• Stargazer
• Lightspeed
• Orinicus
• Papillion
• Wind Spirit
• Wings
• Entre Nous
• Seychelles
• Three Sheets
• Charisma
• Endeavor
• Snug Harbor
• Convivia
• Last Resort
• Damiana
• Jennifer
• Realtime
• Drei
• Buena Vida
• Sojourn
• Murmar’s Dream
• Sundance
• NatutiMoments
• Destiny
• Cat2Fold
• Diamond Girl

More to come as I slack off and scour Google for links. If only the Ha Ha would put the links on their roster!

There have been some changes since I left. The most significant being the economy. People thought I was crazy for quitting a job to go travel at a time when jobs were hard to come by. It probably was crazy, but even now, even with an uncertain prospects, I still don’t regret what I did or seek sympathy for my current disposition. I still think that tough times is a good time to travel; a good time to spend, that is, if you have the money to spend. Working these days gets you less and spending gets you more. I’ve noticed that people have cut back going out. Drink fewer drinks when they do go out and order the cheaper plates. People share more–I actually gave a couple I found on Craigslist rideshare a lift to and from San Francisco in my mom’s van when I was dropping off stuff. It was cheaper for them than taking the train, I got some gas money, company on the ride and some help carrying boxes upstairs.

I missed the Obama election and inauguration. Throughout my trip people were always asking me what it was like with Obama in office and I told them I didn’t know; when I left Dubya was still in office. I did, however, vote at city hall before I left. I remember I was on the way to Cabo when I heard, over VHF, for sure that Obama won “by a landslide.” And I watched a part of the inauguration at Tequila Beach in Mahahual. Mike, the Canadian dude on my last boat, told me about “beergate”. I didn’t stay informed about current events while I was gone. Obama and Michael Jackson was the only news I got.

In San Francisco the monthly bus passes have gone from $40 to $55. A ride from $1.50 to $2.00. The cops are cracking down on the revelry that goes on at Dolores Park. No more drinking there, supposedly, I haven’t been back there yet. At Bigfoot they no longer light the bar on fire. At Whiskey Thieves you’re no longer allowed to smoke inside.

I noticed that all my friends look and act a bit older. We’re entering Middle Age. Two couples I know got engaged. Another friend was promoted to a position where she now hires and fires people. My little brother is not so little anymore. I didn’t recognize his voice on the phone and he’s getting to be as tall as I am. He’s now a freshman at Jesuit High School. I’m sure when I see him again in a month or so, I won’t recognize him all over again.

And I’ve changed too. I’d say the best lesson I learned on my trip was patience. All I had on the boat was time. Even as slow as we were sailing, we were still always going somewhere, still making progress. As long as you’re not stagnant and working towards something, no matter how slow, I feel like you’ll get there one day. And your speed doesn’t matter, what matters is whether you eventually get there or not. In fact, “the journey is the destination” and “wanting is better than having” because as soon as you arrive at your goal, you will always ask yourself, “what’s next?”

I learned to be more self-sufficient. Not that I wasn’t before, I just got more practice doing it. Finding my way around strange towns. Speaking to people in foreign tongues. Cooking my own food from scratch. Mending my clothes. Making quick friends. Without the Internet, I discovered that my memory is really shit. There’s no use for memory when everything you’d want to know you can look up online. I forgot addresses, dates, phone numbers, people’s names. Was this done before cellphones and the Internet? I can’t remember.

All in all it was an amazing trip. I’d definitely like to do it again. Maybe next time I can get paid. I’m thinking it would be cool to pick up where I left off and sail from Australia to South Africa or the Med.  Then another time from there to Panama, making it all the way around the world, albeit in pieces.

But enough of that airline bullshit; the fact of the matter is I got back home. I got through customs quick enough in LA to hop on an earlier flight to SF. I had just barely made the earlier flight that I didn’t have time to call my brother and let him know. (My phone is still deactivated, that’s a whole’nother story.) I figured that I would just BART to Civic Center and my brother could pick me up from there. And he did. I called him from SFO and told him I’d rather ride BART (for nostalgia’s sake) than wait at the airport for him to pick me up.

Pat picked me up in front of the Civic Center Burger King and took me back to his place, which is soon to be my place. He’s leaving on his own trip and I’m moving into his apartment. He’s slowly been moving his stuff into our storage unit (mom’s garage) and bringing my stuff back. He told me that Kelly was going to be coming over later to grab a few beers. I thought about calling some more people, but my phone was still deactivated and figured I’d just wait until Kelly got here to do some recruiting. Kelly arrived and we all went downstairs. I was looking for Kelly’s car and he was walking up to the passenger side of a bus that was idling in front of the building. “Let’s check this out,” he said. “What on earth are you doing?” I was thinking. “Come on,” he encouraged. As I followed him I started to realize the surprise. Inside the bus were a lot of people that I’ve been longing to see and missing for the past 10 months. I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face as I went around saying all my hellos. I guess the plan was to pick me up in the airport in that bus and that I had ruined it by coming home early. I contended that I didn’t ruin anything; I was just as surprised and at least I got to take a shower and put on clothes that weren’t 8 months worn.

The bus took us to Zeitgeist, where we undoubtedly got shit for arriving in a party bus. “We usually don’t allow party busses…” the bouncer complained. But she let us in. After arguing our way in, I realized I didn’t have identification; I left my passport at home and didn’t have a driver’s license. This, of course, isn’t a problem anywhere except the United States. But the bouncer was cool and let me in. After Zeitgeist we told the driver to take us up to Twin Peaks because the bus was apparently too long for Lombard Street or Coit Tower. Next stop was Bigfoot Lodge which didn’t let me in. I was a little disappointed because the bouncer who worked there before I left always recognized me. So we walked a couple blocks to Shanghai Kelly’s, no questions asked. By this point there were only four of us and we were shit-faced. I woke up the next morning on my brother’s couch, in my new apartment, with my contacts still in, something I never do despite how drunk I get.

The next morning, Pat, his girlfriend and I were up early to drive to Sacramento to prepare for a “Goodbye Pat & Ashley-Welcome Back Sean” party at my mom’s house. Well, it was an originally a “Goodbye” party but then I decided that I wanted to attend, thereby making it my welcoming party too. On the way home I got to see my old next door neighbor, Ben the chef, when we stopped to pick up marinated tri-tips and chicken at his restaurant. Next I saw my good friend Alex who came by early to help set up. He made a delicious 7-layer dip and guacamole. Also driving up were some Santa Barbara friends.

Slowly the guests started arriving and I started schmoozing. I really hate hosting parties because I feel obligated to talk to everyone and I also feel like the conversations never sink to deep. It’s all small talk, chit-chat. I also ended up explaining the same thing over and over again. Throwing parties in college was fun. Step 1) buy a keg. Step 2) call your immediate friends to spread the word. That’s it. That’s all we basically had to do to have a rager. Sometimes we’d make mix CDs, but that wasn’t mandatory. Adult parties are much more taxing, both in preparation and execution. So, even though I got to see a lot of people at the party, I’d still like to sit down with each of them one-on-one and find out how they’re really doing.

The next day, after cleaning up, we drove out to my dad’s house for a labor day pool party with his side of the family. Really just my Aunt (Dad’s sister) and her husband, two daughters, two sons-in-law and two twin grandsons. And as usual, my stepmom, sister, brother-in-law, brother, brother’s girlfrind and half-brother. We swam, BBQed, drank beer and updated everyone with our goings-on. By the end of it all I was in napping in the extra bedroom because I hadn’t a break since I was on Adam’s graveyard shift radio show in Melbourne.

Sunday and Monday I finally got some rest. I helped Pat & Ashley wrap up all the loose ends before they drove to LA to leave on their trip. Tuesday I finally got my phone turned on (after paying AT&T twice!) and while at the mall I stopped in and had lunch with Ben at his restaurant, which was good because I barely got to see him at the party with him being busy cooking and me being busy schmoozing.

Tuesday I decided to leave for SF, knowing I’d be back in Sacramento the next weekend to return my mom’s car, which she loaned me. Now I’m working on a contract gig I set up on Monday, settling into my apartment, reconnecting with friends and old coworkers and applying for more jobs. The contract gig could well become a full-time thing if they like the likes of me.

I figure I’ll make one more post, a retrospective of my trip, once I organize all my thoughts. Then I’ll leave Sailust.com to rest forever on the infinite shelves of the Internet.

I decided to fly from Brisbane to Melbourne; it just made more sense. Beacho convinced me that I wouldn’t be missing much by traveling over land and this way I’d get to see more of Melbourne. Sydney is expensive, he said. I’m staying at his place on Separation Street, in the Northcote neighborhood, with his bandmates and his girlfriend. I parted with Mike and Vick on Island Buoy and left them to transport the boat from Brisbane down to the Gold Coast. We spent our last day together cleaning the boat from bow to stern. Mike got a working visa is going to look for employment in Oz before he gets on another boat heading west. Vick’s plan is to stay with his dad around Brisbane and eventually return to South Africa.

Beacho’s had a pretty tight schedule but he’s been making time to show me around. I don’t mind because I just wanted to see him and how better to see him than in his everyday element? He’s been going to the gym in the morning, then practicing piano, then teaching guitar. In between he’s been working on his upcoming solo tour, booking shows and making posters. He’s always been disciplined about his music. I’ve been looking for jobs and revamping his website. Although I missed his Brisbane show (by one day!), I was lucky enough to catch Electric Jellyfish’s last show last Saturday in Melbourne. He also took me to the Northcote Social Club where Adam, the bassist, works and Hayden used to work before he passed. On Monday morning, Linda, his girlfriend, and he took me to see Bridget and Hayden’s memorial bench in the Royal Botanical Gardens. Afterwards we checked out the Salvador Dali exhibit at the National Victory Gallery. Last night we went to a pub quiz and I won a free jug (that’s Australian for pitcher) of beer for guessing correctly that Honolulu is the only US city with a Royal Palace.

I’ve also been hanging out with Andrea, an Aussie girl I meet in Mexico with Canice with whom I’ve stayed in contact. She’s been excited to show me around Melbourne, which is good because that means Beacho doesn’t have to play full time tour guide for me. She’s relatively new to the city, too. She showed me around downtown and took me to the restaurant where she works and her local neighborhood pub. Bars and restaurants, she says, this is what we do in Melbourne. You’re getting the real Melbourne experience. I’m fine with that I said, I don’t feel the need to touristy stuff just because. It’s what we do in San Francisco. I just like to have a good time. The best way to see a place is by visiting someone who lives there.

Tonight is my last night in Oz. I’m going to go with Beacho downtown and meet up with Andrea at her bar after she gets off work. My flight leaves Melbourne at 3:00. It goes to Sydney then I hop on another plane for a 13 hour flight to LA. Then I go from LAX to SFO, landing at 10pm. Since I’m crossing the International Date Line, I arrive in California the same day that I leave.

I’m looking forward to seeing all my friends and family at home.

Will update more about the trip over and photos sometime in the future (hopefully).

Island Buoy is a delivery job. She’s a 30 ft Rayvin catamaran, much shorter than Crystal Blue Persuasion. The skipper is a young South African and the crew member a Canadian. They seem like a fun bunch.

Bringing my trip to a close, I’ve been taking a look at airfare home. I originally intended to use credit from Hawaiian Airlines flight that I booked last year from San Francisco to the Philippines. The ticket I purchased to the Philippines was because I originally intended to start my journey there. When that plan fell through, I canceled the ticket and found that it was neither transferable or refundable. Oh well, I thought, I can just use the credit to fly home from Australia. Not so. As it turns out, the credit is only good between Manila and San Francisco. And I still have to pay a $200 booking fee. This is what happens when you don’t read the fine print. I just took a look at flights from Melbourne to Manila, and it looks like it will still be cheaper for me to fly to Manila in order to use my Hawaiian Airlines credit. But it’s going to be a flying hell. My flight from Melbourne to Manila will have a stop-over in Kuala Lumpar and my flight from Manila to San Francisco will have a stop-over in Honolulu. Is it really worth the distress to save say $500? Should I forget my credit and fly non-stop Melbourne to San Francisco? I haven’t bought my ticket yet because I don’t have my credit card on me, so it’s still up in the air, but I’m probably going to go the cheap route.

It’s about 1500 nautical miles from Denarau to Brisbane and the skipper estimates it will take about 2 weeks. With luck, I’ll be able to meet the Electric Jellyfish on tour in Brisbane. They are the friends that I wanted to visit in Melbourne anyway.

I’ve been enjoying my last days in Suva with my old crew mates Tom and Jan. We’ve hardly left the yacht club because it’s got all the entertainment we like (and jugs of beer are only $5). There are no hard feelings between us. Tom’s looking for crew, but if he doesn’t find any, him and Jan are perfectly capable of sailing Marlin by themselves.

I’ll update everyone back home when I finally have my flight booked.

We started out beating upwind on port tack, wind from the southwest. By the time we arrived in Suva we were rockin’ and rollin’ with wind from behind, having to gyb the sails at the whimsical shifts of the wind. It was a fast leg and we averaged close to six knots the whole time. We crossed the 180 line of longitude, which is the theoretical International Date Line, half way across the world from Greenwich, England. Now our longitudes will be “E” for East and counting down.

For the geographically challenged, you can check out the route to see where I am.

Right now I’m in Niuatoputapu, Tonga. The name means “forbidden coconut.” This is the least populated-populated island that we’ve been to, with about 1010 people living here. In fact, there was a death here the other day so I guess the population is now 1009. The island is far away from the other Tongan islands and on the way from Samoa to Fiji. An 8 person airplane stops once a week and a supply boat comes about once a month, weather depending.

It was a two day sail here and a little rough. After the first day we switched to two hour shifts. The wind was on our nose and the constant crashing of waves over the bow somehow found their way into my cabin, through a crack maybe, and half my bed was soaked, amongst some other books in my cabin. Everyone and everything survived and dried.

Like usual, we planned on staying here only 3 days, but because of imperfect weather we’ve been here for over a week now. On top of that, we lost a day because we finally crossed the International Date Line. The time is the same as in Samoa, but Tonga moved themselves to the other side of the Date Line before the last millennium so that they could claim their kingdom as “the land where time begins.” (Samoa is UTC -11 and Tonga is UTC +13.)

The first night here we went to a potluck then watched a traditional dance recital at the primary school.

One day we hiked up to the summit of the island with another boat, Drina from Sydney, and took some photos.

When we’re exceptionally bored, we walk to the Palm Tree Island Resort. That’s the only hotel on the island. They have some cold beer. As you can imagine, there were no guests at the time. But Laura, the proprietor, has two couples arriving next week. There is a party there this evening that should be composed of the 4 other yachts anchored here. The hotel is actually separated from the main island by a lagoon so we can walk there at low tide or take the dinghy at high tide.

We were going to leave for Fiji (Suva) this morning, but the wind was too much, so hopefully we’ll leave tomorrow. One day, I’ll make it to Australia. Slowly, but surely.

The “deserted” island we went to was Suwarrow. It’s a national park of the Cook Islands. There was one family that lives there as caretakers for 8 months out of the year. There were also anywhere from 5 to 7 boats anchored there. The first night we arrived, there was a BBQ amongst all the boats on shore. We passed the days snorkeling and fishing, usually unsuccessfully. When it wasn’t too windy we tried trolling in the dinghy. Otherwise we fished off the boat. There were plenty of sharks in the lagoon, about the length of my arm. Sometimes we caught them fishing, other times they would steal our fish before we could reel them in.

Three boats left Suwarrow at the same time, headed for Apia, Samoa. It took us 4 days. By the first night on sea, we were no longer in eyesight of each other but we all ended up getting into Apia the same day, within 5 hours. Arriving on a Sunday, we weren’t allowed to leave the marina until we were checked into the country, which would have to be done on Monday. Luckily, Radek, a Czech guy from another boat, managed to sneak out and smuggle in some beers for the night. We had spent the previous 20 days sailing and on Suwarrow completely dry, as in no alcohol, so we were extremely eager to wet our whistles. In fact, our whistles have been well wetted every night since.

So far, the highlight of Samoa has been our hitch-hiking out to the east coast and staying at the Taufua Beach Fales. “Fale” is a Samoan beach hut. The huts were nice enough; it was the hitch-hiking that was the highlight. A great way to see the countryside and meet the people. Everyone here has been really friendly and we had no troubles getting rides. I can safely say that Samoa has been my favorite place since I left Ecuador.

Now it looks like we will be leaving on Monday for Fiji. Maybe Wednesday. Who knows?

P.S. Here are photos from Samoa