We're currently moored 7 miles west of Noumea, at the tiny island of Ile Laregnere, one of many small island playgrounds out here, dense with local boats and cruisers alike. This whole area is "a boater's paradise," Allan notes -- easy sailing in calm, reef-protected waters, short distances between tiny islands with white-sand beaches and beautiful snorkeling. Mooring balls abound at these islands thanks to the well- managed protection of the reefs and lagoons in New Caledonia. Dropping an anchor on a pristine reef can cause major damage to the coral and plant life, and by providing moorings the damage is mitigated. And apparently, they mean business. Just a few minutes after settling in, a big, new, yellow boat cruised by, checking us out, with "Protection du Lagon" blazoned across the side. A few minutes later he was off at full speed, no doubt in hot pursuit of a potentially evil reef criminal.

Allan dug out his windsurfing gear, and by the time we had it all put together the wind had died. So he's back, reading for an hour or so in the hopes it picks up again.

Our last few days have been characteristically full. We took the bus out to the Tjibaou Cultural Center, an unusual piece of Italian architectural artwork built in the late 1990's in honor of the famous Kanak freedom-fighter Jean Marie Tjibaou, who was assassinated in 1988. Common opinion amongst those of us who have made it to the center is that it's beautiful, but feels empty, lacking. We all left without knowing much about Kanak culture at all. There are some nice features to the place, for example a pretty walk around the grounds that showcases indigenous plants and their medicinal and spiritual value. A wonderful library sits in the middle of the center, so if you really want to dig, you can no doubt find lots of information on the Kanaks, although nobody was in there. There are a few traditional 'case,' tall, pointy grass huts, but no attending information on them. But in all, we enjoyed the outing on a cool, misty day, the bus ride across town was fun, and I got some very good pictures of the rather sci-fi-looking structures.

Yesterday we busted out of the marina, which is a bit stinky, and had a nice day moored at a closer island, Ile Maitre, (22 19' 99S 166 24' 51E) another weekend mecca of fishing boats and pleasure craft out for a sunny day on the water. We did some snorkeling, the first time since we left Fiji, and as always, it was refreshing and reinvigorating. We were back in the marina in time to have dinner with a couple we met here in Noumea, Thierry and Martine, and here comes a FaceBook story:

I like to bash Face Book, I do have a Facebook account, but for me it's annoying. But I can't knock it's effectiveness at getting people together. Allan has been in contact with a college friend of his in Minnesota, who spent his high school years in Noumea. When he heard we were sailing this way, he asked his Noumean friends if anyone was interested in welcoming us to town and maybe giving us some pointers, well -- actually, I don' t know what he said, but the bottom line is, only one person volunteered, and ironically, she and he had only just reconnected a few months prior thanks to good ol' Face Book. So we've had the good fortune of meeting Martine and Thierry, 5th generation French New Caledonians who've been gracious and fun. We had them over to the boat for aperitifs the other night, and then joined them for dinner at their home last night. We had a lovely evening at their 100-year old farmhouse on the edge of town, a big, open space with high ceilings, wonderful art, and best of all, lots of dogs and cats. Oh no, best of all, Thierry plays guitar and sings, and I had a great time pretending I can sing too, as we dredged up old Beatles and Simon Garfunkel and Bob Dylan songs. The other best thing was the dinner Martine cooked -- a marvelous Vietnamese chicken with some delicious local foods. We hope to have a little more time to visit with them before we head off to Australia.

Which brings me to the next topic: the Weather Window. Gloria on Paikea Mist did a whole blog on the WW, and I should really just point you to it, she did a great job. But nah, I'll give it a go myself: this time of year, especially, as we near hurricane season and the weather systems come at closer intervals, and are often fast and unpredictable, it's imperative to get good, and frequent weather briefings from multiple sources. So we do that, plus using Bob McDavitt in New Zealand, the cruisers resource for weather and routing in this part of the world. With a fleet of boats all ready to make the crossing, there's heightened interest in the weather everyday, and we all share what we know and how we interpret things. And we give each other the Bob Report. "Bob says ..." So the latest is that Bob says there's a big low pressure thingy forming off the coast of Australia that's going to wreak a little havoc. The GRIB files indicate a messy series of wind arrows going in all directions on different days and at high speeds, circling around as the low moves east. It's not a pretty sight, so we'll hang out. Looks like a week or more for all that to clear, and then who knows how big that Weather Window will be when it appears, so we have to be ready to move.

It's now Monday morning. We moved yesterday evening back to Ile Maitre to join friends on Totem, Victoria, IO, and Merlin, all but IO are "kid boats." We picked up the mooring just in time to be visited by a boatload of casually costumed trick-or-treaters, armed with pillowcases and dry bags and all manner of candy-collecting receptacles. Luckily, I was prepared for this onslaught and had a bowl of candy waiting to share. Greg on Merlin invited us to join them for a Halloween party. Merlin is a beautiful South African catamaran with a family of 5 on board, bound for Australia. Catamaran's are perfect boats for families, big, with lots of nooks and crannies and literally room to run on deck. The adults clumped around the large cockpit table discussing fishing, weather, and techniques for making green skin for Halloween costumes out of sunscreen and food dye, while the kids -- 10 in all, ranging in age from 4 to 11 -- counted their booty and watched "It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown." Then, an energetic game of tag/hide-and-seek/chase ensued (the game kept changing,) and kids were zipping around in the dark: over the bows, across the trampoline, down the sides, through the cockpit, round the table, into the hulls. Kids everywhere, I was waiting for a big splash, but none of the other parents were the least bit concerned. Kid boat parents, amazing people. We polished off bowls of spiced and candied nuts, pizza, tuna dip, pate, and cake with jelly beans and then headed off for an early bed.

The men are planning a bit of spear fishing today, a mile or so away and outside the protected area. I am planning nothing.