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mountains oceans travel stories

Swimming with the Humpbacks in Tonga

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“Stop being perverse.   It’s amazing.  It’s epic.  It’s out of control.  It never gets old.  Most people spend thousands to fly here and then spend more money to do it everyday for a week.  You’re already here, you didn’t even have to pay for the flight, the least you can do is go one time.”

It’s June, and we have been in Tonga’s northern group, Vava’u, for a week.  We arrived via sailboat.   We are sitting outside in a drizzle at a traditional Tongan feast, and a professional photographer is adamantly telling us we MUST swim with the humpback whales while in Tonga.  “I used to be a photographer for African safaris.  People pay thousands upon thousands of dollars to go on safari, and they do it to have an intimate, un-catered wild-life experience.  This is better than any of the safaris I was on.  You will get closer to these animals than any animal on a safari, and a humpback is one of the largest creatures in the world.  In the wild.  For 200 dollars.  Where else can you do that?”

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Spear Fishing in New Zealand: Giant Kings and Hungry Sharks

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I’m haunted by the image of a large fish emerging head first through a mist, snaking in that way that a large fish swim, toward me, mouth slightly agape, breathing, lidless and watching. I have tried to tell my free diving friends about this, I dream about it, my mind makes stories of every variation from the same beginning when I close my eyes, they always laugh it off, not wanting to engague in any conversation founded on unsterdy ground. I’m not loosing touch, it’s not that bad, I’m simply in the spotlight of a memory, it will fade, maybe faster if I exorcise it. It’s a short and uneventful tale, but I think I have to tell it, if only that I can stop it from replaying in my dreams.

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How to Sail Around the World on Other Peoples’ Boats

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We’ve been sailing around the world on other people’s boats (OPB, as we call it) for about 2 years now.  As unpaid crew, we’ve covered more than 10,000 nautical miles, and been on 6 different boats (2 of them twice).  I was planning on writing a general essay on what crewing is like, the pros and cons, which I think I will still do.  But so many people we’ve met have wanted to know HOW to get going on this kind of trip.  So to start, I’ve compiled this run-down on how to go about finding a boat and what to consider before sailing away on it.   My hope is that it might help anyone, experienced sailor or novice, who is thinking about doing some traveling as unpaid crew on other people’s boats.

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Whale Stranding in New Zealand

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Part I – Don’t panic, and stay away from the tail.

 

I woke up feeling dehydrated, with one of those headaches that only goes away if you can get back to sleep. I was in a tent with wool blankets pulled over my head. I could smell the septic pond already. Why had we camped next to the septic? Oh yeah, we were anti-social and it was the only spot with no one else ‘living’ in it. We were like Canadian pioneers, moving to shitty places because it was the only land left for the taking. It was supposed to be a rock climbing day, we were in the north western tip of the south island of New Zealand because there was a fantastic crop of limestone cliffs, but that day my tips were raw, my hands were stuck into half-cocked fists, I guess claws is the word, and they were not responding to commands. All I needed to do was sleep some more, and pee, and drink more water. I was hungover. Troy, the camp master, was outside talking to the girls, who must have been drinking tea judging from the period of their banter.

 

Are you guys traveling with wet suits?  Troy asked.

Yeah, why?

There is a mass whale stranding out at The Spit and they need volunteers with wetsuits.

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Noserlies: Sailing from Fiji to New Zealand

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I’m sitting on the lee side of the boat against the dodger window, reading in the short crescent of shade left by the midday sun. Jade, a worthy 45ft center cockpit Alden-designed ketch is bobbing, not lazily, but also not violently, hove-to against a fresh ‘noserly’ breeze. Coined by the captain, a noserly is a wind that insistently turns onto the nose of the boat, halting the possibility of any forward progress. The direction of this demonic breeze depends solely on which direction one desires to bear. Having sailed south for a week and a day after leaving the fair ports of Fiji on a kind east south-east wind with persistent and improbable high pressure prevailing, blue skies and spectacular sun sets, we have come to a stand still 200 miles north of New Zealand, for 4 days running, stuck in the eye of a noserly.

 

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Passing Out Under Water

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This is a story about passing out under water, something that I experienced for the first time about 10 months ago in the waters of French Polynesia. Before it happened, I viewed the prospect of black out with awe: even the most experienced and amazingly talented divers (of which I am neither) pass out, a seeming signal of their limit-pushing and dedication. But post-black out, how naïve my previous views seemed, because while free-diving itself is a master’s skill acquired through great practice and patience, it takes absolutely no talent to blackout.

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Atoll Tale: Yarns of the Remote South Pacific

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We entered the only pass into Manihi on a clear day with casual sailing winds coming over the land and across the lagoon. The entrance to the atoll, barely the width of an avenue, welcomed us with an incoming tide. The water that carried us was a moving glass, magnifying and distorting the white coral formations below, a funhouse mirror melted and flowing into the strange ring of land. Wild, carnival colored fish, clearly visible below the warped surface, passed on other-worldly errands, inattentive to our arrival. This was the first land that had been sighted in a few weeks, and all of us were excited to explore. But nearing the much awaited firm earth we were settled upon by an uneasy feeling, an uncanny stillness, maybe just the normal stillness of land, or a faint and unsettling smell, maybe just the ever present but unnoticed effluvium of loam and root and human dwelling not present at sea.

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This Adventure

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The following is not really an introduction. It is, rather, a history of sorts, a retrospective. Because it seems to me that our website could use a simple explanation of how we got here. So I’m just going to briefly lay out what we are doing and have been doing on this trip. I guess it is an introduction of sorts: a hand shake with the birth of the adventure and its enactment up to date.

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We Had Reasons: A Website Introduction

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Part I: I explain in a general way what is going on in my life, and why I have a website.

 

I haven’t been home in more than a year. I don’t own a house, so I ought to say I haven’t had a home in more than a year. I’m 32 years old. Everything I own is stored in the back of an old pickup truck in a warehouse in Maine, or with me now, in my bag, on the other side of the world. I have a girlfriend. She isn’t really my girlfriend but she won’t let me call her my wife unless we are in a dangerous or compromising position that requires tactful escape. We are not married. I love her most truly. We have done too many things together to recount even to myself. We lived in New York City, way up town, in San Francisco on a hill too steep to bike, on a sailboat off an island in Portland Maine, and when we met, we were just two kids sharing a bed between classes in Portland Oregon. Now we are traveling, not living anywhere, sleeping in so many places, always together.

 

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About Us

We are two regular superheroes: tight spandex, obvious muscles, 'special' abilities. We like holding our breath, eating the delicious food, up hill walking, touching rock, beer-coffee-spinach smoothies, and words. Together we are dellandtucker, apart we are just lonely.

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