Here at Robinson Crusoe resort, like most resorts in the Pacific, they have a dive shop and this time we paid more attention to their offers of an introductory dive trip. The cost was reasonable, and we knew that the water would be fairly calm and clear here. After discussing it a bit, we decided to go for an intro dive for Steven’s birthday.

I was leery, mainly because I am very sensitive to pressure changes in my inner ears. I have a lot of trouble equalizing the pressure in my ears and often have difficulty when flying. Many times I’ve had blocked ears for over 24 hours after a flight, and I know from freediving that I get pain in my ears when I go more than a metre or two deep. Still, I decided to give it a try.

I didn’t have a lot of trouble with the diving gear, though it felt quite odd to be in the water with all that stuff. The main trouble I had, of course, was my ears. It seemed like forever to get down to a reasonable depth as I kept having to surface a little, try to unblock my ears, descend, try to unblock my ears, surface, try to unblock my ears, descend, etc. And the more this went on, since this is the first time I’ve ever swum with dive gear, I could feel myself start to panic because it feels so weird to breathe.

Clynt, our dive instructor, was very patient and helpful, and after what seemed like an hour got me to let go of the mooring line we were descending on and actually swim around a little. Once I started swimming, the panic all left and I was back to only have to deal with my ears. And once we found a depth to stay at, I was fine.

We dove off the reef near Robinson Crusoe, which was quite decent coral with lots of fish. Among all the other excellent reef fish and corals, I managed to see a hawksbill turtle and a huge sunfish.

After almost 40 minutes down below, we surfaced slowly, and my ears went to town. It doesn’t hurt nearly as much when they pressure is relieved, but it feels like tiny popcorn in my head. For the rest of the day, both ears were still blocked and they occasionally hurt. A day later I’m still popping my ears once in a while.

All in all, it was better (ear-wise) than I thought it would be. However, it would be hard to say that it was a huge amount better than a really good snorkelling trip. If I had the opportunity to dive a lot, I’m sure I’d get better at managing my ears, but as it was I spent probably 3/4 of the time futzing with either my ears or the gear and 1/4 of the time looking at the fish. I might be tempted to go again if the price is right, but I don’t see myself getting certified and taking up SCUBA as a hobby.

As a side note, Steven doesn’t share my inner ear troubles and had a better time of it. Even so, he’s happy to snorkel and isn’t eager to do more dives, either. Lots of people really dig diving, so our experiences obviously are just one opinion. Overall, I’d say it’s worth trying at least once. There is something really cool about just swimming along in the undersea world with ease.

Armed with a set of GPS waypoints and a 20-year old cruising guide, we picked our way through the reefs on the northeast coast of Vanua Levu, the northernmost island of Fiji. Lonely Planet calls Vanua Levu “the best kept secret in Fiji,” which is travel guide code for there’s nothing there. It is in many ways unspoiled here, which means that there is great fishing, beautiful sand beaches and traditional villages. It also means that there’s not a lot of grocery stores.

We had a waypoint to get into the bay off the village of Visoqo, and our 20-year old guide mentioned that although they hadn’t been ashore here, there was a store. Excellent. We anchored about a mile off the village, as it was very reefy and shallow close to shore, and set out on a big long row into town.

After a 20-minute longboat row, with Steven on the starboard oar and me on the port, we pulled up to the crumbling stone pier off the village. We tied the dinghy to a rock and scrambled up to the grass of shore. We thought we could see a road and walked toward it, but it was just a clearing – sort of a village square.

As we were looking around and trying to figure out what to do, a couple of people came out and introduced themselves to us. We introduced ourselves and asked to see the chief, so we could give a gift of yaqona (the root which is ground up to make kava) and do sevusevu (the traditional ceremony asking for permission to visit the village). There was no chief we were told, nor were there a store or a vegetable market, but there was an American at the school.

Okay; that’s not what we expected. But, we just went with it. We met Scott, a Peace Corps volunteer, who helped us translate linguistically and more important, culturally, for the rest of the day. We visited the school, where we were cause to suspend classes due to the excitement of our visit. We visited each class and told them who we were and where we came from. Everyone was amazed that Canada has polar bears, sunlight for 19 hours in the summer and that I was the captain. One young girl, after several false starts, shyly asked what she should study so she could become a boat captain herself.

After the school trip, Scott noticed that we had yaqona sticking out of our bag and understood at once why a group of village men had accumulated at the edge of the school grounds, waiting for us. We were introduced to the town’s Methodist minister, who along with the town head man (the first person we met) performed the sevusevu ceremony. Then we were led to the village hall, where the yaqona was pounded and turned into kava, which we ritually drank with the rest of the villagers with much hand-clapping and chit chat.

It was a surprisingly casual event, with Steven coopted into a game of finger billiards, the headmaster of the schools arriving to ask me questions about navigation and the women supplying tea and pancakes. Finally, after the second bowl of kava had been mixed up, we excused ourself to return to Scream before dark. The head man offered to tow us, which we gratefully accepted. We gave him a tour of the boat and some fishing line and thanked him for the village’s hospitality. After a couple of nights we had to move on in search of veggies, but luckily the headman was coming out fishing as we were leaving and he dropped off a generous gift of coconuts and bananas.

In a world without vegetables, fruit will do.

I got to have a family Christmas with my Auntie Fay and her four kids, their partners and their own kids. Crazy! They also organized a going away barbeque for us, where my other cousin Bruce was also able to come. We had a great time and it was wonderful meeting everyone as an adult.

On night watch, reading paper or ebooks is kind of a non-starter, so we both listen to podcasts, mostly fiction podcasts. There are several excellent ones: Escape Pod, the Drabblecast and Decoder Ring Theatre come to mind.

There are also excellent long form stories available for free download at podiobooks.com (disclosure: I have two novels available there, but I was a user before I was an author on the site). I’ve listened to a lot of novels available there, and highly recommend a good poke through the site. You’ll find something you like, I guarantee it.

The particular stories that really kept us sane crossing the Pacific, from Ecuador through to New Zealand were what is officially called the Golden Age of the Solar Clipper series by Nathan Lowell, but which we call Coffee Share*.

The series starts with Quarter Share, wherein unlikely hero Ishmael Horatio Wang signs on as essentially a deckhand on an interstellar cargo ship. The series traces his rise up the ranks with a decidedly nautical flair while remaining solidly in the space opera genre.

What makes Coffee Share so great on passage is that for the most part everyone is very nice. There’s enough excitement and derring-do to keep the stories entertaining, but you like pretty much all the characters. If the ride is rolly, the squalls are coming through regularly and it’s not entirely fun all the time, listening to Nathan’s soothing voice tell stories of genuinely likeable people in a kind of similar but different enough to be escapist situation is just what the doctor ordered.

We’ve passed on the audio files to a lot of our cruiser friends, but you don’t need to be nautical to enjoy these books. You can listen to them all for free via podiobooks.com — start with Quarter Share, then work your way up with Half Share, Full Share, Double Share and Captain’s Share. And coming soon, much to our excitement, Owner’s Share. If you’re not an audiobook listener, you can buy Quarter Share in print now and the others will be released in the coming months.

*We call the series Coffee Share, because Ishmael is a coffee nut and there’s a LOT of coffee talk in the series. This is particularly notable to us, since coffee is highly rationed on Scream, so all the descriptions of many, many cups of good coffee were both enjoyable and maddening.

We first arrived in Hiva Oa, in the Marquesas.

The Marquesas are high, mountainous islands, with beautiful skylines.  The anchorages are a bit rolly in some places, but there are some bays, like popular Anaho, which are true coves and are quite comfortable.

We rushed through the Tuamotus, which was a bit of a mistake, since the barrier reefs which form the atolls there break the sea swell, and we enjoyed our first really flat water anchorage in months in Rangiroa.

We zipped off to Tahiti, where we stayed near the capital of Pape’ete for over a month. We were enjoying watching the games of the World Cup (Viva España!!), and exploring Pape’ete and the surrounding neighbourhoods. The Tahitians take their Va’a (outrigger canoeing) very seriously, and we often had large groups of paddlers zipping past the boat while at anchor.

We had an excellent view from the anchorage of the neighbouring island of Mo’orea, and once our soccer watching was done, we sailed across the strait to check it out for ourselves.

There are a couple of deeply indented bays on Mo’orea, and thanks to the barrier reefs, both are excellent anchorages. We spent a few nights in each one, meeting up with our good friends on Sidewinder for a couple of capsize-free snorkel trips, including one to get up close and personal with stingrays and sharks.

We will soon be off to explore the Leeward Islands – Huahine, Raiatea, Taha’a and the famous Bora Bora.

At Isla Isabela in the Galápagos, one of the trips most people recommend is hiring a panga and guide for a snorkelling tour of the lava tunnels at Los Túneles. So, along with our friends Robert and Kelita from Freedom and David and Suzi on Sidewinder, we hired the panga Inmaculata with its captain Miguel and guide Diego to check it out.

Six passengers set out that day for a five hour tour. A five hour tour.

The panga ride over to the area was very bumpy, as the seas were fairly high and they drive really, really fast. Both Kelita and I were not liking it at all, and we all agreed that a slow ride on a sailboat is preferable. However, as the site is a good distance from Puerto Villamil, a fast boat is the only option. We arrived at the entrance to the area after about an hour, and saw that we would have to negotiate breakers to gain entrance to the spot. We had heard that getting in was an impressive experience, and could easily see that it would be the case.

There was some debate about whether or not conditions were good for going in to the site, but the majority of us onboard wanted to give it a try, and the captain was prepared to go ahead also, so we headed around outside the breaking waves to get a proper angle of approach. On the way we saw a giant ray, well over a metre wide. We followed it around for a while, oohing and ahhing at its majesty. Eventually, it swam off and we went to try our approach to Los Túneles.

The waves near the reefs were about 10 to 12 feet tall, breaking and rolling like good surfing waves. The captain gunned the engine, and we went in between two waves driving along the face. At one point we all realized that there was a reef on our left and a wave on our right, and something had to change. Unfortunately, nothing changed fast enough, and we were hit broadside by a big breaker. Of course, the panga rolled over immediately.

On board, we all knew what was going to happen a split second before it did, so we were all kind of prepared for it — some people grabbed on to the bars which held the boat’s bimini on, others just hunkered down low to try and take the roll as easily as possible. As the boat rolled and filled with water, Suzi and I, who were on the low side, were thrown back into the bimini bars, and had to find our way through the bars to swim out. It sounds hard, but both of us did it automatically and were well away from the upside down boat very soon.

The men all were thrown from the high side when the boat flipped, and Kelita made her way out from under the boat last. Robert and David are both surfers, and I heard Robert shout for us to swim away from the boat. I turned and saw more breaking waves coming, and remembered to dive under when they broke over me as I swam to the nearby reef.

Soon, we were all at the reef, and those who first made it on to the sharp lava helped the others up. Both Steven and I had managed to keep our crocs shoes on, and so we did most of the walking around as the others were shoeless at first and the reef was very uncomfortable on bare feet. We all got on to the reef and took stock of our situation. I had banged my left arm on the bimini bars, and Suzi had hit her neck, but was okay. Most of us had cuts from the reef, but otherwise we were all unharmed.

The panga was upside down in the breaking swells, slowly coming in to the reef. Most of our belongings were floating in the water, also heading in to where we were. We set about collecting as much of our stuff as we could, and soon had several bags up on the reef. However, the tide was rising, and after our carefully acquired items nearly washed away again a couple of times, we agreed to head further in toward higher ground. Steven and I each took a couple of bags, and swam to the next set of reefs, then climbed up. The others followed and soon we had everyone and everything on the higher reefs. By now some shoes had been found, and most of us had something on our feet to protect us.

Now that we were all safe, the captain and guide turned their attention to the panga. They and the men from our group slowly worked to bring the boat through the reefs and in toward where we were camped out. They got in close and tried to right the boat, but it was too heavy. David suggest tying the painter to the middle of the boat, and they ran the line up to where I, Kelita and Suzi were on shore. I looped the line around a lump on the lava rock to keep it from pulling us off the reef in our attempts, and with the guide at the end of the line, all three women hauled on the line as the men pushed on the boat. Timing our efforts for when a wave would lift the boat, we finally got the boat righted after what felt like a long time of trying.

With the boat right side up we could see the damage it had suffered: the only evidence that there had ever been an upright steering station was a couple of broken cables flopping around, the bimini had been completely sheared off and the covers on both motors were lost. Otherwise, the hull was okay. However, there was no way to get it to open water, so we had to leave it tied to a corner of the reef. At this point, our guide, Diego, set off to try and find another tour boat to take us back to Puerto Villamil.

Photo courtesy of Robert and Kelita from Freedom

Shortly he returned, letting us know that a boat was coming. We spent our time waiting by collecting more of our stuff as it floated in, and rationing the fresh water we’d managed to save. We were very glad to see the other panga pull up with its captain, young helper and passengers of three young French guys, who very gracefully helped us.

However, our ordeal was far from over. We couldn’t just drive out of the area we were in with the now twelve of us on board the panga. So, we wound our way through the lava tunnels, sometimes almost portaging the boat over shallow areas, until we got to a spot where the eight of us from Inmaculata could walk to another spot where we could be picked up. A sport fishing boat also come along, and offered to take some of our gear to reduce the weight. We passed one of our bags over to them, and Freedom did the same. Then we set out on a walk over the lava tunnels that most tourists will never see.

Following Miguel and Diego, we walked over some very interesting lava formations, heading what appeared to be nowhere. At one point we came across a lagoon, and had to swim to the other side. We were starting to wonder if we were going in the right direction as we could see nothing ahead. Finally, we came to a break in the plants and could see the ocean on the other side. And there was the boat with its French tourists waiting! We had to swim to the boat, and as we approached one of the French guys pointed at us and said, “They have funny looking seals here. They’re wearing hats.” At the time, this was hilarious.

We climbed aboard, and the captain began to head toward the breaking waves to take us out. We started to get nervous as we approached the breakers, and silently lifejackets were handed around and donned. No one spoke as the captain gunned the engine to start our approach to the breaking waves. No one even spoke when we immediately hit a rock. We didn’t know what to say when a few minutes later one of the motors stalled. Undaunted, the captain restarted the motor, gunned both engines again and charged up the face of a towering wave. It seemed to take forever to crest the wave and run up the next one, but it was probably all over in about five minutes. We were through the breakers, in safe water and headed back to Puerto Villamil.

The ride back to the anchorage was long and bumpy, but we were all just happy to be headed home. Unfortunately, we had a few more challenges to surmount. When we pulled into the anchorage, we asked if we could be dropped off at the main dock, where we’d find a ride back to our boats with some other cruiser. We knew from experience that getting from panga to sailboat was tricky in that anchorage, but we were told that the Port Captain’s rules meant that they couldn’t take us to the dock since we hadn’t left from the dock. Reluctantly we agreed to be dropped off at our boats, and we made for Sidewinder first. As we approached, the panga nearly collided with one of their solar panels, and after a few attempts David and Suzi scrambled aboard their boat.

We then headed to Freedom, where Steven and I decided we’d disembark, then get a ride to Scream from Robert and Kelita later. As we approached Freedom’s stern, the panga all of a sudden sped up and rammed Freedom abeam. The boat then drove straight over the painter line tying Freedom’s dinghy to their boat. The painter got caught in the props of the panga and we untied the painter and scrambled aboard Freedom, with a fair amount of angry shouting, I’ll admit. Then we saw that the captain of the panga was holding the throttle for one of his motors in his hand, several feet away from the motor it belonged to. The throttle had broken off in the on position as we’d approached Freedom, and luckily the run in with the dinghy painter had stopped the motors.

They motored away on their remaining engine, and shortly thereafter the sport fishing boat arrived with our stuff. Nervous about them getting too close, we had them toss the bags to us, and of course ours ended up in the drink. Everything had spent a long time in the water anyway, so that was no matter and we waved them off as Steven dove in to rescue our bag. We had a moment of respite on Freedom before getting a ride with David from Sidewinder back to our boat.

The next day we saw Inmaculata being towed back to port past our boat, its hull intact if a bit battered. All in all, quite the experience. But we never even got the change to make a radio out of a coconut.

Huanchaco is much like San Juan del Sur in Nicaragua – a quaint surfer town, full of tourists, ex-pats and beach bums. It was a very nice and relaxing holiday for us, and we spent the time enjoying the beach, doing a little surfing and bodyboarding and generally chilling out.

The indigenous peoples of the region used incredible reed boats, now called Caballitos de Totoro (little horses), to surf the waves while fishing. Today, you can hitch a ride on one of these boats for a wet trip out and back. However, they are still used by the local fishermen, and we often saw teams of them bobbing on the waves in the mornings.

Our friend Andrew happened to be traveling in Peru at the same time, and we were lucky to get to meet up for a couple of days. The three of us visited the ruins of Huacas del Sol y de la Luna and Chan Chan for a day, which were much more impressive than I’d imagined. Huaca de la Luna, which is actually a temple to a nature god rather than a celestial one, is remarkably well preserved in parts, due to its Moche builders habit of burying old versions and rebuilding bigger, better ones over top. The painted walls were most impressive.

Chan Chan, a site of the later Chimu culture, was equally impressive in its huge size and intricately carved walls.

Our tour went to a privately owned observatory, where we and seven other folks walked through the rainy forest to a very pretty waterfall. We then hiked back and hung out at the hotel on the property, watching the cloud-shrouded volcano carefully for signs of lava flows. We did see a few bright sparks that were molten rocks bouncing down the sides, but the sound of the lava flow was much more spectacular than the views. It was like listening to popcorn popping right next to you, and we were several miles away. Very impressive.

We were then taken to Baldi hot springs, which is a hotel and resort with several pools ranging in temperature from hot to way too hot. We had a nice buffet dinner there, then spent a few hours mincing around between the pools trying not to get lost or cooked. It was a great way to wind down after a couple of days of hiking, though there was very little of nature visible at that facility.

We skipped the butterfly gardens, the guided hikes in the national park, the Sepentarium and insect zoo, bungee jumping and a couple of zipline canopy tours. We did visit the Ranario (frog sanctuary) and the SkyTrek facility.

The Ranario was a great find, and for a small fee you get multiple entry to their many frog terrariums, so you can visit at different times of day. We went in the afternoon, and got a guided tour by a fluent English speaker who was very knowledgeable about the frogs as well as funny and entertaining. It was raining pretty hard when the tour was done, so we hung out for a while while our guide showed us videos of frogs and toads on YouTube until his laptop’s battery died. We returned the following evening to look at the frogs in their night habitats, which was really cool. The frogs are almost all very small, so visiting a facility like this is a must if you actually want to see them up close and personal.

We spent the majority of our time and budget on a visit to SkyTrek, a zipline and suspension bridge facility in the cloudforest. I was worried that it would be overly developed, and the whole zipline canopy tour seemed just plain cheesy. As it turned out, most of the facility is a well groomed but wild trail though the forest, with several suspension bridges over valleys along the trail. We spent most of the morning walking this path, having many amazing birds, plants and insects pointed out for us by our guide. It was a fabulous hike, and was well worth the price of admission.

As for the zipline, it was surprisingly fun, though you really don’t see a lot while whizzing over the treetops at 40 miles an hour. The views from the takeoff and landing platforms were pretty fantastic, though. The zipline package at SkyTrek comes with a ride up their gondola, which was very pleasant. I’m glad I did the zipline, though if I were going again I’d stick to the walk and maybe a ride up the gondola for the views.