Nov 12

Written by:
11/12/2010 8:40 AM 

My head is thick and my thoughts are as slow as the molasses the rum we’ve been drinking is made from. Jargo is sandwiched on one side by Juan Valdez and on the other by Cornbread. For the sake of VHF radio communications I only answer to Pepe Lopez, a name taken from a cheap Mexican tequila. Once again I’ve set a bad example and all my travelling companions and I are here illegally. Juan Valdez is a 41 foot sloop better known as the s/v One Flew Blew and Cornbread, a 39 foot Fast Passage, usually answers to Mooneshine. Here in the Hapai group of Tonga there are few authorities, but we don’t flaunt our presence, hence the pseudonyms.

Jargo, a.k.a. Pepe Lopez, has become the party boat of the week. Normally, as a single hander, I get invites to other peoples boats and take them up on the offers. As it turns out, the weather hasn’t been great this week and this old Allied Mistress has more interior room than my two buddy boats. The iPod is always turned up loud, the cabin sole takes a beating from dancing feet, and we’ve had several long nights. It feels like the boat that I’ve loved for taking me safely across the Pacific is suddenly getting pumped full of life. I don’t know why I’ve hesitated to have people over before this, but Jargo has become the host boat and it is great fun.

We are in Tonga late in the season and cyclones are a real threat, but the advantage is that we have these amazingly beautiful islands all to ourselves. Most cruisers avoid this island group like the plague, but for the adventuress spirit you can find unspoiled white sand beaches and living coral unlike anything I’ve come across in the Pacific. All crews combined we number seven and we own this stretch of water, beach, and coral. The thrill of cruising has returned now that I’ve ventured off the Coconut Milk Run with friends as keen to make first tracks on white sand as I am.

When the sun, stars, and moon cooperate we light beach bonfires and roast hot dogs until the wee hours. When the elements transpire to keep us inside we dance, drink, and sing in the salon of Jargo. Returning home at the end of a session we’ve taken to firing off all of our expired flares just for the sake of watching them burn. Scarily, not one of my expired flares has worked. Note to self: stock up on recently made flares in New Zealand.

Over the next few days we’ll make our way down to Tongatapu and the capital of Tonga in Nuku Alofa. We are all still planning the big jump to New Zealand, but we’ve lost the urgency. Eventually a weather window will show itself and we’ll make a run for it. Until then, I think we’ll continue to dance, sing, and surf. Every now and then in life things transpire for the good. When they do, shut up and enjoy them. That’s my plan for the foreseeable future. . - Pepe Lopez, Out.