Tanna, a light at the end of the tunnel

It was a starry night, with many stars in the sky exactly as it was in moonless nights when we were sailing in this immense Pacific Ocean. We were coming in the pick-up truck jumping, shaking up and down like a young Kangaroo in its mother’s pouch. I can’t get kangaroos out of my mind; Oh, Australia, how I long to arrive at the planet’s largest island!  We will make it!
Maristela, Pepe and I are coming back from Yasur, the world’s second largest active volcano. We are in Tanna, an island in Vanuatu archipelago, a country that has the stigma of being home of the world’s happiest people. I was listening to music and questioning myself about happiness, about the entire journey trajectory, about people I love and remembering a phone call I had received a few days ago from Sao Paulo’s team. I was smiling inside.

The place is very simple; people live their own world, in a way of life the only worry is food. Should I call them poor? I don’t think so. Misery, never; rusticity, yes.  We should call them primitive, maybe. But, where do such joy, such happiness come from? 
We came to Tanna because everyone insisted we should visit the volcano Yasur and it was such an impressive experience we took the rough road two days in a row.  It takes two hours shaking in a 4x4 through a horrible non-paved road that cuts the island, up in the hills to go down in the other side, where the volcano valley is. On our way, we passed by small villages with houses made of straw. There is a lot of people living all over the inside part of the island. Here 25.000 people live, and what has impressed me most, since we arrived in Tanna, is the fact that everyone insists on waving, smiling at you.  I have already travelled a lot and I have never seen such a sweet, kind, smiling and happy people, from an old man to children, they all have the same attitude. I think it is a genetic mark. We, who live in large “civilized” urban centre, ask ourselves:   Where does happiness live? What do we need to be happy?

Well, well, in our immodesty, calling them primitives we embrace ignorance, as we are a bunch of unpleased ones, who looks in highly consuming and materialistic values for happiness. Years will go by and, maybe one day we will see how far we sent the wrong way. All we can do is to look at our own selves.

In the first visit to the volcano, I was anxious, as from what we saw in photos and heard in reports we would be able to come close a few metres from the crater edges and see the volcano in its activity. Years ago, I climbed the volcano Vila Rica, in Chile, and when I was in the summit I leaned over the crater. There I saw that incandescent cauldron in activity, it was unforgettable, but, here, was unrivalled.  When, from the road, we spotted the volcano far away in the other side of the valley, we could see an enormous smoke cloud going up and, from time to time, there was another explosion and more smoke. After one hour, our truck arrived to the volcano and there were another four cars with more visitors. As soon as we get out of the car, it was already late afternoon, the guides gave us spotlights and jackets. It was very cold and the wind was unusual for such latitude.  

We climbed the slope and, as we got to the summit, we were surprised by a big explosion. We saw, right in front of us, huge rocks of lava being spat up out, away from us.  The most of them would fall back to the crater slope, some would go further, but to the opposite side from where we were.  As it darkened, the spectacle was even more extraordinary, like fireworks in a New Year’s Eve night. The explosions made the ground tremble, with a loud and sharp noise, and sent an air gust on our face. It is difficult for me to describe what we saw, but I would recommend to everyone to see in Flickr the fantastic pictures taken by Maris. Also, Pepe has capture in video some images that will certainly impress everyone. We stayed there about one hour, watching a spectacle of orange incandescent rocks flying over our head, at a velocity of 300 km per hour.  We were so impressed that we decided to return the next day, facing another four hours of shaking in the small and sinuous road that cuts Tanna Island.

On day two, Yasur was very nervous and the explosions were much more violent and noisy. In one of them, a rock was thrown exactly into the path we had been trekking only 15 minutes before going up the volcano’s slope. That was enough… Scared, we beat a hasty retreat. We didn’t want to chance our luck, and after all we’d seen enough. It was something unforgettable, very powerful. The type of situation that gets you asking a few hours later: was that real?

Those days in Tanna were excellent for taking a break from the boat. As you’ve seen, we went through some extreme situations where we almost lost our beloved Bye Bye Brasil. We managed to get here, but had lost confidence in the boat. “What should we do now?” was the question on our lips.  We spent our last days trying to find a solution for the end of our journey. The first idea was to end it in New Caledonia and to avoid a long crossing to Australia.  Mainly because at this time of year the predominant wind is south-easterly, and as this year the cold fronts are very strong, It’s difficult to find a six day period with calm seas. Bye Bye Brasil wouldn’t stand it.

To end our trip in New Caledonia would represent more than 90% of the crossing; but it would leave a bitter taste in the mouth forever, and, for us, the journey would be remembered as something incomplete. However, why fight common sense; against everything which had always guided our decisions? It was then that the idea to head north came up; to look for more favourable winds and, later, sailing West, we could arrive in the Solomon Islands, a group of islands close to Papua New Guinea, already almost North of Australia.  Thus, we would have crossed the entire Pacific, and, in longitudinal terms, we would have accomplished our objective. We started to look for information about the Solomon Islands and the news was not very cheery…  It is said it isn’t a very safe place; where there is widespread bureaucracy and only a few options to stop. 

Igor insisted in saying that he had a strange feeling about the boat, that something could happen on a long leg, but that he felt more comfortable sailing up to Solomon. I was divided because I didn’t want to end the journey like that, but I also trust my intuition and I also trust Igor. By the way, we get along so well that we have never had any falling out over any decision.  We have a very similar style in facing difficult moments, we are both very conservative. We both ended up deciding to fix the boat, replace the bolts and continue our journey northwards.

We finally managed to lift the boat out of the water last Thursday, July 31st.  This delay was because the only place in Port Vila capable of doing this had a broken tractor. The minute we got the catamaran out of the water we started disassembling it. Three hours later, Igor managed to remove the broken bolt from inside the hull and, if all went well with the repairs, the Bye Bye Brasil could be back at sea within three days. 

We returned to the hotel exhausted and we fell into bed, because we had an early start the next day. My feeling about the decision we had taken was still causing me great anguish, but I couldn’t go against my principles. If I had taken thoughtless decisions in the past, I certainly wouldn’t have completed any of the previous five journeys. So really what we do is administer the risks and to go to Australia now would be taking a very big risk. There is no doubt that we could arrive, but we may also need to call in rescue and maybe abandon the ship in the sea. The loss of a rescue would much greater than ending the journey on the Solomon Islands.

At that time I realized that great friends make the difference, and that a team of conscientious people can brighten things up. I was sleeping, but in Brazil a meeting was taking place between Dega and Elton, the project’s coordinators, Dudu, the film’s director and owner of the production company ST 2, Doro, media relation man, and Mark and Aluisio, both from Matos Grey, the agency that takes care of the trip’s communication and my career. Among this group of friends, there were two sailors; one of them, Mark, had spent two years sailing with his family in this same region. They called me at dawn and, by telephone, everyone let me know that they would support me in whatever decision I made, that they were on my side, however they suggested a new alternative trip: to halt the project now, make a detailed revision on board and wait until October; when the weather patterns become more suitable, calmer winds and everything is more stable. We are in winter now and the cold fronts are at their peek of activity. Last week there were winds up to 170 kilometres per hour in New Zealand, and the fronts reached New Caledonia three times, something that hasn’t happened for a long time. I thought the idea was very reasonable because, apart from everything, Igor and I were deeply immersed in these last events and it was therefore difficult to make a decision. I woke Igor up and told him the new idea, to which he reacted negatively, as in September he restarts his last year of Engineering in Lyon, France. 

The next day, very early, we returned to the boat to start assembling her now that we had the new bolts.  Our lack of confidence regarding the boat stemmed from the following:  twice she had sailed many miles without a screw, working the wrong way; the last time she even sailed with a front beam loose and the hulls out of alignment.  This could have affected the structure of the boat. Something worse could have happened without any warning.  So when we started to work on the cross beams, Igor noticed the start of a tear, almost unnoticeable to the naked eye, exactly on the opposite side of where it broke when we arrived in Mangareva, last year. So to make a long story short:  the cross beam could break even if we sailed to the Solomon Islands. So the decision was made: we will stop our journey to repair the cross beam, the same thing we did in French Polynesia and, in two months, we will return to Vanuatu.

We were very happy to discover the tear as we were able to prevent the rupture. Not that I don’t want to sail right now, but, at the end, I considered two opinions, Igor and my discomfort and the situation of the people back in Brazil. 

It was also very important to have received a call from Stefan, a long time friend and president of Red Bull. He gave us his full support for whichever decision we took, however, he asked us to analyse all options. It was also good to get support from another friend, Fabio Boucinhas, from Yahoo Brazil, who, as a sailor, also perfectly understands what we are going through.

So Australia still lives on in our heart, we are not giving up and we will do anything we can to arrive where we said we would. A journey such as this one shows clearly how difficult it is to move along this narrow line that separates responsibility from bravery, intuition from desire. Once again we experienced what it is like to be humble and recognize our limits, like a mountaineer who turns back before reaching the top to make it back home alive. Fortunately we haven’t run out of opportunities yet.  I feel relieved and free. We will return and give it our all to reach Australia. That’s the promise I have made to myself and to all who are pulling for us. 

I want to note here that soon I hope to shout "Land ho!  Australia!", and give my great buddy Igor a big hug.

Vanuatu

Hi, you all. It's been nearly a week we are here in Port Vila. As incredible as it may sound, yet we haven’t fully recovered…I think it is more a question of state of mind than physical, although Maris had a disapproval look in our arrival when she saw us quite slim.  We have already tour the island and what have most surprised us are the people. We didn’t meet anyone that would not say hi or waved at us!
After two days eating and sleeping, we went back to the boat to evaluate all, to think over possible solutions. To extract the bolt pieces that are inside the hull, we need to dismount the boat, which means taking her out of the water. The sole boatyard in the area that is able to take us out of the water won’t be free before Monday. We have already taken the mast out in order to gain time, but it is impossible to establish a schedule now, because we can’t know the extent of the damage before dismounting the boat.  No matter the repair, the boat will never be as strong as she was, after having worked on the edge for two days. This must have undermined the boat as a whole.
Sometimes I wonder whether it is safe for us to sail in open ocean with a boat in such conditions. For this reason, we decided to repair in the best way possible and go to New Caledonia, close to here, and, there, evaluate whether the boat will be able to go on taking us safely. I have been thinking over our situation with Pierre, because we know now that the boat can't stand bad weather any longer. We have a nearly 800 miles leg from NC to Australia and we all know it is not easy to have 6 days in a row of moderate and favourable winds.
I keep remembering the night before we've got here, when we decided to get the life raft ready. To do it is an experience I wish to no one, it is something that makes you really understand that, maybe, the situation went too far. Fortunately, we didn’t have to use it, but how long we will be that luck? 
What do YOU think???
A Hug to you all

On the razor's edge

My friends, my dear friends, this time we were really very close to see the boat  go down the drain…

You may be asking: Hey, those two nuts, shouldn’t they be in Île des Pins, New Caledonia? How come they went up in Vanuatu, as Maristela wrote?

As I was saying in my last writing, we were facing head wind and a beam sea. The boat was jumping a lot, waves were growing and breaking on the side of the boat, stressing her, and she was working in a way that worried me. Well, when there were just two days left before arriving in New Caledonia, the front beam bolt broke once again and left a single bolt holding one of the hulls, in a sea that was getting worst.  Soon, we realized the boat couldn’t go on sailing in that direction, so we consulted the map in our notebook and looked for a place to stop keeping that sailing angle, with tail wind.  The only option was Port Vila, in Vanuatu.  Well, good thing we had a land in the path which was our only option… But it was 250 long miles away… Two days in slow, but safe pace.

We lowered the sails and started sailing towards here, without knowing anything about such a remote place. Maris and Debora, my wife, were about to leave Sao Paulo to meet us in New Caledonia when they were told about the change. After so many breakages, bad weather, schedules changed due to bureaucratic requirements, the journey was facing another delay, what a fate! Who knows? It may be a sign to avoid even worst situations, but the fact is we were down and very unconfident in relation the boat. 

During the night, we let Bye Bye Brasil go quite slow, with little sail.  I had one of the journey’s worst nights, because I knew if the other bolt would break we would be in a high risk situation, with chances of losing the boat. I stayed under my tent hearing a lot of noises, creating others and imagining what would be like to loose the boat.

Next day, the wind increased a bit and so did the sea, forcing us to sail on one board with a sea coming from the side. It was at this moment an enormous wave broke at Bye Bye Brasil, making a huge noise. I felt immediately the boat becoming loose, all ropes that support the mast loosed and Igor jumped to see what had happened to the front beam. The other bolt was broken as well and the beam slid aside about 20 centimetres. The boat was held together only by the spectra rope and, at any moment, it could topple all together.  Quickly, Igor tied a rope in the front stay in order to increase tension. We lowered the sails, took the jib down and wait for the worst, as we still had to sail more than 100 miles to get there. 

Afternoon went by slowly and when began getting dark we really got ourselves ready for the worst: a rescue call, in case all broke down. We took the life raft out and prepare all emergency equipment to be on hand.

At night, we were on duty, with flashlights at hand, checking the other bolts still holding the front beam’s opposite side. Noises were terrifying, each time there came up a different noise, or at least it sounded different, a macabre symphony. The mind struggled to make room for the worst and, in the other hand, to believe it would be possible to get to Port Vila. 

Fortunately, both came down, wind and sea, letting us hopeful.  We could make it if the wind would not increase. And it happened: around 10 o’clock in the morning we spotted the island. We arrived at 16:00 h under shower rain, pulled by an American sailing boat which was entering the Port Vila Bay. Happy and relieved, we manage to save the boat. Double happiness, as I met my wife and Maris, who arrived at the same time we did.  We fulfilled all the requirements and parked the catamaran in the Yacht Club.

Those were the worst moments of my life in a boat. We were never in life risk, but the boat came very close; it is a miracle we have her here. Now we have a great challenge ahead: to fix Bye Bye Brasil and get back to our journey to Australia. 

I will be back soon to tell you about what happens here. I am sorry for taking so long to give some news, but I was in need of 48 hours doing nothing, just relaxing.

A hug,