20 January 2003 -- Phuket, Thailand
Hi Folks,
Well the news of the day -- and of every day
around here -- is planning, preparing, and provisioning to cross the Indian
Ocean and Red Sea. At various times and with various stops planned, about
100 sailboats are departing Thailand this month for the Mediterranean.
We plan to remain in radio contact with many of them throughout the 3-month,
6,000-mile voyage; and we will rendezvous with and travel within visual contact
of half
a dozen good friends for the segment in the Gulf of Aden and along the Yemen coast. With
everyone preparing for a similar voyage, we meet someone every day with new
Indian Ocean information, radio net frequencies, weather-gathering tips, anchorage notes, new
"finds" of resources for long-term provisioning in Phuket, itineraries
to discuss (Oman or Yemen? Aden or Djibouti? Massawa, or bypass it
if we have southerlies?), equipment upgrades, political updates, and anti-pirate strategies.
We in turn share our own many hours of research and planning. In light of
the world political situation, the mood is cautious but upbeat, concerned but
prepared. Most of the Americans hope to make it through the Suez Canal and
into the Mediterranean Sea before war becomes imminent, but -- on the other hand
-- an enhanced American military presence in the area can only mean increased
safety for the voyaging fleet.
As for Heartsong III, Alan and I will be leaving for
our first stop, either Sri Lanka or the Maldives, within the week. For weather reasons, a voyage
from Southeast Asia to the Med usually begins in mid- to late January and should be
completed ideally by early April. So we're more or less on schedule for a
change.
And we're more or less ready. Heartsong III is stocked with 100 days of
provisions (food & drink, spare parts, fuel and extra fuel and emergency
spare extra fuel, supplies, new DVDs, Diet Cokes, bakshish,
chocolate, extra chocolate, and emergency spare extra chocolate). Charts
and cruising guides have been studied. All crucial equipment is working
(knock wood). Seas are moderate. Winds are 10-15 knots from the
nor'-nor'east.
Course is due west. [Cue Rawhide music.] Wagons
. . . ho-oh
See you in Greece. Love, Liza
6 March 2003 -- Massawa, Eritrea
Hi Folks,
Where to begin. Since leaving Thailand, we have sailed 3700
miles. Twenty-six of the last 31 days have been spent at sea, punctuated
by a glorious stop in the Maldive Islands for a few days of recreation
in the crystal clear Indian Ocean. On February 27th we had a successful
mid-sea rendezvous with four other American cruising boats and one Canadian boat to
form our convoy for the piracy "danger zones" of the Gulf of Aden and Red
Sea.
Happily, the convoy was 100% successful. Our lifelong thanks go to
sailing vessels Tatanka, Poppy I, Piquet, Sea Witch, and Nighthawk, who traveled
from the rendezvous 100 miles east of Socotra all the way to the Red Sea coast
of Eritrea in organized formation -- slower boats in front, faster boats behind,
in a 1-2-2-1 pattern approximately 1/4 to 1/2 mile apart for 8 days and nights.
For those who have never sailed in such close company on the high seas, let me
just say: THAT'S REALLY HARD TO DO -- especially with only 2 crew on most
boats.
But it was definitely worth it.
Smackdab in the middle of the
Gulf of Aden danger zone, we did indeed have a run-in with three boats answering
the description of previous pirate attacks -- two local fishing boats with blue
tarps wrapped around their bows to cover registration numbers, plus one
"boxy-looking" boat. As they approached the port bow of the
convoy, our faster boats sped up (furling our headsails and turning on
engines for increased maneuverability) to come even with the slower boats up
front. The starboard-side boats jibed to close the small distance to port.
With Nighthawk, Piquet, and Heartsong III now within a boat length
running side by side, catching up fast with leader Tatanka (and the rest of
the convoy closing up quickly from the wings), we manned the decks. Our
armed boats had shotguns loaded and ready to fire warning shots in return should
warning shots have been fired at us (per the typical attack). Flares were
at the ready; radios were set to emergency frequencies.
I am happy to report that the pirates, if pirates they were, changed course
to divert away from us and continue on their way. (If they were legitimate
fishermen, we must have scared the pants off the poor guys!)
I am less happy to report, however, that some few hours later, a mere eleven
miles away, a solo boat was fired on, boarded, and robbed by three boats
answering the same description. The next day, a more spread-out group of
five sailboats was fired on by three boats (including at least one
"boxy-looking" boat). Almost every day on the radio since
arrival in Eritrea, we hear of other attacks or close encounters. We were
quite lucky.
And there were many more exciting events, including (1) a midnight head-on
close encounter with a US carrier group traveling under apparent radio silence,
who -- after we made increasingly anxious "all ships" radio calls
announcing our presence and position -- eventually sent out helicopters to look
us over before changing the course of one wing of the group to avoid plowing us
under; (2) contact with a US military supply ship -- who answered the radio with
the most reassuring all-American voice we had any of us heard in a long time;
(3) crossing congested shipping lanes in 12-foot seas and 30-knot winds near the coast of
Djibouti; and (4) a full gale with rough seas in our second day into the Red
Sea.
But here we all are safely in Massawa, Eritrea. It's hot and dry here;
sand and dust cake the hair and make the air thick and scratchy on the throat.
The only colors are shades of brown and gray.
Herds of camels roam the roadside. Buildings are bombed out from decades
of a war for independence with neighboring countries. Armed soldiers
patrol the streets, which are mainly rubble. People smile, greet us in
English, introduce themselves, and take us by the arm to show us the market or
their cousin's tiny cafe. Small children herd goats into the desert that
crowds the edges of town. A curly-headed ten-year-old self-described
"businessman" sells packs of gum and cigarettes. Women in
traditional clothing carry firewood on their backs and are bent old beyond their
years. Ships in the main port unload endless sacks of grain marked
"USA RELIEF." In short, it feels a bit like a National Geographic
special and a bit like a commercial to sponsor foster children. We depart for Sudan in the next few days, after leaving behind
medicine,
many pairs of reading glasses, old Levis, photographs, children's books, crayons
and toys, and -- by request -- CDs of "American rock-and-roll" (!).
We're certainly not in Kansas anymore, but we feel good here -- safe and
positive and among friends.
This just in: Alan has returned from having coffee with a local man in his
family’s home, which by the way was built during the Ottoman Empire.
"Having coffee" involves choosing one’s beans, watching them be
roasted over coals and then ground; getting frankincense wafted
one’s way; and then drinking a thick, sweetened tiny demitasse of the actual
liquid. Needless to say, Alan LOVED it.
Happy birthday to Kurt, Judy, and Lauren; and a special (late) HAPPY 50TH to
Trisha. Love, Liza
26 April 2003 -- Marmaris, Turkey
Hi All,
This is just a quick note to say that last Tuesday we completed transit of
the Suez Canal (whew!) and then did a quick 3-day crossing of the Mediterranean
to Marmaris, Turkey (near the island of Rhodes). We plan to stay in this
area for several weeks. Sailing up the Red Sea was every bit as difficult
as advertised, and we are looking forward to some R&R. In the next few
days, I plan to post lots of photographs of the Maldives and Red Sea
countries. For now, we're cleaning all the sand and salt off the
boat and enjoying the beautiful Turkish coastal scenery. Let us hear from
you! Much love, Liza
3 May 2003 -- Marmaris, Turkey
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Hi Folks,
We're loving marina life in
Marmaris -- unlimited hot showers and dozens of romantic waterfront restaurants
in a mountainous bay that looks like a movie backdrop. Turkey is
beautiful. Before
the memories get too hazy, though, I'd like to relate a few things about our Red
Sea passage -- the most difficult leg of the circumnavigation.
First, most of the Red Sea and
Gulf of Suez coastline is basically Lawrence of Arabia desert -- sand on sand on more
sand. We had some amazing
sandstorms. One day in Egypt when the boat was berthed snugly (thank
goodness) at
the only marina on our route, the wind got up into cyclone territory.
Sand blew across the open land in opaque sheets. It buzzed like a
power-saw. It would undoubtedly have blasted the skin off our faces had we had
the energy to fight our way off the boat. On even a normal weather day, powdery sand
would coat our decks and skin (and probably our lungs). My pockets
would be full of the stuff. After six weeks in northeast Africa, I am
quite sure that Islamic female attire was originally designed to discourage not
lust but dust. It is eminently practical for the conditions, and I usually
adopted a facsimile of it myself -- in part out of respect for local custom, in
part for self-protection, but mostly to keep my hair clean.
In short, I no longer wonder how the desert
could swallow up huge ancient tombs and monuments. The
only mystery is how you'd find your car if you left it by the roadside
overnight.
They must sweep the pyramids every couple of weeks
to avoid losing them altogether.
And speaking of pyramids, if you
ever have the chance to take a cruise down the Nile, go go go go go. Giza and Memphis
and Luxor and Aswan and everything in between are as magical a view into ancient
Egypt as I
have always imagined. Watching the banks of
the Nile go by day after day -- even from a tour boat! -- was a dream come true.
But back to the Red Sea: A second major memory
-- and please forgive my whining -- is that the winds and seas made for
tough sailing. During our passage planning phase, I shrugged off warnings that the
steep, short chop of the Red Sea combined with gusting headwinds
would mean many no-go days and sometimes no-go weeks. No-go? No way, I
reasoned. We have a nice
big engine and a weatherly boat. If the wind is at an awkward angle we'll either
slowly tack our way up -- no big deal -- or, worst case, turn on the engine and
power into it. We routinely -- routinely -- sail
in 35-knot gale-force winds and high seas. The mere 25 knots of nor'west wind typical in the
top half of the Red Sea wouldn't be a
problem for us. No worries (smug smile).
Hah. Double hah. On
two occasions -- two because we're slow learners -- we actually turned
back and ran for shelter in those 25-knot winds because (1) we could make
no progress by any method whatsoever in the steep headseas, and (2) we were beginning
to be concerned about equipment damage what with the pounding and a kind of inverse broaching, and
(3) we were exhausted and wet and cranky. It was painful to turn
back and give up the pitifully few miles we had made in so very many
hours of hard sailing, but it was the right decision both times. After the second retreat,
we were finally wise enough to stay put until the
weather was favorable enough to allow some halfway decent northward progress.
Humility, patience and stoicism, in roughly equal parts, are the keys to success
in the Red Sea. The voyagers who started out with those qualities fared far
better than those of us who had to develop them along the way.
Did the Iraqi War place us at any
greater risk? Who knows. But thank you to everyone who wrote
expressing concern for our whereabouts and safety. Our thoughts were with
everyone at home and with our armed forces. At night we saw missile launches in the eastern sky off the Saudi Arabian
coast. And needless to say, the waters were full of military
vessels. The VHF radio hummed with military communications day and night. We kept our
mouths shut, our heads down, and stayed out of the way. We did perhaps
feel a greater need to keep moving, to get out of the area expeditiously, in
part to remove ourselves from any possible situation from which we would require
rescuing by folks with more important things to do elsewhere, and in part out of
knowing that our family would worry as long as we were there. Although we
did meet with some anti-Americanism in the Islamic
countries we visited, we more often encountered a gracious welcome -- and sometimes a
warm and friendly welcome, which was all the more appreciated under our
vulnerable circumstances. The Egyptian government, for one, is clearly dedicated to
protecting its visitors. When six of us ventured a trip out to the Giza
pyramids area, we were stunned to realize that the police car that was sometimes
ahead of us and sometimes behind us, lights flashing and sirens wailing, was in
fact our escort for the day! (We assume our taxi driver notified
the authorities that he was carrying American tourists?) The policemen even stopped
and waited for us to have lunch.
Finally, though -- finally -- we
got a weather window and arrived at the Suez Canal, where we learned even more
humility, patience, and stoicism -- plus excellent bribing skills.
But that's a story to be told over a good bottle of Aussie shiraz or Kiwi
chardonnay the next time
we see you.
Much love from the sunny
Mediterranean. Happy birthday to Janet, Rick, Michelle, Matthew and Jimmy;
and an unpardonably late HAPPY 50TH to Lynn. Love, Liza
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6 June 2003 -- Orhaniye, Turkey
Hi All,
We just got back to the boat after
a couple of weeks of land travel in central Turkey. Although there were
many highlights, the don't-miss area was Capadoccia (Kapadokya). The landscape
there is like nowhere else on earth.
Volcanic upheavals have created a fairyland of hollow towers
and rounded caves from soft porous stone. Early Christians excavated complex underground cities
that one can still explore. I am quite certain that Tolkien must
have visited here before he
created his hobbit holes, his mammoth underground cities of dwarves, and his names for the lands and people of
Mordor. Capadoccia is now home to many artisans, miles of hiking trails, and enchanting
"cave hotels" built right into the stone. It's a tourist
paradise.
If I had to put into words what we
like most about Turkey, though, I would have to say the good humor and robustness
of the
Turkish people. Turkey is one of the few countries
in the world that is a net exporter of food -- and that's after its own citizens
have gone back for seconds! Turkey has been a republic only
since the late 1920s when Attaturk, widely revered as the father of his country,
propelled it from an Ottoman medieval subsistence economy straight into the 20th Century without passing Go.
Noticing that unlike the western world nobody in Turkey had a surname,
Attaturk required every Turkish family to pick one. (Imagine trying to do business
with Mustafa Who Is Cousin to Mustafa of the Tomato Farm Near the Western Junction
in Mugla). Then this amazing leader instigated a democracy; he crafted laws requiring the government to be secular and
not run by Islamic
religious leaders; he began building an up-to-date infrastructure; and finally he
completely overhauled the language, standardizing it from Arab script to western script. With its abundant resources and impressive work ethic, Turkey has morphed into a
largely modern country in
what is possibly the shortest time on record.
On the other hand, one can still see
farmers working
their fields by hand and taking vegetables and flowers to market in a mule-drawn
cart. At one family-owned pension where we stayed, every morsel of food at the breakfast table (bread, tomatoes, olives,
eggs, honey, cheese,
butter, yoghurt, and cucumbers -- the typical Turkish breakfast) came fresh from the family's own
small surrounding
farm.
For us, it is good to see young
men and women talking and laughing together and strolling hand in hand again; flowers
blooming everywhere we look; children looking well-fed and joyful at play.
It has been a long time since we have seen these phenomena. This
is a fertile colorful happy country; and we have regained contentment.
In these longitudes, however, one
can never completely leave the somber behind. During our stay in Istanbul we met
a nice Israeli couple who had flown there for the weekend. I observed conversationally that it must be nice to live in an area
where one can just pop over to sight-see ancient civilizations next door.
The husband's pleasant animated face melted to gloom in two seconds
flat. "Yes, we
are everywhere surrounded by a magnificent past," he replied slowly. "But we have no
future."
And for a long moment I looked
into the blank eyes of hopelessness.
Today Alan and I will finish up
our annual boat maintenance (and count our blessings). Tomorrow we will put the boat back in the
water (and count our blessings), and
the next day we're off to the sun-baked desert islands of Greece (counting our
blessings all the while). We think of you
often and hope all is well at home.
Happy birthdays to Brad, Sherri
and Allison. A very HAPPY 50th birthday to
Melissa. Happy anniversaries to Char & Greg (see you in Athens on the
20th), Jon
& Gayle, and Anne & Allan. Happy Anniversary to the Judge
& Jan. Thanks to Sirius for sharing Med tips and for giving me
a copy of the Blue Water Sailing Hylas article. And thanks a million to Leslie and Marc for bringing us Good
Stuff from Home and for being such flexible crew and fabulous cooks (am still thinking fondly of the risotto with truffle
oil, accompanied by that noble, that very noble Chateauneuf du Pape). Love and
kisses (and countless blessings), Liza
Photographs of Turkey
4 July 2003 -- Zea Marina, Piraeus (Athens), Greece
Happy American Independence Day,
y'all! Hope you had a wonderful holiday back home. We did some major
celebrating ourselves this week -- of dreams come true. First, we anchored
beneath the Temple of Poseidon at Sounion. Way back in 1986 when we
anchored in the same spot on a charter boat, we vowed to return with our very
own boat someday. (!) And second, Alan has now (technically) completed a
circumnavigation -- beginning here in Greece in 1983 and continuing across the Atlantic
on a 29-ft wooden Golden Hind.
As for me, I am loving the Greek
islands, the white labyrinthine villages and waters that are always a
particularly blue shade of blue. We have spent many an evening in
the cockpit with fresh olives, feta, bread, tsatziki, rich sweet local
tomatoes, and a sunset unsurpassed -- until the next night. According to
friends who have completed their circumnavigations, we should
start feeling the magnetic pull of home pretty soon, given that we are now in
our last six months of the trip. It'll have to be a major force field,
though, to tear me away from these long glorious sunny days in the
Mediterranean.
Happy birthdays to Allison and
Matt. HAPPY 50th to Carol, HAPPY
86th to Mamaw, and HAPPY 89th to
Charlie. Happy anniversaries last month to Anne & Allan and Jon &
Gayle. Many thanks to Char & Greg for being such excellent crew and
for bringing boat parts and Good Stuff From Home all the way from San Francisco to
Santorini (and also thanks for the Moet for our Corinth Canal celebration, which
we decided to have in advance :-)). Happy Fourth of
July! Love, Liza
10 August 2003 -- Skradn, Croatia (Adriatic Sea)
Hi Y'all,
We're loving Croatia,
which the local residents call Hrvatska. The reason we still call it
"Croatia" is that saying "Hrvatska" causes an accidental
tonsillectomy. Everywhere we have been, the breeze carries the scent of pine
trees, lavender, and clean blue ocean. The traditional music here is especially nice
-- male choruses of about a dozen guys in 4- and 5-part a capela harmony,
belting out a rousing anthem and then crooning something simple and sweet. At lunch
the other day in Korçula, about 8 older guys eating at the table next to us
just started singing out of nowhere, and it was gorgeous. (This was in
spite of, or possibly because of, all the empty wine bottles on the table.
Theirs, not ours. Well okay, one of the bottles was on ours, but you know what I
mean).
Some highlights of
Croatia so far have been wandering around the fascinating old city of Dubrovnik;
hiking and swimming on pristine Mljet Island; and spending time in the
medievally-walled
island towns of Korçula and Hvar. A few days ago we brought the boat
inland, up-river to Skradn and the Krk National Park for some great waterfall
hiking. So far, our only criticisms of the whole country are that they
should (1) export more of their excellent wine; and (2) use the
proceeds to buy some vowels.
For those who still
remember Croatia as being in a particularly nasty war a decade ago, things here
on the coast are now repaired, peaceful, politically stable, ecologically
admirable, and economically
recovering. The people themselves are lovely to know -- outgoing, tall and
good-looking, expansively generous. Basketball and water polo are very
big. Although the Dalmatian Coast of Croatia is a vacation paradise
virtually undiscovered by North Americans, the place is hopping with Italian,
German, and Austrian tourists. And the vast majority of these swim and
sunbathe in the nude -- young and
old, male and female, of all possible body shapes and sizes from drop-dead
gorgeous to beached white whale. I am by turns appalled, amused, sanctimoniously
disapproving, envious at their lack of inhibitions, entertained, astounded at their nerve, and then back to appalled. Alan mainly just stares and
laughs in glee, and it's all I can do to keep his clothes on him most of the time.
We'll be
island-hopping here for a bit longer before we turn around and sail through the
Straits of Messina on our way to Rome.
Happy August birthdays to Dad, Claire, Jon, and Mom. Happy Anniversary to
Scott and Alli. Much love from beautiful Croatia, Liza
Photographs of Croatia
15 September 2003 -- Porto di Turistico Roma, Ostia Lido, Italy
Buon Giorno!
The main thing I have
to say about touring Italy is that my wardrobe is definitely not up to
it. This is one stylish place. When I start speaking English,
people seem genuinely relieved that I'm not Italian.
We have had a great
month of immersing ourselves in central Italy's history and culture, from Naples and
Pompeii to Rome through Umbria and Tuscany to Florence For us, of
course, that mainly means strolling from cafe to wine bar to restaurant, with
short stops in between to see the sights. Best museum: Villa Borghese in
Rome. Best undiscovered Tuscan town: Radda in Chianti. Best dish:
Fresh ricotta-stuffed ravioli with truffles. Best wine: All of them. Best
bargain: We're still looking. Cleanest bathrooms: McDonald's (as
usual). Best sailing: Forget it. For weeks we've been either
motoring in a dead calm or sitting out thunderstorms.
But we're hoping for
better weather soon. We'd like to leave tomorrow for either the island of Elba
or Corsica, depending on the wind.
Ciao, bella.
:-) Liza
12 October 2003 -- Queensway Quay Marina, Gibraltar
Hi Folks,
Heartsong III is
docked at the foot of the Rock of Gibraltar. And "solid"
is indeed the first word that comes to mind. Followed closely by
"ugly" and "barren." But the town itself is
delightful, and we find ourselves happily immersed again in British
accents and really good scones. Strategically placed at the narrow
entrance to the Mediterranean Sea, Gibraltar has been a colony of Great
Britain since the early 18th Century and figures prominently in the naval
history of the western world. As a Patrick O'Brian fan, I am
enthralled with the place. Alan likes it for the hundreds of wild
Macaque monkeys that live all along his jogging route. I won't let
him carry food for them in his pockets, though, for fear of a
monkey-mugging.
Our plan is to
keep the boat here until the official end of Atlantic storm season, and
then to sail down to the Canary Islands (off the western coast of Africa)
to prepare for our Atlantic crossing. Until the weather changes, we will
try to spend a few days in the interior of nearby Spain. My goals
are (1) to hear some really good flamenco music; (2) to think of enough
excuses to avoid being taken to a bullfight; and (3) to visit the Prado
Museum in Madrid. The Prado is the final item on my lifetime
want-to-see museum list.
Closure is such
a beautiful thing.
We'd like to
thank Mark & Kristin for being excellent crew for a very enjoyable
week of exploring Mallorca. We traveled down the rugged northwest
coast and added yet another bay (Cala de Calobra) to our list of the
world's most beautiful anchorages. In Palma and environs we
had a great time strolling through Balearic history via cathedral, palace,
castle, villa, gardens, and monastery. Life has been pretty good in
Mallorca and Ibiza for a very long time.
Hope you are
having an excellent October. Happy birthdays to Lisa and Ray.
Happy 9th Anniversary to Dad & Fran. And goodbye Bill, you wise
witty sharp tack of a ninety-something good man.
Next letter will
probably be from the Caribbean in December (!). Love, Liza
Photographs of the Balearic Islands
30 October 2003 -- Queensway Quay Marina, Gibraltar
Hi All,
We are still in
Gibraltar, waiting for appropriate weather to cross the Atlantic Ocean.
Right now, the US government Internet weather forecast models (oh how I love the
21st Century) show a low pressure area lurking off the Straits of Gibraltar,
with wave heights of 30-50 feet and variable winds of gale force. In
short, there's a big storm out there. To me,
adventure does not mean masochism. So we have decided to give the Atlantic
Ocean some time to think about itself. :-)
Our Spain
trip was excellent. Thank you to Poppy I and Sea
Witch for making it even more so. The flamenco was riveting; I
was able politely to avoid a bullfight; we lived inside an El Greco painting in
Toledo for a day; and the Prado Museum offered the bonus of a breathtaking
Manet exhibit. Moreover, Alan was able to repair various pieces of
furniture and appliances for the recently widowed, tearfully grateful
elderly lady who owned the Madrid hostal where we stayed. Not that it reduced our
room rate, but he has to be happy with the state of his karma.
We hope to
depart Gibraltar within the week, but we'll wait here as long as it takes
to maximize the probability of a safe trip. Can't wait to be back at
sea. Can't wait to be back at sea. Can't wait to be back at
sea.
Happy November
birthdays to David, Anne, Jack, Gail, Allan, Paul, Kristi, and Char. Much love, Liza
2 November 2003 -- Gibraltar
Hi Folks,
Our Atlantic
Ocean crossing will be the longest non-stop passage we will have done on
the circumnavigation, and also our last passage. So in celebration,
we will be trying something new. My brother Jon in Temple, Texas,
has very kindly agreed to post mid-ocean updates I will send him via
satellite email every day or so.
During the
crossing, the most recent message will appear on the home page of the
website. All of the previous messages will be stored on a page
called "passage dispatches."
I really hope
this works out. It should be a lot of fun. At least for
me. :-)
We will probably
depart Gibraltar sometime around November 7th. Happy
Thanksgiving! Love, Liza
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Voyage of Heartsong III