Gresham Family Exodus

The kids of Ailuk were different than other places we had been in that they were. not. shy. at. all. From the first time we stepped on shore we were mobbed by kids of all ages wanting our attention. They wanted to say hi, give us high fives, touch us, follow us. At first, we thought it was really special how they were treating us, but then the first time we went to shore with another cruising couple who had spent several seasons cruising RMI we realized what was going on. Every time they went to shore, they took candy and balloons for the kids. So, the kids weren’t mobbing us because they were friendly or curious, they were mobbing us because they had been conditioned to want and expect stuff from us. This made me so sad.

We had decided a long time ago that that isn’t the way we want to interact with local children, so the next day Tim and the boys didn’t waste any time taking skim boards ashore to play. No candy, no balloons, just a whole lot of fun together. No need for words here, check out the video that Tim put together.

Skimboarding with the boys at Ailuk

Skimboarding video: https://youtu.be/VwYY3UOCdCg

We also spent a few afternoons on shore playing games at the basketball courts. Leave it to Tim to teach the kids dodgeball!

More fun and games with the kids

One afternoon I went to shore on my own to visit some women from whom I had previously purchased some handicrafts, and I was immediately mobbed with requests for candy. I told them no, I don’t have any candy, plus candy is bad for your teeth. As you might imagine this didn’t exactly make me the most popular pulagi to ever visit the village, especially since on my own without Tim and the boys it wasn’t exactly obvious that I could make up for it with fun and games. Initially they scattered away from me, but one by one they found their way back to me and they helped me find my way around. They asked me questions, taught me some new words in the Marshallese language and laughed with me whenever I couldn’t say something correct the first time. We even sang some songs together. I know that they wanted candy, and I have no idea what they actually thought of me, but hopefully they saw me as more of a person just like them than a one-dimensional palagi who brings them stuff. Who knows, they were just kids after all.

While we were still in Majuro, word got around to all the cruisers that the mayor of Ailuk was looking for boats to volunteer to take supplies from Majuro to Ailuk. Since we were the only boat intending to go directly to Ailuk, I gave the mayor a call to let her know we could help. She arranged for a delivery at the wharf, and a couple days before we left, we loaded up Exodus with large bags of rice and flour and cases of motor oil.

Upon arrival in Ailuk, our first stop was to go to shore to say hello to Anious and his wife Emily. Anious is a minister at one of the churches in Ailuk, but all the cruisers know him by his radio callsign “Pumpkin.” There is an SSB cruisers radio net in The Marshalls called The Yokwe Net (Yokwe means hello in Marshallese), and Pumpkin is one of the weekly net controllers. They were expecting us, and after the pleasantries were dispensed with, they asked us about the supplies we brought from Majuro. Emily explained that it had been months since a supply ship had been there and that there was absolutely no rice or flour on the island. She asked if we brought more than what the Mayor had given us to bring, and when I said no, she was visibly distraught. Didn’t we know what they needed? Didn’t we know that we should have brought more? Didn’t we know the school has had to go to half days because the kids aren’t getting enough calories? No! No, we didn’t. And the idea of telling her that we brought what we could given the space available on board rang hollow in my head. They would look at our boat and judge it to be huge (and us to be rich). Anyway, after I got over my own pride of not being appreciated for what we *did* bring, and I realized that she wasn’t trying to make us feel bad but was just genuinely disappointed, I started to feel really, really bad. We probably could have squeezed another 15 lb bag of rice here or there, but when I asked Tim about it, if he thought we should have brought more, his response was priceless. “Well, it is what it is now.”

We didn’t waste any time getting in touch with friends back in Majuro to let them know how much Ailuk needed more supplies. With Pumpkin on the Yokwe net, I have no idea why this wasn’t previously communicated and disseminated among the cruisers more thoroughly.

We had our own supply of rice and flour on board, and I couldn’t resist it when kids from the village would come to the boat to see the boys and they would bring papaya or kasava to trade. I would ask them what they wanted to trade for and they would always say rice or flour. I would give them a sandwich bag full and their faces would light up and they’d smile from ear to ear. Eventually, word got around, and we were getting more requests than we could honor given it would still be weeks before we could reprovision for ourselves.

In the end, as our stay in Ailuk was drawing to a close, we decided to go directly from Ailuk to Kwajalein instead of stopping at more of the outer islands on the way. In Kwajalein it would be possible to provision, so that meant we could leave most of our dry good supplies with the people on Ailuk. We cleaned out our supply of flour, rice, ramen noodles, pasta, breakfast crackers, etc. Our dilemma is that we didn’t know what to do with it all. If we gave it to the acting mayor (the mayor herself was still in Majuro) then the supplies would go into the stores that are sold and any money earned from that would simply line the pockets of the people on the island who already have the most. We also questioned whether we should give it to Anious and Emily to distribute, because, let’s face it, churches can be as political as anything and we worried it wouldn’t necessarily go to the people who needed it most, especially considering that there were other churches on the island too. As it turns out, Tim had become friends with a young man with a family who spends most of his days harvesting copra (more about that later), and we decided to leave our supplies with him, and in return he brought us a bag full of handicrafts made by some of the women in the village, including his wife. If you are questioning why we would trade with them instead of just giving them the food, given that clearly they needed it and clearly we could spare it, then please read my cruising runner blog post that helps explain my thoughts about this.

I had been complaining that I was sick of low-lying atolls. Since leaving Fiji we hadn’t seen even a foot of elevation, and honestly, I was craving even just a hill to climb. Well, Ailuk cured me of such a negative state of mind pretty quickly. I have to say that Ailuk was the most beautiful low-lying atoll we visited during our entire trip (and that includes The Tuamotus!) Since the definition of beauty is such a subjective and emotional thing, it’s difficult to describe exactly what made it so beautiful, but I will give it a shot: Most atolls have islets on the windward side, and those islets are typically long and skinny with the long dimension of the islet perpendicular to the direction breaking ocean waves on the outside of the atoll. In contrast, the windward side of Ailuk is dotted with many short and fat islets (as you can see in the satellite image above) and this creates much more stunning geography. It provides more waterways between the islets that shallow at low tide, which provide that idyllic turquoise water and plenty of striking sandbars that reach out into the lagoon. Perhaps a photo can do it better justice:

Waterways among the islets at Ailuk

We had some friends who were spending their second cyclone season down in New Zealand and were considering heading north to The Marshalls for the following season. So, of course they were curious about how we were liking it, and here is a summarized version of my initial response: “Overall, I’d say coming up here hasn’t given us any new or unique experience that we couldn’t get or haven’t gotten crossing the pacific from French Polynesia to Fiji, *however* coming up here is a great alternative to New Zealand for the cyclone season if, like I said, you want to keep cruising and aren’t ready for easy civilization (and don’t have boat projects to do that require any sort of marine infrastructure).” So, basically, nothing special, but a good alternative to New Zealand. After spending two weeks in Ailuk, I had to seriously amend this idea, because in addition to its incredible natural beauty, Ailuk offered a couple other totally unique experiences.

First of all, they still build traditional outrigger sailing canoes. And I don’t mean like in Majuro where they build them more as an art form in order to wow the tourists, no, I mean they build them in order to use them in their daily lives. On most of the other islands we’ve been to throughout the Pacific the people are dependent on more modern fiberglass fishing boats with outboard engines and gasoline. On Ailuk, they aren’t. They use their outrigger sailing canoes to zip up and down the atoll between villages and back and forth to the pass for fishing expeditions. When we were anchored near the main village, I’d enjoy watching all the men depart on the sailboats for the daily work as I was enjoying my morning coffee, and I’d watch them return in the evening as I was starting dinner preparations. Tim and Brenden were even each lucky enough to go for rides (on separate occasions).

Outrigger sailing canoe at Ailuk

Brenden gets a ride

Another unique characteristic of The Marshalls is their handicrafts, and apparently Ailuk is known for having some of the most skilled women of all the islands. The weaving is much different than what we’ve seen throughout the rest of the pacific: it’s much more detailed and intricate and beautiful. They use pandanus leaves, coconut palm leaves, the ribs of the palm leaves, hibiscus fibers, to create beautifully ornate baskets, bowls, and wall hangings. (A few pieces from my collection are shown in the photo below.) On Ailuk it is a skill passed down from generation to generation. It’s a source of income for the island as most of their products are exported to Majuro to sell to tourists. The cruisers who go to Ailuk get to purchase directly from the women of the island, and they sell to us at the wholesale price rather than the marked-up Majuro price, and in many cases they prefer to trade for items they need rather than money.

Handicrafts from Ailuk

We waved good-bye to True Blue V as we dropped our mooring at Anemomet on the evening of Wed, Feb 24. We timed it so that we were heading out the pass just as the last bit of light left the sky, and we were immediately slammed with 3 meter seas on the nose. After a month of sitting flat calm on moorings inside the Majuro lagoon this was a bit of a wakeup call.

Exodus track from Majuro to Ailuk

The first night was ridiculous. I’m pretty sure I didn’t sleep a wink off-watch because I kept catching air while laying in bed. We got a little bit of relief from the sea state as we hugged the coast of Aur and Maleolap on our way by (see satellite image to the left).

The second night was a bit better, because once we reached the latitude equal with the island of Wotje we fell off the wind a bit and headed on a rumline to Ailuk.

We entered the pass on the southwest side of the atoll. There are three more commonly used passes up on the northwest side, but we thought we could save some time if we used this pass and by all means it looked viable on the satellite imagery. Unfortunately we had poor timing and when we arrived we would have had the sun in our faces as we transited the lagoon over to the village. And we had been told that Ailuk has lots of bombies in its lagoon, so we decided to wait until the sun was a little more overhead before we went in. While we waited Tim and Alex dropped the dinghy and went on a scouting mission as Brenden and I just floated around in Exodus. Once we entered the lagoon we had a couple of miserable hours bashing upwind as I stood on the roof on bombie watch. In the end I’m not sure we saved that much time since both the sun angle and the wind angle from the northern passes to the village would have been a lot better. Oh well, it’s always an adventure, and you learn as you go.

We entered Ailuk through the SW pass which meant sun in our faces and wind on our nose as we crossed over to the village

Ready to enter the pass at Ailuk

Majuro to Ailuk Passage summary:

• Duration: 1 day, 18 hrs, 47 minutes
• Route miles: 225 nmi (this is the distance of the passage route we planned in the chartplotter.)
• Track miles: 229 nmi (this is the actual distance over the ground that we traveled.)
• Log miles: 243 nmi (this is the distance derived from the log paddle wheel, so it is influenced by the current.)
• Average SOG: 5.4 kt (Speed over ground)
• Average VMG: 5.3 kt (Velocity made good)

Engine summary: Port only 0:00, Starboard only 0:00, Both 4:17 hrs

Although The Marshalls is generally considered an alternative for cyclone season, it’s not like cyclones don’t go there. Yes, it’s rare, certainly more rare than somewhere like Fiji, but they still happen. In fact, the analysis presented at this website (http://thegiddyupplan.blogspot.com/2014/10/typhoons-el-nino-and-republic-of.html) concluded that it’s more risky to go to The Marshalls than to French Polynesia or The Cook Islands and only slightly less risky than Samoa. So, what the hell were we doing?

Well, the fallacy in the conclusion from the website is that it doesn’t consider the fact that you don’t have to go straight to RMI from Fiji (or wherever) in October or November as you bail in advance of cyclone season in the southern hemisphere. (I submitted a comment on their website pointing this out, but they didn’t post it. Go figure.)

You see, the worst months for cyclones (they call them typhoons up there) in RMI are Nov-Jan. So, if you went straight there in October or November, then yes, your risk of encountering a cyclone might be on par with Samoa. However, what most people do is leisurely cruise Tuvalu and Kiribati and then arrive in Majuro at the right time for them based on their own risk tolerance. For us that meant late January/Early February. We were a little more conservative than some, but the data also showed that the risk of a cyclone in RMI during an El Nino event was MUCH higher, and since we were smack dab in the middle of an El Nino event, we played it safe. And it should be noted that our departure from Kiribati was actually delayed by a cyclone that formed near the equator (cyclone Pali) and was at one point forecast to go right over Majuro (though, in the end it didn’t).

So, as long as we timed our departure from Fiji and our arrival in Majuro appropriately, we would have a much lower risk than staying anywhere in the South Pacific (especially since in an El Nino year the Eastern region, such as French Polynesia, has higher cyclone risk than normal.)

OK, with that resolved, what about the dreaded westerlies I kept hearing about? For some reason it took me a little while to figure out that the “westerlies” were just long-range effects of cyclones. Both Tuvalu and RMI, and to a lesser extent Kiribati, are subject to strong westerlies when there is a cyclone present to the south or north, respectively. In the southern hemisphere cyclones spin clockwise, so the wind direction north of the eye comes from the west. In fact, we experienced a bit of this phenomenon when we were in Tuvalu as a result of one of the first low pressures of the season. We were in Nanumea and had great protection, but some of our friends in Funafuti had a rougher ride. Likewise, in the northern hemisphere cyclones spin counterclockwise, so the wind direction south of the eye comes from the west.

RMI had a pretty rough season with regards to westerlies, and we could see the evidence of it when we arrived. There were boats washed up on shore as well as trash piled up. People who had been there during the entire season told stories of 50 knot winds, which means getting pummeled by miles of fetch from across the lagoon, and The Shoreline dinghy dock had been destroyed. It wasn’t much fun at all. But based on the timing of our arrival to RMI, we didn’t have to worry about any of this. We pretty much had 18-25 knot tradewinds from the ENE the *entire* time we were there. Seriously, passage planning all of a sudden became easy again as there were no fronts or troughs to watch out for and no periods of light wind. But while passage *planning* was easy, the actual *passage* to Ailuk wasn’t exactly a walk in the park, because once again we found ourselves bashing to weather.

Evidence of previous strong Westerlies in Majuro

Getting to Majuro was sort of the beginning of the end. Way back in Fiji we had decided that once we got to Majuro, we would begin the task of getting Exodus listed and ready to sell. It had always been this nebulous task out there in the distant future, but now it was time.

And we hated it. We ended up spending two weeks being grouchy and not getting much done.

Obviously, for many reasons we couldn’t languish indefinitely in Majuro; the most pressing of those reasons being we still wanted to cruise some of the outer islands of RMI, and the longer we stayed in Majuro, the less time we had to explore. So, we put our project management hats on, made a list, assigned actions, and declared, “Go team!” I can’t say that the grumpiness subsided*, since putting Exodus up for sale represented the near end of our travels, but at least we had a plan to get the hell out of Majuro. (*Except for Alex. He was ready to back to California, for sure!)

We did a ton of cleaning, and the boys did the bulk of the work topsides. I used the favorable light of the evening sun to snap photos of sections of the boat I decluttered each day, and Tim and I went back and forth writing the text for the website and editing each other’s stuff.

There was one major repair project which had to do with the galley sink. Tim enlisted the help of another cruiser, and they spent several days repairing the counter around the sink. They had to be creative in their solution, since we weren’t exactly in an ideal yacht services location, but it ended up turning out really good. Tim is always so meticulous in the work that he does, and this project was no exception.

Repair to the galley sink

Our website went live on Feb 20, and we had Exodus listed on 5 or 6 yacht sales website by the end of the next day. We were hopeful we’d have an offer soon, so all the was left was provisioning and passage planning and then we were on our way.

Link to our website: https://lagooncatamaran4sale.wordpress.com/

It’s really a shame I don’t have any photos for this story, so I guess I’ll have to do my best describing the whole horrible ordeal.

There’s a coin operated laundry facility near the dinghy dock, and they also have a service where you can just leave your laundry and pay the ladies there to do it for you. This is what I did almost every time, because even though I haven’t worked in years I still somehow convince myself that my time is still quite valuable. One day I bucked the norm and decided to wash our salon cushion covers myself, because for some reason I had this idea that I could do a better job. After running them once through a wash cycle, they were still pretty dirty, and I remembered that in New Zealand I spot treated them with detergent and that seemed to work pretty well, so I gave that a try. These were high efficiency front loading machines that warned about using too much detergent, so I tried to compensate for the added detergent used in spot treating by putting less in the cup for the wash cycle. Unfortunately, I misjudged this by an order of magnitude.

When the second cycle was done, all you could see through the door was solid white and when I opened the door (huge mistake!) suds just started to pour out uncontrollably all over the floor. Seriously, it was like something out of a TV show. I was so embarrassed and I had nothing to even attempt to try to clean it up. The Marshallese ladies there were very kind to me about it but of course I couldn’t understand what they were saying to each other! They helped me with the cleanup operation, and I told them that from now on I will ask them to do the laundry for me. Sorry, no photos. I was too busy being appalled.

It all started when Tim told the boys they had to use their internet access to learn something. Brenden watched a TED talk having something to do with artificial limbs (honestly, I can’t remember all the details), and Alex watched one about how it’s possible to learn anything in 20 hours. Inspired by that, he dusted off Andrew’s old guitar that we’d been carting around the Pacific for three years and decided he was going to learn to play. So, using YouTube videos for instruction he was quickly able to play his first song on my birthday: Chasing Cars by Snow Patrol.

After that, he was hooked. He looked up other songs he likes and pretty soon he was playing Hey There Delilah (Plain White T’s), Time of Your Life (Green Day), and basically everything by Passenger. It was awesome to see him so committed and passionate about something. So, now when Tim and Brenden are gone for hours spearfishing Alex picks up his guitar and applies himself to learning something new. He’s always loved music, and so it’s especially fun for him to play the songs he likes. And this may come as a surprise to some (but others know all too well) that I love singing along!

Alex finds a passion