Dark Days

Imagine this. You have been at sea for 22 days and the last week has been full of constant rain, irregular weak wind coming from all directions, your clothes are wet, your bed is damp and you have to sit outside for 12 hours a day on watch only to see more black clouds on their way. Welcome to Ustupu north of the equator. We have been experiencing really miserable squally weather and when it's so wet and swelly outside, the only options we have are to sit outside in the rain on hard wet fiberglass or lay in bed with wrinkly skin. We have tried to make the best of it, but it has gotten to us and our moods are reflecting the weather: we are grumpy and seemingly depressed for the first time in our lives!

Squalls are generated by the action of unstable air which then displaces large amounts of cold air downward and can result in heavy rain, strong winds and lightening. Luckily for us, the only thing the big grey monsters have been dishing out is rain and the strong wind. Squalls look like massive grey clouds that seem to have an uncanny ability to hit you when you are just starting to dry out.
Luckily for us, the weather seems to be improving and the wind is becoming steady. We are 375 miles way from Hilo and we really hope to arrive Thursday or Friday morning. After a shower, a bento box and a shaky walk on land, these wet miserable days will seem like a distant memory.

After 2 weeks at sea...

So we have been out here for 2 weeks. Time flies and doesn't fly by at the same time. It's a different world out here.

We are experiencing our 3rd day with minimal winds and are drifting at a speed of about 2 miles an hour. That's not very fast. At this rate, we'll have no cookies left by the time we arrive in Hawaii. That would be a real nautical disaster! One good thing about the very mild conditions is that we are catching up on our sleep and the swells are small so the motion of the ocean is pretty relaxing. On the other hand, it is hard to see our extremely slow progress and the lack of wind is turning the boat into an inferno. It is so hot we are constantly throwing buckets of salt water over our heads to cool off.

We have been having the big sailing debate: should we just turn on the engine and motor closer to Hawaii until the wind picks up or should we keep waiting for the wind while slowly drifting aimlessly in the Pacific. So far, we have decided to stick to our guns and wait for the wind. One of the things we have right now is a lot of time and we would much rather arrive in Hawaii having used the power of the wind than the power of dirty stinky diesel. We shall see whether another few days of sweating out socks off will change our minds...

Friday the 12, October, 2012

Day 14:

We have passed the half way point of our passage as well as the equator.  For the equatorial crossing we drank French Champagne and had a 3 course meal (borscht, cheese/salmon/spinach stuffed pasta shells and chocolate mousse) compliments of Sylvie, the chef.  Getting to the half way point in a passage is much like taking a long dump; you have somehow convinced yourself that you're done, but then you realize there's still a long way to go.  Sylvie says this is the most poetic statement I've ever made.

Today I caught a dorado. Catching fish on board is generally the most exciting part of our days.  Here's what happens: we're both lying in the cockpit lazily reading, snoozing, or having some variation of a previous conversation when you hear a loud bzzzzzzz of the fishing reel and look up to see a half bent fishing rod.  I grab the rod and start frantically barking orders to Sylvie "get the gaff, no the net, where did you go? gaff it, gaff it!  And then there's a flapping fish on our deck and Sylvie disappears to avoid the death and blood that ensues.  I bonk it to death over the head and stab it in the brains, gut it and then behead it.  By the time it gets to Sylvie it's just two beautiful fillets of fish.  Sylvie then prepares dishes like fish burgers, fish risotto, fried fish, seafood chowder, cheviche and sometimes sushi.  I love fishing and Sylvie loves eating fish but sometimes we both wish we could skip the in between part.

The wind has died today and it's very hot.  My elbow is itchy and there are some new interesting spots on it, maybe it will rain.

Dan, Sylvie & Ustupu

Get that bag of peanuts!

We are on our way to the Northern Hemisphere! We left Tahiti 3 days ago sporting our baguette spare tires around the mid riff and already remembering French Polynesia as a dream. We are slowly gaining our sea legs, but the going is rough. We have become accustomed to the serene island life and with it, a very slow lazy pace.

The wind has been strong and steady which is great, but the waves- oh the waves! The sea it hitting us from all directions and constantly flooding the cockpit after slapping us in the face. I literally had to dive for a bag of peanuts that was floating away as the sea was exiting. Paprika flavored peanuts- I love those! Luckily, we haven't lost anything yet, and all the peanuts are dry and accounted for.

The good news: we have already gone 300 miles. The other news: we have 2,200 to go.

Random Photos!

Linda and David come for a visit to Costa Rica.
Still sporting the 'stache.

Moorea, French Polynesia

Here's what Moorea's like:

Moorea is about 15 miles east of the Island of Tahiti.  Sailing there is about as easy as sailing gets.  It's all downwind so you just have to throw up a sail and let the boat get pushed there.  Even the lamest of sailors can figure this one out.  So we threw up some sails cracked a beer and before we knew it we were in Moorea.  There are basically two anchoring areas on the island, the first is Cook's Bay where presumably Cap'n Cook left some sort of unsolicited legacy or there is Opunohu Bay.   At Cook Bay you're in slightly murky but deep water and at Opunohu you're in 10 ft of water and it's crystal clear, so we chose Opunohu.  We drop anchor, floaty toys and boom, we're in the water drinking beer and floating behind Ustupu in the lee of Moorea under her towering mountains.

Incidentally the film The Bounty, about Captain Bligh and the mutiny on his vessel the Bounty was filmed in Moorea.  When we watched it a few weeks later it was cool to point out all of the places we recognized.


The next day we went snorkelling with Sting Rays at 'Sting Ray World' or something.  I don't know why they call it Sting Ray World because it was just a bunch of Sting Rays and Sharks in front of a bungalow hotel on the water.  Regardless, it was pretty fantastic, you bring some canned fish and sprinkle it around and on your body and the Sting Rays come and slurp the fish off you.   They rub you and bump you in groups of 3-4.  It felt weird but good.

Hmmm, what should we do next?  We hopped back in the dinghy and went to a motu to snorkel and hang out on the beach.  What is a motu you ask?  Well it's an island that forms on the fringing coral reef that surrounds the main island.  This one was basically uninhabited less a few speedo clad Europeans wading in 2 feet of water.  Dear Europeans, what's with the speedos?  Leave some of the male anatomy to the imagination, please.

On our way back to the boat Sylvie was kayaking and unbeknownst to her a humpback and her calf were splashing around directly in her path.  When the whales surfaced some 20 feet in front of her I saw in her eyes first horror, then shock and finally amazement.  Of the 5 boats following the whales, she had the best seat in the house.  Way to not get swallowed by a whale Sylvie!

To top off the day we jumped in the water, sat in the inflatables and drank cold beer.  Spot the trend??


Here are some of the other things we did in Moorea:

-Hitch hiked around the island in 4 different cars.  It took us the better part of the day but met some really cool locals and wannabe locals.

-Had our own Olympics to make up for the fact that we couldn't catch any of the London games on TV.  The participating nations were Canada and the USA.  Guess who won these summer games??? Not Canada.  The events included kayak time trials, a swim race from one boat to another, the long jump, the coco-put (my idea), and the timed coco nut opening with a machete and chugging.

-Drank cold beer in inflatables nightly behind our boat.

We liked Moorea.

The Sting-Ray, an interpretative dance by Dan Schroeder

Up close and squishy 

Sylvie, play it cool!

City life in the South Pacific

It is interesting how quickly you adapt to your surroundings. To us, whittling the day away in the water, hunting for coconuts and thinking about which other perfect tropical island we might drop in and explore was our life. To us, that felt normal. Until we arrived in bustling busy Pape’ete, Tahiti. After spending months on small islands and atolls and defining a big city as a place that has a bakery and a store, Pape’ete was a big shock to our systems. You can buy anything and there are people and lots of cars that are going to lots of places pretty quickly. By North American standards, Pape’ete is a far cry from a big city, but compared to the islands in the South Pacific, it is New York City.

We did what most people do when they first arrive: eat! We ate everything and anything and that continued to be our main focus until we left. For the first time in months, we could walk in a store and choose from a selection of delicious cheeses, fresh vegetables and thousands of other foods that were available and stacked perfectly on shelves.

Here is Ustupu’s top 5 list of exciting buys in Pape’ete (not in any order):

Micro-brew beer (in French Polynesia you can usually only by 1 type of beer, Hinano)

Pesto

Goat Cheese(s)

Dates

Fresh Vegetables

After gorging, we were ready to go back to quiet island life. Although we did not expect to like Pape’ete, we really enjoyed our brief interlude with convenience and variety. It was also great to know that we were taking a break from quiet island life when we were in this BIG city and it wasn't the other way around.

Sharks!

Sharks can sense fear. Anyone who is afraid of sharks will fear them even more after hearing that. I use to consider myself deathly afraid of sharks. I would still go in the water, surf, swim and just waddle, but the thought of encountering a shark- any shark- really freaked me out. The only thing I could do was to try to not think about it.

But if you ever find yourself in the South Pass of Fakarava (a 200m wide gap in the fringing coral reef used by boats and sea life alike to enter and exit the atoll) and want to snorkel, you have to do it alongside hundreds of sharks…literally.  You can do what is called a drift dive where you start snorkeling outside of the pass on a rising tide and the current pulls you gently (sometimes quickly) into the pass as a spectator to the amazingly diverse and beautiful underwater life that has made this area a Unesco-protected site.   All you have to do is stick your arms out like Superman and look down.

It took less than a minute to spot the first shark … my heart rate instantly increases and I try to relax by saying “they can sense fear, they can sense fear”…this makes my heart rate increase even more! But then, I notice more sharks- so much more than I first saw- in deeper water. My heart rate was about to go off the charts until I realized that they were not interested in me at all. They were going about their shark business as if I wasn’t there (even with my pounding heart). I was surprised to see that their shark business consisted of swimming around pretty slowly, not really going anywhere in particular. I even noticed that the other fish around them didn’t seem afraid. I suppose my idea of a shark was the product of terrible Hollywood films: mean old things that ate anything and everything and caused terror wherever they went. Water bullies. 

But the sharks I saw (mainly black tip and grey reef sharks) looked like they could be water pets. They swam around minding their own business and were extremely graceful and beautiful and even got out of our way as we drifted by.

Although I developed a healthier relationship with sharks during our stay there, I am still not prepared to throw myself in a shark infested water hole smothered with fish guts all over my body. I respect their strength and their very sharp teeth and understand that they can beat me in any type of underwater wrestle or race. Hopefully as long as I don’t bother them, they won’t be interested in me and in return, I’ll be able to control my heart rate.

The Touramotus

After 10 days at sea, we finally arrived at the much anticipated Tuamotu Archipelago. According to Darwin, the ring of coral that surrounds these islands are the barrier reefs of volcanic islands that sank to the bottom of the Pacific millions of years ago.  What that leaves for us today are big shockingly blue lagoons exploding with life, to explore surrounded by low lying land and little armies of palm trees.

The main things to do in the Tuamotus are eat coconuts, relax and stay in the saltwater lagoons until your fingers are wrinkly. A typical day for us would include snorkeling in the morning with hundreds of shark and a mind-boggling amount of tropical fish on healthy coral followed by beer or a warm Milo and naps then relaxing, coconut hunting finally dinner and more relaxing. All of this we typically did with our mates aboard Saltbreaker who have been following us around the Pacific…or maybe it is the other way around.

Fakarava (Atoll)

One of the most magical places we found on our tour of the Tuamotus was Fakarava.  It was also the first atoll we stopped at - it was love at first sight.  We were greeted in the anchorage by a torpedoing baguette launched by the Kleemans on Saltbreaker. The brothers were being interviewed by Outside magazine and we thought we’d crash the photo shoot- but it was too late.  We didn’t make it in the article, but if you read the magazine, look out for the article that should be out in a few months. It’ll be a good one!

After a few hours in Rotoava (the biggest village on the atoll with a population of about 600), we were spending the afternoon at a family’s house watching, “grandma” make palm frond hats and baskets while teaching us. The family was very welcoming and offered us everything from their bicycles to a breadfruit that might be ready in a week to pick. In contrast with the Marquesas, you cannot grow very much on these atolls. Coconuts thrive here, but you do not see very much else growing.  This is why the offer of a future “harvest” is extremely generous.

I really adored the grandmother. She was funny, warm and in Anne of Green Gable’s words, felt like a kindred spirit. She believed that gifts from nature should not be sold but should be given away. This included fruit growing on their land and even the beautiful palm frond baskets she made. She does not believe her children will continue that same philosophy due to the stronger external influences they now face and the increasing value placed on money. The local diet, in her youth, was primarily comprised of fish caught in the lagoon and fruit grown on your property. But the increasing access to processed food and television is changing that self-sufficiency. Instead of eating a chicken that roams around on your land, it is easier to buy a frozen chicken from the local store shipped from China. 

The atolls have undergone significant changes in her lifetime and I am sure this is to continue in our lifetime as well. Although it is not an unspoiled paradise, it is still paradise and the people that live there make it that much more special. 

Polynesian Olympics

Due to the fact that we've been unable to catch any Olympics, we decided to have our own.  The day consisted of kayak time trials, a swim race between boats, synchronized diving, long jump and coco-put.   At least if we can't enjoy the rest of the world, you can enjoy ours.

See videos below.

Photos from Isla Isabela, Galapagos

Penguin

Lava passages at Los Tuneles

Blue Footed Boobie

He stole my chair

Photos from the Marquesas

Le Champion.  Biggest rooster in town, he was old and stringy but we ate him.

One of the many fresh Tuna meals.

Tiki

Me picking mangoes with our friend Simon in Nuku Hiva

The score

North end of Tahuata, Marquesas

A gift, the first of many.

Sylvie's new best friends.

Prepping to hunt chicken. 

Ua Pou Island, Marquesas

Fruit harvesting at an archaeological site, or was that architectural, or agricultural??

Our first umu (underground bbq).  We speared our own fish.

The best beach in the Marquesas, Tahuata.

The 550 miles that took us 10 days to travel

We left the Marquesas in a real rush. We briefly met a Swiss sailor who gave us a weather forecast and it seemed that we should leave that night or risk being stuck in dead wind for the following week.  So, we dropped the unwashed loads of laundry back on the boat, tore through the boat like a hurricane picking up anything we could trade for some fruit, and quickly said goodbye to all the boats we met while at anchor at Daniel’s Bay on Nuka Hiva. In our rush, we grabbed terrible things to trade- a small bit of rope, a tin of corned beef and a small jar of rum. We luckily were still able to get a stalk of bananas, a few papayas the size of our heads and small unripe pamplemousse.

We managed to set sail before dark and started off with a nice breeze that slowly slowly trickled down to small puffs. As we slowly passed the southern Marquesan islands, we contemplated turning around and waiting for some wind, but we decided that was foolish and should truck on. Truck on we did…at about 2 miles an hour. Eventually, the wind completely died and we ended up drifting for about 3 days not going anywhere in particular. 

We did what most sailors would do while they are waiting for the wind- opened a bottle of wine, played chess, read books, ate all our fruit and watched the stars reflecting on the perfectly glassy water. We were surrounded by stars- it was breathtakingly beautiful!

Although we had very little wind and averaged about 55 miles per day, it was, to date, our favorite passage.  We are sailing in the South Pacific to find small paradises and sometimes forget that the water in between is often the most remote and beautiful part of the world.

Daniel's Bay- a.k.a Danger Bay

Daniel’s Bay in Nuka Hiva was our last anchorage in the lovely Marquesan Islands. We arrived and saw 7 boats already anchored, 5 of which were Canadian. Although we see a fair amount of Canadian boats just about everywhere, it has never felt like a Canadian bacon invasion before.  Felt as though we were anchored off one of the Gulf Islands outside of Vancouver.

The bay is beautiful and the water inviting so we dropped the anchor and swam over to our neighboring boat who we had met before. After climbing aboard, we were told that they had just recently watched a hammerhead shark banging up against their inflatable dinghy. Eeks. The swim back was a quick one…

We enjoyed everything the bay had to offer. Small fun waves that were surfable, a delicious meal hosted by a local family, hiking and, of course- fruit picking.

We soon discovered that the bay is famous for a few things. Firstly, one of the tallest waterfalls is a short hike away and it is the place where a German tourist was murdered a few years ago.  It was hard to imagine a crime like that happening in such a pristine serene place.  

Forgetting about the creepy crawly stuff, we set off for the waterfall, which sounded spectacular. And spectacular it was!  The 1 hourish hike to get there was beautiful and we followed a path that weaved in and out of the trees and through rivers- some deeper than others. Before we arrived to the waterfall, we are greeted with a sign: “Beware of falling rocks” and a bag of helmets.  The waterfall is at the end of a deep gorge that has stunningly high rock walls surrounding you as you approach. You are rewarded by a crisply fresh swim in the pool beneath which we did in the rain. It was spectacular.

As we dried ourselves off and started reminiscing about the swim we just had, we heard a big loud splash in the pool about 10 feet from where we were standing.  We quietly looked at the ripples in the water then slowly craned our heads up to the see the top of the massive cliffs looming over us. Time to pack up and wear the helmets.

We survived the walk and the only injury we suffered was a sore neck from constantly craning our necks upward to spot any loose looking rocks or cocos.

The Marquesas Islands

 We are in the land of abundant mountain peaks, friendly islanders, fruit, beaches and exploration.   Food dominates our days and a typical breakfast is determined by what’s ripe in our many fruit baskets.  Today, for example, I rowed our dinghy (little inflatable boat we use to get around) to shore and sought out 4 baguettes.  With those, Sylvie made French toast while I squeezed fresh OJ. We then had a huge papaya, a mango, two pamplemousses (big sweet grape fruits) and then some baguette dipped in nutella to top it all off. For good measure we usually manage to drink in a coconut or two, which we husk ourselves with a machete.  But today we skipped the cocos because we were too full, which is the norm. 

As if the breakfasts weren’t severe enough, here’s what happened while we were in the town of Taitahu on Tahuata island.  We (our friends aboard Saltbreaker and us 2 on Ustupu) decided that we’d have an Umu with a fresh chicken.  An umu is a underground bbq that you burry in the sand.  We spent the better part of two days cutting new trails in the island tracking rooster sounds.  We never actually saw the foul because the brush was so thick but we stalked them long and hard.  In the process we were hiking the steep cliffs of the island so it wasn’t all bad but we didn’t catch a chicken.  We decided instead we’d use fish.  One morning of fish spearing later and we had 15 fish for our umu.  The umu was a relative success but we still wanted to shoot a chicken with my sling shot.

A day or two later were at one of the two stores in town talking to the owner and he decided to give us a gigantic lobster to welcome us to town.  A truck then pulls up to where we’re hanging out and scoops up the three guys from Saltbreaker and takes them off to collect as much fruit as they can fit in a the back of the pickup truck.  I saw my opportunity to get us a chicken so I asked a local guy how to obtain a chicken.  He starts clicking his mouth (the loud sound you make to imitate a ticking clock) and chickens start appearing from all over the place.  He makes a little slip knot out of string and throws rice all over it.  Before you know it there are a dozen chickens wandering around the trap.  I see a fat hen walk over the trap and he doesn’t pull the string, he waits a few more minutes until this tall cock shows up and that’s our meal.  I’ll spare you the details of the killing and cleaning but suffice to say that we ate well with our lobster, fresh rooster and box of fruit that night. 

Our lives here are pretty simple.  There is almost no internet and when you find it you pay or you have to sit in the post office so we don’t get online much.  Most of our time is occupied with foraging fruit, thinking about where we’ll go next and reminiscing about recent meals. 

We first arrived at one of the biggest island in the group called Hiva Oa, we then sailed a solid 9 miles to the island of Tehuata.  We sailed overnight to Oa Pou, which is where we are currently anchored.  We’ll sail north to Nuku Hiva, the most populous island of the group before we head to the Tuamotu Archipelago.

As always, Sylvie and I are doing great.  No major injuries, however, lots of stubbed toes, some bad homemade haircuts, and a sun burn here or there. 

A bien tot,

Dan, Sylvie & Ustupu

PS.  Sorry for the lack of communication.  Internet is slow and you can only find it in the big cities.  Will upload pics when we are able to. 

Message in a Bottle - The Love Boat

Tonight marks the end of day 13 at sea. Today was a pretty exciting day- caught, killed and then released a massive Dorado (I shed a few tears for that fish), caught another fish which we actually ate,  and played truth or dare (less the truth part) with buddies on the boat Saltbreaker (they are about 1000 miles ahead of us) over SSB. Dares included drinking salt water, snorting pepper, push-ups- you know, the usual. However, the most exciting part of the day was the much anticipated Friday night date night, which we had on Sunday since the days blend into one out here.

We decided to have a date night once a week to have something to look forward to. The date starts off with salt water sponge baths which feel glorious. It is the only "shower" we have all week and we feel quite pampered after splashing ourselves with that cold salty liquid and then lathering up with some soap. We mark the special day by wearing clean clothes- well- a clean t-shirt and undies. Same pants. Now that we are dolled up, we eat a nice meal, drink wine, and watch a movie while cuddling under the stars. There was a perfect breeze tonight and it felt wonderful on our clean skin. Perfectly heavenly. There was also an incredibly golden moon accentuated by the clouds and just as it was emerging, a pod of dolphins surrounded the boat. On nights like this, it feels like I could stay out here forever!

Message in a Bottle - After 11 days alone at sea

We have been at sea now for 11 days and have been completely alone out here. We have not seen a peep of anything- only the occasional dolphin, whale, tweeting birds and flying fish that torpedo their way on the boat and sometimes at us in the middle of the night.

So far, we have experienced a very passive ocean. We have encountered some messy seas, some water in the cockpit, a bit of rain and hot sweltering days, but overall, the ocean and the weather have been very mild and nice to us. Almost too nice- we spent the last 2 days barely moving as the winds were too light to keep the sails full. This means we more or less drifted and bobbed around waiting for the wind to pick up. It is a tough thing to experience going as little as 1 mile an hour when you have over 1,800 miles to go…luckily, the winds have picked up this morning and we are sailing at a whopping average of 5 miles an hour which is actually a very good speed for us. Fingers crossed that this keeps up.

The day long bike ride that cost us a year

So, we decided, even though we hadn't biked in over 6 months and the most exercise we have had recently involves walking to ice cream shops and the occasional stroll here and there, that we would rent some bikes and explore the island of Santa Cruz in the Galapagos. Our first thought was to bike to the of side of the island… the island didn't look that big… stop at caves along the way, have a swim at the beach then bike to a turtle sanctuary on the other side of the island. Piece of cake. We wanted the exercise.

We set off and experienced our first uphill just outside of town. I was instantly 'ompa loompa' red in the face but loving the burn.  Many hills and liters of sweat later, we arrived at the lava caves. Not too bad. We are starting to feel the burn, no longer loving it, but still feels goodish. The caves were interesting but we had lots of sights to see. We walked through, ate some bananas, then were off! We saw a sign pointing uphill for what looked like a place the bike rental guy recommended to us (which was written ineligibly on our map). Looked about right. Vamanos.

This turn in the road is exactly the point where the burn did not feel good anymore. It was actually starting to really hurt.  The road taunted us with all its upwards slants. But the bike rental man recommended this place to us- we must endure. It will be worth it. After what felt like an eternity and we entirely drenched with sweat, we arrived at the end of the road. The name on the sign did not look like the name written on our map. Hmph. We took a wrong very long turn. Luckily we ended up at a reserve and it appears as though we biked up to on the highest peaks on the island.  It was just another steep road to the viewpoint- can't stop now. The view at the top was worth our effort so far. We ate lunch and freshly picked guava at the lookout, it was beautiful. And we had that long downhill road to look forward to. By this point we were beat. So of course the only thing to do was take a nice break then point our bikes to the Eastern side of the island- beach!

The next hour or so ride to the beach had its ups and downs- mentally and physically. At this point the burn ripping our petite muscles apart and giving us very tender bottoms. But we were there! A beautiful remote beach we had all to ourselves. I have never enjoyed a swim as much as I did that day.  I didn't want to leave the beach- but mainly, I didn't want to bike back! At this point we had biked 5 hours and most of that was uphill. But had more to see- to the turtle sanctuary on the other side of the island.

Luckily, we hailed a taxi after about 20 minutes on our bikes and for a steep fee (which was well worth it), he dropped us and our bikes off at the turtle sanctuary. In our limited Spanish, we announce to the unenthusiastic woman working there: " we would like turtles". So she directs to go a certain way, which leads us to another lava cave and she mentions turtles and a lagoon. We go in assuming the turtles are somewhere on the other side near a lagoon.  We get to the other side, no turtles. No lagoon. We walk back to the place barely finding our way in the maze of trails and the woman draws us a map which she doesn't give us. Great. We are set. We decide, since we are running our of daylight hours, to take the bikes down. So we set off downhill towards the lagoon. We find a small lagoony looking thing. No turtles. Keep going downhill. 1 Turtle! Laying in the mud. At the same time, a tour bus passes us coming from further below the hill. Excellent- there must be a road down there. We set off on the rocky dirt path looking for that road. Down we go. And down. And down. No road. The thrill of being able to move with pedaling is overweighing our logical thoughts- it must be around the next turn, or the next or the one after that.

It will be dark in about 1 hour. We, with heads hung low, decide to turn back and endure the painful ride uphill. It was brutal. We were both silent the entire way up. There was just enough light left to see that the turtle we saw earlier was still there. Lucky turtle. I wanted to be sleeping in the mud right then.

We make it to the road just as it is getting dark. The bike store closes in an hour and a half. It starts to rain, than it pours. We bike as fast as we can in the dark, with no streetlights and only a little tiny flashlight each. Mine is on the back of my bag so cars can see us which means- I can't see anything! The most terrifying part was when we passed a pack of dogs who started barking and jumping for our ankles in the dark. Those were mean dogs.

We, somehow, managed to make it back 10 minutes late ridiculously sore, tired, soaking wet, dirty and hungry.  What a ride.

Great property, weird security.

Complete exhaustion.

Lunch

The beach we dream about.