Around the world in 80 Days

Ten years. That's how long it has taken us to travel halfway around the world by boat.

Photo credit : Tony Sparks 

Eighty days. That's how long it took us to go completely around the globe by land and air.

Vienna: Where the Music Is in the Streets

After the contrasts and surprises of India and Istanbul, Vienna felt different almost immediately.

If you missed Vienna, Part 1, you can find it here: [link to Part 1]

The streets were wide and orderly, the gardens formal, the buildings grand, and there were bicycles everywhere. People sat on benches simply enjoying the day. I especially loved the mornings, when the air was cool and the streets were quiet before the city fully awakened.

And for me, Vienna had another quality that made it special.

Music was everywhere.

Vienna's Quiet Welcome

Vienna has been quietly showing up in my life for decades.

As a child taking piano lessons, Mozart was one of the first composers I learned about. Later, when I studied flute, Vienna continued to appear in the stories of composers whose music I loved. It was never a place I constantly dreamed about visiting, but it seemed to quietly weave itself through different parts of my life until, somehow, we finally found ourselves there.

Oddly enough, what struck me first wasn't the music.

It was the quiet.

Early morning cobblestones

Nomads, Homeless... or Somewhere in Between?

"Where are you from?" the rug seller asked.

We gave him our usual answer.

"Are you nomads?"

Bob and I looked at each other, shrugged, and nodded.

"Yes."

He paused for a moment before asking his next question.

"Are you homeless?"

Again, we looked at each other. Another shrug.

"No... not really."

Lessons Learned in India in 5 Days

Five days isn't enough to understand India. It's barely enough time to realize how little you understand it. Trying to describe India after traveling from New Delhi to Jaipur, Agra, and back to Delhi would be like someone trying to describe the United States after driving from New York City to Washington, D.C. You might notice a few patterns, but you've only scratched the surface. 

For Mom: Remembering Jane Hunt

My mother, Jane Amelia Henry Hunt, passed away recently. There are so many people whose lives were touched by her, and so many different versions of Jane that existed in the memories of those who loved her. She was a mother, grandmother, great-grandmother, wife, artist, advocate, traveler, mentor, and friend. She collected people, created beauty wherever she went, and built a family that extended far beyond those connected by blood.

I have been trying to find the right way to honor her. The closest I can come is to write to her.

The Beauty of Raja Ampat – Part 1, above water

When I last wrote about Raja Ampat, I focused on one of its less attractive features: plastic. Unfortunately, the problem is real and impossible to ignore. But it is only part of the story.

Bali, part 2 monkeys, markets and minor theft

Somewhere along the way, this visa run stopped feeling like bureaucracy and started feeling like an actual vacation. If you missed the earlier posts: This link follows our time in Western Australia and this link covers our first days in Bali.

Part 2 picks up just before the monkeys attempted to improve their hat collection.

The Sacred Monkey Forest Sanctuary was another highlight of our time in Ubud.

Bali, worth the visa run Part 1

Bali had been on our travel wish list for decades.

Back when we were teenagers, we used to hear stories about travelers renting one-dollar huts on the beach in Bali and living on almost nothing. At the time, this sounded less like a vacation and more like a financially realistic life plan. Those famous one-dollar beach huts no longer exist, and admittedly our standards have risen slightly over the years, but Bali still manages to feel surprisingly affordable.

Visa Run - A Necessary Part of Slow Travel

One of the less glamorous realities of slow travel is that eventually a country politely asks you to leave for a while.

Our Indonesian visas were expiring, so we had to leave Sorong, in far eastern Indonesia, and fly to another country while immigration processed our new visas. Since Sorong is not an international airport, this meant first flying all the way to Jakarta or to Bali before we could even begin the actual “leaving the country” part of the trip.

Singapore would have been the easiest option, but having already been there several times, we decided this was our chance to explore someplace new. We chose Western Australia and flew into Perth for what would become a ten-day visa run adventure.

The tricky part was timing. Indonesian immigration estimated six to seven business days to process the visa. Estimated being the key word there. We had to decide how long to stay, when to buy return tickets, and how much faith to place in government paperwork moving efficiently. In the end we bought the tickets and hoped optimism would prove to be a sound travel strategy.

Sunlight, Coral and the Plastic Tide

 Years ago, when we first began cruising, a dear friend, Elissa, asked whether we encountered much plastic during our passages. At the time, I confidently told her, “No.”

Recently, I messaged her again: I’ve found the plastic. It’s in Indonesia.

The day we were invited to plant a "pinus"

 

Leaving the village of Dai, we pointed Rhapsody north toward Raja Ampat, with a planned stop in the town of Bula on the next island north. Having just come from Fiji, the name made me smile. In Fiji, “Bula!” is everywhere, called out across streets, offered in passing, delivered with a grin. It means welcome, hello, life itself. The Indonesian town of Bula, however, does not share that particular meaning. Still, as it turns out, the spirit wasn’t entirely absent.

Small Boats, Big Generosity

From the moment we arrived in Indonesia, our interactions with people have been overwhelmingly positive. Smiles, waves, curious glances, and a general sense that we are welcome and yet unusual. We are not common objects here. This is especially true of Bob, whose height appears to exist outside the local range of expectations. There have been comments. There has been pointing and furtive glances. We are definitely noticed.

After checking in at Tual, we headed north, hoping to keep our sailing days short and safe.  The plan was island-to-island hops, minimizing overnight passages and maximizing daylight, sanity, and sleep. We did our usual research, cross-checking notes, cruising guides, and the informal but deeply influential “what other cruisers say.”

One nearby island initially looked perfect. Easy distance, straightforward sail. Then we read the reports. Let’s just say the reviews were… energetic. We quietly decided that while we enjoy cultural exchange, we prefer the kind that does not involve uninvited boarding and aggressive fundraising. So we kept looking.

That’s how Gorong Island entered the picture.

It was a little farther than planned, but still manageable. The reviews were good, ironically written by friends of ours on the boat Second Set, which felt reassuring. We didn’t know much about what to expect, but we liked the idea of finding out.

We arrived in the morning and anchored off the village of Dai. We never went ashore, which is why my description of the village will remain deliberately vague. It existed as a shoreline, a collection of buildings, a place where canoes emerged and returned, and a backdrop of daily life we observed from the water, adding the sounds of the Muslim call to prayer several times a day.

Passage to Indonesia — Part 5 Arrival

Leaving Enu, the boat still had issues. 

(Click here if you missed part 4)

Not loud ones, just enough to keep us paying attention. The engine sputtered and cut out shortly after we weighed anchor, a signal that immediately erased any illusion that we were finished troubleshooting. Fortunately, we were still in shallow water. We dropped the anchor, bought ourselves time. We had changed the filters while at anchor, and bled the air, as usual from the fuel lines. Obviously we had not cleared all the air out from both filters. 

Success

Until it happened again.

And again.

Each time, the routine became more practiced: anchor down, engine off, tools out, filters swapped, air bled, hands smelling of diesel. Between attempts, there was patience instead of panic. We had learned that much, at least.

Eventually, the engine settled into a steady rhythm, and this time it stayed there. We were finally on our way.

Passage to Indonesia — Part 4 Enu

Enu wasn’t on the plan.

It wasn’t a waypoint, or a penciled-in stop, or a place we had talked about in our planning. It appeared only after we began looking, not for progress, but for pause.

Passage to Indonesia — Part 3. When the Boat Objects

By the third day of the crossing, our world had contracted, not in distance, we were still covering miles, but in focus. What mattered now was how the boat was moving, how the sea was behaving, and how much attention everything required. Wind and current were no longer aligned, and the motion reflected that disagreement. The bow lifted, hesitated, then dropped, again and again. Not dramatic. Just relentless.

(If you missed part one or two click here.)

A few of the many fishing boats we passed. This time in daylight and they were visible.

Passage to Indonesia — Part 2. The Glow on the Horizon

 If there is one thing that became clear early in this passage, it’s that night changes everything.  (If you missed part 1, click here)

The first evening after leaving Australia gave us our introduction. The western horizon glowed, not like stars or constellations, but like a distant city at sea. A low, steady brightness spread across the darkness, far too expansive to be natural.  Based on the scale of the glow, we assumed it was a Chinese fishing fleet. There were more than fifty boats in that one area alone, with other clusters scattered farther west.

Passage to Indonesia — Part 1 Late Season, Open Water

I began this passage from Australia to Indonesia with more trepidation than usual. That alone should have been a clue.

There were reasons, of course. There always are. We were leaving Australia fully inside cyclone season, which officially runs from November 1 to April 30. By late December, we weren’t at the tail end or even the shoulder, we were squarely in it. Late enough that people paused when we mentioned our plans. Late enough that the weather patterns had shifted from helpful to unfriendly. Winds that had once been behind us were now firmly in our face. Currents, too, would be working against us. On paper, it was not the right time to make this passage.

Australian Wildlife: From Adorable to Mildly Terrifying

One of the great joys of our time in Australia was meeting an entirely new supporting cast of animals. Some were impossibly cute, some were loud and opinionated, and some existed mainly to remind us why Australians read warning signs very carefully. This is a mostly pictorial roundup, with just enough words to prove I was paying attention.

The Cute Stuff (Lulling You Into a False Sense of Security)

The freedom of having a car (at least for a while)

 

Ocean Freedom vs Shore Reality

People talk about the freedom of the open ocean, free to go anywhere, depending on the wind, the waves, the currents and the tides. This is true, we do experience this, but as soon as we go ashore our world shrinks dramatically. Whether we go ashore by dinghy or we are at a dock in a marina, our range suddenly becomes “anything within walking distance,” which, depending on the temperature and how many groceries we need, can be extremely negotiable.

One of the joys of renting a car is getting to search out waterfalls, it gives us great pleasure.