Sailing De Novo

  'Ia ora na friends and family, Mauruuru for your patience. My (Denise’s) computer broke recently, and we decided to wait until we were in a place that could fix or replace it rather than try to write any posts on my phone–a task that would have taken more than a few night watches.  So the post here means our sailing season just ended, and we’re finally back in the crisp, cold Pacific Northwest. It’s cozy. No anchor to watch, no weather windows to obsess over, no hull to scrape. Just evergreen trees, time with loved ones, and the devastating and inescapable downward spiral of our democracy. Oh and Trader Joe's! Despite our excitement for supermarkets, returning to the States this time felt uneasy. I’m worried about the implications our political climate have on the future of our environment and our humanity; so recommitting to this blog and reliving the happy islands we visited pre-election is a form of therapy. I can pretend we’re still there and hopefully, if I explain it...

Dave in Taou Atoll, Tuamotus Ia ora na, family and friends,  Thank you for your patience. Little by little, we're catching up. Our last post was about the Marquesas Islands, and this one is about somewhere just as special: the Tuamotus. A land of turquoise waters and white sand beaches, the Tuamotus are paradise on earth.    If you’re unfamiliar with the Tuamotus, open a satellite map of French Polynesia. Among the deep ocean blues in the area, you’ll find a lighter band, almost like a scattering of stars, stretching from northwest to southeast. This is the Milky Way of Polynesia. As you zoom in, you’ll notice the cyan bursts aren’t stars but craters of fringed reefs. Each smaller reef island, or motu, makes ringed atolls which in turn, make up the Tuamotus ( Paʻumotu   for “distant islands"). The Tuamotus are old, even from a geological standpoint. At the height of their glory, each atoll was a towering volcanic island, much like Marquesas or Tahiti. In fact, volcan...