Voyage of the Enchantress

The enchantress last dance

2010-09-05T20:42:00.000-07:00

Psalms 107
23 They that go down to the sea in ships,
that do business in great waters;
24 these see the works of the LORD,
and his wonders in the deep.
25 For he commandeth, and raiseth the stormy wind,
which lifteth up the waves thereof.
26 They mount up to the heaven,
they go down again to the depths:
their soul is melted because of trouble.
27 They reel to and fro,
and stagger like a drunken man,
and are at their wit's end.
28 Then they cry unto the LORD in their trouble,
and he bringeth them out of their distresses.
29 He maketh the storm a calm,
so that the waves thereof are still.
30 Then are they glad because they be quiet;
so he bringeth them unto their desired haven.

Many of you know we have been pushing our luck and gods grace, sailing old school style around the south pacific. Traveling with out an motor has not been more then an inconvenience tell lately. It seems god has sent us a message that it is time to leave the high seas and seek our fortune some where else. Our fate began to change in Tonga. Tonga it self was a magical land full of steep lime stone island that jet straight up out of the sea, bats the size of small dog, Hump back whales, and people who opened the hearts and home to us. Strangers stopped us in the street to invite us in to there home, and after a few minutes they where inviting us to a feast.

We where treated with so much kindness in this land but mishap fallowed us as well. It was here that I pointed out a corral head to Mike with just enough warning for him to put the boat right on top of it. There we where stuck with the boat leaning on it side in the middle of the ocean no way to go forward or back. The wind was blowing us on to the coral head and where stuck. Up on the deck was like trying to walk around in a fun house the boat tilted at a 50 degree angle. Pots, pans, cans, clothing, Ipods, and a half a can of peaches littered the the cabin. Mike was in the water as if he was super man trying to push us back to open water. There we would of stayed tell the end of time if it where not for the help of some fellow boaters who pulled us back in to open water. Then a few days later after we where just beginning to shake off that not so near sinking, tragedy stuck a second time. As we where leaving port we attempted to sail right though another sail boat. This did not work very well and in the end we spent and agonizing night waiting for the owner to return so we could tell him we had put two hole in the side of his boat.

With lighter pockets we departed for Fiji intending to put out bad luck behind us. We had a pleasant and uneventful voyage for the most part, other then a fearsome storm on my birthday that left us worn out and puking. In Fiji we spent a few days in Suva where Mike decided he need a break from the boat and me, so he took of to explore the high lands. I was left with the boat to my self and a chance to try my luck at single handing.

I spend the week in the great Astrable reef where I had beautiful white sand beaches all to my self. The only down side was it was very difficult to pull anchor raise sails, drop sails and anchor, and not hit any thing when you are by your self and do not have a motor. But the time spent contemplating on my island solos, and freindly villagers made it all worth it. After my island adventure I was ready to meet up with my cousin Chad in Nandi. Out plan was to then headed back out out the real Fiji for several more weeks of adventure.

Unfortaintlyith me and chad the enchantress had other plands she tried to meet her end several time and to take me and chad down to Davy Jones locker with her. On out first day out of Nandi she tried to run straight in to a reef one night. She was only saved by quick work on my part rowing an stern anchor out to keep here off the reef and then some fancy free diving and scuba diving with an almost empty scuba tank and a a drive light that only worked when it wanted to which was not very often. So there I was holding my breath under water in the dark trying to untangle my anchored and pull the boat away from the reef where she was trying to smash her self to pieces. It was a long exhausting first sail for chad and me and we only went 10 miles.
The next day chad and I hould sail to Kawata Island where we spent a magical week with welcoming locals and backpackers. With sad hearts we left for Mona island where we where due to meet Mike and Danielle.

We set off with two day to sail 20 mile we thought this would be plenty of time even in light winds. Only to find the wind so light that after a whole day of sailing we had drift back to the same anchorage. Then next day we made a bit more progress before almost drifting on to a reef and being forced to anchor in 80 feet of water next to one of Fiji's many reefs. The third day thing looked up and soon we found out self beating in to 25 knot winds. We where pushing hard and racing the sun to Mona hoping to only be a day late. I was tacking my way though a maze of reefs just an hour before dark when the perfect disaster struck. I heard a loud pop and turned to chad to find out what it was he responded that the forstay had broken but showed no real concern. Instantly I was panic struck, the forstay holds up the mast and with out it the mast can very easily fall back ward crushing you if you are at the wheel and sinking the boat. So I gave chad the wheel, not so he would be crush but, so I could run to the front. I try to fix it thinking what would Macgyver do, I was out of snorkels, bananas, and avocados, but did manage to secure the mast. I secured it by running a spare line to the bow roller and tightening it with the winch. At the same time I was instructing chad to take us on a run to transfer the force to the back stay. As if straight out of a movie chad accidentally Gibed and manage to rip the main sail in half. So here we where surrounded by reefs with no sails or engine. We where in a mess to say the least. All we could do was trust in god and hope the boat did not sink. We packed our abandon ship bag and where ready to put to the life raft. But miraculously god guided us though all the reefs and in the morning I was able to rig a sail and bring the boat back to a port.
Now safe in sound in port we realized that the trip is done we have had are adventure and learned the lesions of the sea now it time to move on. The Enchantress is for sale and we will soon part ways. We did not make it to the land of oz but we where taught so much on the way about courage, dreaming, faith, kindness, and most importantly what it truly means to love your brother as your self. The sea and these Island people will for ever be part of us.

Magic Islands

2010-07-14T16:30:00.000-07:00

There are over 300 nations in the world. What the exact number is I have no idea but I bet you can't name more then 50 or 60 off the top of your head. There are so many nations out there that I have no idea even existed. Nuie is one of the places I had never heard about until a few months ago. This island nation of only 1400 people, is located just a few hundred miles east of Tonga. What we found when we visited was a magical place of enchanted caves, friendly people, and crystal clear water. We spent over a week exploring the caves, snorkeling with sea snakes, and looking for whales. We rented a motor bike one day and accessed the far side of the island ripping up the pavement on the 125 cc bike. The bike let us visit my favorite cave, the name I cant remember now and never could say. We ignored the sign out side the cave warning of danger and climbed down in a narrow canyon surrounded by towering lime stone walls. On each end of the canyon was a fresh water spring creating refreshing deep pools. bolt pools disappeared in to dark under water caves. Enticed by the adventure we put on our mask and dived in one of the pools. Swimming in to the opening we where not sure when or if a air pocket would be reached. We came up in a huge cave where light was filtering in, from cracks in the roof, turning the water a deep blue. Armed with my head lamp which I hoped was waterproof we dove in to the next tunnel and worked our way from one air source to the next each opening magically lighted from above. After several long frightening swims we found our self in a dark cave with no light. Here we decided to turn back the combination of not knowing when our next air source will be and the questionable reliability of our only light source frighted us to much to continue exploring this magical place. In the end I felt like I had experienced some thing so amazing you question if it is real. We loved our stay in Nuie finding so many magical place and where sad to move on to Tonga.
Vavau Tonga seemed like another fairytale land with lime stone island I thought could only be found in Asia. Here we went a to feast where the food is piled a foot deep on the table with out room for plates after eating our feel we are begged to take with us a hole suckling pig, a crab the size of my head, chicken and what ever side dishes they can shove in to our hands. We escaped with out the pig but with food to keep us feed for days. We have been entertained diving ship wrecks, Diving though caves, exploring deserted island, sailing from amazing anchorage to amazing anchorages and watching bats the size of small dogs fly over your heads. We now say good bye to you friends hear and go south to the Hapia group for a bit who knows what adventurers await us there.

2010-06-28T18:00:00.000-07:00

I am standing waist deep in Crystal clear water, a window to brightly colored fish and coral. Behind me is a lagoon that morphs between three or four shades of blue so vivid it hurt the eyes. Surrounding the lagoon are several tropical paradises of sand beaches lined with coconut trees. So here I am standing in water holding a large stick that makes me fell like an old testament prophet or Shepard. About 100 yards off a 30 year old man is screaming at me in a language I think is English but can't be entirely sure. In confusion I turn to John my 10 year old friend and hunting companion.

"What does your dad want us to do"

"Run this way" he comments as he drops the hunk of raw fish he is gnawing on and pushes in to water that is chest deep for him.

I follow in a mad dash stumbling over the uneven surface. Only to reprimanded by my mentor John.

"Not so fast you will.." he is cut short by another stream of screams from Johns Father Ed.

"Run " and John is off cutting thought the water like he is after the ice cream truck.

We are running right straight at Ed and his other son David. Are job is to chase parrot fish in to net that Ed and David have strung out. We did well this time to good in fact the fish over loaded the net. We rush to help Ed get the fish in to boat before to many get away. I am doing every thing wrong having trouble deciphering Ed thick Palmerston accent. Despite my help we soon had over 300 fish in the boat. Ed Snapped there neck and I put them on long lines we will drag to deep water before they are loaded in the boat.
The Fish are the only export on the island and will be frozen and ship on the next ship out. The boat the only leak to the out side world come three of four times a year. No when know when the next boat will be but the last one was here three months ago. Palmerston is the home of the descendants of William Master and his three wife's. 67 of there decedents life on the island now following stand marriage rules in a culture that is a mix of cook islands and English. They pride them self in there culture and isolation. Even to the point of threatening the prime minster with blood shed if there is a airport built on the island.
Ed is our Host every boat is assigned a host and it is there responsibility to take care of you when you are on the island. They take you to and from the boat using your own dinghy is forbidden you actually can go no where or do any thing with out the aid of your host. There hospitality was excellent we arrived with out any cash to pay the government fees a problem on an island with out even a store let alone a bank. Ed payed our fees in exchange for gas that he then used to drive us a round. Ed feed us every time we went on land. We gave him a few gifts mostly thing we viewed as trash but he received them with the joy a a five year old on Christmas morning. In hours he had transferred our trash in too tools. Palmerston was the most amazing cultural experience and unlike any thing I have ever experienced. We left with sad hearts and hope to go back one day.

a simple time

2010-05-15T12:54:00.001-07:00

We sailed 3000 nm to reach the Marquesas islands one of the most isolated places on earth. But even here on these islands in the middle of the sea the influence of western civilization can still be felt. The south pacific is one of the last strong holds of native culture and ways of life. But what do we mean when we talk of the westernization of the world? Is the concern the savages will get electricity, start wearing clothes, dinking Coca Cola and driving Fords. If this is the global disaster we are fighting then we are too late, the battle is lost.
The fact that natives are no longer paddling out to the boat, naked covered in tattoos is a bit of a disappointment. But it is a trade off for them not wanting to eat me as well. The tragedy I am talking about is deeper then Coca Cola. I worry about the destruction of culture and art in the name of salvation by those who only want to enslave or exterminate any one who dares to stand in there way or question the way they view the world. It does not mater if this destruction is done by religion or big corporations the results are the same. Once it was priest who condemned there way of life as satanic, then massacred thousand of the locals in a campaign to build cathedrals to god. Those who survive where then hauled of the far corners of the “civilized” world to serve as slaves. 95% of the population was destroyed before the French protectors arrived, they would use the area as there own little nuclear test sight until the late nineties.
Don’t get me wrong we are talking about cannibals and some changes in there why of live were defiantly for the better. I for one am glad I don’t have to worry about ending up dinner. The last feast with a side of small child was held in 1912. Luckily the Marquesans are proud, strong people, and there art, tattoos, dance, and local hospitality have survived. To understand what is at stake here I only have to think back to the start of this journey. To LA a center of western culture and way of live. Home of Hollywood with all the comforts of the west. Fast cars, free ways, malls and super stores where you can find the latest fashions and goods form all over the world. There people live in huge homes crammed in next to the neighbors who they desperately want to impress with all there wealth. We rush from place to place eating our meals in the car. Communicating by, text message, cell phone, or email but rarely face to face. People are so stressed out they need to spend there precious free time isolated for those around them with ipods, TV, and movies. Who has time to get to know the neighbors let alone help them. This is a world that could not be more different for the Marquesas.
Here an old man stops in the street to give two hungry looking strangers fruit, he just picked from his trees. It did not mater that we could not speak his language, he only laughed at the confusion that followed as we tried to figure out what he wanted even climbing in the back of his truck of a brief moment when we though he was trying to give us a ride. He we are called in off the street to look at some ones art and share a cold drink and snack. Sure the snack was raw crabs, you eat the whole thing except the shell guts and all. But it was a meal with a stranger who would instantly become our friend, we learned about each outer life’s. Before we left he would take us to pick mangos, feed us two more times this time coconut beef a bit better then crabs, and load us up with all kinds of fruit from his garden. Strangers on the street would invite me to sit and talk with them, almost always giving me some thing to eat. Here we made countless friends who feed us, took us spear fishing, invited us to play volley ball, and spent hours chatting in the shade. We taught them ultimunt Frisbee, and they gave us necklaces made of pearls, shark bone, and boar tusk. They truly where glad to know us and we them.
This is a land where they rarely wear shoes or follow the latest fashions, they eat with there hands, most of the food comes from right around them. Meals take time to prepare and are eaten with friends and family. Here they measure wealth not by what you have but what you can give. Homes are modest and shared with strangers life is slower and I think richer. Perhaps we should look at not only what we can sell to the rest of the world but what they can give to us values that we have forgotten along the way.

a simple time

2010-05-15T12:54:00.000-07:00

Powerless In Paradise

2010-05-15T11:54:00.000-07:00

To begin, let me first apologize for the infrequent updates. I know many of you are wondering if we’ve been captured by the natives, scuttled the Enchantress, and received ceremonial tattoos across our butt cheeks. This is not the case so worry not, however there has been some tattooing.

Really there are three reasons for the lack of correspondence. First is that here on these islands, communication with the outside world can be rather tricky at times. A good example would be an experience I had on the island atoll, Fakarava, which is the administrative center of the entire Toumouto archipelago. Here there are no internet cafes or anything like that. There is only one place to use the internet and only one computer at this place which is, not too surprisingly, the post office. The business hours can be unusual for an outsider like myself, so if you go between the hours of 11:30 am and 1:30 pm, you’ll have to come later (or earlier) when they’re open. Then before you can use the internet you must purchase a pre-paid internet card which the post office will be sold out of. So to acquire this you then walk 2 km through town to the very fancy Black Pearl Resort (the other place that sells pre-paid internet cards). Then hurry back to the post office keeping your fingers crossed that no one else on the island needs to use the computer or that some unexpected holiday business hours go into effect while you were gone.

The second reason for our aloofness is that the cost of communicating outside the islands is extremely high. Actually the cost of everything here in the French Polynesia is high and while we really like it here, if we don’t leave soon we’ll have to hit the corner with the banjo and harmonica hoping to make a nickel or two. Just the other day I was in the grocery store and saw a bag of Doritos for $10 bucks and box of Fruit Loops for $12 and a dozen eggs for about $25. We do without these luxuries and get by just fine on the government subsidized baguettes and butter.
Finally, we’ve pretty much had little time/motivation to write these long blog entries. Its not that we don’t love you guys its just that so much of our time is spent exploring, meeting people, breaking stuff, fixing stuff, arguing, laughing, eating baguettes, chasing fish and other wildlife, trading stuff for fruit, and sitting with smiles that we’ve had little time for computers. So there you have it and again I do apologize but here you are with the latest juicy tales of plunder and glory…
Arrival in the French Polynesia was a welcomed thing after some long, mind numbing, weeks at sea. As you may have read from Shawn’s earlier blog, Tyson was not having the best time. It turns out he isn’t the seaman we thought he might be but that’s ok. To each their own right? We did catch one heck of a fish out there though. A big ol’ 3’10” Wahoo was slain by the rod (see photo) and we feasted for two days until the meat began to spoil and we had to throw some back to sea. That’s alright though, nothing is wasted at sea no matter what Shawn might say.

The first stop was the island Hiva Oa in the Marquesas which is where you check in through immigration and have to pay a $1200 compulsory bond that you get back when you leave. But with a little savvy bureaucratic maneuvering and a sprinkle of charm we were able to avoid all that and check in when we got to Tahiti a few weeks down the road. So with that out of the way we were able to relax and enjoy the quaint little town of Atuona with some new friends from the boating community and a few local who were kind enough to show us some real cool spots. One of the better spots was along the rugged shoreline where tidal pools form as the seas retreat, leaving behind some very relaxing, Jacuzzi-like tidal pools to soak our weary bones in. Things got a bit crazy however when the tide came back up and waves started pouring in again. All good though. Some other highlights: the hike to ancient petroglyphs and “swimming hole” (kinda stagnant), free mangoes and breadfruit falling from the trees or requiring the trusty flip flop toss to retrieve, the steak and french fries on Saturday night (a local delicacy) served right out the side of a van, and one of the best memories when we met local teens who befriended us and took us to a wedding reception party that we were definitely crashing and drank till the wee hours of the night.
We then moved on south to the next island down called Tahuata. We stopped after just a day of sailing in a remote bay with nothing but a shack and a bunch of coconut trees. We spent the day exploring like we were a bunch of cast aways or maybe more like kids in the woods with sticks; just having a good ol’ time there at our first truly secluded beach. Remembering a hunting tactic I learned while living in Kingston, Jamaica, the three of us were able to capture a load of sand crabs to dine on for supper. With lighting fast speed and deadly precision, we would reach in their little holes and seize their deadly claws while wrestling them up and out into our bucket of doom. A more dangerously delicious meal I’ve never had. The next morning, a bushwack to the top of a nearby peak gave us some incredible views of the channel between us and Hiva Oa and the bay below with only beauty and the Enchantress gently rocking in the wake.
We sailed on to the small town of Hapatoni further south along the coast and quickly made friends with a local artist named Marc. We met him after walking down the short dirt road for a while and he called us up to his house when he noticed us strolling along looking for something interesting to see or do. We walked up to his house a bit reluctant at first but he waved us up with a big smile and an enthusiastic “Ia Orana!” making us feel very welcome and right at home. Marc sat down at his work table and began showing us some of the carvings he was working on or had completed. He had carved some of the most intricate and beautiful pieces I’ve ever seen including one amazing horse bone nose flute (I kid you not; I watched him play it). He was also incredible drawer and tattoo artist and after watching him do a few sketches, Tyson signed up to get a new tattoo the next day. It was pretty cool to watch Tyson getting a tattoo right there on Marc’s front porch with all kinds of yard equipment laying around and techno pop blasting out the boom box. I..want to fly…so high….over the rainbow.. I guess this helped Marc focus even if his tattoo gun did keep shorting out all the time. To show our appreciation we came back to his house the next day with an octopus I had speared as a gift. It was an epic battle between cephalopod and man but in the end I proved victorious and Marc seemed to appreciate it very much.

After all this excitement we moseyed on down to our final stop in the Marquesas, the supremely beautiful, Bay of Virgins on Fatu Hiva. We had seen a few photos of the area and were really looking forward to stopping here. It was just, if not more beautiful, than we had ever expected. Huge rock spires jut out of the landscaped covered by lush green jungle that winds it way up an enormous but still secluded valley. The town here is small but again the people are incredibly friendly and we make friends in no time.

There is a strange daily ritual here at the Bay of Virgins where sometime around 2:30 in the afternoon a local will come down to the volleyball court and start banging on a metal pole with a rock until all the people of the town start flowing down from their homes to the court, gathering for the big game. These matches will last all evening and will have anywhere from two to thirty people playing. One day we decided we share a little bit of our culture with them and brought a Frisbee into town to get a game of ultimate going. At first they saw the Frisbee and weren’t too sure about it so they just kept saying “volleyball! volleyball!” until we agreed to a couple of games. But then I snuck off and started throwing with a couple locals on the sidelines. In no time at all there were a dozen or so people gathering into the Frisbee circle for a game of toss. Once I felt we had wrangled up enough folks for a game, we walked down to the abandoned soccer field (this is a volleyball only town) and started explaining the rules with the help of a local woman who knew a little English. At first folks weren’t playing exactly by the rules but they sure were having a great time. I mean ultimate Frisbee was a hit with these people and I was having more fun just looking at their enthusiasm than I was playing the game. We played for a couple of hours till everyone was fully exhausted then just sat there on the edge of the field by a nice creek and sipped local wine and beer while some other fellas brought down guitars and ukuleles and played till the sun went down and a big bright full moon came up. Even then there were still some locals circled up in the field tossing the Frisbee around. It was a wonderful night shared with some wonderful people in one of the most incredible places I’ve ever been. The next day we came to town just as we were getting ready to leave the island and the same woman who helped us translate the rules, presented us each with beautiful necklaces made from fish bone, black pearls, and boar’s teeth. It was a gesture of thanks and appreciation for our friendship and sharing a part of our lives with theirs. We were taken aback and truly grateful for this amazing gift which I know we each cherish dearly. Tyson sports his regularly but I’m keeping mine in safe keeping.

Onward we traveled to the “dangerous islands” of the Toumoutu Archipelago, the next large island chain in the FP. Dangerous because of how low they are to sea level making them incredibly difficult to see. All the islands are atolls which are basically submerged islands that create circular rings with big lagoons inside and only a few, if any passages, into the center. Also adding to the danger is how narrow these passages can be and extra tricky to negotiate without the right tides. Because of all this danger, we decided to visit only one of the atolls, Fakarava, which has a very large passage into the lagoon. This was good for us since we have no motor and move strictly under sail power, limiting our maneuverability and speed. We made it with no problems however and cruised right into the anchored, turning a few heads and dare I say, impressing a few spectators? You see, rarely does anyone sail into anchorages, let alone drop anchor under sail so when it happens you get people saying things like: “Now that’s sailing damnit!” or “That’s what I call sailors goldarnit!” The truth is we really wish we had a working motor and are only impressing people by default but who really cares about that anyway right?
We had a fun time in Fakarava and made it to two really good parties while we were there. The first was on are very large, 140 ft or so, sailboat called Infinity which was on some kind of environmental quest reminiscent of the movie Life Aquatic, but not as clever a crew. The crew was really cool though and were all ages and from all walks of life. There were 16 of them in all and went from 21 to 72 years old or close to that. The skipper was only 24 and it blew me away to see her in charge of this enormous vessel with such a rowdy crew. The party was great too complete with a live local band, delicious food by the dance floor (yeah they had a dance floor), and crows nest up one of the mast that you could jump off of. The next party was a day’s sail south in the lagoon to the southern passage on the island. It was hosted by a slick French dude who kinda creeped us out but had a real nice resort and was very hospitable. He had sharks in his pool which gives you and idea of the set up. All night he kept playing a CD of his son’s band and telling us how original the music was while we drank an assortment of whiskies. Speaking of sharks, I had one of the most incredible scuba dives while I was here. First off the snorkeling is top notch and the best I’ve ever done in my life. There is incredibly beautiful coral that composes the entire ocean floor with all kinds of colorful fish and yes, sharks. The dive we went on was right in the middle of the passage out of the lagoon and we dropped down to a hundred feet. We didn’t hardly swim at all once we got down there; we just sat and watched as about a thousand (seriously, I counted) black tip sharks swam by, giving the occasional curious glance. Everywhere I looked was a shark gliding by, not giving us a second thought which gave me great relief because I was thinking about them a lot especially the ones with bites missing out of their fins. Also I had a really bad cut on my arm from an accident with the anchor and was wondering if the whole rumor about sharks smelling blood was true or not. All in all, the experience was dreamlike and incredibly beautiful and one I’ll never forget.
Well that brings us to Tahiti where I currently sit and write all this down. We’re going through some changes on the Enchantress as Tyson is heading home in two weeks and will no longer be with us. The only thing is, Shawn and I leave tomorrow for Moorea so Tyson, being completely broke, is going to have to get creative with the lodging situation. He’s a real resourceful chap though and I have the utmost confidence in him. A big thanks goes out to him for all his help in making this adventure happen even if he did bitch and moan the whole time. Thanks homey.
Well folks that’s about it for now. I hope this satisfies the curious minds out there and thanks for reading. We’ll be in touch.

A Journey is never about the destination but a change in the way we think

2010-05-04T18:18:00.000-07:00

The waste of life is driving Tyson mad. I can see it in his eyes, but I do not need to look in to his eye to see his frustration; he voices it every day. The hardship of uncomfortable beds, sweltering heat, bland food, and bitter water that may or may not be contaminated. I have become accustomed to these things as so much of my life at home and on the road is spent without the comforts of the modern world, often times sleeping wherever I lay my head and occasionally drinking water of questionable quality. I do not even notice these inconveniences any more. They bother Tyson , but not as much as the feeling of having wasted the last 25 days. The modern world is full of waste of our precous time. We are forced to sit in school where we learn very little of real worth. We put in time so we can get a good job and get on with our real lives. For too many of us this real life consist of a job we hate making, money at, to finance a life that allows us to go to work. Working to work. But many of us rebel against this system, replacing the god of the dollar with the realization we each only have so much time on earth. Tyson is one of these new disciples of time, guarding it as his own at all cost. All he may do is sit around wasting it a way with friends but it is his to waist. Now he is stuck on this boat, far from home, family, friends, and most of all his girlfriend. Here on the boat he feels his life is wasting a way.
This bothers me. I have always thought of my time as sacred not to be squandered or sold at any price. I have been at sea for 60 days of the last 3 months. Traveling to a place I could of flown to in a day. Was I wasting my precious life on this boat ? I have pondered this question a lot lately as we have a lot of time to think. I came up with the following ways I have spent my day, I have learned to play 3 or 4 songs on a harmonica, make an origami tulip, 3 different hemp braids, learned to say “sorry I don’t speak French” in French, have read 35 books on a variety of subjects and I can now name most constellations’ in the sky.
But that is not all. There is something more, something less tangible. What it is is a bit illusive to me. What it is came to me when I was listening to a song. I have been listening to a lot of music lately, music has a way reaching your soul, causing you to rethink the world. Last night as I was staring up at the stars trying to prepare for life back on land. I was listening to “Geese” by Joshua James. The following lines caught my attention and brought life at sea into perspective for me.
“ All the stars they gleam for the night time, and the moon reflects it’s adjacent sun, it is so hard to find real answers….. Well the grass it covers up my body, and the river it thought me to hear, and the trees have served as my refuge, and the dark it taught me to fear.”
I have always believed that nature is our best teacher. 60 days is a lot of time to study the sea and learn its lessons. But I can not say I have learned all its lessons. Learning to relax and take it slow, one can watch land approaching at snails pace when all you want to do is spread you toes in the sand. But the speed is out of your hands so all you can do is relax and let god do with you as he will. I have learned to fix things before it becomes a problem. A small tear will destroy a sail, or a bit of mold become an epidemic if left un attended to. I have learned of the vastness of the world , 60 days and I am not even ½ way around. But not so vast that we as humans have not had an impact on it. Trash floating in the sea and lining beaches, ecosystems destroyed, fish populations depleted and tortoises pushed to he brink of extinction. I have learned the value of fresh water and fruit. I have seen, smelled and tasted the death that keeps us alive with each fish we kill. Most importantly I have learned to face the fear of the unknown. We left land with a 7 day forecast after that we where sailing blind at the mercy of the ocean. What ever came at us we would have to face we had no way of knowing what the weather would do or avoiding a storm if it was coming our way. I feared storms at every change in the wind, or some on getting hurt so far from help or the boat sinking. This fear brought me closer to understanding that out life is in the hands of a greater power, as I stare at the endless sea and night sky . I realize one can not truly understand god with out spending some time in the wilderness. No wonder the prophets of old escaped to it solitude. I can not think of a place more wild and remote then the sea. I am glad I get to spend some of my precous time trapped at the mercy of god and the sea.

2010-04-09T13:23:00.000-07:00

we made it

Hey Ya´ll Wanna See Some Photographs!?

2010-03-12T17:21:00.001-08:00

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2253192&id=29705405&l=c4d4038214
Then Copy and Paste that link!

Reflections from a zoo without cages

2010-03-12T16:17:00.000-08:00

When I was young, still a child, i went with my father to the Tennessee Aquarium in Chattanooga. I remember the big room where one entire wall was the glass of a giant aquarium exhibit. Inside this towering monument which seemed so impossibly big to me were all kinds of exotic fish and mammals that I had never seen before or at least only seen pictures of in books. While I stood there paralyzed in awe, I remember seeing a man scuba diving in the tank behind the glass. It was his job to feed the different creatures and to take care of whatever sorts of things need taking care of in a place like that. I watched that man more intently than I did any other creature inside that amazing world. To me his life was so incredibly unique. We were all on the outside looking in on him go about his work in this crystal clear environment. He, on the other hand, was on the inside of this magical world. And when he looked out he saw distorted images smiling and waving him on. I wanted to be that man so badly when I was a child. Now here among these islands, these enchanted islands so full of beauty and life, I feel like I am that man.

So many people seek paradise in another place in another time and forget to check and make sure its not right here on Earth right now.

I wouldn´t consider myself a very superstisious man but when it comes to sailing I really don´t have much choice in the matter. Luck has a lot to do with what goes wrong and what goes right out at sea. No wind, weavels in the flour, grumpy port athorities, mysterious rashes? These are circumstances which are out of our hands. Thats why when I found the omen I knew things were going to be alright for us. We never really should have found it. We were supposed leave the prevoius day before but were convinced to stay by some friends who told us there was going to be a great fiesta on the playa and that we had to go. After a few rounds of the local caña liquor, we were convinced and decided to stay una dia mas. The next day we arrived at the beach a little late but not by much. When we walked down to the shore and had a look around we noticed there was no fiesta to be seen anywhere. So we waited and waited and still no one. It didn´t take long before we realized the fiesta had been canceled for one reason or another. It was then that we decided to make something of this day and take a walk up the trail to a place we had heard about called Las Grietas. I didn´t know anything about the place. All I knew was that there was a place marked on the trail map for it and some other folks were looking for it too so it was probably worth seeing. Sure enough when we got there we were real glad we made the trek. Las Grietas are natural springs that have filled up these huge cracks in the volcanic rock. Basically it looks like a river with no top or bottom. The fissure is about 30 feet across and the sheer cliffs on both sides are maybe 50 to 70 feet high in places. The depth of the water is incredible. Its almost as deep as the cliffs are tall. When I first stepped in the water was super chilly since its all fed by ground water. Regardless I threw on my mask and plunged in. At first the depth was only a few feet but as I swam out, the bottom dropped out and sank far below me. The strange environment created a very surreal sensation throughout my body and I was filled with a great sense of happiness being there. As I dove and explored this underwater hallway I struggled to reach the bottom and back to the surface in one breath of air. On one dive I made it down and as I decended toward the bottom I saw something shining back at me from below. I swam closer and realized it was a coin. I knew it probably wasn´t worth much and I really needed a breath of air but for some reason I thought I needed to get that coin. So down I went till at last I reached it. At the surface I expected to find another Ecuadorian nickle but to my surprise it was a canadian 10 cent piece. A very unusal find I thought considering the unlikely events that led up to its discovery. Then when I flipped the coin over a big smile stretched across my face as I looked down at a big sailboat imprinted on the back of the coin. Once I saw that I knew we had found a very good omen and that things were going to be looking up for us. Under different circumstances finding that coin way down there in the depths of that beatiful swimming hole would have seemed unimportant but we´re sailors and stuff like that carries a lot of weight with us. And now, with omen in hand, we are ready for the next passage.

We be sailing off of the spot this time but not off the edge of the world

2010-03-04T18:49:00.000-08:00

Do not worry when we disappear from spot coverage we are headed to a no coverage zone and will not have serous (service) tell (till) we get out of the French Polynesia. Don´t worry we will be fine and we have the Ephirb (EPIRB) if any thing goes wrong that has wold (world) wide coverage. Talk to you all when we get to land next. Peace Shawn

THE CREW

2010-03-04T18:21:00.000-08:00

Tsunami?

2010-02-27T17:29:00.000-08:00

Well, has today been interesting... Mike and I started the morning by closing the Discoteca la Panga at 4 (Shawn left around 2) and got catnaps in before Shawn woke us with an announcement that we were dragging the anchor and were on a collision course with a nearby cruising yacht. More later about how much fun last night was. We drowsily jumped into action- I took the helm, Mike finally put some clothes back on-what a bad view first thing in the morning-got on the anchor and Shawn raised the main (the engine has not quite decided that it wants to cooperate, yet.) The stern hook line had been abraded through and it was no longer attached so we left it there, its still there... The strange thing we noticed when we were waking up was that the majority of the 100+ boats in Bahìa de la Academia that were there when we went to bed were not there anymore. Something was up, so we turned on the radio to listen to the chatter and heard the port captain telling all the captains to get out of the bay because a tsunami might be coming in. So THATS how the anchor was pulled loose. We proceeded to tack out of the bay into the open water where the force of the wave woud not be concentrated by the underwater topography. After a couple-few hours the word went out that we were in the safe zone and everyone could return to the bay and anchor. Returning into the bay under sail to drop anchor fits into the category of interesting as well. Being that we were under sail we were less manouverable than all the other yachts and decided that we needed a good plan, so we came up with one that involved returning to the approximate location we had left several hours earlier in order to be close to the sunken treasure we needed to plunder (stern hook.) However, on the way in we were approached by a frantic man in a dinghy whose concerns over our means of power (sail) made me second guess our plan for long enough to make it infeasible, leading us to a tight thread-the-needle situation between 2 very expensive boats. I handed over the helm to Shawn at that point (I was chicken) and he skillfully (luckilly?) kept us from crashing into a multimillion dollar 62´sailing yacht that was a part of the World ACR rally. We came within less than 10 feet of it as we had to tack between it and the other large boat to our starboard. We looped around and dropped the anchor too close to a large fishing boat´s mooring ball. They werent there so we didn´t think too much of it and planned to move when we got the engine running properly again (this time it was the gasket on the raw water pump leaking, which caused the engine to overheat.) The fishing boat arived almost immediately. They needed us to move immediately, too. I tried to explain in Español that we were looking for our anchor and didnt have a working motor and we needed at least 10 minutes to get the sails back up get out of their way, and some of it got across. Fortunately, they were nicer than their first impression led me to believe and they offered to tow us with their dinghy to a proper location. What a time saver! They may have earned a pint of Scotch. Mike and Shawn made breakfast while I scraped some caulk off the deck to prepare for the remounting of the stern pulpit. After breakfast I went in to town to take a shower and get on the ole interweb. The shower was great after a night with 2 hours of sleep and 6 hours of dancing with beautiful Ecuadorian women, but the walk to find an open internet cafe (the whole town shut down and evacuated for the tsunami) made it seem almost pointless. That´s it for now folks, hope you enjoyed the ride.

How it began, for me...

2010-02-26T10:40:00.000-08:00

Call it a quarter life crisis of sorts, if you like. Sailing has always been a bit of a passion for me with inspiration coming from both my father and my uncles and grandfather on my mom´s side of the family; so, I was more than a little excited to read that Powell needed a crew member for his voyage to Australia. I received the mass-email days after a breakup and during a period which was particularly trying for me with my business partner relationship as well, so I made some last minute arrangements with my roommate, to send out house payments, and my business partner, to keep some ownership of the company when I returned. The days over the Christmas holiday during which the Enchantress was making her way from Turtle Bay to Cabo San Lucas seemed to drag by as I eagerly anticipated the arrival of the crew so I could announce that I was ready to go to the Pacific. With as much support as I could ask for from my family, whom I spent Christmas with in Baton Rouge and changed their post-Christmas travel plans around to see me off from Boone, and more than a little jealousy from my dad, I packed furiously and read packing lists, repacked and finally amassed about 160lbs of books, clothes, gear, electronics and some food. The weight was staggering as I made my way into the departure terminal to check in at Charlotte-Douglas International airport. I dropped my bags at the counter and reached for my passport but I´d left it on the dash of Matt´s 4runner. Amazingly, the woman at the counter agreed to watch my bag for a few minutes so I ran outside in time to see Matt turning up the exit ramp. Fortunately for me, Matt noticed immediately and circled back around to tell me 'you wont be getting very far without these...,' and I went back inside to a smooth check-in. Whew.... The flights went uneventfully and the people I spoke with on the planes and in the DFW airport bar couldn´t believe what I was setting off to do. I barely could either. More later on my arrival in Cabo and the passage to the Galàpagos Islands.

2010-02-25T17:10:00.000-08:00

2010-02-25T12:34:00.001-08:00

2010-02-25T12:29:00.001-08:00

33 Days at sea

2010-02-25T12:29:00.000-08:00

We spent 34 days at sea and some of you have been asking and wondering what happened. Why where we so long at sea ? What adventures did we have? Did we almost die? It was a big part of our trip and I guess you all deserve the right to know what we have been up to. But I am a bit reluctant to write about it. I am not sure exactly why, I guess it is a bit over whelming, could you write about what happened to you in the last month? But I am going to give it a go so here is a bit of an run down of our time at sea.
We left Cabo on the 9th of January at 11:45pm, still technically a Friday ( Fridays are bad luck to set sail on), but we are not overly suppositious and it was a technicality any way. It took us three day to log the 250 nm to Socorro Island a day more then planed, an omen for how the rest of the trip would go, maybe we should have waited the extra 15 min. But we did manage to land a big old dolphin fish on our second day at sea (see fishing stories). We passed by Benidicto island due to the fact it was getting to dark for us to land and we did not have any charts. We later found out we missed out on an opportunity to swim with mantas there but due to the circumstances we had to push on. We got to do some spear fishing and diving at Socorro and spent three days there before heading back out to sea ( for more on our stay see fishing stories). The motor started acting up as we where pulling anchored at Socorro. We could not get it to stay running and where forced to pull anchored under sail, a first for us. It was a bit scary due to the fact we had a strong wind and current blowing to the shore of a very inhospitable coast. There where a few moments of fear as we thought the boat was going to be smashed on the rocks. Just as we where starting to make head way we almost lost the anchored and chain overboard, this sent us scrabbling to secure it before it dumped back in to the sea where it could of pounded a hole in the boat, yanked us to a stop, been lost forever, or at the very least had to pull all 600 feet of line back up to the boat not fun at all.
On the 18th we started to run in to a bit of stormy weather but nothing to bad it was good practice for us as far a reefing and unreeling the sails goes. We where fighting rough sea and this made for poor progress so we where falling further and further behind. Dolphins had became a common sight we often saw them playing off the bow at night the phosphorescence highlighting there bodies like some planetarium laser show. The becalming started on the 21st we made 87nm in two days, most depressing was the fact we where not even far enough south to consider our self’s in the doldrums. It was strange and lonely to be so far out to sea we saw very few other boats some times going a week with out sighting one. The whole time where out there we talk to only one other ship, headed to Japan, but due to the language issue we could not really communicate with them. The wind picked up on the 25 and we started to make really good time again, we also had the most activity on the fishing line during this time and hooked a lot of fish but only caught one. The wind blew strong for the next few day we even did 8 ½ for a bit ( that is really fast for our boat in fact faster then she is suppose be able to go) we where leaning so far over the sails where touching the water. It was fun and pretty scary so we immediately took down the head sail and reefed the main.
We hit the doldrums on the 30th and then the motor stopped for good. I would spend several days working on her but was unable to get her up and running. I cleaned the fuel filter, and carbs but she just did not want to start. No wind little sun and no motor, every time I would try to start the motor I would kill the battery and it would take a full day to recharge so I could try again. The current is the only reason we made any progress it was caring us 20-30 nm a day. On the 4th of February we finally got some wind. On the same day we sailed right past a strange bamboo pole with a flag on it we must have been 500 nm from land and it was just floating there. The next day we would come very close the hitting a tree just floating along in the middle of the sea. There are strange things in the sea. The boredom of being at sea was really starting to set in and each of us had a moment when we where not sure we could take just floating any more it was so hot and felling trapped on the boat was not very pleasant, but once we where moving that all seemed to go away.
On the 7th Kent spotted land and but we would not make port for 4 more days. We would spend the next few day only a few nm from land but fighting currant and with little wind, progress was slow some times less then a 2nm a shift. We felt like we would never make land. The only break in the monotony was when we crossed the equator we had a bit of a celebration, we will put a video of the festivities soon. Well I hope this helps you get a clear picture of what we have been doing the last month.

2010-02-18T11:00:00.000-08:00

THE FISH

2010-02-17T14:56:00.000-08:00

I am going to write a few fish stories for today's blog entry, they are as true as any fish story can be, and may give you a bit of insight to a day in the life of the enchantress crew.

1. January 14th was an excellent day for fishing, according to the GPS. The 14th found us anchored in a little bay just west of the Base naval Socorro. Which is located on the south end of Socorro island. The island is about 300 miles south of Baja and at least as many miles west of mainland Mexico. We had stopped here in hopes of stretching our legs before making the 2000 mile push to the Galapagos. But as fate would have it we where prohibited from going on land by the Nave. So we settled for scuba diving in this world class destination. We contemplated trying to sneak ashore for some R and R, but the coast was made up of lava rocks, razor sharp and sticking every which way like the deformed teeth of a sea monster. On top of that waves pounded against the coast like a bartering ram with all the force of the mighty Pacific behind them.

The 14 was our third day on Socorro and was to be our last. I awoke with the sun and stumbled up on deck still groggy from a day of diving and spear fishing. I vaguely remembered that the 14 was a excellent day for fishing, and having had speared four fish, of unknown varieties, the day before. We where hungry again for the taste of fresh meat and anxious to try out our luck. I was thinking of all the fish we where going to slay when the one of the biggest sea dweller of them all broke my train of thought with a mighty splash. It was a huge humped back whale just a few hundred yard off of the port side of the boat. He would show him self with several more elegant leaps before heading off on his long migration. Before he was gone the bay was filled with a huge pod of dolphins jumping and playing all around the boat. This was better then sea world and defiantly a good sign. We would soon be feasting on fish.

This probable would of been the case where we in fact fishermen but we are even less of fishermen then we are sailors. We have read books on fishing from "Salt Water Fishing Made Easy" to "The River Why" (an inspirational book about the meaning of life and a fishing prodigy). But salt water fishing was not easy and I was no closer to understand fishing or the meaning of life. The only fish advice from the prodigy was to try and think like a fish which I am incapable of and to dress like a picnicker using a hot dog for bait

. We where fresh out of hot days and all my picnicking outfits where in Utah. So we stuck to fake squids and flying fish lures. Which we had lost plenty of over 150$ in lures to date. We coughed no fish on the 14 but we did manage to loose a fake squid, so it was an excellent day for fishing.

2. We have managed to get a few fish on the line and the 19 was one of those times. Just as the sun was setting (the best time for fishing according to salt water fishing made easy). The sound of line rushing out brought me quickly to the fishing pole. I quickly set the hook and began to fight the fish to the boat. Judging by the rate he was taking line he must of been a monster but who can be sure at this moment. I was quickly disappointed as the line went slack and was reeling in with out a fight. I had lost him and most likely another lure, I was furious, and defeatedly reeled in the line. Then the hunter and the hunted coughed sight of each other. He had not got away he was only swimming straight at the boat. But when he caught sight of me the mighty fisherman he jumped straight out of the water and ran for it. Boy was he big the biggest fish I had ever seen in my life. The size of a small boat if my memory servers me right and fishermen memories are always right. With a sword for a beak that would run straight threw an elephant. He was running fast so I turned the drag up all the way but it was no use our pole was no match for this king of the sea. I had no choose but to pull up on the pole to real him in because soon we would be out of line. So I fougth him with all the intensity that Santiago fought his fish but I was not have the pleasure of landing my prize. Nor would I have to fight him for 3 day, he broke our weak 150 pound test with out effort and was free. In the end it was for the best as how was I to land a fish that big, or three men to eat him and we cant drag him along side sharks would just eat our prize. If only we had brought the boy.

3. This last story represents one of two fish we have caught on a pole and by far the biggest. He cost us 75$ in lost lures and was worth ever cent. Mike caught this fish mid morning just before we got to Socorro. Only after an lengthy fight did we realize we had caught a mighty dolphin fish(not flipper just a fish) it was a least 3 feet long and weighting around 30 pounds. He was trashing wildly in anticipation of his own death a blur of yellow green and blue.

"Gaff him" yelled Mike

I had tried several time but was having trouble getting our rusty two decade old gaff to penetrate his magnificent body.

"Get him behind the gills " mike commanded fear present in his voice at the possibility of loosing his prize.

"I am trying" I yell we are all yelling now even thought we are less the 3 feet apart scrabbling to get the fish in the boat. I swung the gaff down hard and it sank in just behind the gills as I lifted the dorado, as he is some times called, in the the boat blood was shooting every where. I must of got his vain. Soon we and the cockpit where stained with the evidence of our crime. The fish turned magnificent shades of green and gold as death over took him. We felt his death and knew that for one to live some thing must die and for that we appreciated the meals even more.

To date out fishing stats are as follows two tuna, one puffer fish, four unknown fish speared, two boobies, one sea turtle, and tree well the tree got a way but we where really close to having him.

A quick update

2010-02-13T15:26:00.001-08:00

Well we finally made it. Five weeks later and I only went half insane. No, actually I´m doing fine and so is the rest of the crew and the Enchantress herself. I won´t go into the nitty gritty details right now cause I just drank two or three beers in the internet cafe and theres some kind of massive parade going on in the streets so I got to rum. I mean run. Ok so a little teaser photo shoot. Here we go:
To begin heres a few of the Enchantress doin her thing.

A few folks have mentioned how we haven´t put up any pics of the boat. whoops.

There was only a couple nights of pounding seas that shook the entire boat enough to actually produce a slight concern amongst the crew. The rest of the time was fairly calm if not a little too calm at times. Those of you who watched the Spot satellite tracker may have noticed a few days of drifting and going in circles. Sailors call that the doldrums.
Life on board fell into a routine pretty quick which consisted of sleeping, eating, adjusting sails, and a mix of various crafts such as origami, knot tying, cross stitch, magic, the memorization of constellations, fishing, and things like that.
Speaking of fishing, we had some very exciting moments out there in the wide open sea. Our first big catch was a three foot Mahi Mahi which turns all kinds of crazy colors across its skin as it dies. Sad but still beautiful. And delicious.

Then was a wild morning where Kent hooked a baracuda that was devoured by sharks before he could get it to the boat. All he managed to reel in was its 8 inch long head detached at the gills. Minutes later we hooked another that Shawn fought and lost. Then another that I fought and lost (we´re still learning) and then finally a fourth that Kent managed to reel in. It was a big ol tuna and made for a great supper.

Fish weren`t the only wildlife we came across on this passage. Surprisingly, we had some company from a few feathered friends who were hundreds (close to a thousand really) miles offshore. I don´t know what they were doing out here but it was nice to have someone to talk to other than Kent and Shawn for a little while. The first was a red footed booby who took a perch up on the bow pulpit one night.

A few days later we met a swallow tailed gull that we named Frank but later changed to Charley after we got to know him better. He would hang out on our outboard motor all day and could care less about us. He let me pet him and you could slip your hand under his feet and he´d just hop right on and stand there on your palm like some kind of a dinner tray. A cooky bird if I´ve ever met one.

Ok well thats all you guys get for now but trust me there´s more stories and photos to come. We´re hanging out in Puerto Ayora in the Galapagos now where turtles are big, boobies are blue, fish fly, and birds swim. Sooo theres some cool stuff. Aighty, Ciao!

mysterious parting shot

2010-01-08T13:03:00.000-08:00

2010-01-08T12:34:00.000-08:00

rays jumping in the bay
look how big Jesus is and see if you can find the any other things that do not belong

some pictures

2010-01-06T09:01:00.000-08:00

mending the main

this fish has teeth

oh, good morning turtle bay

casual game of chess

christmas morning on watch

artistic sailing photo

crew of the enchantress. we are also male models

casting off into the sunset

Cabo San Lucas

2009-12-31T15:15:00.000-08:00

Cabo San Lucas has been described as the worst anchorage in Mexico. It is a steep sloping sand pile that drops to a thousand feet with in a few hundred yards of shore, it is completely exposed to the wind and waves from the south, and offers little protection from the wind from any direction. What this means to all you non-sailors out there is that it is like living on a roller coaster that could break at any moment. It is really difficult to get an anchor set (stuck) and there is a very real danger of it pulling free and your boat ending up on the beach.
Those environmental hazards, be what they may, are not in my mind what makes this the worst anchorage in Mexico. The traffic along the shoreline is insane: gringos on jet skis, para-gliders, thousands of water taxis, catamaran's, patrol boats, mega yachts, cruises ships, and even 3 ski boats pulling water wienies. All these are involved in some crazy high speed competition to see how close they can get to our boat.
Cabo is not a town I ever imagined my self visiting let alone spending 2 weeks to sail to. It is the home a frat boys and spring break, and ships full of gringos getting there fix of Mexico for the day. Not exactly my crowd. Behind the gringos on the beach are resorts where a weeks stay cost more than my whole trip. Next is main street lined with pharmacies(selling drugs as souvenirs to pill-happy tourist, 1\2 priced Viagra and pain pills), night clubs where the night begins just after breakfast, souvenir shops, and a mega mall. In the mall you can forget you are in Mexico, all prices are in dollars. Here all the latest gadgets and fashions are available. You have 10,000 dollar watches, jewelry stores, ipods, American fast food, and yes, tons of tee shirts to let your friends know how much you drank while in Cabo.
This is a sharp contrast to our last port of call, Turtle Bay, with its decreped dock, and four wheel drive main street. The only shops in town were a small grocery store and a tienda where you can find electronics, pharmaceuticals, nachos, sandals and use the Internet. It felt, smelt, and tasted like Mexico, it felt like somewhere off the beaten track, the type of place I want to see.
But Cabo was where Ryan was flying out of and it is where Kent is flying in to so it is where we are. But if you dig deep and are willing to walk through the hoards of street vendor's, you can find some of the real Mexico or at least a bit of it. So because we are here, we are going make the most of it and we will hang out on the beautiful beaches, soak in the sun, and celebrate the new year even if it is the worst anchorage in the great American empire.

Our Progress So Far...

2009-12-30T13:12:00.000-08:00

Passage 1: San Diego to Cabo San Lucas

Widget powered by EveryTrail: GPS Geotagging

A shift in the winds

2009-12-30T12:35:00.001-08:00

Tutle Bay, Baja Mexico

Ryan was on banjo, Shawn on harmonica, and I was on guitar. We had just finished up a toe tappin, knee slappin’ round of bluegrass music when I heard the news. Ryan spoke up and asked us ¨How hard would it be for you guys to do this trip without me?¨ The uppity banjo licks stopped humming in my head and were replaced by a wailing delta blues. I was confused by the question at first, not knowing where he was going with this. Then Shawn cut in, ¨You’re going to go home aren’t you?¨

At first I had no idea what to say about the decision Ryan had made. I sat there the rest of the night in my bunk thinking about this major change and what this meant for Shawn and I. Ryan has a way of dreaming up great ideas for adventures and often times, we would talk about the amazing things we hope to do in our lives. Now here at the brink, he was turning back. The mix of feelings I had inside my head just left me confused and unable to say anything meaningful to Ryan that night. In truth, it was a bitter pill for me to swallow. I kept thinking of the impact this would have on the rest of the trip and how there were already so many problems to deal with before this. I was stunned that I was hearing this now in Turtle Bay, Mexico and not months before. I worried this may in some way prevent Shawn and I from being able to fulfill this dream. Were we now doomed to fail like some two legged stool? Nay. We were not.

I have let my thoughts simmer for a while and I now find myself at peace with the choice. I did not completely understand, though I heard his reasons, why he wanted to turn back after we had gone so far. The reality of this adventure is that all three of us, while we were a single crew; we still have to make our own personal decisions about what we want to do with our lives. This is what Ryan has chosen and I respect that. I know it wasn’t easy for him to tell us that he was returning home and I admire him for doing so. Also, I want to say thanks to you Ryan for all the sacrifices you made over the last year. Your contributions to this adventure will not be forgotten. So with that I say good luck to you my friend and I’ll see you when I return. May you always have fair winds and following seas on your new journey.

But what of the Enchantress and her crew you ask? Worry not. She will sail on and again with three men on board. After sending a frantic SOS email that some of you may have received, I got a response from my good friend, climbing partner, and kayaking buddy, Kent Walker. So, starting January 5th, Kent will be joining the crew for our voyage to the Galapagos Islands. Depending on how often he gets sea sick, the magnitude of his cabin fever, and severity of the scurvy; he may even stick around for the entire trip all the way to Oz! Nothing is certain yet but I’ll keep everyone posted on how the trial run goes.

At the moment Shawn and I are soaking it up in sunny Cabo San Lucas. It’s quite a place. Lots of gringos and fancy malls. I can’t believe how many times I’ve been to the mall since I got here. I swear they built the sidewalks here so that you somehow get corralled into a mall if you walk in a straight line long enough. Town is getting extra wild with New Years coming up. It’s a bit much for me. I think I’ll go spear fishing today. That should get my mind off things for a while. Be sure to read Shawn’s blog entry. I think he does a better job of conveying the ambiance of Cabo San Lucas. Till next time.
Captain Mike

Shawn: A huge fan of stereotypes

adios

2009-12-30T09:32:00.000-08:00

I knew right away there was a good chance She had ruined my sailing adventure. I was scared to tell Shawn about her. But I'd never in my life been so passionate about our grand plans for sailing to Australia so I persevered. Plane tickets, Gas, Boats, all in all the trip ended up costing me around $15,000, not to mention the countless hours of work spent preparing. But months in advance I found myself dreading our departure. I knew She didn't want me to go but She was still so supportive, even with Her subtle mentions of how often She found Herself crying. And then we left. I found myself frustrated and upset over what were fairly regular problems; the GPS can't find satellites, we haven't practiced reefing enough and have torn the mainsail for the third time, the wind generator isn't charging the batteries and they're dead and we can't cook any food without them, the fan blew up on the engine blower and even if we can get a battery charged to start the engine the boat might explode, the solar panels aren't charging the batteries, the anchor fell over board and we didn't notice it almost putting a hole in the hull while banging around for two days. Something was wrong, other than all the things that were wrong.

Most people fall in love at some time or another. It's the most common thing in the world. I don't know anyone who has bought a boat, learned to sail, and spent a year exploring the biggest, scariest ocean on earth on their way to Australia. But as much as I want to be original and interesting and adventuresome, I wanted something else more. Maybe more is the wrong word. I wanted something else too. Because Melissa is a girl who would go sailing with me, or ride a train across Russia. She also happens to be gorgeous. And maybe I can have everything I want.

So I made the extremely difficult decision to abandon my two friends and fly home from Cabo, a mere 1,200 miles into our 14,000 mile voyage. I can only hope that my money, time and effort makes the trip possible for Mike and Shawn. And I hope the people that get to fill my spot along the way for a mere fraction of the sacrifice I put into going appreciate what I've done for them. It wasn't easy leaving my scuba gear, and fishing gear, and three months of my food. But I haven't regretted coming back for a second. I have plenty of plans and adventures left to conquer and I'll be following Shawn and Mike and my surrogate through the blog all along the way.

Mike and Shawn, thanks for being understanding. I'm probably the only person that knows what you guys have gone through to accomplish what you're doing and I admire both you for being the kind of people that can follow through with plans as lofty as these. I wish you guys the best of luck.

Anyone who is reading this and is smart enough to abandon something as stupid as a job or a car payment to fly off to some island and have the adventure of a lifetime, I have two friends that are still looking for people to fill some of the legs on this voyage. A third person has made the cost of going quite affordable.

we are off again

2009-12-22T09:04:00.000-08:00

So the boat is as fixed as she is going to get so we are off to the high seas talk to you all from Cabo
Merry Christmas
Shawn

The open Sea

2009-12-18T15:20:00.000-08:00

"Hey check this out" Ryan calls for the cockpit with a bit of alarm in his voice.

It does not take much to alarm us as we are a 100 mile from any form of land and two days south of San Diego. We all scramble to the cockpit form where ever we have been hiding out trying not to throw up.

"I think that I just saw the blow spout of a whale" Ryan informs up as we scan the horizon for the latest danger.

We are no stranger to sea life, a pod of dolphins escorted out of the harbor of long beach and two others saw us on our way out of San Diego. Then late on the first day I had a run in with a pod of killer whales who surfaced just below the boat. I was sure they would sink the boat and send us all in to the sea so they could swallow us whole. Whales are not a cute and cuttle on the open sea as they are in Sea World. If one thinks they are they should only remember Jonah or more recently Pinocchio. Whale are a real threat and at this moment Ryan and sailing straight for them despite my objections. Then one jumps clear out of the water no more the 300 yards off the bow sending a sick feeling in my gut that had noting to do with the ocean. These are not the relatively safe "killer" whales I saw a few days earlier but are grey whale bigger then our whole boat and ready to smash it in two from the looks of things.

"Jibe" I scream (sailor talk for turn) and Ryan no longer wants the closer look that he had sailed so close to get. We scramble for lines and mange to turn the boat before the whale jump again and slap the water with there fins to say good buy.

Don`t think that this trip has been just sight seeing and marine life spotting. I have throw up just about two time every day. The sea have been rough, strong wind riped a sail. We haven not been able to get the auto pilot working forcing us tosteer the whole way some think not heard of since Columbus. So we have ducked off the high sea for a few days to repair the boat before pushing on to Cabo.
Hope you all have a merry Christmas

Shawny

Look real close (or zoom in). I swear they were closer than this picture makes it seem.

Why?

2009-12-08T01:01:00.001-08:00

A good friend of mine said that to sail off and die so young was a horrible waste of my life and talents. So why am I sailing? This questions haunts me on the eve of our departure date. Why am I leaving behind all that I know and love to spend weeks at a time trapped in less the 300 square feet, in the middle of ocean, with 3 guys. I am not sure exactly why or for that matter what I hope to accomplish or ever expect from the trip. But I think it comes down to three main things.

The first reason is definitely the adventure of it all. The romance of connecting my self with some thing that is so rooted in our ancestry. Man has been sailing the oceans for thousand of years; exploring, collecting its bounty and wondering what is over the horizon. I too wonder what is over the next hill and the next. I have always loved going over those hill to see new places, learning new skills and having adventures eventually those hills lead to the sea.

Sailing is the hardest thing I have ever done it involves learning a new language, becoming a weather man, plumber, carpenter, mechanic, seamstress, fiberglass expert, and oh ya a sailor. But it allows me to see what is over the next horizon and I am excited to find out whats out there, to learn, and grow. I Like sailing because it is strange and challenging to me not in spite of it. We are about to sail off in to the ocean far from the help of man there it will be us and god. There we will put our self-reliance to the test and I am excited for the challenge. It is in the struggle that I grow the best that is why I am sailing.

Lastly and most importantly I am sailing because it is a dream I had and dreams are meant to be lived. My heart spoke to me and I listened. God put together the pieces and I followed. I had the opportunity to grow up will great role models , bolt in real life and in books, who helped me realize you can live your dreams. I hope I can help those around me relive the same. That is why I sail so that you and I can can have the courage to live.

So with our respects paid to to gods of the sea we set sail in a few days to find out what is out there and live our dreams. Just Like man has for the last thousand years and hopefully will for the next.

Shawny

How it all started....

2009-12-03T18:01:00.000-08:00

I would now like to give you guys some background information. I will tell the story of how this whole sailing adventure came to fruition and show you how a series of very unlikely events brought Ryan, Shawn, and myself to this point. Let me first inform you that this is a lengthy tale with many ins and outs and may get a touch confusing. I'll condense the crucial details as much as possible just to give you the big picture as painlessly as possible. Try and keep up and you'll find that this is a very interesting story that is sure to make you smile.
In all honesty, the uniting force in all this was an 83' Volkswagon Fox dubbed the "Panamobile". In the winter of 2007 Ryan began a roadtrip with his childhood friend Garrett driving south from their hometown of Corvallis, Oregon all the way to Panama. Their goal was to film the adventure and create a documentary focusing on their experiences on the road and reflect on their transition into adulthood along the way. I'm sure if Ryan were to describe this he would have a much more elegant way of explaining the documentary but that's as good as I can do for now. The car they drove was the volkswagon mention earlier.
They reached their goal and made their documentary and soon after Panama, Garrett flew home leaving Ryan on his own with the Panamobile. This is when we ran into each other in Costa Rica. Ryan was leaving in about five days out of San Jose the day before Christmas and staying in the same hostel as I was in the small town Quepos. I had been living in Quepos for about a month going to language school and living with a host family. At this point I was finished with school and out on my own trying to figure out where to go next.
While teaching a girl I had met at the hostel how to surf, she mentioned to me Ryan's situation and explained he was looking for someone who would be interested in taking the car off his hands and attempting to drive it back to Salt Lake City, Utah where he was currently living back home. I was, of course, very interested indeed. So I approached Ryan on the beach that day where we met for the first time and talked about this whole Panamobile situation. Within an hour or so, I had made up my mind and agreed to take the car and do my absolute best to get his car back to him in Utah.
This was much easier said than done it turned out. You see Ryan had given me the keys and signed over the title in my name but the problem I had was that none of the necessary visa papers were in my name and some were expired too. This turned out to be a bigger deal than we thought. After Ryan flew home the car was pulled over by the police a number of times while still in Costa Rica and hefty bribes were used to keep us out of trouble. This became very expensive after a short time. The car itself was a police magnet you see. On the hood Ryan had spray painted his face in bright orange and blue and welded a military-grade roof rack complete with flood lights and an escape hatch that doubled as a riot shield. See for yourself here: www.inpursuitofpanama.com . After a few weeks in Costa Rica I decided it was time to move north and get this car out of dangerous waters.
Alas, this story does not go where you think it might. My time with the car was short lived. As I attempted to cross into Nicaragua with a few companions that I had met in various hostels, my plans were thwarted due those official visa papers that I did not have. The border officials would not budge on this point and they were asking for a lot more money than any bribe I had heard of.
At the border there are two sets of check points: one to leave the previous country and one to enter the next. In between there is this no-man's-land of immigration offices, border officials, and shady locals trying to exchange cash for you. This is where I was stuck. I had no other choice but to pull the car off on the side of the road between two huge 18 wheelers and say goodbye as I traveled on foot into Nicaragua and hopped onto a chicken bus.
Now this is where the story would end and my time with the Panamobile and my acquaintance with Ryan would be no more. However the story does not end there at all because I met a German kid named Phillip Shlotzhauer on Isla de Ometepe in Nicaragua. I told the story up until this point to Phillip who was on his way traveling back into Costa Rica. I also offer up the keys to the car and told him where I had left it and that if it was still there, it was his to take. Sure enough it was still there and a few weeks later I received and email from Phillip telling me of his adventures in Costa Rica and that he had also some how managed to obtain the visa papers that alluded me before. I couldn't believe it and I knew Ryan would get a kick out of the whole story too.
Months went by and I eventually had to return home to the states where I could reflect on my time spent in Central America. Ryan and I had loosely stayed in touch afterward and I mailed him a few belongings from the car he had to leave behind. Again I felt the story had come to an end and the Panamobile would remain only as a distant memory of my past. This, as you may guess was not the case. While working in Northern California I got an email from Ryan who had developed a plan to retrieve the Panamobile from the jungles of Costa Rica and drive it back to Utah where, he felt, it needed to be. Since I was the only one in touch with Phillip, Ryan contacted me to get details on the car's whereabouts. It turns out Phillip had been working on a farm in central Costa Rica for a few months and left the car with the owners after he left for home. Ryan got the name of the farm and tracked down the location through a jumble of emails and confusing phone calls.
At this point our third crew member, Shawn, enters the scene. Shawn had worked with Ryan at a wilderness therapy organization in Utah for some time and after an unsuccessful business venture in the pizza industry, he was thirsty for adventure. The plan was this: Ryan would fly down to Costa Rica alone and locate the Panamobile somewhere in the jungle while Shawn, along with three other companions, would drive motorcycles from Utah and meet Ryan. Once they rendezvoused, Shawn and company would sell their bikes and drive home in the Panamobile. Shawn had been driving a motorcycle for a month before this journey.
Things did not go exactly as planned. Before they could reach Costa Rica, Shawn and friends ran out of funds and sold their bikes in Guatemala. Two flew home shortly after and the other two, Shawn and David, were separated (I'm not entirely sure how). Shawn then hitchhiked the remainder of the way and eventually he, David, and Ryan reunited on a dark and stormy night at the very finca (farm) where the Panamobile currently sat, dank and damaged from months of abuse followed by months of neglect.
They were now on their way home again without proper paperwork or documentation and a missing muffler. Yet, they somehow triumphed. Border after border, bribe after bribe, they slowly chipped away at the countries of Central America, eventually limping back into the United States. The sweet taste of victory was theirs all the way until mid Arizona where the Panamobile came to a sickly halt under the blazing heat of desert sun. There on the side of the road the group was prepared to give it up, call it quits, throw in the towel. They sat on the side of the highway looking back at what they had done and more impressively, what this car had done.
It was around this time where Ryan and Shawn's spirit of adventure kicked into overdrive and new plans for the future arose. They had just (almost) completed a rather impressive task and were ready for the next. You can surely guess at this point what future plans they came up with.
I'm not sure where it came from. Maybe it was the overexposure to the sun or maybe it was the way the vast stretches of desert looked like water through the rising heat waves. Doesn't really matter to me. I'm just happy that when they began to run through a list of names of people they thought might be into this plan, they called me. Ryan and Shawn were happy also because before they stuck their thumbs out to hitch a ride out of that fateful desert, they got in their car, turned the key one last time and fired up the Panamobile. It made it all the way to Salt Lake City. The rest as they say is...

ch ch ch ch

2009-12-02T18:39:00.001-08:00

check it out

Preparations ensue: reflections from the bayou of Louisianne

2009-12-02T10:11:00.000-08:00

Good day everyone. This is my first ever blog entry of many to come. As some of you may know my two good comrades, Ryan Swan and Shawn Peterson, and I are about to embark on a great voyage across the mighty Pacific Ocean. We have been making preparations for the last year and will embark sometime around the 10th of Dec. (it is unlucky to pick and exact departure date). We will be updating everyone on our progress through this blog every chance we get when we arrive at various ports along the way. Our route is flexible but we have a number of locations decided already. We are leaving from our home port of Long Beach, CA and cruising down the coast of Baja, Mexico to Cabo San Lucas. From there we head to the Galapagos with a possible stop over in Coco Island off the coast of Costa Rica. Next we will head further south to the remote location of Easter Island off the coast of Chile. At this point we begin our journey west into the main body of the South Pacific. This begins with Pitcairn Island and then into the Gabiers, French Polynesia, Australs, Samoas, and so on. The exact course is undecided at this point but if you look at a map you can get a general idea of our intended course.
Our vessel is a 36 ft. Columbia sailboat built in 1969 named Enchantress. She's an old one but sturdy as can be. Onboard we have all the necessary acoutremonts to get us across this vast body of ocean included a few safety items for good measure. Also we will have an onboard satellite tracking device that will allow all you friends and family to watch our progress online. I will add the link to this here: http://share.findmespot.com/shared/gogl.jsp?glId=0r1NhbGss9QCjMkbcFnLN0TfOf0fvc8ib
Well thats about all for now. I hope you enjoy the tales of plunder and booty.
Mike P.