Tales of the Sea

First Tale: The Tall Team

After two months of practicing, the Tall Team paddling team was finally unleashed on the international paddling circuit. The yacht club held the annual Moso'oi Regatta last weekend and we were able to test our mettle against Samoan, American Samoan, and Tahitian teams. Despite our height advantage we pretty much got smoked. Here is our coach John and our captain Doug discussing our shellacking.
The regatta was Friday and Saturday and consisted of a number of races of varying distances. Below is Tall Team after our 10K on Friday. The look on the faces of #1 and #2 pretty much sums up the race: pain. Despite a lack of first place finishes, we stayed competitive throughout and are looking forward to races in November.
Second Tale: Night of the Living Palolo

I have lived in and visited other tropical islands but never experienced anything quite like the palolo. Let me try to explain the palolo: once a year, the palolo worm, which normally lives quietly in the coral of Samoa, decides to spawn. Around 1:30 in the morning the palolo detaches its backside from its body, the back end of the worm then swims in the water unleashing sperm and eggs. The water basically fills with a swarm of worms, mucous, sperm, and eggs. The Samoan then trek into the water to catch the worms, which are eaten raw or cooked with eggs or served on toast. For a more detailed accounting of the palolo phenomenon, click here. Here's a picture of some palolo hunters:

So myself and other palagis headed to the beach on Tuesday and Wednesday night to catch palolo. Sure enough, the water was full of them. We caught a few but there were people filling up coolers worth of palolo. Supposedly, you can sell them for a pretty penny on the palolo black market. The palolo mating dance:

A weird and wacky two nights. Image I stole from the Internet of a Samoan going to town on a handful of palolo:
Final Tale: Jellyf**ked
Thursday at paddling practice was a "long day" where we take the boat all the way out of the harbor and about a 1/2 to 3/4 mile of the coast. Usually the long day is fun because we get to paddle over larger ocean waves that we don't normally experience just sprinting around the harbor. We made it to the half way point and stopped for a rest. While sitting in the ocean and enjoying the view of the harbor, a wave tipped the outrigger over and poured Tall Team into the ocean. As I went into the water I remembered Dr. Dave saying, as we shoved off, that we didn't have a bailer with us. This wouldn't have been such a big problem if we had been in the still waters of the harbor. So we were going to have to right the boat in the ocean and then bail with our hands.

This also wouldn't be a big problem if we hadn't also tipped the boat into a smack of jellyfish. In the whole of the ocean we tipped right into, what my unscientific research uncovered was, cyanea lamarcki. I have been tickled by jellyfish before in Zanzibar but this was pretty painful: a sharp sting followed by a hot burning feeling. Jumping into the half-submerged boat I had tentacles wrapped around my calf, thumb, and stuck to my back. Removing the tentacles was equally as pleasant as then my fingers were stung. Expletives were shouted and God may have been cursed. The sting was quickly replaced by what felt like second degree burns. I also had fun tentacle griddle marks on me that made me look like a paddling Mayor McCheese, which are still with me today.

So for the next 20 minutes, we bailed the boat with our hands, until a wave swamped the boat again. More hand bailing and a dark trip back to the yacht club. Neptune did not favor the Tall Team that day.