Blue water baby...

Finally Ravi's passport arrived on Friday. We'd applied for it when he was 5 days old at the end of September, now he's a chunky 2 ½ months. Much to every Fijians surprise a Fijian passport was never an option since neither of us have citizenship. Apart from being a little pedantic about the background of a photo which is supposed to show authorities what Ravi looks like up until he is five years old, the delays were numerous but mostly not to do with the UK passport authority. Once a countersigned photo and covering letters for all our irregularities were received, the passport was sent on the 21st November. It then proceeded to take 17 days to get here. That was on DHL expedited documents service which estimates 4-5 working days. Customs was the main problem in the UK, apparently they always sit on passports for a bit before worrying about looking at them and sending them on. At every stage it seemed to need chasing.

Anyhow back to Friday. We picked up the passport from the lovely marina ladies and then were sung out by an ad-hoc gang singing the Fijian farewell song ‘Ni Sa Lei...’ as we rowed back to Impetuous anchored outside. A sail north up to the port had us checking out just in time on a Friday afternoon... Or so we thought. 

We’d visited the port twice in the previous two days checking details would be ok for our imminent departure and enquiring about overtime fees in case we had to leave at the weekend. At neither of these visits had Peni the customs officer felt the urge to inform us that we had to add Ravi to our crew officially with immigration. Their office is in town and only open during office hours. We'd already been to see them that week to ask for a few days visa extension since we were now over the 6 months readily allowed, but no one at that time had mentioned the need for this extra form either. 

We quickly realised that we needed to stop arguing in frustration and find a taxi and get there, before the office closed in 15 minutes. We ooched and owed along the hot tarmac without shoes and flagged down the first taxi we saw. ‘Please straight to the immigration office and with the meter on please', there was no time for bargaining prices. For once no queue in immigration meant the simple and pathetically short form was filled and stamped in moments. Back at the port Peni was true to his word and waiting for us just past 4pm, his knocking off time, he didn't have the gall to charge us overtime and by half past we were free to leave. 

Smug in the knowledge that all the port officials were heading to a party so there was therefore not going to be anyone around to notice us taking a bit of time. We went into town to spend our last few Fijian dollars and back to get both dinghy's stowed away.

As dusk fell on Lautoka we pulled up the anchor and main sail waving ‘see you sometime' to friends on ‘Eos' and ‘au revoir' to this Western section of Fiji we have gotten to know quite well.

It was a gentle drift out towards the pass and a gentle drift once outside too. Still in the wind shadow of Viti Levu for many hours to come. A few squalls later then finally the SE trades graced us with their presence mid Saturday morning. Since then it has been a surprisingly rambunctious sail to New Caledonia. The forecast seemed to say 15-20 knots on the beam, ideal. However we've had the staysail stowed and the jib and main both double reefed getting sloshed by short steep waves until the last day when we've slowed ourselves to a gentle 6 knots with only double reefed jib. 

It took us just under 5 days to do just under 700 miles. Once inside the reef here in New Caledonia the sail round the island was a treat, 8 knots downwind sailing with just the jib and no more waves, Ravi enjoyed this all from his car seat. Until then we'd had to cower inside for fear of a frequent drenching from waves.

Like us all, Ravi has some places on Impetuous he loves to inhabit when on passage. Sprawled out on the leeward bunk, like everybody else is high up on the list. Fortunately he isn't too big so as not to share it. However, sharing a Lee bunk with a small baby isn't as regenerative as not sharing it; oweing to what we call the squish factor.

On passage we still sleep in the bow more often than not. Indeed with a fan on either side it's quite a pleasant place to read a book. So despite all the sloshing of the boisterous sail Ravi spent a fair amount of time in the bow. With the simple addition of his dancing birdies mobile he can spend hours orchestrating them as they sway to the rock of the boat and he rolls from pillow to pillow.

We've jammed in a spare wind vane to the side of the pilot berth, covered with a sarong and padded by a blanket it makes a great leeboard. A neat addition to what has become his bunk; with his mobile frame at one end over his quilt and an enormous pile of nappies at the other. But on passage it wasn't where he wanted to be. As the occasional wave slammed in to the hull side cascading itself across the boat Ravi would be awoken; startled, from his slumber. We call it starfish baby. Arms and legs spring out as does a certain aura of panic. Ravi didn't spend much time in his bunk.

Perhaps his favourite place is his car seat that we've bungied on to the boat. From there he can truly embrace the wonder of sailing. Smiles always abound when he is placed in it, A happiness we're keen to foster. It won't be much longer before his wriggling turns to crawling and the car seat has buckles that still work, despite the salty years of service it provided for our friends on Eos II. We haven’t told him this yet.

All in all Ravi has taken the whole experience in his stride; noticing only that whilst at sea there's always someone awake to give his head a stroke should he open his eyes when a noise disturbs him. Also at sea his dangling toys never stop dancing!

So we’re now in new Caledonia enjoying all the culinary delights a French country has to offer. The plan is to feast on baguettes, pate', cheese and wine for a few days before heading off to Australia. It will be Ravi's second blue water passage; they say that we can only dream of experiences we have already enjoyed, we often see Ravi dreaming of drinking as he sleeps. But now when he closes his eyes he has one more experience to dream of. Dreaming of blue water sailing.

Impetuous three...

Once upon a time in a land very far away there lived a handsome young(ish) man named Duncan who dreamed of setting to sea.  He bought a little boat and repaired all the old wooden parts so that he might have many adventures and learn about the ways of the sea in the great Mediterranean.

He sailed his little boat far and wide through many different countries and across the great Mediterranean. He visited all kinds of lands and met lots of interesting people but always he felt a little bit lonely. When he looked up at the stars he wanted someone to share his marvel with and when he walked in the mountains he wondered if he’d find anyone who loved to travel as much as he did. When he discovered the delights of wonderful local markets he wondered if he would find anyone who enjoyed the simple pleasures of a really good meal and who would love drinking and being merry with as much gusto as himself.  He knew that not everyone likes to sail and that lots of people get frustrated with living in the small space which a sailing boat affords. He also knew it takes an unusual kind of person to be happy when you're always needing to fix things and make do with what is available in far flung lands.

Then one day he was chugging his canal boat up to a mooring spot and a young(ish) girl called Ruth bounded out of the boat next door to help him. He didn't need any help but was glad to meet an enthusiastic friendly boater.

He wasted no time in getting to know her and they discovered they had lots of things in common. Ruth had never been sailing but was very excited to find out all about it as she loved living on her narrowboat and relished the challenges and joys which that life gave. She'd traveled by land to many places but never dreamed that it would be possible for her to own a boat that could cross oceans. They started to dream of making a strong safe home together which could have the freedom to go wherever the wind would take them and stay as long as they liked in their own home.

They read lots of books and learned what they could but alas they had no such vessel to set to sea in. As luck would have it they heard of a boat that might suit in a far off land so they packed up some food and trudged off through the virgin snow that lay on the ground on the start of their journey to Impetuous.

When they found Impetuous it was very clear that she would need a lot of work before she could take them upon adventures on the high seas. Lichen and algae adorned her dulled hull.  A strong wicked wind called Ike had swept over where she lay and stolen much. They thought long and hard about whether all this work would be worth it and took themselves off to New Orleans to glean some wisdom from the wizards of Jazz. As the clarinet and trumpets weaved their positive notes through the afternoon sun they could see that though the journey would be arduous, Impetuous would indeed be worth it.

Undaunted over the next few years the industrious couple breathed life back in to Impetuous. With the help of a kindly man, an old wise man and the magical golden rasta. Every Sunday they listened to the wizards of jazz to help prevent their enthusiasm from waning. Like a flower in spring time she rewarded their toil by revealing her beauty once again until the day came when they finally moved her to the water. A few months later she finally got to sail once more and when the couple listened to Impetuous through the sounds of her lovely mast that they had built and shaped with their own hands they could hear that she was thrilled to be back where she belonged and she promised to take them far in safety in return for all the work they'd put into helping her.

They had a party to show people around and say thank you for all the help they'd been given by their neighbours and friends. Eventually all was ready and they set off upon their journey to explore the world in the only way they knew how. By boat, using the graceful power of the wind.

And so it came to pass that the couple went exploring. From their first big passage to the big blue, to the great sweetness and mountains of Guatemala they explored a corner of the Caribbean. Even once they had aventuras sin impetuous amongst the Mayan ruins at Tikal. A big highlight was when they visited Cuba, they learned much about different ways of finding happiness and heard much more heavenly music to spur them onwards. They lived their dream and Impetuous rewarded them with being a beautiful vessel that looked after them as the seas rose.

Before long both themselves and Impetuous felt as one and they were ready for adventures anew. And so they intended to pass through a narrow canal that separated the continent of the Americas into a different sea and venture again.

But there were trolls who guarded the entrance to the canal. They threatened to set loose the hungry crocodiles that patrolled the canal on anyone who didn't abide by their laws. Our impetuous travellers bargained with the trolls giving them pieces of gold and agreed to take three elves who had been stranded on the east coast. They also took a clever pilot who knew the deadliest stretches of the canal; past the Dungeons of Noriaga and the rapids where the two oceans meet. With the help of all four they weaved themselves through the canal pacific bound.

Once through the canal they set off on their Pacific crossing. For five whole weeks they sailed towards the setting sun with only themselves and their friends the stars for company. They caught fish to eat, listened to the wizards of Jazz on Sundays and were very very happy. They dreamed of the islands to come, scattered like their friends the stars above, throughout the Pacific, that they would visit.

Above the ocean spray the cliffs rose steeply and they realised that they had found their way across the biggest stretch of sea they might encounter. Eager to discover these beautiful wild new lands they meandered the Marquesas, Tuamotoes, Society islands and Tonga.

They knew there would be a time soon when a viscious wind would streak across the tropical isles and to escape from it they would have to venture south to a land of snow capped mountains and fjords where though it would be cold, they would also be safe. They looked around the beautiful bay of islands, visited a wise retired world sailor and celebrated the new year with many of the young adventurers they had met along their way who gathered together in Auckland.

But somehow Impetuous still whispered to them, her mast spoke of more adventure and the couple were not a bit tired. Down further and further they sailed deeper in to the roaring forties where the wind howled like an angry wolf and the sea boiled like a cauldron. But they were safe in Impetuous and she looked after them just as she'd promised.

Together they sailed all the way around New Zealand; visiting the magnificent Land of Fiords and Island of Stewart before they headed north again to tuck Impetuous up for a rest amongst the Great Sounds of Marlborough.

After some work and visiting their friends and family in England they were once more ready for more travels. Since they'd learned much during their adventures, they now knew that they needed less to carry on as long as they wanted. The time had now come when the two travelers were so happy with their lives on the ocean that they thought it would be fun to have a family on Impetuous.

The next time they saw one of their friends; a star, falling to earth, they made a wish upon it; that the last of its light might spark a new life with them. And do you know what, that's just what happened. So very soon there will be Impetuous three exploring the world.

To be continued...

Budget Bonanza

It's a topic many blogs broach and people often wonder about so we thought we'd toss our hat into the ring.

On Impetuous we don't have a budget as such. We just try to make our money last as long as we can whilst having what we value. Though we did try to guess how much we might spend this last year and made that our goal to save up whilst we were in England. As we've been sailing for a year now I thought it was high time we work out how much it really has cost us.

We rejoined Impetuous in the third week of January 2014. Between then and now (the end of January 2015) we have spent exactly £7,829 on living on Impetuous. That's $11,978 (USD), €10,177 (Euros), $15,814 (NZD) or 745,869 Indian Rupees at todays exchange.

Is that a lot or a little? We have mixed views on this. It's less than we'd thought, but we always think we could live more frugally. Lets run through what this year entailed.

We've sailed over 10,000 miles this year. We left Guatemala for Belize in March then had a month in Cuba. We then spent a few months in Panama seeing some of the San Blas islands and Las Perlas on our way out into the big blue. Over three months spent in French Polynesia were a joy; sailing most days and visiting some of each group; the Marquesas, Tuamotus and Society islands. We then moved on through the Cook islands to lovely Tonga before heading down to New Zealand for the cyclone season.

So what were our main expenses?

The Panama canal was a big deal for us and cost us £650 ($1,000). You can pay more but we did it without an agent; standing our own bond, doing the tiny amount of paperwork and avoided hiring help by taking backpackers through as line handlers. It was a great experience for all. The officials were a joy to deal with and we think, on reflection, that it was great value for money.

Checking into and out of so many countries adds up, but we were saved financially by both French Polynesia and New Zealand being entirely free to us lucky Brits. We estimate around £700 (just over $1000) going on such fees this year. We may have had to pay to be in Cuba (around £150) for a month but it was a wonderfully cheap month where we were able to replenish our rum stocks for £2 ($3) a bottle and a roadside pizza cost the same as a roadside icecream; 12.5 pence (20c).

We filled up our diesel three times this year. Firstly we'd left it empty in Guatemala, then again before leaving Panama and lastly in Bora Bora where they offered duty free fuel. We'd had some windless times around Panama and then the Societies particularly while we were trying to show Chris and Jean (Duncans' parents) a good time. We've still got over half a tank left of this. That's £500 ($750) a surprisingly large amount to us; given how much we avoid motoring and rely on solar for all our electricity. The price of fuel was almost exactly the same at all three places, about £2.60 ($4) a gallon.

We use on average a 9kg gas bottle about every 6 weeks, that's £130 ($200) largely used to make an inordinate amount of tea. We've never paid for water though others certainly do sometimes. We only stayed in a marina that one time in Panama ($50 for one night... still spitting feathers) and we paid for a mooring buoy once in Tonga (12 Panga, £4) – then moved to anchor the next day.

This total also includes a fair amount of cash going to the marina in Guatemala where we'd left Impetuous for 5 months whilst we were back in England visiting family and friends, and earning money. This was $110 per month US for an excellent service; a clean boat and monthly email about how beautiful she still was (thanks Burnt key). Whilst still in the Rio Dulce we paid a sailmaker to recut our new main (which had come with the boat but didn't fit). He quoted for the whole job; re-stitching and three new reef points but we baulked at the price and decided a better investment would be to buy some sailmaking equipment and hardware for a fraction of the cost.

About £500 went on the boat; filters, varnish and said sail adjustment stuff. We were ahead on this; though we didn't leave Texas with a finished boat, we certainly left with a dependable one given all the work we'd done on her.

We have third party insurance for Impetuous. At £200 a year we think it's important. If she drags her anchor and ploughs into a superyacht the damage (to it) is covered. Also morally we want it, lest we accidentally injure anyone else. The responsibility for our own health and the boats wellbeing falls to us.

So that leaves about £4,800 (£100 or $150 per week) for flour, fishing gear and fun; pillows, pasta and peanuts; bouncy balls, bacon and beer. Our biggest spending months on these were in Panama stocking up ready for expensive French Polynesia and now we're in New Zealand where our stores are intentionally low and the availability of nice things is high.

Of the people we've met we're certainly at the more frugal end, though some do spend less. We eat really well on Impetuous. If it was a problem we could save money by buying less vegetables, no meat, less olive oil, capers, olives, whole spices, chocolate, butter and milk but we don't want or need to. We've purposefully not estimated the proportion of this total that goes on alcohol... make of that as you will!

What probably helps to keep our costs down is that we always cook at home. We never feel the urge to eat out unless there's something new to learn and it's cheap. In the Marquesas one of the main local favourites is 'Poisson Cru' which we tried at roadside stalls a few times; trying to learn the quantities of lime and coconut in which you eat the raw fish, so now we can have it at home; delicious. About 10 different kinds of dried beans, 3 different lentils, various flours, rice and pasta provide a backbone to an endless variety of meals aboard Impetuous. We love visiting local markets, trying to find foods growing wild and attempting new things; of course this results in plenty of disasters along with the triumphs.

We do every job we possibly can ourselves on the boat. We both share an interest in how things work and enjoy learning new skills even if this means making mistakes sometimes. After spending so long restoring Impetuous we really value the confidence we have in our own work and understanding her simple systems on which we rely.

In Sympathy with Bligh...

We'd clung to our anchor listening to the wind howl for a week in Bora Bora before we left. Then 24 hours out our breeze petered out to the occasional puff. Somehow in these conditions Impetuous manages to carry on in the right direction, but when we got down to one knot, we knew we were doing more harm to the sails than we were making headway. We cast a look around on the chart and spied Maupihaa (also known as Mopelia). We snuck into this atoll through the skinniest pass yet; it was only 18m across! 24 hours later the wind had returned so after a walk ashore we returned to sea.

The next morning Ruth's fever started. To this day we're not sure what it was, but she spent the next four days in bed shivering. Prior to leaving Bora Bora, we'd spoken to an English couple who had raved about the beauty of Aitutaki. 'How much do you draw?' they asked, '5ft7ish', 'oh you're lucky, you can get in'. It's funny how we, as sailors are happy to shoehorn our precious homes into a space that we just don't fit. If you were reversing into a parking space that was 10cm smaller than your car, your onlookers would never say, 'ah, a little scrape, you'll get in, you might have to climb out the boot!'. Duncan swam out the kedge anchor 4 times to drag us in through that pass and over the sandbar. Ruth struggled to steer and winch but once we were in, she was back to bed and feeling awful.

Lieutenant William Bligh left Portsmouth in December 1787 bound for Tahiti. After 30days battling mountainous seas and headwinds off Cape Horn they were forced to abandon this route and sail the other way around the world to get to their destination. They stopped at the Cape of Good Hope, Van Diemen's land (Tasmania) then stayed low below New Zealand to use favourable winds before looping round to Tahiti. His wooden sailing ship 'the Bounty' was small for the time; 85ft long 220 tons rated as a Cutter (though it had three masts) and she carried a crew of 46. Their voyage's purpose was to collect hundreds of breadfruit plants in order to transplant these to the Caribbean as an efficient food for slaves there.

Bligh steered his men through this very trying voyage with little apparent difficulty until he encountered a storm off Aitutaki. In sympathy with Bligh, as we dragged ourselves over that sand and coral our engine gave the most horrific knock. It made all manner of odd noises, ran away with itself and then died. Our concerns were heightened by the fact that we were being blown onto shallower water but luckily we were still stuck fast. After our fourth kedge we finally felt the boat even out as she found a little water under her keel. We tentatively started the engine and it gently muttered us into a spot where we could drop our anchor.

As far as we can tell, the problems that led to the mutiny of Bligh's crew lay in the fact that the men had a very good time on Tahiti. When they left, they were now facing another arduous slog of a journey in order to return to England where life was far from easy. Many of them had found lovers and made good friends in the garden of paradise that was Tahiti, and it was more than a wrench to give this life up.

We spent the next day troubleshooting the engine; Ruth from the bed with manual in hand, Duncan at the spanners end. In the background we were forever bumping the bottom, re-anchoring as the tide changed and the wind shifted and howled all the way round the compass. Still unsure what was wrong with Pip we were then Blighted once again when Duncan started to shake and sweat. We'd been there almost a week before we felt we could step ashore.

Aitutaki is indeed a beautiful island. It's hard to describe why, when it clearly lacks the iconic grandeur of Bora Bora, but the lagoon is shallow and brightly coloured whereas the island is verdant, luxurious and is populated by Maori descended Polynesian people who are endearing and delightful.

This photo was taken from climbing up the water tanks up top of the island.  That's why you see corrugated steel. This is just another beautiful tree full of the ear held flowers...

We'd struggled in the society islands to find much in the way of fruit and vegetables. This seemed in disparity to the lushness that was in evidence wherever you looked. Aitutaki was therefore a new kind of playground. When we walked away from the town we found trees rich with breadfruit, grapefruit, limes and chillis. In the petrol store they sold tomatoes cheaply, which were the most sumptuous we've tasted.

Bligh's crew mutineered off Tofua in the kingdom of Tonga, but the rumblings of discontent began off Aitutaki. Pip hasn't murmured any discontent since we left, and we're both now back to full health. Our sail to Tonga was beautifully peaceful and breezy. We'd been spectacularly unsuccessful with fishing ever since the Tuamotus so when we caught two good sized MahiMahi the day before we arrived we were delighted.

Pacific passage

We were tearing along; rather than reefing we dropped the mainsail altogether. Slewing about at 8 to 9 knots was not how we wanted to catch our first glimpses of land. Once the main was tied up Beryl (our Aries wind vane) was able to bear off on to a dead run.

Ruth went off to sleep and I got the kettle on. A couple of hours later Hiva Oa crawled out of the dawn like a slumbering dinosaur. Her high rocky craggs becoming visible; Land for the first time in five weeks.

We left Isla Mogo Mogo (Las Perlas, Panama) on Saturday evening, the 14^th June delighted to be heading out into the big blue. There were no nerves; just the exhilarating feeling that finally we were doing what we've wanted to do for a very long time.

We had a beautifully auspicious start; reaching along at 5 knots. Only half an hour out a whale sounded near our boat three or four times. We put two fishing lines out and caught Mackerel on each within an hour; yum... When the wind died down later that evening we were barely drifting along, we were pleased to see that we were still going in the right direction at 1-2 knots, the current was wafting us out.

We were expecting the first leg of our trip to be arduous however, and we weren't disappointed. The sea between Panama and the Galapagos islands is characterised by fickle winds and calms. There is talk of this year being the beginning of an El Nino which may explain why there was even less wind than expected.

Our first two weeks were hard work getting nowhere slowly and at times working pretty hard to stem Impetuous going North or backwards. For two weeks we averaged only 60 miles a day with one memorable day tacking into a light head wind with occasional squalls; out one way and then back, reefing and shaking them out frequently, making a net gain of 10 miles over 24 hours! Not entirely disheartened we gradually edged our way into the Pacific and slipped further in to the enjoyment of ocean passage making, despite the unreliable wind.

It was a welcome juxtaposition from preparing Impetuous for a long passage. Endless provisioning and checks upon the various yacht systems. Stark contrast of the serenity of actually being gone. We read, tidied and relaxed between sail changes and steering adjustments. It did get increasingly frustrating however; after nights and days of rocking on the oceans wave with the sails down, sometimes loosing the hard won miles by drifting up and back; we occasionally decided to motor a little. Slowly, but at least in the right direction.

This lasted until we were a few hundred miles north and to the east of the Galapagos. Little by little a southerly wind developed; the sails went up, the engine silenced for good and we slipped away in to the second part of our crossing; the trade winds.

For the first few days we alternated between one and two reefs in the main, staysail and yankee, our daily runs smashed through their previous poor averages. We expected the pacific to be, well, pacifying, relaxing, steady wind, rolling ocean waves, puffy trade wind clouds and weeks of comfortable steady sailing. We'd pulled in the second reef and still roared along over 7 knots. For almost the next two weeks the reefs were never let out. The yankee was furled at times partially, at others fully as we bouldered along; the lee rail awash as we rolled in the excited sea. We stayed dry, if a little hot inside as the occasional breaking wave would break into the cockpit partially filling it.

As we got closer to the equator we benefited from a favourable current. Our daily averages increased beyond what we thought possible; our record was 192 miles in 24 hours noon to noon. For most of the two weeks we were rarely below the 170 mark. Our tactic of waiting later in the season for the trade winds to fully develop had certainly been effective, if not a little too so.

I'd started peering into the toilet bowl with great interest. We were soon to cross the equator, where upon the water would swill the opposite way on route back to the ocean. For a dyslexic such as myself it takes some remembering which way it swills usually so that one can truly appreciate the change. I even thought of a sentence to help me remember; 'Antipodeans go backwards down the toilet.' As we drew closer I would spend time just curiously flushing away. Well you can imagine my delight and slight surprise when about four miles north of the equator the direction changed. As we edged closer still, I woke Ruth not wanting her to miss out on the celebration. 'We're almost at the equator,' I whispered as I gently rocked her to consciousness, 'and the toilet is already swirling the opposite way!'

Though the first two weeks were frustrating, these next two weeks of tearing along with all sails reefed, were odd. We'd look at each other, 'this is not what I expected'. We'd say. Cowering inside, trusting Beryl to keep us going the right way as another huge wave smashed down on our cabin top. A bit would inevitably find it's way in through the companion way. Our watches were fulfilled by keeping an eye on how things were going from inside. Peeking out to check occasionally, then quickly diving back inside.

With little more than 1000 miles left, there was a gradual slowing. We finally shook out our reefs, opened a few windows to allow some air to circulate and relaxed in to the final stage. We managed to put up the sunshade and sprawled out in the cockpit without fear of frequent drenchings. The sea calmed a little and puffy clouds appeared on the horizon. Our fishing luck changed somewhat too. We had lost several lures to the giants of the deep as well as having some hooks bent straight before we managed to bring our first Mahi mahi on board. With our new ingredient, calmer seas and so boat, we launched with relish into a variety of new meals. Sushi being the first.

Also with the calming of the weather our attitude to the crossing relaxed once more in to the enjoyment of the passage. Days spent relaxing in the shade as the gentle trade wind graced us. No longer pounding along, all the sails were out. We rolled on the left over waves and made a steady 6 knots. As the final days slipped away I slowly realised that I hadn't done any of the tasks I had set myself for the long ocean crossing. I am still only on tape three of French lessons. The Trumpet notes and fingering which I specially downloaded before departure remain on the hard drive of a broken computer as the ocean roll has not been condusive to taking said computer to bits to retrieve the hard drive, broken or not. The list of blog ideas has remained a list. In truth we spent almost all the time doing one of four things; cooking, eating, sleeping and reading.

So here we are. After 35 days at sea we have arrived. Stepping back into the world at the stunningly mountainous and beautifully remote island of Hiva Oa in the Marquesas. We dropped the anchor in the bay and are told the Gendarme doesn't work weekends so there's no hurry to check in yet. We'll make our way in tomorrow, relishing the miles potter in to the village to check our legs still work. 

Another country, a new flag, this time we've got the French flag with the French Polynesian flag below it.  There is a Marquesan flag too but we thought making three would be excessive.