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October, 2012:

Practicing Presence in Tonga

Stop by any of the nightly beach happy hours here in Tonga and you’ll hear the same conversations at each one: “When are you thinking of leaving for N-Zed?” and “Are you heading down to the Ha’apai’s first?” and “Stopping by Minerva?”

With our impending passages to New Zealand only weeks away, this seems to be the only thing on sailors’ minds here and it consumes nearly all of our happy hour talk. All the boats heading to Australia have left already and the ones remaining here are getting ready to head to New Zealand for the summer.

This passage can be knarly if it’s not played right as there are a number of weather challenges to contend with: the South Pacific Convergence Zone bobs around Tonga and Fiji and it’s best to avoid sailing in the convection (i.e. lightening), rain and squalls that live in it. Squash zones (i.e. tightly packed pressure gradients) form regularly between our latitude and NZ and they hold “surprise” strong winds not usually shown on the GRIB files. Finally, fronts bringing 30-40 knots of wind roll across the top of New Zealand from the west every three or four days and you have to time your arrival in Opua just right to avoid getting caught in one of those.

The good news is these fronts are less intense and frequent into November and so we wait out the month of October here in Tonga before we play our weather hand. But at the same time, since there’s nothing to do about it but “wait” it’s the perfect time to pick up an Eckhart Tolle book and practice enjoying the present moment.

We’re still in Tonga, after all, and this place is simply gorgeous. For the past week, we’ve been anchored off Vava’u’s easternmost island of Kenutu. It’s one in a chain of several small, narrow islands that are joined by a coral reef. Between the islands you can see the ocean swell crashing against the reef and even clear over the top of some of the smaller islands when it’s really running. Even though we can hear the thunderous roar of the surf from our cockpit, it’s like a tranquil lake in here as the swell doesn’t make it inside.

From the anchorage, we gaze at a classic palm-treed sandy beach but the ocean is tearing down the islands bit by bit on the rugged windward side. There are caves and blowholes and cliffs that the Kiwi’s insist on setting their climbing gear up on and sending their children on up. (My oldest too scrambled up in record time, in her Crocs and swimsuit no less. I think she’s going to do well in New Zealand). Which also means there have been lots of kids out here and the girls have both enjoying having loads of friend time, which can be very precious out here. Even though the calendar tells me Halloween is coming up, it’s spring here; the air and the water is warming up, we’re swimming and snorkeling every day, soaking up this tropical turquoise water and sun while we can.

Still, each morning we listen to Gulf Harbor Radio on the SSB for the current weather prognosis between us and NZ as well as reports from boats already heading that way. We’ve got a to-do list on a post-it note that we chip away on each day. But for most of the day, we try to forget all that and be present in the moment lazing around in tropical paradise.

Making Friends With Uncertainty

Family and friends keep asking what is next for us, when this jaunt across the Pacific comes to a halt in New Zealand sometime in the coming weeks. We keep saying we don’t know, which is exactly true.

Right now, there are a few things we know for sure however:

  1. Cyclone season is upon us soon and it’s time to get out of the way
  2. We are really, really, really anxious for a draft IPA, jeans, a hike in the woods (all equipped as I did buy bulk ammo online for safety), and a real supermarket
  3. Our cruising kitty is down to its final dregs and it’s time to go back to work for a while

For a couple of people who like to have at least the next few years of our life mapped out, that’s not much of a chart.

We have far more questions than answers: will we be able to find work in New Zealand and then get the proper visas? Will we like NZ enough to want to stay for a few years? Forever? Will NZ like us? What city will we be living in? How is Leah going to adjust to regular school after a year of free-roaming school? How will we adjust to wearing socks again? Having cell phones? Having bills? Will we want to return to the Northwest and if so do we want to sail back or sell the boat and fly ourselves home? If we sail back, can we swing by Mexico? (I really really want a taco.)

We’ve been around long enough to know that the answers to these questions will be sorted out in time. Decisions will be made for us, things will happen. And we’ll have to make some tough decisions, too. We haven’t always been comfortable with so much ambiguity about the future; in fact, a few years ago we would have been a nervous wreck with so much uncertainty ahead. But now it feels rather invigorating, exciting even, at the unknown adventure that lies ahead, still.

Maybe it’s because we’re getting older and hopefully a little wiser. But I like to think that cruising has shown us how to be flexible, to go into the unknown without expectation and with an openness for whatever happens next. Most importantly, having faith that everything will turn out all right.

There is another thing we know and it actually surprises us a little, after being so positive a few months ago that we’d have had our fill of sailing after all these miles. We’ve been here in Tonga, spending a lot of time looking back over the past 16 months kind of disbelieving that we are practically at the end of this journey already. We’ve enjoyed the introspection that comes with being perched on the brink of the unknown. I thought for sure I’d be done with this ocean sailing traveling thing by the time we got here. But our quiet time in Tonga, with so much more of the world to see (Fiji! Vanuatu! Thailand!) just over the horizon has shown us that we haven’t got our fill at all.

Maybe what little we do know for certain is enough: that with a few more coins in our pocket, we could keep going and going and going.