Kanggava Bay, Rennell Island

Aloha from Kanggava Bay, Rennell Island! We have moved down to the "big bay" on the island to await our brothers and sisters. Where Lughughi was small, sheltered and deep, with heavily wooded cliff faces, this bay is big, with pristine white sandy beaches along the shoreline. Coconut trees beckon from the foot of sheer white cliffs that peek out from the greenery...and each of us has pretty much picked the beach we want. Under the cover of the starry night sky, phosphorescence twinkles accordingly in the calm sea. We are all anchored close to each other, nearly close enough to hear the conversations on the other vessels. We were twice gifted today, once by Tangaroa...a lovely ono that bit our line. We were also given some nice ahi chunks by the Faafaite crew - the ladies of Faafaite came delivering smiles, good will and fish in their dinghy just before sunset. We thought about inviting them for cocoa and cookies, but the shortbread takes an hour to bake, so I think I will be doing a breakfast run in the morning to all the canoes. Sounds like we will be able to take a trip to the lake tomorrow, which, apparently will be one of the many treats of this paradise. Just going ashore to the beautiful beaches will be a treat, as will snorkeling among the coral heads in the clear water. We did some snorkeling at Lughughi in a sheltered lagoon...amazing corals and fish in every shade of the rainbow, and especially the rare shades of blue, purple and even teal. I am looking forward to similar sights tomorrow. We have discovered paradise, rather unexpectedly, on a Polynesian island far from home. You guys are not going to believe the pictures.

Tonight Haunui rests under the stars, watching videos, drinking very chocolatey Nesquik and munching on shortbread hot out of the oven. I think that before I sleep (I am on watch for a while), I will take a quick bath under the stars. We will see what wonders tomorrow brings, including the possibility of Marumaru Atua, Te Matau A Maui and Uto Ni Yalo joining us. We will also finally get to meet more of the local population, other than the few that made the trek to the other bay. Although it is odd to be away from the rest of the family, it is peaceful here with our little group.

Po marie whanau

Safe Haven at Rennell Island

We left Honiara full intending to make our way to New Caledonia, despite the prevalence of southeasterly winds. Basically the winds were blowing from the direction we wanted to go, so our thought was to tack back and forth across them. The first night out was ridiculously calm, with the winds shifting dramatically among all four quarters. During our shift, the canoe nearly spun itself in circles, despite concentrated efforts with the steering. The calm, proverbially, came before the storm, as we then ran through a series of 35-40 kt wind squalls, drenching ourselves and the canoe in both waves and heavy rains. That night was near to being one of the roughest I've ever sailed in. It is a testament to our crew's skills and commitment that we made it through with very little damage. After that night, Marumaru Atua, Uto Ni Yalo, and Te Matau A Maui decided to turn back to Guadalcanal Island to assess damage and weather. They are still anchored in Wanderer's Bay waiting for the winds to shift. Okeanos, Faafaite, Hinemoana, Evohe and ourselves decided to push through. After three and a half days, we decided to tack back to the north and seek shelter in Lughlughi Bay, Rennell Island. The relative quiet at anchor here is needed, as the Haunui crew is decidedly beat up. Rere slammed the hatch cover on her thumb, my tattoo is healing slowly and has developed a staph infection, Greg, Kalei, Ema and Faumuina are feeling sick. Kalei also got a fish spine in his finger that required minor surgery. 

Rennell and Bellona islands are Polynesian outliers, meaning that their inhabitants are Polynesian, but they are outside of the Polynesian Triangle. We are on the uninhabited side, but some of us managed to get ashore yesterday to wander about. This side is pretty much pure jungle, although there's a track that leads 7 km to the village. Some of the Okeanos crew went to the village and brought back two locals, including Barnabas, who speaks very good English. They were excited that we were here and came out to see the canoes for themselves. Tomorrow morning, we will motor (hopefully sail) 10 hours down the coast to another bay closer to the village. Barnabas promises a white sandy beach. The bay we are in, by contrast, is relatively deep, with a good fish population, including a meter long tiger shark that got entangled in Hinemoana's fishing lines. The Faafaite boys, true to form, were in the water as soon as they could be after anchoring yesterday morning, and speared a good haul of fish. it was all put to good use, as the crews of all the vessels had a potluck dinner last night on Hinemoana. Our time is short together, as the Te Mana o te Moana project is officially over, and so it was a good opportunity to cherish each other's company and have some kava, laughs, music and of course, the good food. It is ironic out here, as well, that as close as we are to each other, we are still limited in our time together by single dinghies per waka and swimming ability in somewhat polluted water. One benefit has been that we are taking the opportunity to wash and dry copious amounts of salty clothing and equipment.

It's funny...I have a lexicon from Rennell and Bellona at home, purely because I like to collect Polynesian dictionaries. I never, ever dreamed that I would be here. But - this is the silver lining, the serendipity in our journey. One aspect of Rennell that sets it apart is that it has an extremely large fresh water lake that we will see tomorrow. It is a World Heritage site, although we're not exactly sure why. We've been joking that we will pick up little Okeanos, our "toy waka" and sail her around in the lake. Not sure what her crew will think about that. There is an abundance of fresh water here, those who have gotten in the water to snorkel report brackish water near the cliff. One tidal pool area near us that has fresh water coming out is called Waikiki. Because of my staph infection, I have not been in the water, as much as I'd really like to be swimming. Maybe when the antibiotics have set in, or when we go to a cleaner area. The water here is pristine, of course, except for us. Okeanos, Hinemoana and Evohe have holding tanks for their bathrooms, but Faafaite and we do not, meaning that everything from the bathroom goes in the water. It is a sad, but necessary reality of sailing. The first night in, we were held to a promise to Kainoa that no one would use the bathroom for an hour so that everyone could shower in clean water. 

We are planning to wait here until the weather forecast is better...probably departing around the 19th, when the winds are expected to shift in our favor and give us following seas most of the way to New Caledonia. Once there, we will be spending a couple days in Yeggen (?), the former Kanak capitol, and then sail the 200 miles to Noumea, the final stop before the last run to Aotearoa. Because of time constraints, I will be flying out of New Caledonia to New Zealand to make my flight on the 8th. I plan to spend a few days in Aotearoa visiting friends, as I'm this far south already, and as my ticket is booked out of Auckland. It just seemed easier. It will be a good opportunity to reacclimatize to real life. I am hoping my canoe brother, Kalei, will decide to come too, as he is in need of a rest, having shouldered tremendous responsibilities over the last months. It would be nice to have a friend to hang out with. And so my journey is nearly at it's end. 

It will be tremendously difficult to leave, as this is the life I have known for the last three months. Some of the people on this canoe and on others have become my family, my close friends, and people I would regret not ever seeing again. With seven canoes out there on the water, I know there will be opportunity to sail again with some of them. In addition, my navigational skills, limited as they are, will provide opportunities for me to work with crews in different areas as well, and I hope I will be able to do some visiting over the next year. What has become clear to me throughout my involvement in this project is the importance of the Pacific family, and the tremendous need that exists for us to stick together, especially in the face of first world politics and environmental decisions. In rediscovering our waka heritage, we have discovered the strength in ourselves. In sailing together, we have discovered brotherhood and sisterhood...as Hinemoana's song says, "We are the nomads of the sea, the vikings of the sun, we are the people of the world, far away from home."

As a last note to this blog, I have to give my heartfelt thanks to Kalepa Baybayan, who has been my mentor for a number of years. He was given Pwo status by Mau Piailug a few years ago, and when I asked him what it meant to him, he told me that being Pwo meant being the light, the steward for your people. In the old days, being the navigator meant that you were responsible for finding food for your people. This journey has showed me the truth of that in terms of the knowledge we all have. If we hold on to knowledge and hoard it as belonging only to one culture, we lose out. It is our RESPONSIBILITY to share what we know, what we learn and what we discover within every culture with each other, or each of our individual cultures will not survive. So mahalo nui to Kalepa for being a light to me, and guiding me in my role in this journey. I have a lot to share with you.

Building a Pacific house

ALoha -

long time no blog, I know.  It's been exceptionally hectic here in the Solomons, with our commitments to the Festival of Pacific Arts.  I have to say the Festival is fabulous...people of all Pacific cultures come together to share crafts, dance, song, stories, tattoo and culture.  It is wonderful to wander through the booths and talk to the various islanders.  Everyone on the festival grounds feels free to smile and chat with each other.  It is a fitting culmination to our journey - one that was designed to bring Pacific Islanders together.  As we have developed into a large voyaging family, so, too, has this festival helped to bring Pacofc peoples to a better understanding of each other.  We have had assigned shifts at our Pacific VOyagers space to share our journey and kuleana with others, but I have spent entire days here, even when the rain was pouring down, just soaking up the atmosphere and the music.  The delegations that really stand out are GUam and of course Rapa Nui...the feathers are so cool, and we've all agreed that the Rapa Nui people are exceptionally beautiful.  One of the projects in conjunction with the Pacific Voyagers has been a Maori whare complete with carvings in part designed and carved by crew members.  Somehow we all got involved in the actual work, and it became a mission for us to have as many as possible get their hands on it.  I have been digging post holes in the ground, lugging and drilling timber, measuring and constructing a house with the help of a dedicated group of Solomon Islanders, as well as with Brendan and Murray from the Haunui crew.  It has been nice to get some real work done, and to feel like I"ve done something physical.  ALthough the majority of the HOniara population is friendly and helpful, it is not advisable for anyone to wander alone, especially off the main streets.  SO - no running as I was doing on other islands.  We're off to Noumea in New Caledonia next, so I'm hoping that the opportunity will exist for a little exercise.  It will be too cold in New Zealand, I'm sure, for anything outdoorsy.  We have our final performance in an hour...somehow the VOyagers became an entertainment group...it started with the wish for each waka to share their "mission" an of course, song is an easy and catchy medium.  SO now we have evolved into performers with our hakas, songs and dances.  This is the end, however, of our performing days.  Tomorrow, we all sail off to another island, not sure which one, for a day together before the canoes go their separate ways.  Faafaite, Marumaru Atua, Haunui and Te Matau A Maui will continue to Noumea and New Zealand.  Uto NI Yalo, Hine MOana and Gaualofa will sail off on their own agendas.  ANd so we've built a Pacific house, and we set out now from it's shelter to find ourselves... 

Things You Get Used To When Sailing

Aloha kakou - 

We are about 80 miles out of Luganville on the island of Espiritu Santo, Vanuatu.  The islands of Vanuatu really surprised us with their verdant beauty and laid back friendly people.  Hotu (Hoturoa Kerr - Haunui's "papa") thinks he might seriously look into purchasing some land here as a place for Haunui to sail to.  We started out by anchoring at Port Vila on the island of Efate.  It took seven hours to clear customs, during which time we all anchored outside the town.  Hana-lee, Murray and I decided to go snorkeling on a nearby reef.  Nothing like home, but a few colorful corals and fish.  After a couple of days there, we moved on to Maskelyne, the home island of Hinemoana crew member Kalo.  On the trip over, we not only composed a song with our haka words, but we came up with a Haunui sasa (a traditional Samoan dance - the influence of Ema and Faumuina, our Samoan wahine crew). And we laughed a lot.  It was a beautiful place: very traditional and simple living.  The only modern conveniences were water pumps and possibly some computers at the school.  No cars, electricity only here and there.  Walking between villages was a walk through a tropical jungle with ulu, niu and other tall trees, as well as piglets running through the brush.  We then moved on overnight to the island of Espiritu Santo and the town of Luganville. The wakas ended up being split between two wharves there, and the winds were blowing hard.  It was a quiet little town, and a few of us went in together to get a room at the only hotel for a hot shower. Ahhh....so nice!  As we sailed out yesterday morning, the winds were pretty strong and favorable, but Okeanos, our sister waka, broke a halyard block and had to return to shore for repairs.  Te Matau and Hinemoana accompanied them in to assist.  The rest of us were left outside to reef down and drop sails to wait.  Unfortunately, the wind also dropped severely, and we are now bobbing along at about 2 kts. The navigation has been temporarily suspended while we wait for the fleet to reconvene and for the wind to return.  Kind of a bummer, as I have MY first apprentice: Ikaika Vivas, who is really gung ho to navigate, and is quite disappointed that the weather is not cooperating.  In the mean time, I was thinking about the little things about life at sea that become normal practice, but might seem odd to everyone else.

Things You Get Used to at Sea:

A constant salty layer on your clothes and hair

Wet feet

Getting splashed by the occasional freak set

If there's no wind, we're swimming

Someone is in the bathroom when you want to go

Having to haul up a bucket of water in order to flush the toilet, shower, or clean dishes (the faster you are going, the harder it is)

Showering every second or third day and not feeling filthy

Wearing the same clothes three or four days in a row and not feeling filthy (keeping clean clothes CLEAN is a good thing)

With our new crew, someone always references a cartoon in conversation

Rain and wearing foul weather gear constantly

With Hotu and Ikaika on board, there's always music

The plans always change...if you know what they are in the first place

Beautiful sunrises and sunsets

Bathing in full view of the crew and not caring (also changing clothes in

front of your hatchmates and not caring)

Hanging your clothes, including your underwear, out to dry on the railings

Sunscreen all the time, first thing

Wearing lifejackets at all times at night

Wearing a headlamp at night all the time

Amazing, vivid dreams

Being forced to live in the moment, whatever that moment is...you are a prisoner of your circumstances and have to deal with them whatever they are.  Just BEing.

A hui hou - 

Catherine

Odds and Ends

Aloha - we are finally on our way to Vanuatu after a small delay by customs in Suva. I was in Suva in 1998 for World Sprints, and had a much different experience this time. Suva is a taxi city - cabs are cheap and plentiful, and you can go nearly everywhere. We did some stints at the Fiji Museum for school kids...two crew per waka spoke and answered questions, and the kids came down to visit at the docks. The best questions were, "What do you do when your canoe flips over?", "Were you sailing when there were dinosaurs?", and "When are you going to Ireland?" You can tell from the questions that the kids were fairly young. I managed to get to the University bookstore, which I was hoping to do, and pick up a few books, including a 1962 book about Ra'ivavae, the home island of one of my close friends on Faafaite. It's been both entertaining and educational to look at the photos and maps and compare them to his home photos. It's a beautiful place...might have to put it on the bucket visit list. We changed a lot of our crew in Fiji; Michelle, Te Miroa, Huia and Josh got off, and Faumuina, Ema, Teone, Brendon and Natalia got on. Natalia is a fleet photographer and should be taking some shots of us. As seems to be the norm, our departure was marked by near total cloud cover. I can't wait to actually begin a voyage in clear skies to make the navigation simple. It's always a test, it seems. This time, Kalei Velasco and I are sharing navigational duties. It's a relief to have another brain to bounce ideas off of, as well as to trade off sleeping hours. We discussed setting up a sleeping rotation for ourselves, and then decided to wing it. Not a good idea, as our sleep schedules turned out to be fairly similar. I took one for the team and stayed up so he could sleep first. The first night is always the hardest, as having not been at sea for a while, you need to get your stars back in order and figure out what you see when. With the cloud cover we had, that was most difficult. Luckily, the Southern Cross appeared on a nearly regular basis. After the first night of being up, I have found that it is easy to stay up. For some reason, I can convince my body that I don't need more than a couple of hours of sleep a day. Once the sun comes up, natural rhythms kick in and sleep is difficult. I do find myself napping for a couple of minutes...you think you're awake but then you realize that you've been asleep. The dreams you have in those brief moments are both bizarre and intense: voices, faces, people saying completely off the wall things. I begin to wonder what my subconscious is saying to me. Having a partner creates an odd symbiotic relationship. Your brains need to be in synch and you work off each other's knowledge and sleep schedules. It's an oddly intimate intellectual relationship. The two of us are somewhat set apart. I enjoyed working with Wati (Manihera Forbes) as we sailed through the Society Islands and Cook Islands, as our styles of navigation were different, but oddly compatible. Being from Aotearoa, he taught me a lot about the southern skies and using southern stars. Working with Kalei (Velasco) is a different dynamic, but productive and comfortable. I didn't specifically ask to do the navigation on my journey, but here I am. I can say that the more I do it, the more I need to learn. There is so much information that I wish I knew, especially about weather patterns and predictions. I think the biggest lessons I have learned about the process are first: as much as it is an intellectual endeavor, much of navigation is in the gut, based on faith that you can do it and the knowledge that you WILL get there. The emotional and intellectual journey for me each time I do this is huge. Last night I had the distinct sensation that the island would come to us, not the other way around. The second lesson, from Wati, is that everything works out in the end. Despite swings in direction by the steersmen, it all evens up in the end. It's a good metaphor for life in general...don't worry because things work out the way they are supposed to. Finally, sitting looking at the stars at night (or the fuzzy spots where they are supposed to be in the sky) gives you impetus to prioritize some things.  Tava Taupu (Hokualaka'i crew - Hilo), my first and favorite Hokule'a watch captain once told me that you need to tie up all loose ends on land before you go to sea.  I didn't exactly follow his advice, and now am facing carrying some extra "baggage" on this trip.  Having the opportunity to clarify is good, though, and I am working on putting some things in a mental "suitcase" for the next few days.  The enormity of being at sea demands all of your attention: mental and spiritual.

Just a note...navigators have to clean dishes, decks and toilets just like everyone else!  I started yesterday on the work detail.

6th graders - I am so proud of your accomplishments and hope you are enjoying your summer, whether you are in school or not. I will have LOTS of video and photos to share with you next fall!

In search of the hot shower...

Bula from Fiji!  This is actually our last night here - we are off tomorrow for a few days in Vanuatu.  I expect we'll take 3-4 days - weather looks good for now.  We'll be heading due west, or fairly close to that.  We've been working here on our group presentation for the Festival of pacific Arts.  Some crews, like the Marumaru Atua and faafaite crews have great musical an dance numbers.  We have a poer point explaining the meaning of our Haunui haka.  As always, in port, we try to sniff out a hot shower. I've gotten closer here...figured out at the end of a shower yesterday how to get it warm.  For the most part, we've been in warm weather, but we had torrential rains the other day.  My fingers didn't un-prune until about 10 at night.  The people of Fiji have been very welcoming and supportive.  We stayed for a few days on the island of Ovalau, our second stop being the old capitol of Levuka, whci was a wonderful stay.  teh whole town paraded with us to the welcoming ceremonies.  We also had a traditional event as we arrived...three crew from each waka had to race to find a lady with a whale's tooth.  the kicker is that she is hidden in a crowd of other womens waving sulus.  I was one of the runners for my canoe, didn't get the tooth, but got a lot of cloth. We are actually at Suva Point, on the campus of the University of the SOuth pacific - looks like a great international school and has a good bookstore too.  Fiji is a place for our last major crew changes...Michelle Kapana-Baird, huia marshall, Te Miroa maxwell and Josh from Uto Ni Yalo left, and we welcomed Ema, Faumuina, Teone, Brendan and brought back Jef.  I'm feeling a little lonely without Michelle, but it will be nice getting to know the new crew.  We are getting closer everyday to the Festival, and one concern for us (and in vanuatu) is malaria.  All canoes got mosquito nets as protection.  Have got some good repellent as well.

Bula from Fiji!

We saw the first islands last night: a small atoll and then Taveuni, our turning point, from under the shadow of the clouds. The projected time for this leg of the sail was 5 days, but we had great wind from the start and averaged 10 kts the whole way. So...two and a half days later, we are here, slowly making our way through to Makongai, where we will most likely anchor for the day. We celebrated last night with what has become our traditional night before hitting land, fresh fish.  This time it was an ahi.  Yum.  Or, as Hana Lee would say, "beautiful!" Because we're early, customs may not be set up for us, so we'll have to wait before moving on to Ovalau Island, where we'll spend a couple of days on the beach. Looks like there will be time for swimming and snorkeling as well as having a waka work day. After that, we'll be moving to Suva, actually Laucala, where the University is. The marina is supposed to be pretty nice and secure. I'm thrilled because the bookstore at the University has great books that I can't find at home.

This was the first trip that I have navigated by myself, and it started out under complete cloud cover, which got me pretty nervous. We were lucky, though, in that we got the clues we needed to set course and keep it. All the credit for this trip, however, goes to the crew who were excellent at maintaining a course based on swell and wind direction. Two of the watches I trusted enough to be able to take naps. Our second night out was beautiful and clear, providing excellent sights of the stars. The night ended with the full moon setting directly on our course line. We sailed into the moonset, along the sparkling path of moonlight on the water. Captain Greg was on the 2-6 watch and asked me to play my sailing playlist. The song "Cool Change" came on, with the line, "it's kind of a special feeling out on the sea alone, staring at the full moon like a lover..." and there we were, watching a rainbow-ringed full moon...it was a magical moment. Those of you with a sense of astronomy will know the relative position of the sun to a full moon, and you'll know that if the full moon set on our bow, the rising sun came up directly behind us. That was a second magical moment: to be caught between the two. My third magical moment was getting nearly a full night's sleep after we switched over to GPS navigation to avoid reefs.

We have a guest from Uto Ni Yalo on board, Josh, and actually he sailed on Haunui to Tahiti. Most of the wakas have adopted a Fijian for this leg, and Josh has been a happy addition. On yesterday's morning 6-10 watch, we all had a little dance party. It was really special to see Josh's face as we sighted Fijian land. He has been thrilled to look at the AIS and to see his home and his village. As we sight new islands, he becomes our tour guide and excitedly explains what we're looking at. It's too bad we're not really taking him to his home island, but I think he's excited enough just to be close.

After Suva, we're looking at four and a half days to Port Vila in Vanuatu. For now, however, aloha from sunny Fiji - it's going to be a beautiful day!