The kids eat breakfast, tell us that their schoolwork is done and dash off to see their friends. There are two kid boats here right now (Eva and Yemaya) and five extra kids mean that there is never a dull moment for them. Vick and I take advantage of this new freedom to explore the town’s coffee shops and cafes. In the evening, we go to one of the neighbor’s boats for sundowners, tattoos, or an impromptu party. Life is sure enough good! ...
The Indian Ocean is not my favorite ocean! Perhaps there has been another blog post of the same name; this is not a fun blog post; or a feelings story. This is just a tally; an acknowledgment that our exhaustion after a year and a half of travel is well earned, and a shoutout to the folks who live that cruiser adage “it’s just what we do [for each other].” We’re not entirely done with the Indian Ocean, but we have certainly crossed it. These nine months on this ocean between Indonesia and South Africa were hard on Convivia and challenging for the crew but as my friend Diane told me a year ago, “The Indian is rewarding.” ...
I’m tucked into the corner of the settee, wedged in with seven pillows so I don’t move and I don’t have to support my own body. The bucket is next to me but I’ve taken my seasick pill and I hope to sleep instead of vomit. The dorade vent that goes under water only drains on the outboard side of the box, so instead, when it fills, water pours on my right shoulder. Some of it makes it into the bucket so I feel pretty clever, but I still don’t want to move much so the pillows and the settee and my down vest get wetter and wetter. ...
Yesterday I unlocked a life achievement. While snorkeling at Tany Kely, I noticed a sea turtle. He was having a leisurely lunch on the reef far below. It was deeper than I normally free dive, but I wanted to chill with him so badly that I just took a breath and went for it.
We have seen lemurs already (in Russian Bay) but all of us were excited to have a better introduction to them at the (locally) famed Nosy Komba lemur park. The island is a weird mix of eco-tourism and authentic Malagash culture. It’s like a cleaned up Nosy Be. The pathways were all kept immaculate and the arts and crafts stalls boasted some of the best finished work we have seen in Madagascar. ...
Five years ago, a teenage girl died in the small Malagasy village of Antanambe. She was buried, as is her family custom, with all of her relatives, in a small plot cleared from the rain-forest in Verezanantsoro National Park. Here she awaits the decay of her corporeal form, so that she may finally join the spirit world. In the meantime though, she becomes lonely. The song and dance, the strong tradition of love and support that her village offered in life, is absent in death. ...
Cruising is a social experience. We hang out with our sailing friends almost every day out here, sometimes it’s for an hour at sunset, or a beach bonfire or potluck, and occasionally—if we get lucky—we strike up a friendship with a local, and get to see a different perspective on our current locale. This past week has been bomber. We had a birthday bash on Wunjo for Jean-Michel, an authentic Swiss Fondue with our good friends on Mares, and topped it off with an amazing BBQ with our new friends Herman and Jane.
We have been here, in Mauritius, for a few weeks and haven’t really ventured out of the incredibly comfortable anchorage of Grande Baie. We see the impressive spires, off in the distance and remark that we should probably go check those out before we leave. On Friday night we ran into Herman again, and she invited us to join a group of her friends for a hike up Le Morne Brabant. We couldn’t turn down such a great offer, even when it came with a 5am wake up call. ...
A few days ago I was told that my dorades were dusty. The next day another person mentioned how dirty my decks were. And yet another person asked me why I had so much crap in my cockpit. All of these criticisms hit me deeply and personally and brought back every single boat insult ever slung my way. I emotionally fled to a perfectly polished tiny cottage where I could live alone in shiny silence with a hand blown glass vase full of pink peonies on the table and not a single crumb on the floor. ...
There are places in the world that feel like home from the outset. These are the places where you feel yourself exhaling in long comforting sighs; where you recognize people whom you’ve never met, and they greet you as friend; where there is a familiar smell (chill in this case) to the air, and a landscape that seems ancestral, though your predecessors may never have come within 10,000 miles of the place. ...
Imagine you are sitting down, enjoying dinner. It’s Taco Tuesday® (but on Thursday, because you have no sense of time). Suddenly the salsa jar becomes a projectile, it jumps straight up, then banks hard to the left and hurls itself at you, missing by inches. The jar (which you forgot to put the lid on between scoops) explodes, covering your last clean shirt in a delicious yet inevitably perishable blaze. You sigh. ...
Our last anchorage was so beautiful and relaxing that we didn’t want to leave. The thunder and lightning almost gave us the excuse we were looking for but, time and international clearance rules wait for no one. On to Nias and Telo for the last (fun) bits of our Southeast Asia adventure!
The pace of life aboard Convivia has shifted. The hectic days of boatyard stress are behind us, as are the days in the Marina, fixing those last few (critical) systems. We’ve found a sleepy beachfront to anchor in front of and, with no transportation, have settled into leisurely days of kids floating beside the boat, easy conversation, and no plans to speak of. This transition to cruising-proper is one that you can’t see but in hindsight. I think it started three or four days ago when we returned our scooter. It was given a boost by our recent depletion of funds, which strengthens our resolve to stay put. We’ve got another kid boat nearby (Quasar) so ours have a friend to occupy the day. They come home exhausted and hungry, and crash out early, leaving plenty of time for Vick and I to play games and share a couple of ciders. ...