Living on Island Time

Direction Island, Cocos Keeling Islands It's not hard to slip right into island life and live on island time for awhile. In fact, we have! Despite chores to be done and initially feeling stressed about getting things done and moving on quickly, we've taken to island time just fine.

We wake and rise early … with the sun … but the rest of the day seems unhurried. We get things done, it just seems to take longer than usual. A typical day for us at the moment? I'll share, but if you hold a 9-5 job or if you're a high energy sort of person, you might not get it.

Morning chores for me consist of laundry which has soaked overnight in a bucket, dishes from last night's dinner and writing for at least an hour or so. David usually downloads emails from SailMail and picks up the weather while I'm finishing up my chores, then we have a cuppa together in the cockpit. We enjoy the mornings … they're relaxed and quiet. No dinghies zipping around the anchorage; no VHF chatter. We sip a cup or sometimes two and chat and plan our day. This morning ritual can last anywhere from 20 minutes to 2 hours, depending on our plans for the day or if we're having a good conversation and time gets away from us. Actually, time seems less relevant here.

We've been planning an “excursion” every other day. One day to Home Island to explore; one day for working on the whisker pole; one day for snorkeling on the reef; one day to take down the jib and repair it and replace it with the yankee; one day to take the ferry to West Island; one day for cleaning the boat and getting her in shape for another long passage; one day for walking the Direction Island Heritage Trail. An excursion might last anywhere from a couple of hours to a whole day and we plan chores around this accordingly. On non-excursion days, we still dinghy into Direction Island to walk a bit and take a break from our projects. Sometimes we bring in our breakfast and insulated mugs with tea or coffee and just sit and enjoy the day from another vantage point or chat with fellow cruisers. Sometimes we just walk the beach. There are no rules.

Lunch is something light. If David's working on a project, he'll stop every once in a while for a cuppa and perhaps have a sandwich. We eat when we're hungry rather than a designated time. Sometimes dinner's at 9pm; other times it's at 4pm. We've been known to have just a big batch of popcorn for dinner.

We often take afternoon siestas, especially in the heat of the day when working on deck is just too hot and working below doesn't appeal either. These afternoon reprieves are guiltless and refreshing. Taking a cool dip in the lovely Cocos waters has been a wonderful late afternoon ritual that we look forward to. After we dry off, it's time for sundowners … one of David's homemade brews or a glass of wine. We like to watch the sunsets.

Evenings begin when the sun goes down. In the tropics, that's about 6:30pm. David checks e-mails and weather once again, while I make dinner. We take turns choosing a movie from our huge hard drive collection. Perhaps, we prefer to read some evenings or play a card game or do all of the above. Wind power here has been no issue, so we've been free to use our computers and watch movies and listen to music and run the watermaker to our heart's content.

Soon we'll be back on passage. Three hour watches … 24x7, conserving water and power. About 2,000 nm to Rodrigues Island where we can lapse into island time again for a brief time.

Walking the Heritage Trail

Direction Island, Cocos Keeling Islands

From our new neighborhood, access to shore is pretty easy … almost swimmable. After the initial euphoria of having wifi aboard wore off, we decided to check out Direction Island a bit. We'd only seen the general landing area and ferry dock on our quick trip in earlier, we needed a good walk and some exercise after our captivity.

The picnic area was busy with other cruisers. Some doing laundry; some typing away on laptops; others just lounging in hammocks, or swimming or chatting amiably. We noticed lots of boat signs had been tacked up to the beams of the picnic enclosure and to nearby palm trees. This was right up David's alley and he noted his intention to carve a Nine of Cups' boat sign to add to the others.

We noticed an info sign close by that showed a small map of the island with the Heritage Trail highlighted. Though Cocos Keeling had been primarily noted for its copra production, during both World Wars, these islands were strategic targets due to their location and the communication cable which operated here.

The first stop on the walk was a new gazebo which will be dedicated in 2014, celebrating Australia's first naval victory here when the HMAS Sydney outgunned the German raider Emden, the hulk of which still lies in the waters off North Keeling Island. (Not to be confused with the HMAS Sydney II which was sunk by a German raider in WWII and is remembered by the memorial we saw in Geraldton.) The gazebo will be dedicated in November 2014 with many dignitaries in attendance to mark its 100^th anniversary.

A well-groomed path quickly deteriorated into a palm frond /coconut strewn one that led us along the shore to the west end of the island.

Hundreds of hermit crabs scuttled along all around us, retreating into their shells as soon as we got too close. It appears they're quite fond of coconut and when they were feasting, they seemed oblivious to our presence, foregoing caution in favor of getting more coconut than their neighbor.

Along the path, informational signs provided historical insight into the communication station at Cocos, the Battle of Cocos (Emden vs Sydney), copra production and general life at an isolated island group. We enjoyed reading about the Cocos Barrel and tin-can mail, a unique way of receiving supplies and sending outgoing mail.

The path led us along the rugged northern shore, where the waves were high and the surf was up. We curved round to rejoin the main path back to our starting point and followed another to a viewing platform at the southeast end of the crescent-shaped island.

We walked back to the dinghy along the beach. The water felt great on our tired feet. Along the way, we spotted an elusive ghost crab, poking up out of his hole, giving us the once over before diving back for cover.

Hot and sweaty, we launched the dink and headed back to Cups. It took us a nanosecond to change into swim togs and dive into that invitingly cool, aquamarine water. No great whites to worry about … no stinging jellies … no drag-you-away current. Just luscious, refreshing tropical waters washing away all the heat and cares of the day.

Moving to the Inner Lagoon - Direction Island

Cocos Keeling Islands – Indian Ocean

After 10 days at sea and three days captive on Cups, it was time to make a break no matter how windy it was. We heard there was a ferry from Direction Island to West Island twice a week at 0830. We planned for the Thursday ferry and wanted to get to the island in plenty of time to catch it. The night before, we waited for what we thought sounded like a calm period and launched the dinghy which predictably wanted to fly away. David managed to keep it under control as I hoisted and lowered it with the windlass. Plop … splash … it was in the water. The locals, had they had a good view, would have enjoyed watching us try to capture the dingy hoist halyard which flew loose (my bad) in the wind and took several frustrating minutes to snag with the boat hook as it started to rain. One hand for the boat, one hand for yourself … where does the extra hand for holding on to the halyard come from?

The morning was very windy … how surprising... with a good chop on the water. David bailed remnants of torrential rains during the night from the dinghy and fueled up. We're still in the outer anchorage as no boats have left, so our trip was a 15-minute soaking wet one to the ferry dock. We had a dry bag packed with one of our laptops and a stick with photos to send to Gentry. No internet for two weeks has been a difficult challenge. The things we become accustomed to that soon become “necessities”.

Once ashore, we beached the dinghy on a fine sand beach and got our first look at Direction Island. Oh my, the island was a sight to behold. Several covered picnic areas looked inviting. There were hammocks strung between palm trees, a large cistern for catching rainwater, paths in all directions and the familiar tropical sound of a feral rooster crowing somewhere off midst the thick stand of palm trees. We were delighted to discover there was a pay-for-use internet hotspot right on Direction Island. We canned the ferry idea in favor of setting up our internet headquarters right here.

As always, things are easier said than done. We were able to access the Cocos Island Wifi system without a hitch. We filled in all the required info on the form and then it transferred us to PayPal to pay. “What's our PayPal password?”, David queried.

“Um, I'm not sure, try ...”, I replied, “it's in my notebook on board. It could be ….”, I offered, wracking my brain.

“Nope, could it be …?”. He entered another password, mistyped it and tried again.

“How about …?”, I suggested once again.

Well, this went on for a few more tries and no luck. We tried creating a new account, but it wouldn't let us with our current e-mail and credit card. Nothing left to do, but return to the boat and get the darned PayPal password and start again.

In the meantime, however, we took a good look at the anchorage area. We counted 28 boats, 18 with ARC burgees waving. We noticed a couple of boats had left … one, in particular, from a primo spot. Maybe it was time to move into the lagoon.

We launched the dinghy and sloshed our way back to the boat … much quicker with wind and waves behind us. We were so wet from the ride in, it made little difference. We had noted a couple of bombies on our way back and made a mental note to avoid them with Cups. As soon as we started the engine and began hoisting the anchor, the Federal Police showed up. They were cool … “Go anchor and we'll catch up with you in awhile.”.

A 10-minute, .6 nm move into the lagoon and what a difference. We anchored in 14' (4m) of the most brilliant turquoise water there ever was with an unadulterated view of palm trees ashore. I watched as the anchor dug in, I let out scope and the chain pulled taut. The friendly Federal Police showed up within a few minutes, apologized for the mix-up and completed paperwork in record time.

The best news of all? With our trusty old Alfa antenna, we can pick up the wifi signal on the boat AND I found the PayPal password. Life is good.