round we go!!

Vessel Name: Bubbles
Vessel Make/Model: Fast Passage 39
Hailing Port: Seymour IN
17 September 2012 | Nanny Cay, Tortola, BVIs
22 July 2012
10 June 2012 | St. Martin
04 June 2012 | St. Martin
31 May 2012 | Saba Rock
19 May 2012 | english harbour, antigua
07 May 2012 | Bridgetown, Barbados
27 April 2012 | Georgetown, Guyana
22 April 2012 | Paramaribo, Suriname
19 April 2012 | French Guyana
13 April 2012 | Atlantic Ocean somewhere off of South America
08 April 2012 | Amazon River, Macapa, Brazil
01 April 2012 | Amazon River, Brazil
30 March 2012 | Tapajos River, Brazil
28 March 2012 | Amazon River, Brazil
21 March 2012 | Xingu River, Brazil
20 March 2012 | Amazonia, Brazil
18 March 2012 | Para River, Brazil
18 March 2012 | Belem, Brazil
13 March 2012 | Capim River, Brazil
Recent Blog Posts
17 September 2012 | Nanny Cay, Tortola, BVIs

The final blog, Bubbles sold yesterday

First lets go back to that week in May in the British Virgin Islands… we had over 20 sparkling crew on board Bubbles (all wearing the coral crew shirts) approaching the round-the-world finish line at Nanny Cay. With only a few hundred feet to go the propeller fell off. Not being able to raise sail [...]

22 July 2012

the last leg sail

We had good wind on the morning we set sail to complete the 90 mile last leg (from St. Martin to Tortola in the British Virgin Islands) of Bubble’s circumnavigation. With a full boat, I was on deck explaining some navigational markers to some of the more virgin crew when Trevor at the helm yelled [...]

10 June 2012 | St. Martin

Magic Aboard Bubbles

That night in St. Martin the party aboard Bubbles can only be described as magical. With Christmas lights strung up both in the rigging to light the deck, and in the interior to light below, a special glow illuminated the boat that had carried us around the world. Paddy King lead a conga line of Bubbles [...]

04 June 2012 | St. Martin

The Round the World Pre Party Begins!!

The seven of us woke well before sunup to the Indiana Jones theme song cranked over the Bubbles sound system. Sails were up by sunrise with Paddy King at the helm and brother Joe standing by as we watched the morning light illuminate mountainous Saba's cliffs rising from the sea. With 20 knots of wind [...]

31 May 2012 | Saba Rock

the Sea Hawk 4 takes flight

The day sail to Barbuda was sunny with good wind and buzzing excitement from both new crew and old. Arriving in the poorly charted waters we ran aground, but jumping into a shallow sea full of starfish isn't a bad place to get stuck. Ashore the six of us strolled on an endless beach of pink sand with [...]

19 May 2012 | english harbour, antigua

Adding more Bubbles

Bubbles and crew ran completely broke of funds after Carine flew back to Amsterdam. Having neither cash nor credit via any type of card, Diego and I resorted to trading. For a couple dive tanks we got the jib sail repaired, for a regulator we got fresh produce out of a local garden. We were able [...]

sepik day 9 through 11 croc hunting

12 December 2010 | sepik river, papua new guinea
reed whiting
We dropped Alex off in Pagwi and with Mr. Mobo gone and back in the hands of the friendly villagers we felt safe. That night was another tough night of Croc hunting in which we wasted a container of gas chasing 3 ft crocs, I had to make a tough decision. Swagup was 7 hours up the river and chock full of Crocs, and I knew that was my best chance to get one killed. The only problem was I only had 2 days to get it done, and the cost of gas would be outrageuos. This was one of those situations in life when you know the right thing to do is stay put and dont try to throw some last chance trip together, but I couldnt help myslef and made the decision to head to Swagup in the morning.

It poured for the first few hours of daylight, which postponed the voyage in our 10 meter wood canoe. As I laid there in the early morning light listening to the rain pound the sailboat I wondered how uncomfortable it would be to be stuck in one of those dugout canoes in rain like this. Little did I know I was soon to find this out.

The drive up went great. We made good time and were nearing Swagup around dark. Well at least the guide thought we were. When we stopped to ask a women on the bank for directions I had a feeling this night was turning for the worst. We had to back track a couple hundred meters to take a different brach up the river and we then continued for what seemed to be an hour, until the guys stopped the boat and said we may need to turn back as they did not know where Swagup is. Ill admit at first I was a bit rattled, with all the expense going into this trip, only to have my first avaialable night of hunting go down the drain.

Worrying about hunting quickly wore off as I realized that we really have no where to go for the night and I was accepting the fact that the bottom of the wood canoe might actually make a decent bed at this point in time. We drove in circles for about an hour, as I listened to my half ass guide and his assitant try and work things out. Finally I had to take control of the situaiton and force them to head back downstrem the way we came and find the first village we can sleep at. At this point I could barely keep my eyes open and once I figured we were headed back I passed out in the boat. The pouring rain woke me up and shortly after we were pulling up on a pitch black bank to join a family in their fishing village at around midnight. I was in a absolute daze and could care less where we were as long as I had some form of roof on my head and a mosquito net. We set up shop under a small thatch hut and I was out cold.

I woke up early the next morning to the smiles of 6 children staring at me through my mosquito net. A white man sleeping in there home would be like us seeing a Alien back in the states. They were in awe of me and watched every move I made. I dipped in my bag and grabbed them all chewing gum and baloons and also gave them a tennis ball to share. It amazes me everytime I give things to these kids how excited they become at such a simple gift. Seeing their never ending smiles that morning made the living nightmare of the night before seem irrelavant. After trying to polish off my plate full of enough yams to feed a high school football team, we were back on the river and hopefully headed to Swagup.

The village of Swagup was tucked back off the main river and it was easy to see how we missed it the night before. Upon entering the small stream running through the village we were greeted by a plethora of smiles and waving hands. We walked the entire village and sat and told stories in the spririt house for an hour or so as I tried to figure out the hunting situation. They were telling me that daylight is the best time to kill a Croc, which was news to me, but I was willing to try anything at this point as I was down to my last chance to get the job done. We made plans for a late afternoon hunt and I then set shop in one of the villagers houses. We did some trading and I entertained a group of kids in the house until I laid down for my pre hunt nap.

We hit the river around 4 and headed upstream to see the crocs float as the locals called it. We set up in the tall weeds on the edge of a large eddy in the river and within minutes we saw a dandy. After all this time it was finally coming together, I felt very confident I could kill this Croc, but then one of my huntoing partners said that one was too big. TOO BIG? Thats not in my huntng vocabuylary so I had to clarify this. "So you mean I cant shoot this one"? YES, you cant. This was the first time I heard this all week after hunting with 3 other tribes, I was shocked and it really took the thrill out of the whole Croc hunt. They said the largest I could shoot was 6 ft long and I was not to interested in that at all and that would be a very immature animal. We sat in the back for another hour and watched another Croc around 18 ft come in and out of view multiple times. I wanted nothing more than to put an arrow in this puppy and let the fight unfold, but no we has to wait for the right size. No thanks.

We still went on a night hunt and lined the same night as the last 3 again, seeing tons of crocs, but never getting close enough to do any good. A few hours into the night I was getting tired of the hunt and told the guys to head back. I guess head back to them meant to turn around and slowly hunt for two more hours and that is when all hell broke loose. The storm I feared came in on us fast and within seconds we were all soaked, cold, and miserable and still 1 hours from the village. It was a rough ride back, and thank god I had a rain coat, because if not I may have gotten Hypothermia on this one. We got in about midnight and I was out in seconds upon crawling into my bed.

We left for Yenchen early in the morning and unfortunately I didnt have the grace of cloud cover on this day and the sun beat down on my pale skin for 7 hours straight as I had no where to hide. I cant say my little side trip was a complete waste of time, as I met so many great people and made it a bit of adventure, but this is one adventure I wouldnt want to do all over again. Once we were back I rounded up Ben and we were off towards Angoram to pick up our long lost friend Alex Rust.
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