THE PIED PIPER

We are leaving Fulaga for it’s sister island, Ogea. It’s six nautical miles to the southeast, beyond that you fall off the waters edge and into Tonga. We haven’t seen my friends in two days. The ferry from Suva came with dozens of distant relatives and everybody is fishing frantically to feed the extra mouths. …

SEA CHANGE

With the mainsail busted and the air sucked dry of wind, the rest of our journey across the Bligh is a limp on an iron leg. We putter up to the uninhabited island of Yadua long after sunset. We don’t have any tracks for the pass, or cell service, and my calls on the VHF …

SPLIT INTO SKY

The Navandra anchorage is so rock and roll that it’ll make you throw up your Fruit Loops. Everybody’s leaving. The pirates and their Jolly Rogers are long gone on the horizon and I’m getting towed back to civilization by Zephyr. That catamaran is always doing something real nice for me. They gave me the power …

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