IS THIS BAD LUCK?
	
On 8 September last year I departed (with my friend Phil) for my first overseas cruise on my first yacht. It was meant to be a one to two year cruise around north and south Pacific. Two months later I found myself sitting in Breakwater Marina in Townsville. Some thieves in PNG had walked in to my unlocked and unguarded yacht in the dark and helped themselves with over $6000 worth of equipment and our $800 cruising kitty, while we were playing pool with some local boys. With hardly any equipment and no money left, we had to end the cruise and return to Australia.  I felt pretty down in Townsville. A cask of wine compensated for the stolen equipment. It had taken me eight years to realise my cruising dream. Eight pillows on my bed compensated for the lost marriage. (Much softer than a woman, but not as unpredictable...) Evenings with the wine were fine, but in the mornings I had a hard time trying to find a reason to get out of bed. I was planning to sell the boat. But there's no need for your sympathy. I've picked myself up. I'm much better now. I'll keep the boat too.

Some people like to think that I was a little stupid. I should have had insurance. All seem to agree that I should lock the boat and not trust other people too much. I disagree. I wouldn't do anything differently. If not being stupid, surely one would say that I was unlucky. I'm not sure about that either. Liehtse, a Taoist philosopher tells a story and shares my views on being lucky:

An Old Man was living with his son at an abandoned fort on the top of a hill, and one day he lost a horse. The neighbours came to express their sympathy for this misfortune, and the Old Man asked, "How do you know this is bad luck?" A few days afterwards, his horse returned with a number of wild horses, and his neighbours came again to congratulate him on this stroke of fortune, and the Old Man replied, "How do you know this is good luck?" With so many horses around, his son began to take to riding, and one day he fell and broke his leg. Again the neighbours came around to express their sympathy, and the Old Man replied, "How do you know this is bad luck?" The next year, there was a war, and because the Old Man's son was crippled, he did not have to go to the front...

Back to Papua New Guinea and Misima Island. We are perhaps in the safest area in PNG, the Louisiades. We had learned a fair bit of local language and in Bwagaoia harbour everyone was our 'brother'. On the night of the theft all that changed. I experienced a part of me that I have never seen before. After seeing my ransacked boat, I was ready to kill. We woke up the police at his home in the middle of the night. We spent a blurry two hours at the harbour, screaming and crying. One of our friends, Ishmael, who had been onboard earlier that day acted very suspiciously. He became our suspect number one. We pulled him aside and gave him some serious talks. The police locked him up while he was crying innocence through the cell window. The whole community around us followed the drama. At the time this cruise was my life, and I felt that life had just ended. 

Three days later the police had not started any investigations. I hoisted a pirate flag and Phil and I started to take over. In a raging tantrum I pulled out a knife waving it at the police chief's face threatening to "f****g rip someone's head off". He just looked at me and smiled. Phil threw his share of abuse to another police officer in an argument concerning Phil letting himself in the interrogation room to intimidate Ishmael. We spread rumours about our friends in Sydney who are part of a Lebanese Mafia. We told they are on their way and that's when things will get real nasty. We were acting a play if intimidation, but got no results.  I learned about the significance of black magic when planning to use it to scare one suspect. In ten minutes I would have had any dead animals and other paraphernalia to perform my spells and I even had people willing to pay for a real black magic person to do it for me. 

It was a frustrating week, with no results in getting any stolen items back. But I experienced more life that I had in the last year of 'normal life'. I discovered and experienced feelings of loss, anger, hatred, passion and compassion like never before. I saw my character transform into a monster while every one that I had been calling a 'brother' became a potential suspect. Sleepless nights. I made terrible threats to Ishmael and at the end I couldn't bear the thought of him being innocent. But he may have been. We will never know.

As we ceased to be just "another waga dimdim" (yacht), the whole Misima got to know us well. I learned many things about law enforcement in rural PNG. We received gifts from ordinary people and the local bakery stopped charging me for bread.  I rowed the chief into the yacht to investigate our noodles (yes, noodles). The police had found a packet of noodles in the bush and wanted to see if they are the same brand than those onboard 'Aliisa'. It turned out that the chief wanted to have three cups of coffee, some cigarettes and tell fishing stories. He turned out to be the grand master in the art of dribbling shit. During our own investigations I got to thoroughly inspect some very interesting local cargo boats. There are hundreds of little memories that will stay with me forever. Like the telephone that kept ringing in the back office of the police station. When I asked why no one ever answered it, they told me that the room where the telephone is was locked and the officer who's got the key has gone to Alotau for a holiday. Or how Ishmael was kept in the police chief's office with the door locked from the inside. The chief had to ask Ishmael to let him in if he needed to get into his office!

A week later we had no suspect, no lead and not a trace of any stolen items. I started to loosen up. I wrote in my diary: "Good stuff this is. Material. Material for Life" We spent our last money on a bag of Milo and a tub of butter, picked the anchor and sailed away to Townsville. 

What more can I say? The events in PNG turned out to be an adventure extraordinaire. The personal feelings, the meeting and experiencing the Papuans and their life, all made me a wealthier person. The stolen goods will get lost, re-stolen, deteriorate and so on. Our stolen money will get spent. But my experience will stay with me forever. And it is the experiencing of life's adventure that makes me rich. I'm looking forward to a rich life. Therefore I will continue to cruise uninsured, and I will continue to trust people. I will continue to invite locals onboard. I will continue to expose myself to life with open arms. I will continue to make local friends in faraway countries. Every now and again someone is likely to abuse my trust. But it's worth it. Looking back, I have no regrets, and I wouldn't do anything differently. Maybe next time I can experience some other type of adventure. Bad weather, breakdowns, injuries, perhaps losing the whole yacht. How do you know it's bad luck? I can't wait to go again!

You can read a more detailed story of the events, as well as a cruising guide to PNG on my home page: www.cruiser.co.za/hostaliisa.asp
The site www.cruiser.co.za is well worth having a look, if you are interested in cruising and want to get in touch with cruisers around the world.
(Lauri Strengell 2002