Farewell Palau

Our passage was a gift that lead us to an even grander one here on Helen Island. We sailed under double-reefed main and alternately with a reefed jib that unfurled to its full 130% as the wind continued to decrease by the end of the passage. Leaving Koror after a swift check out our sails were filled with wind from the NE at 20-30 knots. The first day and through most of the first night we flew across the ocean on a broad reach sailing at 7-8.5 knots. The swell was small and the squalls sparse. Perfect ocean sailing. The moon filled the sky and threw light across the empty horizon almost as if it were twilight all night long. As the wind decreased we learned to appreciate slowing down as we had to arrive at Helen Reef in good light and favorable tide to clearly navigate the reefs. We have never really appreciated moving at 2-4 knots an hour but riding with perfectly set sails and a small swell with the moon shining through gossamer clouds and the squalls steering clear of us we did. I can't remember loving sailing this much or having a passage so peaceful.

It was a perfect way to come into Helen Reef, 350 miles away from Koror. After being guided through the maze of patch reefs by the Helen Rangers we fell in love with the place and our new friends. The light reveals Helen Reef in all of her beauty; reefs glow from the depths shimmering turquoise from the shallows, terns fly by the hundreds and turtles are everywhere. We spent our days fishing with the rangers who we are now grateful to call our friends, feasting on their catch, walking the beach searching for turtle tracks and watching the light change over the water. When night falls on Helen Island we listen to the black noddy terns and spent hours talking story and sharing meals with the guys, waiting for turtles to come ashore to lay their eggs.

We settled into a comfortable rhythm with David, Hercules and Paul and the island. They quickly became our new friends and the island our home. I could have stayed there for months it felt that good. And then it was over, we were overdue to arrive in Sorong with only 60 days to our visas and the weather looked good to go. It was with tear filled eyes we followed our track through the maze of patch reefs and let Helen slip into our memories.

Watch for a longer update with photos once we have internet connection again. (Unfortunately, it may be months)

***Sorry these last 2 blogs are out of order***

Yin and Yang

We just returned to town from the Rock Islands. Again. Our fifth and final pilgrimage to such a beautiful gem of a place. After three weeks of responding to the boat's problems in crisis mode we finally switched the energy and went to find some peace. But even in the remote islands of Palau, we are still connected to our tribe of people. We choose this. We want this. We haven't chosen this journey to "escape" from the world, from society. We miss our friends and family and want to be part of their lives even if it means we most often can only type an email. It still helps and keeps the connection real.

We went to the rocks to take a break, to have some peace. But when our friends and family struggle, we try to do our best to support them, even from Palau. This last week we have been riding the wave. Sometimes deep inside that glassy orgasmic tube and other times heading face first over the falls looking at that shallow reef approaching. We have had some beautiful moments of connection with our underwater friends and time to appreciate where we are. This past week we got to dive and swim with a zebra shark, a gigantic eagle ray, hawksbill turtles, huge Napoleon Wrasse, heaps of gray reef sharks, and even got to see a school of spinner dolphins swim by underwater.

Other times are minds have been distant, putting energy into the ones we love back home, trying to support their process and sending them our love. Having the tools like a satellite phone and an email connection on the boat allows us this luxury. We feel so fortunate to have this opportunity to create this grand adventure we are on, but also that we have the modern day tools to stay in touch, especially when it really matters.

Over a couple of Red Rooster Ale's at Sam's bar last night, I was talking with our Norwegian friend, Lars, who is single-handing his boat, Luna. He and I connect well and often have deeper talks then the usual, "how is your latest boat project?" and "when are you leaving for the Philippines or Indonesia?" etc...cruiser talk. Lars is an anthropologist and he is also a searcher. Searching for simplicity, searching for substance and understanding. We got talking about writing and putting out in the world our thoughts and feelings, about the act of making this happen even when it's not part of your "job". I told him about what Nic and I do with our website and how it all started as a way to tell our stories and show images to our close family and friends. We wanted to stay connected and felt almost an obligation to keep them updated on our lives. Lars, on the other hand, doesn't have email connection on board his small yacht and doesn't write at all. His journey, he says, is for him, and he doesn't feel like he needs to be in the limelight at all, he wants to be "on his own" and not feel like he wants any pressure put on him about writing.

Talking with Lars I felt like I was peering at a reflection of myself 10 years ago when I lived out of a truck and backpack and traveled around the western United States working as an instructor for various Outdoor Education schools, most of the time for Outward Bound. This was before most people had cell phones and personal laptops. Before email took off. I had chosen for about 7 years of my life a very nomadic, non-conformist lifestyle where most of my time was spent working with students in the wilderness of America. When I had time off from working courses I would still choose to be out rock climbing in Yosemite or J.Tree, skiing powder in Colorado or the Sierra's, or backpacking through the ancient Anasazi ruins of the deserts of Utah. I lived simply and frugally, with no savings account and usually only a few hundred bucks to my name stashed under my truck seat. I didn't want to stay very connected and I didn't want to write very much, let alone take photos. It was a simple life I chose and I desired to connect to nature and my own inner-self on my own terms. I was a searcher and much of who I am today is because of those formative and powerful times in my life.

My point of this story is two-fold. First of all, us "cruisers" out here in the oceans are a very mixed lot and we each have a different story to tell and varied reasons for choosing this life. Some of us are truly "escapists" and only desire to be left alone and be detached from the average societal worries and pressures. Other cruisers want every piece of technology available on their boat and want to be plugged in to every current event happening in the world. We are a small little tribe in the sailing community, but even in this little niche we are vastly different.

Second of all, Nicole and I choose to keep up on this blog and website because we feel it is important for our people to hear our stories and glimpse our world. Since it's conception 2 1/2 years ago, our little website has really grown and I now get emails from people reading our site from around the world. We are humbled by that, but also flattered. Having to feel a bit of an obligation to write and spend the time processing and posting images isn't a bad thing. In fact, for someone who needs to have "structure" to keep it happening, like me, it is a good thing. If no one cared, if no one was reading this, would I really keep it up? I don't know. But I do know that we are glad we can, that we have the means to email, take good images and process them onboard. We are grateful for the means to stay connected to the ones we love and to keep them hip on our little world out here in the blue, as well as to support each other when we struggle.

This last month has been a mix of soft and hard. Peace and turmoil. Ease and struggle. Yin and Yang. Nic and I are back in the town anchorage looking at our last 9-10 days before we leave Palau and go on passage to Indonesia. Our boat projects are finally getting checked off, our computer's and alternator are finally working again, our passports just arrived back from the U.S. where we got our Indonesia Visa's processed, and our boat is slowly getting filled back up with new food and supplies for the next year's adventures. We are grateful we can share our story with all of you.

Keeps on Giving

Palau keeps on giving. Last week our new instruments arrived. Dreamkeeper is getting a few upgrades. Gar successfully installed a new wind gauge and anemometer and tri-data giving us speed, wind, and depth, and he got to know our boat even better with his valiant but unsuccessful installation of our brand new autopilot. Why did we need new instruments? Sadly, neither the anemometer nor the autopilot can be fixed again. Both were serviced but without success and we like to be in control.

Our anemometer has been off and getting progressively worse. It must have been at least 7-10 knots low in high winds. So we apologize to all of you sailors we thought were telling tall tales with wind speeds of 38 knots rounding Tahuata, and, Far Niente, we definitely saw over 30 knots in the Pacific. What will I do now when I know the true wind speed? A wise man said knowledge is power. I hope he is right.

We have to get the gremlin off of our boat. The autopilot is possessed. It has a habit switching course 180 degrees at will or taking over completely when the wind vane is on. An out of control autopilot is dangerous let alone maddening. We replaced the old fluxgate compass and the "brains" were diagnosed once and they couldn't find anything wrong so we broke down and bought a new one. Unfortunately, after hours of trouble-shooting Gar finally called the service department and got one more test to do, nothing. This one's brains aren't working right either. So, they've been returned to be fixed or to be replaced by a new one. We're sitting on our hands. Fingers crossed.

It's been raining all week. We've both been on the Internet ordering last minute parts and goodies before Gar's parents arrive. I helped Gar run wires and a new topping lift when the clouds broke. The most rewarding part of my week was getting the satisfaction of winning the fight on mold on our salon cushions after soaking them in seriously magical Nappy San and scrubbing them with a soft brush. I don't think Nappy San exists in the States but you've got to find something similar maybe Oxi Clean comes in second. The stuff is magic on mold and is reputed to be good with wine too. Our cushions look brand new. Now I'm merely battling mold everywhere else it grows: on the fiberglass, our lines, the wood... The sacrifices of living in the glorious tropics.

Nothing is ever fast but we feel really lucky we are here where things are easy. It can't get much better. Sam's offers free moorings, free dingy dock, free mail service, free water, fuel and internet right at the end of the dingy dock, a bar to quench our thirst or dull the frustration and tasty eats to fill our bellies after a long day, let alone dive boats to take us away. Don't misinterpret, we haven't turned into bar flies yet.

We consistently broke our days up by paddling or swimming under rain-studded skies. One day we paddled around the headland of Pincher's and found 10 black and white banded sea snakes cozy in their holes. Usually we don't mess with nature but when we saw a baby sea snake being eaten alive by a crab tail first we had to do something. Paddling further around the undercut island we found a few more snakes tucked into holes in the sharp limestone cliffs. The consistent patter of rain was only broken by the swell being sucked under the cliffs and spit out gurgling.

We celebrated the end of our week with a day of diving with Sam's at Ulong channel and Siaes Corner. Slipping into the water everything seems to float away. These days when we go diving I feel like we are returning to see old friends and yet we consistently see something new on every dive or snorkel as long as we are looking at the world with open eyes. This time we saw 7 juvenile grey reef sharks no longer than 2 feet long. Also we spotted juvenile Pompano's, a silver fish with streamers we have been wanting to see since entering the Pacific. Turtles swam lazily beneath us and a juvenile spotted eagle ray flew by at the end of our day. Like I said, Palau keeps on giving.

Rainy Dayz

It's dumping buckets. Laying in bed listening to the steady drops of water bathe our deck, we snuggle under our lone thin sheet in our V-berth and enjoy the early morning coolness of the air, attempting to avoid the dripping hatch above our heads. Almost 8 o'clock in the morning and we are finally getting up, a rarity for us out here in the sunny tropics where we find ourselves usually having our morning tea and coffee when the sun is rising around 6. It feels like Sunday, but actually it's Monday here, Sunday in the States, good enough for us to have an excuse to chill out this morning and enjoy the rain. Sourdough pancakes anyone?

How sweet it has been this past month here in Palau. Not only did we have a great time adventuring with Nicole's folks, Bob and Michelle, but we have been able to settle down and relax from traveling so much this past year, get ourselves organized for next year, and start on a few of our boat projects. On top of that, we've been able to do some amazing diving and exploring in the Palauan Rock Islands.

But here I need to also mention a huge bonus of us being in Palau. You see, we can actually get packages here from the states in a little over a week as Palau is a protectorate of the U.S. and uses the same postal system. This is so great for us as there are many things we needed to send back to the States, especially the heaps of Solomon Island wood carvings that filled our quarter berth, and many things we needed to get for our boat for the next year or two. But on top of that our friends and family have hooked us up! And this is where we need to acknowledge a huge Thank You! Not only do we have a nice stack of recent magazines to read like The Economist, Newsweek, National Geographic, Dwell, Latitude 38, Cruising World, and Climbing, but we have also had friends and family send us fun treats like gourmet tea, super powered Peet's French Roast coffee, delicious cookies, real licorice, mermaid pants, a new T-Shirt, travel guides, new movies, music and books! Thank You Mom and Dad Duke, Thank You Mom and Dad Friend, Thank You Gia, Thank You Justin, Thank You Clare, Thank You Zack, Thank You Heather, and Thank You Thank You Alicia, you guys are all rock stars!

Looking at the weather files we see a big low-pressure system sitting on top of Palau. It has been raining here a bunch this past week, but this morning we are really socked in. It reminds me of growing up in the Puget Sound of Washington State, but much much warmer. We had high hopes of starting to install some of our new instruments today, going to the hardware store, maybe even starting to prep some of our toe rails to varnish. Plan B?

But what have we been doing this past week? Since Bob and Michelle left, it's been mostly business for Team DK. Two new additions to our project list have been our computer dying and our outboard engine not running. We should be thankful that our Dell computer has lasted as long as it has. It was 5 years old and over 2 years on the boat. Not bad really when you hear from other cruisers that you are lucky to have your computer last that long. But what a bummer when we depend on it so much for everything from email, website design, photo processing, running boat navigation software, tide and current software, and storing all our documents. Luckily we found a local computer guru tech to pull off our data that we hadn't backed up on the hard drive. But, as you know, this all takes time and we have had to buy a new computer.
Then there's the issue with our outboard. When we first got to Palau and headed out to the Rock Islands for our Xmas diving adventures, I had the bright idea of filling up all our jerry-cans with unleaded fuel, even the ones we usually use for just diesel. Oops! After a couple of weeks our engine suffered and I was cleaning the dirty fuel filters constantly. Looks like the diesel grime and gunk in the bottom of the jerry cans mixed in with the unleaded fuel and created a sludgy monster I have been dealing with ever since. Even though we have 2 fuel filters on our Yamaha outboard, some of the dirty fuel got in and clogged up the carburetor. I found this out after I met, Ramon, my newest Philippino Yamaha mechanic friend who helped me out for 2 days. Finally after much fiddling, testing and cleaning we took care of the issue by soaking all parts of the carb in solvent for 2 hours and now Super Dingy is back in action. For all of you out there who don't know what it's like living on your sailboat, your dingy in indispensable when cruising. It is our method of transportation everywhere. When your engine doesn't work, you row. When it is windy and rainy and you are anchored a long ways away, you row for a long time, or maybe you don't go at all...maybe you can't go at all. Like I said, a good reliable dingy is essential.

So when the rain stops again we will move on to installing our new wind and tri-data instrument, hooking up a new autopilot, fixing electrical issues, installing a new hatch, putting new gaskets on some portholes we can no longer open because of leaks, hand-washing all our salon upholstery, cleaning the indefatigable mold, and varnishing all our teak that is in suffering in the intense UV of the tropics.

But, to attempt to keep balance in our lives, we will keep up with our afternoon routine of kayaking out to Pincher's Cove and swimming laps, even in the rain.

Giving Thanks

While all of you Americano's sit down to feast on some gobble, Nicole and I peer at the calendar and realize it's our 2-year anniversary since sailing away under the Golden Gate Bridge of San Francisco. The synchronicity of it also being Turkey Day here in PNG, we dive into the bowels of our little freezer and pull out some Scotch Filet steaks from Vanuatu, our last of the treasured organic top grade beef we still have onboard DK. Accompanied by some sweet potatoes and some fresh greens, tonight we will have our own type of special meal to celebrate the big events.

It's been 2 years and roughly 14,600 nautical miles since we slipped out of Pelican Harbor and headed south to Monterey Bay. Looking back on it all, it seems like yesterday, and at the same time it seems like a decade. It's amazing how much our confidence has grown, how much better we know our boat, and how much more we trust ourselves to be able to deal with almost any situation that comes up. We have certainly slowed way down and most of the time we have learned to become more patient and flexible. Sometimes we still struggle with the patience piece, not sure if we will ever make peace with that one.

In the last 2 years, we've traveled to 11 different countries and we're on our way to number 12. We have counted 64 different islands we have anchored at since leaving Mexico; countless more we have visited. We've sailed along with humpback whales, gray whales, false killer whales, pilot whales, spinner dolphins, pan-tropical spotted dolphins, and bottlenose dolphins. We've eaten abundantly from the sea: crayfish, crab, mahi mahi, wahoo, yellowfin tuna, and reef fish. We've spent time and shared stories with so many great local people, as well as the hundreds of yachties we have met from all over the world.

We realize we are fortunate to have this life and yet we have chosen it and made it happen. We are the first to admit it is not always easy, and sometimes it just plain sucks. Sometimes we feel very disconnected from our families and our close friends. We sometimes dream of having a little piece of land, a little house, a big garden, and access to beautiful open spaces where we can walk and run and ride our bikes. These are all the things we have given up to be where we are now.

It's been 2 years and we are finally almost out of the Pacific Ocean. We have been through Polynesia and Melanesia, and we are on our way to Micronesia. Then, in April of 2009, it will be completely new worlds, new cultures, new languages, and new religions when we sail into the islands of Indonesia. We are not even half way around the world, but we are almost half way done with our journey. That means the next 2+ years we have some serious miles to put under our keel. Palau will be our last extended "rest stop" of over 2 months. Right now we are looking forward to that rest.

So today we give thanks that the dream has taken us this far already and is still going strong. We celebrate our health, our boat and home DK, all the people who have welcomed us into their homes, and our friends and family that have believed in us.