Sailing is an unfathomable experience to many landlubbers we meet. Some cannot comprehend spending weeks at sea with no land in sight, bracing oneself against a boat constantly rolling, pitching and healing from side to side. Others wouldn't go for days at a time without fresh fruits and veggies. Those practical and rational folk would never jeopardize the saftey of their lives with pirates, freak storms, submurged cargo containers, whales, and massive ships. While an imaginative few can't stomach the thought of what unknown creatures could be laying miles below the water's surface.

These same people ask me why I'm sailing and if it's worth the extreme lifestyle adjustments. One does get accustomed to the challenges of weeks on the water, and where once before I was dreading the passages for the same reasons above, I'm now enjoying them. I'm able to catch up on reading. I'm learning much about navigation and marine equipment and electronics, not to mention how to sail. I'm writing in my journal, and I'm thinking up business ideas and inventions to pursue in hopes they'll be profitable enough to provide me with the flexibility to eventually own a sailboat of my own. It's a priority on passage to make time to learn anything about the next destination; this proves to be extremely valuable since people we meet while in port are always impressed with any amount of knowledge a stranger possesses about their home. I also spend hours to reflect on the amazing place we're sailing from, the sights we saw, the friends we made, and especially the lessons we learned.

The greatest and most valuable lesson I've learned so far in each port is how kind strangers can be to other strangers. Everywhere we go we're welcomed into peoples homes and lives. We've attended numerous family dinners, birthdays, bbq's (or in South Africa, braai's), house parties, church functions, holidays, nights out, and a few times get togethers were held in our honor.

Even though I feel overwhelmingly thankful for this experience of a lifetime and to all those who've supported me with this decision--both those at home and those I've met along the way--I'm sometimes not sure if this extreme lifestyle adjustment is the right choice. I'm at an age when I "should" be settling down, focusing on growing my career, and finding a nice girl with whom to begin a family of our own. I feel I'm missing the vital early years of my beautiful niece, Rylee. I want a day of skiing with my friends. I want to watch Duck football. I want Oregon rain on my face.

Above all, I want to devote more time to family and friends. Support them enthusiastically in their life decisions with the same gusto as they have shown me in mine. To provide the people I love most with the same kindess I've received from people I barely know. I want my home to be open to anyone who needs it. I want to meet travelers in their journey and show them the same kindess I've received in mine.

The questions still remain unsanswered; is this worth the extreme lifestyle adjustment? Are these experiences worth missing the experiences at home? Right now, the answer is a hesitant yes because it's only been five months since leaving, everything is still so new and exciting. However, at six months will Christmas pass so easily? At twelve months will I be strong enough to miss Rylee's first birthday? At seventeen months can I miss another holiday season away from family and friends? At twenty-four months can I endure another month or two at sea while we sail our final return passages to Oregon?

I can't provide a solid answer now and I doubt I will until this voyage is complete. I'll have an answer when I return to share with those dear to me my experiences and who I've grown to become. I'll know when I re-meet the loved ones that are growing themselves without me and learn about the experiences I've missed. The only way I'll have an answer is to finish what I've started; to fulfill this commitment to myself.

You know you're in Africa when...

Whaddup G-Raff?

Impala? Chevy Impala?

This elephant has his front left leg up for a reason...

He was preparing to charge us. Drive! QUICK!

Yah, that's a flippin' zebra.

I only cut off rhino horns in my photos.

Clipper ships participating in an around the world race find rest in Durban.

Happy friends after a real South African braai (from left: Sam's mom Sandy, Patricia, John, Hugh, Sam)

Our Thanksgiving dinner on the boat with Sam.

My first driftwood toilet paper holder.

My second toilet paper holder made out of authentic South African driftwood.

La Réunion Island

My longest passage so far has been 18 days and my shortest is 14; it was strange to arrive in a new country after a quick 24 hours. The town seen here, set so beautifully between two canyons, is St. Joseph.



Although the swells large, the wind strong, and the entrance to St. Pierre harbor tricky, thankfully we arrived safely, unlike this poor vessel.



This is Rue Des Bons Enfants (Good Children Road) the main shopping district in St. Pierre.



After spending many hours prepping the boat for this next passage, we were able to be tourists. Here I'm sitting in front of Piton De La Fournaise, one of the most active volcanos in the world.



Of course we aren't just going to sit by the volcano, we have to hike down into it! Unfortunately, the trail to the crater rim was closed due to dangerous conditions resulting from the last major eruption in April. In this picture Hugh is top left, then from clockwise Stephane, Pascale, and Lauren. Stephane lives in Réunion but we met him through a mutual friend in Mauritius while he was there on holiday.



Lauren, Pascale, and I having sundowners on the boat. We were only able to spend a few days with them as they were leaving for Madagascar for a three-week holiday...and you thought we wanted to go there to escape nasty weather ;)



John, Patricia, Hugh and I rented a car and laced our way through over 200 hairpin curves to get to Cilaos, a beautiful town set in the crater of Cirque de Cilaos. I was nominated to drive our tiny Fiat Panda, I forgot just how stressful driving is! It's not natural!



This is the village of Grand Bassin; the only way in or out is by foot or helicopter. The parallel lines that disappear into the woods are support cables for their supply cart that travels up and down twice per day.



This is the backyard view of St. Joseph. Rivière des Ramparts has cut the canyons on which the town is nestled between.



Voile de la Mariée Falls, the equivalent of our Bridal Veil Falls in the Columbia River Gorge.



Stephane told us stories about a mystical place established by a runaway slave and sorcerer, where there are no roads, is populated by 650 people who live off the land, where many of the residents have never seen a car, and tourists have gone missing or have been found murdered. Please Stephane! We want to go there! So we did; Hugh, Stephane and I spent two days hiking into and around Cirque de Mafate.



This is just one of the many fairy tale views we found on our hike.



After two hours and 1500 vertical feet we finally arrived in La Nouvelle, the largest village in Cirque de Mafate. What the land can't provide is delivered by helicopter. The post man hikes in and out everyday and wears through a pair of shoes every year.



This is the gîte where we stayed the night. Gîtes are special places where the owners prepare amazing meals for their guests from their own gardens and animal stocks.



After a great nights sleep we woke the next morning to hike to Les Trois Roches, a waterfall that buries itself so deep in the rocks it's impossible to see the bottom without falling in.

Overall La Réunion Island is full of friendly people and beautiful mountain sights. If you come to visit you need at least two weeks exploring the interior and don't waste your time at the beaches, just volunteer to crew on a boat leaving for Mauritius if you want the best of both beach and mountain. Better yet, just wait for me to get my own boat and we'll sail together to these places.

Developing Ideas in a Developing World

Consider this quote:

"You gather the idea that Mauritius was made first and then heaven, and that heaven was copied after Mauritius."

--Mark Twain, 'Following The Equator' 1897

Thanks, Mark. I appreciate your observation, however, times have changed. A visit in 1897 is completely different from one in 2007.



Behind the fauxcadeville that is Le Caudan Waterfront and the smiles and helpful hands given to anyone with white skin we find a desperate people with an extreme misappropriation of wealth and raging rascism. Politicians are blatantly corrupt. The police and private security forces resort to brutal tactics of pervasive persuation. The majority of the GDP is aquired through the production of sugar, and with the EU setting a ceiling for the price of sugar, this archaic industry on which this developing country was founded could also be the death of it.



In the center of this photo is a home.












This house sits only a few blocks from the one above.












However, show me a country that doesn't have its difficulties. This country is well developed for being independent only since 1968.



Being moored virtually in the center of the capital and largest city, Port Louis, has its advantages. We're able to experience many worldy cultural offerings within just a few square kilometers. Sugar, with its ties to slavery, has made this country unexpetedly diverse. Originally discovered by the Portugese, Mauritius, being strategically located on the way to India after the Cape of Good Hope, has seen its share of immigrants, slaves, and workers over the years. People have come (or have been forced to come) from China, Africa, France, Britan, India, Australia, Germany, Saudi Arabia, and others. Over 22 languages are spoken here and unnumerable religions and their various sects are represented with Tamil temples, Chinese pagodas, Christian churches, Islamic temples, and many more.




















The oldest theater in Mauritius.














John (the skipper) and I outside the produce market. Virtually anything a person could want is available from the thousands of small shops and street vendors.














Inside the market there are hundreds of vendors selling their home-grown fruits and veggies. The best strategy we've found is to return to the friendliest three or four stalls once every couple days; we then are considered a "client" and receive the best bargain.




Delve into China Town and discover goods from all over Asia.












Unless you're a philatelist and covet the Blue Penny stamp worth over $5m, Mauritius is probably most famous for its extinct turkey-size bird, the Dodo; the last of which was believed to be killed in 1680. This is an actual skelton on display at the Natural History Museum. I remember learning of this fearless, flightless bird in elementary school; but more importantly learning of the impact that man can have on a local community. Catching a single fish travelling through 2,400 miles of ocean was disconcerting. I wholheartadley believe and agree with scientists' predictions that our major fisheries are at risk of vanishing over the next 43 years. Our planetary community is at an extreme risk. Did we not learn from the fate of the Dodo?




Hugh and I have made a few new friends here. The people are incredibly open and willing to show us their city. The photo above was taken after a whole day of exploring the city with our three personal tour guides, Julien, Nagimal, Dilshad (Dils!). This Saturday John, Hugh, Julien, and I will be hiking to the top of Thumb Mountain, which you can see in some of these photos.



We'll be anchored at Grand Baie next week for a week or two. This is a huge, lake-calm bay at the northwest tip of the island and is surrounded by beaches and expensive resorts. Grand Baie is a major European and African tourism destination so we're sure to meet more people, including locals who go there on the weekends to relax at the many bars and discoteques and to meet foreigners. Fine by me since the women here are stunningly beautiful and, being so open to meeting visitors, I know we'll have a grand time.

Cocos (Keeling) Islands

I'm scared. Is our first port also our best? Will the remaining trip be a disappointment in comparison to this? Did we fill our sails too full and blow it?

My words aren't competent enough to describe the striking beauty of this place. See for yourself...































We sailors are a little like hermit crabs...our house is always with us.












OK, I do have many words for this picture. Let's just say "I love coconut trees" and "Yes, I was able to climb really high" and leave it at that.














This traditional sailing vessel is called a Jukong. They're specifically built for the conditions within the lagoon at Cocos. Sadly, the last of these beauties was built in the '70's; tradition is giving way to petrol outboard motors and fiberglass.

Land Ho!

After 14 days and 1407 nautical miles of sailing across the northeast Indian Ocean from Western Australia, we've finally made it to Cocos (Keeling) Islands, our first port of call, on July 18th. Life seems easy for the Malays and Aussies on this remote and tiny atoll 12 degrees south of the equator and consisting of 23 islands, getting here, however, was not.


The constant tossing, healing, and diving of the yacht makes life in passage extremely challenging. Every bone that comes close to the surface of my skin is bruised and beaten from the bumps, falls, and stumbles caused by the unpredictable movements from large rouge swells. Walking through a door is gambling with the well-being of your head; what was a direct pass-through a second ago is now two feet to the left and suddenly my head is physically familiar with the book shelf and my shins with the starb'rd seat bench.


Sleep apnea due to 6 hour off and on 'round-the-clock shifts, restless leg syndrome from the lack of movement, constipation, and blurry eye site as a side effect from the promethezine (sea sickness meds) complete the physical challenges of passage.


Of course, the above physical challenges are only the foundation for the mental challenges we face. The desolate loneliness of being in the middle of this ancient ocean is significantly less than "nowhere" with modern GPS technology. However, the never changing scenery of vast expanses of open water, only being able to see an 11 nautical mile radius in any one direction due to the curvature of the earth, and moving at a maximum of 7 knots can keep a mind constantly questioning we're making the progress our marine navigation technology is reporting to us.


I've found all these physical and mental challenges are resolved by a visit from an old friend; music. Pop in the ear buds and one is instantly immersed in the familiar sounds of Confessions on the Dance Floor which brings back familiar memories of all-nighters at the office. Mike Coykendall is a trip to the grocery store and back. I re-live a road trip to an Oregon Duck football away game with The Helio Sequence. Reggie Watts is a cool escape to the slopes of Mt. Hood. I'll be visiting many unique and interesting ports of call during this trip and no matter where I am, or what I'm feeling, I know I'll have music as my sanity ally.


Some pictures for you to enjoy:





Leaving Geraldton for our beacon in the sky.

















Sunrise in the Indian Ocean.

















Arriving in paradise. Finally!

















Dolphins came to great us and show us the safe route into the lagoon. (Video to be posted soon.)

















A beautiful sunset over Destination Island for our first evening in Cocos.

Geraldton, Western Australia

How ya goin'?

We've been extremely busy preparing the boat for passage. Gathering & organizing supplies and food for the next couple months' passage, waxing all wood on the boat, waterproofing the canvas, and much more. However, we've already had a few fun-filled adventures.

From driving on the left side of the road:
















To holding baby kangaroos called Joey's (this is Rocky):




















To almost falling off the boat due to the high winds we've been having:
















All's well here in Geraldton, WA. Nope, not Washington but Western Australia! Whoddathunk I'd ever be in Australia?

Australia currently has a booming economy from successful mining ventures. People here are making lots of money and prices are higher than I expected. And, over the past ten years, the country has paid off all their national debt!

We're supposed to set sail for Cocos (Keeling) Islands today, but we've had inclimate weather (8m swells, 50kt winds) which has kept us in the marina. The weather will hopefully clear for safe departure Wednesday the 3rd. Cocos is about 1400 miles norwest and will take approximately 14 days to reach so don't expect to hear from me for the next couple weeks.

I love and miss each one of you. Send me an email soon.