Honolulu Star-Advertiser © Susan Scott
Oct 6, 2006
Six months ago, I flew to Tahiti where several months earlier I’d left my 37-foot sailboat, Honu. Then I sailed to Australia.
The trip was 5,028 miles long. Honu’s average speed was 5.5 mph. Our total moving time, sailing and motoring, was 908 hours. That means if I’d done it all at once, it would have taken 38 days.
But, oh, the experiences I would have missed then. All were memorable; a few shine bright.
One outstanding moment of the trip came the day my two Hawaii friends and I walked into a bank in Neiafu, a small Tongan town in that country’s remote island group, Vavau. A customer stepped up to Steve and said, “I know you. You took care of me at the Wahiawa Hospital emergency room.”
Steve, a doctor there, didn’t remember this Wahiawa resident, who was in Tonga visiting relatives, but it didn’t matter. It was a grand moment, a reunion almost, full of big smiles and warm handshakes.
Of my wildlife encounters, New Caledonia’s sea snakes were the most interesting. The snakes there were beautifully colored, gentle in nature and had incredible lifestyles. I’ll always remember standing on a white-sand beach watching a yellow-lipped sea krait exit the water, casually side-wind past several gaping humans and then curl up in the weeds for a nap.
A great part of New Caledonian’s sea snakes was the attitude of residents toward these reptiles.
“Um, a sea snake crawled into your shop,” Scott told a woman who was reopening her kiosk after a lunch break. “That’s OK,” she said, shrugging. “He lives here.”
A popular shop in Noumea even sells clothing embroidered with cartoon sea snakes.
A close second to the snakes is an animal that showed up on the boat this week in Australia’s Whitsunday Islands.
Craig, who joined me for the grand finale of my voyage, whispered from the cockpit, “Susan, come quick. Bring the camera.”
I flew up the companionway, and there on the lifeline perched a wild, yellow-crested cockatoo, eyeing the potato chip Craig had in his hand.
So Craig gave it to him. Soon the three of us were all in the cockpit together sharing an afternoon snack. The fearless parrotlike bird seemed to almost pose for the camera, but when it heard its friends calling from the nearby forest, it left us.
That magnificent bird gave me my best wildlife photos of the trip.
My scariest moments on the boat occurred on dark, stormy nights in big, rowdy seas. But the storms always passed, the sun always rose and my confidence gradually grew until eventually I had my most triumphant moment: landfall in Australia.
This Sunday, I’ll be flying home from Sydney. My return is bittersweet. I’m desperately homesick and am dying to see my family, friends and Hawaii, which is still, for me, the best island group in the world.
On the other hand, when I board that plane, my South Pacific sailing adventure will be over.
Then again, maybe not. I’ve now got a boat in Australia.