At 6:30 a.m. my mom, Trent and I left Kandu and motored the dinghy to shore so that Trent and I could catch the bus to school. We entered the school gates at 7:00 a.m. I was ready and on time. The team paddlers showed up one by one until it was time to load into the airport bus and head to the airport, an hour and a half away. The team coaches rounded up all the paddles and life jackets and loaded them into the bus separately as the paddlers seated themselves. On the way to the airport lumberjacks, cutting down trees, stopped the bus. The roadway was cleared in ten minutes and we moved on. After almost two hours of being in the bus we arrived; I was ready. All the kids checked in, got their tickets, and bought food for the plane ride. We would fly from Nuku-Hiva to lay over in Hiva-Oa before setting off to Tahiti. An hour passed before we were allowed into the plane to pick our seats. I hadn’t been on a plane for a long time. I was so excited and overjoyed. During take off, it was super cool looking out the window seeing the ocean and Nuku-Hiva from above.
Not long after, we deplaned in Hiva-Oa and waited to re-board. All the kids sat down at the airport snack lounge and talked until an announcement said that the plane was ready and we would re-board soon. The passengers again seated themselves and as soon as everyone was settled in the plane, it took off. I sat next to a very nice French lady and practiced my French with her. Eventually I tired, put on my headset and took a nice long nap. I woke up for the landing; flying over the coral reef lagoon was spectacular. I was super pumped to visit a ‘big’ city like Papeete.
When the plane came to a stop, everyone grabbed their carry-on belongings and walked to the airport baggage claim. As the luggage came down the conveyor, we each grabbed our bags and walked outside to the lobby. My dad greeted us and showed us the way to the bus that would drive us to our dorm for the next four nights.
Our team was separated into two rooms of boys and girls. Coach Cathy gave the assistant coach the key to the boys’ room so we could unpack and get ready for dinner. We left on foot at 6:00 p.m. to the high school where we would eat dinner. My Marquesan teammates were a bit intimidated by the local Tahitian students. To make it easier for the Marquesan kids, the school provided a private dinning room that first night. Coach Cathy told everyone we would be waking up at 5:30 in the morning to eat breakfast. We walked the 30 minutes back to the shared dorm rooms, traded off taking showers in the single shower, and went to bed. It was a great first day!
Visiting Tahiti . . .
Wednesday morning we got dressed and headed for breakfast at the same school where we had had dinner the night before. Once finished we boarded a waiting school bus that drove us to a high school for a planned tour. It was a cooking school, so lunch was fantastic. The whole tour took about four hours, and I hardly understood any of it. After the tour we took another bus over to the commercial center of the city where we were given a 1-1/2 hour chance to shop. We were split into groups of girls and guys. My dad soon met up with us and took my group to several different stores. That day, I bought a blue leather Quiksilver wallet and an ice cream. The others bought expensive carbon fiber paddles ($240USD), T-shirts, and shorts. Our time was up and the bus drove us back to the dormitory. Everyone unloaded and we soon took off to eat dinner.
The next morning was much the same. We woke up at 5:30 a.m., headed for breakfast, and waited for the bus that would take us to another school. Instead of going to the school with the others, I went with my dad shopping. I bought swim trunks, sandals, deodorant, and gum. Then we took off to a Tahitian television station where my dad was going to be interviewed on live TV Premier 1. On the TV show, he talked about our stay in the Marquesas, his old job at Sony Pictures and mom’s old job at LA Opera.
It was darned cool to watch him being interviewed on TV. He did a great job. We left the studio and went shopping again. Before hitting the stores, we grabbed a bite to eat at McDonald’s for the heck of it, and then we went back to shopping. In the city, I bought two tank tops and another for my brother, one pair of pants for me and another for my brother. I also got a fanny pack and my dad bought a dive watch for Trent. We had a great time looking around Papeete’s shops and open market. It felt as if I were back in America (except everything was a lot more expensive and all in French). It was nice to experience the luxury of having a wide selection of things to buy.
Being Thursday meant that tomorrow we would be leaving for Moorea, waking up at 4:00 in the morning to do so. We ate dinner at the high school again, came back to the dormitories, and went to bed.
The most respected sport in all of French Polynesia . . . ? The answer is va’a, Tahitian for outrigger canoeing. This is a sport for real athletes. Va’a involves endurance, strength, killer technique, innate talent, and most importantly, teamwork. It is also one of the few ways to earn Marquesan respect. Other ways include becoming a prolific fisherman, enrolling in their local school, or having your body tattooed from head to toe. My name is BRYCE RIGNEY and I can check two of these off my list. I have been attending a public Marquesan secondary school and I’m a part of the school’s paddling team, seated as my team’s faharo. In two months Marquesas will send 14 of their best college (secondary school) students to represent them in Moorea in the prestigious Eimeo Race where we’ll battle it out against 42 other French Polynesian schools and one team from Hawaii.
In the beginning . . .
It all started in mid-October 2015 with the beginning of the school’s new paddling program for kids 14 and older. The first after-school paddling sessions were difficult and crazy. Forty kids showed up on the first day, each wanting to learn how to paddle. But there were only 15 paddles. Fortunately, the instructors brought their own paddles to share. For boats, we paddled double-hulled outrigger canoes, one V-12 and a V-6. The word “V-12” is short for “va’a 12,” which is a pirogue (French for outrigger canoe) built for 12 paddlers. FYI – A mix of French, Tahitian, and Marquesan are spoken in the Marquesas. Anyway, so instead of one long canoe for 12 people, with two long wooden arms called aito, they attach two V-6’s together to make one double-hulled canoe. A double-hulled canoe is much more stable than a single-hulled canoe with a small outrigger, an important feature when just starting to learn how to paddle an outrigger canoe. So, a V-3 holds three people, and a V-1 is for a single paddler. To create a double-hulled V6, they tied two V-3’s together. Together, the two double-hulled canoes carried 18 students at a time. It was obvious to the instructors that none of us were in shape for paddling and that va’a was a new sport for all of us. Being it was the first time for most, including me; we tired easily those first weeks.
After 3 weeks, the number of kids showing up for practice dwindled to 20. That’s when the real training began. We started with 3km tours without rest, which progressed to 4km tours, then doubled to two 4km tours with a stop between tours, and then a 6km tour without a break. After two months of paddling, 18 kids remained. That’s when the college sports instructor, Cathy, informed all paddlers that there would be a 42km, 9-stage race around the island of Moorea, to be held in two months, and that from the 18 remaining kids, only 14 would be chosen to represent the entire Marquesas archipelago. All the kids were shocked when she told us. Training stepped up yet again. No longer just Mondays and Wednesdays, we were told to come on Tuesdays and Saturdays as well. At that time, I started to doubt whether I liked the sport enough to endure the training. Each day was 4km tour day (YAY!! . . . NOT!!) with a 1km “cherry” sprint on top. At the end of each practice we were exhausted, having worked practically every muscle in our bodies. Another month passed and the 4km tours were getting easier. That was when coach Cathy and the trainers said that in a week they would decide who would represent the Marquesas in this year’s Eimeo race.
Being that we were getting close to the day of the race, I decided to buy myself a custom wooden outrigger canoe paddle, made by hand by of one of the other paddler’s dad. There were many reasons why I wanted my own paddle. Everyday at paddle practice, we would get whatever paddle the trainers handed us. I had to get acquainted with each paddle, adapting to a different weight, texture, and length. Second, when my mom wasn’t using her custom paddle, I’d try to borrow it. But sometimes she’d be paddling at the same time, so I couldn’t use it. I no longer wanted the stress of wondering if I could or couldn’t use her paddle. I just wanted my own. Thirdly I thought it would be a great souvenir to take with me from our around the world sailing trip. For just $80 US, I could have my own handmade paddle. After just one week of waiting, the masterpiece was in my hands. I was excited to test it out and show it off. Being a non-practice day, the day I took possession of it, I took out a friend’s V-1 and tested the new instrument. It was incredibly light and the length was perfect. At the end of the 4km paddle test-drive, I was satisfied with my investment: those 80 dollars were definitely worth it. To really make it mine, I decided to add a little something special to set it apart from other paddles; I carefully placed a Hinanao vahine beer sticker on the blade. The first time my teammates saw my new paddle, they admired it.Team selection . . .
Monday, three weeks before the Eimeo Race, training was intense. There were three teams. I was part of team 1 and sat in the first seat (Fahoro). Seated behind me were the two best girl paddlers. In seat four was the paddle shaper’s son, Jordi. Then sat the biggest paddler in our paddle group, Keoni, followed by the school’s best helmsman, Raphael, a French kid. Our pirogue was to verse two other canoes in a 4km practice race around Taiohae Bay. One of the opposing canoes consisted of four of the counselors and two strong teen boys. They would be our greatest threat. Frankly the third boat isn’t worth mentioning. Vanena hoe!!! And with that Tahitian shout, the teams were off and paddling. Each member of the three pirogues were paddling at once, trying with each stroke of their paddles to lift their pirogues out of the water, working ferociously to get their boat to plane or glide in order to take the lead. The counselors’ boat quickly took the lead with us right behind. One and half kilometers into the race, little had changed. When the counselors’ pirogue made the first turn around the anchored sailboats and toward the big wharf/fuel dock, our boat gunned it: everyone pushing, rowing, and breathing in perfect unison. Soon we were side by side, us versus them. After five minutes of intense paddling our pirogue took the lead. Once we were one V6 length ahead, I slowed the pace down, maintaining our glide without tiring us out before the finish line. Over the next 2 km, we maintained our boat-length lead. With only a half kilometer to go, our pirogue decided to step it up and finish hard. The captain ordered a three “hip” tempo. By the end of the 4km race, our boat finished first with the distance of two V6’s between us. I don’t even remember what happened to the third boat.
That finish signaled the end of that day’s practice too. After carrying the pirogues out of the surf and onto the turf for overnight storage, the professor called everyone over. She announced, “These are the students who will race in Moorea. Pirogue team set A – Bryce, Keoni (the girl), Jordi, Keoni (the guy), Esperance, and Raphael.” I was super excited. We would remain the same group as we had just raced. She then announced the members for Pirogue team set B. She explained that these were the two teams that would switch off paddling the one canoe around Moorea over the 9 stages. The only bad thing was that with only three weeks left before the big race, rowing practice would only get harder, and it did.
The next week, practice started as normal, with two 4 km tour, but with an added capsize drill at the end of the second tour. The following week, training ramped up more. It transformed into a single 8 km non-stop tour. At the end of training, we were all beat. I questioned whether I would have the stamina for the Moorea race. On the final week before we were to be air-bound, Cathy told us that in addition to racing around Moorea, the guys had to practice the traditional Marquesan warrior dance called haka putu, to be performed in front of all the other Eimeo racers. The other guys and I took each opportunity that week to practice our dance: before paddling, after paddling, and in-between lunches at school. For all the other male teammates, it was easy to dance and chant since they grew up with the dance and spoke Marquesian. But for me, it was a challenge. Memorizing the chant was the hardest, but I knew I could do it. On Wednesday, Cathy huddled all the kids over to remind us of what to bring for the trip: limited to two bags, lots of protein bars for the intervals between stages when we’d be on the team’s support motorboat, and money for the things we would surely want to buy in Tahiti. Everyone prepared for Tuesday’s departure, the start of our small adventure to Tahiti and Moorea.
For Monday’s practice, the day before we were to fly out, only a handful of the kids came to paddle. The two V6 pirogues were required to paddle 8 km. The first half we paddled at a moderate pace; the second, at a faster pace. Even though it was 8km our teams were ready for more, well worked but not exhausted.
That night I packed six t-shirts, six shorts, seven pairs of underwear, four pairs of socks, sandals, pillow, blanket, rain jacket, sun glasses, hat, iPod (for music), and toiletries. I was so excited to travel by airplane and to explore a completely different island from the one I was use to. In the morning I packed a few more things for the race: my life jacket and my good-luck paddle.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.”
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.
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.
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!
Saturday April 11th we met Merle McAssey, a friendly yachtie accomplished in many individual sports: sailing, surfing, wind surfing, kite boarding, kayaking, and his favorite, mountain biking. He performs most any sport well.
During his mountain biking experiences as a guide in Canada he suffered many broken bones, mainly his collarbones. Over four years he broke at least one collarbone (once both at the same time) every 6 months. His most intense injury was breaking his back while hiking to get help during a kayaking expedition. Over several careful months of healing treatments, his back miraculously healed without medical intervention. To say the least, Merle is a very daring and active person!
The following Tuesday, Merle offered to take us surfing if he could get his car working. He explained that his car had been in a crash and his required Mexican insurance wouldn’t pay to fix the damage, so he didn’t repair it. He called it his Afghanistan car because it was so messed up, like a war zone.
Merle got it working so Trent, Dad and I tied our surfboards to the top of his beat-up car and jumped in. This was the first time going surfing without wetsuits. I was very excited to surf in warm water. As we were driving along, Merle told us his surf plans. He explained that he was going to drive us all the way to a surf spot at the very end of the road called Punta Mita, but if the waves weren’t good, we would go to Burro’s instead. When we arrived at Punta Mita and checked out the waves, Merle decided it was okay, so we paddled out to the wave break and waited for a set; it took almost 20 minutes before a set eventually arrived. Everyone including my dad (who doesn’t even surf) caught waves, but they were pretty small for Trent and me.
After a bit, we got out of the water and walked over to an outside restaurant and ordered lunch. Merle ordered only guacamole and chips with fresh coconut water to drink. Everything tasted mighty fine. When we were done, we packed up our stuff and headed back to the car so we could hit up the other surf spot, Burro’s.
This surf spot was excellent. We all had a great time. It was very fun to have my dad out with us catching waves. We planned to go back to this spot again.
A few days later, Merle’s sons, Shandro and Matero, and wife, Allison, returned from vacation in Canada. Since we liked Merle so much, we were excited to meet his family, who we suspected were also cool. We were not disappointed.
We had a lot of fun hanging out with their entire family, getting the inside track of things to do in La Cruz, including aerial tissue workouts.
They showed us the best tacos and how to order the best combo of aqua frescas, homemade Mexican fruit drinks.
Shandro, Matero, Trent, and I slept overnight together: once on the dock behind their boat, another time on the beach in front of the marina’s club house (we had a bonfire and danced like crazy wild guys), and again on our boat at Paradise Village where we slid all day down the resort’s huge water slides.
We hope to see them soon in the Marquesas. They said they would be following us in a year. I looking forward to showing them around this time!
The Galapagos are a very secluded group of islands. There are numerous rare inhabitants that live and prosper on the islands; they are the home of new animal species, never seen or heard of before (until 1535). These islands are what gave birth to the discussion of evolution. The coordinates on the Pacific Ocean are Latitude 0° and Longitude 91°; they are located 600 miles away from the closest mainland (Ecuador) and have been part of Ecuador since the 1870’s. There are fifteen islands in the group, and nineteen volcanoes, which created the islands, the first one over 4 million years ago. These islands play a big part in human history and the study of life.
The man who discovered these islands was Fray Tomas De Berlanga. Sent on a mission from King Charles V to report on the anarchic Peru situation. It was March 10, 1535 that his ship officially discovered the Galapagos Islands. It was an accident, he was drifting with the current since there was no wind and soon enough he happened upon the fifteen islands. Which over time developed the name enchanted islands. At the time, the Latitude and Longitude of the islands were not easy to determine, so the islands were really hard to find. Even though Fray Tomas discovered them, Charles Darwin founder of the Theory of Evolution made them famous. In 1832 the islands were officially claimed part of Ecuador, which now supplies them with resources. In the beginning the islands had no indigenous people; no one had lived there except for the animals. Since then, the population of the Galapagos has tripled in the last 20 years, now there are over 35,000 people spread throughout the four main islands, (one of the excursion guides said that 220,000 tourists visited the islands in 2014). The Galapagos are not a largely populated group of islands compared to Venice Beach in California where on a beautiful Sunday, one million people flood the beaches from outlying areas of Los Angeles.
There are numerous amounts of animals spread throughout all the islands. The most famous animals that live there are the Marine Iguanas, Tortoises, Galapagos Penguins, Flightless Cormorants, Blue Footed Boobies and Darwin’s thirteen finches. The only way these creatures could have found their way to the Galapagos would have been by bird, in a bird, on a bird, by the current on a flotation device, by swimming or by adapting/evolving. Even after finding the Galapagos the various species had to find a source of food not already being consumed, then find a mate to keep the species going. It is very challenging to survive in a new environment!
Although there are lots of animals on the island, I want to talk about a certain three: Blue-footed Boobies, Darwin’s Finches, and Marine Iguanas. The reason the Blue-Footed Boobie is called boobie is due to the Spanish name for stupid = bobo. These birds like most birds love to eat fish and will dive meters out of the sky to catch one…too bad they do the same for fishing lures as we snagged a brown boobie which sadly drowned on our lure about 1,000 miles away from the islands. They also like to live in colonies among the shore next to the ocean, and they only live to the age of about 20. Despite the birds’ stupidity, it is still one of my favorite animals living on the islands. On the island you might be able to find the blue -footed boobie waddle like penguins trying to impress the females in their mating dance trying to show off their blue feet. If the female is fond of the male’s dance she will follow along behind him imitating his little dance. The dance itself is rather silly.
The Galapagos Islands are home to Darwin’s famous 13 finches, which he discovered in 1835. According to Darwin, the first island that the Mother of all Galapagos finches arrived on was San Cristobal, and over time the finches migrated to the other islands. As the population of the finches grew on the islands and resources became scarce, adaptations started to occur. To the untrained eye, the finches look very similar. They all mostly have the same color, brown green or black, and pretty much have the regular sizes: small, medium and large, but if you take a closer look, you might be able to tell that the beaks on each variety of bird have slight differences.The reason for this is different varieties of food require different bills. So over time, Darwin speculated that the first finches that colonized on San Cristobal, eventually adapted and their bills modified for specific eating functions. Darwin felt the species evolved over time due to natural selection in newborns. Newborns that had the ability to eat different varieties of food due to slight changes in thickness or length or shape of the beak enabled them to survive and reproduce. That is how the theory of evolution came to be.
Galapagos Marine Iguanas are the only iguanas known to man that can swim in the ocean; they only live on these islands. Their main diet is algae, which they dive down into the ocean blue to eat. During the day, you can find the iguanas lying everywhere, warming themselves and trying to relieve their lungs of salt water so they can go back into the ocean and get something more to eat. When walking nearby one, it’s important to be aware for the occasional salty snott ball that they blow out of their noses. These reptiles have many interesting features. One very noticeable feature is their spiny-like mohawk that runs all the way from the top of their head to the end of their tail. When you look at them, you might think they are the next step down from a dragon; they have long claws, black skin, spikey mohawks, and they spit water instead of fire from their noses. They are the most interesting animals on the islands!
We got a chance to visit Isabela Island, the largest island in the Galapagos. It was really cool to see all the unusual creatures that live there in the water and on the land. I was so excited to see in person the Marine Iguanas and the Blue-Footed Boobies. We also got a chance to explore Sierra Negra Volcan, which has the second largest crater in the world. I thought the sulfer holes were colorful and interesting as everything else on the lava fields was black. Most of all, the snorkeling was extraordinary; I loved seeing a 4.5 foot white tipped shark sleeping in a water cave, and swimming next to humungous green sea turtles. I had a great time on the island of Isabela.
Surfing is the sport that I like most in the world. It is what I look forward to doing every day. The first time I ever surfed was in Hawaii, but I couldn’t paddle my way into the wave as I was too weak. I was only 8 years old. My parents and little brother Trent tried surfing in Hawaii as well. It was very fun but other than that I wasn’t that excited about the sport. When I really started getting into surfing was when I moved to Ventura. Sure I did some surfing along the way in Venice during a summer camp one year and during Junior Lifeguards the summer before we moved, but surfing didn’t become my passion until Ventura.
The first boards we had were the wave storm long foam blue boards from Costco. But after a couple weeks in fair weather Ventura surfing in spring suits, we were sure we were ready for the next step up. Mom took us over to “Play It Again Sports” to find some second hand full wetsuits because Ventura waters are cold. My dad saw a great deal on Sushi boards at Costco and bought them, surprising us with them one day. When Trent and I saw them we were both extremely happy and eager to take them into the water.
When we moved to Ventura everything was about the boat: unpacking, packing, moving again and so on. Yet, Mom would take us surfing often right after school. At the time, we tried to make surfing a daily event since we weren’t in any organized sports and didn’t have a lot of friends. We were fanatics my brother and I. Our passion for the sport surfing had begun! My parents would hear the same questions over and over again. It was either, “Can we go surfing today?” or “Can we go surfing with Charlie?”
One day while we were surfing at the fun beginner spot called Mondo’s just north of Ventura at Faria Beach, my brother Trent saw (who is now our best friend) Charlie, a boy from his 5th grade class at Pierpont. Trent paddled over to see him and after awhile, Trent and Charlie along with some friends walked up the beach to his house and met Charlie’s parents. As we became better friends and our parents became acquainted, we spent a lot of time with Charlie surfing from his house.
Soon my brother and I became more advanced; we decided we needed new boards. We took a lesson with the local surf instructor, Jeff Belzer, and he suggested we head over to Robert’s, a local surfboard designer with the instructions to purchase longish boards for our skill and epoxy instead of fiberglass in order for them to handle the heavy abuse of living outside on the sailboat. We bought two boards: a 6 foot 4” and a 5 foot 10” board. Having got our new epoxy boards, we begged our dad to let us take them out that day. But however hard we tried, he said it was too late – probably tomorrow. The next day, we surfed on them without applying any wax because we didn’t know any better. I determined that I wasn’t fond of the 5 foot 10” board. When we bought it Robert said that if I didn’t like it, I could switch it with another one. So the following day we went back to the shop and asked to exchange the one board for another 6 foot 4” one like Trent’s. Robert said, “Look, I have one but it’s mine and it’s still in my car. I will make you this trade though.” So he went to his car and pulled out the board. He handed it to me and pointed out that written on the back of the board was “Thank you Lord for this board” and then his signature. We took it home and the next day showed our new boards to Charlie. We both loved our new surfboards!
Six or so months later, Trent decided to get himself a more advanced shorter fiberglass board so that he could duckdive under the bigger waves. He would have to purchase it completely himself this time though. We drove back to Robert’s shop and checked out the latest selection of boards. Charlie came along too and was looking at us like we were crazy for getting new boards, but I just think he was jealous that we got boards just as good as his in such a short time. As we checked the boards out, my brother spotted one he liked with a fancy flame design and determined the height and width would be perfect for him. One reason why he liked it was because it had spots for five fins and we always wanted to try out five fins. Before he found this new board, I wasn’t planning on getting a new board, but then I got a bit envious and decided I wanted a new one too. I scouted around the shop and picked one out that I liked for a reasonable price. It had everything I wanted except a paint design. That day we both returned back home to Kandu with new boards; mine was 5 foot 6” and my brother’s was 5 foot 7”. A week later, my dad and I started to prep the board for painting. I decided to paint a red, white and blue lightning bolt. We sanded it, taped it up, researched and bought the paint, painted it and then had to wait another day to add a lacquer type finish paint. The whole process felt like years of torture not being able to use my new board. When we finally finished it, my board looked beautiful. I called her “The Patriot.” We drove over to our friend Charlie’s house to surf and it was like floating on clouds. I absolutely loved it!
So now almost every time we can fit in a little surf time we do. On my family’s trip to sail around the world, the main thing that I’m looking forward to is surfing perfect, clean and clear barrels!!! Surfing is the sport I love and a sport I hope to always love. I look forward to surfing with people around the world! I hope I’ll find some fellow surfers around the world who love it as much as I do.
On Thursday, April 2nd, a week and a day after we departed from Ensenada, we arrived at Bahia Maria: a very open and peaceful place in Mexico. The town was quiet and the wind was strong. There was practically nobody there. The only other boat in sight was a 75 or so ft. expedition type boat with three jet skis tied off the back of it. The only reason why we were at this particular bay was because the surfing was supposedly good. But in the long run we found a different purpose in staying: sliding down giant sand dunes. After some time getting settled in, putting up our little canopy, and placing our life jackets back where they belonged, we decided to have dinner. Lately during our travels on the boat we haven’t been eating as much. So instead of three meals a day we’d only eat two. My mom made rice and beans and we all gobbled the meal down.
The next day we woke up early to motor around the bay to check out the surf spots. We pulled up anchor and took a little put put around, looking for the best wave break. While motoring, I pulled out the binoculars and saw in the background, mountains of sand hills just waiting to be slid down. I was so excited. I couldn’t wait to go and ride them. Right around the spot where I saw the sand dunes, was a nice little surf break. We anchored, and then Trent and I hopped in the water with our surfboards and wet suits. During our surf time, we caught only a few little waves. Although they were small they were still very fun. I thought it was super cool to have our own private surf spot for just the two of us. Returning to the boat, we stowed our surf supplies and readied ourselves for sand sledding over at the big dunes. When he and I were all prepped with the necessities: kayak, life jackets, paddles, swim trunks, and boogie boards, we headed off.
Getting to the beach was the hardest part. In the end, we both got wet. Due to the active surf, I got completely soaked where Trent got only a little wet in comparison. We parked our kayak, and as we were drying our clothes, we observed sand dollars lying on the beach, everywhere, of all sizes. It was very cool to see so many different selections. The finest ones were the bright white variety and the best part was that almost all of them were complete and unbroken. It was the most sand dollars I had ever seen in my life. While walking to the sand hill, we noticed that there were a whole lot of other shell varieties too. Shells littered the beach as far as the eye could see. Climbing up the dune and looking down the 30 ft. hill, I thought of all the different possibilities how I might crash. At some point, I ignored whatever doubt there was and just went for it. Running straight for edge of the hill, I pushed my self down on my stomach and slid all the way down to the bottom without crashing. I felt a rush of adrenalin surge through my body, and it felt really good. I went down a few more times on my stomach and eventually became somewhat bored. To make it more interesting, we walked around the dunes trying to find a steeper and taller hill, but during all our time trying out new slopes the best one was still our starter sand mountain. We headed back to our mountain of sand and rested. We then came up with another way to slide down the hill: on our bottoms. I went first and surprisingly made it all the way down on my first try. It felt as if I were going down at 25mph. We tried all the positions we could think of: backwards, standing up and on our knees, tandem riding, and standing up on our feet. Overall the most fun for me was standing up on my feet. It felt very good being able to make it all the way down: feeling the wind rushing on my face, and having the view of the ocean with our wee little boat in the distance.
After 3 or 4 hours of sand dune fun, my dad blew the horn calling us back. We gathered our stuff, including a selection of sand dollars, then placed it all on the kayak. On the way out, we got extremely wet getting pounded wave after wave, but eventually we made it safe and sound back to the boat. We unloaded our belongings one by one. All was accounted for, including some extras, our sand dollars. We showed them off to our parents while recounting the whole story of our adventures. We asked if we could do it all over again tomorrow. Their reply was a kind, “maybe.”
The next day I woke up at six in the morning and asked if we could motor over to the sand dunes again. Thankfully my dad said yes. So we ate breakfast quickly, pulled up the anchor and headed back over to the dunes. When Kandu arrived near the sand dune spot, Trent and I pulled everything together to get ready to go: our kayak, paddles, boogie boards, and backpack full of camera supplies. This time my mom said she was coming, and she actually did. First we stationed Mom in the middle of the boat, and then we jumped on. We paddled to where the waves were crashing less, and timed everything out to make sure we didn’t get too wet. Right as I saw an opening, we started paddling. My mom was freaking out and yelled at us to go faster since the water was way to cold for her. We finally made it safely without getting too wet and cold. I pulled up the kayak away from where the waves reached and we grabbed our stuff to head out. Trent and I led our mom to the sand dune where we had slid down the day before. To our surprise, it looked 5 ft. steeper than yesterday. I went first to show mom how to do it and right behind me was Trent. After a few demonstrations, mom decided to give it a try. We explained to her all the basics of how to go down without breaking anything and then she went. She made it all the way down in one peace on her first time around, and was smiling.
Trent decided he would bring out his GoPro and video camera the action. Our first video wasn’t that good. In the beginning, he panned around, and then he went down first with me following. It wasn’t as cool as the video when I went down first. We took a few more videos and walked around the dunes to see if there were any other hills that had formed over last nights wind. But the best one was still our initial dome of sand. After a while, I was done and walked down to the beach to swim; it was a little chilly. I called Trent over to come and kayak surf with me. Trent and mom packed up and headed back down to the beach. He and I paddled into the waves to catch some fun. Finally a wave came but sadly failed to catch it. As we went out for another go, my dad blew the horn to bring us in. We turned around to head in, but saw a great wave. We paddled for the wave and caught it. The wave knocked me off the kayak into the water, and even though the kayak was about to flip, Trent somehow managed to ride the yellow banana all the way back to shore. Now it was really time to leave. We stuffed the GoPro camera and our favorite sand dollars in the backpack and left. It was a bit rough getting off the beach, but we made it safe and sound back to our cozy little boat. After straightening up the boat, Kandu & crew threw off anchor to head off to a new destination in Mexico: Puerto Vallarta.
It was a great time in Bahia Maria. Our two days were filled with many adventures: sliding down 35ft. hills, surfing at our own beach, finding the most sand dollars I’ve ever seen, and hanging out with family. And the best part was that it was all ours, our own private bay.
The first real surf lesson I had was a private lesson with my brother Trent at Ventura Point. The instructor’s name was Jeff Belzer, a very cool and nice guy. He is also very well known in Ventura because he has won a lot of surf competitions and he is owner of a surf school and conducts surf camps: Makos Surf Lessons. To start off the lesson, we watched the waves and evaluated the surf, looking for the best wave break as well as determining the best spot for surf that day. It took five minutes to decide where the waves looked best. The waves were okay there, but we decided to change our spot to a bit better location and parked in front of our chosen surf spot. After getting our wet suits on, we grabbed our boards and walked down to the beach and started our warm-ups. We stretched and did jumping jacks then, headed into the water by ourselves without Jeff so he could evaluate our skills from the beach.
As Trent and I paddled into the water, the waves crashed into us since, at the time, we didn’t know how to duck dive; it was very hard to paddle out. When I pulled into my first wave, I attempted to stand up, but tumbled headfirst back into the ocean. Trent on the other hand successfully stood on his board. Being the older brother, I was embarrassed that my little brother bested me. But within a minute I successfully caught a wave. After about 15 minutes of surfing, Jeff signaled us back to shore to give us a lecture on how to improve our surfing. A couple things he suggested included to go down the line when surfing, pop up quickly onto the board, and above all, always keep your balance.
We headed back out, but this time Jeff joined us in the water and Trent and I both caught some great waves. After 45 minutes of instruction in the water using our sushi boards, we got to try out some spectacular epoxy short boards that Jeff had brought along. I loved using these shorter boards! Part of the lesson was to have Jeff help us figure out what kind of boards we should upgrade to.
When our sea time was up with Jeff, we met on shore and he gave us ideas of what the next step up for boards should be. Jeff suggested I get a wide 6ft 4” Roberts’s board, and make it wide. For my brother, he said the same but his board could be wide or skinny. Everyone liked the idea of epoxy boards since epoxy is stronger. Our boards living atop our boat Kandu, would likely fare better than fiberglass boards.
Thanking Jeff for all his time and great advice, I felt excited about how much I had learned. He gave us both great suggestions and pointers. I will always remember the advice that Jeff Belzer from Ventura Makos gave me.
Following our lesson with Jeff, we bought 6ft 4” boards and surfed with them frequently to put our new information to the test. We loved the feeling of the new boards! But for us it wasn’t enough. Trent and I decided to buy new smaller boards with our own money. Again at Roberts’ work surf shop, we found two beautiful surfboards. Trent bought a 5ft 7” fiberglass board that had a flaming paint job on it. I bought a 5ft 6” fiberglass board, which was just plain white: a blank canvas to paint a red and blue lightening bolt. We brought them both home and a few days later we were floating on clouds in the ocean.
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