A new sport - Atoll Spotting

Toby keeping an eye out. 

With about one day to go until we get to Tahiti, we decided to explore an atoll or two before arriving. 

An atoll was once an island. A volcanic island. As it sinks, the only remnant of the island is the ring of coral reef that used to surround the it pre-sinking. After the land sinks, the corals keep growing until you are left with a ring of living coral that has formed on the bones of ancient corals.

Here's a helpful image. 

A typical atoll has a lagoon in the ring of coral where the land used to be. 

Whenever the Sea Dragon sails within close proximity to shore, we have to be very careful that we look with our eyes at what's around as well as check the depth monitor for meters until the bottom. The instruments could fail. There could be something in the water in front of us, etc. 

Dale climbs the mast like the pro he is. 

Through the trees to the right of this photograph live the "others". I'm convinced of it. For all of you LOST fans, you don't have to be dead to find yourself close to the "island".

But seriously, there were small houses with open doors, boats pulled up out front, evidence of people having just been there, and not a person in sight. However, I can guarantee you that they saw us. 

All we got from them was radio silence, literally. 

Clive keeping a look out. 

OK, see this? That dock-like structure in the middle of this photo? Yup. Further evidence of...human activity. I think that this atoll was a French Special Forces training camp. Anyway, we guessed that larger supply ships could tie up to this structure so that smaller skiffs from the islands inside the lagoon could come out to get the goods. We looked for a long time for a way into the sea green lagoon where we all desperately wanted to swim, but found none. This was probably a good thing.

Jess turning the lens on me. Colleen and Jason in the background enjoying the view. 

With storms all around us, and no way into the lagoon, we decided cast off.

These small, gusty systems piled up on the horizon in the exact direction that we needed to go. I was less than pleased. I thought, really? WE ARE ALMOST F&*(^G THERE! DO I HAVE TO GET WET AND SICK ONE LAST TIME! 

Apparently so. A rite of passage before we got to our final destination. 

We'd had pretty good weather, it's true. And I guess some of us had a bloody good time in the rain. 

I however, burst into tears while trying to help Jeff make dinner. I just couldn't take it. 

I was out of juice. Maybe it is because I was so close to being done. 

That old adage about falling apart during the last mile of the race proved true for me. 

Looking back at this picture today, I could feel poorly about not partaking in the fun. And I loved the people I met, but honestly, I still feel like I am glad I'm done without a shred of regret for not having "lived it up" more. 

We all dealt with life on the boat differently. Clive was made for it. Some of us liked the constant movement from place to place. I now know thought that while I am proud that I went, I would never sign up for part 2. 

While my friends are smiling for this shot, I'm thinking, "Could we just f**&g get there already!"

This is for the birds...

We pointed the Sea Dragon toward the shores of Tahiti once more, and waved goodbye to Pitcairn.

When over the back of the boat, a blue footed booby (as best as I could tell) came out to send us off. 

The following photographs are more pictures than you may have ever seen of these tropical birds. 

And more than you are likely to ever see again. 

Excuse my inability to edit down the selection. When I was on the boat, even close to an island, I felt the presence of any animal that showed themselves to us was special. 

It's a big, big ocean and an even bigger sky. Any bird, or mammal that ventures close to us clunky humans may do so by choice. 

This post is dedicated to all of the land, sea and sky animals making a home somewhere out in the deep blue pacific. 

By the way, we only saw a pod of dolphins when we finally sailed into the port of Papeete, Tahiti. Perhaps this is just unlucky timing. We did cross 5,000 plus miles of ocean though.

We had a pole out behind the Sea Dragon from Easter Island to Tahiti. 

We didn't catch one fish. 

How sad is it that I have to add that we got several strikes on the line? Again, we could have had a faulty rig (but don't tell Toby that), or we could have....I'm just not sure. 

Even sailing through nutrient poor waters shortly after Easter Island, we should have caught plenty of fish once we crossed into French Polynesia. Throw a stone, hit an atoll around there. Reefs around atolls and islands allow for life to congregate and thrive. 

The fact remains, we did not catch a fish after crossing 3,000 miles +/- across the Southern Pacific Ocean. I can't think of any fact that disturbs me more from our expedition. 

We never saw a whale once we left the coast of Chile. 

To answer my friend Harry's question:

There was plenty to smile about, but many experiences that left me with a heavy heart and new inspiration for directing my energies to help the ocean. I will be processing, and remembering this trip for a lifetime. 

Pitcairn Island

Pitcairn Island came into view early the following morning after we left Henderson. By the time the sun was high in the sky, Jess, Kit and I were happy to be sailing towards another island to explore. Two islands in two days! What luxury!

The story of the HMS Bounty goes something like this. The Bounty crew mutinied, sending Captain Blythe, his first mate and one more lad into a skiff with a sextant, water and a shred of hope. Next, they turned the Bounty back towards Tahiti where they took women, children and Tahitian men on board against their will and headed back to paradise. Once on shore, they burned the Bounty in the bay so that they would be safe from the Royal Navy that would inevitably come looking for them.

 They found paradise here. Here? Here. 

This rag-tag crew lasted two years until most of them were dead from feuding, a few still clung to their hiding places in perilous caves, and the last handful of them struggled on to become the descendants that were on their way out to us as we waited on anchor in Bounty Bay. 

The boat plowed through the water with a few horse powered engine propelling it forward from the stern. The work horses of the island. 

Colleen asked me, "Is the dock swaying?"

"No, it's poured concrete. We're the one's that are swaying."

"Come on. The dock has to be attached."

I shook my head. "Nope," I said as I rocked back and forth on solid ground. "It's us."

Welcome to Pitcairn Island. Population approximately 40. One jacked up gulf chart to ferry islanders up and down the steep terrain for every 3 citizens. 

Really? 

The Sea Dragon sat placidly in their bay while we struggled up the hill to explore "town".

Their golf carts had burly off-roading tires, but how fast could they go?

There weren't any cars for thousands of nautical miles. 

Once we were in their town square, they had HMS Bounty artifacts proudly on display. Right next to their Seventh Day Adventist Church service that was going on next door. 

Don't know what the A is for....but the Bounty's cannon none the less. 

Most of us followed the trail heading up to one of the famous Bounty mutineer's cave. So what if it's twelve noon? We were up for a challenge. 

Kit strode ahead through the tropical tree grove. 

Local fishing grounds. 

One word comes to mind: paranoid. I know that as mutineers, they would be hung if any of them were ever found. I guess you had a pretty good look at the wrong side of the island from the only safe bay if you made it up to the cave alive. But weren't there other places to hide?

I headed down to the mayor's house instead of joining my crew now scaling the shale rock hillside to chat with Christian's ghost still on lookout. His wife was baking chocolate chip cookies. Clearly, an American. She was originally from Southern California. The Long Beach area. 

"Did you bring any Blue Cheese?" she asked some of our crew when we'd first stepped ashore. 

Hard place to live if you're a foodie. I guess you have to ask. Their next cruise ship wasn't due in until November, 2011. 

We stayed anchored in their bay for two days. Day two, some of us stayed on board the Sea Dragon to snorkel on the wreck of the Bounty. We found fragmented ship planks, an old iron gate, and other miscellaneous evidence of a sunken yacht, but who's to know if it was the Bounty. 

We also swam around this tiny Motu, or island, and saw a small population of reef fish scattered around the rocks. But not one shark. Not when a local sets lines to catch the ones living in the bay. He uses their teeth in Pitcairn Souvenirs for the cruise ships. 

Henderson Island Recap

I expected white sand, bits of coral, and perhaps some discarded fishing gear that had been lost overboard from the boating industry.


I did not expect a Panteen PRO-Vitamin plastic cap.


I did not expect to swim with Reef Sharks, which was incredible! But I would have expected there to be a whole lot more of them if I had thought about it.


I did not expect to turn on my camera, swim into shore and have ZERO fish cross the frame. 


Henderson Island is a UNESCO World Heritage Site. A title that in my mind conjures up the false pretense that this place is safe.  There might be a lot of pillaged natural habitats in the world, but with a stamp like World Heritage Site, my god this island has to be left alone!


I was wrong. 


I saw direct evidence of over fishing, trash dumping and shark fining right in front of my eyes in our eight-ish hours anchored off of its shores. 


These are my observations. Take them or leave them. 


But days later while on Pitcairn Island, I heard stories from the islanders hailing fishing boats on their horizon that were not supposed to be trawling in the many thousand miles of Marine Protected Areas around their coasts. 


"What happens when you contact them?" I said.


"They cut their lights and run."

'Cut and run to Henderson Island' I thought.

"We can't enforce the MPA since we have no boats to get to them in time. And we know they don't leave the area."


Titles and laws without enforcement mean little. Especially out in the middle of the South Pacific Ocean.

Where have all the fish gone?

I turned my camera on and swam into shore.

Not a single fish swam through the frame. Fish SHOULD have been hitting me in the face.

I expected a lot more fish than trash.

Fun in the water off Henderson Island

Jess grabbed the camera at the end of the day as Garen and I tried to defy being weighted to the sky by diving down just enough to have a total blast.



Jess Cramp is up to AH-mazing things. One person, one year, a whole lot of good everywhere she goes.        DESTINATION GLOBAL GOOD 

There should have been a lot more sharks...

One thing as clear as the trash washed up on this isolated beach was the half dozen reef sharks we saw were there should have been a whole hell of a lot more. 

I never felt a twinge of threat watching these placid animals circle below the Sea Dragon. Sure, it was exhilarating to be in the water with them. I'd never swum with reef sharks before. But they showed only curious and calm behavior toward us. It was one of my favorite experiences of our entire expedition. 

Henderson Island Videos - birds, isolation, and trash

Our tour starts with trash...

and moves on to birds. We come across a Blue Footed Booby. These tropical birds got their name because when English Sailors came up to them they showed no fear of humans, making an easy catch. Many a booby ended up in the pot. 

We can't seem to escape the presence of trash on this isolated beach. 

Plastic is for the birds, literally. 

We also managed to husk some coconuts. 

Toby scaled a tree. 





Ultimately, Henderson Island was amazing. 

Henderson Island - where there should be lots of fish

Sometime in the early morning we saw our first glimpse of Henderson Island.

Henderson is in the Pitcairn Island Chain.  Pitcairn is famous for being the actual island where the mutineers from the H.M.S. Bounty fled to after steeling men, women and children from Tahiti. But like my friend said, "You have to go to sleep sometime." One mutineer was left after only two short years on their island paradise. More on all of that in an upcoming post. 

For now, I am looking forward to a day in the water. A day to explore the most beach I've ever been to. I have many short videos that I will be uploading that capture what we saw. 

There were many wildly beautiful and unexpected things to be seen as we sailed closer to French Polynesia. But on Henderson Island, we saw way too much plastic crap, and far too few fish to even begin to come to terms with the disturbing contrasts. 

Videos coming soon. 

I look at a lot of scenery that's exactly like this. Change the clouds slightly, vary the light and voila, you have my "back yard" for the time being. I can't type on my computer, or read for more than a few minutes at a time because of sea sickness (even with a patch of medication) so this is it. 

Not a bad picture to stare at. And really, a good way to spend my time. Life is boiled down the the essence of simplicity on the boat. 

Unless of course I get busy doing something else, like cutting Clive's hair so that when he goes home to his wife and kids in a few weeks he's not too shaggy. 

And then there are the friends I am making. This is Jess. She is AH-MAZING, (to use a common term of hers.) GO check her out at DESTINATION GLOBAL GOOD. 

This woman is seeing what she can do with a year, her own savvy and a small savings account to change the world. Her focus - all things water. Right now, she is taking the Cook Islands by storm setting up shark sanctuaries, mapping coral reefs, and getting certified as a dive master. 

How many days in the week are there? Seriously, I love this woman, admire her courage and spirit and would like you to leave my blog right now, no really, go, check Jess out. I'll forgive you if you get pulled away from this post, or welcome you to come right back. 

Then there are people like Jason and Colleen, co-founders of Stand For Tomorrow. 

What a good idea! We need to do that, think about how our actions, or in-actions impact the world of tomorrow and the future inhabitants of it. They live in Washington D.C.. Jason is an "rocket scientist", no really he IS an Aerospace Engineer, and Colleen is a writer, and a teacher. 

I feel so privileged to have gotten to spend time with people like J and Colleen and hope to help them with Stand For Tomorrow in any way that I can! 

Please go read about them right now. I'll be here when you get back. 

Excuse me for repeating myself if you've read this quote in a previous post, but here it is again. "However big you imagine the ocean to be, it's bigger." - Wallace J Nichols, marine biologist, ocean activist and personal hero of mine.

I can verify this quote from recent personal experience. 

So with the above quote in mind, when you see a bird fly out of the "wild blue yonder" you stop and take notice. 

And then when the day ends with a sunset like this, you stop and say thank you.

West across the South Pacific

The mast on the Sea Dragon is 95 feet tall. 

We are back at it. Only three days of research needs to be done because then we will be far enough outside of the range of the gyre that further sampling will not be needed. But you can also tell from the contents of the trawls that you've gone out of range of the South Pacific Gyre because there is hardly any plastic bits in the samples when we pull them in. In fact, on the first leg of the trip from Chile, we were wll into the gyre when we started seeing anything but plankton, jellies and other blob-ular life forms in the nets. 

When you are on watch though, one of your duties is to pull the trawls in and out of the water. Grappling with the high speed trawl, even at less than 3 knots, takes more than one pair of hands. 

It doesn't take long for Garen to get back to a full beard. I know the number of grey hairs in it surprises him. But I think he looks handsome. I can hear the collective AWWWH....

The rope in the photo is a more flexible variety than any of the other lines on the Sea Dragon on purpose. On the Atlantic Ocean crossing from South Africa, the line on the trawl got wrapped around the gear box for the engine and pulled it almost entirely off of the back of the boat. They had to use the sails to get home from that point on. They were half way across. And for the first 72+ hours there was no wind. Welcome to life on a sailboat. 

We see the moon, Venus and the Sun rise and fall. We watch the stars come out or sail beneath a dark blanket of night when the clouds have taken over.

I never get sick of watching the ever changing sky. 

Every night after dinner, one of us "presents" for the evening. Clive is taking the new crew through all the instruments on the navigation station. He's already given Sailing 101 on deck. Now we are all down below doing our best to remember all of the bells and whistles necessary that run the boat. 

I admire Clive's state of mind when it comes to living on the boat for long periods of time. He would say (and I am liberally paraphrasing here) that the news doesn't matter, that you have to find things to do with your time, and that your time is what you make of it. That life on board shows people who they are and the dynamics of the crew are molded out of the restless, or serene energy that every one of us brings to a given situation. He loves the simplicity of life at sea. From his point of view, I can see why.