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For the past four years Vick has not driven a motor vehicle of any sort. Today that streak ended. We picked up scooters and hit the roads of Karimunjawa to explore. No ID or paperwork was required, just a little cash and we were good for the day. We didn’t have gas, helmets, or even maps, and it wasn’t entirely clear that the scooters would start (p.s. they often did not). Google doesn’t show roads here (could be because most of them really are not actually roads). We had SO much fun!

We take birthday wishes seriously in Convivia. We keep presents small and homemade, as the real celebration is in the cake. Cakes are dreamed up layer by layer, often years in advance. Olive wishes for her eighth birthday were a stuffed mouse, a watch, pizza for dinner, and a caramel, chocolate, marshmallow and chocolate ganache layer cake. All of her wishes seemed totally reasonable thanks to my mom sending a birthday watch to us before we even left Brisbane. I had a stuffed mouse pattern on board, along with fabric and stuffing. I stowed a stash of Belgian chocolate under my bed in June and in Darwin I packed into my teeny tiny fridge the cream, butter, and mozzarella necessary for the big day. Somewhere along the way Olive decided on a bigger wish, “I want to see dragons on my birthday.” ...

We arrived in Australia almost exactly two and a half years ago. Pulling into Brisbane after 15 months of cruising seemed decidedly like the end of our adventure. We were trading sun soaked beaches, a persistent, intimate awareness of the weather, sundowners with dear friends, and nearly daily boat maintenance for the relative ease of city life, a stable job, and weather that wouldn’t really affect us. What I soon discovered was that it was just the start of a new adventure, one punctuated by forging new relationships, and building a life in a foreign country. Making this foreign country feel native—navigating the subtle cultural differences, finding our community, as well as coming to the understanding that all the animals that could kill us here, wouldn’t necessarily (under normal circumstances) want to kill us— was just as challenging and exciting as when we sailed through Mexico, or the Marquesas. ...

From time to time, in the course of my travels, people have asked me about “home.” By this they usually mean the USA in general or one of the specific places I’ve lived. When I talk about the good things, I almost always start and end with community. I tend to describe (my) New England as a place where community is valued highly, and then give specific examples of the types of activities that illustrate this value. The coffee social we organized when we lived Mountain View was one common example, but this New Year’s Eve will be my new favorite (if I can find a way to encapsulate it). ...

I’ve been meaning to sit down and put my thoughts to words for a week now. Arriving in the United States after 3 years abroad was certain to be a bit of a transition. This long separation is compounded by the nature of my lifestyle: the constantly shifting landscape (literally and metaphorically); the unique challenges of a life at sea; establishing myself for life and work in a (not so, but still) foreign country; and the very real fact that I have, over the past 3 years, manifested a life that is as close to my personal ideal as one can get while still balancing the needs and desires of three other individual beings. ...

I have a hard time assigning superlatives. I tend to experience life in an abstract way that doesn’t depend heavily on specific, quantifiable metrics. So when I say that this was the best day ever, take that with a grain of salt. There were other best days. They might have been better, who knows. Not me :) Today started slowly, in the usual ways. After coffee and breakfast I headed up to the cockpit to knock a quick tiller repair project off the list. With that success behind me I focused on the horizon. ...

We had been stuck on the boat for 6 days. First for sailing and second for weather in the anchorage (35 knots, come on). We finally rowed against said wind (maybe only 20 knots), to spend the morning on shore. We were greeted by a slightly kitsch “cruiser’s camp” that sported a very helpful trail map. When you discover a map, there is only one thing to do… ...

When I was younger (let’s just say I was 10) my uncle would entice me to row him across what seemed like an endless [Muscongous] sound to Loud’s Island, by making up silly stories about a fellow named Barfoolean Farkwar. Barf would do things like set out to sail without a sail. When he realised his blunder, he would split all of his underpants in half, and sew them together to make a stinky sail (Barf wasn’t much for hygiene). ...

There are many kinds of books and as many kinds of book lovers. So please read the following from your own perspective and not through my eyes. You know that feeling when you pick up a good book, and you just can’t put it down? You know the feeling when you get to the end and desperately hope that the author writes a sequel, or another book as good as the one you just put down? I love that feeling. That’s how I want to feel about my life. ...

You have seriously got to be kidding me. I love this city so much I want to dig up the homes of my family and friends and move them all here. Today we went to the Queensland State Library with the kids. We tricked them (yes, I am that devious) by telling them about the Augmented Reality treasure hunt that uses the ipad to find clues. In reality it is the best ruse ever to get kids to follow their parents on a magical tour of the coolest library I have ever been to. ...

Mystery Island is a little sand spit in the lagoon that we anchored in at Anatom. The island is haunted—or so the locals believe—and this makes it uninhabitable for any ni-Vanuatu. The interesting thing is that they don’t mind going over there for the day to sell cheap “made in China” trinkets to cruise ship tourists. They get a lot of opportunities to do this too as a cruise ship pulls in every 3-5 days (in season) to barf out a few thousand pink gaudily dressed tchotchke-hungry consumers. As a result the island has been “developed” into a kind of Survivoresqe theme park, part tasteful thatch shelter, part gauche photo-op, but all very interesting if you happen to go over there when the show isn’t on. ...

As we made our way across the Pacific we were perpetually asking “can we spend a little more time here?” After ~10 years of putting off today’s desires in favor of tomorrow’s dream it was finally time to say “Yes, why not!” The down side to this was that we knew that every extra day we spent in today’s paradise would be borrowed from tomorrow’s. You can only defer for so long before the cyclone threat starts making your choices for you. ...

When I heard Zinnia was planning to move to Penrhyn I thought to myself, her mother may never see her again. And I thought that my children may end up moving to a place somewhere in the world, a place so remote that Lonely Planet only has five sentences to say about it.

Four days after making landfall on Hiva Oa we sailed into Baie Hanavave on Fatu Hiva, the most beautiful place I have ever seen. It is the most beautiful place I can even imagine. The hills are high and covered with a hundred colors of green. Palm trees lean toward the ocean cliffs. The grassy areas are dotted with mountain goats. The sky is a dark blue, heavy with mist, and threatens to explode into a squall or a rainbow. I wonder if rainbows are overlooked here. I can’t find a local person that can tell me what they’re called in French or Marquesan. ...

There is a distinct playful, childlike pleasure to be found in sailing a small boat. Sailing a bigger boat is blissful, calming, empowering, but it requires serious prep, planning, and attention too. When Olive woke up on Monday morning and exclaimed “Today looks like a GREAT day for sailing,” I immediately petitioned the Interwebs for local friends with boats. You can imagine my elation when, a few hours later, a Facebook friend (Diana Roberts) offered up Liliana, a Herreshoff 12.5 (aka, Buzzard’s Bay Girls Boat) for our pleasure. ...