Gizo

Anchored in Gizo. Super busy little town. boat traffic everywhere. We clear into customs, immigration, and quarantine here. There are a couple bars right on the water that get roudy at night, and the sound travels right to the boat. After the dead silence of San Cristobal, this was very abrasive. Joining them a couple nights helped a bit, and pretty soon we were sure that the loudest night was the first night we got here.

We expected Gizo to have great resources for re-supplying, but it was much worse than Vanuatu. Luckily we had bought quite a lot of dry goods or canned food in Port Vila, that we wouldn’t need much of that for awhile. The market provided with plenty of fresh fruits and veggies, and the fish market was very good, too.

 

The other side of the island had nice beaches and very good surf, so we would take the transport truck at least every other day over there.

I loved surfing with the local kids. Typically one of them would see me paddling out, so they would go and grab their board and paddle out with me. There were also a bunch of local guys about my age who were really great surfers. They said that in 1995 a pilot stopped here and was the first one to surf the break. Since then they have depended on other surfers donating boards to support their surfing habits. One guy named Tommy Lee surfed all the time. Often, he would already be surfing when I got there, and would still be surfing when I left. He would pick up odd jobs if he needed cash, but otherwise he just tended is garden, kept up the maintenance on his house, and took care of his family. A positively good dude, happy to be living this life.

We had just about ran out of water since leaving Vanuatu, and expected that we could find water in Gizo, and since the rainy season was coming on we thought we would be fine collecting rain water. It turned out that there was no safe drinking water source for us. We were buying bottled water in the stores, it wasn’t raining at all, and it sounded like there was a water shortage all over the island. We noticed guys with water jugs in their canoes paddling through a gap in the mangroves, so I thought we’d investigate. I couldn’t find exactly where they had gone, so I started asking people, and was directed to a pipe that was fed by a natural spring up the hill. I asked if this was drinking water, and was told it was by one guy, and that it wasn’t by another. I remember reading about a water treatment technique that uses UV light to kill bacteria. Use a 1 liter plastic bottle, fill it with water clear of sediment, and place it in the sun for 6 hours. After that it is drinkable. We had saved all of our plastic bottled we’d been buying in the store, so by first filling our jerry cans and bringing them to the boat, we then filled our plastic bottles and placed them on deck in the sun. We did this everyday until we had filled our tanks. We also used this method in other parts of the Solomons with questionable water sources, until we had the opportunity to buy a filter and have it shipped.to us in Honiara.

When we later returned to Gizo, after being gone for 3 months, I felt quite warm to the place. Fast internet aloud us to catch up with family, learn about the latest disasters, and find out about more ways The Man is fucking shit up.

We took a break from Gizo town by sailing 8 miles and anchoring near the northern part of the island. We were at the top of a little bay that gave us access to lots of little islets and reefs to snorkel, fish, and hang out. It was here that we finally got some rain to collect for water.

The surf report looked good, but since we were now on another part of the island, we had to figure out a new way to get there. The surf break was about eight miles around to the west of the island, but that would be a really long trip in the dinghy, so we took the dinghy just four miles to the village at the and of the road, then caught a truck to go the rest of the way. Apparently there was supposed to be a charge for leaving our dinghy on the beach where it was, but the landowner was on another island, so we didn’t have to pay. Really, it was just a public beach. The next day we decided to do the same thing. When we got to the village, the weather was really nice, so we decided not to deal with possible charges and just take the dinghy the extra four miles to the surf. We had a great surf, but by the afternoon the wind had picked up out of the north, the direction we had to go to get back to the anchorage. Up till this point, this would have been the longest trip we had taken in ol’ ding ding. So we bashed our way through the wind chop all eight miles back to the anchorage. The ride was so bumpy we both chafed our bottoms. Added to the tough ride was the fact that I was nearly out of fuel. But we made it, and have continued to push the limits of our dinghy.

We celebrated Serena’s birthday with an amazing day of snorkeling, fishing, and hanging out on our own little island. The water was so glassy and clear we would be racing over the reef, sneaking up on rays and sharks. Our surroundings taking our breath away.

Out here we caught our first squid. I wasn’t actually fishing for squid, but it seemed to like my lure, grabbed on to it, and I pulled it into the boat. Simple to clean, and super tasty fried up.

San Cristobal Island!

This was our first stop in the Solomon Islands, and it was beautiful! We anchored in Haununu bay, and it was perfectly still and quiet. Very pleasant to stop here after 6 days at sea.

 Upon anchoring we are visited by a few of the local fisherman paddling their outrigger canoes. They are some of the most calm and peaceful people I've ever met. Some parts of the Solomon Islands have a very bad reputation for things being stolen off your boat, so at first as we watched these fishermen checking out this strange ship before them, saying not a word, we thought they were looking for items to steal. We soon realized, though, that they don't see boats like this very often. They were quietly taking it all in. I sit in the cockpit, as the fishermen sit in their canoes, holding onto the rail of the sailboat. I am also silent, as i absorb the awesomeness of their canoe craft. I watch them whisper the name of our boat. One says he really likes the color. Another asks if it goes fast. I respond, “no.” They leave after first making sure we know that all is free here, and we are welome.

We asked about malaria. They said, “yes, this is the Solomons. There is malaria.”

We also asked about crocodiles. They said that there used to be an old croc that lived here, but it died last year, so there are no more crocs. I thought it interesting that there would be just one old croc living here. A zen croc just living out his days in this peaceful bay. I imagined him reflecting on his youth. Maybe he grew up somewhere else down the coast, helped bring in the next generation, then retired to this bay.

 

Our overland adventures we're assisted by these awesome foot paths through the jungle. rarely did we even see another person, who was just as surprised to see us as we were to see them. We would walk for hours, choosing left or right as we came to a fork, hopefully remembering our way back.

Our Passage from Port Vila to San Cristobal

We sailed six days from Port Vila in Vanuatu to San Cristobal in the Solomon Islands.
The following photos are from the trip.

 

big lessons: our sail from Vanuatu to the Solomon Islands

This was a new sort of passage for me. It had the potential to be shortest of the passages, being only 900 miles. And although it wasn’t the first passage sailing with someone unfamiliar with sailing, it was the first with only Serena on board. I had a new sort of pressure on me, self inflicted, of course, but present nonetheless. I felt responsible for Serena, which on a practical level with the maintenance and mobility of the boat, I am. When I had buddies on board I did not feel this pressure because as individuals each takes care of oneself. This little bit of extra pressure, along with a very rolly downwind sail and my failure to practice my usual regimented sleep/eat schedule made this passage my most difficult, the pressure leading to stress, stress leading to lack of sleep, lack of sleep leading to anxiety, and anxiety leading to insomnia, forcing me to stop after six days sailing, and anchor on San Christobal Island, 300 miles short of Gizo, where we were to clear into the Solomon Islands. I was terrified that I would never sail again, denying the reality of what that would mean, anchored to an island in a country we hadn’t technically arrived in yet, in a bay where no one lived. This is what fear can do to you. But where did this fear come from? Fear of fear, the cycle that anxiety lives on. Putting the pressure of the world on your shoulders; just the pressure of one single self on the shoulders of someone trying to know Reality can be enough to cripple them. I learned (again) about faith and trust. A lesson I began learning the moment I set sail from California, when faith outweighed experience, and I was forced to pray my way along. As I gained experience sailing, I pushed away faith. I could do anything at anytime. I could manage every aspect of the passage. That is what I thought. So, this passage was very much a shakedown sail for me.



It doesn’t matter what you are doing, but how you do it. Yes, I was sailing a beautiful boat across oceans, but I was having trouble living with myself, and accepting my life. I mean, accepting that I must have a life. A life that ends in death. This is another underlying source of my anxiety. I could not accept this life with death. I couldn’t believe that I could do all of this, and that one day none of it would matter because I would die. What was the point?


I (re)learned faith, regiment(practice), and trust.

For me, faith meant doing what was reasonable and within my abilities, then leaving the rest up to God (the unifying force of the universe). Every person has faith in something, supported by whatever is evident to that person. If you don’t understand a person’s faith without an explanation, you won’t understand it with one. Some people’s faith comes to them gradually in soft ways, while with others it is forced into their vision through tragedy or turmoil. It means surrendering to a higher power, inspiring a feeling of oneness and peace. I believe oneness is at the center of every faith. Even science expresses the awesome oneness of everything in the universe showing that the atoms we are made up of have been dinosaurs or rain, and were generated in stars that all began billions of years ago from one single point in the universe. That is awesome oneness. So, for me to survive on the open ocean (and as I am finding out in life), I needed faith.


Regiment meant eating and sleeping regularly, even if I wasn’t hungry or sleepy. You never know what challenges the sailing will bring, so even if everything is going well, staying ahead with nourishment and rest is critical for managing stress. This has translated itself into my everyday life as practices. Exercise, work, spirituality, play, and relationship are five tools I work to keep in balance everyday. 

Learning trust was partly tied into my understanding of faith, and through my relationship with Serena. I had to trust in the process that I was going through. I had to trust that good would come of it. The first few months on the boat were very difficult being away from home. Western life brings infinite distractions from Reality. Removed from that and we were like chickens with our heads cut off. We were confronted with ourselves. Not really understanding why we were being so challenged, we had to trust in the experience. We had to remain the witness, and be neutral to everything that hit us.


Now, once anchored in San Cristobal, I ran in place and did jumping jacks in the cockpit everyday for exercise, meditated, did yoga, and went on long jungle walks to get myself back in shape for the sail onward to Gizo. After 5 days at anchor, we set sail again, and I made sure to follow my schedule of eating and sleeping every few hours. I refused to participate with stress, and worked hard to remain the witness. In the beginning of the trip i was afraid of suffering like I had before, but through my practices I softened more and more over the three days, and fell into It again, surrendering.
   

As far as the actual sailing goes, we were quite lucky this time of year to have consistent winds all the way. Sometimes there would be squalls, but overall the weather was good. We even managed to cook a pizza one night while underway. So, as I reflect on the passage, I think of the beautiful sailing we had, and the many lessons I learned.

A Passage to Anuta

A short film of our passage from Majuro in the Marshall Islands, to Anuta, the eastern most island of the Solomon Islands.

A Passage to Anuta from Genesis Earthling on Vimeo.

jive Surfboards

Here is a short film showing some recent builds.

jive Surfboards from Genesis Earthling on Vimeo.

 

 

I post photos of each surfboard I make here:  jive Surfboards