This is one of my favorite blogs. The initial version was created as a contest entry for a travel writing workshop held in Marin County at Book Passage. I didn’t win first prize but I was a runner-up.
Here’s the rest of the story: For a year after Gunter and I completed our circumnavigation in 2008. our catamaran Pacific Bliss remained on the dock at the Catana factory in Canet—the south of France—where she had been built. Most of the western world was deep into recession and ocean-going yachts were not selling. But finally, the recession eased and we sold our beloved Pacific Bliss to a U.K. couple with two young children.
The new family sailed her across the Atlantic to the Caribbean, as we did during our Maiden Voyage. Anticipating adventures and enthused about new places to discover, they became familiar with Pacific Bliss. They learned to use her high-tech systems, evaluated her strength, and tested her resolve to keep them safe and secure, just as she did for us. They sailed her throughout the South Pacific, sometimes following our path.
As the years passed, we followed the progress of Pacific Bliss less and less. We had become enamored of our new love, Northern Bliss, a property in Northwest Wisconsin, purchased with the proceeds from the sale. We gutted, remodeled and added a bunk room to our new vacation and family reunion venue so it could sleep 16. Two years later, we purchased the two-bedroom 1946 cabin next door and combined the properties. Many of my blogs now focus on cruising, riverboating, or land touring—as well as the joys of landscaping and gardening. Despite sailing around the world, however, Gunter and I are still afflicted with wanderlust. If you’ve discovered a cure for that, let us know!
About the Author: Lois and Günter Hofmann lived their dream by having a 43-foot ocean-going catamaran built for them in the south of France and sailing around the world. Learn more about their travel adventures by reading Lois’s award winning nautical adventure trilogy. Read more about Lois and her adventures at her website and stay in touch with Lois by liking her Facebook page. You can purchase her books recounting their journey featuring images from 60 countries on Amazon.
One cannot circumnavigate the world without sailing to dangerous places. One of those places was Sri Lanka in 2007. We hadn’t planned to stop at this island nation, southeast of India; we’d flown there a few years before and had taken the country tour then. Our planned circumnavigation route would have taken us across the Indian Ocean from Thailand to the Maldives. But the weather gods were not cooperating. The three of us on Pacific Bliss—my husband Gunter, our crew, Chris, and I—had endured a miserable crossing of the Bay of Bengal, six days of one rainstorm after another. We welcomed any refuge from lumpy seas, even though we knew that Sri Lanka was at war with the Tamil Tigers in the north of this island shaped like a tear-drop.
While underway, I had a pleasant SSB radio conversation with a commercial ship captain with a clipped British-Indian accent:
“Where are you from?”
“America. California.”
“Oh, such a nice place. I’m Sri Lankan. My name is Colombo. Welcome to my country.”
“Thank you. I look forward to being there.”
“Are you coming to Galle?”
“Yes.”
“It is very safe there. But do not be afraid of the depth charges they set off at night. It is to ward off the Tamil Tigers. Tamil divers could swim into the harbor to plant a bomb onto one of our navy ships. The charges will sound like a bomb, and you will feel it with your little ship.”
“Thank you for letting me know”
“It is safe to travel in my country. You must go to Kandy, in the highlands, and to Colombo. Not to the north-northeast though. That is where the fighting is going on.”
An Unplanned Stop in Sri Lanka 06º 01’N, 80º13’E Galle, Sri Lanka February 9, 2007
Despite the miseries that we’ve endured this past week, part of the joy of traveling is encountering the unexpected…Serendipity brought us to Sri Lanka. And I’m fascinated that the country’s original name was Serendip, an Arab traders’ word applied to the land long before the Portuguese came on the scene. It reflected the lucky circumstance of their discovery and contact. Today, in its native Sinhala tongue, Sri Lanka means Land of the Blessed. For us, being here is indeed blessed and serendipitous.
Günter and I intend to understand its people and culture better—and, yes, even its continuing civil war. This war caused us to strike Sri Lanka from our original circumnavigation plan. Now, though, we cannot avoid its ongoing cruelty. We arrive at dawn’s light, crossing the shipping channels at 90 degrees and deviating course twice to sail behind giant freighters.
“You never want to cross in front of a freighter,” Günter tells Chris, “because it can take one of those monsters up to four miles to stop.”
As instructed via VHF, we prepare the ship for anchoring outside the harbor. It doesn’t take long to see the guns. We’ve never experienced an entrance like this! Two small runabouts, with mounted machine guns, race toward our boat while men wave and point to where they want us to drop the hook. Next, we spot a huge navy vessel—tons of sleek steel glinting in the morning sun—coming around the breakwater. Three Immigration Officers from the navy vessel board Pacific Bliss, while the two speedboats keep circling us.
The officers conduct a thorough inspection of Pacific Bliss and give us forms to fill out. These are immigration forms, and each asks the same questions over and over. The process lasts half an hour. Then, after stamping the paperwork, one officer asks for “smokes.” Wisely, we had purchased a few cartons just for this purpose. Chris distributes a pack to each officer.
We’ll have a two-hour wait before being shown inside the harbor, but we don’t mind; we’re happy to have our first onboard breakfast in a week in calm water. After breakfast, via VHF, we hire a local agent, G.A.C. Shipping, to handle the rest of the voluminous paperwork that will allow Pacific Bliss to berth here.
Later, a navy officer boards our ship to direct Günter to a berth inside the harbor. As we enter, we note that it’s entirely roped off, except for one small lane for fishing boats and yachts. The officer presents us with three choices: to tie up to a black buoy in the center, where we’d have to use our dinghy to get to shore; to Med-moor to a floating dock, consisting of wobbly plastic sections with no handholds; or to raft to one of the monohulls along the sea wall. We choose the third option and raft to a small monohull flying an Italian flag. Now we can walk across the monohull and from there, onto dry land.
“Well, we’re finally safe,” Günter declares with a sigh. “But we’re not going to do any serious touring until we graduate to a berth directly on the sea wall. Tomorrow, we’ll just walk around Galle and mingle with the locals.”
That first night, cradled by Pacific Bliss and swaying with the current, I fall asleep feeling like we are still at sea. KA-BOOM! I jerk awake. I hear and feel the thunderous boom right through the water and the hull. Oh my God! What have we gotten ourselves into?
Günter pulls me over to him and hugs me tight. “It’s the depth charges, remember? They told us this would happen.”
Talk about encountering the unexpected!
“It feels like we’re in a war zone!”
“We are. It’s the price we pay for taking refuge from the storm.”
***
Touring Sri Lanka. After exploring Galle our first day ashore, we were invited to our shipping agent’s home for dinner. Later we hired a car and driver and took a South Coast tour, including a one-day safari. Then we drove to Kandy and rode a train through the highlands. A few days later, we explored Sri Pada (Adam’s Peak) a pilgrimage site. Chris rose at daylight to climb the peak; I went there later and made it halfway before turning back.
A fisherman in southwestern Sri Lanka Photo credit: The Long Way Back, page 227Our crew, Chris, at one of the many waterfalls in Sri Lanka’s interior Photo credit: The Long Way Back, page 228An elephant bathing near Kandy, Sri Lanka comes right up to us on shore! Photo credit: The Long Way Back, page 231
After a week, we three were well-rested, invigorated, and ready to leave Sri Lanka. Chris provided a creative surprise: he brought local monks over to bless our catamaran! They tied a string around the entire perimeter, came on board, and gave their blessing to everything inside, including us! Now we could safely leave this magical land of Serendip.
Monks bless Pacific Bliss before we sail off to the Maldives
Photo credit: The Long Way Back, page 229
About the Author: Lois and Günter Hofmann lived their dream by having a 43-foot ocean-going catamaran built for them in the south of France and sailing around the world. Learn more about their travel adventures by reading Lois’s award-winning nautical adventure trilogy. Read more about Lois and her adventures at her website and stay in touch with Lois by liking her Facebook page. Lois’s books can be purchased from PIP Productions on Amazon.
From time to time, my blog will include an excerpt from one of my books. This story is an example of Serendipity—one of my favorite words.
Excerpted from The Long Way Back, pages 228-29:
An Unplanned Stop in Sri Lanka
06º01’N, 80º13’E
Galle, Sri Lanka
February 9
Despite the miseries that we’ve endured this past week, part of the joy of traveling is encountering the unexpected. We did not plan to stop at this island nation, southeast of India. Our plan was to sail straight to the Maldives. But after our miserable crossing of the Bay of Bengal, we welcome any refuge from the lumpy seas.
Serendipity brought us to Sri Lanka. And I’m fascinated that the country’s original name was Serendip, an Arab traders’ word applied to the land long before the Portuguese came on the scene. It reflected the lucky circumstance of their discovery and contact. Today, in its native Sinhala tongue, Sri Lanka means Land of the Blessed. For us, being here is indeed blessed and serendipitous.
Günter and I intend to understand its people and culture better—and, yes, even its’ continuing civil war. This war caused us to strike Sri Lanka from our original circumnavigation plan. Now, though, we cannot avoid its ongoing cruelty. We arrive at dawn’s light, crossing the shipping channels at 90 degrees and deviating course twice to sail behind giant freighters.
“You never want to cross in front of a freighter,” Günter tells our crew, Chris, “because it can take one of those monsters up to four miles to stop.”
Chris, our crew, with the Maldives flag. Gunter with Sri Lankan flag.
As instructed via VHF, we prepare the ship for anchoring outside the harbor. It doesn’t take long to see the guns. We’ve never experienced an entrance like this! Two small runabouts, with mounted machine guns, race toward our boat while men wave and point to where they want us to drop the hook. Next, we spot a huge navy vessel—tons of sleek steel glinting in the morning sun—coming around the breakwater. Three Immigration Officers from the navy vessel board Pacific Bliss, while the two speedboats keep circling us.
Stilt Fisherman near Galle, Sri Lanka.
The officers conduct a thorough inspection of Pacific Bliss and give us forms to fill out. These are immigration forms, and each asks the same questions over and over. The process lasts half an hour. Then, after stamping the paperwork, one officer asks for “smokes.” Wisely, we had purchased a few cartons just for this purpose. Chris distributes a pack to each officer.
We’ll have a two-hour wait before being shown inside the harbor, but we don’t mind; we’re happy to have our first onboard breakfast in a week in calm water. After breakfast, via VHF, we hire a local agent, G.A.C. Shipping, to handle the rest of the voluminous paperwork that will allow Pacific Bliss to berth here.
Later, a navy officer boards our ship to direct Günter to a berth inside the harbor. As we enter, we note that it’s entirely roped off, except for one small lane for fishing boats and yachts. The officer presents us with three choices: to tie up to a black buoy in the center, where we’d have to use our dinghy to get to shore; to Med-moor to a floating dock, consisting of wobbly plastic sections with no handholds; or to raft to one of the monohulls along the sea wall. We choose the third option and raft to a small monohull flying an Italian flag. Now we can walk across the monohull and from there, onto dry land.
“Well, we’re finally safe,” Günter declares with a sigh. “But we’re not going to do any serious touring until we graduate to a berth directly on the sea wall. Tomorrow, we’ll just walk around Galle and mingle with the locals.”
That first night, cradled by Pacific Bliss and swaying with the current, I fall asleep feeling like we are still at sea. KA-BOOM! I jerk awake. I hear and feel the thunderous boom right through the water and the hull. Oh my God! What have we gotten ourselves into?
Günter pulls me over to him and hugs me tight. “It’s the depth charges, remember? They told us this would happen.”
Talk about encountering the unexpected!
“It feels like we’re in a war zone!”
“We are. It’s the price we pay for taking refuge from the storm.”
An elephant bathing near Kandy, Sri Lanka, came right up to us watching on shore.
Boys hanging on the train, Sri Lankan Highlands.
Eighty-something Indian Guide, Adams Peak, Sri Lanka.
How has serendipity worked in your life? When you travel, do you make allowances for expecting the unexpected? Please add your own comments.
About the Author: Lois and Günter Hofmann lived their dream by having a 43-foot ocean-going catamaran built for them in the south of France and sailing around the world. Learn more about their travel adventures by reading Lois’s award winning nautical adventure trilogy. Read more about Lois and her adventures at her website and stay in touch with Lois by liking her Facebook page.
When we can view a photo and immediately recognize where it was taken, that’s the Power of Place. We know that this place is different from all the other places on this planet. It is unique—iconic. Examples of such correlations are:
Taj Mahal=India
Eiffel Tower=France
Pyramids=Egypt
Parthenon=Greece
Golden Gate Bridge=California, USA
Did you notice that all these icons are man-made? “Oh, what a wonderful monument…statue…structure…bridge…memorial,” you say as you snap the obligatory photo to bring home.
Taj Mahal, Agra, India, taken during Lois’s India Tour, 2011
Sense of Place: Sensory Memories of Places Visited
Feeling usually involves connection. You get involved with that place. You bring yourself into the picture. You experience it. And when you bring that photo home and view it again, you’re transported back to that place, that frame of mind, that experience. Did you feel the spray from that waterfall as you stood on that bridge? Did you touch and smell those flowers as they rustled with the wind? Do you hear the chatter of those monkeys before they tried to steal your banana? Do you re-live the fear you felt when you saw that approaching storm?
We swam in back of this waterfall in Fatu Hiva, Marquesas Islands, French Polynesia. From Sailing the South Pacific
Bring home the Passion of People instead of the Power of Things
Portraits of people inevitably bring back the connection you felt to that place. As I look through the photos of our eight years circumnavigating the world on a catamaran, and our travels around the world in recent years, it is those photos of people that create the memories all over again. I laugh, I cry, I remember, and sometimes, I even dream of going back to that special place in the world.
About the Author: Lois and Günter Hofmann lived their dream by having a 43-foot ocean-going catamaran built for them in the south of France and sailing around the world. Learn more about their travel adventures by reading Lois’s award-winning nautical adventure trilogy. Read more about Lois and her adventures at her website and stay in touch with Lois by liking her Facebook page. Lois’s books can be purchased from PIP Productions on Amazon and on her website.
“A kiss is just a kiss…and Bliss is who I miss,” Gunter sings as I hum along.I put my hand in his as we power walk around Sail Bay on the sidewalk fronting our condo in San Diego. It’s an unusually warm day in February, the lovers’ month. And we’re both thinking of another love, one we both shared.
Her name is Pacific Bliss. We knew her well. She’s the43-foot Catana catamaran who faithfully sailed us around the world. On August 28, 2008, we crossed our path in Canet, France where we had started out eight long years before. Seven voyages. 34,000 miles. 62 countries. So many adventures and misadventures. So many Moments of Bliss.
Pacific Bliss on Sandbar
Pacific Bliss
Forlorn and seemingly forsaken, Pacific Bliss waited patiently on that same dock outside the factory where she was built. She pined for a new owner throughout the turbulent winter and the balmy Mediterranean spring while the stock portfolios of expectant buyers descended into a financial sinkhole.
Meanwhile, back in San Diego, my friends inquired, “In your entire circumnavigation, which was your favorite place?”I searched my memory bank, struggling for answers.
My most precious memories relate to people we met along the way. I admired how the teeming masses of Sri Lanka managed to eke out a living.Regal women in bold saris and determined men in crisp shirts defied the steaming climate and the diesel-polluted streets clogged with tuk-tuks, taxis, bicycles and even the occasional working elephant.When the 2004 tsunami devastated that lively southwestern coast I had photographed, I sobbed my heart out.I mourned the wizened “lace lady” in Galle who sold me the intricate tablecloth I will forever treasure. I remembered the blind man with the missing front teeth at the souvenir-stand-by-the-sea, the one who taught us the many uses of a coconut. I pictured the family with handsome dark-eyed sons who ran the turtle rescue operation south of Colombo. All gone now.
The remarkable Ni Vanuatu of Waterfall Bay, in the Northern Banks Islands, stole my heart. They have no electricity, no cars, and no landing strip. Their island is accessible only by boat. Yet they are the happiest, most generous locals we met. We had the good fortune to anchor off their bay while we attended a festival honoring the installation of a new chief.After three days of dancing, kava drinking, and teaching us how to make lap-lap (a pizza-like food that is their national dish) a chorus of young people belted out a song honoring the gathered sailors. Each one came forward to sing a special tribute, “My name is Joy and I love you, my name is Peter and I love you.” By the end of the song, we were all in tears.
I first fell in love with the Aussies during the Port2Port Rally from Vanuatu to Oz, sponsored by the town of Bundaberg. A farm girl from Wisconsin who grew up in the fifties, I found it easy to relate to the sugar cane farmers of Queensland and the cowboys working the vast ranches of the Outback. Many of them became our friends. We decided to spend an entire year in Oz, traveling the length and breadth of that great land.
I also find it impossible to rank the flora and fauna of my favorite places.
An avid flower-lover my entire life, my heart stopped when I viewed acres upon acres of winsome wildflowers north ofPerth, then stopped again when a child guide in Borneo led me to one lone flower, two feet wide. The bloom was a rare Rafflesia—a flower that took nine months to mature.
Rafflesia, World’s largest flower, Borneo (this photo will likely appear in my third book, The Long Way Back
My heart soared when I came upon the ancient, graying Tane Mahuta, the Lord of the Forest, in Waipoua, New Zealand.
Which rates higher: the majestic rock the outback Aborigines call Uluru, rising red in the pale dawn, or the brooding widow’s peak of Mount Kota Kinabalu, the symbol of Borneo, “the land beneath the clouds?”
Were the deadly saltwater crocs and ubiquitous kangaroos of Australia more thrilling than the playful orangutans in the Sepilok Forest Reserve of Borneo, the cute baby elephants in Sri Lanka’s orphanage, or the magnificent tigers raised by the monks in Thailand’s lush interior?
Petting the tiger; this photo will likely appear in my third book, The Long Way Back
Because I could not begin to answer the question posed by my friends, I invented a stock, smart-ass answer:“My favorite place is the one I haven’t been to yet.” Then I would add a few lines about my next dream destination, such as:“Right now, I’m researching Bhutan. I like the idea that they have a national happiness index. Instead of our GNP, they have a GHP. I want to check that out.”
Then we sold the boat. They say that the two happiest days in a sailor’s life are when he or she buys the boat, and when it is finally sold.
On the one hand, I am happy to know that Bliss is no longer pining for Gunter and me, her Captain and Navigator of years gone by. She is no longer alone. Now she has other masters to care for: a family of four traveled from England to France to make her their home. They sailed her across the Atlantic to the Caribbean, as we did during our Maiden Voyage. Anticipating new adventures to come, enthused about new places to discover, they settled in. They learned to use her high-tech systems, evaluated her strength, and tested her resolve to keep them safe and secure, just as she did for us.
On the other hand, I’m sure of this: despite achieving my mission of sailing around the world, I’m still affected with wanderlust. I must continue to travel! I just may go around the world again, this time by air, land and sea. There might even be a few elephants, camels, mules and trains—and who knows what else—thrown into the mix. But it won’t be the same; this much I know. Any other mode of transportation from now on will be just that—mere transportation.
Because now I realize that this question is all wrong. It’s not about the people, places, flora, and fauna I loved, after all. It’s about who took us there. Pacific Bliss is where I left my heart.
About the Author: Lois and Günter Hofmann lived their dream by having a 43-foot ocean-going catamaran built for them in the south of France and sailing around the world. Learn more about their travel adventures by reading Lois’s award-winning nautical adventure trilogy. Read more about Lois and her adventures at her website and stay in touch with Lois by liking her Facebook page. Lois’s books can be purchased from PIP Productions on Amazon.
SailorsTales 