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Bryce's Posts, Eric's Posts, Experiential, Leslie's Letters, Marquesas

First Anniversary of Our Voyage

February 13, 2016 admin 10 Comments

It was on this day, 365 days ago, that we left Ventura and headed south, down Southern California, Mexico, Galapagos, and the Marquesas where we’ve been since June 25 and plan to stay until May, before heading off to the Tuamotus, Tahiti, and Raiatea. Based on our original plan, had we left in September and had we held to the itinerary I established years prior, today we should be in India, having crossed the Pacific, through Indonesia, Malaysia, and Thailand. Instead, we find ourselves staying nearly one year in Nuku Hiva and likely a second year in Raiatea. In the extended and expensive process of preparing Kandu and overcoming a series of unexpected problems, having experienced weeks of sailing through unpleasant conditions, we changed the focus of our adventure, altering our purpose, which remains fluid. Rather than visit as many countries as possible in five years as originally planned, we’re immersing ourselves profoundly within selected cultures: contributing within our host communities, learning new perspectives and lessons from our varied interactions, growing closer as a family, while hoping to experience as many other cultures as circumstance and desire allow. Based on our financial resources, we don’t know how long we can maintain our life afloat. We’re still shooting for 5 years; one year spent, four to go. Where we wind up, we cannot know. But what for now seems nearly certain, unless something changes significantly for us, we’re not likely to complete a circumnavigation. Instead, we try to make a positive difference in the small corners of the world we’re blessed to touch, while our sons hopefully gain perspectives and capabilities beyond their years. Ultimately, more than the sights and adventures, it’s life lessons learned that have been some of the greatest gifts so far. Here are a few learned this past year:

ERIC: “Sail the wind you have, not the wind you want” was a big one. Not that a person should feel trapped by their circumstance, but rather use wisely all (legal and morally correct) opportunities available to get yourself from where you are to where you think you would like to be, fulfilling one’s life promise/passion/purpose, or adapt your goals accordingly. We usually get what we wish for, so wish responsibly. Acting slowly, with greater deliberation, often results in a speedier resolution. Convenience is seductive but can bring a person further from simplicity. Living a simple life isn’t simple, or easy. Excessive convenience and entertainment numb us from experiences that might otherwise help us grow. Helping a remote community, especially causes that support its youth, is a fast way to become enveloped within its culture. Doing so, you are offered a seat at the community table, meeting the extraordinary and resourceful people who make a difference. Working with these people brings great joy and happiness.

Connecting two schools from two very different cultures was gratifying and appreciated by so many. One of several good works we've assisted. — Connecting two schools from two very different cultures was gratifying and appreciated by so many. One of several good works we’ve played a role in.

LESLIE: My birthday is today. The year was spent traveling. Reflecting back, I appreciate more than ever that it is the journey, beyond its motivating force, that leaves the most lasting imprint on life and learning. As anticipated, this year has been full of surprises, mostly of an agreeable nature. I envision parallel journeys to some day present themselves. A big question that the boys may start to ponder is: “What is my purpose?” I have asked this several times over my life. In high school, it was to excel in academics and music: violin, piano and singing. In college, my purpose was to learn the ways of the French: to speak and write French fluently. It was an overwhelming passion. Once I started working, however, I discerned that speaking French in the business world wasn’t my purpose. My purpose then transformed into the business of becoming an opera singer. Now, after growing our family and working in opera for years, I have embraced the reality of journeying and seeing the world via a sailboat with my family. Still I find myself asking, what is the purpose of this sailing-across-oceans goal: to encourage Bryce and Trent to study other languages, to embrace foreign cultures, to learn how to sail, to spread my love for music and language to other peoples, to learn to manage with less, or is it something else? Probably it’s all of the above and yet, I’ve come to truly internalize that it is life’s journeys that carry us in the end, and only after the luxury of hindsight and reflection, will I truly discern what their real purposes were. Thus for now, this past year’s lesson learned is to let go and appreciate the journey, enjoy the ride, allowing purpose to reveal itself some other day, if ever.

BRYCE: Bryce says he’s learned three things: 1) a person’s attitudes and behaviors are largely dictated by their cultural upbringing, but do not have to be; 2) American kids are blessed to have so many occupational options, tens of thousands, and don’t know how fortunate they are. In the Marquesas, young people have limited opportunities; farming, fishing, hunting, sculpting, tourism, or a governmental functionary. And 3), to forgive young Marquesans for being mean because they’ll probably grow up to be kind and generous like their parents.

French Polynesia's newspaper published a photo with Bryce. He occupies the first seat in the closest outrigger canoe during a practice race. — French Polynesia’s newspaper published a photo with Bryce. He occupies the first seat in the closest outrigger canoe during a practice race. His school’s team is preparing for the Eimeo race, a paddle around the island of Moorea in 9 stages, taking place March 19.

TRENT: Trent says California kids don’t realize how lucky they are that most every one speaks the same language, that they have a car and can go where they want, quickly, and get what they want. The stores here don’t have a lot of things. Here, he’s noticed that Marquesans have to work a lot harder to get what they want because they don’t earn as much. And things costs more and take longer to get shipped over here. Independent of Bryce, Trent too notes that there aren’t a lot of job options here. He says many have to go to Tahiti for jobs, but there’s no guarantee there either. In California, he recalls there are more things to do; activities, entertainment, sports, shopping, etc. Here, there’s only a few sports: soccer, volleyball, basketball, and paddling, and that’s it. No movie theaters, Wi-Fi is hard to get, and there’s not many places to go except the ocean, where there are no-no’s, or the mountains, where there are mosquitos. “I’ve learned a lot about living on a boat. It’s a lot of work,” he says, stating we have to make our own utilities; water, power, sanitation, and get propane for cooking. Fortunately everything is closer here, he remarks. “You can bike to anywhere you need to go.”

I’m pleased with the lessons and perspectives we’ve gained. The first year didn’t go as planned; it went even better. Apparently it’s a blessing to not get everything you wish for . . . oops, another lesson.

Eric Rigney

Experiential, Leslie's Letters, Leslie's Posts, Marquesas

Letters from Leslie, June 2015

February 8, 2016 admin

June 30, 2015 Taiohae, Nuku Hiva, Marquesas Islands, French Polynesia

Vaituha, Bryce returns from a refreshing swim after a long hike — Vaituha Eiao, Bryce returns from a refreshing swim after a long hike

Dear Mom and Dad,

Really quickly, as I’ve finally succeeded in downloading our emails sent to us while we sailed from the Galapagos…it took 3 hours. I see you pdf’d the newspaper articles: “Other Side of Paradise” and the Ventura Star Article. It’s terrific that you were able to scan them for us. We will add them to the website. Thank you.

We are just about ready to depart for the island of Eiao, 70 miles to the northwest, with the Falchetto family and their French yacht friends, Guy, Marian and son Taeva on their monohull Manatai. Eiao is a small, uninhabited island with little water, sparse vegetation, and one decent bay called Vaituha. It was suggested we make the overnight sail there: hike across the island, hunt pigs and sheep, spearfish, and snorkel in the clear water where a plethora of fish and manta rays dwell.

It is 6:00 pm here in Taiohae and the men are all loaded. Just me and Raymonde remain at their house packing up last minute food items and working on the computer. I changed into my pants because there are quite a few mosquitos here that are feasting on my blood.

It was great to chat with you on Skype today – always too short. It is so beautiful, green and lush, we know you will like it a lot. Many activities to pursue – somewhat primitive infrastructure, yet life as a yachtie is definitely workable here.

Sending you many hugs and kisses. Thanks again for selling the Prius for us. That was quite a bit of work and dedication on your part. And happy anniversary again. I’m sorry we weren’t there to celebrate with you. Our 26th is coming up. I almost forgot. Funny! Love you!

Leslie

June 30, 2015

Dear Aunt Kay,

We wish you a Happy Belated Birthday; you’ll have to imagine us singing to you!

All is well in Taiohae, the largest bay and town on Nuku Hiva and incidentally in the Marquesas; it is the administrative center. We arrived in the Marquesas Isles 6 days ago. It is beautiful here and lives up to its Marquesan name: “The Land of Men.” Boys are having a swell time and fortunately Kandu is in good repair. We had a great experience in the Galapagos. Our 24-day voyage across the Pacific from Isla Isabela went without problems, although the seas weren’t idyllically comfortable. We experienced convoluted swells, but mostly large rollers stemming from the south and southeast, which we surfed. There was one extraordinary late afternoon when hundreds of dolphins teamed around, surfing the waves along with us. Their thrilling surf and acrobatic show lasted a couple hours until it got so dark, we couldn’t see them anymore. We also benefitted from predominantly strong winds, which sometimes increased our speed up to 9 knots – our average speed was 6.5 knots. Coming into Nuku Hiva, we were so happy to see land that, as usual, we couldn’t wait to disembark from Kandu and go ashore. Our Marquesan friends were at the wharf to welcome us with flower leis. The Falchetto family of over 30 members threw us a welcome party that very evening as if we were long lost family. No wonder Eric was anxious to sail straight here.

Presently, we’re visiting and anchoring around the island of Nuku Hiva: Taipi Vai, Anaho, Hathieu. There are many lovely bays to visit, adventures to be had and extremely generous people to appreciate. We are fortunate indeed. And on top of all the good news, Bryce and Trent are going to attend school in August. Isn’t that thrilling? We have been working on teaching them little bits of French, but by going to school here, they will hear French daily and really learn it; a dream both Eric and I have hoped to realize for a long time.

All four of us are in good health aside from treating the constant bug bites for infection. We are missing home a bit, but enjoying the fresh air and new daily challenges.

Sending hugs and songs to you from our hearts,

Leslie

After 24 days at sea, we arrive in Taiohae, Nuku Hiva to be greeted by dear friends.

Welcomed like a royal, enveloped by the scent of fresh tiare

A Falchetto family celebratory dinner in our honor. The Plymouth Pilgrims have nothing on us.

Denis prepares fresh roasted breadfruit poi in fresh coconut milk for all to savor.

Table is set for a Falchetto family dinner, welcoming us to Nuku Hiva

Falchetto potluck dinner presents local favorites too complicated to describe.

"Puaka" is the Marquesan word for pig. Delicious is the English word for how it tastes. — “Puaka” is the Marquesan word for pig. Delicious is the English word for how it tastes.

Eaio landscape resembles Africa more than Polynesia

Spring water flows freely at Vaituha, Eiao

Wild mutton air-dries before packing in salt for the sail back to Nuku Hiva.

Educational, Eric's Posts, Experiential, Log Notes, Marquesas

Latitude 38 Articles, Kandu & the Marquesas

February 4, 2016 admin

Sylvie aboard Iolana, sent in a great article about us. Andy, the editor, added to it. We’re on page 52, “A Marquesan Epiphany”

Chuck and Linda, on Jacaranda, also wonderful people, sent in an article about the Marquesas on page 62.

Enjoy!

http://issuu.com/latitude38/docs/l38201602/c/sphqqp0

Educational, Eric's Posts, Experiential, Marquesas, Mindset

Leave No Trace?

February 4, 2016 admin 1 Comment

When hiking or camping, there’s an expression, “Leave nothing behind but footprints, take nothing but pictures and memories.” For global cruising sailors, there’s a similar expression, “Let their culture change you, don’t let your culture change them.” In essence . . . listen more than you talk. The emphasis is to not interject foreign perspectives or values for fear such may fundamentally alter their unique culture, thus eroding what is special and wonderful about another community of people, the experience of which is an essential reason why many of us travel to other, often remote, regions. It falls in line with the Star Trek, Next Generation television series’s stated “prime directive,” which “prohibits Starfleet personnel from interfering with the internal development of alien civilizations [Wikipedia],” to not alter another society’s culture by introducing technologies or philosophies. For example, today we may unintentionally introduce soft drinks to a community that only knows fruit juices, or ice cubes to a culture that only knows room temperature beverages. Or we may describe forms of marketing and commercialism that could alter currently commercial-free awnings and canopies. So the leave-no-trace recommendation would be to listen, understand, but don’t suggest Southern Californian solutions to Polynesian problems, a very reasonable stance, especially for the casual visitor.

There are many examples of the opposite perspective as well, where cruisers bring gifts of school supplies, fresh water, materials and skill sets to help solve problems. Often cruisers participate in community service days, picking up trash, running 5k’s for causes, etc. Sometimes cruisers group together to provide an organized effort to assist a community, especially in areas where they reside for several months.

Take our example: we currently live aboard our Tayana 42, Kandu, in Taiohae Bay on Nuku Hiva Island in the Marquesas archipelago. We have “Certificates of Residence” for Taiohae, which allows our sons to attend the public secondary school here. As with most any society, with kids in school, we are internalized within the community, interacting the many friends and acquaintances time and time again. After I get to know, trust and admire a person, I find I don’t see this person as his or her culture, but as a friend with whom I share the planet. The leave-no-trace position perhaps supposes that people from another culture need protection from ideas that may be unnecessarily complicated, perverse, and/or possibly irreversible corruptive, which may be true. But once I get to know someone, I approach cultural immersion from a different paradigm: treat others as I wish to be treated. If someone from another culture who knew and cared about me were made aware of a particular challenge of mine, and had a solution to offer, I’d want him or her to share it. Let me and the regulations of my community decide its merits. I don’t want to be “protected” from foreign ideas. Under these circumstances, sheltering a community from outside influences, by not sharing with them, could be considered patronizing; that a more technologically and commercially exposed culture needs to guard its solution from simpler cultures. I am attracted to entrepreneurial, community service type people. They are extraordinary, intelligent, kind, multi-talented, creative people who crave options. I am less attracted to the economically or politically ambitious. I do not suggest that a Southern California alternative is preferable. I only suggest that, if applicable, it be placed on the table. It may be a bad idea, but let the receiver decide. Let’s trust their sensibilities, their life experience to decide the fate of a given proposal, indigenous or foreign. I often work with them, helping them calculate the pros and cons of various options to determine what may be the most appropriate response for them. I avoid “selling” them an idea as I have an incomplete understanding of the complexities of their society.

Here’s an example. For decades, an older Marquesan couple Marie Antoinette and her husband, Jean Baptiste, harvested coconuts for copra, a common labor-intensive way to earn a living in French Polynesia. Into their 50’s, Jean Baptiste wanted to find another, less back-breaking way for his wife to earn a living. Being that she’s an excellent cook, they decided to open a restaurant together, something neither had any experience doing. As with any business, there are challenges. Locals frequent her restaurant foreigners do not. Without foreign customers, she’s barely breaking even. Her competitor next door, Henri, has a thriving clientele of foreigners. He speaks English, Spanish, and German as well as the local French and Marquesan. And he offers free Wi-Fi. All the visiting sailors frequent his establishment. When cruise ships pull into port, many of their passengers come to take advantage of his Wi-Fi. When Henri’s “Snack Café” is bursting with people trying to find a place to sit, Marie Antoinette’s has only a table or two of locals, wishing to avoid the hubbub of foreigners. If she is not able to increase business, Marie will have to close the café and return to harvesting coconuts. Marie is a friend of a close friend of ours. She asked Leslie to stand outside her restaurant and help pull cruise ship passengers, mostly English-speaking, into her place. So Leslie did. In the process, we learned how Marie might be able to attract more foreign business, simple things like offering on her printed menu an English translation of her dishes, taking and posting pictures of her plates so foreigners could point to what they wanted, holding and placing flatware and napkins on the table to show that it is a café, and making a deal with her beverage provider to paint her café’s name on a canopy with the beverage logo, so visitors could recognize immediately that her establishment is a restaurant, and not just a bunch of tables outside a communal fishermen’s shack. These simple practices are commonplace in Los Angeles, but not so in the Marquesas. Had she more funds, she could hire an English-speaking server and install a WiFi service as well. Will Marie’s café lose some of its local charm by adopting proven urban practices? Yes, but practices acceptable to locals may prove detrimental for her. Having a successful business, keeping Marie out of the coconut groves, is more important to me than guarding a more “local” experience that bankrupts.

In addition to offering local businesses ideas on attracting more American/Euro business, we find other way to “interfere” with the local culture. We support the community through community acts. Here’s a list to help me remember as well:

Conduct free English language classes to locals, three times a week.
Offer choral instruction, direction, and chorography for the secondary school’s bid to perform in the island’s annual music festival
Assist in weekly dining room instruction and support in the community’s restaurant vocational training center.
Connected the secondary school’s English class with a class of similar age group in Southern California, a cultural exchange opportunity
Assisted in demonstrating and teaching young school kids how to make their own yogurt in an electric rice cooker, a common household appliance here
Assisted in repairing outrigger canoes for use by the secondary school as part of an after-school paddling program.
Participated in Career Day, presenting options in cinema and television
Provide free Friday movie nights with popcorn at the secondary school for the boarding students who don’t leave school for the weekend
Produced 3 radio spots and provided presentation support for the island’s two community breast cancer awareness seminars.
Produced 12 individual video spots and a consolidate spot of, and for, the adult graduating class of state-supported entrepreneurs
Supported the local documentary film festival, offering gratis labor and use of our projection equipment.
Photographed and videotaped communal festivals, offering the images and videos free of charge to the community via the City Hall and city library
Shared the photos and videos of the community’s largest festival to draw locals to participate in a charitable affair. The proceeds aided a family with an 18 yr.-old son being treated in Paris for a rare form of cancer.
Recovered a 36’ Marquesan fishing boat, adrift 120 nautical miles in open-ocean, helping four families earn a living.

When it comes to leaving Nuku Hiva untouched, we’ve failed miserably. The mayor even has our cell phone number in his mobile phone’s contact list. But I’m proud of the service we’ve provided “our” community. Although we offered more, not all offers were accepted. Ideas tend to be met with greater enthusiasm than follow-through. We’ve lived in Taiohae, Nuku Hiva for eight months now, with our kids attending school, and plenty of time to get to know people and help them, and to follow through the obstacles. It’s a different set of circumstances when a sailboat and its crew are here for a few days or weeks, especially if no one speaks the local language. Leaving a community to its own devices to solve its problems, especially when one doesn’t have the time or communication capacities to make a difference, is a reasonable approach. That said, cruisers often come together to support a myriad of local causes, especially those sailors enjoying a prolonged stay for whichever seasonal reason. So if one has time, ability, and fortitude, helping a community is often well received and very rewarding.

Eric Rigney

Experiential, Galapagos, Leslie's Posts

More Galapagos

January 13, 2016 admin 2 Comments

6/5/2015

We left the Galapagos the 2^nd of June 2015 and arrived in Nuku Hiva, Marquesas June 25^th. Since arriving, our lives have been full to the brim with amazing local experiences, but before I blog about these more recent experiences, I want to recount a couple more special things that we enjoyed while we were on Isla Isabella before I forget.

The marine iguanas were the absolute favorite wild creatures that we saw, perhaps because they were literally laying around everywhere we traversed: on paths, on docks, in streets, on rocks, etc. They are wild and prehistoric looking, and yet it turns out are incredibly vulnerable. From what we learned, these cold-blooded creatures eat algae off marine rocks, but swimming in the tepid water lowers their body temperature significantly, so they must spend a great deal of time out of the water sunning themselves. And if they expend too much energy moving about, the effort could actually kill them, especially if they are chased.

We spent a lot of time observing these interesting reptiles and taking pictures of them sporting various yoga positions. If you got too close, they’d warn you to stay back by snorting projectile saltwater spray. Yuck! Once while snorkeling, I witnessed an iguana swimming through a group of unsuspecting snorkelers. Its movement was similar to a snake, using only its tail to slither through the water. Its head stayed above water, its feet did not paddle but limped alongside its scaly body. Yet when it ran, its legs propelled him rapidly over the land; its long, wiggly toes gripped the sharp lava along the waterside and along the wall with surprising agility. We found the iguanas to be excellent climbers and often witnessed them sunning on rooftops.

Landside, we spent a day bicycling 5 miles to the wall of tears (Muro de las lagrimas), to the tortoise-breeding center, and to the flamingo habitat. We rented three extra bikes so that all five of us could ride together, including Uncle Bill. The bicycle ride was partially carved along the beach. A couple miles along the path, the setting turned into wetlands with a coastal group of lagoons and mangroves scattered about.

Three miles in, the path headed uphill changing into a wild semi-arid landscape with the addition of cactus and succulents. Along the way, we came upon a medium-sized wild tortoise trying to cross the road. We accosted it with cameras and it immediately hissed exhausted air by pulling its head back deep into its shell. Wild! Arriving at the wall of tears was a bit anticlimactic. Yet considering the sad story of its construction, it was worthy of seeing for historical perspective. During the late 1940’s when a penal colony was established on Isabela, prisoners built the wall out of chiseled black lava bricks as forced labor. Tragically, many suffered and died while building that non-essential wall; work created out of spite by the sadistic warden. When the truth came out, the entire colony was disbanded.

After our insightful visit, the ride back was all downhill and enjoyable. The tortoise long gone, had disappeared into the brushland. Before entering town we biked a side street leading to the Arnaldo Tupiza Tortoise Breeding Center, reported by fellow yachters to be superior to Darwin’s tortoise exhibit located at the more popular Puerto Ayora on Isla Santa Cruz. At the Tortoise Center, we found ourselves completely alone among the tortoises of all sizes. Bryce and Trent had a blast tempting the larger tortoises to come alive by offering them green vegetation to nibble. These large clumsy creatures clambered over each other like World War II tanks, trying to get at the proffered leaves.

Trent at the Galapagos Tortoise Breeding Center

It was amusing to watch them stretch out their long necks and waddle in their odd fashion on four wide-stretched legs. The exhibit offered sights from the smallest newborns to the largest active breeders. We were later told that a female lays about 160 eggs in one batch, and when protected at the Breeding Center, all 160 typically survive to be reintegrated into the wild near the remote volcanoes. Nice odds! After our tortoise visit, the flamingo habitat located nearby was, in comparison, not heavily inhabited. Those flamingos present were an exquisitely bright salmon color…healthy and prospering. It was an altogether great day of sightseeing!

For the surfers aboard Kandu, Bryce and Trent found the only local surf site just east of La Playita by the lighthouse. Before attempting to surf, they consulted with Puerto Villamil’s local surf instructor and bike rental owner nicknamed “Junior” who spoke English well and confirmed that La Playita was indeed the only nearby surf location and was generally safe. Very beautiful, the site sported an all-sand beach and a surfer’s shack.

The waves, however, were generally large, blown out, and arrived one after another with little time in between to get prepared. Bryce and Trent felt safer and enjoyed themselves more when locals showed up, including Junior, who was the only local who surfed in a wetsuit, possibly for jellyfish protection. With no jellyfish present, the water temperature for Bryce and Trent was perfect: no wetsuits required having hailed from the much colder waters of Ventura. One day in particular was especially exciting. There were several local surfers out bobbing in the waves when Bryce spotted a shark near the surface. He waved at a nearby local surfer and pointed to the shark. The local surfer hailed the other surfers then instantly paddled over to Bryce and propelled him from his own board into a wave toward shore, then paddled over to Trent and likewise thrust him out of harms way. All the surfers immediately made their way back to shore and quickly exited the water. Bryce and Trent went out to surf the morning after, but due to another shark sighting, swiftly returned to shore. When local surfers race out of the water, it’s wise to follow suit.

During the short 15 days that we were visiting Isla Isabela, in between making necessary repairs for Kandu’s upcoming 3000-mile voyage to the Marquesas, Eric worked additionally to arrange a Skype exchange between their local middle school and Ventura’s Cabrillo middle school. Arranging for a dependable wifi connection at the school site was a challenge. But with the help and dedication of the staff and our beloved friend and yacht agent, JC DeSoto, they succeeded and tested the connection before the event. With a torrential rain pouring outside and off the large roof, the English teacher situated her English students for two half-hour sessions to take place in an open-air classroom. The young teenagers enjoyed asking questions of one another about life and free-time. Being quite modern, we discovered: that the Galapagos students enjoy access to mp3 players, smart phones, and video games just like their Ventura counterparts, and that the two groups share a love of surfing, water sports, and soccer or “football” as it’s called in the rest of the world. The Skype session ended with the middle schoolers playing ‘rock, paper, scissors’ together – evidently a universal game.

I got a chance to sing at the local Catholic Church one Sunday morning. Their lovely folkloric Ecuadorian-style music and choir were simply accompanied by a drum and other percussion instruments; the singers seemingly found their pitch out of thin air. I, on the other hand, carried my pitch pipe to be sure that I sang on the correct pitch when I sang Schubert’s ‘Ave Maria’ during communion. The acoustics were terrific. My voice carried beautifully through the grand hall and after the service, the priest and parishioners enthusiastically thanked me for being a part of their worship. I wished that I could have participated with the choir too, but the choir members performed everything from memory, not even reading their lyrics from a score. Since I don’t speak Spanish well, I couldn’t easily join in, except on the universal ‘Alleluia.’ The church itself was relatively new and modern looking with great tall beams supporting a wide, lofty roof. One side of the church was beautified by large stained glass windows, each displaying an image of one of the special animals that glorify the Galapagos: penguin, marine iguana, blue-footed boobie, giant tortoise, and seal. The opposite side of the church displayed the images of Christ during his persecution, exquisitely carved in wood. The alter was equally impressive. An enormous and beautifully rendered carving of the same animals as represented within the stained glass, now depicted together, supported a large, exquisitely finished, wooden tabletop. I felt privileged to be able to sing in such a lovely and holy setting within this world-renowned archipelago.

It was difficult for Kandu and Uncle Bill to arrive in the Galapagos. The passage from Mexico to Galapagos was unpleasant and challenging, battling shifting winds, mixed seas, and constant thundershowers, as well as boat issues. Eric indicated beforehand that the crossing would be a challenge, but we both felt we’d already given up too many bucket-list destinations to give up this one too. That said, the challenge in getting here made it easy to cross off Easter and Pitcairn Islands in favor of the simpler Marquesas-direct crossing. I’d still like to see the moai on Easter Island someday. Who knows . . . maybe we’ll fly to Easter Island from Tahiti? The sour memory of the Mexico to Galapagos crossing will certainly fade. What will remain will be the wonderfully amazing experiences on Isla Isabela and in Puerto Villamil, etched in our collective memories, having provided our family a direct relationship with this unique and diverse part of the world. Documentaries and movies do the earth and animal sciences justice, but these modern story-telling tools overlook what it’s like to live among these wonders. Experiencing such things as a normal part of life is an extraordinary circumstance we hope the boys will forever appreciate.

Leslie Dennis-Rigney

Baja California & Mexico, Eric's Posts, Mindset

The “C” Word

December 4, 2015 admin 10 Comments

Self-reliance helped catch several MahiMahi between Galapagos and Marquesas.

Sailing between Galapagos and the Marquesas, an uncomfortable 24-day crossing for us, I reflect on features missed of my life recently left behind. Departing California for Mexico and the South Pacific on a 42-foot sailboat, life significantly changes as one would expect, but exactly what changes and how these changes affect a person one cannot know until engulfed in the new circumstance. In the cost-benefit analysis, we would only leave if, by leaving, we calculate a better overall outcome for ourselves, ultimately gaining more than we forfeit. But I find one particular adjustment difficult to make: “Convenience,” specifically the lack thereof.

Convenience is seductive. I miss her. She gets me what I want, when I want. All I have to do is figure out what I want, something I’m exceedingly good at, and she comes through for me. Dressed in Amazon Prime, 24hr grocery stores, next day parts from West Marine, Jack’n the Box drive thru, the big box stores, Costco, Walmart, Target, or the mall; she gives me what I want, when I want . . . and I am capable of wanting so much.

Car is great too; a cozy cocoon, it entertains, it comforts, and it takes me where I want. It asks little of me. Entertainment, I miss too: movies, television, theater, art galleries, music, opera, dining out, etc. It, too, asks little. I merely have to decide what it is I wish to see . . . Car takes me there.

Convenience has a bathroom near your bedroom, a large shower, washing machine, dryer and dishwasher. She’s water, power, gas, phone, sanitation, and Internet. She’s so there, so ready to serve. I miss Convenience.

I left Convenience for a more challenging relationship with Self-reliance. This new one taps me for everything I’ve got: brain, heart, body, and soul. I don’t demand of her . . . she demands of me. Convenience never asked for anything. Each day with Self-reliance, I’m spent. I bed and rise early. I’m uncomfortable, and yet somehow I no longer seem to need to work out or visit medical specialists. I no longer ache. I’m thinner. I’m fit. With Self-reliance, I don’t get to buy things. I must watch what I spend, and try not to. She requires that I wait to get the things I want, and/or do without. Entertainment under Self-reliance is simple too; cards and board games with wife and sons, watching together a video on a 9” screen, meeting new and fascinating people from around the world of all walks of life, walking or swimming by exotic animals and plants, hiking active volcanoes, picking unusual produce from a local farmer’s field, but mostly, just solving problems. I chose this new relationship because she’s supposed to offer my family and me more substantive rewards, but who knows? It’s too soon to tell. Still, the other relationship was pretty good. Learning to live with less is not as much fun as learning to live with more. I miss Convenience. Fortunately for me, she harbors another easy-going quality: Convenience never gets jealous. No matter how long I’m away from her, she’s always willing to take me back.

Eric's Posts, Experiential, Marquesas, Mindset

School Daze

December 2, 2015 admin

Trent's class photo with the ubiquitious "bird" captured in this Kodak moment, the student at the front-left corner. — Trent’s class’s Kodak moment captures the student at the front left corner sporting the playground’s ubiquitous “bird” on his righthand.

Leslie and I dreamed of Bryce and Trent learning to some day speak fluent French. Although it was not our original intention when setting off to sail around the world, the new emphasis toward cultural immersion in lieu of sailing around the world affords us this opportunity. It is one of the main reasons for our extended stay in French Polynesia, allowing us to enroll Bryce and Trent in a French public school; first in Nuku Hiva, Marquesas, then maybe in Raiatea, Society.

At first, we were all excited to start school, all of us except Trent. He was, and remains, less convinced of the benefits surrounding the acquisition of a new language. For Leslie and I, learning to speak French has become a requirement of them. In August of this year, Bryce and Trent made Nuku Hiva history, perhaps even Marquesas history, becoming the first Americans ever to attend school here. At first, Bryce welcomed the attention his unique circumstances offered. Everyone watched his every move. Girls flocked to him, requesting instant girlfriend status (being a small island of limited population, many kids are related, making it difficult to date, so new blood represents new possibilities). He was instantly popular. Trent on the other hand did not welcome the global attention. No matter where he went, on campus or off, he felt the inquisitive gaze of locals. When at the store, what products would he buy, what items interested him? At school, kids stared to see what clothes he wore, what technology he brought, what skills and attitudes he might introduce. He did not welcome the unsolicited attention that being a blond-haired, blue-eyed, white-skinned American brought him in a school 98% brown-haired, brown-eyed, brown-skinned Polynesian. Conspicuous simply for his differences was an uncomfortable circumstance for Trent. I tell the boys to remember how it feels to be different in appearance from the general population and to be treated like a freak, so that when they find themselves in a circumstance where they see someone different being introduced into their cultural, that they reach out to them to help them feel at ease, to welcome them in a more constructive and caring manner than their current classmates are.

Another challenge for the boys is entering a scholastic social structure unable to communicate. Not understanding what kids are saying to you or each other, not understanding what the teachers are saying when they are teaching, describing the assignments, the homework, and handing out the tests is akin to living a nightmare for an honor roll student like Bryce, or a student like Trent who likes to please others, especially his teachers. “They think because we don’t speak French that we’re idiots. They can’t believe we’re so dumb, coming from America. It’s not fair. We know more about most of these subjects then they do. Just because we don’t speak their language, doesn’t mean we’re dumb. Even little kids think they’re smarter than us just because we can’t answer even simple questions,” they protest. Again, I ask that they always remember this injustice so that when they meet someone learning English, or even a new skill, that they accord them the same allowances that they feel the Marquesan students, and even some of the French teachers, should extend them. For the first 6 weeks, most all the teachers were sympathetic to their circumstance. After the first school break, a one-week vacation, patience ran out. Nearly all of their teachers began treating them as if the grace period for learning to speak French were over. Apparently for many, six weeks is all it should take to be able to speak French.

The boys were learning. And as in when learning any language, they were beginning to understand what was being said, more than they could speak, especially when others made the effort to speak very slowly and deliberately. When a debutant linguist asks a native speaker to speak slowly, he or she slows down from 70 mph to 55 mph, but still freeway speed. What a very beginning student of a language wants is for a person to speak at 5-10 mph, crowded parking lot speed. You want each word clearly spoken and separated from each other with a fair pause in between. Only someone in the process of learning a new language seems to appreciate this requirement. Others soon tire of the effort and slowly ramp back up to freeway speeds. As parents introducing non-speaking students to their class, it’s not fair to ask teachers to teach their class in a manner necessary for Bryce and Trent to understand, either by translating in English or by slowing speech to a snail’s pace. So, to assist their learning, we hired a professional French-as-a-second-language teacher, experienced in teaching French to Americans. Bryce and Trent meet with him outside of school, 3 times a week. In a constructive environment, he instructs them in basic French, addresses their language questions related to any recent experiences, and helps them with their homework.

Language is not the only challenge confronting Bryce and Trent’s introduction to school in the Marquesas. Cultural differences make for difficult and unpleasant social lessons. Petty theft, lying, vulgar acts and language, and threats of violence are commonplace behaviors in Taiohae’s secondary school. The boys’ backpacks are pilfered through when they’re not looking, during recess, lunch, or physical ed. Bryce and Trent’s stationary supplies are taken from their desk when the walk away to approach the teacher with a question. Locker locks are picked open and items removed. Those whom Bryce thought were his frie

Bryce's Posts, Experiential, Marquesas, Mindset

School au Collège de Taiohae

November 27, 2015 admin 9 Comments

October 16, 2015

Trent starts French public secondary school in Taiohae, Marquesas

Moving from one school to the next is hard. Every school is different. You have new kids to deal with; new teachers and you have to start the friend making business all over again. All that is a pain in the butt, yet eventually it all turns out fine. Starting up at the school in Taiohae was a little different for my brother and me. It’s all French and we don’t speak French.

School entrance with guardian monitoring comings and goings

Our parents brought us to this island out in the middle of the Pacific Ocean and threw us in school. We had no clue about the Marquesan culture, what the kids would be like, and the hardest part was we had no idea how to communicate. In a nutshell our parents enrolled us in a school, on a remote island, without us knowing the culture, the language or other kids, then told us how long we were going to attend – one year! That’s what I call a little bit of a challenge.

Eastside of campus reveals open-air cafeteria

On our first day of school we woke up at 6 in the morning since school starts at 7 a.m. We quickly got dressed and ate breakfast, drove our 8’ inflatable dinghy to shore then started our 20-minute walk to school. We walked up to meet the principal and to check out the school: where the restrooms were, lunch would be, basketball courts were, etc. The bell rang so it was time to find my first class. The vice principal told this random girl to lead me to my class. We arrived in a classroom. The teacher looked at my schedule book and pointed to the class I had to go to. It was math class with Monsieur Evain. He spoke to me in English, telling me to sit next to a boy across the room whose English was okay. His name, I learned, was Phillip. He was really nice.

Bryce's class, Bryce center. Phillip is on the end, to Bryce's right — Bryce’s class, Bryce center. Phillip is on the end, to Bryce’s right, Mr. Evian, to his left.

We were the first Americans to ever attend this school. Everything you did or said they thought was what all American kids did or said. In a way, we represented all American kids. It was like we were celebrities and everything we did they thought was cool. The reaction I would normally get arriving at a new school in America would have been much different: no one would have noticed me or cared to know my name or try to make me feel comfortable. But in the Marquesas, it seemed to be the opposite. It was, “Oh, you need help? Let me help you.” Practically on our first day of school everyone knew our names. After math was Physics and then History/Geography and following that was Physical Ed. We played basketball. The kids here are terrible at basketball. I am probably the best player in 7-9th grade! At home, I was just passable.

Bryce's English class. His teacher by chance visited Ventura this past summer, during the 4th of July. — Bryce’s English teacher, standing in the back of the class, by chance visited Ventura this past summer, during the 4th of July.

After P.E. we had lunch. Phillip led me over to the lunch line. For lunch there is a different protocol than the schools attended in Southern California. You grab a metal tray; slide it on the rails in front of the kitchen while servers place fresh food on your tray. That first day we had rice, lentils, grapefruit and a piece of French baguette. When I saw the spread I thought, “Geeze, this is so good, and it didn’t come out of a bag!” When I was done there was not a crumb left on my plate. It was so delicious – like rich kids’ food. After lunch, surprisingly, I was finished with school. That’s when I started thinking, “Man, this is the best school ever. Fantastic lunch, school finishes at twelve most days, and I’m treated like a celebrity.” This school was really turning out to be a great experience for the both of us.

The cafeteria serving station before lunch

By the time this week was finished, my brother, Trent, and I were top news for most of the island. Everyone was giving us greetings when we biked down the street. Random people saying, “Bonjour,” “Salut,” “Hi!” In sum it was looking really good for us. People we had never seen before knew us.

The next week was even better. During our morning breaks, we had pretty girls asking if they could be our girlfriends. But after awhile it got a little annoying having people pulling you over into their group and examining you, asking the same silly questions. At the same time, I liked the attention. For the first month, this was the normal day. Then the attention started cooling off. People were getting used to us, which was a bad thing.

Students in the courtyard before the first bell

Now during school I have to watch my back because everyone wants to fight us, putting up their arm saying, “I’m gonna fight you!” I never know if someone is going to pounce on me, and every time I turn around there’s at least one person giving me the finger or shouting, “F-you, Bryce!” On top of that, everything got harder. Now I’m expected to understand everything being said in class and I have to do homework in French. Fortunately, after school I go to a tutor for help with my French.

Getting flipped off is a regularly occurrence. — Getting flipped off (face blurred) is a regularly occurrence.

A few times now I have had trouble with a couple kids. One day before my English class, this kid named London all of a sudden came at me and said, “Shut up, be quiet!” then put his chest against mine and peered down at me like he was going to hit me. Then I said, “Go, go, come on. Allez, allez, viens!” In my head I was thinking if this guy hits me, he would have more pain than me once it’s all over. Since the village of Taiohae has a small population of 2,000, everyone would know he’s the one who struck the American who doesn’t even speak French, for no good reason. Plus his parents and the school would be very mad. As this was going on, a teacher came out and the kid cooled down. It was over and he apologized after class. Anyway, it’s happened a few times after that before it totally ended. It is now resolved without any physical confrontation.

After that first month, the college turned into a bit of a wild school and hard to handle. You can’t even leave your backpack alone without fear of some kid rummaging through your stuff and picking out what he wants. The way I look at, it’s just a few more months before it will all be over. So, in the meantime, just toughen up and deal with the problems straight up. Attending this school has been a crazy new experience. At the moment it seems worth my while. Although I do have to say, I can’t wait until it’s all over and things go back to normal: homeschooling with mom and dad.

Kandu in Anaho Bay, Nuku Hiva, Marquesas

by Bryce Rigney

Experiential, Marquesas, Trent's Post

Swinging on the Rein

November 23, 2015 admin 1 Comment

August 11, 2015

Smiling after three days of rope swinging.

At Tahuata Island in Vaitahu Bay we used our boat swing. It was really fun, but it was difficult at first because Bryce, Mom and I had to set up the swing without Dad’s help. We first had to pull out the spinnaker pole that is attached to the mast, which is a bit challenging. Then we had to attach the thick swing rope to the end of it. Once that was secure, we had to raise the spinnaker pole as high as it could go and then tie it off. The last thing we had to do was set-up two “preventers” [guys] to make sure the pole would not sway from side to side. We needed the pole to stay in place hanging directly perpendicular to the boat, placing us, the swingers, out as far as possible from the boat.

Swing set up off Kandu in Vaitahu, Tahuata.

Once everything was ready we stepped up onto the kayak propped up on it’s side on the deck and jumped off. We got to swing as much as we wanted. Bryce and I first sat on the swing’s bottom knot. Then we stood on the knot and dove into the water jumping off the knot pushing off with our feet. That’s all I could do, but Bryce could also perform a back flip off the rope. The rope swing was set-up for three days. The day after the first day, I was terribly sore from swinging so much, but it didn’t matter. I was determined to swing as much as possible while the swing was set-up.

Kandu's boat swing at sunset in Vaitahu, Tahuata, Marquesas. — Kandu’s boat swing at sunset in Vaitahu, Tahuata, Marquesas.

The last day, a Marquesan dad we’d never met before motored over to our boat on a small fishing boat with his son and daughter. He explained that his children wanted to play with us on the swing while he went to check his fishing stuff. My dad said it was okay and that we would bring the kids back to shore at noon, about an hour and a half, when we had to leave for shore. The kids were very nice. The little boy was 7 and the girl was 9. They were curious about the boat so we gave them a tour. I thought they were brave to hang out with us, having never met us before. We played together on the swing until it was time to leave back to shore. The dad gave us some grapefruit as a thank you.

by Trent Rigney

Editor’s Note: Vaitahu (translation “water fire-igniter”) is historically significant for the Marquesas. The first documented European to visit the Marquesas, a Spanish explorer, landed here in 1595, naming the archipelago after his benefactor’s wife. The second European to visit, British Capt. Cook, made landfall here in 1774. The French admiral, Dupetit-Thouars, in 1842, after fighting a successful battle for the chief of Vaitahu, signed a treaty with the chief annexing all of the Marquesas to France. Vaitahu, as I understand correctly, is reportedly the only Marquesan valley owned by France, such that the inhabitants lease the land upon which the build their homes. In the other valleys, private parties own the land.

Bryce's Posts, Experiential, Marquesas

Don’t Complain, “Just Do It!”

November 21, 2015 admin 10 Comments

October 16, 2015

After 24 days at sea, Bryce arrives in the Marquesas.

Arriving in the Marquesas in late June, everything was different compared to other places we’d visited so far. I had no idea what the local people were saying. I still had the Spanish language in my head from being in Mexico and the Galapagos. I came here with no clue how to speak their languages, French and Marquesan (similar to Hawaiian), and I found out during our first couple weeks that Trent and I would be attending the local school for a year. Since I am an American with blue eyes, blond hair, whitish skin, and to top it off I rode a fold-up bike trailing a cart that made a great deal of noise, my first month before school started, was awkward. It was basically like having a sign over my head saying: “I’m here, I’m here, look at me, I’m here!” Everyone stared at me when I walked down the street.

On arrival we had a few Marquesan friends, so it wasn’t exactly that bad. Some of the activities that our friends take part in are very cool. One weekend before school we took a sail trip with another boat called Manatai (Guy, Marian, and Taeva (9 yrs.)) and the Falchetto family: Sebastien, Raymonde, Moana (22), Pahu (17), and cousin Teiki Poi (14). We all sailed to an island called Eiao, which is seldom visited by anybody, including Marquesans. Only a few families visit regularly and our friends were one of them. They even had a shed up at the top. We went there specifically to hunt for pigs and goats. I couldn’t wait to go hunting for the first time, but in order to get to where the animals were, we had to walk up a steep mountain slope carrying tools, sleeping supplies, food, water, and hunting gear.

Entering Eiao's west bay. Note steep terrain behind beach. Manatai is already anchored. — Entering Eiao’s west bay. Note steep terrain behind beach. Manatai is already anchored.

It was an over-night sail from Nuku Hiva to there. We left just after sunset and arrive around 10 a.m. There’s really only one bay where boats can anchor. It’s on the west side of the island. Manatai arrived before us so they were settled in first. The trip was a bit rocky but nothing worse than what we’d seen before, but different than what our Marquesan friends were use to. Being stuck on the boat with three sick Marquesans made you want to get on land even more. So with everybody anxious to get off, the unloading went fast. Finished with the arrival part Trent, Taeva and I grabbed some sticks and played sword fights on the remote brown sand beach until nightfall. We slept on our boat while our Marquesan friends slept near the beach in a fragile shack-like structure, mostly a floor with a plastic tarp roof. The next day everyone woke up very early, before sunrise, to have breakfast on the beach and start the hike at sunrise.

Sebastien and Raymonde prepare pre-dawn breakfast before ascent.

The path was marked with stacked up rocks like pedestals and soon enough the path ended at a lonely tree on a plateau where we all took a decently long break.

On the plateau of Eiao, the "hunting" party takes a brief break at lone tree. — On the plateau of Eiao, the “hunting” party takes a brief break at lone tree.

You could just see our boat down the edge of the cliff, we were so high up. Everyone arrived two or three pounds lighter with a soaking, sweaty T-shirt. At this point, we were only 1/3 the way to our destination: a hunting shack.

Lone tree in overlooking desolate terrain.

After break was over, we started on a new path heading south across the island with gravel-like terrain. On our walk, apart from some different colored rocks and weird scraggly looking trees, we didn’t see much. Even though the sightseeing wasn’t the best, the walk itself was interesting and a little tricky due to the fact that there were chasms everywhere.

Take one wrong step and you could slip and fall into a deep chasm, stuck until someone in the group could lift you out. An hour later we made it two-thirds of the way. We stopped at a checkpoint and admired the extraordinary view and appreciated the breeze.

Bryce enjoys the breeze coming off the cliff tops

There happened to be a small group of goats that we spotted at the bottom of the cliff-side. Fifteen minutes passed quickly; it was time to move on.

As we walked a few pigs appeared along the path. I joked around and scared them off by running after them brandishing my little four-inch blade, (as if that could stop anything.) Almost at the destination, we came across a large patch of dead, rotting trees, but that didn’t discourage us. We tramped through the trees until finally we saw it: a little shack 10-foot by 10-foot, and 7 feet tall. When we opened the door we found two picnic tables and a mini stovetop. All the rest was bugs and moldy, rotten wood. The last time someone had been there was over a year, maybe two.

Hunter' shack above Eiao — Hunter’ shack above Eiao (L-R Bryce, Trent, mom, Taeva, Sebastien, Moana, and Pahu)

Once everyone arrived, the guys pulled out the tables from inside the shack and placed them into the shade so we could have lunch. We had brought bread, pate, peanut butter, crackers, banana donuts, fruit, and chocolate powder for hot chocolate. But most importantly: water. We all ate our fill and drank hot chocolate since the shed had mini propane stove-stop. After lunch the people who didn’t plan to stay, that is my mom and the Manatai family, started the walk back. Sebastien sent his son and nephew to partially lead them back to the lonely tree.

Pahu and Teiki Poi accompany three of our party to the 'Lone Tree,' where they returned to guard the boats. — Pahu and Teiki Poi accompany three of our party to the ‘Lone Tree,’ where they returned to guard the boats.

Those who stayed included the Falchetto family, my father, brother and me. Towards nightfall, the first thing we did was start a fire to keep warm. We then spread a large white plastic tarp down for the ones sleeping on the ground and prepared dinner. The two picnic tables were butted up, side-by-side. Dinner included, hot chocolate with powdered milk, bread, fruit, and rice with leftover wild mutton meat from the evening before. Once dinner was finished, Sebastien told us to throw all the bones as far away as possible so that the centipedes wouldn’t be tempted to crawl on us at night. Then right before we went to bed, he told us all these wild stories about how the pigs sometimes came at night and bit people on the head. Because of the stories, everyone reset their alertness from a rate of 6 to 10.2. Despite not having a roof over our heads during our night in the wild, we happily had spoonfuls of Nutella and a ground tarp. Everyone dressed warmly. The Falchetto family slept on the ground huddled together. My dad and brother slept on tables high off the ground. The final thing said was, “there is a flashlight near the hut if anyone needs to use the bathroom.”

Hunting Party's camp at sunrise. — Hunting Party’s camp at sunrise.

Seven hours later the sun came up. The first noise I heard was a most irritating electric-like buzzing above my head. It was a combination of thousands of flies, mosquitos and no-no’s hovering like helicopters overhead. For breakfast, it was the same meal: bread with a choice of peanut butter, Nutella, jam or pate, and hot chocolate or powdered cappuccino. Yum! Before we left, we prepared everything for the hunt. We collected dry wood to feed the fire and readied our GoPros. Sebastien got his 22 rifle and hunting knives ready. Raymonde stayed at the campsite and Moana was sent off to carry one large load back down the mountain and to return for more. Heading off with all our materials, knives, gun and GoPros, the first type of animal we were looking for was wild pig. In my opinion, out in the wild, pigs are the most dangerous because even after being shot, they can still run at you, tusks and all. While walking around, all of a sudden, Sebastien told us all to crouch, be quiet and make as little movement as possible. Looking carefully in the shrubs was a pig. He pulled me over, handed me the gun, and said, “La tete,” and pointed to his head. So I turned my head-mounted camera on and grabbed the gun. I aimed at the head through the small site and pulled the trigger. The bullet grazed the leg, which didn’t stop it, only scared it off.

We moved on to look for more hunting opportunities. We then found a group of sheep and started moving very slowly into position. Sebastien pulled out his gun, aimed and fired twice shooting the shoulders of two male sheep, which stunned them in place. Then he handed us the gun and we tried to put them down. We missed so, before they ran off, Sebastien took back the gun and proceeded to kill both. He has had a lot of practice!

Immediately, Sebastien ran over to one and sliced its throat and had my brother hold steady its moving back legs, which were stretched skyward. Sebastien cut the testicles and the head off the animal and then did the same to the other. Even after all that, the animals were still twitching. The next step was to slit the abdomen open, and with that came a most terrible smell. After cleaning the insides out, I took a GoPro shot to capture what the inside of an animal looks like. The big men carried the bodies over to hang off a tree to finish the cleaning protocols, which included skinning and splitting the body in half. Next, they packed the meat in bags and carried the heavy load back to the hunter’s shed, where we had just spent the night.

Soon afterward, it was time to pack up the camp site and start the journey back to the boats. Once everything was good and ready, we began hiking back, carrying twice as much down as we came up with because we were packing back the meat and they cleaned out the hunting shack of various tools, supplies, and a stovetop. Along with my backpack, I was asked to carry the stovetop, adding to my weight 15 lbs. We walked the same path down, so it wasn’t as interesting the way back. With an aching body and swollen feet, the six-hour walk that felt like forever finally came to an end. On the beach, despite my sore feet, I couldn’t help myself. I just had to run. With the sand under my feet and the fantastic smell of lunch, I felt as if I had just finished the Tour de France and I was going to win a bunch of money.

Boats anchored off the shore, Bryce and friends enjoy a quick dip.

Fresh spring water constantly flows on the beach of Eiao

Hiking, hunting and lunch being over, it was time to sail back to Taiohae. Once finished loading everything and everyone back onto the two sailboats, we raised anchor under a setting sun and headed southeast toward Nuku Hiva.

Manatai sailing along the south coast of Nuku Hiva, on our way to Taiohae.

During this trip there was a lot I learned, but most importantly it really opened my eyes in offering help, and not always complaining about it, to: “Just Do It!” It was an experience that changed me in a very big way. Our trip with the amazing Falchetto family was extremely memorable and I cannot wait to take part in more such experiences along our adventure!