Border Crossing...Drama?

Since my last update, I spent five pleasantly uneventful days in Belgrade, Serbia, highlighted by some fantastic meals, interesting museums, and multiple sidewalk cafes. It was great to settle into an apartment (One Luxury Suites - highly recommended!) for a few days, do some laundry, and reorganize my bags.

As Sunday, September 9, arrived, I decided to begin my journey back west toward Croatia. I would continue the clockwise circle I was making through parts of former Yugoslavia. From Belgrade, I would swing down to Sarajevo in Bosnia and Herzegovina, and then on to Mostar.

Well, let’s get to Sarajevo first. It was going to be a 7-hour bus ride, with the bus leaving Belgrade at 4pm and arriving in Sarajevo around 11pm. Given the late evening arrival, I made sure to book a hotel ahead of time. I wasn’t quite as diligent as I should have been on directions to the hotel… more on that later.

I bid farewell to the apartment manager in Belgrade, and headed to the main bus terminal. I had purchased my ticket ahead of time, since now I was on a bit of a schedule to get all the way back to Croatia before the sailboat charter starts.

To my delight, the bus was not crowded. I took an empty row in the 3rd row from the back, with no one behind me. I sat back, ready to enjoy to journey.

Within minutes of leaving the bus station, I noticed a silver Mercedes Benz speeding alongside our bus, with the car’s driver honking, waving, pointing, and yelling - apparently trying to get the bus driver to pull over. “Was something wrong with our bus?” I thought.

We pulled over to the shoulder and the bus driver got out to talk with the frantic Mercedes Benz driver. Soon, four gentlemen emerged from the sedan, flashed some passports and papers to the bus driver, debated a bit, and then boarded our bus. Were they just running late?

The four of them took the two rows behind me, each taking one of the four window seats. They didn’t want to talk to each other? They just wanted to enjoy the view?

They stored three small day-packs in the upper luggage bins over our heads. Three small backpacks for four people? Going to a destination 7-hours away? Even if it was just an overnight trip, man, that is packing light!

Things were pretty quiet for the next 2-3 hours. The late-arrivers sat quietly, maybe one or two even dozed off. Or maybe I did.

Pause here. Let me explain border crossings on a bus.

Border crossings on a bus are interesting and usually happen one of two ways. Sometimes, everyone gets off the bus with passports in hand and files through a passport control station (like at an airport). Then the bus pulls forward through the gate and everyone re-boards the bus. Other times, a passport control officer comes on board the bus, collects passports, and takes them back to the office where all the documents are scanned. Then the officer comes back onto the bus and returns the passports to their rightful owners.

Whichever way it is, it happens TWICE for each border crossing. Once for the departure country, and once for the arrival country.

For the crossing from Serbia to Bosnia and Herzegovina, the passport control officer boarded the bus and collected the passports. We all sat patiently, and he came back as usual a few minutes later, but not will all the passports… with only three passports. He walked down the aisle, straight to the back of the bus, and asked three of the four late-arrivers to step off the bus with their backpacks.

The fourth member of the group was an older gentleman, maybe the young men’s father; I don’t know but he just sat quietly as his companions exited the bus and went into the border patrol building.

We waited, and waited. I presume the young men were being questioned and perhaps searched. Twenty minutes passed. Thirty minutes passed. As we waited, the older man behind me received a phone call on his mobile. In a hushed voice, he spoke Serbian or Bosnian (?) to whomever was on the other end.

Obviously, I couldn’t understand, but my imagination went wild.

“Did you make it? Are you in the clear?”

“We are at the border now. They boys got called off the bus. We’ll see."

“Ok. Good luck.”

Finally, after about forty-five minutes, the young men emerged from the building, arms crossed, heads down, looking very serious. For a moment, I thought, “They got caught. They aren’t getting back on.”

But they did get back on! As they walked down the aisle toward the back rows, their serious faces turned to sly smirks. Maybe I was imagining things, but I swear it looked like they had just fooled someone.

As they sat down, they weren’t quiet anymore. They were very chatty amongst themselves and with the older gentleman. I presume they were exchanging stories of what went on in the border patrol building.

Minutes later, the older man’s phone rang again.

“Clear?”

“Yep, we made it.”

“Good, proceed to the rendezvous point.”

I’m sure the truth of the situation was perfectly harmless. Well, pretty sure. But it made for an interesting bus ride.

The adventure didn’t stop there, though. Because of the delay, we didn’t arrive in Sarajevo until nearly midnight. I had about 2km to walk to my hotel, in the dark, in a foreign city, with only a high level screenshot of a map. Even if the screenshot had street names, it probably wouldn’t have mattered because street signs in this part of the world are the exception, not the rule.

Yes, I could have flagged down a taxi, but that’s just too easy. The high-level map indicated the hotel was southeast from my location. I tightened up my laces, adjusted my backpack straps, and set off into the night…

These guys flagged down our bus from a speeding Mercedes Benz, and came aboard. Then they managed to cross the border. It’s probably all legit, but for a while I had my doubts…

Three Days, Three Hikes

Ljubljana, Slovenia is a fantastic little town.  I could sit for days at any one of the riverside cafes or parks and just watch life go by.  But I also took some mini-adventures -- 3 hikes in 3 days -- that I thought I would write about, in case the details help others plan their trip to Ljubljana.  

I took two trips to nearby lakes in the Julian Alps for some (semi-) serious hiking, and I spent one full day on an "urban hike" around the city.  Here are the details:

The first trip was a day trip to Lake Bled, only about an hour away by bus.  I caught a bus from the main station at 9:30am, and was on the trail at Lake Bled by 11:00am.  

Starting from the town of Bled on the east end of the lake, I circumnavigated the lake clockwise.  

The south side of the lake offered great views of both the castle sitting majestically on the cliff across the lake, and of the church sitting quietly on a small island in the lake.  

At the west end of the lake, I took a detour and headed up a dirt trail to Mala Osojnica, which offers some classic views overlooking the lake, castle, and church.  It's a steep but short trail, and not exactly well-marked, so be careful.  

After having lunch at the viewpoint, I descended and continued my trek around the lake.   Along the north side, I took another detour and made the ascent to the Bled Castle.  While the castle itself was not that interesting (it's been pretty "commercialized"), the views are outstanding.  I didn't eat at the restaurant there, but I can imagine it would be a nice place to relax with a glass of wine or a meal. 

By the late afternoon, I was back in the town of Bled.  I considered staying for a rewarding cold beer and snack at one of the lakeside cafes, but I was a bit worried about a rush of tourists all trying to catch the later buses back to Ljubljana.  So I opted to catch one of the earlier buses, one leaving at 4:00pm.  

The next day, I stayed in Ljubljana and took a long walk around town, visiting sites that people had recommended or that I had read about.  

From my hotel, I headed northwest to Tivoli Park and wandered around the many paths there.  It was a weekday, so most of the people in the park were bustling along by bike or foot on their daily commute, perhaps using the park as a shortcut across town.

Next, I headed back down to the river and followed it southeast, to a neat canal which veered off to the west.  I walked up the canal a few hundred yards, but then continued back along the river, along a section that locals call "the beach."  The river bank here has a series of stone steps, like stadium seating, shaded by drooping willow trees.  I could just imagine the scene on a warm summer weekend day:  the steps lined with sun bathers and picnickers, locals and tourists.  Today, though, again because it was mid-week, the steps were pretty vacant.

I crossed over the river on a footbridge, and headed up a hill at the southeast part of town.  I was hoping for a good view, but didn't find one.  Just a lot of good hiking trails weaving through the woods.  

I then headed back toward the center, walking through what once was the vineyard of the Ljubljana Castle.  I passed alongside the castle, and down into the city center again.  

Crossing another bridge, I headed up to Metelkova, which is a small district known to be very artsy, free-spirited, and alternative.  Buildings are heavily decorated with graffiti and ornaments of all sorts.  One building is supposedly an old jail that has been turned into a hostel (so you actually sleep in a jail cell).  At night, the district is supposed to come to life.  But once again, today at 3:00pm, it was pretty desolate other than a few people sitting around on the balconies or porches, who looked like they were recovering from the previous evening.  I took a few pictures, even though I'd read about tourists being told, "No pictures, we are not a zoo."  I got a little of that vibe, so I walked up and down the street, and then moved on.

I headed back to the main square and enjoyed the late afternoon sun with a coffee at a sidewalk (and riverside) cafe.  

The third day, I packed my bag, said farewell to Ljubljana, and took an early morning 2-hour bus ride to Lake Bohinj in Triglav National Park.  My plan was to circumnavigate this lake (about 11km), and also make the ascent to the famous Slap Savica waterfall. 

I checked into Hotel Jezero in the lakeside village of Ribcev Laz located at the east end of the lake. I hit the trail at 10:30am.  At the advice of the hotel clerk, I started counter-clockwise around the lake. 

The path along the north side of the lake was a relatively flat dirt trail about 20 feet up from the waterline, so it was easy enough to sneak down to the water for a photo, rest, or even refreshing dip.

When I reached the west end of the lake, near the village of Ukanc, I followed the signs to Slap Savica waterfall, eventually (an hour?) reaching the ticket office.  Yes, you have to buy a 3 euro ticket to enter the waterfall area.  Ticket in hand, I began the climb, which is up 500 steps to the viewing hut.  

When I got to the top, I checked my watch.  It was 1:00pm.  So it took me 2.5 hours from the hotel in Ribcev Laz to the waterfall.  (In case anyone is planning a trip.)

To be completely honest, I was a bit disappointed by the waterfall.  The waterfall itself is not that tall.  (This is coming from someone who has been to Yosemite many times, and who has seen Niagara Falls as well.  This is not that.)   Also, the viewing area is pretty far away and pretty small, so people have to take turns getting into the best selfie position.  That said, the pool of water at the bottom is a very pretty greenish blue color, making for good pictures.  And the simple location of the waterfall - tucked way back in this crease in the mountain - is pretty interesting.

After having lunch at the viewing area, I made my descent back down to the lake.  I continued with my circumnavigation, following the path around now to the south side of the lake.  This section was less interesting because the walking path is actually further away from the shoreline.  In fact, in some places, the road is actually between the shoreline and the walking path - so your view is ruined by cars and buses zipping by.   

There are some sections where you can leave the walking path and just meander along the water line on a sort of unofficial trail.  But in other places, you have to go back up to the walking path because of rocks or trees blocking the shoreline.

I completed the entire circumnavigation plus the waterfall in about 6 hours, including stops for eating lunch, taking photos, and wading in the lake.  So, while it would be possible to do this as a day trip from Ljubljana, I was glad my hotel was at the end of the trail.  In fact, I had a very nice sparkling water, beer, and mixed grill dinner at Pod Skarco next door.

It was a great three days of hiking in different areas.  My time in Slovenia was coming to an end though.  The next morning I packed up, and took the bus back to Ljubljana, transferred buses, and headed back into Croatia - to the capital, Zagreb.

Lake Bled.

The view of the castle and church, from the south side of Lake Bled.

The view from Mala Osojnica.

The view from Bled Castle.

My walking route around the city of Ljubljana, Slovenia.

Taking a break along "the beach" in Ljubljana, Slovenia.

The artsy, alternative area known as Metelkova (in Ljubljana, Slovenia).

Lake Bohinj and surrounding area in Triglav National Park, Slovenia.

Ready to hike 11+ km around the lake and up to the waterfall!

The water in Lake Bohinj is so clear!

Slap Savica waterfall.

One more of the waterfall, with me in the picture this time. :-)

Wading in the refreshingly cool water of Lake Bohinj after a long day of hiking.

A Day in the Life...

A recent string of events led me to write this post, and to share a glimpse into "a day in the life" of Dannyboy Travels.  

I had arrived in Croatia on Thursday, August 23.  I immediately made my way to Trogir, via taxi from the airport in Split.  I returned to Palace Central Square apartments, where I had stayed for several nights in 2016.  The family operators are very friendly, welcoming, and accommodating.  

I stayed one night, and then left my sail bag with the family so that I could explore Croatia and surrounding countries for three weeks with a lighter load.  Before heading into new territory though, I decided to revisit a couple of familiar towns, Split and Zadar.

I started off by taking the ferry down the Split for the weekend, spending time walking on the beach, strolling the promenade, and lounging in the cafes.  I stayed for two nights, in two different accommodations due to limited high-season availability.   But the rooms were very nice. 

All good so far.  

Then, on Sunday, I headed to Zadar.  And that's when the mini-adventure began.  

I didn't book a bus ticket ahead of time; I knew there were frequent buses going to Zadar.  I just showed up at the main bus station in Split.  It was 10:44am.  As luck would have it, there was a bus leaving at 10:45am!  Without hesitation, I purchased the ticket, handed the driver my bag, and boarded the bus.  

Well, as it turns out, this bus was taking a local route.  So the two-hour trip actually took three hours.  I didn't mind much, though.  It's a nice coastal drive, and I enjoyed watching the locals go about their daily lives hopping on/off the bus.   (Lesson 1:  Always check both the departure *and* arrival time of your bus!)

We arrived in Zadar just after 2:00pm.  Casually gazing at the street scene from my window seat, I patiently waited for people to exit the bus... including the woman sitting in the aisle seat next to me.  But she never stood up.  In fact, people were now starting to get *on* the bus!  I suddenly realized that Zadar was not the final destination - but it was my destination!  I had to get off!  I jumped up, nearly crawled over the woman, and stepped off the bus.  She was very nice though.  In broken English she asked if I was sure this was my stop.  I smiled and said yes, "Zadar."  She smiled back.  I then had to interrupt the driver from loading bags to actually unloading a few bags so we could dig out my backpack!  Whew.  (Lesson 2:  Know your stop.)

After my mad dash off the bus, I then began the leisurely and familiar 20-minute walk to the center of town.  Once there, I grabbed a table at Cafe Forum and sipped a coffee while using their spotty WIFI to look for a hotel room.  Very unlike me, I hadn't booked ahead of time.  Online, and in between lost network connections, I found a room for a great price just a block from where I was sitting. 

As I was about to press "Book," I reviewed the details once more.  And good thing I did!  The reservation was for the wrong day!  I guess because it was close to 3:00pm, the app I was using defaulted my room search for the following day.  I canceled out and started my search over.

The previous room wasn't available, but I found a new room equally priced and similarly located.  I booked it, after double-checking the day.  (Lesson 3:  Double-check online purchases.)

After paying for coffee, I headed to check in.  The establishment had good signage, so it was easy to find.  But there was no front desk.  It was literally an apartment unit.  I had to wait for the manager to text or email me with check-in instructions.  The challenge was I had no WIFI or cell service.  (Lesson 4:  Book ahead, especially if it's an "apartment" with no front desk in which case you have to arrange meeting the manager.)

So back to the Cafe Forum I went, for another coffee and more WIFI.  At this point, it started to rain, so the massive outdoor seating area at the cafe closed, and everyone rushed inside.  No seating for me and my big backpack.  I stood outside, skipped the coffee, and focused on sorting out my room.

I texted the manager.  No answer.  

After a few minutes, I decided to call Hotels.com to see if they could help.  I logged into my Skype account and made a free WIFI call.  Free, because I pay $13/month for unlimited/anywhere Skype calling - a new service I'm trying.  As this call turned out to be 24 minutes long (mostly being on hold), maybe it's worth it.  

Hotels.com was not helpful at first.  The representative couldn't reach the manager either, and so then she instructed me to book another room elsewhere while she canceled my existing reservation ... but that I would still have to pay for the canceled room!  WHAT?  That made no sense to me.  I told her not to cancel, and that I would figure something out.  (I wasn't going to win any economic battle on a spotty WIFI phone call.  I'd deal with this back in the U.S.)

I hung up, and started to look for another room as a Plan B.  But, wait, an email popped up!  It was from the manager saying he'd meet me in 15 minutes.  Awesome.  I headed back to the apartment.  (To be fair to Hotels.com, they also were able to eventually reach the manager.  But their suggestion that I pay for two rooms for one night was ridiculous and unreasonable.)

I stood right outside the gate, with my backpack at my feet, trying (for once) to look as "touristy" as possible because, without cell service, I would be unreachable by text, phone, or email.  We would just have to find each other visually.  I figured he couldn't miss me.  (Lesson 5:  Maybe it's time to invest in a local sim card / MyFi device.)

About 15 minutes later, I noticed a gentleman walk right be me and stand about 30 feet away.  He had his cell phone in his hand, and appeared to be waiting or looking for someone.  Was this the manager?  Why wouldn't he stand at the gate to the apartment complex, too?  

Finally, about 5 minutes later, he came back to me and said, "Are you Dan?"  

Well, yes, of course I am.

Now, as it turns out, the apartment was very nice.  Super clean, very spacious, and well located. Suddenly, all the hassle of getting to this point in the day faded away.  (Lesson 6:  Things tend to work themselves out over time.)

I realize a lot of the hassle was actually my own fault (for not booking ahead, not paying attention, etc.)  But if everything was planned out and perfectly executed, I'd have nothing to write about. These hiccups, as long as they aren't major ones (and these were all very minor in the scheme of things), help make travel interesting and fun ...  And maybe that's Lesson 7.

Listening to the Sea Organ in Zadar, Croatia.

Diocletian's Palace in Split, Croatia.

At the Forum in Zadar, Croatia.

After a long travel day, I can finally relax in my apartment in Zadar, Croatia.

DBT Mode: ON

After spending 5 months in one place - working as a Sailing Instructor in the San Francisco Bay Area - I'm pressing the ON button for DBT Mode.  

For the next 6 months, I'll be homeless again, living out of a backpack and facing the uncertainty, the challenge, and the reward that comes with that choice.  

I leave tomorrow for Croatia, where I'll spend 6 weeks exploring by bus and by boat.  Since I spent a lot of time in Croatia in 2016, this time I'll probably venture into neighboring countries of Slovenia, Serbia, and Bosnia for the first four weeks.  Then I'll return to Croatia, pick up a sailboat, and sail with friends (and 8 other boats!) down the coast of Croatia, from Split to Dubrovnik.  

After sailing in Croatia, I'll fly to Germany for a week of trekking the Alps with good friends, capped by an evening or two at Oktoberfest.  What started nearly 20 years ago as a fun vacation has now become an almost-annual ritual.  It's one of the highlights of every year.  

Beyond that, I don't really have a plan that I'm ready to announce just yet.  

A good traveler (and good skipper) always carries a journal.

My storage unit is locked, but I am free to roam the world!

Back to Corporate Life?

Last week, I found myself surrounded by whiteboards, colored markers, box lunches, and conference tables.  What?  Had the last three years of sailing, volunteering, and traveling just been a dream?  

Hmm.  Despite the very corporate-looking setting, through the windows I see the blue San Francisco Bay, the glistening city skyline, and the Golden Gate Bridge.  And I'm sitting here in my big rubber boots, salt-crusted overalls, and "OCSC Sailing Club Instructor" shirt.

Phew.  No, I'm not back in the rat race after all.  I'm just helping the OCSC Sailing Club host a 4-day team-building event for a corporate client.

And the event was awesome!

On this occasion, the OCSC Sailing Club hosted a group of 20 managers from the worldwide offices of a multinational company.  We divided the group into 4 teams on 4 boats.  On Day 1, we gave the teams basic instructions on hoisting the sails and sailing the boat (dockside only).  On Day 2, we set out on a practice sail and let the participants rotate through positions to develop their boat handling skills.  On Days 3 and 4, we set them loose on a designated race course!  Each newbie sailing team had to work together to sail their boat through the course, competing with the other 3 boats for the best time!  (Yes, there was a professional skipper on board for safety reasons, and for minimal coaching as needed.)  

In the end, it wasn't about winning.  It was about teamwork, problem-solving, communication, leadership, trust, and camaraderie -- skills that are critical for a team to be successful, whether navigating the wild, windy, and wavy San Francisco Bay or navigating the complex, dynamic business world.

Based on the smiles, laughter, and comments during and after the course, I think it was a huge success!  Great job everyone!

If you'd like to put your team to the test, check out our program here:

http://ocscsailing.com/teambuilding/team-challenge

Darkened the photo to protect the innocent, but trust me, the group was all smiles during this team-building event on the SF Bay.

"You Do What?"

As the month of May drifts away, I record another 15 days of sea time in my logbook, slowly sailing my way to the required 360 days for a U.S. Coast Guard Captain's License.  I hope to reach the lofty goal by the end of the calendar year.

Most of my “sea time” these days is acquired by teaching Basic Keelboat (BK) and Basic Cruising (BC) courses at the OCSC Sailing Club in Berkeley, CA.  So I thought I’d write a bit about the club and job I love so much.

The primary objective of these courses is to train students to sail (BK) and skipper (BC) keelboats less than 30 feet in length.

We use the sturdy, agile, and popular J24 sailing vessel for training.  These boats are 24 feet long and 9 feet wide, with a 4-foot draft. They weigh 3,100 pounds, with about 900 of those pounds found in the keel.  They aren’t going to tip over, but they will heel significantly if you don’t manage the size and shape of the two sails. They are a ton of fun, with the tiller giving the helmsperson a real sense of the boat’s behavior.

The BK and BC courses each consist of 4 days of 7-hour classes on weekends, with most students requiring additional “reviews” to hone their on-the-water skills before satisfying the U.S. Sailing (and OCSC) certification standards.   We usually sail with 3 students and 1 instructor onboard.

Many (if not the majority) of our students have never stepped foot on a sailboat before. They may come to us to find a new weekend hobby, to learn something new with their partner, or to realize a life-long dream.  Some students have plans to skipper day sails on the Bay; some students want to charter boats in exotic locations for family vacations; and some students want to eventually sail around the world! Whatever their dreams are, they start at OCSC; they start with me.   And that is very motivating and exciting for me.

Students come from near and far, drawn by the school’s excellent reputation.  (This past weekend, for example, I taught a gentleman who came all the way from Alaska just to take the week-long version of our Basic Cruising course.)

Students come from all walks of life with respect to age, gender, sexual orientation, ethnicity, economic background, prior sailing experience, etc. which reflects positively on the school’s 40-year-old mission:  to make sailing accessible to anyone who is interested! We want to erase the image that sailing (and skippering) is for the rich, white, and male. It’s for anyone.

The OCSC Sailing School is known for its rigor, with a relentless focus on safety, fun, and learning.  We train in some of the toughest inland waters in the country, facing high wind, heavy traffic, and quick currents (not to mention confusing fog).  It’s the perfect recipe to build confidence in our students! I like to think that if you can sail on San Francisco Bay, you can pretty much sail anywhere.

Although I sailed a bit with family and friends over the years, my own formal sailing training came from OCSC in 2013, when I enrolled in same courses that I am now teaching!  It is a thrill for me to be in this position, working with students as they discover the joys (and challenges) of sailing, and as I discover the joy (and challenges) of teaching!

A fellow J24 sailing vessel out on the Bay.

Demonstrating heaving-to, and taking a quick break for photos.

Three Years, One Question

As April 2018 fades away, so does the three-year anniversary of my decision to chart a new course by pursuing a life of traveling, sailing, and volunteering, and leaving a successful career in corporate finance behind.

It was April 15, 2015, when I walked out of my office in downtown San Francisco. 

Although I had done some personal financial analysis and made a to-do list, I didn’t have an exact plan when I turned off my computer and handed in my badge.  As I took the elevator to the ground floor, I wondered whether the five-floor descent was a symbolic representation of what I was doing with my life – returning to the ground floor, giving up everything I’d worked so hard for during the last 15 years.  

I’ve come to realize the *actual* symbol appeared when those elevator doors opened:  I had the whole world in front of me and, more importantly, I was free to explore it.  No PTO to record.  No emails to answer.  No deadlines to worry about.  

It’s been three extraordinary years, punctuated by high points and low points, proud moments and doubtful moments. 

I’ve traveled deep not wide, spending more time in fewer countries rather than less time in more countries.  My trips are measured in months, not days or weeks.  I’ve lived with local families, helping them with their daily lives and giving back to the community I’m visiting.  

I’ve sailed across oceans and advanced my sailing certifications.  I now get paid to teach sailing, which makes me smile every time I think about it.  Soon, with a Captain’s license in hand, I might expand this “side hustle” to include skippering vacation charters or crewing on yacht deliveries.

Many people have said, “Dan, you’re living the dream.”  That’s not entirely accurate.  I am living a dream.  My dream.  

But, to be clear, it’s not all sunshine and roses; there are nightmarish moments in my dream.  I’ve been assaulted and robbed.  I’ve slept in some run-down hotels, met some oddball Airbnb hosts, and survived some crazy taxi (and tuk-tuk) rides.  I’ve been lost many times; lonely a few times.  I’ve faced “first world problems” of sacrificing expensive activities like sports events, concerts, and City dinners that'd I'd grown accustomed to attending without a second thought.  (I now meticulously track every dollar I spend - more on that in a subsequent post.)

What began as a trial period of 6-12 months has now become a way of life for me.  I don’t plan on going back to an office environment, or the long hours, politics, and stress that inevitably come with it.  I certainly miss the routine, the paycheck, and the social and intellectual aspects of the office, but I'm slowly figuring out alternative sources for these comforts.  

I may not have everything figured out, but who does anyway?  

One Day at a Time

In February, I posted a general outline of my plan for 2018.  A couple of months have quietly and quickly passed by.  I guess it’s time I provide an update!

The short version is, I’m on track.

In March, I completed the USCG Master 100-Ton License course at Columbia Pacific Maritime in Portland, Oregon.  The course spanned 10 consecutive days and included several written exams covering Navigation, General Deck, Rules of the Road, and Safety.  I also took two auxiliary exams to earn my Sailing endorsement and Towing endorsement.  The CPM school and its instructors were fabulous and come with my highest recommendation!

Now that I have passed the exams, the last major obstacle between me and the USCG Master License is time on the water, or “sea service.”  I need 360 days.  I’m at 280. 

So, I flew home to San Francisco in mid-March with one thing in mind:  sailing as much as possible this summer.  Not a bad to-do list, right?

Working with the OCSC Sailing School, I’ve expanded my scope as Sailing Instructor (I’m now qualified to teach both Basic Keelboat and Basic Cruising courses) enabling me to load up my schedule – teaching about four days a week.  I’ve already accumulated over 20 days since mid-March.  If I can teach about 15 days a month, I should be easily to reach 360 total days by the end of summer.

In September, I’m committed to skippering the 13-day sailing vacation in Croatia – so that will be the icing on the cake.  I’ll come back in the Fall and file my paperwork with the U.S. Coast Guard.

So, the plan remains as I outlined in February.  I’m slowly making progress against it, one day at a time, one sail at a time. 

So... What's Next?

A lot of people have asked me "What's next?"  I will share the answer in this post; but before I do, let's take a quick trip down memory lane.  It will help set the stage for what's next.

I started sailing seriously about 5 years ago, in the Spring of 2013.  I quickly fell in love with the sport and dreamed about building a career in sailing – as a sailing instructor, charter skipper, or yacht deliverer.  Or a combination of all three.

By the Spring of 2015, I assessed my professional, personal, and financial situation and decided to focus on making my dream a reality.  To the surprise of friends, family, and colleagues, I quit my  job in corporate finance and charted a new course for my life.  I built a financial plan and figured out a way to minimize my expenses and maximize my experiences, focusing on what makes me happy:  sailing, volunteering, and traveling.

At a macro level, my schedule revolved around sailing in San Francisco during the summer (when wind and weather is favorable) and volunteering in foreign countries in the winter (especially countries in the tropics or Southern Hemisphere).  Season to season, my cost of living and my daily routine swing wildly from one extreme to the other; but on an annualized basis, the lifestyle has proven to be manageable and affordable.

The volunteering and traveling is strictly for fun; I don’t have any master plan other than to explore cultures and help communities.  Sailing, however, is a different story.  I do a plan, or at least the dream, of making a career out of it.  So, I’ve been structured and disciplined in my efforts. 

Over the last several years, I’ve taken multiple courses from the OCSC Sailing School, earned certifications with U.S. Sailing, and chartered a variety of boats on the San Francisco Bay.  Thanks to a former instructor, and now good friend, I have also had the opportunity to complete over 60 days of blue-water ocean sailing, including four ocean crossings.

In January of 2017, I returned to the OCSC Sailing School and applied to be a Sailing Instructor.  After interviews, written exams, and on-the-water evaluations (by both OCSC and U.S. Sailing), I accomplished the first part of my three-part career in sailing:  I began work as a Sailing Instructor!

That’s the recap of my journey thus far.  So, now, “What’s next?" you ask.

My goal in 2018 is to apply for (and hopefully earn) a Captain’s License with the U.S. Coast Guard.  The license will facilitate, but by no means guarantee, accomplishing the second and third parts of my dream - skippering charters and delivering yachts (and, importantly, getting paid to do so).

Currently, I’m perfectly qualified to take any friends or guests out on a sailboat for the day, the night, or an extended period of time.  However, I’m not legally able to be paid for it (unless I’m working for an organization like OCSC Sailing School).  With my Captain’s License, I can be paid directly as an individual skipper.  Thus, I could buy a boat and offer to take people out on charter tours in the San Francisco Bay or elsewhere.  

The Captain’s License will also add further credibility to my Maritime CV.  This, in turn, will hopefully make me more noticeable and marketable to experienced yacht deliverers, who may be more likely to offer me work as Crew or First Mate.  Such experience ultimately might lead to skippering my own yacht deliveries.

So the Captain’s License is an important step in building my career as a sailing instructor, charter skipper, and yacht deliverer. 

So, how do I get a Captain’s License?  Well, it’s quite a process which I’ll outline at the bottom of this post.  The short answer is I need to log a lot of time on the water, and I need to pass a lot of exams.  This means I'll have to put a hold on my travels, for the most part.  

To complete the required 360 days of “sea service” as required by the U.S. Coast Guard, I will be staying put in the Bay Area, and teaching Basic Keelboat and Basic Cruising classes as much as possible at the OCSC Sailing School.  I’ve lined up an apartment in San Carlos as home base.

In March, I’ll head to Portland, Oregon, where I’ve enrolled in a highly-reputable and intensive 10-day “Captain’s License Course” to study and prepare myself for the written exams.

In September, I’ll head to Croatia where I’ll skipper another 2-week charter in the Adriatic Sea, similar to what I did in 2015 except this time I’m skippering a catamaran!  This will be a good  addition to my sea service as it counts toward more near-coastal and 50-ton experience.

By the end of the calendar year, I hope to have all of the documents, exams, and sea service required for submission to the U.S. Coast Guard.  Then I'll wait for the USCG to review and approve.  Or not.   

If all goes well, I'll begin 2019 as Captain Dan, less than four years after I hung up my hat as Corporate Dan.   It will a tough year of work, study, and discipline, but I feel good about the path, the process, and the prospects for the future.  

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For those interested, here’s a brief description of and requirements for a Captain’s License, which is a type of “Merchant Mariner Credential” with the U.S. Coast Guard.

Application, Fee, and Oath

I submit an application, pay a fee, and repeat an oath to the U.S. Coast Guard.  With my application, I submit proof of all of the following:

Transportation Worker Identification Credential

I need to apply for this credential, which is a very straightforward process including an online application, a fee, and an in-person appointment for fingerprinting.

Physical Exams

As you might expect, I’ll have to pass multiple physical tests to prove I’m physically capable of operating a vessel.   These include drug test, eye test, hearing test, and strength/balance test in additional to routine physical exam.

Written Exams

These cover a variety of topics like Rules of Road, Navigation, Deck Safety, and Deck General.  Since I want to be a captain on sailboats, I’ll also need to pass the Sailing exam, which is another series of questions.  There is no “practical exam” or “driving test” for the credential.  I guess the USCG assumes you can drive a boat if you’ve achieved your sea service time.

First Aid and CPR Training

Although I’m already certified, I have to re-certify so that my certification is within one year of my application to the U.S. Coast Guard.

California Boater Card

This is a new requirement rolling out in 2018 in California.  It requires an online course that takes several hours. It seems to target motorboat and jet ski operators, but it has useful rules-of-the-road information for sailors, too.

Character References

I’ll be searching for three people who are willing to submit brief, notarized statements declaring that I’m a responsible, capable person. 

Sea Service Form

I have to submit paper records documenting at least 360 days of “sea service” time.   This is why I’ve been keeping a logbook!  This is tough though.  A “day” is 4 hours.  But so is 8 hours or even 24 hours!  Even a 10-day passage from New Zealand to Fiji (sailing 24 hours a day for 10 days) is only 10 days despite being 240 hours!  This makes the accumulation much more time consuming.  Even days in San Francisco where I’ve done a day sail with one group, and a night sail with another group, is still only 1 day of sea time.  I’m approaching 300 days now, targeting to get to 360 by the end of the calendar year.

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After gathering all of the above, I then submit the package to the U.S. Coast Guard.  They will review, and if all goes well, they’ll issue me a Merchant Mariner Credential. 

The specific type of credential I'm applying for is the Boat Captain Credential, and even that credential has a few subcategories.  The two big ones are:

• Operator of Uninspected Passenger Vessel

This refers to a basic license I could get that would enable me to carry up to 6 paying passengers on a vessel.  So even on a 10-person boat, I can only carry 6-paying passengers.  This license is commonly referred to as “6-pack” and is typical for skippers driving a water taxi or launch. Not bad, but I ultimately would want to upgrade to “Master” which enables me to carry any number of paying passengers, up to the vessel’s capacity.

• Master Credential

The Master credential will remove the “paying passenger” restriction.  There are multiple variations of the Master credential based on Range (Inland, Near Coastal, Ocean) and Tonnage (25-, 50-, or 100-Ton).  These will be determined by the experience (called “sea service”) that I submit, which documents the vessels and locations that I have sailed.  I will initially qualify for Inland, 25-Ton, or maybe 50-Ton.  I'm ultimately targeting Near Coastal, 50-Ton. 

So that's it.  That's my plan for 2018.  It will be a year of focus and discipline to advance my career and enhance my future!  Like I've said, there is no guarantee but I'm going for it.

Aboard SV Avalon, somewhere in the South Pacific Ocean.

A Chile Wrap

Here's a final wrap on my trip to Chile.  (It's really just some notes for myself about what I did this last week, because I was completely lazy and just wandered around some smaller towns.  If I didn't write anything, I know I'd look back and think, "What the heck did I do for a week?")

I’ve been to Chile several times before, so my focus on this particular trip has been volunteering, not exploring.  But I couldn’t spend two months in any country without taking a little time to see new (or favorite) places.

So, after 7 weeks of volunteering on Isla Tenglo, I bid farewell to my host family, my neighbors, and my new friends, and I boarded a bus headed north.

I would stop at Concepcion and Chillan before heading to Santiago for my flight home.

The first leg was Puerto Montt to Concepcion.  I booked a $38 ticket for a premium cama (fully reclining) seat for the 8-hour trip.  Ironically, I actually didn’t sleep much, but rather just thoughtfully peered out the window enjoying the view of countryside and volcanos. 

About midway, I noticed dark smoke (not clouds) billowing above the mountains on the horizon. My first thought was a volcano had erupted.  But as we got closer, I could see it was a wildfire spreading through the dry farmland, with fire trucks and crews racing to control the blaze.  They diverted our bus to a detour route, once which would end up increasing our travel time by 2 hours. 

Finally in Concepcion, I took a cab to my Hotel Alborada.  The hotel had received good reviews online.  My experience, though, was a bit disappointing.  After an extended bus trip, I just wanted a long, hot shower.  No luck; no hot water.  The disappointment was partially offset by the breakfast buffet and central location.

The next day, I took a walk along the river front (Concepcion is located along the Biobio River) which has a bike path and a few small parks and memorials.  Then I headed toward the main plaza, weaving my way through the bustling streets.

For dinner, I spoiled myself and grabbed a table at Quijote, one of the best restaurants in town, located right on the Plaza de Independencia.  I ordered a huge steak, mashed potatoes, tomato and avocado salad, and two glasses of wine for $40 USD.  Not bad.

After dinner, I wandered down to Plaza Peru where there were quite a few cafés and bar with both indoor and outdoor seating.  I enjoyed my first official “michelada” (lager with lime juice and salted rim) before heading back to the hotel.  If I'd been traveling with friends, this might have been a cool spot to spend the evening out and about.

In the morning, after another breakfast buffet, I took a taxi back to the bus station for the next leg of my trip – a 2-hour bus ride to Chillan.  I had visited Chillan back in 2008, and had fond memories of it.

Arriving at the bus station in Chillan, just off Avenida Ecuador, I walked a few blocks back down Avenida O’Higgins to my hotel, Hotel Diego de Almargo.  (Conveniently, the bus had passed by the hotel on the way to the station, so I was able to spot it and navigate my way back on foot.)  The 10-story hotel appeared to be newly built, and offered modern amenities like a pool, sauna, and gym.  More importantly, though, the hotel had lots of hot water, and was easy walking distance to the bus station, the train station, and the main plaza.

After checking in, I headed out to the Plaza de Armas.  I was surprised to see the quaint, shady park covered in tents and kiosks.  As it turned out, there was a National Folklore and Craft Beer festival going on this weekend!  So much for eating healthy and getting rest.

I sat in the park and nibbled on kebabs, choripan, and beer, watching people and listening to music.  I walked through the shopping district and central market as well, but was quickly drawn back to the park.

In the morning, I enjoyed an even better breakfast buffet.  Satiated, I laced up my boots and walked around town, perusing the stalls and mini-restaurants in the “mercado.”  I ended up in the park again, washing down a choripan with a fruit smoothie and hoping they cancel each other out.

I remember in 2008, I had walked all the way down Avenida O’Higgins to Chillan Viejo.  I didn’t do that this time, but I remember it being a nice walk and a good way to spend the afternoon.  Something for next time.

I stopped by the train station in hopes of buying my ticket to Santiago for tomorrow morning, but the station was closed.  I headed back to the park for the evening and for more healthy eating of grilled meats and French fries.

In the morning, I was up early for breakfast at 7:00am, and headed to the train station with my bags at 7:45.  At 8:00am, the ticket office opened, only to inform me that the train was fully booked.  Damn!  I had been looking forward to the nice train ride.  (Most of the trains in Chile have been put out of service; this was one of the last remaining trains in operation, as I understand.)

I noticed a taxi loitering outside, so I hopped in and asked him to take me to the main bus terminal, where I would book a bus to Santiago.  I found one operated by EME that was leaving momentarily, with semi-cama seats available for $20 USD. Great!  I loaded my bag and hopped on – buying my ticket once we were moving.  I was in the far back corner, a window, which seemed like a good spot to be (other than having to awkwardly crawl over the man in the aisle seat).  Once I was in, great, footrest and recline….until the man in front of me reclined his seat almost onto my lap!  Ugh, I could barely raise my knees and felt very claustrophobic, especially when the air conditioning seemed to only work every 30 minutes or so.  I focused on watching the landscape and surfing the web – yes, the bus had WIFI thankfully (though no power supply).

I arrived in Santiago at 1:30pm, and again took a cab to my hotel.  I checked into the Hotel Sommelier Boutique, on Avenida Merced, and was pleasantly surprised.  The hotel was very nice, quaint, and definitely boutique.  It was centrally-located in Belle Arts, with a grocery store across the street. After settling in to my room on the “Sauvignon Blanc” floor, I took a walk to Plaza de Armas, through the mural-lined Barrio Bellevista to the café/bar lined of Avenida Pio Nono.  I enjoyed a curbside beer and “Thai Pollo” at a restaurant along the popular street.  Then I went back to the hotel and decided to just lounge in my room to watch the Super Bowl.  I ordered a salmon and avocado salad to go from a restaurant around the corner, but had difficulty eating it without a fork and difficulty tasting it without dressing (which I’d forgotten at the restaurant). 

The next morning, I enjoyed yet another breakfast buffet.  The buffet at this boutique hotel was a bit fancier than I need, offering gourmet pastries and dessert items.  I stuck to cereal, eggs, juices, and coffee. 

I spent the day and evening poking along the streets of Lastarria, Belle Arts, and Bellevista again, just enjoying my time in this large, international city.  I returned to the hotel early to pack my bags.  Tomorrow I return to the U.S.

On the morning of February 6th, I enjoyed my final breakfast buffet (and late checkout).  After a second coffee at the rooftop café in the hotel (which I forgot to mention is a cool feature), I ventured out for a final meal – I chose the “menu del dia” at the Utopia Restaurante on Lastarria.  It was good food at reasonable prices, good WIFI, and good street-scene (passers-by, vendors, etc.).

At 5:00pm, I went back to the hotel to watch the launch of the SpaceX Falcon Heavy, grabbed my backpack, and headed to the airport for my own take-off.  Although I wasn't headed to outer space, I did have second thoughts for a minute as we descended over the $5 billion donut-shaped, space-age headquarters in Cupertino, California.

(By the way, side note, the donuts in Chile are phenomenal.  Who would have guessed?  Granted, you should probably exercise caution before eating too many of these super-sweet, high fat-calorie delights.)

The week of exploring was just what I needed.  It was actually less about exploring, and more about just resting and reflecting on my time in Chile.  And what a good time it was.  All 8 weeks of it.  Thanks to everyone who was involved in hosting me, entertaining me, and helping me on Isla Tenglo.  I’ll miss you, but I know I’ll be back!

I'll miss waking up to this view on Isla Tenglo.

Bus trip to Concepcion was extended by 2 hours, as we detoured around a wildfire.

The crews fought vigorously to control the fire.

Fire endangered this small town.

Having made it to Concepcion, I walk along the boardwalk and enjoyed the view of Biobio River.

Coincidentally, there was a folklore and craft beer festival on the same weekend as my visit to Chillan.

The mini-restaurants in the 'mercado' in Chillan.

A staple food in Chillan - a choripan with all the trimmings.

Live performances of music and dance at the National Folklore Festival in Chillan.

Admiring the mural-lined streets of Barrio Bellevista in Santiago.

Donuts in Chile.

The cool new Apple headquarters looks like a silver donut... or flying saucer?

Time's Up on Tenglo

Since my last post, up through the end of January, I have continued with my duties on Isla Tenglo providing water taxi service for the B&B guests and tending to the lawns and gardens.

The weather has been outstanding – sunny and warm, with an occasionally southerly breeze or brief rainstorm to cool things off.  I’ve enjoyed spending time with Christian and his extended family who live on and/or visit the island.

After 7 weeks on the island, I’m also now recognized by and friendly with the locals – whether it’s the staff at Club Nautico Reloncavi (where I eat lunch every day), the other water taxi skippers (who take me back and forth to get the little boat I skipper), the shop owners (where I buy my staples), or random island residents (whom I pass on the path to/from work).  Everyone says “Hola” or “Buenas tardes” with a big smile.

It reminds me why I like this style of travel – staying put in one community for an extended period of time.  I’m not just interacting with people who are paid to be nice to me; I’m interacting with local people as they carry out their daily lives.   And I’m helping my host family run their business and care for their house, trying to make their lives a little easier for a few weeks. 

Because believe me, life isn’t exactly a vacation on Isla Tenglo.  It’s tough living, not resort living.

There is no front office, no security station, no guest services desk, no business center, and no health and wellness fitness room.  There aren’t really any community services like police or fire departments. There is a church, and I believe a school as well.  In general, residents and visitors alike must be self-reliant, resourceful, and resilient. 

I can’t speak for the few hundred people who live here full time, nor the few hundred more who come visit, but I know that for me, the tradeoff is that with the tough living also comes a raw beauty, tranquility, and isolation that is very appealing – as well as the satisfaction of ‘making it’ on your own.  (It’s similar to the appeal of sailing.)

Back home in San Francisco, I never even think about whether I’ll have hot water, WIFI, or heat. On Isla Tenglo, it’s different.  We don’t take these luxuries for granted.  They require constant monitoring and care.  Do we have enough propane in the tank to heat the water?  Is the water pump itself in good working order?  Do we have dry wood for the wood-burning stove?  Do we have too many appliances turned on at once?  (This only happened once, when we had two space heaters, a toaster, and microwave all going at once – the draw on power was too much and the circuit breaker shut off.  Easy to reset, but reminded us we need to be careful.) 

We are lucky that Casa Roja and Punta Piedras are only steps from the beach.  We only have to walk a short distance with heavy grocery or garbage bags.  Many families have to haul their groceries and garbage up and down the hill – mostly by hand or wheelbarrow, as there are only a couple of 4-wheel drive trucks I’ve seen on the island.

We plan our activities around the tides and weather.  High tide means a shorter walk to the house, as the 10-15 foot tidal change can add an extra 30 meters to your walk (across a slippery rocky beach).  Low tide is a good time to inspect boat mooring lines anchored to the seabed, to collect shellfish among the rocks, or to pick up garbage from the beach that washed ashore at high tide.  

The weather here at the north end of Patagonia is unpredictable, and changes rapidly.  Numerous times I’ve had to take a break from my mowing, pruning, or composting to let a small rainstorm pass overhead.  A few times I’ve suspended my ‘taxi service’ because of the high winds and choppy waves.  One day it rained, then hailed, and then was sunny – all within a span of 30 minutes!  I’ve learned to always carry by waterproof jacket and pants, an extra upper layer, and my fleece hat in my backpack wherever I go… just in case.  That south wind is cold!

The weather can get pretty nasty, with gusty wind in particular.  We had a power line go down in December because of the high winds breaking a large tree branch.  Another day we had a tree fall onto the deck, with only the lighter-weight branches hitting the house.  Either event could have been a lot worse!  (A side benefit of the tree falling down was we ended up with a lot of firewood that will be dry by this winter, hopefully.) 

There are a couple of small stores on the island.  I use the term ‘store’ loosely.  These generally take the form of a storage shed in someone’s front yard, stocked with a small selection of canned and dry goods, bottled beverages, and some fresh local vegetables and eggs.  I walk up to the house, ring the doorbell, and whoever answers then escorts me over to the shed where I do my shopping.  The inventory is hit or miss, as are the operating hours.  Several times, I’ve tried to go shopping, but no one is home.  Other times I’ve gone only to find key staples (fresh vegetables, pasta, or beer) are out of stock.  

If I’m not providing my own taxi service, I use the local (professional) boat taxi service – but they only operate during daytime, so we plan our outings to the mainland accordingly.  No late nights out in Puerto Montt, or we’re sleeping on the docks!  Actually, we are fortunate to have the friendly staff of Club Nautico Reloncavi who will take us to the island as a last resort if the boat taxis have stopped running.  And Christian’s Beneteau 44 sailing yacht is at the dock; I slept on the boat a few times for convenience if I’m providing late-night or early-morning crossings for guests on the little boat.

My gardening responsibilities are seemingly endless.  It’s summer now and things are growing like crazy.  I can barely keep up.  Just when I finish mowing the expansive lawn at one of the houses, it’s time to mow the lawn at the other house.  I’ve been trying to compost the grass cuttings, but even the compost piles are getting overrun by grass cuttings.  I need more ‘brown’ stuff, but nothing in Patagonia is brown right now – it’s green, green, green. 

Life on Tengo Island teaches you to be resourceful. You have to improvise sometimes, and make things work until you can get to the mainland again.  In this regard, it’s like sailing.  You have to be self-reliant and use what you have around you.

The other day, a neighbor invited me in for coffee.  I watched her make shrimp empanadas.  She used an empty wine bottle as a rolling pin, and a small plate on its side as a dough cutter.  I watched another neighbor use a huge piece of styrafoam as a dinghy to paddle to his boat anchored offshore. 

Reduce, reuse, and recycle.  These words have never been more true when you live on a small island. 

So it is not easy living – but the rewards are worth the effort.

On Isla Tenglo, you are immersed in nature.   The plant life is all encompassing -- from bright green ferns to towering trees, from colorful flowers to ripening berries and apples.  There is playful marine life, like sea lions and penguins, and traditional livestock like cows, pigs, sheep, and chickens.  And as I’ve mentioned, the weather and tides are part of daily life that you can’t ignore.

The community is welcoming, friendly, and supportive. Everyone I walk by on the island says “Hola” or “Buenos dias.”  People help each other.  We gave a neighbor a ride to the mainland the other day.  A gentleman repositioned the boat for me as the tide receded faster than I’d anticipated.  A neighbor invited me to sit out on her front lawn the other day to enjoy the view overlooking the channel.

The feeling of separation, even isolation, from the hustle and bustle of Puerto Montt is quite unique.  Life is stripped down to what's necessary.  Luxuries may not be material things, but natural things, like a sunny day that dries your laundry quickly or a gentle breeze that dries the sweat from your brow.  It’s a bit like stepping back in time, or at least slowing down time. 

Unfortunately, though, time keeps going, and my time on Tenglo Island is up.  I’ve been here 7 weeks, and have enjoyed my time with fantastic people on this amazing little island.  But I have to get back to my own life in San Francisco.  So, after a couple of tasty farewell dinners (homemade gnocchi and traditional asado - gracias!), I'm headed north to Santiago by bus, taking about a week to poke along a few smaller towns before catching my flight home.

I’ll miss Tenglo, but I’m comforted by knowing I’ll be back again someday.  Hasta lluego!

Taking a stroll along one of the roads on Isla Tenglo.

Beach walk at low tide.

Beach walk at low tide.

Up on the ridge, overlooking the south side of Isla Tenglo.

Relaxing at Club Nautico Reloncavi (on the mainland), waiting for guests to arrive.  This part of the job isn't very tough.  

On the mainland, I hiked up a long set of stairs to the ridge, overlooking Isla Tenglo and the Club Nautico Reloncavi.

On the mainland, I hiked up a long set of stairs to the ridge, overlooking Isla Tenglo and the Club Nautico Reloncavi.

Christian preparing the barbecue in his front yard.

Christian grilling all kinds of meats!

The view from my little room in Casa Roja.  I'll miss it!

Back and Forth I Go

Not a ton to report this week.  I’ve fallen into a routine of providing the water taxi service as needed throughout the day, followed by restful evenings on the deck or in the living room at Casa Roja.  

If I have a long break in between channel crossings, I’ll try to do some yardwork around the house – checking the boat every 30-60 minutes to make sure the ebbing tide hasn’t left the boat stranded on the beach.  I admit, one day this happened and I was very embarrassed!  I had forgotten to set my timer and the time slipped away from me.  About 90 minutes had passed before I raced down to the beach, only to find the boat stuck on dry land! It took three of us to get her back into the water.

Although the week has been sort of ‘routine’, it has been far from slow.  The last week has seen a flurry of activity, driven not only by a rotation of guests in both Bed & Breakfast locations, but also by preparation for the upcoming Chiloe Regatta 2018. 

For the Bed & Breakfast business, these means welcoming guests at the yacht club, taking them across the channel, and escorting them to either Punta Piedras or Casa Roja.  I help them with their luggage too.  I’ve been amazed at some of the large suitcases I’ve had to lug up and down the beach!  Tomas says that a lot of Argentinians come to Chile for shopping, because it’s cheaper.  That might explain some of these oversized bags.  The B&B business has been good, so that means a lot of back and forth with guests.  But it also means a lot of back and forth with groceries and garbage!  (I haven't gotten a boot-full of water this week, so I must be getting better at this gig.  The bummer is I found out the boat is too small in length to qualify as a proper vessel for my sea service log that I will submit to the US Coast Guard this year.)

In addition, the Chiloe Regatta 2018 is coming at the end of the month.  I’ve heard about 100 boats are participating.  The yacht club and marina has seen a lot of activity as the boats and crew get ready.  There is an after-race party at the yacht club, as well as some private viewing-parties aboard local yachts.  I’ve helped with some of the stocking-up of the yacht club kitchen and storage room with the necessary supplies.  I’m sure I’ll be helping with the event at the yacht club (or on the boats) in some fashion.  We’ll see.

On Sunday, after an early morning taxi run across the channel, I took the rest of the day off. I had planned to go sailing on Christian’s Beneteau 44, but decided my body needed to rest.  I took the local bus into town, walked along the promenade, and ate a huge lunch of Lomo a lo Pobre (steak, eggs, fries).  I came back to Isla Tenglo and hung out with some neighbors and friends in their yard.  It was a beautiful, warm, summer day!

Taxi anyone?

Along the promenade in Puerto Montt.  That's Isla Tenglo in the background.

The promenade in Puerto Montt.

Lomo a lo Pobre (steak, eggs, fries).  Yes, I ate it all.  

A typical evening after work.  Pasta, wine, internet, and a fantastic view of the garden and bay.

Did Someone Call a Taxi?

The Casa Roja Bed & Breakfast is in full swing. We’ve had a house full of guests, including the owner of the house, for the last week.  I’ve been sleeping on Christian’s sailboat to make room for the guests.

Due to the rain last week, my grass-cutting responsibility has been on hold.  But early this week, the sun came out and I spent two days cutting the grass and pruning the bushes at both houses.  The properties look great.  I wish I had been able to finish before the guests arrived to provide a great first impression … but not much I can do about the crazy unpredictable weather around here!

My primary responsibility, though, is transferring the guests to and from the island in the 12-foot aluminum motor boat.  I also take Christian and the rest of our staff (consisting of Christian’s wife, son, and son’s girlfriend) back and forth.  In both cases, there is usually quite a bit of cargo as well – either suitcases for guests, or groceries and garbage for the staff. 

The transfer itself is not so difficult.  Yes, there can be a lot of wind and chop, and there is a lot of boat traffic – fishing boats, tug boats, sail boats, and other taxi boats.  We have some marine life to watch out for too – penguins casually swimming about, and sea lions playing in the water or napping on the large, flat-topped mooring buoys.  Coming from windy, busy San Francisco Bay, I’m used to most of this – except for the penguins.

Even the docking at the marina is straightforward.  We generally have a reserved space, alongside one of the dock fingers.  Because of the regatta happening at the end of the month, the marina is quickly filling with boats though, and we are likely to lose our prime spot.  But still, it’s not difficult to dock this little motorboat.

The trickiest part of the transfer is the landing on the island itself.  We don’t have a dock or pier.  We land directly on the rocky beach.  We have 3 or 4 different landing spots depending on the tides and wind.  It took me a while (and a few boots-full of water) before I mastered the beach landing – approaching the beach at the right speed and angle so that I can cut the engine and raise it out of the water before the propeller hits the shallow rocky bottom, and still have enough speed so that the bow just gently glides up onto the beach.  A few times I’ve stopped short and either rowed to shore or stepped off into deeper water than I’d anticipated (hence the boots full of water comment). 

On the approach, I also have to watch out for submerged boulders and lines.  There are a bunch of other boats tied up at the beach with lines running out to buoys offshore.  These lines can be at varying depths depending on the tide, so it’s not just a matter of knowing where they are, but also knowing approximately how deep they are at a given time.

The most time-consuming (and nerve-wracking) task though is managing the anchoring of the boat once I’m on the island.  For example, once I land with the guests, I’ll anchor the boat and help them with their luggage to either Punta Piedras or Casa Roja.  I might then stick around one of the houses and do some work in the yard.  But, because of the big tidal change here – anywhere from 10 to 15 feet – I have to constantly go down to the beach and check on the boat anchor.  (I go check every 30-60 minutes depending on tide height, wind, etc.)

If the tide is coming in, I have to make sure I have enough line between the anchor and bow, and enough line running from the anchor up the beach.  If the tide is going out, I have to make sure I keep resetting the anchoring further and further out so that the boat doesn’t get beached.  (I’ll see if I can post a video of the anchoring process.) 

Now, with my sailing background, I’ve been trained on calculations to help with all of this.  But, I still feel uneasy given the nature of conditions around here.  I’m still getting familiar with the slope of the beach, and the location of boulders and lines.  If I’m not careful I could easily anchor the boat in what seems to be a safe spot at high tide, only to realize I’m boxed in by lines or boulders as the tide goes out. 

I also have to pay attention to wind shifts.  On several occasions, the wind has shifted, so I’ve had to move the boat to a different anchorage midday.

As you might imagine, this becomes difficult when I’m simultaneously trying to mow the lawn, or do other work around the house – and then my 30- or 60-minute alarm goes off and I walk down the hill to check on the boat, always with that slight worry of seeing the boat stuck high up on the beach, or worse, drifting down the channel on its own.

But, so far so good.  From time to time, I’ll take a break and take the boat back to the yacht club, where I can enjoy the fast WIFI, tasty lunch, and pleasant view of the marina.  Here, I can dock the boat worry-free and just relax.

Apart from working in the garden and running the boat taxi service, I’ve been spending my time chatting with guests and staff, enjoying evening barbecues on the deck at Casa Roja, and taking casual strolls along the beach and hillside.

The little motorboat I'm using for the taxi service, along with the wooden ramp I put out to help guests board without getting their feet wet.  And life vests on board for everyone!

The beach at low tide.  I took a few pictures of landing spots to study the location of hazards like submerged boulders and lines at higher tides.

Here you can see a mooring line that, at higher tide, would be submerged and hazardous to our propeller!

Making my landing at high tide, still having to navigate around the lines from other boats.

Again navigating my way up to the rocky beach, avoiding the mooring lines from neighboring boats.  

Here we are at the dock at Club Nautico Reloncavi on the mainland.

One morning I went with David to help on this beautiful Swan 82.  We were going to rig the headsails and fill up with fuel.  But there was too much wind to hoist the sails at the dock.  And the fuel dock was closed for repairs.  0-2.  Bummer.

The beach in front of Casa Roja at sunset.

Cruising back to the Marina at sunset.

I live by this tide chart now, monitoring the timing of high and low tides, and the change in height of tide.  Using the rule of twelfths just like I was taught! Thanks #0CSC.

Open for Business!

The new year has started, and so have the Bed & Breakfast services at Casa Roja!  We have spent the week getting the house ready... after welcoming in 2018, that is.

The week kicked off with a New Year’s Eve party at Casa Roja. Several friends and extended family of Tomas arrived with arms full of food and drink.  Since the boat taxi doesn’t run past 9:00pm, guests brought sleeping bags or made other sleeping arrangements on Isla Tenglo. 

The party was an all-night affair complete with barbecued steak, sausages, and vegetables; seafood pasta; and all kinds of appetizers, salads, and desserts.  Food was complemented with wine, beer, and a local favorite “piscola” (Pisco and Coke). 

It was a chilly night but most of the party took place on the front deck, overlooking the channel full of ship lights reflecting off the dark water.  At midnight, instead of watching fireworks, we watched the slow burn of red flares launched from around the marina across the channel.

In the morning, I was the first person awake (probably because I was one of the first to go to bed), so I spent an hour or two clearing up and washing the dishes.  Due to my limited cooking skills, my role in the kitchen is usually washing dishes.  I don’t mind; I even find it somewhat therapeutic.

The rest of the day was sort of lost; we just took it easy, lounging around the house on the comfortable sofas or outside deck.  We knew that January was going to be a busy month – Casa Roja was opening as a Bed & breakfast! 

Christian has already been running a Bed & Breakfast service at his house (utilizing his two backyard cabanas) called “Punta Piedras.”  As the local manager for Casa Roja (the owner is based in England, and is only here part-time during the summer), Christian has also set up this house for Bed & Breakfast service, using AirBnb and Booking for reservations.  Look us up!

We already have guests lined up for a few weeks in January, starting this first week.  So, after a day of recovery from NYE, we began some serious preparation.

We cleaned the bedrooms and bathrooms, setting them up with fresh linens and basic supplies.  We organized the kitchen, making sure the guest-dedicated dishes were clean and ready.  We talked about roles and responsibilities, guest expectations, complementary services (e.g., breakfast) and premium services (e.g., lunch, dinner, excursions). 

Island life is not easy.  Simple tasks – like going to the grocery store for supplies – take more time and energy than normal.  When Tomas and I went grocery shopping, it took nearly half a day because of logistics like crossing the channel to/from the mainland and walking from the beach up to the house while managing a grocery load of 10-15 bags!  Remember, we don’t have cars on the island! 

We don’t have garbage service, either.  So yes, every few days, we haul 2-3 trash bags from the two houses, across the channel, and to the dumpsters at the yacht club. 

Frequently, we have to plan our activities around the weather. That may be less about life on an island and more about life in Patagonia.  The weather changes constantly!  It rained a lot this week, which confined us to indoor chores. 

But, during the short breaks in the rain, I was able to head outside and tackle a few jobs.  The biggest job was pruning the hydrangeas and clearing the pathway to the red cabana. (The Casa Roja “estate” really has 3 buildings:  the main house, with 3 bedrooms, 4 bathrooms; the red cabana, with 1 bedroom, 1 bathroom; and what I call “the barn,” or storage shed, which has a dormitory-style room above it with 3 beds and a half-bath.)  Side benefits of this job included getting fresh-cut flowers for the house, as well as more material for my composting efforts.

I also gathered the chopped wood from the tree that had fallen on the house, and moved it to the covered wood shed at the side of the barn.  It would hopefully be dry in time for the winter months later this year.

The lawn needed cutting again, but with the heavy rains the last 3-4 days, the lawn was too wet.  As much as I wanted to have it neatly cut for the guests, I'd have to wait another day or two.

As part of the preparation for the guests, I moved my stuff out of Casa Roja and onto Christian’s 42-foot sailboat at the yacht club marina.  I would sleep on the boat for the next few weeks, to make room for the paying guests at the house.  Also, this would facilitate my key responsibility: running the boat taxi service using Christian’s 12-foot motor boat (also housed at the yacht club).  By staying on Christian’s sailboat, I’d be ready to take the little boat over to the island anytime a guest needed to come to the mainland, and vice versa – when they arrive at the club, I’m right there ready to greet them and take them to the island.  As a side benefit, the club has hot showers, fast WIFI, and tasty lunch service).

The first guests were actually staying at Punta Piedras, not at Casa Roja.  They were a family of 4 living in northern Chile.  I ferried them back and forth to the mainland a few times, but the biggest adventure was taking the father, Carl, on a 3-hour fishing expedition around the other side of Isla Tenglo!  We didn’t catch anything but we had great weather and calm seas, and we saw a lot of seals, pelicans, and penguins.

Our first guests at Casa Roja arrived Saturday, all the way from Montreal, Canada, and stayed for a couple of nights.  Tomas had returned to Santiago for a few days to work on a music recording, so Blanca and I took care of the guest services.

At this point, the weather was starting to improve and the house was really looking good.  We were quite literally open for business – a good thing because we have two more reservations coming up next week!

We also have a very special guest arriving Sunday – the owner of Casa Roja!  Jasmin, and her friend Polly, will be joining us for the month!

The "breakfast" part of Bed & Breakfast.  (The bread and coffee are on the counter behind me, in case you're analyzing what's missing.  Eggs and fresh juice are also available as premium options.)

The "bed" part of Bed & Breakfast.  Nice view!

Preparing seafood pasta for New Year's Eve!

Before trimming the hydrangeas.

After trimming the hydrangeas.  Showing the path to the cabana.

Skippering the fishing expedition around the other side of Isla Tenglo.

Hard at work.

Sail and Deliver!

The highlight of my second week on Isla Tenglo was actually getting *off* the island and helping Christian’s son-in-law, David, with a yacht delivery.  (David works at the shipyard at Club Nautico Reloncavi as marine engineer / mechanic / boat manager / general handyman.  If you have a boat problem, David is your guy to fix it.)

On this occasion, the owner of a new 58-foot Beneteau wanted his yacht moved from Marina del Sur in Puerto Montt down to the city of Castro, on the island of Chiloe.  It was about a 100-nautical mile passage. 

From Castro, the owner and his guests would join the boat and sail further south for a couple of weeks – with David staying onboard as skipper/navigator/engineer.  Unfortunately, the rest of the delivery crew – me, Tomas, and Blanca – had to disembark at Castro and drive the owner’s minivan back to Puerto Montt.

We left Casa Roja on Monday morning, December 25.  Yes, Christmas day.  We met David at Christian’s house, and took a boat taxi to the mainland.  At the Club Nautico Reloncavi, we picked up David’s sailing gear from his boat, “Catch the Wind”, and drove up the road to Marina del Sur.

There, we boarded the Beneteau, “Homero II.”  As far as Beneteaus go, she was a beauty.  Sleek and modern, with all the bells and whistles, including electric winches, two headsails, dual helms, bow thruster, bluetooth stereo with Bose speakers, and a television and wet bar that rise out of the cupboards with a push of a button.  She was probably more an island cruiser instead of an open blue water boat; but for this deliver, that was just fine.  There was also a separate “crew quarters” (with 2 berths and a head) in the bow.  This is where David would sleep during the longer passage, while the owner and guests would enjoy the 3 bedrooms, 3 heads, and huge salon and galley. 

We stowed our gear, removed sail and instrument covers, topped off the water supply, and pretty quickly cast off the lines, with the help of a few guys from the marina.  David manages this boat, and sails these waters regularly, so he didn’t need the prep time that I might need if I was chartering this boat for the same passage.

Our first day was going to be a short 4-hour sail down to the island of Puluqui, where Christian’s family owns a small cottage.  (I spent a lot of time here two years ago helping them insulate, sand, and paint the house.)

With 20 knots of wind behind us, we unfurled the large genoa headsail and sailed along at 7-8 knots.  We didn’t even hoist the mainsail.  (Or, actually, the proper term would be “unfurl the mainsail” since this boat had an in-mast furling mainsail.  Not my favorite setup.)

As we approached Puluqui, we had to keep a sharp lookout for chorito (mussel) farms which consist of a lot of floats and buoys, as well as underwater lines.   The entrance to the cove on Puluqui was especially difficult since we arrived just after low tide, and there was a shallow line strung across the entrance of the cove, from the beach to an offshore chorito farm.  We took 3-4 approaches to make sure we got it just right and didn’t snag our propeller on the line.  Well done David!

We then coasted up to one of the mooring balls.  David stopped the boat, while Tomas and I picked up the mooring ball and ran our bowline through the splice.  We tied off the bowline, shut off the engine, and we were set.  We enjoyed a beer as a small rain storm passed overhead.  Then we splashed the dinghy, packed up food for a barbecue, and headed ashore.

We took a quick tour of the cottage, which was pretty much just as I remembered it – but David has now laid concrete and piping for the bathroom that is in-progress.  Then we headed out back to the “quincho” – a small structure with a vented roof and big barbecue pit in the center of the floor.

We lit a fire, cleaned the grill, and had a traditional “asado” with different kinds of meat, supplemented with cold beer, red wine, and some pisco.  It was such a great setting to have the lawn and trees outside, rain and wind blowing, and yet we were tucked away in the quincho toasting by the fire, enjoying the food and beverages.

We headed back to the boat later that night for sleeping.  (The cottage isn’t yet ready for accommodation.)

The next morning came early.  We had a long transit ahead of us – nearly 80 nautical miles – so David wanted to start early.  I missed my alarm, but awoke when David fired up the engine at 6:30am.  By the time I had dressed, he’d already cast off the bowline line from the mooring ball.  I helped guide us out of the cove, around the chorito farms again.

David and I stood watch, enjoying some hot coffee and the sunrise, while Tomas and Blanca continued to sleep.

There was absolutely no wind, so we motored the entire day.  That was kind of a bummer, but the Beneteau’s engine is pretty quiet so it wasn’t that bad.  If anything, it made it easy to sit back and enjoy the scenery as we weaved our way in-between islands and waved to boats we passed.

At one point, a small pod of dolphins swam alongside us, playing in our bow wake.  By the time I got my GoPro out, they had pretty much had enough. 

Tomas and Blanca cooked some great meals that day – breakfast of eggs, ham, and toast; lunch of build-your-own tacos, using leftovers from yesterday’s barbecue. 

We arrived in Castro about 5:30pm, and anchored just off the center of town.  We packed up our stuff, cleaned the boat, enjoyed a cold beer while we waited for the owner to arrive.  Upon the owner’s arrival on shore, David shuttled us to shore, and then shuttled the owner and guests onto the boat.  I watched with a bit of envy as the 8 or 9 guests dinghied back to the big boat.  They were in for a fun adventure the next couple of weeks!  And David too!

Tomas, Blanca, and I had made a reservation at a local Airbnb for the night, since we knew it would be too late to head all the way back to Puerto Montt.  We packed our bags into the van, and drove off, in search of our Airbnb.  It was a “palafito” or "home on stilts," so we knew it was nearby.  As it turns out, it was literally 3 houses down from where we had landed ashore and picked up the minivan.  We did a double-take as we drove right by the house – so we did a quick U-turn and parked right back where we had started and walked to the house.

Violeta showed us the nicely-equipped and centrally-located palafito.  From the balcony, overlooking the water, we could actually see Homero II.  We texted David, and waved to him, laughing that we were so close.

That night we had a delicious dinner at a restaurant nearby, called Mercadito.  I had a big bowl of choritos, which seemed appropriate having spent the last 2 days sailing by so many mussel farms.

The following day, we packed up and made the 3-hour drive back to Puerto Montt.  We stopped in town to do some grocery shopping, and then headed back to the yacht club where we parked the van and took the water taxi back to Isla Tenglo and Casa Roja. 

It was great to be back on the island, but I couldn’t help but wonder how David was doing on the trip south through the islands.  It’s exactly the kind of thing I want to do part-time.

The next few days, we stayed around Casa Roja, catching up on projects like weed-whacking, stirring the compost pile, and general house cleaning. 

We did have one other bit of excitement when one windy evening a large tree from the neighbor’s house blew over, and crashed into the side of Casa Roja!  Some of the top branches and leaves actually hit my bedroom window.  Nothing broke, thankfully.  The next day Tomas had to go to the neighbor to arrange for clean-up.   Sure enough, a guy came by with a chainsaw a few hours later and cut away the tree.  We were left with some new firewood – well, it won’t be dry for a few months I guess.

Tomas and Blanca continued with their great cooking.  The highlight this week was some tasty lamb ribs and lentil stew.  Gracias! 

The coming week will be quite active.  We host a New Year's Eve party at Casa Roja.  Then (after cleaning of course) we convert the house into a Bed & Breakfast and welcome several guests over the next few weeks.  Stay tuned!

Excited for a yacht delivery in Patagonia!

Pretty much brand new 58-foot Beneteau, Homero II.  The enclosed cockpit is very useful when sailing in Patagonia, where there is a lot of rain and cold wind.

Spacious interior!

Big galley.

First day sailing in 20 knots of wind from behind us, so we unfurled the genoa.

Moored at Isla Puluqui.

The quincho where we had a barbecue brewing inside.

The blue cottage.  I helped insulate, sand, and paint this house two years ago!

Getting the grill ready inside the quincho.  Also drying my foul weather gear in the background.

Grilling different kinds of meat.

Skipper and delivery crew.

Finishing up with some Pisco.

Underway early on Day 2.

We made it to Castro.  Anchored off the main promenade.

The view from our palafito (house on stilts).  We could see Homero!

Showing part of our track on day 1 to Isla Puluqui.

Showing part of our track on Day 2 up to Castro.

Anchored in Castro, saying goodbye!

Mmm ceviche at Mercadito.

A bowl of choritos (mussels).

Back at Casa Roja later that week, Tomas and Blanca fixed a nice meal - lamb ribs and lentil stew.

Off to a Strong Start, Almost...

My first week at on Isla Tenglo has been a bit of roller coaster, with one big up and then one big down.  Perhaps I was a little over zealous and wore myself out, as I tend to do.

I arrived on Friday, December 15, which happened to be the night of the yacht club’s Staff Holiday Party.  Excited, I dropped my bags off on Christian’s sailboat and immediately started helping with the setup, moving sofas and chairs, setting the tables, and testing the cold beer.

After a couple of hours, though, I realized how tired I was, having traveled over 24 hours without sleeping.  I used my better judgment and bowed out of the party before it started (and before those fresh mussels and empanadas were ready for sampling).  I picked up my bags, took the water taxi over to Isla Tenglo, and let myself into Casa Roja.  It was only 7pm, but I had no problem falling asleep!

Saturday was a quiet day.  The rain came and went, then came again.  It reminded me how quickly the weather can change here in Patagonia.  It actually hailed for a bit in the morning, and then within 20 minutes, the sun was shining and the front deck was dry!  Amazing.

I took the day to unpack and get re-acquainted with the area.  I took the water taxi over to the mainland and bought some basic supplies from the little store next to the yacht club.  On my way home, I was lucky that friends Veronica and Bernard were on their way to the island with a lot of leftovers from the party.  I helped them with their boxes and bags, in exchange for a free ride over to the island.  We made it just before the rain set in.

Sunday morning, relaxing in the living room at Casa Roja with a cup of tea, I was greeted by Christian’s son, Tomas, who had made the bus trip down from Santiago.  He would be staying here a few weeks with me.  Fantastic!  It would be great to have company. 

The weather cooperated Sunday, with bright sunny skies.  Tomas and I immediately got to work. Things grow quickly here in Patagonia and the spacious yard of Casa Roja needed some attention.

I mowed the massive lawn, while Tomas built a handrail along the pathway leading up to the house. We hoped the handrail would help prop-up the beautiful Calla Lilies that once lined the path, but that now lay ON the path due to damage from recent frost and/or hail.  But no luck. 

We ended up making the decision to prune back the long stretch of flowery plants.  We saved a handful of the flowers, and made arrangements for a few of the rooms in the house.

I continued with some other pruning around the yard while Tomas started prepping for dinner.  We were hosting an election dinner tonight!  Yes, it was Chile’s presidential election. 

Tomas did all the work on dinner, preparing a feast of small dishes – mussels, salmon, meatballs, salad.  My most important contribution was defrosting the homemade pisco sour mix, and serving the frothy, icy drinks around the room.  In typical fashion, since I rarely do the cooking, I managed the clean-up and dish-washing process. 

The election itself was quite interesting – especially how the votes were counted manually and read aloud, one by one, all 6 million of them.   The phone call between candidates was televised, and the concession/victory speeches were made side-by-side; both different than in the US elections.

As if the election wasn’t exciting enough, toward the end of the evening the wind picked up a bit and then… crash!  A tree branch broke, fell on a power line!  The power line snapped and fell to the ground.  We still had power and no one was hurt, thankfully.  Nothing could be done now, this late in the evening.  But we called the power company and the next day a team came out to fix it.

Over the next couple of days, we tackled a few more projects around the house.  I was focused on removing the ivy from the wall of Casa Roja.  It took me a day and a half, with some precarious balancing and creative use of tools, but I did it.  That ivy is tough!  We will have to sand and repaint the wall, but Christian said that’s ok – he’d rather do that than have the ivy provide a potential nesting place for rats and spiders.  (I didn’t see any rats but I certainly came face to face with a few spiders!) 

Tomas was constantly busy too, but my favorite accomplishment was his making/baking two fantastic loaves of bread!  Gracias Tomas!

Those first days were fantastic. It was great to be back here on Isla Tenglo working outside.  The weather was beautiful!  Not winter this time!  (See my entries from 2015. Cold.)

Then, just when I felt we were really on a roll, on Tuesday evening I started feeling a little ill.  I went to bed early hoping it would pass, but Wednesday morning I woke up and hit the wall.  My nose was stuffy and I felt horrible. 

I stayed in bed the next 3 days, surviving on hot tea with lemon and honey, canned peaches and peas, and pasta with olive oil and oregano - and sleeping 18 hours a day.  Christian and Lali brought me some medicine that helped, too.

It’s now Saturday morning and I think I’m on the road to recovery.  I'm feeling much better.  I went outside today for the first time in 3 days.  We had to haul our garbage off the island.  If that doesn't cure me, I don't know what will! :-)  Hey, that's island life.  

Stay tuned for next week... I'm scheduled to help deliver a yacht down the coast!  

Happy holidays everyone!

Before moving the lawn.

After.

Before cutting back the Calla Lilies.

After.

Before ivy removal.

After.

We put some of the flowers to good use around the house. :-)

Flying South for the Winter

I'm sitting at the San Francisco International Airport, awaiting my flight down to Chile.  It's going to be a long trek.  San Francisco to Dallas, 3 hour layover.  Dallas to Santiago, 3 hour layover.  Santiago to Puerto Montt, taxi and boat to the island community of Isla Tenglo.  It will take about 28-30 hours, I imagine.

I'm looking forward to returning to Isla Tenglo and la Casa Roja.  I was here in 2015, on my first major trip after resigning from the corporate world.  I've timed my trip a bit better this year.  In 2015, I visited in late winter / early spring, and it was cold!  This time, I'm coming at the beginning of summer!  Yes!

Back home in San Carlos, I've had a crazy last 24 hours.  Even a crazy last week or so.  Here's a quick summary.

After my previous renters moved out, I made some minor repairs and touch-ups around the house.  I re-organized my offsite storage unit, and then paid movers to move the rest of my furniture into the storage unit.  It's fair to say my storage unit is FULL now, as is my backyard shed and my garage.  I'll look forward to this summer when I'm in the SF Bay Area teaching sailing, but can also spend some time sorting through (and throwing out) a portion of my belongings.

So now, with a nice clean house, I have been trying to rent it.  But no luck. People seem too busy with the Holidays to be in the rental market.  So I resorted to hiring a real estate agent to handle the process while I'm traveling.  

Unfortunately she'll be handling a few other things I wasn't able to take care of.  I wasn't able to sell my kitchen table and chairs.  We'll leave it for the next renter, or my agent will have to dispose of it somehow.  Worse, the night before leaving, I realized one of the bathroom sinks wasn't draining properly.  No problem, I thought.  I removed the "P" or "U" pipe below the sink and cleaned it out.  Hmmm, still wasn't draining properly.  The plug was further downstream.  Not the end of the world.  But then, when I tried to put the "P" or "U" pipe back, THAT started leaking.  Ugh.  Now I really need a plumber.  It's not that big a deal, just a nuisance since I'll be out of the country, without cell service, trying to coordinate repairs.  Hopefully my agent can help a bit wit the logistics.  

So my night before leaving, I was a bit stressed because of these dilemmas above.  PLUS, the normal stress of trying to figure out what to pack, what not to pack.  For this trip, I opted to pack a bit "heavier" than normal.  I'll be doing some manual labor, so I brought work gloves, work boots, and overalls.  I hope to be doing some sailing, so I also brought my foul weather gear, sailing boots, and my personal flotation device.  I also brought my multi-tool and knife which might be useful for either activity.  And of course I have my GoPro to document things.  I also decided to bring my big Nikon D750, but left the telephoto lens at home, opting only for my 50mm prime lens for this trip, as a way to save a little weight.  It's an experiment.  We'll see.  In Thailand, the Nikon's shutter froze; in Croatia, the Nikon slid off a seat and the telephoto lens shattered.  Both instances reminded me about the risk of bringing big expensive cameras on my type of traveling.  But, I'm going to try one more time.  

That's it for now.  I guess I'd better get to my gate so I can actually make this trip, not just write about it!  

Adios!

The Long (and Short) Haul

It's old news at this point, but here is a brief account of our sail from Fiji to New Zealand in November.  

For the fourth time, I joined as crew of the sailing vessel Avalon for her 1,200-mile passage between New Zealand and Fiji.  This brings my total ocean sailing miles to over 5,000!  

This most recent trip began in Port Denerau, Fiji on October 21 when I flew in from San Francisco to meet skipper Tom, his wife Di, and new crew member Nicky. 

We spent about a week cleaning and organizing, planning and preparing.  We took a “shakedown sail” one day to re-familiarize ourselves with the boat operations and to test different systems and procedures, like water-making and reefing. 

We watched the weather diligently, and skipper Tom leveraged many resources to pick a safe weather window for our departure.  Sailing across the ocean is not to be taken lightly, especially in this part of the South Pacific Ocean where low pressure systems spin out of the Tasman Sea on a near-regular basis, bringing with them potential for high winds and turbulent seas.

During our downtime, we enjoyed dockside lunches at Rhum-ba and sunset beers at Traveller’s beach resort.  I stayed at budget hotels most of the week, but the last two nights before departure I splurged and stayed at the Westin.

With a favorable weather window materializing, we checked out of Fiji on Saturday, October 28.  The wind was coming out of the east, and was forecasted to back around to the north, northwest, and eventually southwest over the next week or so.  This rotation worked pretty well for our journey south, although the wind speed was a bit higher than we would have liked (20-25 knots instead of 15-20 knots).  The sea state, too, was likely to be a bit bigger than ideal.  But, the conditions were satisfactory and the skipper made the call:  We cast off the dock lines and set sail!

Per Avalon tradition, we departed to the tune of a carefully selected departure soundtrack, which included a number of relevant and/or motivational tracks (e.g., “Should I Stay or Should I Go,” "Help," etc.), and always ending with “Avalon” by Roxy Music. 

As we motored out of Port Denerau, a big squall formed behind us but we were able to outrun it even as we slowed down a bit to hoist the sails.  We hoped this was a good omen for things to come.

Based on multiple weather resources we used for routing, we chose a course slightly south southwest, to stay clear of some heavy weather that was directly south of Fiji.  This gentle curve worked out pretty well to avoid the bad stuff.  We had a fresh to strong breeze on our beam, which enabled us to keep our speed up as we sliced through the 2-3 meter swells (also on our beam). 

As expected, we nervously skirted around – and sometimes through – the occasional squall in the early or later evenings.  The squalls are tricky, with strong and shifty winds, and frequently thick rain.  For the most part, we lucked out.

On the bright side, literally, we enjoyed several nights of great moonlight, as our passage happened to include the full moon phase.  On some nights, the moon set well before sunrise, so we also enjoyed a couple of crystal clear, starry nights.

The first 5 or 6 days of the passage were pretty intense.  Wind, swells, squalls.  We sailed a lot.  We only turned on the auxiliary engine to charge batteries.  I don’t think we used the main engine at all (other than our initial departure from the marina).   

We kept our meals simple, sticking to pre-made sandwiches and pre-cooked / frozen meat pies and lasagna.  To fend off seasickness, we constantly drank water and nibbled on snacks.

We doubled up on watches – two people at a time – given the relatively intense conditions.  Even if we used auto-pilot, we had two people up at night.  One person to watch auto-pilot, and a second person to watch the first person.  Typically the watches were 3 hours on, 3 hours off, but we varied this a bit depending on the conditions and time of day (night vs. day).

Finally, “Land ho!”  Toward the end of the passage, day 7 and day 8, the wind died down and we turned on the main engine to propel us down the New Zealand coast.  We had been under weather advisory to arrive before the 6th or 7th of November due to another front moving in from the Tasman Sea that would hit New Zealand hard with wind and rain. 

Skipper Tom timed our arrival perfectly – the evening of November 5 – after encountering oru welcome committee of a pod of dolphins surfing our bow wake.  At 11:00pm, we pulled into Marsden Cove in calm seas, light wind, and nearly full moon.  We slowly navigated the channel heading up-river to the marina, using the lighted channel markers as our guide.  We pulled alongside the quarantine dock, secured the boat, and opened up potato chips and cold beers!  

We made it!

(The locked metal gate on the quarantine dock prevented us from going ashore and using the marina facilities. It was midnight anyway, and we were exhausted.  We weren't able to go ashore until the next morning, once the customs/immigration officials came on board to check us into the country.)

We spent about a week at Marsden Cove Marina, cleaning the boat and making notes of things to repair.  We also spent a lot of time eating and resting.   We enjoyed the gracious company of our go-to Airbnb hosts Mike and Jennifer, and their dog Milly.  

After a week, we departed again and set sail for Auckland, about 100 miles south.  We took our time getting there, anchoring at Kawau Island and Rangitoto Island for some day hikes and overnights.  It was a fantastic experience to do some real "cruising" which is fun and relaxing. The long-haul passages across the ocean are much more serious business, almost more like work.  So it was great to take a few days and just cruise around and enjoy the beautiful islands of New Zealand.

Once in Auckland, I packed my bags and moved off the boat into a hotel.  After a great crew dinner, and a day to recover, I headed home to San Francisco grateful for all of my amazing experiences aboard Avalon.

Arrived in Marsden Cove Marina!  (Well, we arrived in the middle of the night.)

Catching up on sleep in the quiet Marsden Cove Marina.

Our welcoming committee!

Enjoying the final stretch - motoring down the coast of New Zealand in light conditions. 

Setting Sail South

Just a quick update from Fiji before we set sail for New Zealand.

I flew into Fiji on October 21, where I immediately rendezvoused with Skipper Tom and fellow crew Di and Nikki.  It was 7:00am, so we had a crew breakfast at our favorite spot, Rhum-Ba, overlooking Port Denarau Marina. 

After breakfast, we headed down to the boat, sailing vessel Avalon.  She looked great!  Tom and Di have been cruising Fiji this summer, so the boat was ship-shape.

Nevertheless, we have spent the last week or so cleaning, organizing, testing, checking, planning, etc.  We took Avalon out for a shakedown sail so that Nikki could familiarize herself (and I could re-familiarize myself) with this particular boat’s operations.  Every boat is rigged differently and handles differently.

Meanwhile, Skipper Tom has also been diligently watching the weather – working with multiple sources to identify a favorable weather window for our 1,200-mile sail to New Zealand.  This is tough passage and weather forecasting is super important.

We now seem to have a good window, and Skipper Tom has made the call:  we depart this weekend! 

The exact time will depend on local conditions.  Once we checkout with Fiji Customs, we have to make the tough transit through the outer reefs.  We want to do that in light wind and daylight if possible.   

As always, I’m honored and thrilled to be part of this voyage.  I’m filled with excitement and anticipation.  We hope for the best during the passage; yet, we know we will face challenges along the way.  As a 4-person team, alone in the open ocean, we will work through those challenges and figure it out.  We’ll take care of Avalon and each other. 

That’s it for now.  I have to be focused on the passage, not Facebook or website updates, so this will be my last post before New Zealand.

I’m signing off and setting sail!

SV Avalon.  She's ready to go, and so are we!

Up the mast!  What a view!

Yikes, pretty far up.  (About 60 feet!)

Don't let go!  (No, I actually have two harnesses, two halyards, secured with both bowlines and shackles.) 

An evening at our favorite sunset bar, Travellers.  Funny that each table has a dog.

My go-to hotel, the Tropic of Capricorn.  (But the last two nights, I splurged and stayed at the Westin.)

The last two nights before departure, I splurged and stayed at the Westin.  

Adventures in Deutschland

My “summer of reunions” concluded with a 3-week trip to Germany, for a 3-part adventure.  The primary purpose was to rendezvous with Ulf, my business school friend and roommate, to celebrate his birthday with his family and friends.  We supplemented the celebration, though, with a hiking trip and Oktoberfest.

My trip began with a direct flight from San Francisco into Munich.  Arriving at 7pm (about 90 minutes late), I met another friend, Uli, after a highly-coordinated logistical plan including a parked car, a hidden key, and a pre-determined meeting place within the Oktoberfest fairgrounds.  We pulled it off without a hitch, and I just made last call at the wine tent.  As the designated driver that night, I drove us home later to Uli’s house in Berg, about 30 minutes south of Munich. 

The following day we returned to the fairgrounds for a full day of Oktoberfest celebration.  This time, we used the train and taxi services.  But this was all just warm-up before the main event: the birthday part on the island of Sylt.

I flew from Munich to Hamburg, where I met up with Ulf, and another business school friend (from SF), Adam.  Ulf drove us to his home in Neumunster – where we enjoyed an evening barbecue with his family.  The following day, we loaded up the van with luggage and party supplies, and drove north to the island of Sylt.  Getting there was pretty interesting.  We drove for a couple hours on the autobahn, and then we boarded a train – with the van on a flatbed train car – and the train took us the rest of the way to the island, across a marshy wetland.  Uli and his girlfriend Danni would make the trip a day later due to work commitments.

On Sylt, Ulf set us up in his vacation cottage, where we stayed for the next several days during the birthday festivities.  And what a celebration it was!  It was more like a wedding than a birthday party. 

The first night, after an evening beach walk, we had an intimate dinner with good friends at a nearby restaurant on the cliffs above the beach.  We returned to the cottage where we played cards and drank schnapps into the wee hours of the morning. 

The second evening included a buffet dinner at another restaurant, as well as an “open mic” where guests played random instruments and sang (I’m assuming) German folk songs.

The third night was the main event, with a fancy dinner, speeches, and a whole lot of dancing.  I was on photograph duty, so I ran around with a camera and practiced my German, “Excuse me, may I take your picture.”  Later in the evening, it shortened to “Attention! Picture!”  It was a lot of fun and a great way to meet (or re-meet) Ulf’s family and friends.  (I have attended two other milestone birthdays of his during the last decade.)

The next few days and nights were spent in recovery and relax mode, just enjoying our time in the small beach community.  We took a couple of drives to the north and south ends of the narrow island.  We walked along the dam that cuts across the wetland.  We took an ecological tour, with guides, across the wetland.  We poked along the pedestrian-only shopping area.   We feasted on fresh fish dishes at Gosch Market.

After nearly a week of island life, it was time to head back south.  We boarded the train and rode all the way down to the Hamburg airport, where we then boarded a flight back to Munich.

Back at Uli’s house, we changed gear – ditching our party outfits and packing our hiking outfits.  We loaded up Uli’s car and drove 90 minutes to the Tegernsee region where we would spend the next three days on two day-long hikes.  There were 5 guys total:  me, Adam, Ulf, Uli, and Olaf.  Our usual 6th, Bernd, had to cancel at the last minute due to work commitments.  We missed him!

The first hike was a long one.  We covered over 20 kilometers and 1,500 meters of elevation.  It took all day.  The highlight was summiting two peaks, and walking along a narrow ridge between the two peaks. 

The second hike was much shorter, but much steeper.  We climbed nearly 1,000 meters in only 3 kilometers of distance, including scaling a rock wall wired with sturdy cables. We were rewarded with a cold beer and hot snack at the Tegernsee Hutte, nestled in the cliffs above, affording us a magnificent view of the Alps.  We weaved our way back down a different route that was much longer (and therefore flatter).  After one final ascent toward the end, which surprised our tired legs, we finally found our way back to our hotel.  The total hike ended up being about 13 kilometers.

Although I couldn’t bring my new trekking poles from San Francisco (they wouldn’t fit in my luggage, and I’m not allowed to carry them onto the plane), Uli was nice enough to let me use his.  They really help.  I’m impressed that Uli was able to complete the two days of hiking with legs only!  Next time I’ll ship my poles ahead of time to his house.

As in Sylt, we spent the evenings in Tegernsee playing cards and sipping schnapps.  The German guys did a great job speaking English, and being patient with Adam and me as we tried to learn a few more German phrases.  I’ve been visiting Ulf and his friends for over 15 years; I really should learn German. 

Exhausted and sore after the two big hikes, we headed back to Munich.  We drove to Uli’s house to regroup and prepare for our third adventure:  Oktoberfest.  For three days straight, we headed off to the fairgrounds to meet with different groups of friends and eat/drink at different tents.  It was a fun time, but as usual, back-to-back days at Oktoberfest is pretty tough.  But “that’s Wiesn,” as we say.   

I spent my final day on a nice walk around Lake Starnberg with Uli.  We walked into town and enjoyed a final beer lakeside, at the Orange Beach Club, reminiscing about our wild 3-week adventure and loosely planning our next outing in 2018 or 2019. 

It was an action-packed, fun-filled vacation.  I enjoyed seeing my German friends again, and I’m grateful for their amazing, generous hospitality.  Uli and Ulf are such gracious hosts, they really make me feel at home.  I look forward to their visits to the USA sometime so I can return the royal treatment!

For now, I’m back in San Francisco to complete a U.S. Sailing Instructor Certification course.  (Update:  I passed!) 

And in a few days, I turn around and fly the other direction – west, and south – to Fiji where I’ll join the crew of Avalon for another sailing adventure…

Strange to board a train, IN YOUR CAR, and take the train to an island.

At the beach on the island of Sylt!

Practicing slack line!

Walking to dinner along the curvy paths in the beach community on Sylt.

Dinner tables set up for the main event - Ulf's birthday!

Making the ascent on one of our hikes in the Tegernsee Region in southern Germany.

At the summit!  We made it!

Looking back along the ridge that we hiked.

Heading down to the Tegernsee Hutte for a cold beer and hot soup.

Signing the guest book at one of the summits.