The Native Iowan

There is a certain type of tired that comes after a couple of days of adventure, No matter sea or flatland or mountains or rolling plains, if you go out a’venturing for any appreciable time you come home exhausted.

But, once again, the Arnavons do impress…

Lets see… Its right on noon, Thursday the 8th. We took off from Gizo 6pm Monday the 5th. I may not make it far with this edition of “fools in paradise”. Am floaty like you get after a prolonged period at sea. My equilibrium is still swaying to the rhythm of the briny-blue. My muscles are sore to wore-out from the unaccustomed use n abuse. My skin is shiny n soft from the days drenched in seasalt. As I write I am feeling my eyes droop and my head nod. My fingers are not very cooperative.

I am dead tired. I doubt I’ll get this posted today. Once I go down I shall probably not wake for a number of hours. And I do look forward to it. But there is a problem…

My bunk, all the bunks n benches onboard, have been tore up. We covered everything with salt n grime during the journey so I insisted on cleaning before anything else. Abraham wasn’t too happy at first but now, after it’s all done, he gets the picture. I shall lay a sheet on the cushions and crash out very soon. I helped him make his bunk so he can crash when he is ready.

I have been back in Gizo since 6am. We had ICE safely tied up and hooked to shore power, with aircons running by 630am. By 7am we were at San Bis for eggsnbacon. By 8 Abraham and I were back hosing the boat down and cleaning the interior. It is amazing how dirty your gear gets when used and abused for a couple of days running.

I tore all the sheets and seat covers off, got my few days of dirty clothes (plus Aba’s) all bundled n ready to run up the hill to the house. I wiped all the interior decks n tables n handholds down. Abraham swabbed the exterior decks and rails and windows. By 11 we were running up the hill where we dropped the clothes off to be washed and had long nice hot showers that felt grand. I played with gorgeousgrannygirls Dawn and Vera a bit then came home before I nodded off.

All in all it does not really sound like much, this lil voyage we just did. It does not sound like much does it? Only 60 hours or 2.5 days…

Monday eve we headed north-northwest, along the west side of Kolombangara. Onboard we had Hans, Proprietor of San Bis resort, long time brother and adventuring buddy. His mate, Goran, an Aussie immigrant from the Bosnian wars. My 18yr old grandson, Abraham, and myself.

As one does, whilst packing the Winnebago, we loaded way too much. One would have thought we were off for weeks, not days. On board we had… 4doz eggs, 3 packs pasta, frozen home-made pasta sauce. 4 packs savoury crackers, a ctn of coke, sprite, fanta, 3 crates of solbrew, 4 packs UHT milk, instant and good coffee, 4 loaves bread, plus assorted condiments and munchie stuff.

We return home with the eggs, we gave most of the bread and some of the beer to the game wardens on the Island. Half the soft drinks came back, but not much beer.

Also we loaded fishing gear and 4 full sets of dive equipment. We ended up using neither.

Of course the departure night is always a party. We drank and laughed and took selfies and generally had a good time anticipating the fun and games to be had.

It was a beautiful eve to be heading-out.

I forgot to mention that we strapped a 21footlong alloy runabout with a 40hp engine to the davits on the stern of ICE. ICE is only 15footwide so the little boat stuck out some 6foot from the port side of ICE.

Between 6pm and maybe 1am all was rosy. Then we hit a strange swell, running NW to SE, but winds were blowing from SSE. It made for a sloppy sea which forced us to attempt adjustments on our davit system. Numerous times.

All was not rosy as we turned the deck lights on, manned the winches, and hassled with the dern alloy boat as it banged and slid n got slapped by waves. We eventually got it up out of the seas. Retied it with terrible knots we knew we’d have to cut to get undone. It was a chore. But then we don’t go to sea to be safe n sound n warm and dry.

Stay in bed if you want safe n sound n warm n dry. Not I, says the intrepid mariner. Not I!

It’s about here that my well-known propensity for seasickness got me good. I managed to help sort the boat out but as soon as we were in control I was down on the deck, flat on my back. I have learned that if I lie flat and press my back to any hard surface I can oft-times control my illness. I have heard that NASA dudes learned this in space, instead of taking dopy-drugs to ease the illness, you wedge your back into a tight, hard space, which supposedly settles your inner ear disturbance.

It worked a lil bit, but not 100%. I was a bit too far gone. But I delayed the inevitable RRRaulphing over the side by a few hours.

A funny thought… no matter what language you speak, no matter what accent you have, we all sound the same when we rrraulph.

So where are we? 1 – 2am. All drenched to the skin. Me lying flat behind the wheel house. Abraham down for a snooze. Hans and Goran standing watch.

I woke (came-to) about 4am. Goran was down snoozing and Hans was in command, noticeably fatigued. Things were a bit rocky but I got up and had a bottle of water n tried to maintain my weary innards. I think I even chugged a coke to put some calories in me.

Eventually Hans went down for a snooze. I sat at the helm and watched the GPS screen mark our slow progress. The sky was brightening and I had a horizon to try to fix my gaze upon. The seas were sloppy.

Somewhere along the line Goran came up. I gave him the chair and laid down on a bench in the wheelhouse. We chatted a bit. He dozed. The auto-pilot was working well so I watched the screen as the dark seas shook n bounced us about.

This is when I lost the plot… moving as quickly as the rolling deck allowed, I got to the side door only to find Goran had reclined the chair, I had to slip in past him, out the door and to the rail in order to feed the fishies. Goran woke as I jostled his chair while gagging back a big chunder. I made it to the rail and spent then next hour or so hanging over, initially spewing a nice bubbly-headed stream of easy on the throat vomit, which of course quickly became those terribly, gut wrenching dry heaves we all know and do not love.

When I got back in Goran gave me the chair ( I doubt he trusted me not to puke over his shoulder) so I alternated watching the helm and dry-heaving over the side. I moved the chair so my exit was easily negotiated.

Dawn was dawning as we pulled towards the western passage of the Manning Strait. We had to navigate through easy but shallowish waters so I gave Hans a hoy.

9am saw us arriving at the anchorage. By 930 we were anchor-down and engine-off, genset on and aircon blowing. We dropped the boat and the conservation officers from shore came out and had  a chat with us. We tidied up then hit the bunks.

I woke about 1. Goran was up. We hopped in the boat and went ashore.

I had forgotten how magnificent these islands are. The beach is the softest white-powder-sugar sand you’ll ever see. I wrote about the Arvavons many years ago… I’ll chase that tale down and tag it here when I find it.

I still stand by my original impressions and descriptions. It is a special place.

So we hung out, the boys went fishing but caught nothing,  then out to see the turtles hatch. I did little but swim in the clean, clean waters, marvel at my surroundings and enjoyed the beauty and serenity of this very special place.

After looking at weather reports and thinking clearly we decided to pull anchor a day early. So on Wednesday about noon we reslung the little boat. Much more securely than 1st time. And headed home.

It may sound foolish to do a run for so short a visit. And it probably is. But the main aim of this trip was to use ICE. I wanted to make sure the systems were up and running without fault. Wanted to proof the vessel, make sure all was A-OK.

And ICE performed like a champ. Never a hiccough or a cough. All was grand.

I slept most of that day, Wednesday. Came on watch about 10pm.

Entering a harbour at night is never easy. Entering a harbour lined with coral is dangerous. So we did it slow and easy. Lots of yelling an noise n miscommunication but thats par for the course.

And here I sit. The day after. I didn’t sleep a lot yesterday. Spent the eve with the babes on the hill, had a nice meal and read before sleep. Woke slow and sluggish this morn. My body aches, but in a good way. A boat makes you younger, stronger, better. The sea heals things. Clears the head. Invigorates the body.

Time to go get the laundry and put the boat back together before I fly off in the morn.

And life is grand,