This is a LONG overdue video upload from 2013. It's the only footage of Shan Skailyn's 7 day maiden voyage... the very end of it as we passed through Madang harbor and then later as we arrived at our intended destination. My camera was stolen, along with all the photos and video footage of the trip. But my friend drove out to Madang to capture some of this with his phone, and then later captured our arrival. I made the video soon after, but never uploaded it because we didn't have internet at the time. I'd since forgotten. Hence the late post!


Shan Skailyn arrival.mp4 from geoff husa on Vimeo.
This is a quick little snippet documenting our arrival after Shan Skailyn's 7 day maiden voyage 90 miles up the north coast of Papua New Guinea, from Saidor to Madang (March 2013). This is a boat I made from one of Gary Dierking's designs (the Wa'apa). It was a long, rough voyage with winds and currents working against us most of the way. My camera was stolen the last night, which is why this is the only footage of the entire trip! Thankful for my friend who drove out to Madang, to catch some footage with his phone from coastwatchers point and then from his house where we ended our voyage.

After more than 15 months, our family was finally able to get back out to Madang for a break. Of course, Shan Skailyn was out of storage and put to good use immediately. The seas were mostly flat and winds mild. But there were enough days with decent and even slightly stronger wind to get out there and have some fun. I compiled some video footage here.

This time out, I feel I was able to get my confidence up handling the boat by myself in some stronger, gustier winds. I'm feeling ready to start venturing out further next time, outside the relative safety of our little bay and the shelter of all the little islands. I'd love to start taking Shan Skailyn to some different nearby areas. There's even a little resort nearby (Jais Aben) I could sail to, enjoy a lunch, and sail back. How great would that be?!


Sailin' Shan Skailyn from geoff husa on Vimeo.

A note on a few things: If you remember, I chose to use bamboo for the spars, a decision I wasn't super confident on originally but tried just to see what would happen and how they would hold up. These spars have now been in use for about 2 years and have been through a lot, especially on the maiden voyage up the coast. Now, even after sitting in hot storage for over 15 months, they've held up very well. No bugs have gotten to them, I see no sign of deterioration, and that split that I repaired in initial construction has held up wonderfully. For any of you builders out there, I would highly recommend the use of bamboo if you have access to it.

I'm really pleased with how the rest of the hull and other elements have held up over time. I haven't had to do any fiberglass repairs yet on the bottom, though I do touch up the paint every time I'm packing Shan Skailyn up to put away again. Most of the need for touch up of paint though is my trailer. Seems that pulling Shan Skailyn up over carpet wears that paint right off.

To fix this I've ordered some flat rollers and steel rod to install on Shan Skailyn's trailer. Each flat roller is 2.5" diameter and rubber. The plan is to cut the rollers into 3" or 4" lengths and span them across as evenly as possible in four places in the lower half of the trailer where most of the boat weight sits, especially when hauling out of the water. I'm hoping the rubber and the quantity of the rollers will be an even enough distribution of weight to not risk damage to the boat. Hopefully it will reduce the need to retouch paint all the time too. And finally, I'm really hoping it will make it easier to get the thing up on the trailer by myself. Right now, I can do it, but it's quite difficult.

Oh, and I glued some heavy duty protective rubber pieces, right where the crossbeams lash to the hull. Sorry, I forgot to take pictures! I find that the crossbeams continually wear away at least at the paint there, and even a bit into the plywood. I am hoping the rubber will keep that from happening. I'm not sure what the stuff is called, but it's the stuff that is glued to the leading edge of cessna wings to protect from flying debris on grass airstrips. I got some old stuff from some airplane mechanics I know.

I am continually concerned about termites. Right now the boat is stored up on top of a 20' shipping container, directly under a roof. Termites are a real problem in Papua New Guinea and they've been known to build their little tunnels up the side of any material to reach some wood they're after. I dread coming out next time and finding such a mud tunnel leading up the side of the container to Shan Skailyn. I'm not sure what else I can do to prevent it either. If anyone has any ideas, I'm all ears! So far, I've ordered some diatomaceous earth to dust around the boat and on top of the container. I've read that's quite effective for most bugs including termites, as long as the dust stays dry. However, I'm not entirely convinced that DE would stop a mud tunnel.

Anyway, enjoy the video. 

Sailing in Madang

Shan Skailyn has been the source of immeasurable fun for our family over this last week. This is the first we've been able to really use the boat since its maiden voyage back in March. It was even more easy to use after the trailer was built. It's so much easier to get the boat into and out of the water now! We've gone out paddling with the kids just about every day, going out to one of the many little islands sprinkled around these clear blue waters. It's been fun for kids when we pull up to a small beach and play and swim for a bit. Our girls have made quick friends with the locals who are often out swimming and who gravitate to us when they see us pulling up.

I must retract my previous comment about Shan Skailyn not being a good paddling canoe at all. It certainly has its quirks, but with a little more experience after this week, I've found that it takes understanding the conditions that affect steerage under paddle power to get things to work right. Weight distribution is a big one. Too much fore or aft can make a big difference, as does the way the wind plays off the hull. Whichever end of the hull is sticking up more out of the water is going to get blown. And if the wind is strong enough, paddling with a brailed sail is nearly impossible as it constantly wants to turn the boat backwards. It's similar, though maybe not as bad with the sail just open and weathercocking.

In the past, I've always alternated between paddling and the steering oar, paddling and then using the oar to correct our direction. Not too bad, but seems clumsy. But yesterday I played with some slightly different paddling strokes that resulted in much easier maintenance of direction. I'd like to experiment with this more to see if it works in various conditions. I think I may have hit on something here that can reduce the need for the oar. The short of it though is that I'm encouraged about the paddle-ability of Shan Skailyn now.

I started leaving Shan Skailyn in the water, anchored in the little bay each day. That makes it easier to go out on a whim for whatever amount of time works for our family. On Friday alone I went out 3 times! Twice sailing and once paddling with the kids. Friday produced some excitement on the sailing front as it was the first time out totally on my own. I've been anxious to see how I can handle all that needs doing when there is nobody else to help. I certainly have to learn a few things and get a routine down to make it happen smoother.

For example, on Friday I went out in the afternoon in a stiff wind. Paddling out of our shallow little bay into the strong wind proved exhausting. This was before I learned I could improve my technique some. Once out, I really struggled getting the sail raised in that wind before the boat would get completely turned around and threaten overturning. I finally managed, though I was so tired afterward that I wondered if I had anything in me left to sail with. Perseverence paid off though because the wind was strong enough to get me cruising pretty good out there. Shan Skailyn was moving at the more exciting speeds and producing some spray off the bow of the ama and around the leeboard and rudder at times. It felt good to feel like things were under control as I captained all by myself.

I was feeling confident enough by the weekend to take my whole family (except our 17 mo old son, Ethan) out for their first time sailing. The wind was disappointingly mild, being just enough to get us moving a bit, but achingly slow. Still my wife, Shannon and our three girls enjoyed it quite a bit. And prior to taking the whole family out, I took my middle daughter out on her own. She had the thrill of seeing a school of fish jumping out of the water in large groups. She thought that was the greatest thing! Both of our oldest girls keep wanting to just jump in the water out in the middle of the sea there. It strikes me how brave they are as I was always scared to be in deep water like that when I was young. In fact, I still don't like it even though I realize my fears are mostly unreasonable.

After sailing with the whole family we pulled up to a nearby beach, anchored the boat just offshore and just swam around in the shallow water. I tried leaving the sail up and just let it weather cock under anchor. I saw that as the boat would sway back and forth, as it would swing starboard the wind would catch the sail and before the sail had a chance to really luff, the boat would begin moving forward. Then it would catch the anchor line again, whip back around and begin to swing to starboard again for another round. I'm trying to figure out the easiest ways to do things without all the extra work of brailing every time. The thing would lurch forward fast enough, moving 10-15 feet at a lurch, that I worried it would hit one of the kids in the head or something as they swam around. So probably not a good idea for the future. Brailing it will be.

Earlier in the week I took a couple of my friends out sailing (the only pictures I get of myself sailing). Again the conditions were pretty mild with just a few short lived breezes strong enough to get us up and going.

As time goes on I hope to seek more adventure and explore around the many coves and sheltered island beaches all around us. There are probably hundreds of little islands around here with 15 miles of us! It's beautiful and the local folks are usually friendly and happy to make friends and talk about boats and their life on the water.

I've got one more day before I have to start packing Shan Skailyn up here. I'll have some minor repairs (mostly painting) and small improvements I'd like to make before packing away. Due to logistics and the possibility of no available guesthousing out here in Madang for a while, it's looking like it could be another year before we can come back out and make use of our family canoe. The thought of packing it away is sad, but it does make the times we do get to come out here and use it all the more sweet.

By the way, isn't it nice to finally have some real pictures posted!

Trailer Made

We've been out here in Madang for the last week now. I've only managed to actually sail Shan Skailyn once yet. Though most of that was because of the fact that I didn't yet have a trailer to get it down to the water. That's not to say Shan Skailyn hasn't been out on the water though. We've been out paddling quite a few times with the kids and our friends and their kids. It's fun but this boat is definitely not a good paddling canoe. I've found though that if you get the weight distribution just right it can be much easier. But that's not what this post is about... and don't think sailing has gone by the wayside either. We've sailed once and I'm planning on milking it this weekend now that I can take the trailer out by myself instead of enlisting at least 3 others to help carry.

Here are the pix of the trailer being built... and of course, the final product. The axle is provided by a junked golf cart I found from which I cut out the chassis. Just welded up a suitable frame for the boat and then welded that on top of the chassis. You might notice the welder not wearing a mask... no joke! He says he's been welding since '85 and just shuts his eyes before it lights up. He's gotta have some damage to his retina, I'd think!

I took it in the water today... again with the kids begging to go out... so we just paddled. I'm not sure I want to take my young kids out sailing until I get some confidence on the water being the only one manning things. So when the kids really want to go we just paddle. They love it. We had 3 adults and 5 kids in it yesterday! Anyway, today we took Shan Skailyn out using the trailer for the first time. Kind of a messy ordeal; one I hope to make a little more graceful tomorrow. Today the only way I could get that thing in the water was to lower the trailer into the water, axle, differential and flywheel (left over from the golf cart) and everything. So now I'm really worried about rust. I've been told by friends if I want the trailer to last, not to put it in that salt water. Blew that one today! Hopefully tomorrow's attempt will have me figuring out a better way.

You might be wondering about the folding iakos and how I deal with that. One word... acrobatics! Actually it's not that difficult, but must be very clumsy looking to monohull enculturated onlookers. Once the trailer is in position, I have to unfold and pin the iakos so the ama is in the fully extended position. It doesn't take very much at all to keep the boat from tipping out of it's trailer. But then the acrobatics. I have to somehow, while keeping the boat from tipping out of the trailer, manage to slide it off its trailer and into the water. Today's attempt was too messy to say it's easily doable, but time and necessity usually provide a way.

I won't leave you hanging for too long on the sailing pix and update. Just that my only sailing so far was short and very calm and uneventful. And I've not had much time to just sit and write yet. Sail first... then when our little vacation is over I should get some time to post more.

Spongy Rudder Resolution 2.0

This is my solution to the spongy rudder problem Shan Skailyn experienced during our voyage in March. If you remember, the rotating plate to which the rudder hinges attach, the plate that makes it a 'kick up' rudder, had problems. Originally it was made out of plywood (see picture). After about 4 days of sailing the plate became soft for some reason and was twisting and flexing so much that the rudder lost much of it's effectiveness. We also feared that the thing might actually tear off if we didn't somehow fix it. We managed with the unbelievable provision of a handful of large washers. This fixed it temporarily, allowing us to finish the voyage... but just barely. By the time we arrived at our destination up north from Madang the thing was acting up again.

I asked some folks on the woodenboat forum, on the "outrigger and proa thread" what might be done to avoid this problem. Someone suggested (Gary Dierking perhaps?) plywood sandwiched between two aluminum plates. He also suggested plywood made of a stiffer type of wood. Can't remember what type it was and I don't have access to the internet at the moment to check. My solution varies only because I am limited on resources. I had to make do with what I currently have on hand. I only had enough aluminum left over to plate the one side. I think it should work though.

This is an 1/8" thick aluminum plate fastened with 13 epoxy bonded wood screws into a plywood base. As well as being attached with screws, for what it's worth, the aluminum plate is also glued with epoxy to the wood. Not sure how strong the bond will be to the aluminum, but at the very least it provides waterproofing for the wood between the plate and the plywood. Then all the rest of the wood was coated with epoxy resin, allowed to soak in and reapplied again while still uncured, so as to soak up as much of the stuff as possible. This should hopefully make the wood much less penetrable by water. The whole thing feels pretty strong. All the rest of the boat is out in town so I have to wait till we go out again in September to get it all assembled.

For comparison, I've attached here pictures of the original assembly (with the rudder attached) as well as a picture of the new one I've constructed.

Looking Back

I tell you what! After taking Shan Skailyn on that maiden voyage (and surviving) and coming back here into the bush, I find myself anxious for the next opportunity to take him out sailing again around Madang. It's going to be a while though, and it doesn't help that the view that greets us every morning from high up on our mountain here teases us with the ocean just right there, seeming to be so close, yet so far out of reach for us. Look at that picture. That ocean is just calling out to be sailed again. Oh well.

So I've had a small list of things I've been wanting to write about for some time here. They're just little details about construction and/or materials that I thought some would appreciate hearing about as they make considerations about building.

First is regarding my decision to use bamboo. If you get the right kind, I've heard it can be rock solid. I think I got the right kind because our spars held up wonderfully in some intense winds. I inspected the spars after our 7 days traveling and there were no splits or anything else that concerned me. The only problem I noticed was that the fiberglass wrap I put at the boom jaw end of the spar had a little bit of delamination going on; just a bit. I'm not concerned about it now, but will keep an eye on it. Other than that, no problems.

Next, I wasn't particularly pleased with how the titebond III held up. All 4 of my paddles, and my steering oar were made using it. I'm well aware of the need for high clamping pressure with wood glue. I clamped the bejeebers out of everything I used wood glue on. Admittedly still, it's a difficult thing to get your clamping all right with that many joints. Anyway, one of my bent shaft paddles started to delam on our trip. It was right in the bends of the handle after a few days on the water. Glad I made an extra. I also noticed in a couple spots on the steering oar (along the handle) that it looks like some small bits are delaminating. I think it'll hold up for a good while still, but I don't like that any glue joint even starts to come undone. Looking back, what with all the work it takes to make this stuff, just do it right and use epoxy for anything that's going to see that much water exposure.

I liked how our rudder worked, until it got all spongy on us. Turns out that plywood is not a great thing to use to make the pivot attachment point for Gary's kick up rudder. I mentioned the problem on the outrigger and proa thread and Gary recommended sandwiching a thinner plywood with 1/8" or so aluminum on either side. That pivot point has got to be pretty stiff and strong to work well. In slower conditions, the plywood alone worked well enough, but when we'd get moving, the weakness of the plywood shone through as the rudder assembly would begin to flex out from the force, thus rending the boat difficult to control. Not good.

I never did have a problem with the leeboard kicking up just from the force of the water. And if you remember, I varied (per Gary's recommendation) from the plans in the book and just ran a piece of timber from gunwale to chine to stiffen the side under the seat, rather than build the bracket. That worked out well and we never had a problem with it. Thanks Gary!

I did, however have a fair bit of problem with the rudder kicking up under speed. But again, I think the problem had to do with the added drag of the flexing pivot assembly. Most of the time, if the thing was hand tightened enough, it would stay put quite well enough even under decent speed (before it started flexing on us).

When arrived at our destination and I was disassembling the boat, I noticed that right under the iako attachment points, especially on the port/ama side, the iakos had rubbed the paint right off and even wore a bit of an indentation into the plywood. Not so good. For anyone building a boat out there, I would plan on having something strong between the iako and the hull to minimize wear. I found some good strong rubber strips which I intend to install after touching up the worn spots on the boat next time we're out. It's the kind of rubber aircraft mechanics put on the leading edge of wings of say a small cessna to keep flying rocks and debris. This is a stiff enough and strong enough rubber to do the trick, I think. Time and use will tell.

Finally, I thought I'd comment on how the boat handled with 3 adults plus gear. You can see in the picture how much freeboard we had in calm water. (Sorry the quality isn't great. It's a screen shot from non-HD video footage) It wasn't a great deal of freeboard, but pretty good considering our total body weight was about 250kgs and our gear was probably about 40kgs. Surprisingly, even when conditions got rougher out there we had enough freeboard to feel pretty good about things even though the bow was burying more.

To be honest, now that we're back here in the bush, it's kind of depressing not to have the building project around anymore. Shan Skailyn is done and sailed. I miss having that up here to work on even though it makes no sense to have a boat up here. I hear Gary just released the plans for his Va'a Motu... Hmmmmm. Really though, I do find I have more of the time I need to take care of things around the house now!

Day 7 - Victorious Arrival!

Hmmm, my original post of this seems to have gotten botched. Somehow the text got all out of order. Here's just the text in hopes it'll read right. If you want to see pictures, you'll have to scroll down to see the botched post. Ahh, the joys of blogging from the bush.

Another night of tossed and turned rest on a hard surface went by. We awoke a bit later this morning, having determined the night before that it would be good to stick around a bit in the morning in the off chance that my camera and the captured moments it contained might be returned. It was around 6:30 when I finally made my way up and off my planked bed. I woke Sesi and then made my way out to wake Chad, who was sleeping by the boat.

I envied him out there. The evening had brought nice weather and Chad had set up his mosquito net cocoon out under the sky next to the boat in that soft white sand. Man, that must have been comfortable to sleep in. There was still a small group of youths out there huddled around a small fire. By the ashes in the fire pit, it was obvious they'd been out there all night. Turns out that they were rotating security through the night for the boat. Their effort to protect was very touching.

We began setting about the task of getting our cargo and boat ready to launch. Every moment closer to our departure carried with it the weight of knowing that once we took off, the chances of finding that camera were slim. Each step of preparation was a conscious decision to let the thing go, to leave it behind. I doubled the reward amount and handed out my cell number to about fifty of the youth. The reward amount was more than enough, I hoped, to motivate a scouring of the immediate and outlying area with those looking to make a quick and easy profit from their effort.

When we were about ready, before we found ourselves under the scrutiny of our impending audience, we grabbed a few handfuls of our trail mix and a piece of beef jerky. Soon after, someone also brought us each a cup of the uber-sweetened tea.

Once out at the boat, everything loaded and lashed in place, we thanked the large crowd for their hospitality and for such great effort put into trying to find our little stolen camera. We reminded of the reward and contact information and then started organizing a small number of men to help move the boat down for launch.

The crowd was pressed in all around, making it difficult to get things going. Noticing this, some of the adults in the crowd started in on the children that they needed to get on to school. The kids heard, but did not move... almost as if the adults had said nothing at all. The adults told them again, this time more in unison with raised voices revealing their frustration. Still the children did not move. Still, it was as if the adults weren't saying anything at all. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a coconut fly through the air whizzing through a crowd of the children. One of the men had thrown it and was now grabbing another one as he began yelling at them. The kids scattered, another coconut flew, and an angered pursuit ensued. The man tore a branch off a nearby sapling and chased the kids off in the direction they were to go lashing the thing at them. This was clearly exciting to the crowd, who watched and commented and laughed. In moments the show was over and we were now free to launch.

We hauled Shan Skailyn down to the breakers, which were small. It was one of the rare times we didn't have to time the waves before shoving out. Once the bow was in the water we shoved out quickly and hopped in, paddling away a bit before assessing the light winds.

In all the hubbub yesterday, I'd forgotten to ask Sesi about those kids that ran from us upon our arrival at Bom. As we paddled away from Erima I found myself wondering about it again and asked Sesi what the deal was. Why had those kids been so afraid of us like that yesterday? It was one of the most unusual encounters I've ever had in my 9 years living in Papua New Guinea! Sesi laughed again and said it was nothing. He said that there's been a rumor all along the Rai Coast about how white folks have run out of livers and have been coming and taking livers from unwilling donors along the coast here. Those kids at Bom, not knowing how to interpret our arrival, fit it nicely in the frame of that rumor. Not wanting to become victims, they booked it out of there! Hmmmm... sounds a bit like one of those email spams from years ago? I'm sure many may recall the emails warning travelers; victims being left in bathtubs with ice, short a lobe of liver or a kidney, or whatever the rumor was. I find myself wondering how in the world a rumor like that gets propagated so thoroughly over here where so few have access to email.

Erima, where we'd just left, was well beyond the bend that brings the coast up northward toward Madang. We had hoped that the Taleo wind, which had always been against us as we labored westward up the Rai Coast, would now be working with us as we turned up north. If the winds continued from the west we'd hoped that we'd be able to maintain a nice brisk reach on a port tack the rest of the way to our destination. It wasn't to be. The winds, light as they were, maintained their constant pressure against us. And this early in the morning, the wind was so light that we found it impossible to make any use of it. After several fruitless attempts, we dropped the sail again figuring we could paddle faster than this. Once paddling we started making some good time.

The sea was more glass like this morning than any other morning we'd seen. The orange sunlight, dissipated and colored by the clouds on the horizon, reflected solidly off the smooth water, broken only by two small silhouettes of fishermen in their outriggers. They were obviously taking advantage of this beautiful morning. We glided northward, maintaining about a kilometer between us and the shore. Seeing the fishermen there made me think of the handline we'd brought along and the fact that we'd made zero use of it. We were so focused on the effort of sailing our little craft that it seemed impossible to add yet another task to the mix. Save it for another time, I guess.

We continued paddling for about half an hour or so before passing a logging operation that was located on a piece of land jutting out before resuming directly northward again. I can no longer remember the name of this place. My attempt to consult my cached google earth maps (from the bush with no internet) is proving my point that technology is more of a pain in the rear than it's worth. So the name of the place will remain nameless... er, maybe it was Maraga Point, or Maraga Hook, or something like that.

By the way, little side-note here. I've learned something about google earth (and probably google maps too). I've noted that all the companies involved in activities that seem controversial that we encountered along the way do not show on google's maps. It only shows wild green bush where they are located. My guess is that google offers (for a fee, of course) an option for one not to exist on their maps for those who want to minimize their online presence. Interesting.

So back on topic. We'd talked about stopping at the logging operation, having heard that it was a decent enough place to stop and that we'd be more welcome there than we'd been back at Ramu Nickel. However, we'd really just started the day, and all three of us were holding on to the hope that we'd be able to finish our journey today. We'd talked about it, and it seemed like such a long shot. Making Madang was doable, being maybe 12 or 14 kilometers away, but beyond that, we still had easily another 10+. The wind was against us and we were paddling. Yet, the thought anchored itself in our minds. We were set on reaching our goal. So we passed Maraga, continuing our pulling, northward up a long stretch of nice looking smooth black sandy beaches. We could clearly discern Bil Bil island in the distance. Standing just off the coast it marks the outskirts of Madang town. We were not just pulling. We felt as if we were being drawn to it, our eyes fixed on our goal, paddling with rhythm that was going to get us there. Bil Bil, here we come!

The morning wore on as we made our way closer and closer. The wind seemed to tease us, picking up just long enough for us to put forth the effort to raise the sail again before either dying down or becoming so shifty, changing direction and becoming light enough again that our minds returned again to the thought of paddling.

Even with the light shifty winds and alternating sailing and paddling, Bil Bil seemed to be coming on fast. Finally, what I'd guess to be about 5 or 6 miles out, a consistent wind picked up, we set the sail and began tacking up into it. The direction of the wind now allowed us to maintain a port tack pointed high into the wind with need only one or two tacks inland to keep us on course. We'd heard several people say that when we got to Bil Bil we'd want to keep to the safety of the inside of the small island, between it and the coast. The side facing the sea was all rocky and the waters typically much more rough. As we made our way toward it though we saw that it was a much more direct path to go on the outside. Chad and Sesi and myself discussed whether we should take the direct route and risk whatever people had warned us about or stick to the inside which may take a little longer. We ended up deciding that Bil Bil was still far enough off that conditions could change quite a bit. We'd take the route that allowed either path to be taken after assessing the situation once we were nearer. So we took a course directly toward Bil Bil.

Bil Bil not only marked the beginning of Madang town, but also a much more densely islanded section of the coast. Many small, even uninhabited islands, some as small as a house, would dot the waters. Bil Bil shared company with only two or three other islands in the vicinity, but once at Madang the numbers would seem countless. It was the thought of frequenting some of these many islands with my kids over the years that prompted me initially to build Shan Skailyn.

Coming up on Bil Bil we opted for the inside track where I remember from many times flying over, there seemed to be nice beaches on the sheltered sides of these many islands. We thought it would be more scenic and fun to cruise by these beaches. And hey, take a look at this... I have a picture!!! This is a picture of one of Bil Bil's little wantoks (friends) I took a couple years ago. Beautiful! I'd always thought we'd stop at this little beach and sip on some coconuts, soaking in the scenery a bit before moving on. I was disappointed as we passed Bil Bil, and then another and then another that this heavenly little beach never greeted us. I was looking for it, but did not see it! How was it missed? Oh well. Besides, it was now only about 11am. We were at the edge of Madang now! Would it be possible to make our final destination today? This thought kicked down any notion we might have of stopping along the way.

We passed through and behind the few islands there by Bil Bil. Shan Skailyn drew the attention of many of the local children as they hung out on trees and rocks, waving and hootin' and hollerin' at us. The wind was starting to die out so they had plenty of time to look on as we moved along at a snail's pace. While here we called a friend who lives in town and who could notify our families that we'd made it to Madang. It wasn't long before we passed the island group there beyond Bil Bil. The rest of the coastline now, another couple miles or so until Madang harbor, was all rocky with no good landing spots. This rocky section had always scared me; mostly because I could actually see it when we were in town. I'd had lots of time before ever taking this trip to think about the dangers of being caught out here with nowhere to land. We'd been through much worse places in much worse weather, but for some reason my old fear of this place held on. I was nervous here even though the wind was next to nil and the water was calm. I just wanted to be beyond this last little bit of rocky stuff. Who knows what the weather would do, and we were still moving along slowly.

I found it difficult to recognize from this new perspective, the different places with which I am familiar from the ground. It was odd to see the different locations, knowing I ought to be familiar yet was having a hard time recognizing them. One by one they would click. As soon as a major feature was obvious, many of the others would jump out, now having their reference point.

Relief of the fear of this little coastal section came for me when I saw the lighthouse known as Coastwatchers, or "Coasties", a towering white rocket shaped lighthouse that is well known for it's welcome to Madang. Once we were at this tower, I knew, we were almost home free. We'd cross the harbor, after watching for any ships that might be coming through, then pass on behind the protection of a myriad of little islands that we would navigate around and through to make the final leg to our destination.

We heard a shout from the shore. It was definitely a western shout. We looked and noticed our friend whom we'd called earlier was standing right out by the lighthouse and taking video of us with his phone. He filmed us for a while until we crossed by and into the harbor.

Kranket island was the first of the many islands we'd pass once we'd crossed the harbor. It felt as if we'd made our destination! But we still had a ways to go. Only being about 1pm now we figured we have a real shot at finishing our journey today. We sailed on.

Most of the rest of the afternoon there were half-decent winds blowing through all those islands. We glided over varicolored blues as deep dark rose to lightness of shallow coral only to dive back down bringing us out over the unseen bottom. The occasional hazard of a lone rock was to be avoided as we tacked our way up wind, navigating in between the islands, hoping the next passage would bring the familiar into sight.

We found it altogether a different thing to be tacking upwind with intent of navigating specific passages. Our experience up to this point had just been tacking mostly up a straight line, like the zig zag stitching on the seams of our sail. However, navigating in between the islands, some of them providing only narrow channels, required constant judgment calls regarding how much more zig than zag would put us on track to make the passage; judgment calls we found ourselves missing frequently. It's amazing how deceptive the whole game can be. In the end though, it was no big deal, we just did a few more tacks than we thought we'd have to as we made our way to our destination. We found ourselves being a little more daring with the rocks too as we wanted to maximize each tack. We'd approach sometimes to within 15 or 20 yards of the rocks at times before tacking back out. The weather and the waves were such that we feared little about losing control. Plus, when you're on that final stretch, close to home, one tends to be willing to do more than he would in the far off places. Maybe it's the motivation to just get there quickly. Or maybe it's the thought that should something happen, you're in familiar territory. I knew we were close by because I could now see the long stretch of Sek island in the distance.

Eventually as we gazed between the narrow passage of two islands, we spotted the familiar silver glare of the roofing tin on the houses that made up our destination! Excitedly we made our way in, passing between the islands and into the little bay that is our home away from home. We couldn't wait! We couldn't believe we were finally here. My posterior was killing me from the last 7 days in this little canoe. An infection seemed to be setting in. But it mattered not. We were home! Today, we'd made it further than any other day, by a long shot! At least 22 miles. It seems the same tide that worked against us on our final leg of the Rai Coast (before it turned up northward) was now working for us and helped carry us along! Right here though, the wind tapered off, making our final approach a slow and agonizing 45 minute crawl. It may have been faster to just drop sail at this point, but we dared not be seen paddling into home. We wanted the glory of Shan Skailyn under sail power, even though barely crawling along, to be seen. Paddling in would feel like defeat. So we crawled our way in under sail, got in close brailed the sail, and prepared for our final landing.  We paddled in to the cheers of our family and friends who had come out to greet us! Yes! We made it! Thank you, God!

I honestly don't remember a time when I was as frightened as I found myself several times on this trip! The birth of our first child may have come close, but that was different. What started out as just a crazy idea two years ago, came to fruition and took us much further beyond the threshold of our capabilities than we'd anticipated. Initially, upon pondering the craziness of not only building this boat in the middle of the jungle, but also committing to sailing it 90 miles with no sailing experience, my doubt was balanced out by thoughts of all the many other crazy things that people have done and continue to do and by God's good graces (whether they give him credit or not), still come out alright on the other side. It didn't seem right to let the fear I've harbored since the very conception of the idea, keep me from continuing to plan and setting out on this maiden voyage. That first day on Wab beach (and the subsequent few days afterward) as reality hit me, I was sure I was a complete idiot for thinking that way and having moved ahead with these plans. I was sure I was going to die in the Bismark Sea! But there was no way out by then. Now that we're on the other side, having learned what we learned and seen what we saw (and we're still alive), I am glad that we decided to just do this thing and that we went all the way!

It's a long shot, but now I'm starting to wonder if it would be worthwhile to try to make this trip, or something similar, again in another year or two, but time it with the Rai Wind on our tail.

For now, Shan Skailyn rests in his place atop a shipping container, under the hot, dry shelter of corrugated roofing tin. It sits out there while we're back in the bush again where we work. I'll have some minor repairs to make and touching up with paint next time we're out for a break. A few other small repairs will bring him right back up to new again. Much of what awaits Shan Skailyn from here on out will be drastically more tame than what he's already been through; taking the kids out in the calm bay, checking out the different islands... and hey, maybe I'll be able to afford a 'moto' someday.