Sailing North Pacific: Kiribati

When I think of the North Pacific, what comes to mind are the mighty waves and storms of the Aleutian islands and the rugged, windswept coast from Alaska to British Columbia. Or, I think of the other side and the coastline of Japan, say Hokkaido or Vladivostok, Russia. I have never thought of the North Pacific as being just the other side of the equator from the South Pacific which, of course, it is... palm trees a blowin' in the warm tropical wind. That is where I find myself now, having just crossed the equator a few days ago and sailing into the remote equatorial Pacific atoll nation of Kiribati.

There is a tradition amongst sailors, so I was told, that when one crosses the equator for the first time sailing, one must perform a little ritual for the God of the Ocean, be it Poseidon or Neptune, or any other of the various names given by Polynesians, Micronesians or Melanesians. So on yet another sunny day of sailing, around 10:00 am, when Cedric noticed that the GPS had shown that we were at 0 degrees, he brought in the jib, turned Thira the sailboat into the wind and put on the engine to keep her straight in the big swells. It was time to get ready. I had to cut a lock of hair and throw it in the sea and offer some rum to Poseidon. It was cheap rum though so I opted for some Shiraz. Then I had to jump in, which I did, holding on to a line that we always put out while swimming from the boat on the open sea.

Several weeks ago, we had left Lautoka, Fiji after a favourable wind and weather report. We sailed through the southern tip of the Yasawa group at sunset and three days later, with a nice steady 20 knot easterly wind, we passed the last most northerly island of Fiji called Rotuma. Unfortunately, we did not stop. This was for two reasons. It was almost dark and when approaching a new island, you need sunlight to see the entrance through the reef and into the lagoon. Also, we had already cleared customs back on Viti Levu and technically, they do not want you stopping at other islands once you have officially been stamped out. There are ways around it however, like all of a sudden having engine trouble. However, we chose to stick to the rules this time.

That was the last island for another three days before reaching the atoll of Funafuti, in the island nation called Tuvalu. So the total was six days on the open sea and it was my first real sailing or crossing (apart from some island hopping in Fiji). It was awesome. No throwing up even though we did have some pretty big swells and chop. I think I have my sea legs now. The nightly watches were a little hard on sleep patterns. Average speed was around 5 knots. Cedric, the captain, does not want to stress the sails by going much faster (he still has 1.5 years to go and lots of time) Amazing skies as you can imagine... sunsets, bright stars, lots of squalls where the wind picks up real quick, then a massive downpour, then calm before we get out of it and back to wind we had. I have been doing a lots of 'helming' as well. Getting a feel for the boat and how she moves in the wind and swells. It's a great feeling, in the middle of the night, to pick a star on the horizon as a guide to the measurement of degrees to the wind where you want to go. There is also a constant parallel constellation, that being the trail of bright green phosphorescent in the wake of the sailboat.

The weather is hot but the wind off the water feels good, especially at night. We saw dolphins a couple of times zipping in front of the bow and also "dwarf sperm whales!" who were very curious going all around and underneath. We weren't sure what they were, large dolphins or porpoises but then Peter brought out his guide book on cetaceans and we identified them with a few good pictures I had taken.

The name Tuvalu means '8 islands' in Tuvaluan, even though there are in reality 9 islands in the group. Don't ask me which one got shafted or why. They were once part of the British mandated area of Gilbert and Ellice islands, them being the latter, the former, now called Kiribati, are further north. The main island, Funafuti, is only 8 km long and at its widest, not even one km. There are like 9000 people that live here and they are of Polynesian descent, similar to Samoan and Tongan peoples who apparently settled here centuries ago. You can also tell by their size. I mean many of the older women and to a lesser extent the men are absolutely huge. Think Hawaiian sumo wrestlers on a diet of spam. They have much lighter skin then the Fijian who are essentially Melanesian. There are barely any tourists that come here because it really is in the middle of no where.

There is not much to do on the main island. People just sit around during the intense heat of the day and the pace is really sloooow. Toward sunset however, things start getting a little more animated when half the islanders gathers at the air strip - built by the Americans for B-52 bombers during WW II (it takes up probably a quarter of the land of the entire island), to either play rugby, volleyball or just go for a stroll on the runway. The beaches are not really beaches but rocky, washed up coral and lots of garbage.

Vaitupu. There we met one of the two constables on the island named Lemali and who, after checking that we had the clearance from the capitol, asked us to come for dinner that evening at his home. We met his wife Elaine and their little boy and for the next 4 days, it was like our home away from home. Being there on a weekend meant that we were lucky to be able to check out the local "twist" or night club. Under a sheet metal roof, a dozen feet away from the surf, lots of young people were dancing to Samoan reggae and other Polynesian rhythms in their colourful "lava-lavas" (sarongs). The beer is Australian (Victoria Bitter) and the local grog that everyone drinks is called "kau", which is a sour toddy made from coconut palms. It is everywhere, and available all the time. You just need to climb up your coconut tree and take what the cut stem giveth. A small amount which is fermented by the sun is kept in the bottle to ferment the rest that oozes out of the cut palm. The smell is a bit sickly sweet but the taste is pretty good and you definitely feel it after a few glasses.

The fishermen still use many traditional outrigger canoes, some made of planks, others dugout from a hardwood tree called Feitao. Most of them paddle around the reef although I have also seen them using sails made from that all-purpose blue tarp.   We were lucky enough to join one fisherman in his boat with a 40 hp motor for some tuna fishing. You basically go fast and follow where the birds are feasting from the scraps of the feeding frenzy below. Once you catch one, it's hauled in by hand on a 200lb line that is spooled around a plastic ring. The bigger yellow fins are about 40lbs and the fishermen go out twice a day selling their catch to villagers at the pier when they return.

As it was a new moon, they invited us along at night to go for an additional catch, that of the flying fish. The guy has a light mounted on a construction hat and that is plugged into a car battery below. He sits at the bow with a net attached to a long pole and as his mate cruises along maneuvering the boat. The light sort of dazes the flying fish and he swoops the net then flicks the fish back into the hull of the boat. He let us give it a go and I managed to get quite a few once I got the hang of it. Tossing it back however, I managed to throw onto Cedric's chest a few times.

After our goodbyes, we were off to Nukufetao (one of seven out of nine that begin with the letter 'N'). Another beautiful island with a large lagoon. We stayed only 2 days though before returning to Funafuti to get clearance from immigration and continue our journey north. After 3 days sailing and halfway to Kiribati, we stopped at the northern most island of Tuvalu called Nanumea. We could not actually make it into the lagoon as the opening (which was blasted by the Yanks in WWII) was a bit too shallow for the draft of the sailboat. Therefore, we anchored just outside. A bit of a mistake because once the tide came out, it was like being in rapids of a river. The fishing was excellent though and I caught several jacks with the good ol' Canadian "Buzz bomb" hook.

We met this young woman named Judy and she brought us to her family where we were invited for the Christmas dinner of pork. The wailing sounds of pigs were heard throughout the village. It was on this island that I met two groups of men building dugout canoes. I hung out with them and the most senior of the group, spoke excellent English and explained some of the details of canoe building. These dugout outriggers were by far the nicest design I had seen yet.

For me, there is always a little pang deep inside when you a leave a special place and meet such nice people. Will you ever be back? Not likely. Three more days sailing and crossing the equator we arrived to Tarawa, Kiribati. The atoll island is much longer than anything in Tuvalu and the population is 5 times more. It's essentially a series of villages one after the other stretched out for 20 km, some are small islands that are joined by a causeway.

We moored off the jetty on Betio, the most southern part of the atoll and where you still see remnants of WWII with tanks rusting in the lagoon and massive mounted guns installed by the Japanese who had occupied the island. There was a huge battle when the US marines landed. Lots of lives lost. It felt eerie standing amongst some of the ruins of the many bunkers spread about. Many are incorporated into the crowded thatched compounds of an ever growing population.

We stumbled across a New Year's dinner for a delegation of Cuban doctors who had just arrived on the island and were promptly invited along for the dance demonstrations and the free food. This took place in one of the many "maneabas" that are everywhere on the island. A maneaba is a high roof that slopes down to about chest level, either made of pandanus palms or sheet metal, which covers a cement pad, which is then usually covered by mats. The basically function as a meeting place for the village or neighbourhood. Later on we met some ex-pats and joined them at a bar to celebrate the new year. Several days later, we left for one of the outer islands called Abaiang. Another long atoll. The lagoon there is also huge. While crossing it toward the village, we saw three manta rays cruising along. We put the engine in neutral (there was no wind that day) quickly put on some masks and snorkels and jumped in the water. The mantas did a loop around the boat and they were curious about the white dinghy we were dragging behind. So graceful to see as they seem to fly in slow motion through the water.

Abaiang was an amazing island. All the houses are thatched and made of pandanus and coconut trees. Life is simple and revolves around catching fish, getting the coconut sap for their toddy, eating breadfruit... Not much has changed here. I met Tekieri, an ex-seaman who had traveled to many countries on tankers. He spoke excellent English and had so many stories to tell. I hung out with him and his family quite a bit, setting up my hammock in his yard and sleeping off the boat for a few days. He brought me on his outrigger canoe and we sailed out on the reef to snorkel for octopus. It was very cool to see him sail it. Being a wooden boat, there was a lot of bailing water going on. I have never eaten such good octopus. He whacks it with a stick to tenderize it then it is cooked in coconut milk.

With my shipmates, we met yet another extended family, that of Ieaua. Her home was right on the beach of the windward side and outer reef of the island. That meant that there was a constant strong breeze blowing in under the thatched roof. How nice to do like the locals and take a long afternoon siesta, out of the heat and on the woven mats. As usual, their hospitality is such that you can not just spend time with I-Kiribati (the term for someone from Kiribati... which is actually pronounced Kiribass) without having something to eat. Before you know it fish, rice and fried breadfruit materializes, along with a refreshing drink of young coconut water.

Back in Tarawa, I am making use of this rather slow internet and we are trying to find a few fresh vegetables to buy for our next leg, a four day sail north to the Marshall islands.