This is a follow-up to my last post - a reply via email from our friend Kurt, which I hope he does not mind me publishing. Kurt made the passage form Hawaii to the US in a very small boat back when that was a not particularly common thing to do...
...I liked your post about why folks do it now. When Jack London had the Snark built (apparently a pretty lame designed wooden schooner) and announced that he was going to sail it to Hawaii, locals in Oakland took out a betting pool on whether or not he would survive and how far he would get. This illustrates an important point - the psychology of the thing. Of course it's MUCH safer to do that same run today than it was in 1904, or whenever that was, but it's still the same ocean. The big difference is that in our mind's eye the distances have shrunk dramatically. Instant communications and jet travel are part of that, but bigger still is the very real likelihood that we all know that a run to Hawaii is not a big deal, and perhaps know others who have done it. Hawaii used to be a death defying stunt that marked you as a fool. Now it's a milk run. The Westsail 32 is probably as responsible for this as much as anything else. There are moments when the collective consciousness shifts, and what was obvious to one generation is not so obvious to the next, or perhaps more-so. You and Rani were freed up to do this by all those who went before, and some you know personally. Harry Pigeon's book is so charming because he makes it all sound like no big thing. In his day that was amazing. But I'll feel better when I hear you are safe in Aukland, because this next jump can be a big thing. Be careful.
Sunday, November 4, 2012
Saturday, November 3, 2012
Why there are so many people doing this
The other day we were chatting with a cruising couple who have been living this life since the early 1980's and they mentioned how different it is now from when they were first out here. There are so many people out cruising that the people in the places they visited are no longer as curious and welcoming as they were. The anchorages are more crowded and there are far more marinas and moorings, making it difficult in places to find a place to anchor.
I have already discussed discussed some of the things that make long distance cruising so much easier now than it was even a generation ago. But a few more things have occurred to me, so please forgive me for some repetition.
Increased cruising infrastructure: More marinas and related infrastructure makes it possible to break up a trip, fix the boat, and even leave the boat in a safe place for a trip home. If you reach the point where you don't want to continue, you can ship your boat home via one of the long range boat carriers.
Improved weather forecasting: Available via long range radio, satellite communications, or wifi (when near a port), we have access to powerful computer-based models as well as dedicated amateur and professional marine weather forecasters. For example, each day I can tune into a radio net out of New Zealand called Gulf Harbour Radio, where forecasters answer cruiser's questions about the weather.
Custom weather routing: Some cruisers sign up for custom forecasts and routing on passages like the one from Tonga/Fiji to New Zealand.
Better communications: Most cruising books still talk about sending letters to communicate with those at home. Nowadays, email via radio, satellite, or wifi access is the norm - instant and relatively hassle-free.
Availability of boats: The market, in North America anyway, is replete with 1000's of cruising boats available for prices ranging from that of a good second hand car.
Reliable inboard diesel engines: Make anchoring and maneuvering in tricky places much simpler than when one had to do this under sail.
Support nets: Radio nets connect cruisers to each other and those at home (via position reports posted on the internet). For example, each day when we are on passage we check into a radio net called the "Drifter's Net" that keeps track of vessels en route to New Zealand and Australia.
Improved navigation electronics and software: GPS, radar, electronic charting, AIS, and tide and current software make it far easier to know where one is and avoid hazards and other ships.
Labour saving devices: Inflatable dinghies and reliable outboard motors remove the need to be fit enough to row ashore, the electric windlass allows even a 90 pound weakling to hoist a heavy anchor, electric winches do the same for heavy sails, roller furling jibs and mainsail furling remove much of the effort required to hoist, lower, and reef sails. Self steering via wind vanes and autopilots relieves the crew of the 'tyranny of the helm'.
Shipboard conveniences: Water makers, water heaters, and pressure water provide the same convenience we are used to ashore. Propane stoves and compact refrigerators and freezers make it feasible to eat as well as you do ashore. Solar panels, big alternators, small diesel and gas generators, and wind generators provide electricity galore.
When Slocum and Pigeon did the kind of voyaging we are doing now, they had to build their own boats of wood. They cooked with kerosene or wood and ate the same sea-going diet that Columbus's crew endured. They navigated with compass, lead line, and sextant. I don't believe there was even a winch on board the Spray, although she may have had a capstan to help raise anchor. They had no electrics of any sort, nor an engine to move them on calm days or in and out of tight places. They had no radios and weather forecasting would have been done by consulting the sky, the sea, and the barometer. No wonder that, until recently, so few people went voyaging for pleasure.
I have already discussed discussed some of the things that make long distance cruising so much easier now than it was even a generation ago. But a few more things have occurred to me, so please forgive me for some repetition.
Increased cruising infrastructure: More marinas and related infrastructure makes it possible to break up a trip, fix the boat, and even leave the boat in a safe place for a trip home. If you reach the point where you don't want to continue, you can ship your boat home via one of the long range boat carriers.
Improved weather forecasting: Available via long range radio, satellite communications, or wifi (when near a port), we have access to powerful computer-based models as well as dedicated amateur and professional marine weather forecasters. For example, each day I can tune into a radio net out of New Zealand called Gulf Harbour Radio, where forecasters answer cruiser's questions about the weather.
Custom weather routing: Some cruisers sign up for custom forecasts and routing on passages like the one from Tonga/Fiji to New Zealand.
Better communications: Most cruising books still talk about sending letters to communicate with those at home. Nowadays, email via radio, satellite, or wifi access is the norm - instant and relatively hassle-free.
Availability of boats: The market, in North America anyway, is replete with 1000's of cruising boats available for prices ranging from that of a good second hand car.
Reliable inboard diesel engines: Make anchoring and maneuvering in tricky places much simpler than when one had to do this under sail.
Support nets: Radio nets connect cruisers to each other and those at home (via position reports posted on the internet). For example, each day when we are on passage we check into a radio net called the "Drifter's Net" that keeps track of vessels en route to New Zealand and Australia.
Improved navigation electronics and software: GPS, radar, electronic charting, AIS, and tide and current software make it far easier to know where one is and avoid hazards and other ships.
Labour saving devices: Inflatable dinghies and reliable outboard motors remove the need to be fit enough to row ashore, the electric windlass allows even a 90 pound weakling to hoist a heavy anchor, electric winches do the same for heavy sails, roller furling jibs and mainsail furling remove much of the effort required to hoist, lower, and reef sails. Self steering via wind vanes and autopilots relieves the crew of the 'tyranny of the helm'.
Shipboard conveniences: Water makers, water heaters, and pressure water provide the same convenience we are used to ashore. Propane stoves and compact refrigerators and freezers make it feasible to eat as well as you do ashore. Solar panels, big alternators, small diesel and gas generators, and wind generators provide electricity galore.
When Slocum and Pigeon did the kind of voyaging we are doing now, they had to build their own boats of wood. They cooked with kerosene or wood and ate the same sea-going diet that Columbus's crew endured. They navigated with compass, lead line, and sextant. I don't believe there was even a winch on board the Spray, although she may have had a capstan to help raise anchor. They had no electrics of any sort, nor an engine to move them on calm days or in and out of tight places. They had no radios and weather forecasting would have been done by consulting the sky, the sea, and the barometer. No wonder that, until recently, so few people went voyaging for pleasure.
Ha'apai and correction to last post
We finally sailed from Vava'u yesterday making an overnight passage to the Ha'apai group. These islands are mainly atolls - lower than the Vava'u group but with fantastic sand beaches and reefs everywhere. We sailed close-hauled all the way into a light SE wind, heaving to around 2 am off the islands. This morning we anchored off a 2 mile long sand beach after a few hours of interesting tacking between shoals and reefs.
There is a deep low forecast to come through here with winds to gale force that has everybody worried. Some boats on passage to New Zealand have actually returned to Tonga to take shelter rather than face the high winds and seas while on passage. We shall find a safe anchorage nearby, although the Ha'apai are not renowned for anchorages with 360 degree protection.
My friend Kurt points out that the last post should read 3200 liters per heating season - not 32000! He also suggest that solar panels take maybe 10 years to produce the amount of energy they took to make in the first place.
There is a deep low forecast to come through here with winds to gale force that has everybody worried. Some boats on passage to New Zealand have actually returned to Tonga to take shelter rather than face the high winds and seas while on passage. We shall find a safe anchorage nearby, although the Ha'apai are not renowned for anchorages with 360 degree protection.
My friend Kurt points out that the last post should read 3200 liters per heating season - not 32000! He also suggest that solar panels take maybe 10 years to produce the amount of energy they took to make in the first place.
Friday, November 2, 2012
Carbon footprint while cruising - lower or higher than at home?
For a couple of years I volunteered for a climate change group at the University of Victoria. My area of focus was transportation - how to reduce the university's carbon footprint by encouraging people to take the bus, ride bicycles, car pool, etc. One of the most interesting aspects of working with this group was that it helped me understand how incredibly reliant we are on fossil fuels in our society. They underlie every aspect of our life because almost everything is manufactured using fossil fuels - from our houses, appliances, and cars, to the food we eat, and even the water we drink. In a northern country like Canada each of us has an enormous footprint due mainly to heating costs, transportation over large distances, and importing food from far away.
Sailing on a boat in the tropics goes a long way toward reducing one's short term carbon footprint, even though the energy needed to build our boats in the first place is large. For a start, we have been eating food that is grown locally and organically - some of which we have actually picked ourselves. It has been estimated that each calorie of a typical food in Canada requires about 10 calories of fossil fuels to grow, process, package, and transport. So eating locally grown un-processed foods goes a long way to reducing this consumption.
Heating a modest home in Nova Scotia, Canada, which does not have particularly cold winters used to consume about 32000 liters of heating fuel (diesel) per season. Combined with driving a car (1500 liters) and electricity consumption (via diesel generators - say 500 liters), that would have a couple burning 5200 liters of diesel per year. On Ladybug, we have used about 220 liters of diesel to move the boat over 8 months from Mexico to Tonga and around the islands along the way. Some of this (maybe 20 liters) was used to recharge batteries when we had a problem with our fridge not shutting off. We have also burned about 22 kilograms of propane for cooking. We have not had to use our little propane heater because the places we have visited are warm. Oh - we use about 3 liters of oil per engine oil change - every 100 hours of running.
Because we generate our electricity primarily via solar panels, the carbon footprint from this is the initial cost of manufacturing the panels and controller. I will not try to estimate this, but we can assume that the cost would be amortized over 20-25 years - the life of the panels. Many cruisers have additional fuel costs for generating electricity, mainly to run larger fridges or freezers and to make water.
So our extrapolated yearly consumption of fuel for transport, charging, and heating is about 250 kgs * 1.5 (12/8 months) = 375 kgs/year. This compares to about 5200 kgs/year if we were living in a house in Nova Scotia and driving a car - about 7 percent or 1/14 as much.
One spanner in the works is air travel. Back in British Columia, when I lived on a boat and drove only a bicycle, this made up a very large part of my carbon footprint . Each year I would fly across the country to visit my parents. Similarly Rani would visit her parent in the UK. Here the problem is worse. Rani will fly home to the UK from Aukland in a few weeks. This is a trip about half way around the world. Based on the ticket cost (about 2.5 times that of a ticket from Vancouver to UK) we can safely assume that our footprint from air travel will more than double during this voyage. The way we are minimizing this is for only one of us to make the trip this year.
Sailing on a boat in the tropics goes a long way toward reducing one's short term carbon footprint, even though the energy needed to build our boats in the first place is large. For a start, we have been eating food that is grown locally and organically - some of which we have actually picked ourselves. It has been estimated that each calorie of a typical food in Canada requires about 10 calories of fossil fuels to grow, process, package, and transport. So eating locally grown un-processed foods goes a long way to reducing this consumption.
Heating a modest home in Nova Scotia, Canada, which does not have particularly cold winters used to consume about 32000 liters of heating fuel (diesel) per season. Combined with driving a car (1500 liters) and electricity consumption (via diesel generators - say 500 liters), that would have a couple burning 5200 liters of diesel per year. On Ladybug, we have used about 220 liters of diesel to move the boat over 8 months from Mexico to Tonga and around the islands along the way. Some of this (maybe 20 liters) was used to recharge batteries when we had a problem with our fridge not shutting off. We have also burned about 22 kilograms of propane for cooking. We have not had to use our little propane heater because the places we have visited are warm. Oh - we use about 3 liters of oil per engine oil change - every 100 hours of running.
Because we generate our electricity primarily via solar panels, the carbon footprint from this is the initial cost of manufacturing the panels and controller. I will not try to estimate this, but we can assume that the cost would be amortized over 20-25 years - the life of the panels. Many cruisers have additional fuel costs for generating electricity, mainly to run larger fridges or freezers and to make water.
So our extrapolated yearly consumption of fuel for transport, charging, and heating is about 250 kgs * 1.5 (12/8 months) = 375 kgs/year. This compares to about 5200 kgs/year if we were living in a house in Nova Scotia and driving a car - about 7 percent or 1/14 as much.
One spanner in the works is air travel. Back in British Columia, when I lived on a boat and drove only a bicycle, this made up a very large part of my carbon footprint . Each year I would fly across the country to visit my parents. Similarly Rani would visit her parent in the UK. Here the problem is worse. Rani will fly home to the UK from Aukland in a few weeks. This is a trip about half way around the world. Based on the ticket cost (about 2.5 times that of a ticket from Vancouver to UK) we can safely assume that our footprint from air travel will more than double during this voyage. The way we are minimizing this is for only one of us to make the trip this year.
Tuesday, October 30, 2012
A still night at Taunga
We sailed south to a new island anchorage yesterday - four long tacks into a light south west wind. It took more than two hours to accomplish what had taken 45 minutes a few days before when the winds were stronger and from the north. There were virtually no waves and the wind was so light that we chose to hand steer to make the most distance on each tack.
We have on board now a new set of charts for Tonga, created from surveys carried out by the New Zealand navy. Mike on 'Kokoamo', a Scot who spends his time between here and New Zealand, had watched as the navy ship cruised through the islands taking soundings a few years ago. New Zealand has made the charts available for free and when I visited Mike on his boat, he copied the charts onto our hard drive. These are raster charts that come as a series of '.kap' files. I believe these are simply image files with some extra meta-data (such as their location and scale) to make them usable with charting software.
We use excellent free charting software named 'OpenCPN'. To add the new charts, you simply specify the directory in which they are located and the software displays these charts along with others you previously loaded. This makes comparison between charts easy and it is clear that the older surveys of Tonga are not perfectly accurate. We are often shown as being anchored on the land or as passing over reefs when in fact we are in deeper water. You can see this by toggling between the CM93 vector charts of Tonga and the new ones. In the area we are in now, the old charts are transposed by a couple of hundred meters to the northwest on average.
When I snorkeled the anchor, the wind had vanished and the water was so still that I could lie with half my mask in one world and half in the other. I cannot recall another time on this trip when I have swum in still water. Later we sat on deck watching the sun dip into the clouds and a full moon rise. Beams of moonlight filtered through the high scudding clouds and the anchorage was lit by the reflections dancing lightly on the lapping water. As night descended, the bird songs quieted and a gentle chorus of insects took their place reaching across the bay from the nearby jungle. We feel so lucky at times like this.
Today we must find water, for our tanks are running low. We know of a cistern on an island a few miles from here, so will sail there when the wind returns.
We have on board now a new set of charts for Tonga, created from surveys carried out by the New Zealand navy. Mike on 'Kokoamo', a Scot who spends his time between here and New Zealand, had watched as the navy ship cruised through the islands taking soundings a few years ago. New Zealand has made the charts available for free and when I visited Mike on his boat, he copied the charts onto our hard drive. These are raster charts that come as a series of '.kap' files. I believe these are simply image files with some extra meta-data (such as their location and scale) to make them usable with charting software.
We use excellent free charting software named 'OpenCPN'. To add the new charts, you simply specify the directory in which they are located and the software displays these charts along with others you previously loaded. This makes comparison between charts easy and it is clear that the older surveys of Tonga are not perfectly accurate. We are often shown as being anchored on the land or as passing over reefs when in fact we are in deeper water. You can see this by toggling between the CM93 vector charts of Tonga and the new ones. In the area we are in now, the old charts are transposed by a couple of hundred meters to the northwest on average.
When I snorkeled the anchor, the wind had vanished and the water was so still that I could lie with half my mask in one world and half in the other. I cannot recall another time on this trip when I have swum in still water. Later we sat on deck watching the sun dip into the clouds and a full moon rise. Beams of moonlight filtered through the high scudding clouds and the anchorage was lit by the reflections dancing lightly on the lapping water. As night descended, the bird songs quieted and a gentle chorus of insects took their place reaching across the bay from the nearby jungle. We feel so lucky at times like this.
Today we must find water, for our tanks are running low. We know of a cistern on an island a few miles from here, so will sail there when the wind returns.
Monday, October 29, 2012
Tapana part 2
The anchorage at Tapana (#11 on the Moorings charts - S 18 42.5 W 173 59.2) is most things one would want in an anchorage. Good shelter, a bay in which you can sail a small dinghy on flat waters but with good breezes, sand beaches, some snorkeling, access to Neaifu, about 5 kms away by paved road, a nearby (Spanish) restaurant, and good holding in sand.
An American couple has operated a floating art gallery here on a little houseboat, along with 9 moorings that you can hire if you would rather not anchor. This operation is now for sale as the couple has decided to retire. I hope for the sake of the cruisers, who use these moorings as a hurricane-safe place for their boats, that someone buys the operation and keeps up the moorings.
Going ashore on Ano beach, you can scramble up a cliff to the right of the beach and hike through tall grasses to a dirt tractor road that runs along the peninsula of the main island. The road takes you through small plantations of coconut, mango, taro, potatoes, and pineapples. We even saw a garden with tomatoes and pepper plants. Many of the mangos were picked for shipping to the capital last week, but there were still enough wind-falls left to make another batch of mango chutney yesterday.
To some New Zealanders, Tonga serves the same purpose as Mexico does to a west coast Canadian cruiser. It is a wintering place where you can pretty well be guaranteed good weather and warm waters while it is wet and cold at home. One of our neighbors, Mike, lives here 6 months of the year and spends the other 6 in New Zealand. He is actually a Scott from near Aberdeen, but is retired and has been living this lifestyle for 5 or 6 years. He lives on a 40 foot plywood/glass boat that has 800 liters of water tankage - enough to last him for several months without refill. Our other neighbors here are also on their way back to New Zealand. They sail a similar boat to Ladybug - a 32 foot double ended WestSail. This year, one of the owners sailed her solo non-stop from New Zealand to Victoria, BC - our home port. This was about a 60 day passage! He sailed due north from New Zealand to somewhere around Midway island (about 1000 miles west of Hawaii) and then turned and sailed for Juan de Fuca. His wife, sensibly, flew across and after the season in BC they turned around and sailed her back to Tonga. This makes our passages look puny by comparison.
We are now waiting for some wind to sail south - probably around the end of this week.
An American couple has operated a floating art gallery here on a little houseboat, along with 9 moorings that you can hire if you would rather not anchor. This operation is now for sale as the couple has decided to retire. I hope for the sake of the cruisers, who use these moorings as a hurricane-safe place for their boats, that someone buys the operation and keeps up the moorings.
Going ashore on Ano beach, you can scramble up a cliff to the right of the beach and hike through tall grasses to a dirt tractor road that runs along the peninsula of the main island. The road takes you through small plantations of coconut, mango, taro, potatoes, and pineapples. We even saw a garden with tomatoes and pepper plants. Many of the mangos were picked for shipping to the capital last week, but there were still enough wind-falls left to make another batch of mango chutney yesterday.
To some New Zealanders, Tonga serves the same purpose as Mexico does to a west coast Canadian cruiser. It is a wintering place where you can pretty well be guaranteed good weather and warm waters while it is wet and cold at home. One of our neighbors, Mike, lives here 6 months of the year and spends the other 6 in New Zealand. He is actually a Scott from near Aberdeen, but is retired and has been living this lifestyle for 5 or 6 years. He lives on a 40 foot plywood/glass boat that has 800 liters of water tankage - enough to last him for several months without refill. Our other neighbors here are also on their way back to New Zealand. They sail a similar boat to Ladybug - a 32 foot double ended WestSail. This year, one of the owners sailed her solo non-stop from New Zealand to Victoria, BC - our home port. This was about a 60 day passage! He sailed due north from New Zealand to somewhere around Midway island (about 1000 miles west of Hawaii) and then turned and sailed for Juan de Fuca. His wife, sensibly, flew across and after the season in BC they turned around and sailed her back to Tonga. This makes our passages look puny by comparison.
We are now waiting for some wind to sail south - probably around the end of this week.
Tapana part 1
We have been anchored in Tapana now for 4 nights, with one brief foray down to another anchorage that proved to be untenable in the prevailing winds.
First - a little about our foray. We hauled up the anchor, drifted backwards a little, and then unfurled the jib, running downwind and out of the bay in a nice 10 knot breeze from the north east. A low was passing through the area and the prevailing south east trades had been replaced by gradually clocking winds which were forecast to swing into the west. The run down to Taunga Island was straightforward except for a charted reef over which we could probably pass (18 feet on the charts), but which we would rather not. We sighted the reef easily from the foredeck despite a grey sky that made it more difficult to see differences in water colour. It looks like some coral heads have grown on the reef since the chart was made as we saw a couple of patches of brown water over the more comforting green - light browns should definitely be avoided! We passed the reef a hundred meters off in deep water.
When we arrived at the point behind which the anchorage was located on the south east side of Taunga, it was clear that this was going to be a tricky place to enter. the entire anchorage was a shallow plane of sand with scattered coral heads. The wind was now about 12-15 knots from dead aft, so we rolled up most of the jib and finally furled it entirely, Rani steering us in under motor, while I directed us around the coral heads from the foredeck. Even with minimal power we were going too fast for comfort and as the water shoaled to only a meter below the keel, Rani made it clear that this was not a place she wanted to stay. We had one of our 'discussions', but in the end Rani's common sense won out and we hoisted a 2-reefed main and beat back up to our old anchorage at Tapana.
First - a little about our foray. We hauled up the anchor, drifted backwards a little, and then unfurled the jib, running downwind and out of the bay in a nice 10 knot breeze from the north east. A low was passing through the area and the prevailing south east trades had been replaced by gradually clocking winds which were forecast to swing into the west. The run down to Taunga Island was straightforward except for a charted reef over which we could probably pass (18 feet on the charts), but which we would rather not. We sighted the reef easily from the foredeck despite a grey sky that made it more difficult to see differences in water colour. It looks like some coral heads have grown on the reef since the chart was made as we saw a couple of patches of brown water over the more comforting green - light browns should definitely be avoided! We passed the reef a hundred meters off in deep water.
When we arrived at the point behind which the anchorage was located on the south east side of Taunga, it was clear that this was going to be a tricky place to enter. the entire anchorage was a shallow plane of sand with scattered coral heads. The wind was now about 12-15 knots from dead aft, so we rolled up most of the jib and finally furled it entirely, Rani steering us in under motor, while I directed us around the coral heads from the foredeck. Even with minimal power we were going too fast for comfort and as the water shoaled to only a meter below the keel, Rani made it clear that this was not a place she wanted to stay. We had one of our 'discussions', but in the end Rani's common sense won out and we hoisted a 2-reefed main and beat back up to our old anchorage at Tapana.
Saturday, October 27, 2012
Food
I am inspired to write a little about food today at 'Chez Ladybug'.
We breakfasted today on home-made scones. I attempted to re-create the marvelous scones, which I used to enjoy at 'Satisfaction Feast' - a Buddhist restaurant in Halifax. When I was straight out of school and trying to find a position in the working world, I used to visit this place a couple of times a week, meeting a friend or my girlfriend there around lunch-time. The restaurant had a lovely atmosphere with skylights and plants and photos of Sri Chimnoy lifting hundreds of pounds above his head with one hand. The Waitresses tolerated a penurious regular who nursed his coffee and scone for far too long. The food was very good - the scones in particular offered both delightful taste and good value - large and weighty, yet moist and beautifully flavored. I am sorry to say that today's imitation did not come close, but I will keep trying.
Lunch was a re-heated carnivorous stir-fry - Rani's veggie one with a can of Kirkland chicken added. This canned chicken is delicious - completely different from the canned meats I used to buy for cruising up in Canada, which all seemed to taste the same - halfway between over-cooked salty ham and spam. The Kirkland chicken actually tastes and even looks sort of like chicken. For desert there was a fruit cup made from fresh local mangoes and bananas.
Supper was tamale pie - made from a recipe that we were given by our dear friends Ardy and Marv who cruised with us in Mexico on their sailing boat, 'Odyssey'. Every time we make this dish we think of times we shared in the Sea of Cortez. We now make the pie in a cast iron skillet on the stove top and it tastes as good as when done in the oven but uses much less propane. Tamale pie is spicy and made with corn, corn meal, black olives, and tomato sauce - delicious served with greens or a side salad and washed down with a robust red wine or Mexican beer.
We breakfasted today on home-made scones. I attempted to re-create the marvelous scones, which I used to enjoy at 'Satisfaction Feast' - a Buddhist restaurant in Halifax. When I was straight out of school and trying to find a position in the working world, I used to visit this place a couple of times a week, meeting a friend or my girlfriend there around lunch-time. The restaurant had a lovely atmosphere with skylights and plants and photos of Sri Chimnoy lifting hundreds of pounds above his head with one hand. The Waitresses tolerated a penurious regular who nursed his coffee and scone for far too long. The food was very good - the scones in particular offered both delightful taste and good value - large and weighty, yet moist and beautifully flavored. I am sorry to say that today's imitation did not come close, but I will keep trying.
Lunch was a re-heated carnivorous stir-fry - Rani's veggie one with a can of Kirkland chicken added. This canned chicken is delicious - completely different from the canned meats I used to buy for cruising up in Canada, which all seemed to taste the same - halfway between over-cooked salty ham and spam. The Kirkland chicken actually tastes and even looks sort of like chicken. For desert there was a fruit cup made from fresh local mangoes and bananas.
Supper was tamale pie - made from a recipe that we were given by our dear friends Ardy and Marv who cruised with us in Mexico on their sailing boat, 'Odyssey'. Every time we make this dish we think of times we shared in the Sea of Cortez. We now make the pie in a cast iron skillet on the stove top and it tastes as good as when done in the oven but uses much less propane. Tamale pie is spicy and made with corn, corn meal, black olives, and tomato sauce - delicious served with greens or a side salad and washed down with a robust red wine or Mexican beer.
Thursday, October 25, 2012
More reading
Two recent books I would recommend:
Economics Without Illusions by Joseph Heath - looks at fallacies that pervade and distort our understanding of modern economics. From the table of contents:
PART I. RIGHT–WING FALLACIES
1. CAPITALISM IS NATURAL - Why the market actually depends on government
2. INCENTIVES MATTER -… except when they don't
3. THE FRICTIONLESS PLANE FALLACY - Why more competition is not always better
4. TAXES ARE TOO HIGH - The myth of the government as consumer
5. UNCOMPETITIVE IN EVERYTHING -Why international competitiveness doesn't matter
6. PERSONAL RESPONSIBILITY - How the right misunderstands moral hazard
PART II. LEFT-WING FALLACIES
7. THE JUST PRICE FALLACY - The temptation to fiddle with prices, and why it should be resisted
8. THE "PSYCHOPATHIC" PURSUIT OF PROFIT - Why making money is not so bad after all
9. CAPITALISM IS DOOMED - Why "the system" is unlikely to collapse (despite appearances to the contrary)
10. EQUAL PAY - Why some jobs must suck, in every aspect
11. SHARING THE WEALTH - Why capitalism produces so few capitalists
12. LEVELING DOWN - The wrong way to promote equality
I found the second part to be most interesting because as a left-leaning person, I tend to be blind to these fallacies while quite aware of those of the right :) This book opened my eyes and I would highly recommend it. Interestingly, it was written by a Canadian Philosophy professor who has studied the issues as an outsider. Perhaps this is why it reveals more than some of the works by 'insiders'. Heath does not have complete solutions to the issues that confront any society that strives for a just but effective economic system. However, he does a great job explaining these issues and how governments have tried to deal with them.
Voyage for Madmen by Peter Nichols - chronicles the first solo around the world non-stop sailing race. In the mid-60's a small group of amateur sailors set off from the UK to see who would be the first to sail around the world. There was to be a prize also for the fastest passage. The book does a better job than any previous account I have read to get into the minds of the people taking part. It is a well told story and one of interest not just to sailors but to anyone who is curious about the limits of human endurance. The characters, in particular Robin Knox-Johnston, Bernard Moitessier, and Donald Crowhurst are the stuff of legend. I have read Moitessier's and Johnston's accounts as well as "The Strange Last Voyage of Donald Crowhurst", but this book pulls it all together.
Economics Without Illusions by Joseph Heath - looks at fallacies that pervade and distort our understanding of modern economics. From the table of contents:
PART I. RIGHT–WING FALLACIES
1. CAPITALISM IS NATURAL - Why the market actually depends on government
2. INCENTIVES MATTER -… except when they don't
3. THE FRICTIONLESS PLANE FALLACY - Why more competition is not always better
4. TAXES ARE TOO HIGH - The myth of the government as consumer
5. UNCOMPETITIVE IN EVERYTHING -Why international competitiveness doesn't matter
6. PERSONAL RESPONSIBILITY - How the right misunderstands moral hazard
PART II. LEFT-WING FALLACIES
7. THE JUST PRICE FALLACY - The temptation to fiddle with prices, and why it should be resisted
8. THE "PSYCHOPATHIC" PURSUIT OF PROFIT - Why making money is not so bad after all
9. CAPITALISM IS DOOMED - Why "the system" is unlikely to collapse (despite appearances to the contrary)
10. EQUAL PAY - Why some jobs must suck, in every aspect
11. SHARING THE WEALTH - Why capitalism produces so few capitalists
12. LEVELING DOWN - The wrong way to promote equality
I found the second part to be most interesting because as a left-leaning person, I tend to be blind to these fallacies while quite aware of those of the right :) This book opened my eyes and I would highly recommend it. Interestingly, it was written by a Canadian Philosophy professor who has studied the issues as an outsider. Perhaps this is why it reveals more than some of the works by 'insiders'. Heath does not have complete solutions to the issues that confront any society that strives for a just but effective economic system. However, he does a great job explaining these issues and how governments have tried to deal with them.
Voyage for Madmen by Peter Nichols - chronicles the first solo around the world non-stop sailing race. In the mid-60's a small group of amateur sailors set off from the UK to see who would be the first to sail around the world. There was to be a prize also for the fastest passage. The book does a better job than any previous account I have read to get into the minds of the people taking part. It is a well told story and one of interest not just to sailors but to anyone who is curious about the limits of human endurance. The characters, in particular Robin Knox-Johnston, Bernard Moitessier, and Donald Crowhurst are the stuff of legend. I have read Moitessier's and Johnston's accounts as well as "The Strange Last Voyage of Donald Crowhurst", but this book pulls it all together.
Mariner's Cave
Yesterday we made an afternoon trip in Ladybug to Swallows and Mariner's caves with friends on Picara and a Moorings charter catamaran that is sharing the anchorage with us us. Mariner's cave has been on my to-visit list for more than a decade - since I read about it in the book, "Trekka Round the World", by John Guzzwell. Guzzwell sailed a tiny wooden sailboat that he had built himself around the world in the early 1950's. He had visited Vava'u and Mariner's cave on that voyage and his description of his trip to the cave makes great reading.
Things were a little different here when Guzzwell arrived. Because the cave entrance is under water and impossible to find without local knowledge, he approached the cave across the island of Nuapapu with about 50 locals and a fisherman guide named Benny. We had a GPS waypoint, which allowed us to approach from the sea. His guide, Benny, had lost his arm when the dynamite he was fishing with blew up in his hand. Judging by the quality of the corals here, dynamite is no longer used for that purpose in the islands. The Tongans who accompanied Guzzwell had also never seen snorkeling flippers before and were delighted by how much easier it made it to swim.
Some things have not changed, however. You still have to swim down into a huge dark opening with no clear idea of how deep or far you need to go because the cave is completely sealed from the outside world and hence unlit. It was quite rough off the cliffs that run along this coast, with the waves reflecting pushing up a two foot chop. The friends we had on board Ladybug were reluctant to try the entrance. However, Falcon, our athletic friend off 'Beau Soleil' had paddled over in his outrigger canoe and he pointed out where the entrance was and encouraged us to give it a try (he had swum into the cave a couple of weeks ago). I made the first attempt, taking several deep breathes before following Falcon into the black depths, while the others kept Ladybug hove to off the cliffs. You swim down about 8 feet and along maybe 12 or 15 feet into the cave - no problem if you are used to shallow free dives while snorkeling, but still intimidating the first time.
Once inside the cave it was exactly as described by Guzzwell - a lovely blue light from the entrance lit the cave once your eyes became adjusted. The cave is quite large - about as big as a small church with a 30 foot ceiling from which hang ranks of small stalactites. Because there is no land exit, when the swell rises, your ears pop from the pressure change and as the pressure oscillates, water vapour condenses and clears periodically creating a mist that makes it feel like you are losing your vision. Leaving the cave is easier because the tunnel is backlit by the outside light. The best time to visit is in the afternoon when the sun brightens the entrance. I swam out upside down admiring the roof of the entrance tunnel.
Once outside I had to swim back to the boat to convince our friends to join us. Mike from Picara and Dan and Monica from a Moorings charter catamaran eventually swam over and I entered the cave with them a second time. They had no problems entering either and we floated around inside together marvelling at the quiet and unusual beauty of the place.
We sailed Ladybug back to Port Maurelle picking up a mooring under sail (thanks to the able assistance of Mike and Marny on Picara). A delightful ending to a trip I have looked forward to for so many years.
Things were a little different here when Guzzwell arrived. Because the cave entrance is under water and impossible to find without local knowledge, he approached the cave across the island of Nuapapu with about 50 locals and a fisherman guide named Benny. We had a GPS waypoint, which allowed us to approach from the sea. His guide, Benny, had lost his arm when the dynamite he was fishing with blew up in his hand. Judging by the quality of the corals here, dynamite is no longer used for that purpose in the islands. The Tongans who accompanied Guzzwell had also never seen snorkeling flippers before and were delighted by how much easier it made it to swim.
Some things have not changed, however. You still have to swim down into a huge dark opening with no clear idea of how deep or far you need to go because the cave is completely sealed from the outside world and hence unlit. It was quite rough off the cliffs that run along this coast, with the waves reflecting pushing up a two foot chop. The friends we had on board Ladybug were reluctant to try the entrance. However, Falcon, our athletic friend off 'Beau Soleil' had paddled over in his outrigger canoe and he pointed out where the entrance was and encouraged us to give it a try (he had swum into the cave a couple of weeks ago). I made the first attempt, taking several deep breathes before following Falcon into the black depths, while the others kept Ladybug hove to off the cliffs. You swim down about 8 feet and along maybe 12 or 15 feet into the cave - no problem if you are used to shallow free dives while snorkeling, but still intimidating the first time.
Once inside the cave it was exactly as described by Guzzwell - a lovely blue light from the entrance lit the cave once your eyes became adjusted. The cave is quite large - about as big as a small church with a 30 foot ceiling from which hang ranks of small stalactites. Because there is no land exit, when the swell rises, your ears pop from the pressure change and as the pressure oscillates, water vapour condenses and clears periodically creating a mist that makes it feel like you are losing your vision. Leaving the cave is easier because the tunnel is backlit by the outside light. The best time to visit is in the afternoon when the sun brightens the entrance. I swam out upside down admiring the roof of the entrance tunnel.
Once outside I had to swim back to the boat to convince our friends to join us. Mike from Picara and Dan and Monica from a Moorings charter catamaran eventually swam over and I entered the cave with them a second time. They had no problems entering either and we floated around inside together marvelling at the quiet and unusual beauty of the place.
We sailed Ladybug back to Port Maurelle picking up a mooring under sail (thanks to the able assistance of Mike and Marny on Picara). A delightful ending to a trip I have looked forward to for so many years.
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