Song for Zenna

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We are seeing people arrive from the Pacific and it reminds us that we've spent more time in Sydney than expected.  We've really enjoyed visiting so many suburbs.  Although we both lived in Sydney in the past we've never experienced such a variety of places.  From Newport on the northern beaches to Cronulla in the south and a few inner city anchorages with million dollar views.

It's been time to catch up on boat jobs and Zenna is slightly more spruced up than she was.  New upholstery in the saloon and a luxurious new sprung mattress.  Plus loads of engine work and rigging.  I haven't been able to get on with the varnishing unfortunately - but hey that can wait...!

Really looking forward to catching up with folk arriving from the Pacific.  Have enjoyed all your blogs over the past few months.  It feels as if we have a lot less to report now we are in a western world again.

Rare performance from Mark
 

However, I have been meaning to share our 'Song for Zenna'  written over the past few years.  It goes to the tune of 'Riding along in my automobile'.  So here it is with thanks to Chuck Berry.

Sailing along in our westerly yacht

All our troubles long forgot

Sunshine dazzles in the sky

Waves are gently rolling by

Cruisin’ and playing the radio

With no particular place to go

 Cruising along in our forty nine

Never thought we’d have the time

The work is hard and the heat is mean

Now we have a sweet machine

Midnight blue and very sleek

In blue water she’s never meek

 

Racing along in our westerly yacht

All our troubles long forgot

The wind is up and waves crash by

The cruising chute is flyin’ high

Sailing and playing the radio

With no particular place to go 

Screaming along in our forty nine

I shout for Mark to catch his line

He’s hooked a gold dorada fish

It's bigger than he would wish

The fish fights hard as he reels it in

Our westerly just keeps goin’ 

Smashing around on the ocean waves

Fish and westerly fight like braves

I somehow manage to calm the sails

And the fish comes over the rails

Sailing and fishing all day long

Sometimes singing our Westerly song 

Mark feels the second line should be changed to ‘All my troubles have just begun’..

 

Russell singing 'Song for Zenna'

We did meet someone in Fiji who attempted to sing and play it - I've been told less words are needed!

 

We are now looking forward to some warmer weather.  We've actually been to the beach twice but then the cold returns and it's back to the boat and some heating.  It's amazing how different working on the boat is in cold weather - you just don't feel like it.  All so different with the sun on your back surrounded by a turquoise sea.

Still a bit chilly

Hop on Hop off - Sydney

Sydney Harbour provides the perfect backdrop to reflect on our travels.  As we slowly ease into life in a western world, we are missing the strangest things.  We’ve decided that public transport and buses in particular are a window on a nation. 

Panamanian Bus

Of course there have been plenty of places with no buses and walking is the go.  Apart from the exercise it’s a great way to meet the locals as you wander passed their houses or greet them on the road.  It took a while to get used to greeting everyone you pass.  In fact they regard it as a huge insult if you don’t greet everyone when you enter a shop or get on a bus.  Of course we are now back in the ‘head down, I’m not  here/your not here land’. 

Public transport barely exists in French Polynesia except in Tahiti.  So walking and hitching is how you get about.  It rarely takes long to get a lift with colourful locals.  Some islands it would be Polynesians who stopped and others only the French – we never worked out why.  It was an act of faith getting into their vehicles which were rust buckets.  One car had no floor under my seat - alarming to see the road flashing past.  But the drivers were always generous to a fault often getting involved in the project we were undertaking – ferrying us around to various shops or repair businesses for good old Zenna. 

But back to the subject of buses.  Most places have a privatised system which in my book is a real positive.  The buses are colourful and personal.  The drivers are local and know their passengers.  And of course most of the passengers know each other – even if they don’t conversations soon strike up.  That’s if you can be heard above the music.  We had some ear splitting moments on Panama buses when we were crowded through the back door and jammed up against the back wall of the bus right next to the head height speakers which were blasting music that would have been deafening even at the front of the bus. 

 

More time was spent on Panama buses than we would have wished.  It was an hour and a half to the nearest supermarket and another hour and a half to Panama City if you needed to get anything important.   The buses are old US school buses pensioned off to Central America where they are given a Latin makeover.  Religious icons fight with Christmas decorations, football memorabilia and fluffy feather boas.  Working windows are a novelty and most of the doors are long gone.  But everyone is happy and friendly as you bunch 3 to a seat and children are passed around to sit on laps. 

Ian and Kirsty not too impressed with the bus??

 

Santa Monica, Colombia has the same US variety of buses and makeover, but the passengers are less sophisticated.  In both countries the buses are known as chicken buses, but in Colombia we found out why.  A couple of rows ahead of us someone had a bag full of chicks being taken home for rearing.  They were even handing them out to other passengers.  The chicks were not happy as we discovered when we moved seats only to find a damp mess from an over excited bird.  A little further along the road, the bus knocked down a fully grown hen.  The conductor quickly got down and threw it into the luggage compartment.  Never sure if he was hiding the evidence or taking it home for dinner. 

 

How do they stay so clean?

Fiji has a similar vintage of buses but their country of origin was never established.  They didn’t have to worry about windows not working – there were none.  Just large spaces – if it rained they could let down tarps to keep the worst of the rain out.  These open windows proved very useful when we had to get a bean bag on the bus.  Mark simply passed it through the gap and the passengers had a fun few moments passing it around until it reached me.  I was always amazed at how pristine the school kids were in their uniforms despite the clouds of dust that would envelope us. 

Bit breezy Mark

But our favourite place for buses has to be Grenada.  They use mini-buses with a driver and conductor who opens the sliding door.  I really missed their reggae/soca soundtracks when we got to Latin America with their moody salsas.  Grenadian buses have routes they ply and there are so many of them you rarely have to wait for one to come along.  Then if you want them to take you closer to home you can pay a bit more and they drop you off.   That’s another factor all these buses have in common – they are dirt cheap.   

We had 21 in one of these once

Grenada buses also act as an escort service.  People hand their kids over to them (some only a couple of years old) and the conductor will make sure they are looked after on the bus and handed over to someone at their destination.  Try that in London or Sydney.  We also heard that a German Cruiser who became the worse for wear during Carnival and was found by the roadside was put on a bus to where most of the cruisers are moored.  He woke up the next day near his dingy (they must have had to carry him quite a way) with his wallet in his pocket intact. 

This one's called Spit it Out

 

VIP comfort - cruiser night out to Fish Friday

That’s not to say they were perfect.  Many a time you could see the driver of the bus with his bottle of beer in the door pocket which he would discreetly swig from time to time.  This may explain why some of the locals would only get on certain buses - although they were all going the same way and charged the same fares.  Overcrowding was another factor and you could get pretty cramped during peak periods.  The most we experienced was 21 in a 12 seater.  A child on every lap and more.  How can you not get to know people in those situations. 

But for overcrowding, Dominican Republic claims the crown.  They don’t have buses just taxis and scooters.  Mark got the front seat in one taxi and was pretty pleased with himself until 2 or was it 3 very large ladies got in the front as well.  As they say there ‘How many can you fit in a taxi?’  Answer ‘One more’.

 

So now we are getting used to the sterile system.  Cards that have to be purchased before you can get on the bus, swiping so no need to bother the driver – no conductor of course.  Then sitting in pristine conditions with the aircon up high enough to freeze your groceries.  Your fellow passengers are thumbing away at their ‘social media’ sites, ears blocked by their huge headphones.  Welcome to Western civilisation.

Australia Bound!

 Now I know I said sailing Fiji to New Caledonia was a pleasant and uneventful crossing, but we were truly blessed by the fair weather fairy (thanks Aunty Jenny) coming into Australia.

We came out of the lagoon at New Cal with another yacht ‘Perla Alba’ and took the rhum (straight) line. We knew when we got close to Aus that we would have to alter course due to currents, and the storms off Coffs Harbour might require us to divert to Brisbane.

The wind was steady, and as it was our last leg to Aus, we kept plenty of sail out to keep us going along with the swell. Now the wind built over the next couple of days, as did the seas,……and then, the wind disappeared. This was unfortunate; the boat was going well, we were making good time, but we were forced to down sails and motor for 10 hours.

This turned out to be good! There was a noticeable decrease in the swell, and we took the time to rest and have some good meals.

The wind came back, steady, so we got the sail out again to keep going with the swell as before. And as before, the wind built over the next couple of days, as did the seas,……and then, the wind disappeared. This was unfortunate, the boat was going well, we were making good time, but we were forced to down sails and motor for another 10 hours.

However, this was good! We couldn’t believe our luck, the swell decreased, and we rested.

Yep, the wind came back…..etc, etc, until we reached the coast of Aus, just North of Coffs.

Marion woke me when the sun rose and she could see the land. Up I rushed, eyes welled, and I took a deep breath, “can you smell it, can you smell it?” I yelled, “take a deep breath”. Marion’s eyes lit up in amazement like a young girl in a candy store, “I can smell it!”. On the last deep breath you could smell the eucalyptus oils being carried east down off the Great Dividing Range and across the ocean to where we were gently sailing, almost ghosting, along. The fresh cool mist was amazing. Tunes of being ‘home among the gum trees’ were sung and we settled into breakfast while being in awe of where we actually were, on the other side of the Pacific at last.

Our last couple of hours saw the wind decrease, seas becalmed, and us wondering how it was all going to be. Would Marion be allowed into the country following all her bother with Visas….other tunes came to mind like Jimmy Barnes ‘Cryin like a refugee’.

What a journey!

Now THAT was a long way.....

We arrived safely in the harbour, dropped anchor, and ate all we could that we knew was not allowed into Aus. Formalities done and the marina informed us we could stay at our berth. Boat cleaned up, walk ashore, and shopping to replenish our supplies. Where we could not manage to eat everything the customs guys relieved us of the rest.

We spent a couple of weeks in Coffs; shopping, phones, IT, banks, walking, bike rides, restaurants & pubs. I think we were in a bit of shock of being there, but we were not yet at our destination of sailing through Sydney Heads. The weather had not been nice along the coast and by all accounts no one could believe the great crossing we had. Perla Alba came in 24 hours after us.

The trip down the coast to Sydney was awful; confused seas and no wind brought on feelings of seasickness. But as we approached the heads we got a feisty wind from the stern quarter that picked us up and shot us to the entrance of Port Jackson, Sydney Harbour.

The phone rang, it was ‘Marine Rescue Sydney’ as they had been trying to radio us to see if we were okay….we told them we were nearly there. Then another phone call, brother David, to see where we were and to tell us that Sydney was in ‘lock down’. Now we are not used to getting so many phone calls, and were not sure what this ‘lock down’ was all about. (this was the morning of the devastating Lindt café siege)

How calm the Pacific all seems now!

Despite the awful passage and terrible news our spirits rose as we entered through the heads. Here we were, journeys end……or journeys beginning! What will be next.

and through the heads we go! 

time to raise our colours

Australian Pride

There was no fanfare. We motored through a calm and eerie Sydney Harbour with the sun only glancing off the Sydney Opera House at one stage. There certainly was not a lot of activity going on anywhere. We continued up the river and took a berth at Gladesville Bridge Marina.

the only sun, on the Opera House

........we can only guess what is happening in town.

The next week we got our bearings, all before Christmas shopping and enjoying events on the harbour.  Its good to spend some time with family after our 6 year trip and wondering what, or where we will be next……….

New Cal Stop Off

A pleasant and uneventful crossing was had, even if I did lose 2 dorado! But it was nice to be back in French territory…..never thought I would say it, but its all about the food.

 

one that got away!

the obligatory arrival breakfast.......next time.....Australia!

the lobsters were huge.

We rested up, stocked up on food, and saw the Windsurfing World Championships which was quite a spectacle.

Windsurfers galore...

....and plenty of wind!

But, after 2 weeks, it was time to head off. Looks like a good weather window, though we need to check the weather when we get closer to Coffs, some terrible storms are ripping up the coast and we may have to divert to Brisbane.

Pit Stop Fun in Fiji

Well we certainly had some fun in Fiji, even if most of the time was spent in the marina at Vuda Point, a pit stop really.

out on the hard!

mini bar, mini bar

After our arrival check in we were given a berth in the tranquil small and petite pond. Works lists came out, potential suitors to carry out said work were engaged, and before we knew it we were out of the water and on the hard to; change cutlass bearing, check shaft alignment, re-new rudder seals steering cog and bearings, and repaint antifoul. All went well in the end though someone swapped our relatively new compass with their older one (we didn’t notice until we were on our way to New Caledonia).

A days work usually ended by a cool refreshing dip in the resorts pool next door and the mobile ‘mini bar’ was always a good indication of time to knock off.

croquet lawn bbq

..... the haloumi got smashed!

While we were out of the water we accommodated a cabin room, then upgraded ourselves to the cottage. This meant we didn’t have to eat out all the time and we had our own shower and deck. We took it upon ourselves to host a croquet lawn bbq  which saw no less than 3 guitars come out and 2 bbq’s raging in action. Everyone was amazed at what I was putting on the bbq….haloumi cheese…it got the thumbs up! The bbq was bettered however by some Americans holding a pot luck (everyone brings their own meat and a salad to share) who provided a pig, cooked by the locals in a hungi oven, for all to enjoy.

the 'Frightened Pig' pot luck!

Our trips to Lautoka, for shopping in the market and the few stores, was always accompanied by some bhajis, rotis, or curries giving us our fill of spice. Bhoros, our 72 year old day worker gave us his lunch each day in exchange for a sandwich. His wife made great rotis which we couldn’t keep up with so many a curry was had back at the cottage as well.

spice stock up at he market

keep going Bhoros! No money no funny!

So many functions were put on by the Boatshed bar at the marina, with cruisers coming in and heading out again on a regular basis. We became a part of the furniture after a while, but we weren’t the only ones. Some people stay in the marina for 6 months at a time, never moving their boat! Extremely social, and the Fijians are always friendly.

We managed to get a few days cruising at Musket Cove, but is was a fairly quiet affair being near the end of the season. In any case, we had to get our skates on to get to New Caledonia and onto Australia if we had any chance of beating cyclone season!

another cruiser on the way out..

Zenna prepared and looking good!

...the Fijian farewell choir.

Fiji however…..we will be back!