Yap and Palau

Kw and I spent a week or so in a couple small islands doing some diving/snorkeling and sightseeing. Yap is a small island in the Federated States of Micronesia. The Republic of Palau (independent since 1996 or so) is a group of islands world recognized as one of the best dive islands anywhere. Yap is much lesser known and much quieter but the diving is on par with Australia's Great Barrier Reef.

YAP
Yap was first, we flew direct from Guam and arrived an hour or so later. Yap is not a destination most people have heard of. With only Continental Airlines serving it, and only 3 times per week to Guam and 3 times per week to Palau, it is really just a stopover to and from Palau and Guam. A small handful of people get off and on in Yap, with most of the passengers just flying thru.

We spent just a couple days in Yap at a small 5 room inn called O'keefe's, and left wishing we had a couple more to spend. Yap is the most untouched piece of real estate I've ever visited. A Pacific island where there is just a few small places to rent rooms and a couple small restaurants around the dive dock. Being in Yap will give you the feeling of intruding upon a simpler time and a place, yet it is so welcoming that you can feel a connection with it from the first person you meet (after the Customs people).

We arrived late at night and the dive master/owner Dave from "Beyond the Reef" met us at the airport to make sure everything was set up for the next morning. BTR is friendly, experienced, very affordable, and knowledgeable. We asked to dive to see the famous manta rays. A 15 foot tip to tip span, the mantas have a prehistoricly large quality, and are as gentle as they are large. We saw one in the first 30 seconds of the dive and another 4 before the hour was up. They are mesmerizing to watch gliding effortlessly thru the water, just 10 feet from your mask. I'd do that dive again and again. The second dive would prove to be less relaxing.

We splashed into a site called Shark City. Not Shark Street or Shark Town....Shark City lived up to it's name. A heart pounding 13 sharks circled below the boat as contemplated the intelligence of this whole idea. Not surprisingly, I jumped in wide eyed and sucking down the air in my tank like an Irishman sucking down Guinness on Saint Patty's Day....which is a little funny 'cuz the 2 other people diving with us were honeymooning from Ireland.

I don't care how many times the dive guide said "Yap sharks are friendly"...they look at you and you know they are thinking "hmmmmm....is that guy a 2 bite or a 3 bite?" When there are 13 of them, you wonder which one of them is having a bad day and wants to take it out on a tourist. It was a great dive. I have no idea what it looked like, though. I think it was a steep wall, but all I could see were sharks. It was great though, because they didn't bite me or Katrina. I wasn't too concerned about the Irish couple.

We ended up back at the dock safe and sound, without any underwater pictures. You wouldn't be looking thru a camera lens either with that many sharks surrounding you. We did get a couple pics on the way back in...some cool looking boat and a baby manta ray playing at the surface of the water doing some loops.

We ate a fantastic dinner on a ship-restaurant and called it an early night.

The next day we were flying out late at night, and after breakfast, rented a car for a little island exploring. After driving around the island for a couple hours on mostly dirt roads and talking with a guy walking around his village with a machete, we had gotten a pretty good grasp of Yap. We had learned that it was mostly an agricultural society, and that there is alot of history to the native people (the stone money is awesome to see, and when you learn the story behind it, it is dumbfounding). We learned that there aren't really any jobs in Yap. If you do have a job, the going hourly rate is around $1 per hour and it is part time. Hopefully, you don't need to drive to work, because gas is $6 per gallon. You could end up working just to pay for your gas to get to and from work. This makes it silly for most village people to get a job in Colonia (where the dive shop is and the hotel and diners are). Outside of Colonia, there isn't a single business or restaurant that we saw. People fish, farm, and feed themselves. Just when we were finishing up with our island tour, something spectacular happened.

Driving down the road, we saw a village ceremony going on near the meeting house (village men's version of town hall). KW and I stopped and debated, once again, the intelligence of crashing this party. Much like with the sharks, we eventually jumped in. Knowing it could be days before anybody missed us, let alone found us, we were very cautious and respectful when approaching the gathering. We stood around the outskirts for a few minutes trying to blend in, which was pretty silly given that every head in the place seemed to turn and stare at us 2 whiteys as we slowly walked up. It wasn't long before a gentleman (he said his name was John...but I have my doubts) invited me over to sit and talk with the Chief. He told KW that she had to sit with the other women about 20 feet in front of, but not with, the men.

They wanted to make sure we had no cameras and made it clear this would not be appropriate. We didn't have it with us, but it was in the car. The Chief and John explained to me that we had crashed a Bamboo War Dance. Curious who they were going to war with, Chief explained that this dance was a village history of past wars. It was sacred to them and usually only village people allowed to view it. He wanted to know who sent us here, and I explained how we came about them. They don't want guests stopping by, but were very welcoming once they understood that we stumbled upon them. Kw and I watched the village history dancing before us thinking this is something that National Geographic would likely report about, if they knew where we were.

The Chief, John and I talked in broken English for an hour or so as the War Dance continued. We talked about so many things...but the short version is KW and were told to come back and stay as members of the village in their guest accomodations. He explained that as we had witnessed their history, it was our village now too. John said I have to come back so he can teach me to spear fish so I can feed my family :)....but don't tell anybody the name of their village because too many tourists will come, and they don't want them. I can't say I disagree.

I realize that certain experiences can't translate well thru a blog. Maybe if you could hear me tell it, rather than reading it, you could hear their sincerity coming through in my voice. Maybe I could try to tell you how I felt watching their War Dance unfold, yet not knowing the feeling of the villagers as they watched, or how I think one of the men made the new white guy the butt of a joke without him realizing it. Maybe KW could tell you about the children that wouldn't take their big white eyes off her light skin and her golden hair, and the grandma that wanted KW to sit closer. Maybe we could tell you all that, but vicariously through our story, you likely still wouldn't know how it felt no matter how well told the story was. I wish you could feel it though, because it was.... like...kind of....hmmmmm. Yeah, sometimes it just doesn't translate through a blog.

Palau
Leaving Yap with a promise to return, a new village to call "home", we boarded the flight to Palau.

Palau is a developing island nation, with unparalleled diving. Unfortunately, it also comes with some baggage. It's kinda dirty in Koror (the main town) with some good restaurants and a choice of several places to stay, but prostitution on the streets and Chinese massage parlors dotting the landscape.

Putting the seedy side out of mind, we pretty much got up early, dove, had a couple drinks and dinner and slept. It was so nice.
We dove with Sam's Tours out of Koror. Our dive guide was Daniel. Anything you wanted...from dinner recommendation to dive site suggestions and a little tour every trip out of the marina, Daniel made the vacation in Palau better than just diving.

Matt and Vicki joined us after the first day of diving and ended up convincing us to stay an extra couple days beyond our original plans. Of course, the quality of diving made the choice that much easier. I dove 4 consecutive days twice a day and three on the last day that included a cavern and a wreck. Needless to say, I was beat. Kw snorkeled everyday I dove, except one when she needed to catch her breath for a day. The last day we kayaked and snorkeled and wished we had dove again instead.

We dove at Dexter's Wall, Blue Corner, Big Drop, Blue Holes, Pelileu Express, Yellow Wall, Jellyfish Lake...which was alien-like freaky, Siaes Tunnel, ,Ulong Channel-famous from Survivor Micronesia, and finished up with a wreck from WWII with lots of explosives still on it. These dives all had some different twists. Some had big Green Sea Turtles, most had a couple sharks ranging from white tips, to black tips to the larger Gray sharks. Gorgeous corals and tons of colorful fish, a manta ray, the wreck dive and some caverns/caves to explore.

The diving was awesome, and the company we dove with was great. We met some really fun people (some from Cabo in Mexico, some from Windsor, Connecticut oddly enough), had some great local beer and slept alot.

Not the cultural experience of Yap, but a heck of a good time that we'd go back for again.

Once? Twice?1? Three Times!@%&*!??!!!!!!!!!!

Finally, the Guam National Triathlon Championship day had arrived. I had been training to do this Olympic distance race as a relay member of TEAM TRI-W. I was training hard for the bike portion for awhile, and my teammates Catherine-the swimmer- and Matt -the runner- were all well prepared as well.

We had sized up the competition over the previous few weeks and began to realize we could very likely win the Relay Division. I have been riding harder and faster out here in Guam than ever before, and Catherine is a former Clemson University swimmer with former swim students currently in the Olympic trials for Beijing. She also won the overall female Cocos Island Crossing race earlier this year. Matt is built to be a runner, and delivered on his prediction of 7min miles despite the absolutely grueling race course in the Guam mountains.
As a sidenote- a member of the AIR FORCE International Triathlon Team said it was the most difficult Olympic distance tri he'd ever seen. He travels the world doing them, so I guess he'd know. The ocean for the swim was very rough, the skies opened up a tropical deluge on the bike course, and the run was under a muggy oppressive sun. It doesn't get much better than that.

Race started early. 430 am wakeup. No sleep that night and ready to tear it up. My adrenaline had never been this high for a race.

Catherine hit the water to get the race started. She could've pulled a wakeboarder behind her. The ocean was very choppy, and several people abandoned, some in tears, before their swim was completed. She was the first of about 70 people out of the water. She had given our team the position of the leader on the course with a few minute head start going onto the bike portion.

She ran to the transition, tagged me and I was off on my shiny new carbon fiber bike. My adrenaline was pumping, and I felt sooo strong and confident. I made it about 15 feet before my rear tire blew. I was stunned. In utter disbelief, I stared at the flat tire in rage. Regaining my composure, I flipped the bike up, did a tube change and was off with several guys in front of me now on the course. I caught 3 of them very quickly as I channeled my rage into the bike. I flew by them like they were standing still, then a few more. I don't think my butt was in the saddle for the first 2 miles. Then, it started to pour rain. Tropical downpours are bad on a bike course when you can't see anything and are still pedaling the bike like you stole it. The roads were under as much as 3 inches of water in some spots....not to mention the roads are potholed and broken pavement in many areas to begin with.

At the halfway point, I was within 1:30 minute of the overall leader on the course and still feeling super strong. I was averaging around 22mph despite the rain and crappy road conditions. Inside the 6 mile to go point, I was within a short sprint of the Relay Division leader, maybe 1/8 mile at most. There were 3 of them in the group and I felt strong to catch them. I was having the race of my life, even the ride of my life. Never felt better or riding faster and had lots in reserve. I think I was actually getting stronger as the adrenaline of returning to this lead group surged. Then, in an unbelievable turn of events....Pffffffffffttttttt. Another blown tire? This can't possible be 2 in the same race? Not in the Guam National Championships! Not when I am in the race and riding like this!!! Not when I have teammates that will be let down.......

But it was true. If the first flat was unlikely, the second was devastating to me. I contemplated riding it flat, but knew that 5+ miles would destroy the wheel and not make it to the finish line. Regretfully, I stopped and changed the tube....again. Patched it actually, because the spare tube was already used earlier. I couldn't find the small puncture. It took way too long. Finally, I found it, and was off again after about 5 minutes total for the repair. Ugh! Well, I thought.....go. Go harder. Go like you've got teammates and friends depending on you. Turn yourself inside out if you have to, but go. And so I did, for about 50 feet.

Yes, in races as in life, sometimes it isn't a matter if you win, but you're going to finish one way or another and hopefully, there are friends around you when it's over. Due to unforeseen events, your race may end earlier than you expected, you can even abandon the race when it gets too tough, or you can put your head down and go. Alot of people had passed me after that 2nd flat tire. Some were people I had passed earlier in the race after hammering out the first 12 miles following my first flat. And there they went. Winning was now out of the question, but I was determined to go....yet, it happened again. A nearly comical, unfathomable 3rd flat, a mere 50 feet or so after my second. I wanted to just walk back the 5 miles in the rain. Just getting back up, only to be kicked down again.

Stunned and hurt don't begin to describe the feelings. For comparison sake, I haven't had 3 flats in the 6 months I've been riding out here, never mind on the same day or ride. How in the world could this possibly happen?

I was very near one of the race officials when this happened. What to do? Call for a ride back, or get up and go. I patched and cursed this 3rd flat, pumped it up, and got back on the bike. Those feelings of disappointment and "what could have been" turned to a deep feeling of anger and rage like I've rarely felt. Throwing all caution and good sense to the wind, I clenched my jaw shut and pushed the last 5 miles like an all out, leave nothing on the course, screw the cars, get the hell out of the way because I am NOT merely racing....I am living. I passed many of those who had passed me after my 2nd and 3rd flats. I knew I couldn't catch the leaders again after that long of an ordeal (7-8 minutes) , but I didn't care at that point. I wanted to put LIFE on notice that I am sick of being kicked around for this year. I'm not complaining here, but it's been a rough year. It's time to pick on somebody else. So, I got back on the bike and didn't care about winning. I wanted/needed to prove to me that I was unstoppable, if only for 5 miles.

Coming into the bike finish area at around 30mph, I hadn't even realized how quickly the last 5 miles had gone. I was a bit surprised I was there already. As I got off the bike and tagged Matt to start the run, both calf and hamstring muscles simultaneously cramped and I fell beside my bike. I was unstoppable for those 5 miles and not a foot more. Everybody in the transition area (KW, my team and some others) had heard about what had happened to me on the course with the last 2 flats. I don't know if other competitors or the officials had relayed what happened.

Matt was off on his hell-run and I was lying in the grass staring at the sky, wondering what should have been. Clearly, we didn't win. Matt turned in one of the faster times on the run, though. He finished strong.

When all was said and done, I still felt terrible about what happened. Catherine had won the swim, Matt was a very solid runner, and I would have had about the 5th fastest time at 1:08 on the bike had better luck been with us, according to my computer. Instead, I was in at 1:23 (about midpack)...15 minutes and a 1st place medal lost to 3 flat tubes and karma. As it was, we still finished 3rd overall in the Relay Teams, bested by another Coed team and an All Male team.

The three of us had done our absolute best, and we knew it. I could never have expected us to do any better individually or as a team. I'd love to race with them again, we kept it fun and still competitive despite the hard knocks. I guess you can't always control what bumps life throws at you, but you better get back on the bike. Whether it's 25 miles to go, 5 miles to go, or 5 miles minus 50 feet to go.....you can't let life push you around. Get up and push back, again and again and even again if you have to....and maybe get some tubeless tires to help along the way.