Atolls and sharks....

"We are at play in the field of the Lord," to paraphrase a great piece of work. Well, yesterday, at least at play in the lagoons of atolls. It is interesting to see how different boats deal (or not deal) with the commonality of all the laborious tasks that make a sailing venture like this possible. I have seen crews become so lost in the beast that they constantly search to find some task to do while they let a jeweled isle of paradise pass them up, probably never to be seen again. If one looks hard enough, there is always a mundane task one could find to kill a day. I have also seen the opposite in sloppy crew, where those necessary tasks are not addressed and eventually have come back to haunt those sailors and without fail, always at the worst times. They are typically the first to call themselves sailors and the first ones on the VHF calling and cursing the boat or a chart for the their failures. Never curse the boat. We, the fair crew of the BEG, have found the happy-medium in chores, preventive maintenance, and doing what we all have come here to do: experience the world in all its beauty and harshness and to see it looking through eyes of truth. What I have seen, what I have learned is that we share more commonalities in the people we meet from these many cultures than differences. We may not speak their language in prose, but we always manage to make friends wherever we go (if there are people to be found). I am at play in the field of the Lord. We are at play in the field of the Lord.

We have experienced the greatest of the Tuamotos on the isles of Makemo and Tahanea (aka shark city-more about that in a few). We have lived the reason why they call this the "Dangerous Archipelago" and "Labyrinth" and so far have managed well (the sound of knocking on wood). The passages into the lagoons had coral heads, narrow entrances, and extreme currents if you hit them at anything other than slack tide. We hit our entrances, well-timed by the Captain, and still we feared the possibility of being spun. It's spectacular to see and even better to be done with, with an anchor set firm and another sunset casting purples and oranges beams across the paling sky. After the sun went to sleep, Mom fixed a wonderful rib-eye dinner with baked potato and green beans. It was the best dinner we have had in months. Between her cooking and our not having had such a luxury for months, our plates barely needed to be rinsed off.

Our last anchorage, I could have spent a week at and still wanted more. Her name was Tahanea and her beauty more alluring than the call of a siren. But like a siren, she certainly had her dangers in the form of packs of black tip sharks. Now, I'm a friend of sharks and have defended them in my duties as a Ranger for the great state of Florida. I encouraged people at all times to release them. A set of jaws makes for a nice mantle-piece but such over-harvesting of certain species has depleted the populations of many of the apex and some of the smaller species. Not the case in Tahanea. As soon as we had anchor set, 6 black tip reef sharks began to circle the boat and continued for the majority of our day stay there. After accomplishing some tasks on the boat, Dad and I wanted to get in some spear-fishing. Typically, we are not the type to be afraid if we see one or two sharks circling around but when there are more, they take on a pack mentality. I only know this, from a dive yesterday on a beautiful ledge of coral. Thirty feet down, I began seeing grouper in the 3 foot range and better (impressive) but as I was hunting the grouper a pack (yes, pack) of black-tips began following me around. That brought me concern level up a bit. After I took a shot at a grouper and missed, the pack got closer and every now and then, one would make a quick turn in and come directly toward, veering off at about three feet as I pointed the bang-stick (.357 Magnum shell in a pressure activated head attached to pole when hit against something makes that something have a very bad day). This worked for a while. I continued to see some of the largest and closely-grouped grouper of my life. I carried on and was pursuing them while keeping count of the sharks and where they were in relation to me. Safety off on bang-stick, check. I caught something out of the corner of my eye and the largest of the pack (200 lbs or more?-didn't grab him to weigh him), was closing in fast and directly for me. Kicking out of the way, I hit the shark just behind the gills with the bang-stick. No discharge of the gun (backward motion of me did not allow enough power to drive firing pin into primer?). That shark bolted a distance but remained in the ever-tightening circle. I spun around like a top keeping my eyes on all of them. I found a rock and tested the bang-stick. Boom! It seemed only to interest them. After a quick reload, I decided to call it quits and headed for the surface while the sharks followed me up. "We are out of here!" As I kept my face in the water and on the sharks, I could see large grouper from the surface, ironically, protected by beasts that would eat them if I speared them. Dad helped me into the boat and we continued on to find another less sharky area (meaning only 2 or 3 sharks around you at any one time)not too far away. It ended up being another great day and I didn't lose any appendages over it. Fresh grouper is on the menu for tonight. I have been requested to do my coconut carrot curry sauce drizzled over a sautéed panko breaded grouper filet a la San Blas (archipelago off of Panama). :)

I did have to use the bang-stick on two sharks that day (quick, humane kills). I have a new love for that piece of necessary equipment for diving in these waters for there is no shortage of sharks in this locale, nor shortage of grouper, and there is only one of me.

We are now, en route for a two-day sail to Papeete, Tahiti. The only sharks I intend to find there are the merchants selling black, gold, and all different color iridescent pearls. I think, in the end, I will have more respect for the sharks that swim in the water. We celebrate today, as the Skip has been 6 months sailing the "Brown-Eyed Girl" and doing it well. As always, love and miss you all. Te amo, Merce.

"Brown-Eyed Girl" out...