Day 3,392 - Ilot Kouare (22° 33.0S 166° 47.8E) 19:31hrs - September 12th 2016 Exposed in The Tropics

We admire intrepid cruisers, captains and crew intent on sailing high latitudes, enduring chilly challenges around distant windswept capes, but we have little interest in exploring regions that require anything more than board shorts and bikinis. Shimmering lagoons, remote coral atolls, uninhabited sandy isles – we seek the tropics, the warm, quiet, sundrenched corners of our planet, and since we left New York we’ve spent the majority of our time happily bobbing between latitudes 10 and 22 degrees in the South Pacific.

Typically the long-term cruising boats in these parts can be easily spotted by the sheer square footage of canvas draped over them. During New York summers we rarely saw or needed anything more than a bimini for cockpit shade, but when we sailed south to the Florida Keys in 2007, and then deeper into the Caribbean in 2008, sheltering in Guatemala for hurricane season, we experienced, for the first time, the full and relentless searing heat of the tropics, and we felt completely exposed. But now, after 30,000 nautical miles of sunny sailing and a summer cyclone season herein New Caledonia, Dream Time, once bare and unprotected with nary a shady accessory, sports a full complement of canopies.

We take pride in our boat, but we’re not the kind to wipe early morning dew off varnish work to save the finish. She’s a cruising vessel, a little scarred, salty and fully lived in. We rarely frequent marinas, so she only gets a fresh water rinse when it rains, stainless work is seldom stainless, and exterior teak is coated in Cetol rather than glossy varnish. But over nine years of blue water sailing, we’ve learned the value, comfort and convenience of a few strategically placed covers.

We have canopies over the entire foredeck, the quarter deck, a fully battened canopy above the boom, and a variety of cockpit canvas and accessories to zip-in and shield us from sun, spray, rain or mosquitoes. But we don’t want to live in a canvas cave, we enjoy being outside, so over the years they’ve been adjusted in size, position and color to give us the best combination of protection and freedom.

But they do more than provide just a little shade to shelter teak, cool the cabin and protect crew. Our canopies (all made with Sunbrella) are sacrificial covers, our first line of defense against tropical wear and tear. They’re easy and inexpensive to repair, durable, and can remain rigged even when trades are blowing at twenty knots. But more importantly, they keep our more expensive sail covers, cushions, dodger and deck hardware almost fully protected from UV damage. They’re also practical in other areas: serving as rain catchers – funneling water right into our tanks; they provide shelter so hatches can remain open even during tropical downpours – allowing fresh air to flow through the cabin; and they enable us to make full use of our deck space.

But one of the most enjoyable benefits of our shelter is swinging in the shade of in our hammock, which is rigged under our main canopy from shroud to topping lift. It’s an idyllic spot to read, nap or just soak-up the view, and the best part, as we’re fully protected from the sun, clothing is optional.

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Day 3,383 - Ilot Kouare (22° 46.6S 166° 47.9E) 19:31hrs - September 3rd 2016 A Race Against Pirates

Put two yachts abeam, or barely within sight of one another, it doesn't matter what class they are, how dissimilar they may be, or even if they're just out for a mellow Sunday sail, but furled canvas will quickly be shaken loose, winches will start grinding and before you know it, a race is on.

For the last week we've been sailing with new Australian cruising buddies, Chris and Megan on their shiny new 44-foot Beneteau, Toothless. They bought the yacht in France only last year before charging across the Atlantic, through the Caribbean and this year, the South Pacific Ocean. They're the generous sort and usually give us a head start, but before long Dream Time is left bobbing in their wake, catching them only at anchor.

Under the circumstances this wouldn't be humiliating as not only does Toothless have a longer waterline and classified a 'racer/cruiser', but Chris ('Nico') also happens to be an Olympic sailor and a professional Volvo Ocean Race Skipper - you know, those high-performance sixty-five foot mono hull rocket ships that shoot around the world at twenty knots in some of the most inhospitable conditions imaginable.

But the other day, after chasing Toothless downwind to Ilot Koaure, it was a little embarrassing to discover over our beach fire consolation dinner, that rather than being out-sailed by Chris, Toothless was in the tiny yet capable hands of his four year old son, Tully, who can barely see over the helm. And to add insult to injury, he was dressed as a pirate.