Tuesday, August 26, 2014

On to the Commonwealth



My original hope when I found myself tramping through Southeast Asia was to pick up some kind of work or play enough music to make my way to the Himalaya and spend some proper time exploring Nepal and Tibet. It soon became apparent that wasn’t very feasible and I needed to find a place nearby where I could pull together some funds to keep the travels going.



After a little research, I was surprised to discover that I could fly to Australia for just over $100 on Air Malaysia from Kuala Lampur. The fact that an Air Malaysian flight had just disappeared in the South Indian Ocean may have had something to do with the low cost. Since I wasn’t paying for accommodations except buying food and supplies to share with my adoptive family at the Bangkok Democratic Reform protests, I slowly made enough by busking to take a train to Malaysia and fly from there to Oz.

 Western Australia is one of the most affluent regions in the world, and also one of the most expensive. Perth is notoriously more costly than even New York or Paris, but I figured it would beat roaming the streets of Bangkok by a long shot. Stepping off the plane I had no idea where I was going to stay, knew no one in the area, and barely had the resources to buy a hamburger, let alone pay for a place to sleep. I was unable to procure a working visa, as my arrival was so spontanious. It’s amazing they let me into the country at all.

The customs lady looked down her nose at me and my violin in its battered case and asked me if I planned on busking.

“Naw, of course not, it’s just for jamming and such.”

I took a bus to Freemantle, slept on the beach and the next day pulled out my violin and played away for much of the day outside an outdoor goods store. In a matter of hours I made more than I would in a solid week in Bangkok.

And so over the following couple months I played in the streets of Australia, and slept on her beaches (always expecting to get woken up by a poisonous spider or snake) until I met a lady who was kind enough to let me stay in her shop. The hospitality of many people in Australia (and the rest of the world for that matter) gives one hope for humanity.  

Of course, there was plenty of hostility. In the US, there is a subculture of vagabonds and gypsies, and in most places one can take refuge from all the hate and judgment by seeking companionship with fellow travelers. There are plenty of crusty shitheads and bums out there, but there’s lots of interesting, intelligent folk who choose a simpler way of life as well. What you don’t hear about life on the streets is the kindness from one traveler to another, folks who would literally give you the shirt off their back.

I find it quite interesting that many people who take so much pride in accepting all manner of people, of different backgrounds, ethniticities and sexual orientations, kick dirt in the face of the homeless. After all, not everyone sitting on the sidewalk is there due to laziness or drinking too much mouthwash.

In my antipodal travels, I didn’t find many others living the same way. Plenty of backpackers, but they would stay each night in a cozy hostel, and dine at upscale restaurants and bars. You either had money, or you were a bum. I was saving every dime I could to get home, and hostels were out of the question.

Anyway, I experienced a very different side of down under until I had the opportunity to join the  latest sailing delivery from Hawaii to Washington (crossing #5 with my friend Brian Calwell), which brought me back home.

I’m now in a very different part of the commonwealth, anchored out off of Nanaimo on the south coast of British Columbia. I’m a relatively short sail from Desolation Sound, one of the most beautiful cruising grounds in the world. I’ve lived for the past nine days of leftover canned food from my last Pacific crossing, my speakers, depth sounder, GPS and various other electronics on the boat need repair, and I’m more content than I’ve been in ages. From here I sail north.

How far? That is up to the wind.


Thursday, August 14, 2014

SV Ocean Star---Oahu to Washington State

Here's a few pics from my most recent crossing from Hawaii to Washington State, on board the 45 foot Cape George Cutter one off vessel, Ocean Star. The passage took just 15 days which is quite respectable time with great company, favorable weather, and a perfect end destination---Center Island in the San Juans. 






Thursday, August 7, 2014

Back in the land of "Normal"

It's now been well over two months that I've been back in the United States after another interesting run in the eastern hemisphere. Last time it was a journey into a post disaster zone with a predetermined goal to see what I could do to make a difference following the devastating effects of Super Typhoon Hayan. For me it was the prefect undertaking; to venture at the last minute to a country I knew little about in order to get off the couch and try to help people less fortunate than myself find solutions to their crises.

I didn't know what to expect (except I envisioned myself running through a survival situation, plucking children out from under the rubble and such...). Of course, that image was far from reality, but I was lucky enough that the one organization I was accepted by was All Hands Volunteers, who not only were willing to do the dirty work that many other aid groups avoid, but were also a hell of a lot of fun to work for. After less than a month of the most rewarding work of my life, I was ready to get back out there any way I could.

The second trip to the East was slightly less exciting, crewing for a 76 year old boat owner from Georgia who needed his yacht delivered back to the states. I could go into details but I will refrain to prevent you from destroying your computer in sheer disgust. In any case I either had a position on a yacht that was likely to meet Davy Jones at the bottom of the sea, or I would have to decide to take a big leap of faith and try my hand at experiencing being homeless in Asia. After 9 days, a near fatal run in with a fishing vessel, and many other shipboard disasters the decision was made for me.

Of course, I needed to figure out how to survive in such an alien and fascinating part of the world with hardly a dime to my name. First I posted up with the Buddhists to practice the art of Vipassana for 10 days. Ten very-long-and-challenging- days I must say. But I learned a lot and like to think that ultimately it helped me to grow in some ways rather than to become totally whack in the head.


The following months had a lot of sleeping in the open, a lot of eating groundscored rice, and a lot of busking in the streets. After a week long stint as the only foreigner at the Democratic Reform Movement in Bangkok, eventually I made enough money playing in the streets to buy a ticket to Australia, where I hoped my prospects would be better...but that's for the next story.

Coming soon to a blog near you.