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Planning to Travel Again
Posted by Lois Joy Hofmann under Adventure, Art, Circumnavigation, Cruising, Culture, History, Sailing and Cruising, Travel, Travel and Adventure | Tags: Bucket List, Festival of Pacific Arts, FESTPAC, Maoris of New Zealand, Opening Ceremony, Palau, Palau Marina Hotel, Papua New Guinea, Rapa Nui (Easter Island), The Long Way Back, The Pacific Way, travel arrangements, traveling again, wanderlust, world circumnavigation |
FESTPAC, the Festival of Pacific Arts and Culture, was first on my Bucket List.
This week's Sunday paper tells me that there's a boom in people planning, but not making, travel arrangements. Until Covid clears, people just want to put some joy back into their lives. I'd don't blame them. As an adventurer with wanderlust in my blood, dreaming of traveling again is like giving a drink of water to a parched soul. So, Gunter and I spent part of the day making out a new bucket list.
Back in 2004, during our world circumnavigation, we attended the Festival of Pacific Arts, the world's largest celebration of indigenous Pacific Islanders. This festival is hosted every four years by a different Pacific Island nation. At that time, we'd vowed to attend another one when the country and timing suited us. This could be the year! The 2020 festival was cancelled due to Covid and rescheduled for June 18-27, 2021 in Honolulu, Hawaii. The last such event, held in Guam in 2016, drew 90,000 visitors. This year's festival will be made up of 28 nations, 3,000 delegates and could attract 100,000 visitors. I turned to Günter: "Because we have no schedule for this year, this fits perfectly. Shall we plan but not book?"
That turned out to be the applicable question. The very next day, Günter went back to the website to check on hotel reservations. The 2021 festival is now cancelled! The next one will be in 2024. FESTPAC will remain on my Bucket List but will no longer be Number One.
The following story about our experiences during 2004 FESTPAC is excerpted from The Long Way Back, the third book in my sailing/adventure trilogy:
A Taste of the Pacific Arts
Palau Marina Hotel, Koror, Palau
Even though Pacific Bliss is now berthed in Australia, I'm not quite ready to put the South Pacific islands behind me. I'd love to be able to sample even more of the culture of these islands before we sail on to Indonesia and ports beyond. So, I talk Günter into treating me to the Festival for my birthday. The Festival occurs every four years and changes venues, like the Olympics, but that's where the resemblance ends. First, it's a celebration, not a competition. And second, the way it's organized is island-style: It flows freely from one event to the other; schedules are treated as guidelines. Attending the Festival will be a grand finale to our South Pacific adventures and provide a taste of those islands we haven't visited.
We arrive at the Palau Marina Hotel after a day's layover in Guam following a flight from Cairns, Australia. In the lobby—decorated with bamboo furniture and giant shells—our taxi driver introduces us to the Japanese man who owns the hotel. We bow and talk with him while our driver translates. Smiling Filipina waitresses lead us to our table where we enjoy an arrival dinner of sushi and Asahi (Japanese beer). On leaden legs we climb the steps to our third-floor room and crash. We will have two days to rest up before the action-packed Festival begins.
The next day, we order the "morning set" for breakfast: a semi-American breakfast consisting of scrambled eggs and toast, grilled sausages cut at a slant, and finely shredded coleslaw with dressing. For lunch, we order a bento; yakitori for me and squid for Günter. The side dishes here differ from our old standbys at Ichiban's in Pacific Beach, San Diego: fish balls, poi-like sticky balls, spinach, seaweed, and other odd delicacies. Emily—one of the trio of Filipinas who works here—fans away flies as we dine on the veranda facing the peaceful harbor ringed by the tantalizing Rock Islands. Our view is a kaleidoscope of colors and patterns, the sea's sun-sparkles giving way to darkening wavelets as the wind freshens. A warm, tropical shower gently drifts past the veranda toward a perfectly domed, mushroom-shaped island, then encloses a backdrop of rounded hills in an ethereal mist reminiscent of Japanese paintings.
I turn to Günter. "Even if this is the rainy season here, I won't mind."
Mind? I will soon take back those words as I become intimate with the July-August weather slightly north of the equator!
As we leave the veranda for a sightseeing walk, a second shower appears. This time it's the real thing. A million sharp-nosed bullets dive into the sea until it's a mass of perforations, like a high-tech sound studio. We decide to retreat to our room to take our pensioners' nap, a habit perfected in Australia.
Later, we don rain jackets and slog along the pitted dead-end street to the Palau Aquarium. Outdoor pools hold sharks, a hawksbill turtle, and a variety of large game fish. The magnificent interior contains the best live displays of marine life along a coral wall that I've ever seen.
Afterwards, we walk to nearby Fish & Fins to introduce ourselves. This premier dive-and-tour operation is run by an energetic Israeli couple who sailed their sailing vessel Ocean Hunter to Palau eight years ago, fell in love with the fabulous marine life here, and—like many cruisers we've met during our voyages—decided to stay in the place that captured their hearts. They charter out their sailboat for overnight excursions to the Rock Islands, along with Ocean Hunter II, a motor dive boat. We check on snorkeling tours for later in the week.
Remarkably, the Opening Ceremony on July 22 begins without the omnipresent rain. "Alii!" begins Palau's President Tommy Remengesau, Jr. "Our home is your home; our food is your food; our island is your island; everything that we have, we want to share with you…except our spouses." I chuckle. "The Pacific Way" has evolved! In a ceremony that reminds me of the Olympics, the delegates of 24 of the 27 participating nations march or dance across the PCC Track and Field, each to their own country's traditional music. Each delegation presents gifts to the dignitaries of Palau according to the custom of these islands, stakes a box-art gift into the soil, and then performs in front of the grandstand. And what a show it is—absolutely awesome! For cruisers, I'd recommend the Festival over the Olympics anytime.
Günter and I privately declare the delegates from Papua New Guinea Best Dressed, not that they wore a lot of clothes! They sported flamboyant headdresses topping their fierce, tattooed faces with grass skirts and bare chests. (We had the good luck to talk to a few of these delegates briefly before the festivities began and noted their friendly dispositions. Later, Günter observed two of these warrior-dancers holding hands, as is their custom, as they ambled past the craft stalls.)
The Maoris of New Zealand draw gasps from attendees who have never witnessed their indigenous greeting: the warriors march forward—eyes bulging, tongues protruding, and spears thrust—while their women yell threats and twirl balls on the end of bungee-like cords.
The speeches, performances, and gift giving seem to go on forever as Günter and I shift our weight this way and that on the hard stadium seating. Then volunteers hand out box dinners of rice and fish (symbolizing a feast) to all. Yes—one box to every one of the participants: the media, the organizers, the dignitaries, and the attendees in the grandstand—all 8000 of us! Why? Because that is The Pacific Way. Altogether, the opening ceremony lasts five hours—despite a downpour during the last two—and closes with incredible fireworks, courtesy of Taiwan.
The Festival incorporates multiple simultaneous venues and activities—from symposia, movies, and plays to crafts, culinary arts, and natural history tours—forcing us to make difficult choices. We decide to make dancing our priority. Each of the 27 participating islands has entered a dance group into the competition. Taiwan, Japan, and Indonesia, as sponsors, have sent performers as well. The dancing program continues day and night at the ball field, the stadium—and when raining—the gymnasium.
After attending dance venues for days, we narrow our favorites down to half a dozen:
1. Papua New Guinea: for their flamboyant style while displaying fierce demeanors and fabulous headdresses.
2. Solomon Islands: for dancing to the most primitive rhythms while hunched over huge homemade bamboo flutes.
3. The Cook Islands: for the toughest workout: Male dancers sensuously knee-slap to a fast, pulsating drum beat, then twirl their women in perfect sync.
4. Rapa Nui (Easter Island): for the best choreographed routine—sophisticated, yet vigorous—muscled bodies moving to a hot beat.
5. Yap (one of the Federated States of Micronesia): for an astounding Las Vegas style, all-male chorus routine—ending with pelvic thrusts bouncing critically placed feathers.
6. Torres Strait, Australia: to Aborigines for enacting realistic stories from their lives; in one dance simulation of fishing, the performer falls to the floor, catches the bait with his teeth, and follows a fishing line in, writhing all the way across the stage. That performance raises the roof!
The routines of the Hawaiian and French Polynesian dancers, though the choreography was polished, lacked the drama of indigenous dancing.
From pages 28-29, The Long Way Back.
As the festivities continue, we note that music of the Polynesians, Melanesians, and Micronesians reflects a common, linked heritage while Asian Special Performances are clearly different. The songs of the Taiwanese highland tribes, for example, are sophisticated operatic arias with the typical dissonant chords of Asian music. They are 1000 years old!
This ten-day extravaganza has to be the ultimate Pacific tourist opportunity! Imagine mingling with locals from 31 islands while you're shopping in the stalls, having lunch in Koror, or walking through the college campus to attend a symposium. We get to know and love these islanders as never before. We talk with and photograph dancers before and after their stage performances. Often dancers are having their own photos taken with performers from other troupes; we join right in. By the end of the Festival, I realize that the participants themselves are beginning to "mix it up."
But it's not only the participants who are learning from each other. About 7000 people attend the Festival events here each day, including about 3000-4000 Palauans. One local says to me, "This is a tremendous once-in-a-lifetime experience. I am proud to be a Palauan; I have seen my Pacific brothers and sisters, and now I know that there is no shame in being an islander." (In Pidgin, this enlightened view is called Blong One Talk.)
An integral part of each year's Festival is the Traditional Navigation and Canoeing Program. At sunrise on opening day, news helicopters hover above as smoke rises from a fire, triton-shell trumpets blare, and war and sailing canoes pass below Palau's KB Bridge. Represented are war canoes from eight Palauan states and sailing canoes from Palau, Guam, and the Marshall Islands. Missing sailing canoes from Yap and Saipan, still underway, put a damper on opening festivities. They would show up days later. The monsoon season in Palau is not an optimal time of year for promoting the canoe program!
A few days after the official opening ceremonies, the "scheduled" races are held, although not one is even close to the time on the printed schedule. Günter and I take a taxi to the Friendship Bridge near the stated finish line for the kabekl (war canoe) race. We stand on the concrete jetty, cameras in hand, on increasingly wobbly knees. Then we spread our rain jackets on the concrete. And we sit. And sit. After about two hours, an announcer explains the rules for the two heats to be held by the canoes, to be followed by the play-off. Then we sit and wait again. About a half hour later, the announcer states that, due to the delay, there will be no final race. They will hold only the 1000-meter and a 500-meter. We wait even longer.
Nearby, a few ladies dressed in red and white—with towels over their heads to protect them from the sun—are cheering for the local Ngiwal State of Palau. I decide to follow their example. I stand and cheer, then sit and wait…and wait. Another half hour creeps by and finally the race begins. Everyone stands to cheer—this time for real. The ladies frantically wave their towels like flags. The red team wins. In the 500-meter, Koror wins.
All this waiting gives me the opportunity to talk with islanders. One stocky man in a red T-shirt that must be XXL explains how the Festival has spurred the sport of canoeing. "We've had races here before, but with motorboats," he says. "Our boys didn't know how to race canoes. You should have seen them only a few months ago. They couldn't even paddle!"
Come to think of it, I haven't seen any sailboats in the harbors except those used for excursions. "Don't they sail either?" I ask.
"No, ancient Palauans navigated by the stars and all," he says, "but then they didn't need to sail to other islands anymore. We have everything we need here. And sadly, the tradition was not handed down."
Carrying on the island traditions and culture is exactly what the Festival aims to do. Hoping to learn how to navigate by the stars, we attend the Traditional Navigation symposium the next morning. Unfortunately, much of the discussion centers on intellectual property issues—how to prevent the usurping of traditional skills and knowledge by the West—as if we need those skills with the advent of GPS! Then the discussion turns toward how to get funding for the very program that some of the participants don't want to share. The locals seem oblivious to the contradiction.
The Sailing Canoe Raceis scheduled for 1:00. This time, we take a taxi to where the canoes actually are, thinking that we will cleverly position ourselves at the start rather than at the finish line. By then, we have begun to understand "island time." So, Günter keeps our cab while I venture toward the group by the canoes, potential racers who are preparing to barbeque their lunch.
"When do you expect the race to begin?"
"At one o'clock," one of the racers responds.
"But it's one-thirty now." I point to my watch.
"I think the race is actually at four o'clock," another canoeist volunteers.
"No, the program says that is the time for awarding of the prizes. Do you have a program?"
"Hold the cab! We're leaving!" I call to Günter.
Later, we hear that the races did occur that day—at 4:30 p.m. By then, two teams had decided not to race. Guam, Yap, and Palau—although mismatched—managed to paddle to the finish line against the wind and current under the bridge.
From pages 26-27 of The Long Way Back.
Festival activities keep us busy for the next few days. We enjoy hanging around Festival Village where we purchase souvenirs from various countries' booths and sample their native food. We walk through the thatched-roof Pavilion to view tattooists, carvers, and weavers at work. One project, called MAT, calls for each participant country to weave a 2×2-foot square that will eventually be combined into one majestic Quilt of the Islands, to be displayed at the Palau National Museum. This Museum will also display a carved log with each country's section, and one large storyboard representative of all carvers' combined efforts. We view architectural displays and attend poetry readings, instrumentals, and plays. In a clever New Zealand stage play, two actresses recount the history of the Maoris from the first sighting of the white man.
During the final days of the Festival, the rains arrive to stay. A typhoon is moving toward Japan; all of Micronesia is drenched in the resulting weather system. The closing ceremony is moved to the college gymnasium. To make space, the country delegations sit on the wooden floor in the center. Even so, the grandstands are overloaded. Many Palauans are left standing outside holding umbrellas. I sympathize with this tiny country of 20,000 that has valiantly tried its best to be the perfect hosts to 4,000 visitors. But I'm proud of them as well. I'm touched by the warmth of the speeches and by the sincere effort to again feed the crowd in keeping with The Pacific Way.
"In today's strife-torn world," concludes Festival Host President Remengesau, "it is uplifting that so many of us have come together to celebrate the value and beauty of our heritage."
May these Festivals continue to uplift, to teach, to inspire, and to celebrate the heritage of the islands. Attending the 9th Festival of the Pacific Arts was a birthday gift that I will cherish forever.
Other SailorsTales blogs about the South Pacific are:
Breaking Bread with the Locals
The Pacific Puddle Jump 10-Year Reunion
Reconnecting with Crew
Pacific Bliss Goes Snorkeling
The Largest Clams in the World
Visiting Levuka, Fiji's Ancient Capital, during our World Circumnavigation
About the Author: Lois and Günter Hofmann lived their dream by having a 43-foot ocean-going catamaran built for them in the south of France and sailing around the world. Learn more about their travel adventures by reading Lois's award winning nautical adventure trilogy. Read more about Lois and her adventures at her website and stay in touch with Lois by liking her Facebook page. Lois's books can be purchased on Amazon.
Proteas for the Holidays from The Land Down Under
Posted by Lois Joy Hofmann under Adventure, Ancestry, Christmas, Circumnavigation, flowers, Geography, Life, Travel, Travel and Adventure | Tags: Aussies, Australia, Blue Mountains, caravan, Govetts Leap, Medlow Bath, Mount Tomah Botanical Gardens, Proteas, Sydney's Royal Botanic Garden, The Land Down Under |
During our world circumnavigation, Gunter and I loved Australia and the Aussies so much that we decided to spend another year in The Land Down Under. We stored our catamaran Pacific Bliss on the hard in Mackay, Queensland and took the tilt train south to Sydney. From there, we rented a drive-yourself caravan (camper) to tour inland through the Blue Mountains, Cowra, Canberra, and back to Sydney via the sea route. Although fall was turning to winter throughout the Northern Hemisphere, in Australia we were enjoying the spring-to-summer transition. My favorite holiday flowers for arranging are the red tropicals: ginger, anthurium, and proteas. Imagine my delight seeing fields of such flowers on display at nature preserves!
Field of Proteas
Following are excerpts from my journal:
Touring Australia's Blue Mountains
Katuomba Falls Caravan Park. Blackheath Caravan Park. Destinations roll off our tongues as the landscape passes by. We experience two days of dreary skies and depressing, intermittent rain, which makes our road trip anti-climactic after the sunny skies and excitement of Sydney. But on the third day, the weather clears and an ethereal, winter-pale sun peeks over the evergreened landscape before it descends below the foothills and treetops. It leaves a soft brush of amber on the clouds. It's amazing how the van seems cozier, less claustrophobic, when there's a hint of sun.
Gorgeous, white parrot-like birds with yellow crests flit from tree to tree as we enjoy our sundowners. Ducks waddle toward the van while we throw out tidbits. I take a twilight walk up a hillside and stumble upon one lone rhododendron bush; the rest will bloom next month. November 1 is the beginning of the Rhododendron Festival here in Blackheath.
Called "Australia's most accessible wilderness," the heralded Blue Mountains looked like a collection of Sydney suburbs on a ridge of a cut-out valley—eroded highlands with valleys below. "These are certainly not mountains like our western Rockies," Gunter grumbled. But as we drove further, he changed his tune. Narrow river gorges wound through the lower mountains. As we rose in elevation, vistas opened to yawning canyons. Mountain streams tumbled over escarpments, falling to thick, tangled vegetation.
Eucalyptus against limestone
Blue Mountains Overlook
Sydneysiders are fortunate to have such a national treasure within a few hours' drive. A brochure we'd picked up in Sydney stated: "What a better way to uplift the soul than a weekend of World Heritage Wilderness!" This heritage area, made up of eight nature reserves, was established in 2000. It contains 400 animal species, more than one-third of Australia's bird species, 1,300 plant species, and 4,000 species of moths and butterflies.
For the first twenty-five years of European occupation, the Blue Mountains defied settlers' quest to expand west of Sydney. Expeditions were turned back by impenetrable undergrowth, wandering gorges, and steep canyon walls. Finally in 1813, three men, Gregory Blaxland, William Wentworth, and William Lawson, broke through after eighteen miserable days. They were rewarded with a view from the top of Mount York never seen by Europeans. Grassy plains stretched as far as their eyes could see—plains, they believed, that could support a continent of millions. During the next two years, the Great Western Highway was cut through these mountains and western migration began.
Morning brings a bright sun and clear blue skies. We are eager to begin the trip to the top of the pass. From Blackheath, we'll backtrack to Medlow Bath, then double back and proceed on to Bell, drive along the north canyon rim to Mount Tomah, then double back again to Lithgow, finally proceeding on to our reserved cabin near Lake Lyell. It is a fine, crisp day for touring but the drive is long and tortuous. The two-lane route—the same one followed by those early explorers—is narrow with tight turns and sheer drops. In most places, the ridge is too narrow for turnouts, look-outs, and rest stops.
Gunter is an experienced mountain driver; even so, this route requires intense focus.
At Medlow Bath, we stop to see the Grand Hotel, a famous meeting place for world dignitaries. Melba, a famous Australian opera star, sung here. Other celebrities have taken advantage of the hotel's hydra baths for more than a century. While we stroll through the old hotel, we note that the place still has a regal flair: a smart-suited and suitably aloof male receptionist hands us a typed information sheet about the hotel. We enjoy a cappuccino on the deck with a wonderful mountain view and then we're off to the next stop: Govett's Leap.
We joke about the sign saying 15-Minute Walk to Bridal Falls. "It doesn't say how long the return is!" I warn. "But let's go anyway. We need a little pensioner's walk."
We're back at the parking area in one and quarter hours. We did take our time, though, past the stepping blocks over the river to the other side. The morning sun brightened the deep, verdant valley. The river was wonderful, cascading over rocks banked with yellow blooming acacia, rust-colored banksias (bottlebrush), and delicate yellow, white, and blue mountain flowers. Bridal Veil Falls, a tantalizing stream of water and fine mist overhanging a rock garden of moss and ferns, was well worth it. By the time we returned, huffing and puffing up all those steps, lazy sheep-clouds had drifted in. They stayed with us for the remainder of the day, providing cooling interludes.
Gunter on the path to Bridal Falls
Bottle Brush Plant
Our next stop is Evans Point. We amble over to a must-see lookout over pulpit rock. Afterwards, Gunter re-parks the van so the view from the rear window has the valley view. This is when driving a campervan pays off! We enjoy our smoko of chicken breast, dressing, and whole wheat bread.
Our next stop is Mount Victoria. Gunter buys a few used paperbacks from a quaint, old shop attached to a house that has been in the owner's family since the early 1900s. Across the street stands the historic Victoria and Albert Guesthouse and Restaurant, where dining on the wooden, green-railed veranda has been a tradition for over 100 years. The street is lined with blooming pink and white ornamental and fruit trees. What a wonderful time of year to tour the Blue Mountains!
From the GWH (Great Western Highway) the Darling Causeway links Mount Victoria to Bells Road, which takes us toward Mount Tomah. We continue on to the Mount Tomah Botanical Gardens (called Australia's Coolest Botanic Gardens) developed by Sydney's Royal Botanic Garden. Here, at 1000 meters above sea level, many plants not suited to Sydney's climate can be grown successfully.
I've fallen in love with these gardens—and especially with the collection of the largest proteas I've ever seen. Their wide-open pink blooms remind me of sunflowers backlit against a glowing sunset. The pond's rock garden, with shimmering lime-colored reeds complementing its gray rocks, is the perfect setting for contemplation and meditation. The blue haze from the mountains turns this place into a heavenly delight.
Other SailorsTales blogs about Australia are:
Climbing the Coat Hanger
The Challenge of Writing about Australia
Pavlova from Heaven? No, Australia
Visiting Levuka, Fiji's Ancient Capital, during our World Circumnavigation.
Posted by Lois Joy Hofmann under Adventure, Circumnavigation, Cruising, Geography, Sailing, Sailing and Cruising, Travel, Travel and Adventure, Uncategorized | Tags: ancient capital, Cakobau, Fiji, go with the wind, Levuka, Lovoni, Lovoni Highlands Tour, Ovalau Holiday Resort, Pacific Bliss, Planter's Club, Polynesian Paralysis, sailing crew, Savusavu, South Pacific, The Royal Hotel, world circumnavigation |
This the last in the series about sailing Fiji with a new crew, Lydia and Helmut. The stories in the series are excerpted from Sailing the South Pacific, Chapter 10.
Pacific Bliss docks in Levuka, Fiji
Levuka—Fiji's Ancient Capital
When I record the passage from Leleuvia in the logbook, I realize what day it is: Friday the thirteenth. No wonder it was one wild ride! Thankfully, the passage was short and we're here, although Levuka is on a lee shore, the windward side of the island.
This morning at 1100, the sun appeared just in time to make the passage. It continued to shine while we navigated the Moturiki Channel, then disappeared for good as we sailed up the east coast of Ovalau to Levuka. We experienced 20-knot winds all the way, with occasional gusts to 25. The waves were 3 meters high. One of the huge waves splashed into the cockpit, drenching Helmut.
Lydia did not have a good passage. She spent it lying on her stomach on the cockpit bench, queasy and frightened. These were the highest waves she had experienced because, until now, we had been protected by Fiji's reefs.
After a well-deserved siesta, the four of us dinghy to the wharf. We walk the length of the town until dusk. We pass by groups of women and children in flowery frocks chatting underneath shade trees lining the seaside promenade. From the sidewalk, we can see Pacific Bliss bobbing in the background. It dawns on us that anyone on Main Street can see her. They all know who we are. Tourists are rare in Levuka.
Pacific Bliss, the only boat at the dock
Main Street, Levuka, Fiji
We pass three lively pool halls—that's where the men and boys hang out. We amble into the expansive lobby and past the charming curved bar of The Royal Hotel, the oldest continuously run hotel in the South Pacific. No one knows when it was built, but records show that this historic building has existed at least since the early 1860s. Reportedly, ship's masters, plantation owners, and even the notorious blackbirder, Bully Hayes, frequented this hotel.
A plaque provides the history: In the 1830s, Levuka had been a small whaling and beachcomber settlement. It was virtually lawless; ships followed a trail of empty gin bottles through the passage into port, and the town was a haven for escaped convicts, ship jumpers, debtors, and other ne'er-do- wells. The Royal was the finest place in town and the place to stay. The front rooms faced the sea, so that the captains could keep an eye on their anchored vessels, just as we look out at ours now. A crow's nest still stands atop the hotel's top floor.
The next day, after a night as bumpy as if we'd been on a miserable passage, we venture to Ovalau Holiday Resort, a 3-kilometer taxi ride over rutty blacktop roads. We skirt around potholes and gulleys washed out by last night's high tide at full moon. In many areas, the high seas had taken sections of the road out to sea and left debris behind.
This is the same full moon and strong surf that battered Pacific Bliss. No wonder I couldn't sleep! God has, yet again, sent His guardian angel to watch over us.
The casual resort contains about a half-dozen bures. We have chicken curry with rotis, pepper steak with rice; and a family-size coleslaw salad. The food is wonderful—especially because we don't have to cook on board with the rain pelting the cabin roof. We talk about what we've seen in Levuka so far.
"It's the land time forgot," says Günter.
"It's a wild west tumbleweed town transposed to the Pacific," says Lydia.
"Don't forget the fish factory," adds Helmut. "PATCO employs 1000 of the 1800 people who live here."
We call for a taxi back. The rain continues into the night.
The new day begins with more rain. We've signed up for Epi's Lovoni Highlands Tour. We decide to take it despite the rain. Back on Main Street, we pile into the canvas-covered back of a truck, and off we go, bumping and slip-sliding along the muddy roads to the village of Lovoni, built on the crater of the extinct volcano at the island's center. At the outskirts of the village, we pick up a well-known tour guide, Epi Bole.
Lovoni Village, built on the crater of an extinct volcano
Epi leads us past tiny homes made of western-style weatherboard. At the community hut, he tells stories of his ancestors who first settled this land. The villagers of Lovoni, he tells us, are a proud people. They are descendants of the strongest tribe in Fiji, the Cakobau, who were never defeated. In fact, they showed their displeasure with the European settlement of Levuka by burning it down three times. Men from Lovoni demonstrate their superiority by wearing hats in other villages, including in the chiefly village of Ba.
From what Epi tells us, the political climate in Fiji is depressing, and the future of the sugar industry does not look good. Epi has the typical Fijian opinions on land ownership (it should all belong to the Fijians; he is pleased that even the former Crown land is being returned) and on Indians (the Queen should have taken them all back when Fiji became independent).
"Don't the Fijians need the Indians?" Günter ventures. "We see them working the land owned by the Fijians…we see them running the stores, and even most of the tourist operations. Seems like a symbiotic relationship to me."
Epi nods slowly. "That's true," he admits. "Lots of Indians left Fiji during the 2000 coup—mostly the professionals—doctors, lawyers, businessmen."
How can they reconcile the two positions? They want the Indians gone, yet they like them to do all the work they don't want to do. They're not realists, they're dreamers. Too much kava in the blood?
"Do the people here want large families?" Lydia asks.
"Yes, they want as many children as possible," Epi replies.
I know that the Indians, when asked, will respond similarly. Both ethnic groups want to increase their own numbers—this without regard for the quality of their children's lives, the cost of their education, or the hazards of pregnancy.
We watch a relative of Epi making our lunch on a one-burner hotplate in the corner. Two little boys, two and four, hang on her sulu. Another child is clearly on the way. "Where will she deliver?" Lydia asks.
Epi explains, "She will deliver in Suva. The Levuka hospital lost five babies in last month. No ultrasound here. No Cesarean either."
I imagine life in Lovoni Village. A one-room, weatherboard house. Hotplate in the corner. Washing dishes outside from water out of a bare pipe. Two beds at the edges of the mat-covered room, one for the children, the other for the parents.
No wonder the educated young people go to Auckland to find work and dream of going to America.
Back in Levuka, I ask to be let out of the truck at the ATM on Main Street. After I nonchalantly insert my credit card and pull out a pile of Fijian $20 bills, I turn to see a group of Fijian teenagers close behind me. Curious, they want to see how this new money dispenser works. Later, I would read the headline in this morning's paper: "Westpac launches Ovalau's first ATM." The article explains how this is "launching the old capital into the electronic banking age." Obviously, this ATM has quickly become the pride of the town!
On Tuesday the port captain is finally on duty after his Monday holiday. We check in and check out on the same day. We're ready. It has been a very long weekend under mostly rainy skies. We all walk into town with our bags to provision. Then next morning, we turn Pacific Bliss around in the small wharf, and we're on our way. We look back to see the entire island of Ovalau shrouded in gloomy, low-lying clouds. We can't even make out the highlands in the center. No wonder they changed Fiji's capital!
Helmut, Lydia and Gunter at Levuka, Fiji–Ports Authority
Savusavu, Fiji. The sailing was great during our sail to Vanua Levu, Fiji's second largest island. Sleepy Savusavu, located on the peninsula that divides Savusavu Bay from the Koro Sea, is Vanua Levu's second largest town. Because the town is a Port of Entry and a natural cyclone hole, it is a popular gathering spot for cruisers, and we met many of them. It was an ideal place for Helmut and Lydia to end their sail with us.
After docking, the couple packed while Gunter and I found our way to the Planter's Club. In operation for 46 years, the Planter's Club was a revelation of how colonial life in Fiji must have been. We entered a compound with a massive, colonial-style building in the back, surrounded by a white porch and picket fence. To the right, we saw a small shed with a sign, "No alcohol allowed." I wonder whether that is still the case today. Through the open door we could see men drinking kava. To the left, we saw two lawn bowling fields, side by side. Customers with cocktails line the porch, loudly cheering on the teams.
We went inside the building and ordered rums and cokes. Everyone was friendly. All the "planters" we met were Fijian—the best-dressed and most cosmopolitan Fijians we had ever seen! No fraying 1950s-style muumuu dresses for these women: I noticed that one wore a black silk top with black-and-white vertically striped pantaloons. Her hair was straight, cropped short, and swept behind the ears. Smart! Günter couldn't help but notice how a full-length sarong wrapped another lady's curvaceous figure! She wore a modern stretch lace top cropped at the waist. The men wore long pants or pressed jeans and bula shirts with short sleeves. There were no T-shirts in sight except among the few white yachties who were there, like us, to observe.
Planters Club, Savusavu, Fiji
We were happy to see such apparently well-to-do Fijians and wanted to learn more about the different world of Savusavu. But we needed to go back to Pacific Bliss to spend our last night with our crew.
Saturday went by in a flash with usual frenzy of final packing and goodbyes. Helmut and Lydia continued their own adventure in Australia before returning home to Germany. As we always do, Günter and I had mixed feelings about crew leaving. "On one hand," I wrote in my journal, "the enthusiasm, optimism, and energy of youth has left Pacific Bliss. We feel sort of blah and alone now. On the other hand, we enjoy our solitude. Schedule becomes less important, as does wearing clothes on board! And now we will have the opportunity to explore this island and others at our leisure. We will cook only when we're hungry—much easier on our waistlines."
Churchgoers line up at the storefront on Main Street. Their church, The Lighthouse, is on the second floor.Weighing options and making decisions. Gunter and I spent a week in Savusavu, weighing options. Advice from cruisers did not impart confidence: "This is a rather tricky triangle," one cruiser warned. "The seas are angry there…and the wind is often gusty and unpredictable." Clearly, we were afflicted with the local disease, Polynesian Paralysis. We prayed about whether or not to sail to Fiji's remote Lau Group. We prayed with Darren, the minister of the Lighthouse Church. "Do you know going west is scriptural?" Darren asked. "The Tabernacle always faced east to west. First the entry, the sacrifice, the washing area, then the holy of holies. Also, all major revivals have proceeded east to west." Perhaps that says something about God's will for our voyage, I thought. We decided to leave it all in God's hands.
From then on, events seemed to take over. Instead of attempting to circumnavigate the island of Viti Levu, Fiji, we decided to take the northern route back. We would reverse-navigate through those northern reefs, proceed to Lautoka, make repairs in Denarau, rest in Musket Cove until we had a weather window, then take off with the trades, going westward with the wind toward Vanuatu. But first, we would leave our yacht safely in Savusavu and travel to other destinations in Fiji. We would take a ferry to Taveuni, Fiji's Garden Island. And then we would to fly to Suva, Fiji's modern capital, and eastward to the Lau Group.
Those continuing adventures are recounted in the rest of Chapter 10 of Sailing the South Pacific.
In case you've missed them, other blogs in this Fiji Adventures series are: Reconnecting with Crew, Reef Encounters of the Worst Kind: Attempting to Circumnavigate Fiji, Part II, Pacific Bliss Goes Snorkeling, and The Largest Clams in the World.
Posted by Lois Joy Hofmann under Adventure, Circumnavigation, Cruising, Fishing, nature, Sailing, Sailing and Cruising, Travel, Travel and Adventure, Uncategorized, Yachties | Tags: adventures., expect the unexpected, Fiji, giant clam, Makogai Island, research station, road less traveled, Sailing, sea life, Tridacna gigas |
Giant Clam.
Often when traveling—whether on sea or land—I've grown accustomed to taking the road less traveled and coming across unexpected delights. During our Fiji adventures with Lydia and Helmut as crew, we took a sailing detour to visit a little-known research station located on a small Fijian island. We heard about these magnificent clams from another cruiser and decided to check it out for ourselves. We were not disappointed! Here's an excerpt from pages 230-231 of Sailing the South Pacific:
Makogai Island, Fiji
0630: Roosters crowing. Birds gossiping. Fish splashing. What an idyllic morning! As I sit in the cockpit, the only sound of civilization is the generator from the research station located farther into the bay. We will visit that facility today. The coffee pot whistles. As I turn to the galley, I notice fountains of cumulus clouds at each of the bay's entrances. Palms fringe the mountain tops, rimming the dawn. It is the type of morning I love.
Makogai is one of these rare jewels that few know about. It's not listed in the Lonely Planet. The only way to get here is to sail as we did or hitch a passage on boats visiting the government aqua-culture operation and sheep station. This island, transferred over to
Suva in 1979, has a history as a leper colony. Now it's a spawning area for an exotic species of giant clams called Tridacna gigas.
Our snorkel over the reefs is perfect. The spawning beds are specially marked. The giant clams bred here are the largest I have ever seen—humongous mollusks with lips of cobalt blue, emerald green, and mottled brown. They are set in corals covering every color of the spectrum. Fan coral in shades of amber and taupe wave at me while iridescent reef fish dart in and out of the coral. A huge sea slug that looks like a fat crooked finger lazily makes its way over the sandy sea floor. What a wonderful day! We enjoy a glorious sunset, sipping cold white wine in the cockpit while we admire the western sky at the opening to Dalice Bay. I feast my eyes while Lydia excitedly snaps one photo after another.
The next morning, we snorkel through the two reef gardens again before heading for the fishery. We learn that the fishery plants hundreds of baby clams along the reefs throughout Fiji and exports some to Tonga and the Solomons.
A supervisor there gives us a tour of the giant clam incubation tanks. He tells us that this species are the largest of the bivalve mollusks. In ten years they can be measured end to end with outstretched arms. They have a 100-year lifespan and can weigh up to 500 pounds. With their shells wide open, they bask in sunlight so the symbiotic algae living with them can produce their food. Interestingly, hundreds of tiny eyes dot their skin, allowing them to sense sudden changes in their environment. The shells then close defensively. The man says that the adult clams here are incapable of slamming their shells completely shut because of their massive bulk. Still, no one volunteers to put that to a test with an arm or foot!
In case you've missed them, other blogs in this Fiji Adventures series are: Reconnecting with Crew, Reef Encounters of the Worst Kind: Attempting to Circumnavigate Fiji, Part II and Pacific Bliss Goes Snorkeling.
Reef Encounters of the Worst Kind: Attempting to Circumnavigate Fiji, Part II
Posted by Lois Joy Hofmann under Adventure, Circumnavigation, Cruising, Sailing, Sailing and Cruising, Travel, Travel and Adventure | Tags: Adventure, Catamaran, circumnavigate, crew, Ellington Wharf, Fiji, Nananu–I–Cake Anchorage, navigating reefs, Pacific Bliss, reconnecting, Sailing, Sailing the South Pacific, Viti Levu |
Lydia and Helmut on Pacific Bliss, Fiji, 2003
The adventure continues. In the last blog, we left the four of us—Lydia, Helmut, Gunter and me—setting anchor alarms while we tried to sleep. Strong winds were battering our catamaran Pacific Bliss in the Tomba Naloma anchorage in Viti Levu, Fiji. This next section, excerpted from pages 224-226 of Sailing the South Pacific, continues our effort to navigate the reef-strewn northern side of Fiji's largest island. Our goal: to sail to Fiji's ancient capital, Levuka.
"One wouldn't know by the peacefulness of this morning that this is the bay that I had grown to hate only yesterday. From the cockpit, I watch seabirds soar over still waters; they fly by me in pairs. Golden light breaks through low lying clouds hugging the bay. Hills hug us on three sides, purple-gray, silent, protecting. Yes, yesterday I wanted out of here, never to return.
How quickly and easily the sea changes its face! One minute brooding, the next minute inviting. One minute savage and threatening, the next, calm and pristine. Like she is right now.
Will this be yet another cruising day that points out our vulnerability out here, how simple mistakes can lead to dramatic and immediate consequences?
This morning, Pacific Bliss faces west, pushed by a gentle SSW Force 2, 7-knot breeze. The hills brighten as the sea wrinkles.
How long before the high trade winds roar in from the southeast again, turning the sea into a monster?"
It didn't take long for us to run into problems again. We turned Pacific Bliss to follow the path on the electronic chart, just as we had the day before. But we were in for a surprise. There was no path between the reef and the marker! From that point on, we knew that we could no longer rely on the reefs being marked. All alone out there on the Northern Passage, we couldn't afford to take chances, so we crept along until dusk.
"With a 20-knot wind, we're afraid of dragging anchor. We head for a big bay instead and set the anchor with 140 feet of chain, in 41 feet at low tide. It's deeper than we'd like and not very sheltered, but at least we won't swing into anything.
Lydia and I fire up the breadmaker to bake wheat berry bread while Helmut continues to fish. Toward dusk, he hauls in a trevella. We gorge on warm bread while the fish marinates, then fry potatoes and plantains. The high wind gusts cool the salon, so we sip on hot Good Earth tea spiked with rum.
Life isn't so bad after all!
As we let down our guard and begin a leisurely dinner in the salon, the day falls apart. It begins slowly— this falling apart—as one event careens into the next.
First, Günter notices that the anchor alarm shows that the boat has moved 500 feet. "Can't be!" His face pales. "Must be a mistake—it didn't go off. Helmut, let's check our calculations."
The computer shows that we have drifted halfway into the bay! We quickly clear our half-eaten dinner. I tell everyone to shut the hatches, in case we end up on a reef today, after all. Then Günter calls us all into the cockpit for instructions.
The night is pitch black.
"Lois, go to the nav station. Follow our MaxSea track back to our original anchoring location. I'll just motor slowly. Helmut and Lydia, after we pull anchor, you'll use the flashlight and spotlight to warn us when we're near shore."
Pulling anchor is difficult now with the stripper broken, but our new crew makes fast work of it. Günter inches toward shore while I direct our autopilot carefully, using plus or minus one degree, until we are a few boat lengths from our original anchoring spot. Fortunately the wind has died, and the anchor sets easily.
I never want to see this Nananu–I–Cake Anchorage again. Our crew wanted a learning experience; well, they're certainly getting it."
June 4:
"…As the day drones on, the strong wind returns. It whistles through the rigging, swinging our little home around as she pulls tight on her two anchor chains. We all know that it's a given that we stay here until the weather cooperates.
While the men focus on boat maintenance, Lydia and I bake up a storm, creatively using ingredients we have on board. We realize that we will need to provision soon. But how?
We jump into the bay to cool off after cooking. The current races so fast between the hulls that I dare not let go of the swim ladder. The dinghy goes wild, bouncing on the waves.
The wind blows so hard that we have our sundowners inside. Lydia compares her expectations with how she feels about sailing now. "I thought we'd be sitting outside, in a calm anchorage, sipping piña coladas in the sunset," she says, discouraged.
"Did you expect to have wind for sailing?" I ask.
"Of course. I dreamt about sails billowing in the wind, pulling us along."
"But then when you wanted to sip those piña coladas, the wind would suddenly disappear?"
"I didn't think of that…in fact, now I wonder whether I should buy into Helmut's dream of sailing around the world."
The next day, the bay is still too rough to deploy Petit Bliss, so we order a pick-up from Safari Lodge nearby. Günter opts to stay with the boat.
The three of us take off in the skiff. It turns toward Ellington Wharf, where we receive the brunt of the east wind racing through the channel. The spray comes over the high sides of the launch. Helmut's T-shirt is sopping, but he laughs.
"It's good I brought a spare," he shouts over the shrieking wind.
When the launch stops at Ellington Wharf, I'm amazed. I cannot imagine Pacific Bliss—or any large boat for that matter—pulling up to this dilapidated structure. We disembark. On the wharf, angry brown froth smashes against the jetty. Palms bend over in pain.
Wind-dried and salty, we hike toward the bus stop. After a mile or so, an Indian cane farmer with thick black hair and dusty clothes offers us a lift. We pass field after field of sugar cane.
He drops us off at the farmer's market. What a scene! Colorful blankets cover the grass. Fijian mothers hold the babies and toddlers, while older children play games together in the shade trees across from the market. Under the shade of a banyan tree, men drink kava and gossip. The produce is laid out in mounds. A mound of limes: $1 Fijian. A mound of oranges: $1. A bunch of bok choy: $1. One green papaya: $1. Soon our canvas shopping bags are full, with a $1 bunch of bananas topping it off.
"Bula!" Women wearing colorful muumuus greet us with wide smiles. They even smile when we don't buy from them. They do not cajole, like Indian vendors.
We find three grocery stores containing everything else we need, including a Fiji Times and lots of chocolate to placate Günter. After catching a taxi back to the wharf, it's another wet ride back to Pacific Bliss, where the high winds have continued unabated.
Finally the next day the sun shines, and the wind decreases enough that we dare to leave the bay. We navigate the reefs past Ellington Wharf and through the narrow Navelau passage to Viti Levu Bay. The process is horrendously slow. Our disturbingly inaccurate electronic chart shows us going over land in many places. We are thankful to have sharp lookouts on board. By the time we anchor twice in the bay, we are all tense and tired.
The following day, we motor for five hours and are forced to pull in at 1315. The skies turn dark and foreboding; ominous clouds line the entire horizon. Navigating through the reefs had been tricky with full sun; no way do we want to take this route under an overcast sky. We anchor in a muddy area south of the Natori Ferry Terminal. Then we set a second anchor as well. Appropriately, Günter plays Pink Floyd's Dark Side of the Moon, one of his favorites.
We come topsides in the morning, overjoyed to see a flotilla of 12 sailboats passing by the bay's outer limits. This makes navigation easier; we'll be following them. Even so, navigation is extremely tricky. By the time we anchor again, I collapse into my berth while Günter takes Lydia and Helmut to a nearby reef to fish and snorkel. I'll have my chance to snorkel in Leleuvia, a small sandy island that is touted as a backpackers' paradise."
Little did I know then that Pacific Bliss would decide to go snorkeling herself! That story is coming up next. And in the event you didn't read Part 1 of this Fiji series, you can access that link here.
Posted by Lois Joy Hofmann under Adventure, Circumnavigation, Cruising, Culture, Family, Family and Heritage, Geneaology, Life, Sailing, Sailing and Cruising, Travel, Travel and Adventure | Tags: Adventure, Catamaran, circumnavigating the world, crew, Denarau Marina, Fiji, living your dream, Pacific Bliss, reconnecting, reefs, Sailing, Sailing the South Pacific, Vitago Bay, Viti Levu |
Reef Encounters of the Worst Kind: Attempting to Circumnavigate Fiji
This past weekend brought a pleasant surprise: Gunter and I reconnected with a crew we'd had on board our catamaran Pacific Bliss when sailing in the Fiji Islands during the spring of 2003, seventeen years ago. Here's how I described this couple in my book, Sailing the South Pacific:
Denarau Marina, Viti Levu, Fiji, May 30
Lydia and Helmut Dueck are an adventurous German couple who decided to backpack around the world before they marry and have children. We first met them through our website. Helmut's dream has always been to sail the world when he retires. He is a sailor, but Lydia, his fiancé, has never been on a sailboat. Crewing is an opportunity to find out whether his dream will work for them. Only in their twenties, they are wisely thinking ahead!
…Lydia is a pert, fun-loving blonde. Helmut is dark-haired and serious, yet I suspect that he can be fun, too.
We had arranged for a taxi to meet the couple at the Nadi airport and to take them directly to Pacific Bliss. They appear to be relieved to see a berth freshly made up for them and towels and washcloths in their own port head. Frugal backpackers, they find Pacific Bliss luxurious. We find them to be a refreshing, happy couple and look forward to spending time with them.
Lydia and Helmut on Pacific Bliss, Fiji
Sunset in Denarau, Fiji
Since that introduction to the cruising life, Lydia and Helmut married and succeeded in their professions, Lydia as a midwife and Helmut as a businessman and entrepreneur. They raised four children, lived in various countries—including Germany and China—all the while holding onto their dream of sailing around the world. They never forgot their adventures sailing Pacific Bliss in Fiji, where they experienced the highs and lows of the cruising life.
Here's a taste of what they experienced:
We arrive in Vitago Bay and anchor easily with our new crew working in unison…After a delicious dinner, we all go into the cockpit to watch the stars light the sky with no city lights to interfere. Helmut and Lydia are in their element. They are truly amazed by it all…
Following that high, we're rounding the northwest point of Viti Levu during our attempt to circumnavigate that island. This is what happens next:
We are all on lookout now as we navigate through the reefs…To make the turns, I take the nav station inside, Gunter takes the helm, Lydia takes the pulpit seat using our powerful binoculars, and Helmut takes the other pulpit seat…Strong gusts hit as we slowly approach Tomba Naloma, our anchorage. We know that this bay is full of reefs close to shore, but because it's not low tide, we can't see them. We motor in slowly. I take up my position at the bow, with the anchor windlass control.
"Don't worry," Gunter says. "I'll bring you right to the anchor symbol we put on MaxSea. 30 feet, 28 feet, 26 feet…we should be there in five minutes."
We creep cautiously. The wave heights gradually decrease but the wind keeps blowing.
"24 feet. Drop anchor," Gunter commands.
I drop but the wind blows us backward rapidly. The windlass won't release the anchor chain as fast as the wind is pushing us back. Then all of a sudden, the anchor catches and jerks the boat.
"Let out more chain," Gunter shouts from the helm. "I'm letting it out as fast as I can," I shout from bow back into the wind. "I've got 120 feet out and she's still pulling." Gunter comes forward. "Let's deploy the bridle with a short leash this time. Let out some more."
He sets the bridle, but now the entire chain has payed out. At the anchor locker, I can see the rope, all the way to the bitter end. I try to bring some back by reversing the windlass control. The rope binds and bends the chain stripper (the device that pulls the chain from the wheel and lets it fall, pulled by its own weight, into the chain locker.) Helmut helps me straighten out the mess.
Now we have a "broken boat" again. Until it's fixed, we'll have to haul anchor hand over hand, which is not only physically strenuous but can also be dangerous when timing is critical. We brainstorm the next port where it can be fixed—Tonga?
We could have scrapped this daring venture and headed back to Denarau but to our crew's credit, they agreed to continue on with our plans. We set anchor alarms that night and took turns standing watch as 25-30 knot winds howled through the rigging.
Helmut catches a huge Trevella along the coast of Viti Levu, Fiji
This was only the beginning of this couple's adventures on Pacific Bliss. We took a launch from Ellington's Wharf and hitchhiked to a colorful village market to provision; we snorkeled in Leleuvia while our yacht decided to pull anchor and go snorkeling the reefs herself; we visited Levuka, Fiji's amazing ancient capital; we viewed the largest clams in the world at Makogai Island; and we sailed on to Vanua Levu, Fiji's second largest island, where the couple departed to continue their backpacking trip. I'll share more of those stories in future blogs.
Here is the letter Lydia sent to me last week for inclusion in this blog:
After sailing with Lois and Gunter in 2003, my husband Helmut couldn't stop thinking of doing this one day in the future. We never stopped traveling but cruising on a yacht seemed very unrealistic to us. Living in China for five years and in Mexico for two, our feeling got stronger that if there's anything we'd like to do in our lives it'll be sailing!
Here we are—17 years and four children later, we will start our own journey on a Lagoon 45 Catamaran from Croatia. Not sure where the wind will carry us but for sure we will go back to Fiji where it all began.
Feel warmly hugged,
I strongly urge you, my readers, despite all the obstacles that may be in your paths, do not give up on your own dreams. Continue to pursue your passions, and those dreams will come to pass!
Four Tips for Travelers Sheltering in Place
Posted by Lois Joy Hofmann under Adventure, Books, Circumnavigation, Cruising, Culture, nature, Sailing and Cruising, Travel, Travel and Adventure, Writing, Yachties | Tags: #stayhome, armchair reminiscence, attitude of gratitude, Celestine Spring, Cherry Blossom Festival, cherry blossoms, Fountain Paint Pots, gift of time, inner wanderlust, Keukenhof, Leather Pool, Queen Elizabeth Park, Red Spouter, sheltering in place, tips for travelers, travel book, travel virtually, Uzbekistan, virtual tour, Yellowstone, Yurt Camp |
How can one tamp down your inner wanderlust while following pandemic stay-at-home orders?
As a travel writer, how can I help you through these trying times?
Appreciate where you've been. Embracing an attitude of gratitude can bring you out of the doldrums. Realize that this is temporary and eventually, you'll put your tabled travel plans back in motion. During this pause, those of us who are intrepid travelers have a rare chance to think more deeply about what we've already experienced. We can look into the rearview mirror, learning—or relearning—what our past travels taught us. Or we can take this time to delve further into the history and culture of places we've visited but barely scratched the surface because of time limitations. Be thankful for the gift of time you now have.
Celebrate what you did when you could. Gather together your photos and mementos, and consider making them into a travel book. If you no longer print out photos or do scrapbooking, use one of the online photo book services such as snapfish.com. Technology has made it easier than ever to collect travel memories. I have many digitally-produced travel books that I set out on the coffee table to remind us of the good times. And come to think of it, I never did make that book about last years' trip to Yellowstone and the Grand Tetons. Now is the time!
Celestine Spring was the first feature we saw after leaving the parking lot; it is a serene, deep aqua-blue and less turbulent than the features to follow.
Red Spouter
Leather Pool
Engage in armchair reminiscence. Remembering the high points of a trip has distinct advantages. When we recall a memory, we tend to edit out inconvenient details, allowing what's left to take center stage. When I recalled and blogged about our trip to Uzbekistan two years ago, I fittingly left out the part about the horrific cold I caught there, and the stomach flu that Gunter endured during the long flight home. That part had faded into the background while our experience staying at a yurt camp, where Gunter fell off his camel, became the primary story. In fact, reliving that adventure made having traveled more fun than actual traveling! I tend to travel in search of a story, but the challenge and fun of shaping the narrative comes only in retrospect when I'm safely home.
Travel virtually. While you're sitting at home, consider taking in the pleasures of spring without the pollen: online offerings from impressive botanical gardens around the world allow you to take a tour from the comfort of your home. I missed the Cherry Blossom Festival in San Diego this year, but I could take a tour of similar gardens around the world via Google Earth, complete with satellite images soaring to ten different destinations and quotes by local guides. Vancouver's cherry blossom festival in Queen Elizabeth Park lasts an entire month—as does the National Cherry Blossom festival in Washington, D.C. For a sidewalk view, go to the National Garden and Joenji Temple in Japan.
As an impressionist aficionado, one of my favorites has been Claude Monet's garden at Giverny. But after sailing the South Pacific for two years, I fell in love with tropical gardens. One magnificent virtual tour is the Hawaii Tropical Botanical Garden, which sits on 17 acres in Papaikou, HI. Every year, the New York Botanical Garden in the Bronx stages a spectacular orchid show. This year, Jeff Leatham, a "floral designer to the stars," used thousands of orchids to fashion a series of rooms festooned with orchid-laden arches, vines, hanging baskets and columns. Then it closed on March 15, never to reopen again. This 21-minute narrated tour steers viewers through a kaleidoscopic exhibition, stopping to tell stories along the way. I cannot end a virtual tour of gardens without taking you to Holland for a tulip show. "Because you cannot visit Keukenhof right now, we decided to bring Keukenhof to you!" says the park's managing director.
Now that I've turned you onto virtual tours, you may decide to use them to pursue your own passions. Gunter likes to while away the time watching YouTube videos of ships in monster storms. "Why is that calming?" I asked him.
"Because I'm so relieved that we're not out there." Then he added, "And I'm so grateful that we survived all those storms during our circumnavigation—especially that scary Force 10!"
We Gotta Get Out of This Place!
Posted by Lois Joy Hofmann under Adventure, Circumnavigation, Cruising, Culture, Life, Sailing, Sailing and Cruising, Travel, Travel and Adventure, Weather, Yachties | Tags: Aborigine Arts and Crafts Museum, Australia, Gove, Gulf of Carpentaria, Hole in the Wall, Nhulumbuy, Northern Territories |
Think back for a minute. Was there a miserable place somewhere in the world from which you were desperate to escape?
For Günter and me, during our world circumnavigation, that place was Gove, in Australia's remote Northern Territory. You've probably never heard of this working port on the western shore of the Gulf of Carpentaria. The nearest town is Nhulumbuy—about ten miles away—which you've probably never heard of either! Half the town's 3,500 inhabitants work for the bauxite mine and alumina factory—the reason for its existence.
From Darwin to Cape York showing Gove and the Gulf of Carpentaria, Northern Territory, Australia.
Everything we did in Gove was an effort and an adventure. Fueling was next-to-impossible because the fuel dock was designed for massive freighters, not low-freeboard sailboats.
Michele, from SV MiGitana, prepared for the wet dinghy trip to shore.
A 15-20 knot wind in the bay forced us to fashion garbage bags over our foul-weather sailing gear to protect us during the wet and salty dinghy ride to shore. Taxis and/or rental cars were nonexistent. One cruiser managed to borrow a car from a local Aussie, who loaned it to a cruiser friend, who loaned it to us for a trip into Nhulumbuy to provision, check out the local scene, and visit the Aborigine Arts and Crafts Museum, an additional 15 miles inland. And on top of it all, I almost lost my little finger!
Here is my story, excerpted from The Long Way Back, page 74:
We Gotta Get Out of this Place.
"If it's the last thing we ever do." I walk around Pacific Bliss singing these lyrics by The Animals. I'm anxious to move on. I never expected to spend a week in Gove; there are far more interesting places I wanted to see, such as Kimberly Gorge and Kakadu out of Darwin. Every day we spend here in Gove is a day we cannot spend there. But there's nothing we can do. The weather gods are in control. The wind has ranged from 20 knots to gale force every day; this bay is never calm, so there is no opportune weather window. We'll just have to go for it.
Günter sits across from me at the salon table entering repairs into the maintenance log:
Adjusted Spectra watermaker to get close to specs by changing filter and cleaning fore-filter fine mesh.
Took out burned shunt on port engine and connected cable directly. It's only a measuring device; however, one side had melted and opened so no current could flow.
Our VHF can no longer transmit, although it can receive. Roman, the skipper of Dragonfly, tried to fix it, but no luck. He loaned us his ham system until we can replace ours in Darwin.
Installed Version 10.2 of MaxSea and all the world charts, a two-day process.
Adjusted both fridges with "butterfly farts," small puffs of Freon.
Replaced a toilet handle. Retrieved our last spare from the sail locker, then mistakenly dropped it through the sides of the net. Used our last one from a toilet assembly we had stored for just such an emergency.
Repaired lazy jack (and bandaged Lois' crushed little finger).
Of course, there's a story behind that so-called "crushed finger" on my right hand. Most likely, it was more than crushed—it was broken. It would head a different direction, going its own way, from that day forward:
We'd planned to wait for a calm day to repair that broken lazy jack line—a part of the cordage that helps guide the mainsail onto the boom when it's lowered—but yesterday, we concluded that calm waters in Gove are as rare as rain in the Sahara. So, despite the wind roiling the bay, Günter strapped me into the bosun's chair and slowly winched me high alongside the mast, past two crossbars, up to where the line had broken. Despite weaving in the wind, I managed to tie the parts together. Only then did I dare to look down. Going down from a 63-foot carbon fiber mast would be worse than going up!
"Take it slow!" I yelled, but the wind stole my words.
I descended to the second crossbar—much too fast.
"Stop!" I needed to catch my breath.
Instead of stopping, Günter winched faster. Or so it seemed. But I'd already reached out to hold onto the crossbar and couldn't release my hand fast enough. Ouch! Fortunately, my little finger came along with me, still attached, as I sped down alongside that mast.
The closer we get to departure the scarier the sailors tales become. Our last stop at the Gove Yacht Club is a case in point. I take my job as Navigator seriously, so I set my little blue notebook within easy reach on the bar as we down our beers. The local sailor sitting next to me is more than happy to tell me what to do. With his long, grizzled beard and plaid shirt hanging out of his red-soil-stained jeans, he looks like he's been trapped in Gove for years.
"My dear Sheila, when you pass Cape Wilberforce, you'll find the tide floods west. And when you reach the Hole in the Wall, the tide floods east. Got it?
I nod and jot it down.
"After the cape, passage is best during a flood…much more pleasant," he continues. "Now, write this down." He points to my notebook. "You want to reach the Hole during the first hour of an ebb tide, so you don't face a rough entrance. But even so, it'll suck you in and push you out the other end like a devil's vortex."
Sounds like a fun ride. He can't scare me. I just wanna get out of this place.
Serendipity: An Unplanned Stop in Sri Lanka
Posted by Lois Joy Hofmann under Adventure, Books, Circumnavigation, Cruising, Culture, Fishing, Geography, History, Sailing, Sailing and Cruising, Travel, Travel and Adventure, Yachties | Tags: expect the unexpected, Galle, island nation, Land of the Blessed, Pacific Bliss, Serendip, Serendipity, Sinhala, Sri Lanka, unplanned stop |
From time to time, my blog will include an excerpt from one of my books. This story is an example of Serendipity—one of my favorite words.
Excerpted from The Long Way Back, pages 228-29:
An Unplanned Stop in Sri Lanka
06º01'N, 80º13'E
Galle, Sri Lanka
Despite the miseries that we've endured this past week, part of the joy of traveling is encountering the unexpected. We did not plan to stop at this island nation, southeast of India. Our plan was to sail straight to the Maldives. But after our miserable crossing of the Bay of Bengal, we welcome any refuge from the lumpy seas.
Serendipity brought us to Sri Lanka. And I'm fascinated that the country's original name was Serendip, an Arab traders' word applied to the land long before the Portuguese came on the scene. It reflected the lucky circumstance of their discovery and contact. Today, in its native Sinhala tongue, Sri Lanka means Land of the Blessed. For us, being here is indeed blessed and serendipitous.
Günter and I intend to understand its people and culture better—and, yes, even its' continuing civil war. This war caused us to strike Sri Lanka from our original circumnavigation plan. Now, though, we cannot avoid its ongoing cruelty. We arrive at dawn's light, crossing the shipping channels at 90 degrees and deviating course twice to sail behind giant freighters.
"You never want to cross in front of a freighter," Günter tells our crew, Chris, "because it can take one of those monsters up to four miles to stop."
Chris, our crew, with the Maldives flag. Gunter with Sri Lankan flag.
As instructed via VHF, we prepare the ship for anchoring outside the harbor. It doesn't take long to see the guns. We've never experienced an entrance like this! Two small runabouts, with mounted machine guns, race toward our boat while men wave and point to where they want us to drop the hook. Next, we spot a huge navy vessel—tons of sleek steel glinting in the morning sun—coming around the breakwater. Three Immigration Officers from the navy vessel board Pacific Bliss, while the two speedboats keep circling us.
Stilt Fisherman near Galle, Sri Lanka.
The officers conduct a thorough inspection of Pacific Bliss and give us forms to fill out. These are immigration forms, and each asks the same questions over and over. The process lasts half an hour. Then, after stamping the paperwork, one officer asks for "smokes." Wisely, we had purchased a few cartons just for this purpose. Chris distributes a pack to each officer.
We'll have a two-hour wait before being shown inside the harbor, but we don't mind; we're happy to have our first onboard breakfast in a week in calm water. After breakfast, via VHF, we hire a local agent, G.A.C. Shipping, to handle the rest of the voluminous paperwork that will allow Pacific Bliss to berth here.
Later, a navy officer boards our ship to direct Günter to a berth inside the harbor. As we enter, we note that it's entirely roped off, except for one small lane for fishing boats and yachts. The officer presents us with three choices: to tie up to a black buoy in the center, where we'd have to use our dinghy to get to shore; to Med-moor to a floating dock, consisting of wobbly plastic sections with no handholds; or to raft to one of the monohulls along the sea wall. We choose the third option and raft to a small monohull flying an Italian flag. Now we can walk across the monohull and from there, onto dry land.
"Well, we're finally safe," Günter declares with a sigh. "But we're not going to do any serious touring until we graduate to a berth directly on the sea wall. Tomorrow, we'll just walk around Galle and mingle with the locals."
That first night, cradled by Pacific Bliss and swaying with the current, I fall asleep feeling like we are still at sea. KA-BOOM! I jerk awake. I hear and feel the thunderous boom right through the water and the hull. Oh my God! What have we gotten ourselves into?
Günter pulls me over to him and hugs me tight. "It's the depth charges, remember? They told us this would happen."
Talk about encountering the unexpected!
"It feels like we're in a war zone!"
"We are. It's the price we pay for taking refuge from the storm."
An elephant bathing near Kandy, Sri Lanka, came right up to us watching on shore.
Boys hanging on the train, Sri Lankan Highlands.
Eighty-something Indian Guide, Adams Peak, Sri Lanka.
How has serendipity worked in your life? When you travel, do you make allowances for expecting the unexpected? Please add your own comments.
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redpajama_set_name: RedPajamaCommonCrawl


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The Many Storeys and Last Days of Thomas Merton
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The Many Storeys and Last Days of Thomas Merton is the story of the esteemed 20th century writer in the last year of his life, as he embarks on his greatest journey. It's a story of adventure and search that takes the viewer from Merton's home at the Abbey of Gethsemani, across America in the turbulent year of 1968 and finally to Asia for meetings with the Dalai Lama and other spiritual seekers. The Many Storeys and Last Days of Thomas Merton celebrates the triumph of all that was gained by his journey, reflects on the tragedy of what was lost with his death and considers why Merton's life and work challenges us today. It includes interviews with His Holiness the Dalai Lama, Rev. Richard Rohr and many other observers of this remarkable life.
The Many Storeys and Last Days of Thomas Merton DVD
The documentary that goes to the heart of Merton's spiritual journey. Award-winning producer Morgan Atkinson spent years researching Merton's work, as well as interviewing Merton friends, scholars and authorities on the spiritual life and shares this knowledge here.
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Town by Town: Merchantville, a place with staying power
Merchantville is known as South Jersey's Victorian Secret. It is big on tradition but short on houses for sale. Why? People move in but they rarely ever leave. Whether it's the housing stock or the K-8 school district, people stick to Merchantville like glue, the Darlands say. On the street where the Darlands bought their 1907 Sears & Roebuck craftsman bungalow three years ago, there are 11 other houses.
Six or seven have been occupied by the same families for 25 years. "The previous owners of our house also were longtime residents," Joel adds. "Merchantville still has a small-town character, and its residents do stay a long time."
There is an emphasis here on tradition, a hallmark of small-town life. In 2009, Peter Burgess and Janet Stevens bought the venerable Philadelphia Fruit Co. at South Centre and West Park Streets from owner Bob Hanna, who retired after 27 years. The couple renovated the place and reopened it in 2010 as McFarlan's Market. The name? It's what the original market at that site was called in 1880s. Mothers walk their kids to school, or the kids walk there by themselves. Members of Merchantville's small police force rotate shifts, so each gets to know all the people in town and the residents know all the officers. http://bit.ly/13qt0D5
Published in: History
Remembering the Garden State Racetrack
Jazz legend brings groove to kids


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Archdiocese announces fall plans for Catholic schools
SEATTLE – Catholic schools in the Archdiocese of Seattle will start the school year with in-person instruction, remote learning or a combination of the two, depending on guidance from local public health authorities on a county-by-county basis.
"While we miss our students and are eager to welcome them into classrooms, the safety of our students and staff and the care for the common good of the community remains paramount in our decision-making process," wrote Archbishop Paul D. Etienne and Kristin Dixon, superintendent of Catholic schools, in an August 6 letter to principals, pastors and school communities. "Our other top priority is that, through all this, our Catholic schools remain deeply committed to upholding our Catholic identity."
Archdiocesan Catholic schools will follow "guidance from Governor Inslee's office and/or local public health authorities as a minimum standard," they wrote.
"This localized approach ensures decisions are based on the most current health and safety information from each county, which is vital for the safety of our students, staff and the local community."
Elementary schools in high-risk counties — according to a framework announced August 5 by Gov. Jay Inslee — will begin the school year with remote learning. Those in moderate- and low-risk counties may start with small groups in classrooms or with a hybrid approach. Archdiocesan Catholic high schools in moderate- and high-risk counties will start the fall remotely.
Any in-person instruction will require "daily temperature checks, social distancing and mandatory masks."
"This summer has been unlike any we've ever experienced," the archbishop and the superintendent wrote in closing. "Please be sure to 'mask up' so we can slow the spread, protect our communities, and get all our students back in the classroom!"
Read the full letter below.
fall 2020 classes
For Ash Wednesday, Vatican asks priests to 'sprinkle' ashes on heads
When it's your turn, get the COVID-19 vaccine. It's an act of love, charity and solidarity
Pope's Christmas message: Share hope, promote peace, give vaccine to all
More in this category: « Students serve Whatcom County's farmworker families with Agape love Hygiene kits and masks from Seattle parishioners help homeless men stay safe »


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Kings sign defenseman Chaz Reddekopp to a three-year entry-level contract
The Los Angeles Kings have signed defenseman Chaz Reddekopp to a three-year entry-level contract, Kings Vice President and General Manager Rob Blake announced on April 14.
The 20-year-old Reddekopp (born Jan. 1, 1997) is a 6-3, 220-pound native of Abbotsford, British Columbia who appeared in 51 regular-season games this season with the Victoria Royals (WHL), posting 43 points (10-33=43), a plus-15 rating and 63 penalty minutes.
He led team defensemen and set career-highs in goals, assists (fourth overall), points (fifth overall) and power-play goals (4).
A seventh-round (187th overall) selection of the Kings at the 2015 NHL Draft, Reddekopp appeared in 234 regular-season games over four full seasons with Victoria, including the last two where he served as the assistant captain, recording 103 points (20-83=103), a plus-56 rating and 251 penalty minutes.
He also appeared in 31 postseason games, where he recorded nine points (0-9=9), a plus-3 rating and 30 penalty minutes.
Tags: Hockey, Kings, LA, Los Angeles, Sports, sports news


A new report identifies the OSS Orthopaedic Hospital among the top hospitals nationally for excellence in Joint Replacement Surgery. Every year, Healthgrades evaluates hospital performance at almost 4,500 hospitals nationwide for 32 of the most common inpatient procedures and conditions. Findings released in the Healthgrades 2019 Report to the Nation in October indicate that from 2015 through 2017, patients treated at hospitals receiving the America's 100 Best Hospitals for Joint Replacement, on average, have 63% lower risk of experiencing a complication while in the hospital than if they were treated in hospitals that did not receive this award. This speaks to OSS Health's dedication to providing quality care and exceptional outcomes as well as an outstanding patient experience.
This entry was posted in Awards and tagged healthgrades, joint replacement award. Bookmark the permalink.


I am delighted to work with a dedicated Board of Governors who are committed to helping the Head Teacher, staff and parents make St Lawrence C of E Primary School the best it can be.
Below you will find a Governor's Update explaining the role of Governors and what we do each year to assist the school with its strategic direction, educational performance and financial management.
We will also keep you informed with our regular news letters as well and with updates about our Children's Centre.
3.Overseeing the financial performance of the school and making sure its money is well spent.
a) Resources Committee, which focuses on finances, premises and personnel matters and is chaired by James Magowan.
b) Curriculum and Standards Committee, which is chaired by Geoffrey Barham.
c) Children Centre Committee, which is chaired by Liz Beck. It monitors the Children Centre's management and budget working with the Children Centre Manager and Surrey data to ensure the effective delivery of targeted services.
In addition a Pay and Performance Committee and Headteacher's Appraisal Committee, both chaired by James Toney, meets regularly.
Governors have excellent record of attendance at meetings. We have never had to cancel a meeting in the past 12 months for not being quorate.
The governing body had a particularly busy year, focussing on academic progress, preparing for June's Ofsted inspection and improvements to the school premises.
The Curriculum and Standards Committee has spent considerable time discussing data on pupil achievement and progress and how the Pupil Premium grant is spent by the school.
Governors continue to be appointed across key areas (see overleaf) and regularly meet with staff leads to improve our understanding. We have also undertaken a number of school visits.
The Resources Committee looks at the maintenance and development of the school and works alongside the school business manager, approving the 2018/2019 school budget.
We work with the head and school business manager to implement the school development plan and we are pleased to report the school has a solid financial position.
Chris Bessant, the nominated health and safety governor, carries out termly checks of the premises.
The governors reviewed and agreed a wide range of school policies and helped prepare them for GDPR compliance.
Alongside the staff, the governors worked hard to secure funding for a new play facility for our reception class and the replacement of the boiler system in the year six block —thanks to a significant contribution from the Diocese.
The governors are pleased with the increasing number of parents contributing to our annual school fund appeal, which enables us to fulfil a statutory requirement to meet ten percent of major capital projects.
All governors have attended individual training courses. In addition, we have received training as a group in school data and Ofsted preparedness — two areas highlighted for improvement in our annual self-assessment meeting.
James Toney will serve another year as chair of governors following the governors' school business meeting in September. James Magowan is stepping down as vice-chair but will continue to chair our resources committee. He will be succeeded by Geoffrey Barham.
Two new governors have been appointed for the new academic year - Katrina Turner and Caroline Coulthard. Caroline is our new local authority governor, a position which has been vacant for the past 12 months. Katrina's appointment as a foundation governor, replacing Marian Stewart, will be formally confirmed at November's parochial church council meeting.
Minutes of the full governing body and its committees are public records and are available on request.
Having achieved a 'Good' in June's Ofsted inspection, the governing body are committed to assisting the school move into the outstanding category and continued performance improvements.
We will learn from the recommendations of the Ofsted report, with a particular focus in the coming academic year on assisting with the development of middle leadership across the school, improving mathematical reasoning skills and reducing persistent absence and lateness.
How can you contact the governing body?
It's important for governors to be visible to parents and for you to know the work we do for the school.
Our newsletter - and contributions to the weekly school bulletin - will help keep you informed and we now have a dedicated email address below should you have any questions - governor@stlawrenceprimary.co.uk.
You can also contact the chair of governors, James Toney, via the school office.
This summer's Ofsted inspection concluded a busy year for the school and its governing body.
These visits can be stressful experiences but the inspector was quick to acknowledge the big strides the school has made in all areas in the four years since their last inspection.
They were incredibly complimentary about our children, their behaviour, the way they spoke with confidence about their work and their clear passion for our school community. Thank you to all those who contributed to the parent view survey, some of the comments really gave staff a boost after a long year.
Of course, there will always be lessons from every visit and work has already begun on ensuring the school's development continues to go from strength to strength.
A key role of governors is to provide the oversight for this work, challenging staff on all areas from leadership to finances to teaching and learning.
Marian Stewart stepped down from her role as a foundation governor this summer, after long service to the school. She will be much missed for her considerable contribution and it's fitting that she leaves after playing such a key role in preparing for the Ofsted visit.
In addition to providing the oversight for school strategy and finances, the governors have spent considerable time discussing the current situation for the provision of secondary school places for St Lawrence children. Alongside the headteacher, I have held meetings with Surrey Council's schools commissioner and Councillor Mike Goodman to raise your concerns. We were visited by Surrey Heath MP Michael Gove in July and made representations on behalf of the parents about the issues concerning so many families.


Trust is one of those qualities that you cannot easily define. But, is worth its weight in gold! Before the global credit crunch, people used to trust banks because they thought they provided a valuable service were too big to fail. The spectacular collapse of Lehman Brothers and the avalanche of revelations about corruption, mistakes, improprieties, and profiteering that affected most money institutions across the globe, killed off both those notions.
In my first article, Optimizing thirty bees Shopping Cart For Semantic Search, I mentioned trust and identity. If you recall, you'll never trust the pastry chef waltzing into your home to repair a leaky pipe. And, that in the digital age, the only way one establishes trust and identity is to publish those facts about you.
While the number one search engine in the world, google.com no longer ranks authorship authority on social post, it still shows up to the list of connections you have in your social influence. To get there with a following, your digital footprint needs to be complete and authentic. Page banner's, high resolution face photo in business attire, a complete "about-me" and the site links you contribute towards.
If you're just starting your company, speak with your voice and not that of your new company until you can establish that trust and notoriety. This is my G+ Profile. Click on the about me. Those are the kinds of transparent things that you need to have on all your social media profiles. A picture of your pet dog will not do at all!
Join communities that share like interests! If you're selling Patio Furniture, get involved in gardening communities and make yourself, PERSONALLY, known to the big influencers in that niche'. If you have affordable garden patio products that are durable to last and you actually know a thing about gardening you may end up attracting a few bloggers to link to your store products. Share about 80% of what other high profile users are creating and create about 30% from your own perspective.
One method I used is leveraging an influencer and share their stuff with a personal review or summary. "Mary" writes an excellent article about growing herbal plants." You expand on that by linking back to the original article with your own take plus mentioning your high tech, aquaponic tabletop containers that make growing those herbal plants that much easier!
Through the laws of Reciprocity, Mary is thus motivated to reshare and mention your link because you gave value to her own in a non-spammy way. And, you'd been conversing with her in a social media network for a few months. She knows your face and she knows your name through repetition and building a genuine friendship in the digital millennium.
If you're not a graphics artist by any stretch of the mile, head over to https://www.canva.com and upload your professional photo and just resize and download it. It's also a website that can help you create image types for various social media platforms. Just as if you were interviewing for a job, dress sharp and style your hair. Don't slouch! It is true what they say, "An image is worth a thousand words"!
If you're lost, need help or just want to help expand the article, upvote it and leave your comment. You can hit the @ and begin typing my name to mention me and get my attention on disqus. Thanks for your time!


In this tutorial, we use the IP2Proxy™ Web Service to detect proxy details from the visitor's IP address. Instead of loading the full database, you can also lookup IP address via our hosted web service.
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key (required) API key. Please use "demo" for evaluation.
Below are the sample codes written in PHP to query and display user's proxy information.
Dim Key As String = "demo"
strQuery = "http://api.ip2proxy.com/?" & "ip=" & IPAddress & "&key=demo&package=PX4"


The other night I had the singular and rare pleasure of having our apartment to myself for the evening. I adore my husband, but sometimes a girl needs a night to herself to take a bath, watch trashy TV (Grey's Anatomy and The Vampire Diaries) and lay on her Pranamat.
What's a Pranamat? So glad you asked! My Pranamat is my new bliss out discovery. It would be an understatement to say I am obsessed.
The Pranamat was designed in the tradition of ancient Indian Yogis who would use a "bed of nails" for meditation and self-healing. I promise, this is much better than lying on nails!
I exercise a lot. A lot. Exercise makes me feel great, creates natural endorphins and gives me energy. However, if I am not careful my muscles can get tight and tense and my body can feel "locked up." I am always looking for news ways to relax and keep things flowing.
As you lie on the Pranamat, the tiny spikes of the lotuses press your skin, massage your body and intensify the local blood flow and lymph circulation. The natural endorphins your body releases block pain and create a feeling of well-being. Along with all those great endorphins, your body also releases Oxytocin- it's own natural happy pill. When Oxytocin levels rise, stress hormones decrease. Our bodies are pretty amazing huh?
All you have to do is lie still and in about 30 minutes you will experience total bliss. I liken it to the "massage coma" feeling I get during an amazing deep tissue massage. You are not asleep, but not awake either. Just totally 100% blissed out.
I lie on my Pranamat a few times a week, usually before bed. It truly helps relieve my muscle tension, stress and pain.
Amazingly, the Pranamat can also be used as an energizer. Just lie on it for 5-20 minutes. It is not until after 20 minutes that it becomes a relaxant. On Saturday night I was feeling tired and lazy but I knew I had to motivate and rally for my dinner and drinks plans. I lay on my Pranamat for 15 minutes before getting dressed and I was good to go!
I like my wellness with a bit of style. Lucky for me the Pranamat is good looking too. Mine is orange with purple lotus spikes-it fits right in with the décor of my office! No need to shove it in a closet-just careful it is not somewhere you will accidentally step on it! I also love that it is made from 100% natural materials including linen and coconut fibre.
The Pranamat is truly 100 % natural bliss. I think I am in love.


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