Fahiti ho!

 It has been pointed out to me by someone who would be in a position to know that I am not the inventor/originator of the Friday Happy Hour tradition.  In fact, there has been a threat to protest to Blogger about false claims, etc. In a previous post, I claimed to have started a new tradition re the sacred happy hour.  Given the context of the post, it seemed clear to me that I meant in our little group in Savusavu, Fiji.  Alas, when the corporate lawyers got done with my statement, the accusation that I had overstepped my authority became dogma,  that the origin of the Friday HH was clearly on the deck of a house in West Hancock, MI and not anywhere else and that I had no right to make claims to the contrary.  (I won't mention the precedents set out on the canal toward McLain State Park that would have, to my under-educated legal mind - a perhaps more compelling case for claiming the actual 'origin'.) So, to correct the record in front of the entire universe (that doesn

 Yep, it's 44 minutes after the official start of the new year.  What a great time at Copra Shed for the New Year's Eve party.  All maybe 20 of us.  We toasted the new year in with the last dregs of my Talisker. Time for bed.

 Big NewYear's Eve party starts in about an hour and a half.  Copra Shed Marina:  $20 cover ($10 US) gets you a free drink and finger foods from 6:30 -7:30.  Good band - heard them before.  Think I'll try the pizza tonight.  Jeff said something about Scottish tradition requiring scotch, so the rest of the Talisker is coming with me.  I think I'll lay out the ibuprofen ahead of time tonight... So Happy New Year from Savusavu Fiji!   Now let us toast John Barleycorn, each man a glass in hand.  And may his great posterity n'er fail in olde Scotsland. Happy Hour update:  Went over big time.  Eight liveaboards on Jeff and Jose's catamaran.  Weather cooperated - beautiful night.  My Bar Mix was a big hit, as was the bag of ice cubes from the gas station.  I think I've started a new tradition.

 So I said to myself..."Self!  Why don't we have a Friday Happy Hour here?"  And Self said, "That's a good question, Dave.  Why don't we?" And all the other boaters agreed.  So tomorrow night we have HH on Jeff and Jose's boat.  They have a catamaran with a lot of deck space.  The rains have been over by 2 pm most of these days, but we'll have to keep an eye on that.  I'm going to bring a bag of ice cubes from the gas station.  Hope no one falls off the boat. And look what I found in the IGA this afternoon!  $2 US for 4 oz.

 I had some random pics of the marina and moorings from the trip up the mast.  Thought they might be of interest. A view down the creek.  The town of Savusavu in the distance. You can see the bamboo rafts the kids use to go floating out to the coral shallows to get sea cucumbers.  Left-hand side of the pic.

 OK, I know y'all always wanted to see what it was like inspecting a sail track in the mast.  So there are two ways:  1)   The tried and true conventional way by hoisting a hapless individual in a bosun's chair secured (hopefully) by a safety line.  Then you have to rely on said individual's recollection of what he or she saw.  Meanwhile, they are cleaning out their pants. However - there is option 2:  The Chesney Option.  A cutting-edge AI technique using quantum gyroscopy  coupled with soloton imagery to  provide the world at large an experience that James Cameron only wishes he could provide. But first, the technology.  I call it the "Chesney-1" for obvious reasons. If the purpose of the various components is unclear at this point, the following legend should help. And finally, ready to launch the Chesney-1 on its ten-minute mission - to seek out life and new civilizations, to find the binding spot in the sail track, to go where no man wants to go... And the re

 I have the cutest grandkids in the world!

 Ahhh, the Yamaha 15 HP two-stroke.  Very popular for its reliability.  Except when it ain't.  I had had some issues with the idle on the dinghy outboard for some time, but was loath to tackle a carb repair because, well, there's no good place to work on it.  I half considered taking it off the dinghy and mounting it onshore, but then I wouldn't have access to the store of tools on the boat. Well, it finally quit altogether.  Wouldn't start at all.  And this was the day after I had come in from Cousteau having intended to use it to get further out onto the reef.  The winds did me a favor there.  I would have been rowing back to the boat. Now my hand is forced.  All the cards are on the table.  Just waiting for the turn and the river.  But wait!  There is something called 'YouTube' and it happens to have the definitive how-to video of carb overhaul on the Yamaha.  (It also has the idiot who says "This is my first attempt at taking the carb off my outboard&qu

 In the last post I casually mentioned Curly's boat.  Curly died, and one of the other cruisers here is in charge of his 'estate'.  Which includes,(and may be exclusive to) his boat.  Curly's mooring was one of the ones we checked Sunday, so I had a chance to inspect the boat up close and personal.  And the executor was in another dinghy so we had a chance to talk. "So what do you think you can get for this hunk of junk?" I asked in my most innocent voice.  "I haven't heard your offer yet," was the response.  "Weill I'm not going to voice a number because it's likely you'll take it," says me, ever so mindful of the trap being set for the naive.  He kind of nodded his head and laughed. So, friends, want to buy a boat in Fiji?  It floats, which is more than I can say for some units out here.   C'mon, you know you want it... Video:   https://www.instagram.com/reel/CmaYEWyqMHS/?igshid=MWI4MTIyMDE=

 So, too, are the days of our lives.  Mixed soap operas are like mixed metaphors.  There - wise words from Fiji. So Jose (pronounced Yoh-say; she's Dutch) called me up and asked if I would ferry a diver around to check on moorings since I seem to have the only functional dinghy with a motor.  (!)  I said, "Sure."  So I hung around all day Saturday waiting for the call only to find out that he was actually coming Sunday.  Ok, whatever.  Saturday was a nice pleasant day with light overcast and no wind.  Sunday was rainy and hell-bent on blowing me off the water. Anyway, I picked up Colin and his dive gear and ferried him out to Jose's boat.  I tried to impress him with my acumen about diving that I picked up by osmosis from Bill's boat.  He didn't seem to believe me.  Then I had to zip up his wet suit for him.  "Grab the tether, it's about ten inches long - attached to the zip." Sorry, there ain't no tether there, pal.  This ain't my first

 This blog comes to you courtesy of Digicel, one of two cell phone providers available in Fiji.  And they seem to be very nice people:  They gave me an additional 120 gigs on my data plan plus some other stuff that they gave up trying to explain to me.  I noticed this 'bonus' expired in a few weeks, but didn't care because I still had 120 gigs that I had paid for with my hard-earned $20 Fiji.  That's right, 120 gigs for basically ten bucks US.   So the extras were not touched and went away.  Then I said to myself..."Self!  What happens to my unused data at the end of the month?  Does it roll over?"  Considering that I had used maybe a half gig at this point I figured maybe I could last all four months out here for ten bucks.  That would be awesome.  They don't call me 'Cheapsney' for nothin'!  I decided to go to the source - the Digicel kiosk at the bus terminal in town. Now to call it a 'bus terminal' is probably misleading.  There'

 The old lady really looked beat sitting at her stall in the veggie market.  I paused, thinking maybe I could buy something.  I already had a pineapple and some bananas from my favorite vendor, but still... Oh! She has ginger.  Fresh ginger!  Cool.  I used the paste last night.  "Is this ginger?" I asked stupidly.  "Yes, yes, fresh ginger.  You buy?  Two dollar."  Well hell, for two bucks Fiji ($1 US) I could sure use a root or two.  So she picks up the paper plate and wraps the whole thing up!  I gave her a $2 Fiji coin and she was so happy. So what am I going to do with all this ginger?  (If you put a comma after 'this' it could be a line from Gilligan's Island.  Hence the Jonas Grumby shout out in the title.) Gonna be handing this stuff out like party favors around the dock, methinks.

 This was going to be my first totally made from scratch meal.  And a one-pot to boot.  Trouble is, I didn't have the Dreadnought with me.  (For the blissfully uninformed, the Dreadnought is a frying pan large enough to cook massive one-pot meals on the dive trips. It has a permanent home on Degree of Freedom.) (And D of F is Bill's boat.) (Which isn't here.)  Enough with the parentheses.   So without the service of the mighty Dreadnought, I was forced to make chicken fried rice in stages.  Still, it came together very nicely.  The two liters of Fiji Bitter didn't hurt.  

 Ok, it's been a while since I had a good rant. You know, the kind that winds up with me pounding the table?  Yeah, that kind.  And of course it wouldn't be a good rant if it were anything of importance, right? So here I am in the cockpit sipping a Shiraz with crackers and cheese,  minding my own business and enjoying the sunset. Then I look carefully at the label.  Mind you, this is a cheap Shiraz - not some tony fancy-dan wine with hints of rutabaga and garlic, untapped from the cask until 2:30 this afternoon.  No, this is your everyday, 'Look at all the cases we bought' kind you get at the Savusavu liquor store, such as it is. Cockpit table take note:  Your days are numbered. Now this everyday little offering has the temerity to suggest pairings.  Pairings! With f*****g what?  Oh, let's lowbrow this whole experience some more and suggest...pizza!  Yes, friends and neighbors, this swill from The Land Down Under (Where beer does flow and men chunder) actually think

  Ah, a nice relaxing sunset at last.    Been a few days of clouds and rain - no good to sit in the cockpit and enjoy the sunset.    It was kinda clear Sunday night; we stopped the taxi in town to get out and watch the space station go past.    Too much reflected light but we did see it. I could hear the 'slap, slap' of an incompetent swimmer near the boat but didn't pay much heed - there's always kids going out to the reef to search for sea cucumbers which they 'sell to the chinese', according to them. So I was a bit taken aback when the boat rocked a bit and a head popped up from the swim ladder.    "Hello, Dave, been a while."    Too dark to really make out her face, but I would know that voice anywhere.    "Shirley!    I haven't seen you since Panama!"    Shirley levered her ample mass up into the cockpit into the light.    "And what happened to your green Mohawk?"    She ran her hand over her head and replied, "Got too

  The marina had a 'full moon' party last Friday night.    It's a potluck where all the cruisers and liveaboards    gather and, well, drink.    Nice gab fest.    Met the folks who run the animal clinic here in Savusavu.    Kind of a shoestring operation but been going for seven or eight years.    Jim and I made annoyances of ourselves proselytizing about thorium based nuclear reactors.    Now THERE'S a party conversation if there ever was one. Brian brought out his electric keyboard a few hours in and people tried to do songs.    Trouble is Brian is pretty much deaf and is prone to these esoteric jazz riffs that no one can sing to.    Still, much enthusiasm. I had finished my bottle of wine, gorged on food and *ice cream* and confessed to somebody that I knew a little guitar.    And Beverly the marina manager happened to have a guitar.    And you know what happened next... So I wind up leading the crowd in singable songs like 'Sweet Caroline' and    'Margari

Another day, another squall.  Again, the rain misses us but not the swells.  Not as large as the previous day, but enough to get your attention.  Again, swim out to check the anchor.  Lots of ‘noise’ in the water; hard to see the anchor in 14 feet!  Abandon any idea of snorkeling to the reef.  Had dinner on one of the other boats.  I brought wine and cookies.  Three bottles of wine later the cookies were a big hit.  I’m now the ‘cookie man.’  It is a thrill to be with such experienced cruisers.  These folks have been all over the South Pacific and North Atlantic, with twenty-some odd years of experience as liveaboards.  So to hear them say they had never experienced swells like that on this anchorage, well I guess I have some stories to tell now, too. Gave one guy a lift back to his boat.  (He only has a rowing dinghy.). He dipped his hand in the water and said “Bugger me, that’s f*****g hot!”. The shoal water was uncomfortably hot.  Not warm - hot.  I think you could have sous vide’d

Cousteau is. If I can set it there, I can set it anywhere… It’s up to you, Cousteau, Cousteau. Well, that may be a bit of hubris, methinks. Motored out to Cousteau again yesterday to spend a few days in the company of a couple of other boats.    Got to the anchorage, dropped in 14 feet and drifted back letting out 70+ feet of chain.    Got the snubber on and set the hook solid.    I’m a prudent skipper, so I decide to snorkel out and check the anchor set.    Wow.    Nice set.    Buried deep in the sand, no twist in the chain.    Joe would be proud. Get back to the boat and haul myself up on deck and see a squall coming in.    Hmmmmm - this was not in the plan.    I wasn’t too concerned; had a lot of lead time watching it come in from the west.    (They told me it’s common here for the winds to be from the east and the storms to move in from the west.). Then the swells started.    Keep in mind, I’m up on a sand shelf in 14 feet of water and there is a big squall coming across the bay at

No, I’m not writing this to rub anyone’s face in the fact that while you’re knee-deep in snow I’m swimming in the South Pacific.    Honest.    This blog has two purposes: Let friends and family know I’m still alive and haven’t been eaten by sharks.    And what I’m up to. Provide an outlet for my creative energies.    There are only so many boat projects I can do, so writing seems to be the easy button. Yeah, it’s either this blog or writing screenplays for porn.    (Wait a minute - ‘Debbie Does Fiji’ does have a certain ring to it…) So beware, Shirley will make her appearance at some point, as will my Zika-spreading talking mosquitoes Goose and Maverick.    I may even resurrect my lawyer from ‘Tales From ‘da Rails’.    No, it won’t make any sense, it’s not supposed to.    You can skip those posts and just roll your eyes.    Hey, they all laughed at David Balducci once, too. Should anyone out there be left after the zombie apocalypse, you can reach me via the following: Email:    Chezon

One of my favorite Kristofferson songs.    No, I don’t have a hangover or a headache, I’m just using the title. Sunday morning in Savusavu.    Calm, peaceful.    Half considered running down the creek with the dinghy but I didn’t want to disturb other boaters at 6 am. Major project for the day:    The fender step.    I call it the “Freddie” step for yeah…Freddie Fender.    Remember him?    It’s an actual boat fender made into a step to ease getting on and off.    I’m not going to use it for the sailboat; I want it for the dinghy. Joe can kick with his fins and slide right up onto the dinghy after snorkeling.    Michelle can do it with a little help.    I can’t do it at all.    Maybe with practice, but I want an easy way out.    (Emergency fall back is to use the transverse fin on the outboard’s lower unit for my foot and push up onto the sponson.) Enter the Freddie step.    The idea is for Freddie to float next to the dinghy at the right distance to allow me to put a foot on top and pu

 This is the ‘where in the world are you, anyway?’ post. Fiji.  In the middle of the South Pacific.  Best look I could find is from Google Earth: So you have Hawaii in the upper right-hand corner, New Zealand at 6 o’clock, Oz at 8 o’clock and Fiji right dead center.  Can’t you see me waving? Let’s zoom in a bit… There’s some places you might have heard of:  American Samoa, Tonga.  Fiji is there at 9 o’clock. Zooming in some more… There are two big islands and a ton of small ones and coral atolls.  Savusavu is approximately in the middle. You guessed it - we’re going to zoom in some more… South shore of Vanua Levu island.  Says ‘100 mi’ in the GE legend.  Seems about right for the horizontal distance shown.  Savusavu is the dead center. OK, closer still.  25 mi scale. Ok, sailors take note - this is where it gets interesting.  You see that appendage pointing down to the lower left-hand corner?  The pale green is one big-ass coral reef.  There is a resort on the tip of land associated wi