Well, what do you want to know about?

So, we're still kicking around Lovina. I'd really like to get moving on to Kalimantan / Borneo, but honestly? It's fine. Not just because of the easy access to yummy little restaurants (goat sate, delicious, trust me!). Not just because we have caught up on so many little projects around here. After a bunch of months, I finally having the blog in sync with our life. The gaps between internet access, and my desire not to skip some of stories between access points (I can update via radio, but no internet = no photos), meant it got spread it out for a while there.

There are a few more Balinese vignettes to share, but meanwhile, I've got a bunch of non-location-specific posts that are partly done. So I thought I'd ask... what do YOU want to know about cruising on Totem?

Here's what's rolling around in my head, or half-written. Maybe one of these will grab, maybe you've got something else you want to hear about. Let me know in the comments, by email, or our Facebook page...whatever's easy.

• Sunscreen / sun protection
• Essential oils on board- cleaners, lotions, and more
• Dealing with seasickness
• Power management: wind, solar, batteries, and use
• Passage meals
• Wearing...what? Cruising friendly clothes on Totem
• Favorite DIYs: from acidophilus cultured milk (yogurt!) to kombucha
• Not tourists, not expats, not locals...how do we fit in? (thank you Gary!)
• What's in Totem's medical kit (thank you Naomi!)
• What we use for navigation
• Onboard communications
• Getting and using water
• Beating the heat in the tropics
• Dealing with the bugs
• Trading
• Getting exercise aboard (aka: I love Boat Pose!)
• Trashed (well, dealing with garbage)
• Green boating
• Staying safe
• Boatschooling
• Kid-specific questions
• Clearing into countries, with and without an agent (thank you Cidnie!)
• ? you tell me!

...and with that, I leave this image from yesterday's Not Really Fun squall. Totem's freeboard is about 5', so you have an idea of the kind of hobbyhorsing that was going on.

Lovina: juggling hawkers while we play the waiting game

Gili Air to Lovina was a pleasant day trip.

Just point the boat towards Gunung Agung, and go!

We were cheated by the wind and had to motor, again, although since seasonal breezes are now generally from behind us we had really hoped to sail. But we needed to get there to renew our visas one more time and couldn't be late for the Immigration Office, so off we went.

putt putt putt putt

Immigration in Singaraja, about five miles up the road from Lovina, tells us it will take about a week to process the extensions. It's been a week. Actually, it's longer, because once they are ready it still takes at least a couple of days and two more office visits for us to pay them (we're not permitted to pay at submission time), collect visas, and provide them with photocopies of our updated passports with the new stamp. This is Indonesian bureaucracy, people. It is painful and slow.

I have amassed a collection of photos of the kids sitting around in immigration offices

Immigration is more confused with our application than usual. There is a lot of discussion happening as our officer reviews the case with his boss. They want to speak with our sponsor (to get a social visa- which can be extended more than once, unlike the visa on arrival- you need to have a local sponsor). Great. Well, fortunately she is in Bali. Ruth speaks to them on the phone. Not enough: they want to meet her! It seems unbelievable, but once again, she proves herself to be a really terrific agent, and devotes the entire following day to a trip up to Immigration. She and a friend joined us later for dinner on Totem.

Ruth visiting on Totem in Lovina

Cruisers- if you'll be coming here, we highly recommend her services for boat permitting (the infamous CAIT) and visa support! Ruth can be reached at info@islemarine.com; details at www.islemarine.com.

It could be worse. I mean, we're in BALI. Mostly, we're are using the time to get the boat clean, catch up on projects, catch up on learning, and do a little touristing around. Touristing, because this is a tourist town on a tourist island. When in Rome, right?

So, we hit some tourist spots. One great way to slough off the impatience with immigration bureaucracy? Hit the hot springs!

Tourists, but Balinese as well, all taking the water

We don't have our swimming suits. For the kids- no problem, they can wear their tank tops and underwear. Adults,  not so much. I buy a cheap sarong and swim in that instead.

Siobhan sticks her head under the water spouts

Immigration delays? What immigration delays?

Other aspects of local tourism are less pleasant. When we land the dinghy on shore, hawkers descend to sell us everything from fruit and massages to bracelets or laundry services. Attempts to explain that we're not the usual vacationers day-tripping from Kuta are only mildly successful. It becomes really tiresome to explain to the same person for the umpteenth time in a week that no, you're not interested in buying their carvings / tshirts / bracelets / whatever.

Being sold to is still part of each dinghy landing and walk up to the main road. I can't stand being rude and just walking away from someone who is talking to me, but when it's the only option- you have to ask, who is really being rude?

We make friends with Maria, who purveys her fruit and services from the east end of the beach, and realizes that a soft sell works better with us. She delivers a lecture in Balinese to a few of the other sellers, after which they back off... mostly. Time seems to help us more than anything, as our faces slowly become familiar.

I'm sure whole families eke out a living on the few dollars that are made from beach vending, so it's high stakes and they have more to lose. Less fun for us, but how big a deal is that, really? It's the price to pay for traveling through tourist country again.

Lazy days on Gili Air

The three "Gili" islands off the NE corner of Lombok are a big change from the traffic and noise of south Bali: there are no motorized vehicles, only pony carts and bicycles to get around. We were really ready for the slower pace after having to sit in hot traffic to get anywhere on Bali... that wasn't really fun.

A single sandy track rings the Gili Air, which you can bounce around to the jingle of your pony's bells in about half an hour.

Open air bars and restaurants, with little more than the sandy beach for a floor, line about half of the circumference; guest houses look out over pretty blue water to Lombok.

The rest is just pretty, unspoiled beachfront... and some very hard working local folks. Everything- food, water, building supplies...everything- has to be brought in by boat from Lombok or Bali.

Of the three "Gilis", Gili Air one is the quietest- which just means there are a handful of families on vacation, and independent travelers outnumber the twentysomething backpacking set; the younger crowd seems to congregate at "Gili T" for the all night full moon parties. We're ready for bed at Cruiser's Midnight (9pm) so this suits us well. An added bonus, Gili Air has inexpensive moorings to help us keep the boat gear off the coral, and our friend Brian from the M/V Furthur to visit with.

We spent a lovely few days and could have lingered if it weren't for the visa extension schedule pushing us on again. First, though, there is a big job to do cleaning a crazy layer of barnacles off the bottom of Totem. One month in the fertile and fetid waters of Serangan gave it the thickest growth we have ever seen... that's saying quite a lot! Jamie took the worst off the prop and rudder back in Serangan, but we know we had a big job waiting.

Thank goodness for Dive Master Brian, who loaned a tank to speed the job along. Jamie got about 2/3 of the bottom clean on that tank, and spread the rest over a couple of afternoons. It was BAD! All those little critters don't like being disturbed, either. I helped Jamie with vinegar/alcohol ear drops when he got out and watched a couple of little critters CLIMB OUT HIS EARS. Yes, it's as gross as it sounds, and gives you the serious heebie jeebies to see much less to feel them yourself.

It was fun to play tourist for a while. We swam a little, paid for the tourist stuff we don't usually do (pony cart tour! yoga studio sessions! drinks with umbrellas! gelato!), enjoyed a couple of non-local style meals, and spent a few evenings out, listening to live music... good times.

Totem moored at Gili Air; Bali's Gunung Agung in the distance

Furthur adventures of "The Happy Family"

There's only one cruiser that we can say we have shared the waters with in Mexico, South Pacific islands, Australia, *and* Asia- Brian Calvert, on the M/V Further. Brian has seen our kids grow up afloat like few other cruisers have, so it was a much anticipated rendezvous when we saw him again in Bali.

Niall on Furthur for the start of the Sydney-Hobart Race, December 2010

Perhaps this shared history is why when Brian asked us if Niall would like to jump ship and come up to Gili Air with him, a day or so ahead of Totem, I said "yes"- and so our nearly-14-year-old off on a little adventure of his own, to be a contributing member of the Further crew.

Niall isn't the typical Furthur crew. They typically are smart, interesting, international travelers- he's right with them there- but they also tend to look good in a bikini. Niall's more of a baggy trunks guy, but he fit in anyway.

Niall teaches the Furthur crew a few common knots

As Niall sped away from Serangan on the back of Brian's motorcycle, I had one of those parenting moments when you wonder if you really did the right thing. I really was sure that we had, but we live such a close family life- literally always within a few yards of each other- that having my baby (I'm sorry Niall but it's always going to be that way) go off with someone else just gave me pause, and a little twist in my gut.

Brian seemed to know this. Here's a transcript from some of our chats the next day, as we hugged the Bali coast and tried not to lose our engine or go the wrong way in shipping traffic.

Brian: the lad has something new to show you, hehehehe
me: uh oh, what will we find when we get there?
Brian: something new... hehehehehe
me: Um, nothing permanent I hope?
Brian: define permanent, hohoho...

Oh yes. Then, later- as we quelled our engine / filter issues:

me: looks like we'll make it after all.
Brian: ok. will go ashore about 7 to play music. if you get here after that, call, Niall will be with us, hanging out in a bar... hohoho...
me: OK, which bar do I chase my boy down in later? I cannot believe I just asked that.
...
Brian: just about to post a pic for you.
me: is that a warning?
Brian: hehehehe

Gotta love Brian. He knew all the mommy buttons to push, and I know not all the grey hair I earned on our eventful trip up to Gili Air were from our engine troubles.

Totem and Furthur, Gili Air

We had three amazing days hanging out with Furthur and crew on Gili Air. Evenings were spent at Freedom Bar, where Brian busting out Dead tunes on his trusty Gibson made me want to twirl on the beach. Two of Brian's crew, Sam and Rosie, hung out with us while Brian played- the girls adored Sam, and were practically in her lap as she let them braid her gorgeous long hair over and over (I hope it didn't take too long to untangle in the morning!).

Brian's partner in crime music at Freedom is the inimitable Agu Gong. Agu has a permanent smile on his face.



The first night we were there, en famille (what, that's not how everyone goes to bars?), Agu looked at us and said: "The Happy Family"! What can I say- it stuck. I suppose we do walk around with smiles, and what's not to be happy about when you're relaxing with friends, digging your feet in the sand, listening to good music over the roll of gentle waves on a beach, with a freshly whirled up fruit smoothie (or G&T depending on your age!)? Every time we saw Agu after that, he would light up and proclaim again- "the happy family!" as we approached. It's stuck with Brian, too. Brian, who would tell you he is Not A Kid Person, yet hosted our son and has been caught with our kids hanging all over him and a big smile on his face more than once.

Thank you Brian, for opening up a side of Gili Air we wouldn't have seen without you, and for jumping on the awesome moniker!

You can follow Brian's adventures on his blog. There may or may not be a secret second blog of Further tales. He's written his take our "Happy Family", too.

It's not always rosy

I tend to write about the positive aspects of our life. It's not a concerted effort to avoid the icky parts; it's simply not my preference to dwell on them. Well, consider yourself warned, because is a departure. Totem just had "one of those" days.

This is... not one of those days. No, this was a perfect day. I'm just going to revel in that for a mo.

We have been really fortunate to have had few problems with Totem's trusty engine, a 75 hp Yanmar 4JH3TE. Although Totem is a 31 year old boat, she was re powered just a few years before we bought her in 2007: a decided bonus. We (by which I mean Jamie, because while I aspire to diesel proficiency- this is squarely in his skill set and not mine) do our best to keep it humming happily along by treating it kindly, sticking to a maintenance schedule, and bringing in expert advice now and then. It has thanked us by performing as intended.

So it was a little alarming when new sounds began shaking out from the engine room as we motored north up the straits between Bali and Lombok.

Let me set the stage a little here. The waters between Bali and Lombok are one of the pinch points that massive quantities of water are squeezed through. Currents are reported to run up to 8 and 9 knots, generally southbound, in the daily rush to move water from one side of Indonesia to the other. There is no book or almanac or guide that can tell you what will REALLY happen out there: you simply know that southbound is a fast ride, and northbound can be a slog. We quizzed many local water folk for their wisdom, and came up with inconsistent reports. One hopes for the best, waits for the sweetest conditions possible, and goes for it. And so, near the end of the ebb and at first light, we went for it.

It is a sloppy mess outside Serangan harbor, where the direction of the current ran against the wind and swell, creating a shifting mass of short hills in the water pile-ups for us to navigate (the fancy word is standfalls). Jamie is steering us through them, trying to keep a course that won't throw us around too much. We are only making a couple of knots (hitting 3 knots is a high): it's running 4.5-6 kts against us. In the middle of all this, the engine starts to sound... well, not like it's usual happy self.

At some point, the engine noises become impossible to ignore. I take over, and Jamie checks our filters. Filthy. The slop has surely kicked up any sediment in the tanks. We also know we got dirty fuel in Labuan Bajo- Jamie double filtered it before it went into the tank, but bits still get through. The noise we hear (or, don't hear) is hesitation in the engine as it is fuel-starved.

The first of our two primary Racor filters comes out to swap for a new spare. this should be doable without shutting down the engine, but the Yanmar has other ideas in mind- it slows and coughs to a halt, the shrieking oil pressure alarm reminding us that All Is Not Well. The other primary must be too clogged to work solo.

Deep breath. Finish filter change. Restart engine. Engine starts.... sputters... stops. Opening the clogged fiilter introduced air, that's all, and it just needs to pull fuel through- the next start catches and holds. In just a few minutes, the current has carried us back a distance marked in harsh red slashes across the chartplotter. Towards the island, of course, and an ugly shore, natch. Nice if you're a surfer, I suppose.

Running north for another hour, the engine continues to make awkward hiccups. Every time it catches, Jamie and I give each other That Look: the one which says- honey, I really hope we can get through this without any ugly complications.

We need to anchor deal with the rest of the filters, since the engine is likely to stop again. At least the sea state has abated, and back eddies near shore keep us out of the worst of the current. Because we weren't having enough fun yet, a big squall now looms just south and east of our position. And because the gods truly want to laugh at us, we hit unseen debris in the water. The boat shakes, then begins to shake with cavitation from the engine. Great!

We ease Totem in towards shore, picking a roadstead spot that shelves out to anchoring depth to drop the hook. Jamie and I drop the dinghy so he can jump in the water (it's hung on davits across our swim step for short passages) and check the prop. (Mental note: we really should have a quickly deployed rope ladder!)

The good news is that there is no damage, it's just a big plastic bag wrapped around the prop. We're grateful again that we have installed a flexible shaft coupling, which has dampened all manner of the plastic debris we've hit in Indonesia. It's a hazard of cruising in the well-trashed waters here, unfortunately. Jamie is able to get it off by hand and it floats away in the current.

Within a few minutes, Jamie has the other primary filter (there are two) and the secondary fuel filters changed. This time, we anticipate that  air in the system will probably stall us out at least once, and it does...just with fewer heart palpitations on behalf of the Totem crew!

Being just hundreds of yards from a big shore break, with no wind, with foul current, and with the prospect of a non-functioning engine was the most stressful day we've had in a very long time.

In the end, it was entirely undramatic. It was tense, and stressful. We were a little lucky, a little smart, and it all worked out just fine. A few small pods of dolphins next to Totem as we close the final mile into Gili Air caps it off.

Oh, there was a little fun with a massive cargo ship that seemed to divert course with the intention of letting us just (and I mean just) cross in front of them. Um, no thank you, that is a massive hunk of floating tonnage that we do not want to be playing tag with! Our AIS indicates it should be OK, but our eyeballs and our guts are not comfortable with the assessment. We make a 90 degree course change and duck them instead. Why take any risks? What's a delay of a few minutes to buy safety?

Definitely too close for comfort.

I had read a note in the morning on the Kids4Sail forum (cruising families, you need to get on there now!) from a guy who posted questions to a forum last year. His cruising dreams fell apart when he couldn't arrive at satisfactory answers to the questions from his family about the safety and practicality of their planned adventure- it whittled away at his dreams until the romance was gone, and the plan was abandoned. But here's the thing. Safety and practicality don't have to be casualties. We can have beautiful sunsets and wild adventures with plenty of spare parts and cautious decisions. I suppose practicality is relative and depends on our priorities, and everyone will have a different story. This man and his family will be able to find a path to other adventures, but it reminded me that this is the hard path to take. It has tremendous rewards, and I'm grateful we've followed it, even when the days aren't rosy. If every day were perfect, if every one had a rum drink under a palm tree with a postcard sunset and having enough fuel filters was irrelevant- well, everyone would be doing this!

You can go home again (Bali edition)

Even at one o'clock in the morning, stepping off the plane in Bali is like walking into a wall of warm humid air. It takes some adjustment, but at the same time, it felt as though every pore of my skin opened up and said "thank you."

Other than the fact that my sweet husband had to meet me on the beach at an ungodly hour, it was so nice to be home! While my travels back to the states reassured that corner of my mind that wondered if we could go back again... returning to Bali reminded me as well that home also really is where the family is, where Totem is. She's our floating home, wherever she happens to lie; we are home for each other.

Bali held yet another homecoming for me. Twenty two years ago, I lived in here while participating in a college semester abroad program with the Vermont-based School for International Training. Yes, it was just as fantastic as it sounds to spend half a year studying in Bali! It was an unforgettable, indelible experience.

One of the real delights in being back was the chance to track down the family who had hosted me, fed me, and made fun of me as one of their own for the months I lived in Ubud.

Yep, that's me, in 1991. A little chunked out from a semester of dorm food at Tunghai University in Taiwan. The little boy just right of me in the photo, Wayan Manikan, was my little brother in this host family- I'm holding his cousin, who was having a ceremony to mark his feet touching the ground (a big deal, and something that doesn't occur in Bali until after a child is three months old).

Without an address, I wondered how difficult it would be to find my old family. Armed with a tattered album of photographs I had printed in Kuta in 1991, I followed my nose. I remembered that they were in Tebesaya, one of the 14 villages that comprise what's known as Ubud. "Ubud" was frankly unrecognizable to me: it wasn't just the traffic, which was jarring, but the striking amount of development that's taken place since 1991. I expected it to feel familiar, yet there wasn't even a pang. What once held small shops now housed glitzy stores (like Ralph Lauren... really?!). We went to a restaurant I recalled because it had been surrounded by rice paddies; it was surrounded by concrete development. The success of "Eat, Pray, Love" seems to have brought a fantastic number of self-satisfied looking Women Of A Certain Age (well, I suppose I'm one of them) to troll the streets for yoga wear, herbal tea, Balinese wisdom and Brazilian lovers. I was at a loss... pusing, dizzy/disoriented, the Indonesians would say.

I walked down the main road in the Tebesaya banjar (neighborhood) away from the hub of Ubud, as the glassy storefronts gave way to warungs and small shops I finally began to get my bearings. When I saw the bale banjar on a corner, I knew just where to go.

How do you return to a family who fostered you, more than two decades later? I didn't have a mailing address for them (and postal service is iffy at best in Indonesia). This was well before the internet took over and simplified most of our communications. There had not been a practical way to stay in touch, and did not know if they would have the foggiest idea who I was.

Perhaps, once again, I shouldn't have worried about how hard it would be to go home again. My host father, Ketut, was called back to the compound from work (by a new wife, who didn't know me), and after a few minutes to feel out our respective memories- we pretty much picked up where we left off.

Ketut and me... 22 years later. Oh, I wish I had an old photo of us to compare this with!

It was really special for me to share this reunion with my family. Ketut was as curious to meet them as I was to catch up on his life. To my delight, he was just as I remembered him: friendly, welcoming, jocular- and always, always, with a smile on his face. His son Wayan, that cute little kid in the old photograph, is now in his late twenties, married with a five year old. Unfortunatel for me, Wayan was away, working on a cruise shop out of Panama- but I met his young daughter, and all I could thing was... well... meep! He has a KID! Aging isn't always graceful for me. Of course he has a child...

The rest of the family had as much meeting Ketut as I did getting to know him all over again.

this belly laugh you see shows exactly who Ketut is... a truly fun loving guy

We only had a couple of days in Ubud, so after finding Ketut the first day, we opted to spend all of the second with him before going back to Totem and sailing out of Serangan. Ketut was working as a painter in 1991, but now acts as a tour guide and driver. Lucky us! Quality time for me blended with Bali exploring for the family.

We spent a fantastic day together, driving to see whatever felt important at the time. Long walks along picturesque terraced paddies (I'd spent much of my term learning about wet rice agriculture here), a few obligatory Touron sites (stunning temples, the kids were just getting a little "templed-out"), an amazing lunch at a little warung somewhere in the middle of the countryside.  He talked us through many intricacies of Balinese culture. Why are there temples in the middle of a rice paddy? How is their location chosen? What is the meaning of the black and white patterns found in everything from intersections to the cloth that wraps shrines? He was so very, very good to us.

Once more, I'm reminded it really is possible to go home again, and so very grateful. What a relief, and what a gift!

Ketut Juwet is a wonderful guide. If you're coming to Bali, he can help you get around too- in comfort, and with great color! Give him a call at 0812 3977 371. His English is fantastic, but besides his good nature, it's his ability to articulate the intricate aspects of Balinese culture that make him an especially wonderful guide.

You can go home again

In early April, I flew to the USA from Bali. My parents were moving out of a home they've had for 30+ years and had a daunting task of packing up, so went back to give them a hand. The blog has been in "catch up" mode since then, but we are finally pretty much caught up. I like to keep it real time but we've gradually slipped as internet access has been hard to come by. Images bring the stories to life, and it's hard to keep the posts photo-rich without a good connection!

It was an amazing trip, even waking up to scenes like this were a shock to the system. Almost as surprising as hearing a southern accent in the Seoul airport's English PA announcements. Seriously, how did that happen?



I hadn't seen my parents in three and a half years- our last visit to the states, when we drove north from Mexico in the 2009 hurricane season. Being able to arrive on my father's birthday was really special! We decorated his (German Chocolate) cake with an egg cozy that Mairen had made.



Skype is great for staying in touch, but there's nothing like being together! My brother flew in from Brookline to visit, and brought his three year old daughter- what a joy to meet my niece for the first time. I am one seriously happy auntie.



We did have blue skies... for about a day and a half, as the northern Michigan spring fought hard to come forth. It was at least enough to revisit a favorite spot again: this cool "Turnip Rock" is just down the road, and features in a whoooole lotta my childhood / young adulthood summertime memories.



It was a busy few weeks, trying to find balance between my tendency to purge (amazing how boat living can change the way you feel about Stuff) and my parent's need to take more time, and respect the history and memories that this house holds while thinking about what still has a place in their future. We made it, I helped a little, and we're still talking, so it's all good.

Before flying back to Bali, I spent three days in the home turf of Bainbridge Island. There's really just one picture that sums it up for me:

I'm just going to say that I am one very, very lucky person to call Tracey my friend. We met with babies, and now we've got high school students (eeek!). She helps hold us together back in the states. I will admit: I worried about if it would be hard to jump back in after not seeing her for nearly five years. It wasn't. My heart is full, and I am a ninny for even wondering.

And while my heart-cup runneth over, I was able to see my aunties. These four women are precious, and as i think I may have said a few times that night (I blame the killer Hitchcock martini), they make me feel like I won the jackpot in the auntie lottery.



When I first firmed up plans to go back, the children were all over me- "you're SO LUCKY!" "I'm jealous!" I tried to make them feel better about it by downplaying my plans- I mean, hey, they were in BALI. It doesn't suck. But it's true: I had a special chance to go home again. We can't afford to fly home as a family, and it was special- they just wanted to share that, to celebrate it with me- and once I could realize that, we reveled in it together instead. The real magic for me came when I realized how wonderful, how lucky I am, to be able to actually go home and feel at home. To be welcomed back by friends like Tracey and Joan, like my old Razorfish mates; to see the spring greening the island on familiar ways; to know that this place was one I could always, always come home to.