Friends

The exchanging of tattoos has been one of the absolute highlights of my time here in Cape Town. It started with a promise I made to Brady, back in Durban, to finish his calf tattoo. Once that was complete, Brian and Karin wanted ink too, and then it seemed like every second or third night, someone was getting inked. We only have a few days left here, but the queue is still forming. It’s been gratifying to see my skill improve (marginally perhaps) and to share in the incredible bond of trust and openness that this ritual engenders. Huge gratitude to these special people who have shared their skin and trusted themselves to mark mine! <3

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! ...

Here’s a short but fantastic video done by the same guy that did New Year’s Ink Audio Credit: Ehrling Video Credit: Wayne Willis

One of the things that I have been surprised with over and over on our trip around the world is how many times virtual strangers have offered to level up our experience by showing us their favorite places. On New Year’s Eve we met Wayne, Robyn, Steve, and Mandy and invited them over to Convivia for a little celebration. They showed up with the 3am Delos tattoo party, and before they left had invited to take all seven of us up the Sani Pass to Lesotho. This pass is listed on Dangerous Roads dot com (let that name sink in for a sec) where they make special note of the carcass of 4x4s that didn’t make it, littering the ravine below. Vick was just elated by the proposal (sarcasm). ...

This is where we bid au revoir to this country that has fascinated us with its warmth, diversity, creatures, landscape, and spirit. Majhunga, a city that cruisers alternately describe as “too dangerous” or “enchanting” is far from the crystal clear water of Tany Kely, but promises an easy clearance and provisioning for our trip across the Mozambique channel. Ready as we are to see what lies beyond this next horizon, I feel now that our time here was too short. There were so many places that we sailed by that I would have liked to have lingered in, and so many conversations that (due to my failure to learn the local languages) were not had. ...

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. ...

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. ...

Back when I was a dirt dweller, I used to buy coffee beans from this little warehouse in Oakland. The company, Sweet Maria’s, was owned and operated by a guy who personally flew around the world, visiting plantations, sampling coffee beans at the source, and then buying small batches from the best of them. I have wanted his job ever since. When I imagined this sailing adventure, I pictured myself, sailing through the world’s finest coffee growing regions, making dozens (if not hundreds) of forays into the mountains to restock my ever dwindling supplies of green beans. As the journey wore on, it became apparent to me that this dream was (perhaps) a bit unrealistic. The resources and local knowledge needed to find and visit the farms change with every locale, and the time and money needed to make the trips is not insignificant on our modest budget. ...

In every other place that we’ve spent an October 31st, it has seemed like the holiday would at least have been heard of. Port Villa, maybe less so, but they get enough expats and tourists, that maybe someone spilled the beans. And indeed, when Ruby traipsed through the markets with her fairy gown and Vanuatan headdress feather, it was taken as cute, at worst. Here on Pulau Parang, it is quite clear that our foreign holiday would be about the most mysterious and possibly offensive sort of festivity. So we decided to have a quiet celebration between the two boats (Peregrine and Convivia). Last night we got together (sans Vick, who was feeling ill at the time) and made arepas, and fried eggs, baked potato wedges, and watermelon drinks, while painting each other’s faces, and carving… you guessed it (no you didn’t) watermelons. ...

I don’t know what exactly it is about passagemaking that brings out these feelings but it’s so common as to be a phenomenon. Despite the sleep deprivation, and subtle (and sometimes acute) hardships of crossing hundreds of miles of ocean. Despite being cramped in a small, often roughly rolling vessel with two lovely but demanding children, I often find a moment, or a long string of moments where I am just so overwhelmed with gratitude for my great good fortune that it feels transcendent. ...

The sky feels too low here. That was my first and most enduring sentiment about Darwin. I also have an overwhelming desire to open my photo editor and drop the exposure, turn up the contrast, add a bit of saturation, and mess with the white balance. What Darwin lacks aesthetically, it more than makes up for in hospitality. On the business side, I have never had more things gifted to me. Including engine parts (small but significant, and delivered to my door), ice cream for the kids, tiny glass bottles with a scroll for messages, and rides. The kids are free on the busses, sailing club, and generally (it seems) anywhere there isn’t a specific kids price. ...

I don’t know how many times I uttered that terse phrase yesterday. Saying goodbye, it’s… Hard. Rather than sputter on sentimentally I’m just going to post a ton of random pictures of some of the people we’ve come to love in our too short stay here. Thank you all for making our going away party such a touching success. We will miss the heck out of you!

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). ...