Pitufa.at

Smurfy’s the most stubborn person I’ve ever met (of any species and that includes my own pighead), fiercely independent and rebellious–not ideal features of a ship’s cat. None of the cats we’ve had before prepared us for this struggle… Sometimes we’re close to giving up, but then he shows his adorable, dotted belly and we’re melting again.

Sometimes we suspect that he’s not quite sane…

These canines can do quite some damage

“Smurfy, get off the solar panel, you’ll fall into the water again…” “Go f yourself!!”

Our WiFi gateway Pitufino can be viewed and tried out at the Austrian boat show in Tulln! Of course there’s also a discount of 10%, not just for those shopping at the boat show, but also for everything ordered from the online store–just this week and next week!

Giant clams rarely get to grow to a size that merits this name. All across the Pacific we hardly ever saw specimen larger than a hand as they are considered too tasty to be left on the reef by locals (and cruisers). Here in PNG we see giants of a meter or more all over the place! Often they are considered a last food reserve for tough times (e.g. severe weather that doesn’t allow going out to fish) and are therefore left to grow. Seventh Day Adventists don’t eat them at all, which explains the large numbers and sizes around e.g. Musau island where only 7th day adventists live. Amazing creatures!

Christian demonstrating on this deceased clam why they are called “murderer clams” in German: they allegedly grabbed the arm or foot (or in this case bum) of a diver and wouldn’t let go until he drowned.

Just like on coral their vibrant colours are due to symbiotic algae and therefore they can bleach and die just like coral when the water gets too hot. Note the white, bleached parts on this one:

Seeing healthy coral in waters around and even above 31°C around many islands in PNG gave us hope that coral might be able to adapt to rising temperatures. In French Poly and Fiji we saw horrible bleaching events at 30°C already, but the coral near the equator that is used to all-year-round hot water seemed to cope. But then around the northern islands of New Hanover we started seeing 32°Cand above (not just on the surface but down to 5 m depth)–and that’s when even the hardiest coral give up. Soft coral that looks like overcooked cauliflower, anemones like lifeless, white spaghetti with desperate clown fishies trying to hide in their dying home, delicate staghorn bleached to light-blue and white that won’t give shelter to little fish once it’s dead and overgrown and even big boulders of hardy porites stone-coral going pastel-coloured and white instead of a healthy brown and green.

Such stressed reefs rely even more than healthy ones on large numbers of herbivore fish to keep algae from overgrowing damaged coral and to give them a chance to recover and regrow. Many communities here in Papua New Guinea are installing no-fishing-zones, which helps the reefs immensely in such tough times. We are looking for any environmental groups willing to encourage such efforts and to help with funding. If you have any ideas or contacts, please write to us!
We have documented and photographed several Marine Protected areas and would love to share the insights with NGOs.

Big fishing fleets empty the Pacific, but we still troll a simple handline whenever we sail between islands and sometimes we get lucky! On the last sail we caught a jack while still in the lagoon–perfect size and timing and Christian quickly cleaned it with Smurfy eagerly watching and waiting for the first bite of sashimi… When we were in the middle of the passage and pitching in rough seas, the line stretched out again: we use a 30 m long, thick line with a metal leader and the yoyo is attached to a bungee cord that stretches out to take the impact when a fish bites. This time it was something much bigger. We reefed the genoa in a little bit to reduce speed from 5 to 4 knots, Christian rolled up the yoyo and yanked the fish over Pitufa’s high stern and into our multi-purpose bucket. A quick moment of panic: Is it a barracuda? Then we’d have to quickly throw him back as we don’t want to risk ciguatera poisoning. No, it’s a wahoo or something similar! A quick pic to identify the species later…(Turns out we caught a king mackerel).
Murdering and cleaning a big fish in rough seas on the rocking and rolling stern isn’t fun and Christian was holding on with one hand, holding the bucket with the second, cutting fish with the third while I did my best to keep Smurfy’s paws out of the bloody mess. As we didn’t have enough space in the fridge to simply put all steaks in and process them later on, I had to get to work in the galley immediately. Some drops of stugeron to fight sea sickness in the hot, sweaty, wildly rocking galley, then I skinned the fish, cut out all bones and red meat and put as much as we 3 can eat within a week into a plastic container and into the evaporator. All that’s not sashimi quality is cut into pieces and stuffed into jars. A squirt of soy sauce, the rest filled up with water, lids on and then the jars go into the pressure cooker for 1 hour (steaming up the cabin to sauna temperatures with the hatches closed underway). As we don’t have a freezer this is the best way to keep fish for later–the preserves stay good for months! Lots of work, but worth it.

Not sure? Ask Lorraine, she does. The row of houses in front of hers has disappeared over the last years, by now the water is rising into her house at each high tide. She shrugs it off with a smile, while standing ankle-deep in the Pacific, cleaning her island-cabbage. Lorraine has never been on a plane, she doesn’t own an air condition, her family just has one little solar panel for one lamp at night. She basically has no carbon footprint, yet she’s suffering the consequences of industry and transport heating up the planet.
So what, you might say. Why doesn’t she move to higher grounds? Well, there are no higher grounds. The whole island is low and flat, the gardens are getting soaked in salt water and the people have nowhere to go.

Clem’s Place on Tunung Island on the northern tip of New Hanover is a lodge for alternative tourists who really want to experience small-island life, go snorkeling, fishing and camping. Clem doesn’t just make his own guests welcome, but is also happy to receive visiting yachties! We got a tour of the village and Clem explained the different projects he is trying for a more sustainable lifestyle for the islanders: he wants to set up a chicken farm to give an alternative to fishing, encourage composting so the people can grow veg on their coral island instead of buying from the mainland and his school has an extended curriculum to teach the children about issues concerning PNG like local plants/animals, awareness for nature preservation, etc.
All great efforts, so if you visit New Hanover by sailboat, make sure to stop by, enjoy a friendly welcome, some great snorkeling/diving and help out with donations and or know-how!
If you’re not a sailor, but looking for a special holiday experience, check out their reviews and contact

When we got back from snorkeling off Snake Island, the boys from the island paddled by, just as Christian was grabbing a brush to clean the rudder. “Do you want to help him?”, I asked. “Yes, we want to help!”, came the immediate answer in a choir. No hesitation, no discussion among themselves, no asking for money. I got out some more goggles and brushes and with lots of splashing, squealing and joking the whole hull was clean after half an hour. Of course they didn’t just get juice and cookies as a thank-you, but also some supplies for their family.
We had a similar experience already in Vanuatu, when we took our dinghy up on a beach to clean the bottom upside-down. A group of teenagers came by, saw what we were doing, immediately grabbed handfuls of sand and we had the thick algae layer off within minutes–and all that just smiling and without asking for anything in return.
Can you imagine such a scene in Europe or somewhere else in the “western” world? I know for sure that Austrian kids would walk past some strangers doing dirty work, they probably wouldn’t even notice them with their noses glued to their smart phones
Putting myself into that scene as a teenager I have to admit that my reaction probably wouldn’t have differed from the typical Austrian brat today–except that my nose would have been in a book… So what makes such a difference with the island kids? Probably that they come from a close-knit community with limited resources where everyone has to work together. The generosity and friendliness of the South Pacific Islanders (no matter if they’re Polynesian, Melanesian or some other -esian) keeps amazing us!