Libertalia-archived's blog

Libertalia is for sale! Ive been very slack and have not posted anything on our blog for quite some time. Thats not to say I havent written anything... just nothing that got completed or met my personal standard for posting. This post is a bit different. I figure I should post something, so Im just writing and will post it without even reviewing it myself.

We are on our way south, more or less, slowly making our way towards Ile De Pins.
At Baie De La Torture, some friendly Aussies popped over to torture us with their accents. They had spotted us out by a reef where Michelle was sunbathing on the dinghy and I was spearfishing. “Did yeer keel anything?” they asked. We shook our heads and conceded we hadnt speared a thing. These Aussies, however, were fair dinkum killers, so we agreed that we would head over to their place for a feed of Billaroo aboard The Cray Trout… no, wait, it was a feed of cray and trout aboard Billaroo!

This post is inspired by the story of Salvador Alvarenga, a man who the world once labelled a scammer, but whose story will undoubtedly save lives in two quite different ways.

500 days ago today we took over the boat we now call home. So much water has gone under the bridge deck, it seems like that was an awfully long time ago. We have learned and grown and changed a great deal in this time. More, I expect, than we realise. Friends & family used to ask What will you do in two years when it is time to move on?; We would answer that in two years, when its time to move on, we dont know who we will be!

438 Days is the name of the book I read (cover-to-cover) this morning. I remember when the story broke in the news of a man showing up in the Marshall Islands having had drifted in a small fishing boat all the way from Mexico. At the time, I joined the chorus of sceptics, but the book gives the true account and now sits atop my list of highly recommended! This book is entertaining and inspirational, but also reveals lessons for sailors and non-sailors alike.

They say that all good things must come to an end. That’s not entirely true, but most things do end and part of our human existence is managing the raft of emotions that come in to play when we are forced to say goodbye. It is usual, I guess, to bring to mind the happiest moments and store them away for safe keeping whilst simultaneously allowing the feelings of loss, however great or small, to accompany the goodbye.
Today we say farewell to Baie De St Vincent and to the Homeless Vikings.
Whilst the optimist believes that we will surely see both again, the realist knows that this is most unlikely. So it is with a happy sad that we are now sailing South, away from Baie De St Vincent, and away from the Vikings who are now sailing North on a long journey to Indonesia.

Baie De St Vincent We came to the Baie to explore the area and find interesting places to take our guests (parents) when they come to visit next week. It’s closer to the airport than Noumea and is a large bay with numerous islands large and small that make up the Baie area.
There is also a small marina that doesn’t appear on any of our charts. With a little help from our landlubber friend (thanks Dave!) and the magic of Google, we found it and went ashore to practice our French. OK, so we actually went ashore to find out if there were markets anywhere, this is French territory, so French practice was the order of the day! For the most part the locals are good about our ignorance, and my conversations usually start with a simple apology. “Desole, je ne pa parle Francais”. One store owner in Noumea smiled broadly and promptly replied “Desole, je ne pa parle Englais”. Our exchange at the little marina called “Port Ouenghi” was similar, but we still managed to talk for a while and the proprietor looked up the number for a taxi and explained that we would need to walk for 20mins if we wanted to hitchhike, and it would take around an hour if we walked all the way to the village for vegetables… not a word of English was spoken. The owner was very kind and didn’t seem to mind our inability to speak the language.
Aside from this visit to Port Ouenghi, we also visited many other islands and bays: Ile Moro – A Giant rock with a petite beach and fascinating baby rock formations assembled like ducklings. We visited twice because we had coverage here and needed to get some Internet to pay bills… yeah, you know who you are invoice senders! :-P Ile Nduke – Where we chose to negotiate the narrow channel with hard coral on either side and we went paddle boarding after big fish in the mangroves.
Baie Uitoe – Where we did boat maintenance and swapped out our anchor chain and admired the manicured grounds of the shoreline.
Ile Ronhua – where it was gusting 25 knots and the white sand beach was overshadowed by our inability to decide where one would anchor in these conditions.
Ile Tenia – where it was still blowing like a birthday boy and we navigated big Bommies (or as the French call them, coral potatoes). We only stayed long enough for lunch and moved on to… The Lepredour Channel – where we found shelter at last. The cliffs from the nature reserve island towered above us, red and scarred and glowing as the sun set. The water was flat and we slept like drunkards.
And finally, the Baie De Mosquitos on Ile Hugon - which seems to be entirely pest free, unless you count the guy with the bonfire on the beach, or the dog on the other boat in the anchorage. Hey, as long as there are no mossies, I’m a happy little larry bird.
Oh, and as we sailed away the next morning, we remarked how the water was so flat you could ski… Thus we discovered Paddle-Sail-Ski-Boarding! Michelle mounted her paddle board and was towed along as we sailed. I sense a new sport in the making.

This morning as we sipped on our sunrise coffee, we received a message that we had been expecting, but not eagerly.
Our Finnish friends aboard “Homeless” sent a message to say farewell. We protested, and told them there was no wind to sail, and you can’t very well start a 3,000 mile trip by motoring! But they had cleared out of the country and were hoping to find breeze further out from land.
So, we hatched a plan, hoisted the sails, and plotted a course to intercept the Vikings! The Vikings were sailing North so we sailed out to the West and found them. We sailed fast below them and then came up along their windward side. “Fancy seeing you here” we beamed :- I had written a farewell poem with my second coffee and we had printed it out for them to take on their journey. We packed this into a dry bag along with a native New Caledonian flag and some tinfoil wrapped goodies (Chocolate!). We agreed that Homeless would maintain course and speed and we would maneuverer ourselves into position for the exchange. The bag, attached to a long line, was thrown between the boats and the contents were emptied. This is a bit like mum trying to pass the forgotten school lunch through the window of the bus to little Maxy as it speeds along the highway. So not something to be done without care.
After taking some photos of our little flotilla, we turned around and sailed South, happy that we had said our goodbyes in true style! Farewell Homeless Vikings, it really was too brief, and we hope we can meet again.
Farewell Baie De St Vincent, thanks for the adventures, we will see you in our memories.

Bon Voyage to the Vikings
It’s a beautiful morning with sun and calm seas All is quiet, there is barely a breeze.
We sit and ponder what today will hold Until the sat phone beeps and we are told “Dear friends we are leaving – it was too brief, but we are now heading out through reef.” No, You cant leave! We have not said goodbye! And look, up above, not a cloud in the sky There is barely a breeze and there’s too far to go You have yet three thousand miles to go! The time is not right we stand and protest But all is prepared, this is no test.
But good things must end and yachts sail away, And our Homeless Vikings will leave us today.
So we utter a prayer that you will be well That the waves will be friendly as you ride the swell And as the journey grows long, be good to each other.
May the friends that you make be close like a brother Fair winds to our friends, may the sea be kind.
May the wind always blow from somewhere behind.
So we sailed to sea and cast our eyes We intercepted their boat and spoke our goodbyes.
I took a pen to the ships log and wrote Farewell dear Vikings… in the blood red boat!