To disappoint optimists.

Some optimist expected us, I think me in particular, to get lost at sea on the way to the South Pacific, but I'm happy to foil their expectations. Rumors of our demise are vastly exaggerated. Yes, we did have a long passage due to light winds, a barnacle encrusted hull, a lost propeller in the doldrums and ripped sails, but we are still among the living, unless we managed to look dead very convincingly after five weeks of bobbing, running out of propane to cook anything warm and living on nuts, dried fruit and chocolate covered raisins, a hard life, indeed. My partner has never sailed before on the open ocean, has panicked only once...every five minutes and to my delight, survived the ordeal and when we finally sighted land, shed tears of joy and promised never to put her feet on a boat again. I still have to finish the trip and get to Tahiti but when we arrive there, she will never have to sail again.
Coasting around the eastern end of Hiva Oa, Marquesas, in the late afternoon, we decided not to make land fall until the following morning and hove to. At daybreak we continued toward Atuona and around 10:00h in the morning we got radio contact with a vessel named "Imagine". A man by the name Bruce organized a tow for us into the harbor and assisted in setting out our stern anchor and welcomed us to Polynesia with french bread, pampelmouse, butter and to my relief, no dance. Another boat , "Wasabi", lent us his propane bottle and we enjoyed a hot cup of tea after almost two weeks of abstinence.
We decided to go for a little walk on the island to see if the legs would be able to carry the rest of our body and to my surprise, they did, but, oh boy, what a pitiful sight we were, walking like drunks and grinning like imbeciles.

Jeanette, my daughter, joined us in Nuku Hiva and has lost her sea-legs and now moves on the boat like a seal, nose close to the rail, ready to share her breakfast with the fish, which she did with relentless vigor, a noble action and very entertaining. For some time I wondered what some folks meant when commenting on the vertical racing decor on the side of the hull, until I found some bits and pieces and recognized them as foodstuff when surveyed the vessel.
I still enjoy the ocean but have acquired a symptom known as ogre-ism according to my crew and tempers are flaring like sudden solar spots. But we will not let that spoil the taste of the soccer-size grape fruits, the sweet mangoes, breadfruit, passion fruit and other assorted delicacies.
The trip itself was great. We had no storms although the waves were about 10-15 feet and we had sometimes a day with about 20-25 knots of wind but nothing serious. That is of course not the opinion of my partner and she thought the waves were crazy.
My frustrations were with the slow speed of the boat because of the growth on the bottom, we could not do better than 5 knots at best. In the doldrums we cheered when we got 2 knots.

The Way to Paradise.

In our quest to happiness we’ll find no fact so true,
The surest way to Paradise passes right through Hell.
No words, no hints, no stories told will ever be as real,
Just the act of daring, facing our fears, can truly tell the tale,
I say: The surest way to Paradise passes right through Hell.

It all begins so easy, high hopes and dreams and trembling hearts,
And yet, in the pit of our bellies are knots, dark shadows, the unknown,
Expectations, worries, nagging thoughts, all a cause of sleepless nights.
Will the journey we prepare truly be as we plan, or will it go as well?
I say: The surest way to Paradise passes right through Hell.

To taste life in its many ways, we must have courage, to break limits,
Embrace sights along the way, watch the fears, Forever it’s the same.
The path is not the one we know, not for the faint at heart or timid,
Just the act of daring, facing our fears, can truly tell the tale,
I say: The surest way to Paradise passes right through Hell.

Winds, waves, the darkness of the night, Sounds that can’t be right,
It’s new and frightening, looking for security, holding hands so tight,
Deep inside a doubt arises, did I really want to do this trip with you?
But fear is not geography, something we need to solve alone and well.
I say: The surest way to Paradise passes right through Hell.

Heavy seas, a rolling deck, slipping, sliding, handling sails at night,
snagging lines, snapping, flogging ceaselessly, asking all our skills.
Never a moment silence or rest, escape from all the work and swell
Death glaring at our back, waiting for an opening, never out of sight,
I say: The surest way to Paradise passes right through Hell.

Finally, land rises from the sea, a sob escapes the throat,
a tear, falling so hot, it burns. A smile as wide as garden gates,
forgotten are the sleepless nights, the hardships for a while,
relief floods through the veins like vine, nothing matters, ring a bell,
I say: The surest way to Paradise passes right through Hell.

The mates we meet, who share our dreams, just maybe for a while,
Who’re going through the same old fear, to deal with it in their own time
Understand, the enemy is not our mate, the sea or ship, but our fear.
It’s inside our very being, bringing light to the heart is our task and do it well,
I say: The surest way to Paradise passes right through Hell.