Cheryl Fitzgerald

Indian Ocean Crossing—1st Stop, Cocos Keeling

*Man cannot discover new oceans unless he has the courage to lose sight of the shore—”Life’s Little Instruction Book”*

A 17-day voyage from Darwin, Australia to the southern atoll of Cocos Keeling, an Australian territory, proved uneventful except for several Indonesian vessels passing way too close. Our 1st thought—pirates! But these unusual boats that curved upward at bow and stern, with gaff-rigged blue and white-striped sails, left us alone. We learned these fishermen came near and circled us so any evil spirits would jump off their boats and onto ours!

Our first sight of this group of 26 palm-covered islands was extraordinary with golden beaches and coral reefs encircling clear blue-hued lagoons. We joined 9 sailboats anchored at uninhabited Direction Island, greeted by cruising friends off Appledore and a 4-ft blacktip reef shark who circled us for 30-minutes. Customs didn’t arrive until Day-2, and on a jet ski! One of our easiest check-ins. And no fee—a common theme for this charming place. A long, wet dinghy ride bounced us over to Home Island. From there a free ferry chugged to West Island, the 3rd smallest capital in the world (pop:120). A free bus drove to a tiny settlement where we did laundry and provisioned.

Direction Island: We discovered a unique cruiser’s shelter overflowing with sailing memorabilia from around the world. We recognized names of several friends including a sign from the Pardey’s Talisin, and added our club burgee to the mix. Snorkeling “The Rip” was a rush with a current sweeping us through a narrow coral passage. We encountered 3 blacktip reef sharks who ignored us, several bluish-gray spotted unicorn fish, and at least 2 humphead Maori wrasse. One balmy evening everyone gathered for a potluck on the beach, lit by lanterns and a bonfire as the sun dipped below the horizon.

Home Island housed about 500 Cocos Malay who are mostly Sunni Islamic. Shy but polite, their simple, modern houses and villages are immaculate. In Bantam, Pula Cocos, a free natural history museum displayed early history and local culture, Aussie naval history, local flora and fauna, and a few restored ancient wooden boats. We hiked the trail to Oceania House. This Clunies-Ross plantation home is over a century old and been abandoned since the 1980s. The front door was unlocked, so took a self-tour. A few pieces of furniture, carpets, windows, and hanging framed pictures remain intact. Strolling its many rooms, we sought a ghostly vision or voice to share their secret tales of this forgotten place. Outside we sauntered down pathways through overgrown gardens where massive trees shaded a tangle of colorful plants and flowering vines. Lots of potential here…if you don’t mind living on a remote island. Note: We sailed here in 2000. I just discovered during recent research that this home and gardens have been rejuvenated and is now a quaint B&B.

Our final full day was spent in preparation for the Indian Ocean Crossing. I baked bread, carrot raisin muffins, and chocolate chip cookies, staples of any long sail(!), plus several meals to freeze. Jerry scoured the hull bottom and secured everything on deck.

Day 4 we strolled the serene shoreline before lunching with friends. Then set sail with 3 other yachts under reefed main and staysail. A stiff wind of 25 knots and high bumpy seas from the aft quarter made for less than ideal conditions. But we’re on our way west toward more adventures.

The Timor Sea

Soft warm cocoon of night
Pumpkin orb casts dim light
Full moon rises overhead
Star's twinkling petals shed

Tall rolling swells astern
Push us onward as the tern
searches, dives, a shrill call
Shatters quiet far from all

Beneath sea an eerie glow
Nature's strangest creatures flow
Travelers passing swiftly on
Toward Indian Ocean's dawn

The Great Barrier Reef—Part 2, Oz’s Wild Side

Gliding up Hitchenbrook Channel was like entering a Frederic Church painting. Crocodiles lurked amid thick mangroves, white ibis and blue heron swooped through treetops, and frothy waterfalls skipped down shadowy cliffs of rainforest mountains. Anchored at The Haven, a small cove on the island, we took a walk-about on the beach and creek, keeping an eye out for crocs. Thankfully, only attacked by buzzing mossies. Morning sunlit mist played hide and seek with chattering birds among the valleys.

Motor-sailed to Dunk Island, setting anchor in 15-feet of white sand near a tropical garden resort (which I recently discovered has been sold & is being restored). Tramped a well-maintained trail bordered with shrubs, vines, and lush ferns where yellow-breasted sunbirds darted among the banyans and brilliant blue and black Ulysses butterflies flittered. Wobbling across a swinging bridge over a deep muddy canyon brought to mind “Romancing the Stone”. Spectacular views of islands and the mainland’s vast plains and purple ranges helped us forget about the shiny gray-blue snake sunbathing in the middle of the path! We ended the day’s adventures back in the cockpit with…you guessed it, a cocktail and enchanting sunset.

On our way to Cairns (Aussies pronounce it Canz), had a stopover at Fitzroy Island. Trekked a steep paved road to a lighthouse, then a peaceful stroll among boulders and rainforest to Nudey Beach. Don’t get excited. No naked beach goers—only a casual national park resort with lizards and skinks soaking up rays on the boulder-strewn beach and cockatoos screeching a lively tune.

Caught up with several cruising buddies in the anchorage across from City Marina in Cairns. Modern and touristy, the city is a conglomerate of cultures providing a wide variety of food options, art, and fashion. Home base for us cruisers was the yacht club on the river where showers were free and two months of mail awaited us.

Venturing out on bikes we ran errands, but also explored Flecker Botanical Gardens, a kaleidoscope of palms, bamboo, heliconia, torch ginger, flame of the forest, and much more. Meandering ’round both salt and freshwater lakes, we strolled a rainforest boardwalk and through an orchid house. Cairns birdwing butterflies patterned in shades of yellows and greens shimmered in the sunlight. A steep walking track led to Mt. Whitfield Conservation Park where kangaroos, scrub turkeys, cassowaries, and other wildlife hid out above the city jungle far below.

After a few days we popped around to Fort Douglas and a quiet anchorage. Cycling along a scenic path, we encountered one of our favorite Aussie experiences, Rainforest Habitat, where we roamed the aviary’s multi-leveled paths. Flashes of bright feathery friends everywhere, including Jerry’s shoulder! Andy, a very hospitable parrot, sat contented as we fed him bits of fruit, corn, and celery. Taking a turn on my shoulder, all was well until a rainbow lorikeet perched on my head. What a racket those two made! Like a National Geographic documentary, we observed mating dances including the Victorian Riflebird who spread its feathers around himself like a black velvet cloak and puffed out his iridescent chest. Diverse birdlife from huge emus and casqued cassowaries with dagger-like claws to gentle doves cooed, squawked, chattered, whistled, chirped, and trilled.

Next we wound along a walkway high in a eucalyptus forest where sleepy koalas eventually awoke. They stretched, scratched, and lumbered across thick branches searching for succulent leaves.

Back on the ground Jerry and I leisurely wandered a grassy koppie with trees lining the banks of a lazy stream. A few gentle, shy roos and wallabies rested while others hopped about, eager for a treat. One entertaining joey kept climbing in and out his mama’s pouch. An amazing day at an amazing sanctuary.

James Cook struck a reef at our next destination—tiny Hope Island. You can walk the sandy perimeter in 20-minutes. Aborigines continue to hunt, fish, and collect here. Hordes of egrets and Pied Imperial pigeons perched in beach almond and red coondoo trees, their faint coos an early morning wake-up call. Extensive reefs brimmed with exotic sea life, previewing things to come at our next anchorage. Just BEWARE of crocs and stingers-jellyfish!

Sailing wing & wing under glorious conditions led us to Cape Flattery and then Lizard Island, even catching a 30″ Spanish mackerel using our silver spoon lure. Barbecued, it was delicious! Fantastic Watson’s Bay offered a wide selection of activities. Climbing the strenuous trail to Cook’s Look, who arrived in 1770, displayed breathtaking panoramas of outer reefs and their seven intricate passes. We rambled the white sand beach, mangrove boardwalk, and trail leading to Watson House. A tragic tale transpired here in the late 1800s.

These protected waters have bestowed some of the Great Barrier Reef’s finest snorkeling and diving—delightful flickers of color darted among brilliant corals; a cloud of silver swirled around us with several 30″ fish within its midst; and an astounding assortment of 6-ft giant clams with velvety lips speckled with iridescent shades of blue, green, and brown beckoned us closer. The grand finale was a wonderful surprise visit from cruising friends who came to celebrate my 50th birthday.

From this magical place light winds blew White Dove toward Australia’s Northern Territory, through the Torres and Endeavor Straights, and across the Gulf of Carpenteria. After 12 days of sailing we arrived in Darwin. Here we prepared for the next leg of our voyage from the Land Down Under. Stay tuned for more adventures as we sail east across the Indian Ocean.

The Road Home

Veering off my usual path, I decided to talk about taking the roads back home to our places of origin. This six week RV road trip to California began near Jackson in western Tennessee where Jerry was born amid cotton fields and farmland. One uncle, abundant cousins and their families still reside here. It’s not unusual for fifty or more kin to pack into Uncle Edward and Aunt Jewell’s farmhouse during holidays and get-togethers. Sadly many of the elderly have passed on, but their strong family values and wonderful memories live on.

1,100 miles later we bedded down at Turquoise Campground low in the mountains east of Albuquerque, New Mexico. I hadn’t seen my nephew since his school days and who’s now in the Air Force. Married last year during Covid-19, it was a special blessing to finally meet his wife, discover how much we all have in common, and make tentative plans for camping. Because come early Fall, there will be a new addition to our family!

Continuing along I-40 with nostalgic sections of Route 66, we side-tracked through Petrified Forest National Park and the Painted Desert. A mystical landscape of colorful layered hills rose through ancient Indian petroglyphs, relics, and a forest preserved for future generations of explorers.

None of this wonder compared to reuniting with my younger sister just outside Flagstaff, Arizona. Dad’s archived slides and photographs triggered a common laugh and numerous anecdotes: mountain breakfasts and picnics; clambering up boulder heaps in Joshua Tree; swimming all day at the beach; and fishing creeks of the lower Sierras near Bishop. Memories of our mischievous brother, loving parents, doting grandparents, cousins, aunts, and uncles were bittersweet, having lost most, but was overpowered by new joys of grandchildren and expanding families.

San Diego’s sunshine and swaying palms provided an idyllic backdrop for kayaking portions of Mission Bay—a nesting area for terns who dive-bombed when venturing too close; a yacht club and marina of sailboats beckoning; a blue heron contemplating his next move…

Other activities included the scenic bike path partway around the bay and treading carefully the tidal moonscape along La Jolla’s shades of blue ocean. Each day we joined my favorite cousin for meals, talks, and walks along sandy shores.

Two hours north the shock of Orange County traffic was only slightly less than the price of gas—over $5.00 per gallon! Huntington Beach and its vicinity had been my home until Jerry and I sailed off into the sunset in 1998. It’s difficult to describe the fullness of emotions upon returning to the individuals and landmarks that helped form you, that are engraved forever into our hearts and minds. For ten glorious days we immersed ourselves within the lives of beloved family not visited in over two years, and close friends, some not seen in over a decade. Relationship trials and losses had challenged us emotionally, and physically we’d altered a bit, but re-entry into our friendships felt like only days had passed.

We shared stories and laughter while visiting old haunts such as Super Mex, known for humongous burritos and Harbor House’s fish and chips, whose cozy nooks and walls are plastered with classic movie posters. My all-time favorite is always fresh sushi downtown at Sushi On Fire. On Tuesdays there’s always “Local’s Night” in Huntington Beach. The gaiety of live bands and colorful dress intermingles with mouth-watering spicy Mexican, sweet funnel cakes frying, sizzling meats, and Farmer’s market scents of strawberries, peaches, lavender, and fresh-cut flowers. Charlie, almost four, didn’t talk much, but held hands and swayed to the music as we sauntered up Main St. All that wonderful food complimented with a margarita or glass of wine was thankfully balanced by plenty of exercise:

—Hikes among Bolsa Chica Wetlands gifted us with wading egrets on stilted legs and common curlews with long curved beaks catching fish in the shallows, protected western snowy plover, scurrying sandpipers, nesting black-helmeted least terns, and low-flying pelicans gliding just above the bay.

—Bike rides along the beach path to the pier, passing squirrel colonies, surfer dudes and dudettes.

—Kayaking narrow canals of Naples, a tiny haven of quiet serenity nestled within congested neighborhoods.

—Building sand castles and wading in the shallows where silky sand sucks at your feet, and the briny air sticks to your skin, curling hair.

—As the sun sank into June gloom’s marine layer the ocean’s rhythmic gentle roar and hiss plus nostalgic smells of beach fires, roasting hot dogs and marshmallows soothed jangled nerves. Always a perfect way to end the day.

We bid a sorrowful farewell to loved ones and the Pacific Ocean which still runs through my veins. But embraced a slower pace venturing inland to high-desert mountains at Silverwood Lake. Two couples joined our camping expedition for peaceful paddling, sweaty hikes along a portion of the Pacific Crest Trail, crackling campfires, and spectacular sunsets. A special evening hosted by our newbie-bachelor friend at his elegant home astonished us with a complete home-cooked meal served on his patio beneath a canopy of stars.

Long-time sailing friends followed our route along Highway 395 from Silverwood to Bishop, through the Sierras north to Lassen Volcanic National Park, and then east to Virginia City, Nevada. This spontaneous, adventurous couple kept us laughing as we loaded up on fresh goodies at Schat’s Bakery; tramped the Pond Trail in Rock Creek Canyon; and wound our way along Lassen’s scenic byway, Hwy 89, from Manzanita Lake to the Kohm Yah-mah-nee visitor’s center.

We romped near boiling mud-pots, steamy fumaroles, and among volcanic boulders from the 1914-15 eruptions that were dispersed within this diverse prehistoric vicinity.

One memorable moment was Steve going for an unexpected swim in Cold Boiling Lake, thankfully a dying hydro-thermal lake, now tepid and bubbly. That evening while we roasted marshmallows, he toasted his sneakers!

After 2-1/2 weeks we regretfully parted company in old west era Virginia City. Another step back in time, this once booming gold and silver mining town boasts of 23 saloons, 7 cemeteries, museums, mercantiles, historic sites, and entertaining shoot outs as you stroll authentic boardwalks.

Jerry and I still had several stops ahead amid gorgeous and intriguing environments which we anticipated eagerly. But life and its adventures are always best shared with family and friends. We would miss old and new stories spoken around campfires; genuine camaraderie and bonds strengthened through joint challenges and mutual appreciation of God’s masterful creation. We are overflowing with gratitude for the gift of this time of renewal and growth within our precious relationships, looking forward to creating new memories as we devise our next journey.

The beauty of places is insignificant next to the splendor discovered within the hearts of those we love and that love us.

The Great Barrier Reef Adventure—Part 1, Cockatoos & Cocktails

G’day mates! Made it to Mackay, our port of entry on Australia’s eastern shore. After checking in with friendly custom agents, we pedaled bikes around town, a mixture of late 1800s historical to current architecture; a river port for exporting sugar, with modern marina and local fish market; beaches, eateries, and diverse shopping. All this surrounded by national park rainforests and mountains. We only stayed long enough to provision and scrub ourselves, the boat, and laundry. Islands and birds of the Great Barrier Reef were calling.

Sixteen miles out of Mackay we anchored in a secluded cove at Keswick Island next to Matt and Donna on their Catalina 36, Dream Weaver. At dusk, strains of Glenn Yarbrough’s “I Could Have Been A Sailor” filtered through the cockpit. We toasted beginning our cruises up the GBR—us for 3 months, the Aussies for 3 years. With Bundeburg rum and coke, of course. Cheers!

A light-wind, 20 mile sail guided us next to hilly Goldsmith Island planted with huge boulders interspersed with bushy white cypress and 100-ft hoop pine.

At Thomas Island our cove was fringed by 3 lovely beaches where we basked in sunshine and gentle breeze amid soft wispy Australian pines and rocky outcroppings. No worries here.

Moving north up the GBR, we discovered enchanting Lindemann Island clothed in rainforest. White cockatoos screeched and black pied currawong croaked in treetops while rainbow lorikeets chattered and whistled riotously, inebriated from the fermented nectar of umbrella and other flowering trees. We wound our way on a track with thick monkey rope and flowery wonga vines draping red-berried kamala trees, pines, and eucalypti. Mount Oldfield Lookout rewarded us with a scenic vista of islands dotting the Coral Sea where dolphins frolicked and multitudes of sea creatures thrived.

We dropped anchor in Cid Harbor, Whitsunday Island. Windsor-blue sky reflected in its calm water. Deep green forested hills hid Aboriginal caves, wallabies, and brushtail possums. Finches chirped and sacred kingfishers flapped iridescent blue wings, swooping to catch small lizards, crustaceans, and insects. Hiking between Dugong and Sawmill Beaches, we searched the shallows for the elusive dugong. These whiskery, grey-bronze creatures only eat plants like their closest relative, the elephant. No dugongs, but a 3-ft goanna (monitor lizard) ransacked a tent, foraging for delectables while others sunbathed on golden sand.

Aussie friends suggested we pop over to Hook Island, only a 6-mile sail. The fiord-like anchorage of Nara Inlet was shadowed by rugged mountains. A 20-minute bush track led to 9,000 year old Ngaro, an Aboriginal cultural site where middens covered the ground and caves held ancient rock paintings. Hawks and eagles soared overhead as we later clambered up a promontory with inspiring views of Pebble beach and beyond from Bluff Lookout.

As beautiful as the mountains and beaches were, it didn’t compare to the underwater landscape we splashed into at Manta Ray Bay. We were greeted by clouds of bright blue and yellow surgeonfish and pouty-mouth triggerfish nipping at gloved hands serving bits of bread. Feeding frenzy! Drifting among vivid red and cool blue corals near the beach was exhilarating, but never spotted a manta ray.

Windy conditions prompted us to move to a mooring ball in Butterfly Bay, more protected from prevailing southeast winds. We snorkeled among staghorn, blue organ pipe, sea fans, and pink cauliflower corals. Orange and white clownfish popped out of anemone, bright yellow butterfly fish, blue damsels, green and flatback turtles glided, and large grouper drifted within this quiet wonderland reef.

After 3 days of tranquility on Hook Island we spent a restless night in a poor-holding anchorage of Gloucester Island before a day sail to Upstart Bay. The national Park’s barren sandy hills with desert scrub, clumps of giant boulders, and a few cinder-block buildings were reminiscent of Joshua Tree National monument in California—minus the ocean!

Another sailing day delivered us to an undulating anchorage at Cape Bowling Green, and then on to Townsville. Dramatic red cliffs spotted with eucalypti backdropped the blended early 1900s architecture with modern and tropical. The sun shines 320 days a year in this laid back capitol of the north where you can visit military and maritime museums, art galleries, or shop and dine at Flinder’s Mall, housed in restored historic buildings. For you Foodies, here’s some Aussie favorites: Barbecued snags (sausages); Minced meat pies (with gravy, onion, & cheese); Burger with “the lot” (lettuce, tomato, pineapple, beet, onion, cheese, bacon, & egg)—a whole day’s worth of calories in that one! For desert their favorite is Lamingtons, the national cake (a butter cake coated in chocolate & dipped in coconut).

There’s also peaceful areas of natural beauty such as:

Mount Elliott in Bowling Green Bay National Park. Craggy mountains rise from wetlands with plenty of birdwatching along Alligator Creek where water cascades into deep pools and waterfalls. Alligator Creek Falls Track is a difficult 10-mile trail while Alligator Creek Lookout is an easy, 1/2-miler.

On your way, stop at Crystal Creek where cassowaries charge through rainforest and orchids twine among branches near a mountain stream tumbling over granite boulders and beneath a Roman arch stone bridge.

We strolled beautifully landscaped Anzac Park, beside the marina, with its war memorial and indigenous trees; and along The Strand with protected swim areas, fishing pier, and sidewalk for skaters and cyclists.

For a longer walk, try Townsville Town Common Conservation Park, an immense wetland habitat with tidal estuaries fringed with mangroves, venturing through grasslands and swamps to woodlands and vine thickets. You may spot honking magpie geese, melodious red-backed wrens,high-pitched buzzing golden-headed cistacolas, or stilt-legged brolgas.

After 2 days in civilization it was time to head back out to a serene retreat. Rocky Magnetic Island, nicknamed Maggie, is a nature-lover’s paradise. White cockatoos and sea eagles glided over horseshoe Bay. A 20-30 minute bushwalk through eucalypti, hoop and Norfolk pines, and around monstrous boulders brought us to picturesque Balding Bay. We picnicked in seclusion on soft white sand as small shorebirds skittered around for a meal. Rowing ashore late one afternoon we were surprised by raucous squawking. A rare flock of black cockatoos with orange-red or yellow tailfeathers feasted in the trees on sea almonds. Party time!

Another day we climbed a twisty bushtrack to the Forts. Remnants of WWII structures competed with the magnificent views of wooded coves, boulder-strewn beaches, and mainland, only 16-miles across the sea. Although a haven for koalas, none were spotted, but a trilling staccato laugh punctured the silence on our hike down. What on earth? We glimpsed a delightful brown and white laughing kookaburra peering through the trees, and sounding eerily human.

No time left for snorkeling several bays where fringing reefs of coral flourish, moray eels hide, and unicorn fish dart through submerged wrecks. Next time around… A final happy hour aboard White Dove was cherished as the sun set casting dazzling splashes of oranges, yellows, and pinks on the bay. Time to say Hoo roo, farewell, until we meet again in Part 2 of “The Great Barrier Reef Adventure”.

Yooperland

We do not want merely to see beauty, though God knows even that is bounty enough. We want something else which can hardly be put into words—to be united with the beauty we see, to pass into it, to receive it into ourselves, to bathe in it, become part of it.—C.S. Lewis, “Weight of Glory”

In the fall of 2020 Jerry & I meandered a few byways of Michigan’s Upper Peninsula—a land of mariners, native tribes, and hearty locals known as Yoopers. Set amidst dense forests lie vast lakes, rushing rivers, and mazes of woodland trails awaiting exploration.

Our C-class RV drove along scenic SR-35, paralleling Lake Michigan’s northwest coast, headed for Delta County, Walleye Capital of the World. Is that really a thing? Nestled within a forest of birch and pine sprinkled with blue asters, our small campground provided views along the lake and Bark River. A serenade of lapping waves accompanied a frolicking otter where the river flowed into this inland sea as we strolled a deserted beach. Autumn foliage bordered the sandy shoreline decorated with driftwood and sea grass. A few miles north lay Esconaba where we ate lunch at Swedish Pantry, a quaint cafe off the main highway. Walls adorned with a wide array of clocks ticked and chimed as we savored homemade soups and sandwiches.

Following Hwy-2 east across the UP we bypassed Manistique this year due to Covid-19 closing many attractions. But 2-years ago, while visiting friends at their cozy lake cabin in the Hiawatha wilderness, we decelerated and embraced a diversity of activities in the area. At Palms Brook State Park we explored the mystique of Kitch-iti-Kipi—The Big Spring, where crystal waters gushed from limestone fissures 40-ft below the surface of a small cove of Indian Lake. A self-propelling observation raft allowed visitors to study ancient tree trunks, calcified branches, massive trout, and sandy shapes swirling near the bottom like dancing apparitions.

Two girlfriends & I paddled some short portions of 51-mile Indian River Canoe & Kayak Trail in Hiawatha National Forest during our stay. Loons, osprey, sand-hill cranes, wood turtles, otter, and other wildlife thrive among this varied landscape of hardwoods, conifers, marshland, & rolling hills. In nearby Gulliver our group toured Seul Choix Pointe Lighthouse, a functioning lighthouse and museum, dating back to 1895. Named by French sailors seeking refuge during a terrifying storm, it translates as Only Chance. After all that outdoor adventure, we’d worked up a thirst so headed to Mackinaw Trail Winery & Brewery in Manistique’s harbor for some tastings. Although small & casual, you can’t beat the ambience while sipping a glass, over-looking the boats.

Continuing east on Hwy-2 my husband & I entered the Great Waters of eastern UP where Lakes Michigan, Superior, & Heron connect. Within the tranquil beauty of lush forests, waterfalls, & burbling streams the air is fresh beneath cerulean skies & prismatic sunsets. Evening’s grand finale radiates the glorious majesty of the infinite heavens, & if you’re fortunate, the aurora borealis…which we have yet to see.

Our jeep traveled a twisty byway from our campground near Brimley following Lakeshore Drive, delving deep into the north woods. There are several side-road jaunts to secluded lakes, beaches, & scenic overlooks. Iroquois Light Station guides ships through a channel leading to St. Mary’s River & the Soo Locks, the only passage between Lake Superior and other Great Lakes.

Heading west on Route 123 delivered us to Tahquamenon Falls State Park near Newbury, Moose Capital of the World. Lots of “Capitals” in the UP! Strolling wide paths and boardwalks through tunnels of birch, maple, oak, & cedar led to areas of the Upper & Lower Falls. Tannin dyed waterfalls shades of browns and golds as they cascaded into the churning Tahquamenon River. For those with disabilities there’s a Track Chair Program, providing free off-road electric wheelchairs able to handle trails, sand, snow, & up to 8-inches of water! 1st come, 1st serve.

On a previous journey to the area we drove north through Paradise to narrow Whitefish point Road, winding its way to the oldest active lighthouse (1849) on Lake Superior. Among several historic structures was a U.S. Coast Guard life-saving boathouse. Jerry, an old Coastie, loved that (We also visited an operational Coast Guard station on that trip). We spent hours touring the Great lakes Shipwreck Museum containing an extensive collection of artifacts, artwork, & maritime history form several shipwrecks, including the Edmund Fitzgerald (no relation). There’s also a great bird observatory, most spectacular during spring & fall migrations. But year round you can view Boreal owls, woodpeckers, & more.

In Sault Ste. Marie, originally named Bow-wa-ting-Falling Waters, by the Chippewa Indians, the Soo Locks were built to form a passage around the rapid’s 21-ft drop, connecting Lake Superior to lake Huron which joins the other Great Lakes. Today there are 3 operational U.S. locks & 1 Canadian. Due to Covid-19 restrictions the tall observation platforms, tower, & visitor center were closed. But strolling the grounds was still fascinating as huge freighters traversed the locks like slow-moving city blocks. A delightful view was enjoyed in the 2nd story of Lockview Restaurant as we ate scrumptious seafood & scrutinized an assortment of nautical paraphernalia & old photos. Playing tourist in downtown, we walked along historic Water St, studying informational plaques that described life for the early 1800 settlers and their businesses. Several restored homes were planted within season’s end floral gardens, trees draped in fall splendor.

Being mostly fair-weather RVers, we headed south to Indiana, across the Mackinac Bridge to Troll Land—Lower Michigan, stopping for an overnight stay at Crittenden Park. Off the beaten path & at end of season made for a peaceful paddle around the lake followed by an enchanting sunset. A perfect end to the day & another RV quest.

Wisdom acquired in Yooperland:

Slow down, enjoy life, & don’t sweat the small stuff;
Savor every pasty* & the Mackinac Fudge ice cream;
A bad day in the UP beats a good day anywhere else.

*pasty- pronounced pass-tee, a Yooper food staple made from pie crust & stuffed with meat, veggies, & potatoes.

Thank Goodness For The Great Outdoors—Part 2, Rails & Trails

***Climb the mountains & get their good tidings. Nature’s peace will flow into you as sunshine flows into trees— John Muir***

High in the Rocky Mountains above Colorado Springs lies Mueller State Park. The 9,000+ elevation forced a turtle’s pace as we adjusted. Our campsite overlooked a dense forest of conifer and ponderosa pines alive with the hammering of a Williams sapsucker woodpecker, chirps and squawks of chickadees, bluebirds, and stellar jays. Campsite hosts, a pair of fearless gray jays, kept us company throughout the afternoon.

T-shirts and shorts were exchanged for winter coats the day following our arrival when a freak early September snowstorm sprinkled five inches of snow. High altitude caused problems within our propane heating system making for a couple of very chilly nights. So, hearty campers that we are, we moved down the mountain.

Having planned to visit the Royal Gorge anyway, we set up base camp in Canon City, but opted out of strolling across America’s highest suspension bridge due to frigid weather. My Southern California blood has never adjusted to winter temps, so Jerry and I embarked on a train from the 1880s Santa Fe Railroad Depot. Over eons the surging waters of the Arkansas River cut a deep ravine forming cliffs over 1,000-ft tall. Rails paralleled the rushing waters past sites where silver and lead ore miners once toiled and beneath the swaying bridge high above.

An altered itinerary only blessed us with a few hours to tramp a portion of Garden of the Gods in Manitou Springs. Sauntering past astounding red sandstone formations given names such as The Three Graces, Kissing Camels, and Cathedral Spires humbled our prideful souls. With a wide variety of paved paths and hiking trails beckoning, we’ll be certain to pass this way again.

Glacier Basin Campground in Rocky Mountain National Park didn’t provide many amenities—no electricity or showers; restrooms closed due to Covid-19; and campfires prohibited due to massive wildfires throughout Colorado. But none of that mattered when compared to its fantastic, picturesque setting. Chains of mountain ranges blanketed in lodgepole pine, douglas fir, and quaking aspen encircled our valley.

Among the Swiss Alps-looking pinnacles blustery winds swirled powdery snow across three glaciers and alpine tundra.

Free shuttles offered transport to several hiking trails and lakes enabling us to sit back, enjoy the passing beauty, and search for bighorn sheep. Jerry still hadn’t acclimated to higher altitudes. We limited ourselves to tramping fairly flat perimeters of pristine Bear and Sprague lakes while keeping an eye and ear out for whistling yellow-bellied marmots, meeping pikas, and growling black bears. Breathing deeply of crisp, pine-scented air invigorated while extraordinary views around every bend captivated.

One afternoon in the wide golden meadow of Morraine Park the antics of two elk herds entertained. Dueling bulls clashed antlers, alternately posing and chasing one another, competing for females. Offspring munched grass, unconcerned, near a bubbly brook as their father’s calls rose to high-pitched squeals before dropping to grunts.

At day’s end we’d lie back in outdoor recliners, bundled in quilts, and turn faces upward to diamond-studded blackness. The Milky Way’s brilliance humbled us; silence cleared the chaos in our minds; and solitude brought renewal of body and soul. We departed these majestic mountains on Route 34, following Big Thompson River strewn with boulders and fly-fishermen in waders. Chiselled granite walls rose like a fortress on both sides descending through the gorge. I have no doubt we’ll return to this primeval paradise where eagles soar, elk bugle, and the wilderness whispers its secrets.

***I am well again, I came to life in the cool winds and crystal waters of the mountains— John Muir***

Thank Goodness for the Great Outdoors—Part 1, Hikes & Bikes

“The heavens declare the glory of God; & the firmament shows His handiwork.” Psalm 19:1 NKJV

“Expect the unexpected” and “Be flexible” have been my mantras this year of the Covid-19 pandemic. The summer-that-wasn’t slipped by almost unnoticed without the usual social events of outdoor concerts, wineries, and car shows. Our RV vacation that should have been to Southern CA got reconfigured. Thank goodness outdoor activities were still available.

Charming, historic Hermann was our 1st stop in Missouri. Residents went far beyond common courtesy. Tammy, the Director of Tourism & Economic Dev. stopped to visit our campsite at City Park. She encouraged a 5 minute walk to Stone Hill, the state’s oldest winery, established in 1847. Panoramic views of the old-world town created a perfect backdrop for award-winning wines, fermented from 11 varieties of grapes including Norton, America’s first native grape.

Also recommended was a scenic portion of the Katy Trail to cycle, plus The Corner Restaurant that served a scrumptious home-style breakfast. The owner, Katie, took time from her short-staffed hectic schedule to share family history of the cafe and her air B&B log cabin just down the road. Money earned from the B&B was donated so groups with disabilities could come and stay for free. Then this good-hearted woman refused to let us pay for our meal. “Just pay it forward at your next stop,” she said.

Besides authentic German cuisine, wine trails, breweries, and monthly festivals, Hermann lies just off the Katy Trail. At 240 miles,it’s the longest rails-to-trails in the U.S., most of it meandering alongside the Missouri River. Dramatic limestone bluffs guarded one side of the path we cycled from Bluffton to Portland. Dark patches of forest entangled with thick vines interspersed with wildflowers and scenic glimpses of the river on the trail’s opposite border. We crossed primitive iron bridges and studied signs portraying highlights of the Lewis & Clark Expedition as they paddled the river in keel-boats, exploring, hunting, fishing, and bartering with local Indians. Now that was a REAL adventure! Additional knowledge was gleaned about these early adventurers and the MKT railroad/Katy Trail from a side trip to Boonville’s River, Rails, & Trails Museum along with nearby walks to the historic train depot and Katy Bridge, currently under restoration, which spans the wide Missouri River.

Our next port of call was Thibaut Point Park on Truman Lake adjoining Lake of the Ozarks. Kayaks were slid into the water from our campsite. We crossed a small inlet observing 2 bald eagles perched atop a bare tree who kept a keen eye on the 2 crazy humans below. This 55,000 acre lake is a summer breeding ground and winter habitat for eagles. Reclining near the shore in late afternoon, we delighted as they and turkey vultures soared in wide circles, hunting for dinner. Hummingbirds and butterflies feasted on nectar while bluebirds, cardinals, and a variety of shorebirds flittered about. The only obnoxious critters were the dive-bombing horseflies, making paradise not quite perfect. However, day’s end presented extraordinary sunsets, then starlit skies as we sipped wine around the campfire.

An hour southeast of Truman Lake lay HaHa Tonka State Park. We met our exercise quota there investigating The Castle, a burned out stone mansion constructed in the early 1900s with two tragic tales haunting its impressive ruins and grounds. Overlooking a finger of Lake of the Ozarks, we peered through hardwood forest and glimpsed the natural blue-green spring far below. An anticipated 30 minute jaunt down transformed into a challenging 2+ hour trek. The well-maintained boardwalk of the Del Rim Trail was the preamble to a descent of 360 wooden steps leading to the Spring Trail wandering beside an idyllic spring pool. Lush ferns, flowers, and nutrient-rich earth permeated the cool air. But what comes down must eventually go back up—if you want to get to your car! Only 60 steps and a significantly steep and rocky trail eventually brought us back to where we began.

After a nourishing sleep we packed up and pointed the RV in a westerly direction, heading to Colorado. But 1st we had to make it through the wide, wide state of Kansas. The journey will continue in my next excerpt of “Thank Goodness for the Great Outdoors—Part 2, Rails & Trails”.

“Receive My peace as you lie down to sleep with thankful thoughts playing a lullaby in your mind.”—Sarah Young

Fiji, Part 2—Magical Days

Shortly after dawn we raised the anchor from Ono and sailed White Dove 10 miles to Kandavu Island. Several villages were scattered along Kavala Bay’s shoreline. Interior mountains were blanketed in shades of green.

Within an hour of arrival Saiasi and his family motored out in their fishing panga. It turned out that they knew cruising friends of ours and had been expecting us. News travels fast in the Great Astrolabe’s small community! We became acquainted over tea and fresh papaya cake.

In the afternoon we presented kava to the main village’s chief, and then rowed to a rocky beach surrounded by mangroves. Traipsing up a steep red-dirt road, we gazed down upon a luxuriant “Garden of Eden” rich with palms entwined by medusa-like vines, and trees laden with breadfruit, bananas, mangoes, and papaya.

The modest dwelling of Saiasi, his wife Liku, and their 3 children: Louisa, Govu, and Daiana was set within a small village in the hills. Sitting on mats, we chatted, eating yams and crackers while chickens strutted and clucked through the tidy home and clothes fluttered on lines outside the window.

Saiasi was in the process of constructing a new house when he was fortunate enough to have building materials. In the cool air of morning he tended the village’s vegetable gardens and kava fields. He, like most Fijians, was proud of and loved his family, island, and nation.

Liku fished with the women along the shore and probed the shallow reefs for delicacies. She was a busy housewife and mother with none of our modern conveniences. It was a toilsome life, but with little stress.

18-year old Louisa gave us a tour of her secondary school where she’s the “smartest girl in the class.” There were several buildings including dorms since there were few schools and teens came from all over. Supplies were sparse and the tiny library’s shelves only half full. Both Louisa and Daiana plan to become teachers.

Neighbors of the family invited us over to tell our story and share a cup of kava. The earthy scent pervaded the air as we passed the coconut shell around, clapping and pretending to enjoy the tepid, dirty-dishwater looking and tasting refreshment that numbed our lips and tongues.

One early evening Saiasi’s family came for dinner on the boat, each of us preparing a traditional dish. Daiana was inquisitive about everything, especially our books and photos. Quiet 15-year old Govu informed us he didn’t care much for school and planned to be a farmer like his dad. His favorite pastime was fishing and driving the family panga. He and his dad were fascinated by our radios, GPS, and depth sounder displaying fish swimming beneath the boat.

Taking a break from social activities, we spent a day snorkeling amid colorful sea fans, stag-horn, brain, mushroom, and other corals. Multitudes of bright tropical fish darted through underwater passageways and swirled around us. Eggshell cowries covered an enchanting area, their black velvety inhabitants partially encasing their smooth exterior shells. A venomous lion fish shied away from us in a rocky outcropping as we carefully swam away from its painful spines.

Another afternoon we discovered a village buried deep in the jungle from which a narrow path led to a waterfall. Two young girls with dark curly hair, enormous eyes, and shy smiles became our unofficial guides. The youngest never spoke, but Mary chattered away in perfect English. which is taught at school. The muddy trail took us up, down, and winding across lush valleys and sweltering jungle, using tree roots as steps and handholds. Within the stillness musk parrots squawked and their crimson chests, green and blue wings flashed through the treetops.

The roar of water enticed us to pick up the pace and soon we entered a clearing. Cascading falls dropped 50+ feet over rock into a deep green pool. Lacy ferns, climbing vines with delicate flowers, fragrant frangipani, pink and purple dendrobium orchids, and trees encircled us. We dropped to the moist earth, abandoned shoes, and waded into the coolness of our private pond. A picnic and brief siesta followed.

Our final afternoon before setting sail back to the reality of Suva, Saiasi and family paid a final visit. We laughed, cried, took photos, and shared gifts including building supplies and books. It was one of our most emotional farewells. Bear hugs, handclasps, and moces were reluctantly exchanged.

As we journeyed across oceans, anticipating what awaited us in countries yet to be explored, we wondered if we would ever recapture anything close to those magical days of friendship and beauty within the Great Astrolabe of Fiji.

A friend may well be reckoned the masterpiece of nature

—Ralph Waldo Emerson

Fiji—Where Time Stands Still

Among Fiji’s Great Astrolabe Reef, the world’s 4th largest barrier reef, not only is hospitality legendary, but deeply embedded rituals, culture, & ancient lore are intertwined with daily living-CF

Arriving in Fiji during the May 2000 coup was not on the itinerary of White Dove’s world cruise. We anchored in Suva on Viti Levu, the capitol of Fiji, only long enough to check into the country and provision. After a full day of sailing we reached an isolated string of jeweled islands set in a crystalline sea, encircled by the Great Astrolabe Reef.

It requires good charts, GPS, and vigilance to navigate this coral labyrinth, famous for excellent fishing, diving, and impressive cruising. Or fly in and stay at a comfy resort. Not an option for us adventurous types! For 2 days we basked in solitude at deserted Yaukauvelevu Island, combing its beaches and snorkeling azure waters. We then moved to Ono, a medium-sized island with several scattered villages where extended families live by the motto, “Life is not a race, but a pleasurable pace.”

For a week at Nagarra Bay we were immersed in Fijian culture. First on the agenda was sevusevu-presenting a gift of kava roots to the village chief. *See note at end of article: “Visiting a village”. Next we delivered a letter from a woman we met in Suva to her Uncle Epinere and his family. Never did we imagine the depth of opportunities this simple act would lead to. While we passed out candy, Anna served banana cake and tea. When Jerry was invited indoors by the men for their afternoon kava, I remained with the women and children, conversing as they grated coconut and washed laundry and dishes in large bowls. The next afternoon we shared a meal. Wooden bowls and large shells filled with fried fish with onions, sweet land crab, diced giant clams in coconut milk, bananas, and rice were passed around, each of us plucking out pieces with our fingers. Afterwards stories and photos were partaken of.

Day 3 we presented these new friends with freshly-baked pineapple cake before trekking across one end of the island. Figured we need some exercise after all that eating! Our guide, 11-year-old Sala, led us through dense rain forest where birds serenaded as multi-colored butterflies flittered among ferns, orange and black heliconia, vibrant red hibiscus, and delicate orchids. The slippery path was barely discernible, but the discomforts of sweating, mud, and mosquitoes vanished as we emerged onto a pristine white sand beach. No humans, but we were greeted by 100’s of “walking shells”, home to the cutest hermit crabs. Their antics entertained us as we reclined in the shade, sharing a picnic and the soothing ambience of this magical hideaway.

Snorkeling outside Nagarra Bay was amazing. Encircling 2 tiny islands a vibrant rainbow of corals, peacock-blue starfish, purple sea urchins, and an incredible kaleidoscope of exotic fish dazzled us. Fortunately we didn’t notice the poisonous black and yellow striped sea snake until we were safely aboard the dinghy!

Several afternoons were spent visiting with locals. We dispersed books, magazines, material, toys, school supplies, and more to Epinere’s family and his sister-in-law, Bui plus her 3 children. She lived with extended family while her husband, stationed in the Middle East, served in the United Nations Army alongside many other Fijian men. Such simple gifts gave great pleasure. Although mainly living off the land and sea, the villagers never hesitated to share whatever they had, including invites for a cup of lemon leaf tea or kava. Joe, Epinere’s brother, thanked Jerry for repairing his spear gun and several antiquated spears by presenting him with a gorgeous Triton shell. Schools throughout the remote South Pacific islands lacked essential materials and books so we donated a portion of our dwindling supply to the local teacher.

We bid farewell to these new friends, exchanging addresses, hugs, and smiles. A final image forever engraved in our memories is of a group of islanders standing by a thatched hut, palms swaying, a backdrop of densely foliaged hills, and the bay gently lapping at a primitive stone seawall. All were waving and had wide grins. Their cries of “Moce” followed us across the peaceful lagoon.

Live in the sunshine, swim the sea, drink the wild air.
Ralph Waldo Emerson
Visiting a village:
-Ask for permission to present a gift of kava to the chief.
-Kava ceremony- Sit crossed-legged facing chief; never turn your back on or sit higher than chief; never walk across the circle of people; when offered kava clap once, say “Bula”, drink quickly, and clap 2-3 times.
-Visitors are treated with exceptional hospitality. Reciprocate with basic groceries, second-hand clothing, candy, small toys, building materials, etc…
-Modest dress-Knee length skirt or dress for women. It’s rude to wear a hat or sunglasses.
-Ask permission to take photos.

New Zealand #2—A Land of Paths

We all have a long road to walk. We have desires, dreams, destinations. We have hopes & goals. So we begin to map out a course for our lives. Some may map the logical routes; others might take the roads less traveled. However, we would do well to always hold our life map loosely. We may set our goals, lay out our courses, and map our lives, but when it’s all said & done, God is ultimately overseeing it all.

Painting & excerpt from “Glorious Refrains” by Thomas Kinkaid

Lovers of tramping are drawn to New Zealand’s numerous trails maintained by local Kiwis. The most difficult part is choosing from kauri forests, coastal panoramas, historical and archeological sites, bird and wildlife viewing, waterfalls and streams. So many choices, so little time. A few we ventured down on North Island were gotten to by car, but some were only accessible by boat.

Quaint, historical Russell lies across the bay from Opua. This haven for wanderers, artists, and romantics was where Zane Grey wrote about its world-class sport-fishing. Sea excursions were offered via kayak, square rigger, or yacht. For trampies there was a 2.5-km walking track that began near the boat ramp on the Strand, leading to Flagstaff Hill. Follow a grassy path 1-km further north for Tapeka Point to an ancient pa-historical fort, and delight in views over the Bay of Islands.

2. Kerikeri Basin harbors a network of paths ranging from 10-minutes to 1-1/2 hours. We side-tied to a friendly local’s sailboat adjacent to the Stone Store and nearby Mission House. Built in the early 1830s, Wesleyan missionary, John Hobbs intended it to house mission supplies, but was mainly used as a kauri gum trading store. From the Store a 30-minute walk headed downstream to Kororipo pa. Or from the carpark a 1-1/2-hour riverside path led upstream to serene Rainbow Falls. We never minded the 1-1/2-mile trek through a forest of Norfolk & other pines, eucalyptus, and fern archways to the town grocery.

3. State Highway 12 on Northland’s west coast led toward Waipoua Kauri Forest and Trounson Kauri Conservation Park where various hikes wound along boardwalks, protecting the tree’s shallow root system. Some of the oldest and largest Kauris in the world grow here. Several tracks also led through native trees of Taraire, Kohekohe, and Towhai to waterfalls and panoramic views across sub-tropical rain-forest to the Tasman Sea. The illusive kiwi bird, forest parrots, kingfishers, and large kauri snails were among the varied wildlife. To gain a broader understanding of these majestic trees and their history, we visited the Kauri Museum in Matakohe. There’s a working steam sawmill, logging equipment, displays depicting how gum was collected and specimens of NZ amber, fine kauri furniture, carvings, and more.

4. The Maori named Great Barrier Island Aotea, which translates to White Cloud, appropriate for the secluded cove we nestled in off Port Fitzroy Harbor. Above forest-clad mountain ranges, white clouds often formed on peaks during the afternoon. The diverse eco-system was a refuge for rare species of birds and lizards among spectacular bluffs, bush, beaches, and wetlands. Hiking was superb on this wilderness island. One day we followed Kaiaraara stream to a series of cascading falls. Deep pools invited a cool swim. A loud fantail followed our trek, gobbling up insects we disturbed. Also spotted was the iridescent green native wood pigeon. Pausing during our 5-hour hike for a rain shower in a tramping hut, we read guest book notes from hikers around the world. The trail ended at a kauri dam built by early Europeans who exploited the land for lumber and other resources.

5. Special memories were made at North Cove on Kawau Island. During Russell’s Tall Ships race and dinner we had encountered cruising legend friends, Lin and Larry Pardey. We took them up on their invitation and anchored near their lovely home and large workshop for a week of celebrations and non-stop stories. A providential introduction to friend and editor of Sail Magazine led to my first published article.

Nearby Bon Accord Harbor offered a beautiful tramp to Mansion House with views of an old cement factory and copper mine ruins. Through brush we glimpsed darling wallabies and on the luxurious grounds peacocks strutted and chicken-sized brown wekas clucked accompanied by tuis, known for their mimicry and lively songs.

Of all the countries we’ve explored, I’d return to New Zealand in a heartbeat. It’s friendly folk, diverse natural beauty, and labyrinth of trails beckon both yachties and trampies. Here quiet paths and anchorages await every seeking soul.

Rolling green hills on ***Urapukapuka Island*** held archeological tramps to several Maori sites.

He traveled light and often walked with no particular destination, because each inch of the path held answers and questions, the first step as rich as the last—from “John Muir, Nature’s Visionary “ by Gretel Ehrlich