on what was going on with weather fronts. 

Passing the Test.  In the end, this was a test for me.  Can I handle the open ocean?  Will I get seasick?  Will I have fun?  Will I get claustrophobic on the boat for so long?  Will I get along with people? 

I’m happy to report that I passed my own self-administered test.  I had a great time, performed my duties, stayed healthy, and remained positive.  I’m ready to go again!

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).