Fiji to Bali – Summer 2026

When I was first told I would be the first mate of Argo and teaching Seamanship, the first thing I did was call my parents. My dad's response was, "It took me 50 years of experience to become a professor; it only took you two." While Argo's salon is not the most educational environment, what it lacks in a calm, quiet space, it more than makes up for in practical learning. Let me explain. Your perfect children have undertaken the challenge of learning navmaster. Navmaster, as you will soon come to learn over a phone call from a Palauan internet cafe, is either the calling to a lifetime of adventure upon the high seas, or the worst possible version of math, whose nuances and intricacies will never grace the fingers of Argo's crew for as long as they live. Trust me, there is no in between. Thus, it is my responsibility to bestow this ancient art form in Argo's rolling, sweaty salon. A day of navmaster normally goes something like this. I walk into the salon with the computer case in hand. A cacophony of voices, laughter, and the occasional panic once someone sees my face enter from the charthouse watertight. By this point, the salon is a maze of charts, bodies, computers, and water bottles; finding a chunk of plasteak (Argos floor material) is like you're back in elementary school playing the floor is lava at your friend's house. Once I have successfully navigated my way to the galley and avoided the onslaught of questions, I set up my computer and begin a number count. "Can I get a 7?" From here, without fail, we always miss a couple of students catching a nap, or getting their last breaths of fresh air before entering the ring. Once I have everyone in their respective seats, we begin the lecture. Navmaster is learning the art of coastal navigation using charts, Portland plotters, dividers, and a bit of cheeky math. The course takes pupils from the basics of plotting, Distance=Speed x Times, all the way to courses to steer, which account for tidal effects and the many different parts of locating your position upon our big blue planet. Once passed, the nav master counts towards a 200-ton captain's license, so the level of detail required is substantial. As I began the lecture today, we discussed estimated positions, which account for how the tide influences a vessel's movement through the water. We built off of a deduced reckoning in yesterday's class and added a current vector today, which significantly reduces our margin of error when position fixing. As I finish the lecture and Emma helps explain a couple of things, we set the students off on the in-class assignments, where they get hands-on with the chart. If you have been paying attention, you will remember I said that Argo makes up for what she lacks in an educational environment with a practical one. All of the concepts and ideas the students are learning are what we as the professional staff would do should our navigation equipment go out when sailing along the coast. As you can imagine this would likely prove quite a stressful task, well being the diligent and caring professor that I am, I make sure that the salon is to hot, theres not enough charts, and the level of noise could rival a panthera concert. High stress learning means low stress doing. As everyone wraps up the in-class assignments, having helped each other and asking Emma and me for help when required, another thrilling day of navmaster ends on Argo. The day continues, a mere 24 hours later, much to the dismay of our shipmates.

Exiting the salon and feeling the blast of fresh air from the charthouse blows my hair back like a corny 2000s commercial always gets my appetite roaring, to which I pour a bowl of cookie rings and milk (I promise we get the necessary vitamins and minerals on Argo) and check in on the watch team steering the boat. The topic of conversation today was incredibly entertaining as Juliet and Kennedy debated the best hamstring & glute workouts. As tensions flared, I decided to have Juliet train Julian and Kennedy train Max, and at the end, we would see who would prevail as the ultimate leg workerouter (although I dont think Max or Julian agreed to be lab rats). I then read my book and took my mandated beauty rest, while watching team 2 shake the main sail reef so we can get more wind in our sail and go faster. I have been incredibly happy with our progress on this passage. In fact, as I am writing this, we are passing exactly halfway to Palau, a really big milestone, especially since we have been averaging 7.5-8.5 knots, which is ripping, as the kids would say. Everyone's helming ability has nicely progressed, and it seems that we are getting our gybes and sail handling skills locked down. We've also been surrounded by big cargo ships. We have found ourselves near a shipping lane coming from Papua New Guinea straight, the Vitiaz Strait on their way from Southeast Asia, and onwards to Australia, New Zealand, or the Americas. I love big boats!

Our wonderful chefs, Max, Sadie, and Kaya, cooked us some beautifully seared tuna, lemon pasta, peas, and onions. Today was another day that our tuna has fed us and kept us in good spirits, for which we thank it yet again. We finished squeeze with the question of whether you could go to one concert from history, or make a concert you wished would exist, who would you see. There were lots of answers from Noah Kahan, to Queen, to a 1938 orchestra piece at the tchaicovksy theater. Although the best concert was the one we had on Argo to the tune of King of Time, a South African pop song about freezing the sun and the sky and going back in time. Which we did in fact do today, as watch team 1 and 2 plotted against watch team 3 to have them have an extra hour of watch so that the sun would begin to rise at the correct time. It is with a heavy heart that I inform you we are not on Fiji Time anymore.

Now I stand in the chart house writing my blog, listening to the waves lap along the water line, lines tensioning and easing in the wind, and a chatter coming from the cockpit as everyone settles into another night of watch cruising our way through the South Pacific.

Amendment: Upon reviewing my pictures of the day I realize I forgot to mention that we had an EFR scenario, if you see my lovely face contored in the arms of Julian and Harrison, just know they locked down the scene and allowed our trained first responders to save the life of Jen.

Until next time,
Charlie