The Galapagos Islands, home to all sorts of fascinating animals, all unique and different in their own special way. Where everything seems so perfect, like man has never set foot on Earth and ruined it all with our chemicals and toxins, like everything is the way it’s suppose to be. All the trees and grass, the fresh air, the soft sand, the clear water... Everything.
From Panama Canal (8˚ north, 79˚ west) I sailed to the Galapagos on January 30th, 1970. It was a calm and trouble-free eight day sail from Panama to San Cristobal. I arrived at night, using the depth-sounder, I found my way into the Wrecked Harbor.
The first thing I did the next morning was go ashore and went to check up on the news of Patti and where she might be. A sourness washed over me when I found out there was nothing from her and the next mail wasn’t due for another few days. I was getting worried.
During the next few days, Fili (the blind cat) gave birth to two kittens-Pooh and Piglet. A cable arrived contain information on Patti and that she would be flying to Baltra Island of the Galapagos, the only airport located in the Islands. Two days later, Patti and her parents arrived and I once again held her in my arms.
For the next ten days (the Ratterrees were great company), we explored the islands, discovering new things everyday, living our lives to the fullest. I remembered Darwin used a phrase I particularly liked about the Galapagos: “Here we seem to be brought to that great fact of history-that mystery of mysteries-the first appearance of a new being on this earth.” I really like this phrase and felt particularly close to “mystery of mysteries” during my stay in the Galapagos.
We went from island to island, having fun and just relaxing on the soft, warm sand. The waves washing up on shore, finches soaring high and low, sea lions surfing from wave to wave... This is the life.
The thirteen islands of archipelago (five volcanic) have created the world’s best natural history laboratory. It’s hard to think that people would ever even have the notion to destroy such a beautiful balance...
Galapagos were first plundered a long time ago when the English pirates used the island as a hideout for attacking the treasuere-laden ships of Spain and brought unwanted rodents along with them which is the explanation of wild life gone. Later, the iguanas of this pleasant land were shot by bored servicemen, only a handful of these unique creatures survived. 400 000 land turtles have lost their lives just for salesman to earn money. In the past century, whales have been slaughtered for food and other uses.
Just knowing these facts has me angry. People should be thinking of ways to preserve the wild life, not destroy it even father. Luckily, the Ecuador has declared that the islands are protected reserve and has been given a wildlife legal defense against people who think of nothing but money.
The following weeks were recorded into my log book of how we had the time of our lives. Our meals were of the best of the best all because of the lobsters and wild goat here. Everyday single day, Patti stomach swells more and more. I’m really looking forward to the birth of our child, to feel it’s tiny hands and feet, to know that we made life and that we can teach it to love nature, to embrace what it has given us and what is yet to come.
A few days ago we found a ship called Lina-A and fixed Patti up a ride that will get her to Baltra, there she will take the airplane back to San Francisco. Now I’m in Dove, waving at Patti and saying my good byes. I’m going to miss her through this last leg of my journey.
Event in Chapter 10 : Creatures That Hath Life on page 155-165.
Thursday, September 18, 2008
The Marriage of Happiness
Africa, the continent of jungles and swinging vines, the land which lions, elephants, giraffes and other wild life roam. Where natives dance around a big iron pot, cooking their meal. This is how television poison people’s minds with the view of only one side of this beautiful land.
When we first arrived at Africa, we never suspect that Durban (29˚ south, 31˚ east) would look like San Francisco. Sky scrapers, high-rises, paved roads... It seems like I’ve completed my journey and gone home... But something about this place is different... It’s something that gives Africa it’s own blood beat, it’s own sort of rhythm that can not be heard, but felt within the heart...
As I arrive at Durban’s Port of the royal Natal Yacht Club, Mac McLaren (who worked with me at the Darwin power station) was standing on the port, waving ferociously, shouting my name across the water. After I met his gaze and waved back, he dived into the water and swam to Dove. When he arrived, I hulled him aboard. After talking about how he tracked us (me and Patti) down he told me that Patti was waiting for me on one of the ocean cruisers in the yacht basin. I hurriedly got through customs then rushed for the yacht that carries Patti, and once there, we flew into each other’s arms and embraced each other for God knows how long.
Although we have been together for a really long time, neither of us ever spoke of marriage. Most of the marriages we know of had broken down and we were still quite young. But our Durban reunion brought a new idea to my mind. I would love to give Patti a pledge that she is more, to me, than just a sailor’s wife. I wanted her to know how much I loved her, and that nothing could stop us from being together, not even the next port.
Throughout the next week, a National Geographic staff writer came and we worked the first article of my voyage together. The day the magazine staff member left, was the day I proposed to Patti. We were walking by a jewelry shop when something caught the corner of my eye. It was a golden ring with a strange Oriental design. I nudged Patti and lead her through the doors of the store, then I asked the jeweler to slide the ring onto Patti’s ring finger of her heft hand. It fitted perfectly, then I asked her to marry me.
On our way back to the hotel, Patti thought about my proposal. She told me that it didn’t have to be marriage, and that she wouldn’t want me to feel like she owns me so I couldn’t ever leave her. But I changed her mind and the next morning, we went to the Durban magistrate’s court to get married. The official asked my age and when I told him I was eighteen, he said I needed a notarized consent since I was still a minor. I wrote a letter to my parents explaining our situation and Patti returned to the yacht club.
Later on in the afternoon, I took Patti to a spot on the beach where we sat down. I took her hand, slipped the ring off, then put it back on when I said to her that even if I don’t know the words of the marriage ceremony, I do know that I just wanted to spend the rest of my life with her and so from this day forward, we are man and wife. It’s just that simple.
Event from Chapter 7 of Dove, Drumbeats and Bridal Suite. Page 103-107.
When we first arrived at Africa, we never suspect that Durban (29˚ south, 31˚ east) would look like San Francisco. Sky scrapers, high-rises, paved roads... It seems like I’ve completed my journey and gone home... But something about this place is different... It’s something that gives Africa it’s own blood beat, it’s own sort of rhythm that can not be heard, but felt within the heart...
As I arrive at Durban’s Port of the royal Natal Yacht Club, Mac McLaren (who worked with me at the Darwin power station) was standing on the port, waving ferociously, shouting my name across the water. After I met his gaze and waved back, he dived into the water and swam to Dove. When he arrived, I hulled him aboard. After talking about how he tracked us (me and Patti) down he told me that Patti was waiting for me on one of the ocean cruisers in the yacht basin. I hurriedly got through customs then rushed for the yacht that carries Patti, and once there, we flew into each other’s arms and embraced each other for God knows how long.
Although we have been together for a really long time, neither of us ever spoke of marriage. Most of the marriages we know of had broken down and we were still quite young. But our Durban reunion brought a new idea to my mind. I would love to give Patti a pledge that she is more, to me, than just a sailor’s wife. I wanted her to know how much I loved her, and that nothing could stop us from being together, not even the next port.
Throughout the next week, a National Geographic staff writer came and we worked the first article of my voyage together. The day the magazine staff member left, was the day I proposed to Patti. We were walking by a jewelry shop when something caught the corner of my eye. It was a golden ring with a strange Oriental design. I nudged Patti and lead her through the doors of the store, then I asked the jeweler to slide the ring onto Patti’s ring finger of her heft hand. It fitted perfectly, then I asked her to marry me.
On our way back to the hotel, Patti thought about my proposal. She told me that it didn’t have to be marriage, and that she wouldn’t want me to feel like she owns me so I couldn’t ever leave her. But I changed her mind and the next morning, we went to the Durban magistrate’s court to get married. The official asked my age and when I told him I was eighteen, he said I needed a notarized consent since I was still a minor. I wrote a letter to my parents explaining our situation and Patti returned to the yacht club.
Later on in the afternoon, I took Patti to a spot on the beach where we sat down. I took her hand, slipped the ring off, then put it back on when I said to her that even if I don’t know the words of the marriage ceremony, I do know that I just wanted to spend the rest of my life with her and so from this day forward, we are man and wife. It’s just that simple.
Event from Chapter 7 of Dove, Drumbeats and Bridal Suite. Page 103-107.
Saturday, September 13, 2008
Paradise Islands. August 25th, 1966
The journey throughout the islands have been , and perhaps are, the greatest times I’ve ever had. Patti found the typewriter I bargained for during my stay at Pago Pago and began to record what happened during these wonderful days in the Yasawa group. We would often go shell-diving and swimming in the beautifully painted torquiest sea, discovering the wonders hidden deep within.
Sometimes, the people of the islands would share their food with us and we would enjoy a meal of seafood and fresh fruits accompanied by candle light shining through a bottle. One day, a Fijian boy who has been sitting upon a rock nearby gave us his only catch of the day. We were really touched by his hospitality and hopefully we could give him something in return.
These islands are like what heaven is about, happiness, spending your time with the one you love and just enjoying every moment of every minute. We knew that we’re had already gotten too close to heaven too early, and that we would have to leave this place and let it become nothing more than a memory...
After spending about 2 months among the mid-islands of the Yasawa group, our final stop is the northernmost island in the archipelago. It turns out to be a limestone island and non-volcanic, apart from all the others. We went diving as soon as we got the chance and went through a grotto which the Fijians said once refuged two young lovers. We swam into an underwater arch for several yards then came up for air in a little cove with a weird atmosphere. As soon as our eyes refocused and adjusted to the dark, Patti had a bad feeling and we rushed out as fast as we could.
After that we anchored into a near by bay, since we couldn’t anchor just by letting the chain down for we could destroy some of the coral reef, I had to anchor by hand. I dived into the vivid blue water and looked for a spot to anchor safely. Just then, a black erie shadow moved slowly over me. I tilted my head upward and directly above me was a long gray shark. As soon as I saw it, I knew what it had in mind, but I didn’t give it a second chance to think about having me as lunch and scurried to the surface where the dingy was. Jumping on the dingy, I heard Patti shouting warnings. She was praying that I would notice the ocean predator in time. That was my very first encounter with sharks (face-to-face).
Event in Chapter 4 : Love & Blue Lagoons on page 61-66.
Sometimes, the people of the islands would share their food with us and we would enjoy a meal of seafood and fresh fruits accompanied by candle light shining through a bottle. One day, a Fijian boy who has been sitting upon a rock nearby gave us his only catch of the day. We were really touched by his hospitality and hopefully we could give him something in return.
These islands are like what heaven is about, happiness, spending your time with the one you love and just enjoying every moment of every minute. We knew that we’re had already gotten too close to heaven too early, and that we would have to leave this place and let it become nothing more than a memory...
After spending about 2 months among the mid-islands of the Yasawa group, our final stop is the northernmost island in the archipelago. It turns out to be a limestone island and non-volcanic, apart from all the others. We went diving as soon as we got the chance and went through a grotto which the Fijians said once refuged two young lovers. We swam into an underwater arch for several yards then came up for air in a little cove with a weird atmosphere. As soon as our eyes refocused and adjusted to the dark, Patti had a bad feeling and we rushed out as fast as we could.
After that we anchored into a near by bay, since we couldn’t anchor just by letting the chain down for we could destroy some of the coral reef, I had to anchor by hand. I dived into the vivid blue water and looked for a spot to anchor safely. Just then, a black erie shadow moved slowly over me. I tilted my head upward and directly above me was a long gray shark. As soon as I saw it, I knew what it had in mind, but I didn’t give it a second chance to think about having me as lunch and scurried to the surface where the dingy was. Jumping on the dingy, I heard Patti shouting warnings. She was praying that I would notice the ocean predator in time. That was my very first encounter with sharks (face-to-face).
Event in Chapter 4 : Love & Blue Lagoons on page 61-66.
Wednesday, September 3, 2008
The Loss of a Friend
I had just lost one of the most important thing to me today, Joliette.
I had sailed out of Samoa and continued my voyage around the world with Joliette by my side. Suzette had gone missing during my stay at Samoa and I couldn’t find her anywhere. I suspect a tomcat that was working his way through the trash cans had rapidly seduced pretty Suzette. Joliette, realizing that her sister is gone, stuck to my heels.
I arrived at the Fijian Islands a few days later and met up with a friend of mine, Dick Johnston, a yachtsman who has spent a lot of time among the Fijians. He taught me how to gather food (my usual bargaining is not working with the Fijians).
I was at a yacht club later on in the day, when a waiter came to me and told me that Joliette got ran over by a truck. A struck of misery and sorrow washed over me. I went back to Dove then collapsed on the cabin floor, bawling like a kid. Joliette was more that just a cat to me, she was my shipmate, my friend, someone I could talk to when I felt lonely, but that’s all gone now. I returned to the yacht club and came back with a bottle of vodka, then got drunk. Hopefully this will diminish my memories of Joliette...
Event in chapter 3 : Where Earth Day Begins. Page. 50 - 51
I had sailed out of Samoa and continued my voyage around the world with Joliette by my side. Suzette had gone missing during my stay at Samoa and I couldn’t find her anywhere. I suspect a tomcat that was working his way through the trash cans had rapidly seduced pretty Suzette. Joliette, realizing that her sister is gone, stuck to my heels.
I arrived at the Fijian Islands a few days later and met up with a friend of mine, Dick Johnston, a yachtsman who has spent a lot of time among the Fijians. He taught me how to gather food (my usual bargaining is not working with the Fijians).
I was at a yacht club later on in the day, when a waiter came to me and told me that Joliette got ran over by a truck. A struck of misery and sorrow washed over me. I went back to Dove then collapsed on the cabin floor, bawling like a kid. Joliette was more that just a cat to me, she was my shipmate, my friend, someone I could talk to when I felt lonely, but that’s all gone now. I returned to the yacht club and came back with a bottle of vodka, then got drunk. Hopefully this will diminish my memories of Joliette...
Event in chapter 3 : Where Earth Day Begins. Page. 50 - 51
The Hurricane. January 29th, 1966.
I had gone through what most people think might be terrifying or frightening, but to me, this is just another small adventure waiting to happen.
My next stop is Pago Pago. Pago Pago is 14 degrees south and 170 degrees west. It's neighboring major islands/cities include Olosega, Manono and Upolu.
A few days after I arrived at Pago Pago, the weather reports indicate a hurricane is well on it’s way. This is the worst hurricane to hit Samoa in seventy years. It’s still hurricane season, so it seems like a good idea to hole up in Pago Pago. Jude Croft, a friend of mine who have flown to Samoa a few weeks ago, joined me aboard Dove.
A few days after I arrived at Pago Pago, the weather reports indicate a hurricane is well on it’s way. This is the worst hurricane to hit Samoa in seventy years. It’s still hurricane season, so it seems like a good idea to hole up in Pago Pago. Jude Croft, a friend of mine who have flown to Samoa a few weeks ago, joined me aboard Dove.
On January 29th, nine o’clock at night. The hurricane is starting to pick up, I grabbed my tape recorder and gave a running commentary: Gusts of wind are hurling spray though the air like snow in a blizzard. This is so exiting! Dove is swinging and rolling from gunwale to gunwale... The notion is like sitting in a rocking chair, swinging back and forth, and back and forth... Ten o’clock. Man, I’d never imagine winds of this kind existed... Through the ports I can see the lights going out in the town - whole streets suddenly blackened as the power fails or telephone pole crashes... I can sense Dove is being propelled by a brutal force... Wow! That blast dipped the port gunwale underwater... Mid-night. The noise is now deafening... Radio says that winds are topping one hundred miles per hour! Wow man! The boat is being lift up by the wind and throwing her side to side until the ports are covered. Imagine that! No sails, just bare poles... the sea is pouring over the cockpit combing. Boy, my ears are popping... Suzette and Joliette are keeping their cool. Guess they know they have nine lives. Wow! I think that was it! We heeled over eighty-five degrees.
There was plenty of screaming and yelling along with laughter and exhilaration in the playback. Nature provides nothing to match a hurricane - devastating though it always is - for sheer thrill which tightens every nerve like violin strings. It was a fantastic night.
Event from Chapter 3 of Dove, Where Earth Day Begins. Page 42-43.
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Example log
Christmas Letter from the Dragons
2004 is upon us, and we were hardly used to being into 2003. That is how Jane and I feel about the way time is flying by. So here are a few words to let you know that we are still on the list of the living. We are a bit late, but we have never been known to be first on the line.
After a summer in Northland NZ cruising and working on boat maintenance, including all of an oh-too-rainy February on the ways painting topsides and having keels and rudders sand blasted and coated (and watching the Americas Cup fiasco) we sailed north at the end of June. We spent the next four months in the Vava'u Island group of Tonga.
We are still playing the same game, living aboard and cruising enjoyable locations, doing it in our low-key, low-cost habitual way. Funnily, in contrast with the day when we started and were the young ones in the fleet, we are now seniors in amongst the great number of younger folk who are cruising today. MAGIC DRAGON is also one of the seniors in the fleet. She'll have her fortieth birthday this coming August, but she is not showing her age like the rest of us. Actually she fits in better with the amazing modern flotilla of today's cruising yachts than do her more conventional contemporaries.
Thanks to her roller furling and reefing sails we can still sail her easily. We wonder how we managed with hanked sails for the first twenty years. Now I can hardly lift the sail bags. Some enormous yachts are cruised by just one couple thanks to sail handling made easy.
Here in New Zealand the coastline is changing fast. The little people that used to live off the land on the beach have sold to big money. Now it is large rarely-occupied houses, fancy motor yachts, helicopter access--mostly Americans, Germans and Brits. The problem is that it has put land prices up out of reach of the average Kiwi, and that is too bad. But at least the buildings are not desecrating the view. Landscapers and other slaves are the most visible bods we see.
All in all, from MAGIC DRAGON we see the world through rose-coloured glasses, and we make sure to listen or read news of the real world as seldom as possible to keep the illusion alive. If little aches and memory holes did not remind us otherwise, we could still think that time is not overtaking us. "What next?" is the question, but who has an answer to what will happen in their mid or late seventies? In French they say: "Qui vivra verra".
Happy 2004.
By: Michel & Jane DeRidder
http://www.setsail.com/s_logs/deridder/dragon2.html
2004 is upon us, and we were hardly used to being into 2003. That is how Jane and I feel about the way time is flying by. So here are a few words to let you know that we are still on the list of the living. We are a bit late, but we have never been known to be first on the line.
After a summer in Northland NZ cruising and working on boat maintenance, including all of an oh-too-rainy February on the ways painting topsides and having keels and rudders sand blasted and coated (and watching the Americas Cup fiasco) we sailed north at the end of June. We spent the next four months in the Vava'u Island group of Tonga.
We are still playing the same game, living aboard and cruising enjoyable locations, doing it in our low-key, low-cost habitual way. Funnily, in contrast with the day when we started and were the young ones in the fleet, we are now seniors in amongst the great number of younger folk who are cruising today. MAGIC DRAGON is also one of the seniors in the fleet. She'll have her fortieth birthday this coming August, but she is not showing her age like the rest of us. Actually she fits in better with the amazing modern flotilla of today's cruising yachts than do her more conventional contemporaries.
Thanks to her roller furling and reefing sails we can still sail her easily. We wonder how we managed with hanked sails for the first twenty years. Now I can hardly lift the sail bags. Some enormous yachts are cruised by just one couple thanks to sail handling made easy.
Here in New Zealand the coastline is changing fast. The little people that used to live off the land on the beach have sold to big money. Now it is large rarely-occupied houses, fancy motor yachts, helicopter access--mostly Americans, Germans and Brits. The problem is that it has put land prices up out of reach of the average Kiwi, and that is too bad. But at least the buildings are not desecrating the view. Landscapers and other slaves are the most visible bods we see.
All in all, from MAGIC DRAGON we see the world through rose-coloured glasses, and we make sure to listen or read news of the real world as seldom as possible to keep the illusion alive. If little aches and memory holes did not remind us otherwise, we could still think that time is not overtaking us. "What next?" is the question, but who has an answer to what will happen in their mid or late seventies? In French they say: "Qui vivra verra".
Happy 2004.
By: Michel & Jane DeRidder
http://www.setsail.com/s_logs/deridder/dragon2.html
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