November 26, 2010
13:30
Half an ocean away, consumers everywhere are going out and braving the chilly atmosphere of fall. They strive to find the best deals on all the goods and services that will satisfy their gift-giving needs. Meanwhile I sit on finely-crafted culmination of steel, wood, blood, and sweat that's anchored just off the edge of a massive thunderstorm that is crashing over Tahiti with it's might. The oceans are warming now in the southern hemisphere. With this, the placid weather slowly turn fierce. The well-known cyclonic systems will soon acquire their requisite warm waters to breed. But it's a slow transition. Before that the more localized systems turn brutal. The light, puffy tradewind clouds are gorging themselves with the convective power of the sun. The fluffy pancakes are visible in the morning but tower to stratospheric heights by the evening. The normally-rare squalls come with a frequence and lighting storms are now a nightly spectacle. In short, it's time to go.
December 3, 2010
07:00
Today is a historic day. Walk On is to take her first steps towards Hawaiian shores. After much work the captain, admiral, and crew have deemed her fit to cut a bluewater wake. Our first stop will be the illustrious Moorea, an island I have yet to visit and one that tingles the nerves of Walk On's proprietors. It has reportedly been their favorite location yet in their Polynesian voyage, Opunohu Bay especially. It will also turn out be a wonderful opportunity to reconnect with Dan who is living the Polynesian lifestyle with Pesa's family. It's just a short hop across the channel to Moorea and along the way, we plan to fine tune Walk On's refitted rig. We've only been able to do so much in the flat waters of the lagoon. The rest will have to be completed underway. Walk On tied up at Marina Taina:
We've worked hard for this day to come. Between Mike and I there's been dozens of forays up and down the mast. Each and every shroud, besides the forestay and the babystay, were taken down, cleaned, cut and fitted with a new mast terminal. After the lower starboard shroud fell to deck on their Galapagos-to-Marquesas passage, Mike decided to take no chances and we replaced all the possible weak links in the rig. And a smart idea that turned out to be, as at least half of the previous ones were cracking welds and threatening imminent failure. While Mike and I were wrestling with the aluminum stick, Larissa was down below or at the market organizing and purchasing provisions, an, arguably, more important job.
10:58
Although we have been working our pretty little butts off to get her ready to go, this doesn't mean we haven't had nice respites between monkeying sessions. A few days into my stay aboard came Thanksgiving and coinciding with it, Michael's birthday. A true feast was prepared. French Polynesia's finest beef was barbequed to perfection by Mike and Larissa prepared a delicious salad and mashed potatoes with gravy (our homage to Thanksgiving). I vigilantly supervised their operations. We ate heartily and washed it all down with generous helpings of Larissa's homemade red velvet cake. The hinano, the feast, and the cake:
We'll soon be back on the open water. Our first destination being Moorea and from there to the Tuamotus (an undecided atoll) and then the Marquesas (probably Nuku Hiva). We'll refill our fresh rations there before beating up to Hawaii.
13:30
Half an ocean away, consumers everywhere are going out and braving the chilly atmosphere of fall. They strive to find the best deals on all the goods and services that will satisfy their gift-giving needs. Meanwhile I sit on finely-crafted culmination of steel, wood, blood, and sweat that's anchored just off the edge of a massive thunderstorm that is crashing over Tahiti with it's might. The oceans are warming now in the southern hemisphere. With this, the placid weather slowly turn fierce. The well-known cyclonic systems will soon acquire their requisite warm waters to breed. But it's a slow transition. Before that the more localized systems turn brutal. The light, puffy tradewind clouds are gorging themselves with the convective power of the sun. The fluffy pancakes are visible in the morning but tower to stratospheric heights by the evening. The normally-rare squalls come with a frequence and lighting storms are now a nightly spectacle. In short, it's time to go.
December 3, 2010
07:00
Today is a historic day. Walk On is to take her first steps towards Hawaiian shores. After much work the captain, admiral, and crew have deemed her fit to cut a bluewater wake. Our first stop will be the illustrious Moorea, an island I have yet to visit and one that tingles the nerves of Walk On's proprietors. It has reportedly been their favorite location yet in their Polynesian voyage, Opunohu Bay especially. It will also turn out be a wonderful opportunity to reconnect with Dan who is living the Polynesian lifestyle with Pesa's family. It's just a short hop across the channel to Moorea and along the way, we plan to fine tune Walk On's refitted rig. We've only been able to do so much in the flat waters of the lagoon. The rest will have to be completed underway. Walk On tied up at Marina Taina:
We've worked hard for this day to come. Between Mike and I there's been dozens of forays up and down the mast. Each and every shroud, besides the forestay and the babystay, were taken down, cleaned, cut and fitted with a new mast terminal. After the lower starboard shroud fell to deck on their Galapagos-to-Marquesas passage, Mike decided to take no chances and we replaced all the possible weak links in the rig. And a smart idea that turned out to be, as at least half of the previous ones were cracking welds and threatening imminent failure. While Mike and I were wrestling with the aluminum stick, Larissa was down below or at the market organizing and purchasing provisions, an, arguably, more important job.
Although we have been working our pretty little butts off to get her ready to go, this doesn't mean we haven't had nice respites between monkeying sessions. A few days into my stay aboard came Thanksgiving and coinciding with it, Michael's birthday. A true feast was prepared. French Polynesia's finest beef was barbequed to perfection by Mike and Larissa prepared a delicious salad and mashed potatoes with gravy (our homage to Thanksgiving). I vigilantly supervised their operations. We ate heartily and washed it all down with generous helpings of Larissa's homemade red velvet cake. The hinano, the feast, and the cake:
We'll soon be back on the open water. Our first destination being Moorea and from there to the Tuamotus (an undecided atoll) and then the Marquesas (probably Nuku Hiva). We'll refill our fresh rations there before beating up to Hawaii.
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