I am writing to you from the United States of America!

 Home!  Well, 3 of us are home – we girls flew out of Vanuatu on the same day that two able-bodied crew members flew in.  Now, Jim, Rick and Dave are pitting themselves against the elements en route to Hawaii, then home to Seattle.  Evidently, the winds are a little more out of the south, blowing about 20, and they are making 7-8 knots.  That sounds pretty good.  Jim said it has been a bit bumpy – they are getting a lot of water over the deck, but the inside is dry.  It has been hot and muggy as they get closer to the equator.  They are hoping to stop at Palmyra Atoll, but if the winds turn more east, they will miss it.  I think they are all pretty goal-oriented to get Ruby Slippers safely home.

Molly, Jessie and I are comfortably anchored in my sister’s house in Enumclaw.  I have 4 sisters and a mom here, so it has been all family, all the time.  We miss the boat and Jim, but have been busy getting used to solid land.  I love going to the grocery store and just staring at the produce section.  It is such a beautiful sight! 

I will keep you posted on Jim’s progress as he moves toward Hawaii.  There’s no place like home!  ~  Jeanna

When Jim was a young boy,

he read in a National Geographic magazine about the land divers of Vanuatu.  These natives, as a rite of passage into manhood, would climb to the top of a tall structure, tie vines to their ankles, and fling themselves to the ground, hoping that they measured the vine length correctly.  This was long before bungee jumping was conceived, and it intrigued Jim so much that he never forgot it.

Yesterday, on the small island of Pentecost in the Vanuatu Island group, we saw the land divers perform.  They had built a wooden structure, about 70 feet high, of trees and pieces of wood, and supported it with yam vines.  There were small platforms built at different levels up the front of the tower, starting from about 25 feet up, all the way to the top.  The first boy who jumped must have been about 7 years old, and he started from the lowest level.  If the boys were scared or hesitated too long, they were pushed off the platform by their fathers.  The vines were too long for one of the boys, and he landed with a loud thwack on his head in the dirt below.  The trick is to get the vines long enough so that you land barely on the ground, to take the weight off your hips and back when you get to the end of the vine, but not so long that you thud head first into the dirt.  The village has a highly-respected “doctor” who supposedly can eyeball the length of the drop, the height of the young man, and tell the support crew exactly where to cut the vine. 

There was a chorus line of dancers and singers standing behind the structure, chanting and urging the jumpers to glory.  Oh, did I mention that all these men were naked, except for a little tiny palm frond wrapped around their privates, and held in place by a vine around their waist?  This accessory is called a Namba, and is all the rage this year in Vanuatu.  It added to the whole traditional feel of the ceremony.  We decided Molly and Jessie could now write an in-depth school report on gravity, velocity, psychology or anatomy, just from their education on Pentecost Island.

Evidently, a man is not even worthy of getting a wife if he is too afraid to jump.  There was the mother of one of the boys standing near the tower, who was dancing and chanting and obviously very proud of her young man.  She was holding an umbrella in her arms, symbolic of her carrying that boy when he was a baby.  Her boy was the last to jump, and he jumped from the very top of the structure.  He was about 15 years old.  There were 11 jumpers in all, and they all walked away from their jump – heroes in the eyes of their family and neighbors. 

This is the only village in all of Vanuatu that performs this feat.  It has been going on for hundreds of years, but in the early eighties, an enterprising man from this village started marketing the skill to tourists and cruise ships.  Their jumping season is April and May, but they extended it this year to accommodate a few more tourists.  This must be a very rich island; they charge 80 bucks a piece for the privilege of watching young men fling themselves to the ground.  There was also a string band, dancers, and postcard sales for our enjoyment. It’s not something we will likely ever see again, so I guess it was worth it. 

The people are very proud of their village, and it is a beautiful sight.  There are palms and flowers everywhere, and the yards are tidy.  The children have black skin, shining brown eyes and very white teeth.  There are signs up everywhere, in English, telling about how they are raising money for their school, or for their church, or for the children.  They have definitely learned the value of the tourist dollar.  I kept wondering where they kept all the money they collected – they must have gathered in over $10,000 yesterday, but each house was made of palms and sticks; there were no banks or fortresses of any kind.  Does it all go to the Chief?  Is it distributed evenly among all the villagers?  Surely, the jumpers must receive something for their efforts.  Do they send it to a bank account in Port Villa, the largest city in Vanuatu?  It’s a puzzle to me. 

We left Pentecost and sailed to another island named Epi.  This bay is supposed to be the home of a very friendly Dugong, or sea cow.  There are a lot of Dugongs around these islands, but we have yet to see one, and it is on the “must see” list.

You might be wondering about our desperate struggle to get to Fiji at our appointed time.  Well, I kind of feel like Scarlett O’Hara – I’ll worry about it tomorrow.  Except, we are definitely not “gone with the wind”.  We still can’t go directly east because of the strong east winds, so we are pretending that heading south will accomplish the same results.  I just can’t worry about it anymore – what will happen will happen.  As they say, “Make plans, and God laughs”.

There are a couple of sets of new pictures in the media gallery.  Talk to you soon!  ~  Jeanna

We left our “shelter in the time of storm”

with high hopes of a wind switch, allowing us to get to Vanuatu in relative calm. ‘Twas not to be.  I’m tired of whining about passages, so I’m just not going to do it.  Suffice it to say, after the first 24 hours of going 2 knots into huge, confused seas and 30-35 knots of wind, we altered our course and headed to Espiritu Santo, one of the northern islands of Vanuatu, instead of the southern one we intended to go to. 

 

We are happy to be here!  It has that “back to the islands” feeling here.  The water is clear and warm – we can jump in and snorkel without even a thought of donning wetsuits.  We are anchored next to a beautiful resort, where they have laundry service, a restaurant, a book exchange and a pool.  The resort caters mostly to families from New Caledonia, Australia, and Fiji.  It is a very friendly place, and they seem to like having yachties moored in front of their property.  

 

There is no fuel dock on this island, so today we spent the day lugging 240 liters of fuel onto the boat and into the tanks, in 20-liter jugs.  That’s a few trips back and forth in the dinghy!  The fuel station is close to town, so I scoured the town for supplies.  There were many stores, but they all carried the same things.  There was an outdoor market, but it didn’t have much variety.  Poor Jim was left to handle the fuel situation pretty much by himself.  After that job, we brought our boat over to the resort’s dock and filled the water tanks.  It was a busy day, but we accomplished what we needed to.  It rained off and on all day, so I don’t suppose my laundry will be ready by tomorrow; it has to hang outside to dry. 

 

No matter how small a village is, there are a few items that you can always find:   vegetable oil, onions, garlic, rice, and some sort of greens – Bok choy, cabbage, beet tops or taro leaves. Throw in a little meat or pineapple, some soy sauce, and there’s dinner.  It is what many people in this part of the world eat every day.

 

The winds going to Fiji are directly out of the east – the direction we need to go.  So, we pretty much have the same dilemma as we had getting to Vanuatu.  We will watch the weather for the next couple of days and see if it is going to cooperate.  If not, I guess we will just have to go for it.  How bad can it be, for a mere 600 miles?  Yeah, big talker, Jeanna. It’s easy to think that when you are anchored in a calm little piece of heaven, with stars twinkling from horizon to horizon…

 

That’s the problem with deadlines.  When you really need to be at a certain destination, by a certain date, the wind or the weather will always have the last laugh.  It has happened to us every time we have told someone we would be somewhere by a specific date.  Maybe this time, though, the seas will be calm and the weather will behave.  We’ll keep you posted!  ~  Jeanna   

We made it!

 

We are finally in Vanuatu!  Except we haven’t seen any of it yet, because we came in here really late at night, and spent an hour or two motoring up a channel by radar and starlight, since the moon wasn’t up.  We anchored by radar, too, but we also shone a flashlight around to make sure there weren’t any other boats.  When we were safely anchored, we were extremely glad not to hear the wind howling, but we did hear cows.  I wasn’t sure what in the world it was at first, but once the idea of cows came into my head, I figured that was it.  

 

We opened almost every single hatch on the boat, since one reason the passage was so uncomfortable was that we were stuck inside nearly all the time, we couldn’t open any hatches unless we wanted saltwater to come in, and it was hot and sticky and plain miserable down below.  Thank goodness that’s over!  I woke up when the rain started and helped Dad close all the hatches, but when we got done with that, the rain stopped.  It has been raining sporadically though, so we kept the hatches closed.  

 

Well, when the rain woke me up, I didn’t feel all that tired anymore, so here I am, writing an update, at four in the morning.  Oops, five in the morning by Vanuatu time.  For some reason this reminds me of the Shel Silverstein poem that goes, ‘I’m writing this from inside a lion, and it’s rather dark in here.’  It is rather dark right now, too.  But it must be time to get up, because there’s a bunch of roosters crowing their little hearts out somewhere.  I haven’t heard a rooster in a while, so at first I thought it was some dog that needed lots of practice at howling; but no, it’s roosters.  

 

Now that it’s morning, at least according to the roosters, I’m ready to go back to bed.  In a couple of hours, I’ll have to get up and go explore!  Merry passage-end to all, and to all a good night!  ~Molly

We are in deep doo-doo.

We left Australia over a week ago.  As we left, the wind was supposed to turn more southeast, affording us a pleasant reach to Vanuatu.  Instead, it came directly from the east, the direction we were heading, and blew steadily at 20-25 knots.  We were inclined on our port side for about 7 days, getting beat up and very tired.  The boat was banging and shuddering against the water, making a horrible racket.  It was too rough and too noisy to cook, to eat, to read, to do school, to write, to sleep.  Jim and I were positively rummy from doing 3-on, 3-off watches through the nights.  

 

We heard about a little atoll, out here in the middle of the ocean, called Huon Atoll.  It is tiny, and we couldn’t imagine that it would provide any comfort or protection from the wind and the waves.  We arrived here late afternoon and snugged up as close to the low beach as we could.  What a relief to anchor and not be tilted!  I almost cried, I was so happy.  Jessie immediately made bacon and scrambled eggs, her comfort food, evidently.  Jim was asleep by 5:00 that afternoon.  The girls and I stayed up and talked and laughed like we hadn’t seen each other for weeks.

 

The good news?  It is quite protected here.  We have been sleeping well, and the anchor is firmly planted.  We went ashore and found a plethora of seabirds, nests, and baby chicks.  And shells!  We finally found a chambered nautilus shell, very rare and hard to find.  In fact, we found several.  We have two buckets full of shells in the cockpit that are soaking in Clorox water.  The water is too rough to snorkel, but it looks clear and beautiful.  We can see the anchor and the bottom.  

 

Ahhh, the bad news.  We have been here 3 days now.  The wind has not let up one bit – still 20-25, and still directly out of the east.  We are 300 miles from Vanuatu, we are running low on fuel and food, and our watermaker has been acting up.  I have imagined “them” finding us, sitting in the cockpit as skeletons, each with a precious chambered nautilus shell in our hands.  We don’t have the fuel to fight the winds and current all the way to Vanuatu.  The weather charts don’t show any change for at least the next two days.  Even after we reach Vanuatu, we still have 500 miles to go to Fiji and we need to be there by June 15th.  That’s when the crew that is going to help Jim deliver the boat to Hawaii will be arriving. Before they get there, we need to have the boat cleaned up, stocked with food, minor repairs made, and us girls packed and on the airplane to Seattle.  In short, we are out of time.  

 

There is a hint on the weather charts that the winds will die down, or change direction sometime Friday.  We will leave the minute they do.  I won’t mind 25 knots of wind, as long as it is not directly on our nose.  I’ve never seen wind blow this long at one time.  Usually, it will blow hard for a few days, then die down or change course.  This has been going steady for about 10 days straight.  It’s like the trade winds on crack.  We could change course and go to New Caledonia, but that just makes it more difficult and adds miles to the trip to Fiji.

 

In the meantime, we are sorting shells, baking bread, taking year-end school tests, and trying to catch fish.  The wind is howling like an injured wolf, but we are safe and sheltered right now.  Keep us in your prayers.   ~  Jeanna     

S’Long, Australia!

 In the next few days, we’ll check out and be on our way to Vanuatu.  The weather looks agreeable, so hopefully we’ll have a pleasant trip.  It’s about 1500 miles from here to Fiji, so a stop in Vanuatu will be a nice break.

  It seems really odd that we’re going to have to leave Dad and the boat in Fiji and try to go back to our other lives in just about a month.  Jessie and I will also be turning fourteen on June twelfth.  It seems like just a few months ago that we were sitting in a big tree outside McDonalds with our friends and slurping McFlurries (or whatever they’re called) for our thirteenth birthday in Tahiti!  I’ll be glad to see all my friends and family when we go home, but I’ll be sad to leave the boat and snorkeling and tropical animals and plants.  And of course, I’ll miss Dad, and seeing Palmyra and Hawaii with him.

When we were at Lady Musgrave Island (which is a lagoon enclosed in a reef, like Minerva Reef, except that it has an island built up on part of the reef), we saw loads of turtles!  When we were snorkeling, we saw five huge turtles, and I got really close to one!  I think that we mostly saw Green Turtles, but we also saw one or two Loggerheads.  Then, when we went walking on the beach, we found four baby turtles!  They were tiny, only about three inches around.  I thought there was something wrong with them at first, because they looked sort of odd, but then I noticed that they were turned upside down.  We think that they must have hatched the night before we found them, got turned on their backs before they could reach the water, and were stranded until we came.  We turned them right side up, of course, but we let them scramble down the beach and into the water themselves, because they imprint that particular stretch of beach in their brains, and come back to it when they are ready to lay eggs of their own.  It was sort of hard for the turtles once they got down near the water, because, even though the waves weren’t very large, they pushed the turtles back up the beach, rolling them over and over and sometimes stranding them on their backs again so that we had to flip them over.  We watched them until they had gotten safely through the small surf on the beach, and then they swam away over the reef. 

We have finally spotted the elusive platypus on the Broken River near Mackay, Queensland!  After many months of careful observation, all we had seen were the mud-coated freshwater turtles native to the area, until one day when a small, odd looking creature surfaced in the shallows near our powerful platypus-locating binoculars and quickly dove again, stirring up the muddy stream bed as it searched for food…

Not really.  It was on the Broken River near Mackay, Queensland, but it was actually only the first time we had searched for a platypus, and I’m not sure that all those muddy turtles were native to the area, although I think they might be.  Plus, we didn’t even have binoculars with us, let alone powerful platypus-locating ones.  The platypuses are extremely odd looking; in fact, when a specimen of platypus was first sent to England, it was believed the Australians had played a joke on them by sewing the bill of a duck onto a rat!  Also, they are a lot smaller than most people expect:  just a little over a foot long!  When we first saw the platypus, we thought we were looking at a baby, because we had the preconceived notion that they were nearly as big as beavers! 

After our platypus episode, we decided to try and find the much-advertised spot where there were supposedly wallabies on the beach.  When we found the spot, there weren’t any wallabies (it was afternoon, and they usually come out in the morning and evening), but there was a gray kangaroo.  Although, he wasn’t on the beach, he was in the shade on the grass of a picnic area.  We saw a sign that told us, among other things, that “Eastern gray kangaroos sometimes frequent public picnic areas.”  We thought it was very appropriate.  We walked very quietly over to the kangaroo, who didn’t seem to notice us.  We slowly went closer.  There was no sign of acknowledgement from the kangaroo.  Dad reached out his hand and scratched the roo between the ears.  It didn’t even flinch.  Well, we felt pretty silly after that, and we spent about an hour petting it and trying to find out what it ate.  We finally succeeded in getting it to take the most tender, green shoots of grass from our hands.  I think it was a gourmet. 

As for feeling silly about not knowing that the roo was tame, we just met some people who had an even funnier story.  They saw a kangaroo on the beach, and they started inching towards it, thinking that it must be wild, and not wanting to scare it away.  All of a sudden, a couple of kids came over, walked right up to the roo, and started scratching and petting it!  They said they felt pretty foolish.

There are new pictures in the media gallery – help yourselves!    ~  Molly

Article in the May 48 North

There is an interview with Jim regarding our adventure in the may issue of 48 North.   http://48north.com/may_2008/rard/rard2.htm

We are making mostly day-hops up the coast of Australia,

with a couple of over-nighters thrown in for fun.  I haven’t been sick once!  It must be because I poured my soul out to you, dear readers, which took all the angst away.  We have been pulling in to the anchorages and marinas between 3 and 5 in the morning.  It is very peaceful, dark, and a little spooky at that time of day. 

Last night, near the entrance to this marina, there were about 25 large ships lined up across the horizon, right in front of us. They were waiting for clearance, or a pilot boat or something.  It was quite an armada that we had to weave through, on a dark moonless night.  The last thing you want to see on your watch is a 400-foot ship in your path.  25 of them were almost more than I could bear.  I really wanted to wake Jim up, but I prevailed and conquered.  Jim had another set of boats to go through when he went on watch after me. 

We have discovered that it is impossible to check out of Australia, and then go to the Whitsunday Islands, then the Great Barrier Reef, legally.  They want you to check out and get out of town – immediately.  We are now in Mackay Harbour, the last stop for a customs check-out.  It looks like we will have to go to the Whitsundays, then back to Mackay, then through the GBR, without stopping to dive.  Of course, if we have to check something on the bottom of the boat, while we are near the reef, well….

Each country has its own little rules about customs check-in and out.  They are all quite different, and sometimes it seems like they make the rules up as they go.  You might get a different answer on a Friday than you would on a Monday.  This was particularly true in the South Pacific.  A bit of cash or some baked goods, or a can of corned beef, would get you what you needed from the customs agent.  They are a little more official in New Zealand and Australia; they even have printed matter with the rules on it!

We haven’t met a boat with kids on it since we left New Zealand, and Molly and Jessie are ready to mutiny.  All Mom wants to do is school, and all Dad wants to do is work on the boat. Where is the fun?  Where are the crocodiles?  Where are the koalas?  WHERE ARE THE KIDS?  Our friends on “Fafner” are in the Red Sea, just leaving Egypt.  Our friends on “Azul” are still in New Zealand, and will be in Fiji about 2 weeks after we leave there!  The kid boat, “Skedemongske” (not easy for us, either), is not too far away.  They are in Brisbane, and heading north up the coast, right behind us.  There is something to live for, after all!

Time for school!  ~  Jeanna

Bundaberg is a little town on the river,

about 4 hours by car north of Brisbane.  It is often the first Australian Port of Entry for cruisers coming from Fiji and Vanuatu.  Australia is a very, very flat country.  You can go miles and miles on the roads here, without even going up a little rise.  There are acres of sugar cane fields on each side of the roads.  Bundaberg is famous for their sugar, their rum, and their ginger beer.  We’ve not seen “hide nor hair” of a cow, sheep or pig in this area – it’s all about the sugar! 

Today we went to a huge Sunday market.  There were hundreds of stalls, with people selling everything from old books and used clothes, to fresh vegetables and fruits.  There was a guitar player, entertaining the masses with old Marty Robbins cowboy tunes.  Seedless watermelons were $2.00 each – huge and juicy.  We had rented a car for the day, to stock up on fresh goods for our trip north to the Great Barrier Reef.  Now our coffers are full; the nets in the cockpit are full of apples and oranges, and the nets inside are full of avocados, lemons, limes and tomatoes. 

We went to a bird sanctuary about 45 minutes from Bundaberg.  We always seem to gravitate toward animal exhibits.  This place was a huge area, covered with tall netting, where the birds flew around free as, well, birds.  There were lorikeets, macaws, all sorts of parrots, and plenty of finches, doves, quail and cockatiels.  It was very musical in there, and the birds seemed very happy.  Some of the parrots could talk, and Molly and Jessie spent a lot of time near one of the birds, saying “good morning”, “what happened?” and, “I love you.”  My favorite bird was a Bleeding-Heart Pigeon, who had a small circle of red feathers right in the center of his breast, that looked exactly like a gunshot wound.  I don’t know what God’s thinking was there, but it looked very authentic. We decided that we need an aviary when we get home, as well as a greenhouse full of palms, bromeliads, and tropical flowers. After watching the birds for a couple of hours, we had a picnic lunch of watermelon, fresh fruit, and avocados on fresh bread.

At the aviary, there was a nice young man working with the birds, filling their food dishes and adding gravel to their living areas.  I commented that this must be a wonderful place to hang out every day, with all the beautiful, melodic birds.  He said, “Yes, this is a great place to work.”  Then he looked at me, and I could have sworn he said, “Nice dress.”  I pondered this for a moment, since I was wearing shorts.  It wasn’t until he walked away, whistling and pushing his wheelbarrow, that I realized he had said, “No stress”, in his heavy Australian accent.  We seem to catch about half of what people are saying here…

Tomorrow we will head up toward the Whitsunday Islands, and explore the reef for a few days, then head east to Vanuatu and Fiji.  This whole coast is very shallow; there are a lot of places we can’t get in to.  Many of the anchorages are up shallow rivers and inlets.  On the other hand, the sky has been as blue as God’s own eye, and the sunsets have been a watermelon/apricot sorbet color each night. 

I am looking forward to getting back to the less civilized areas of the South Pacific.  New Zealand and Australia are so much like the United States; there are freeways and 24-hour grocery stores, Target, K-Mart and KFC.  I miss the little islands where you have to work a little harder to get your groceries, where the only way around is by foot or horse, and where everyone you meet has time to say hello.

In the May issue of 48 North, there is an interview that Rich Hazelton did with Jim back in January, when he was home for the boat show. You can access it on line at www.48north.com/may_2008/rard/rard2.htm.

There are a few new pictures in the media gallery, too.
Happy Mother’s Day, Mom!    ~Jeanna
 

As Molly said in her update below,

we made it up the coast to Southport, just south of Brisbane, and just north of Surfer’s Paradise.  It looks like Miami Beach around here – glitzy hotels, hundreds of miles of golden-sand beaches, expensive little boutiques, and nice restaurants.  The marina is very chic; there are glass automatic doors at the top of each gate, that slide apart as you swipe your card against the sensor.  I am sure we will only be here a couple of days, since our life’s savings are already earmarked for other things.

It was still raining and blowing in Coffs Harbour as we left, but about 30 miles north, the sky was blue and the wind was at our beam.  The ocean swells were still big from all the wind, and it was a roll-y ride.  I can’t seem to get a handle on my seasickness problem.  This time, I tried the patch that you put behind your ear, and it is supposed to keep you from feeling sick.  Didn’t work.  I guess I will just keep trying different products until something clicks.  This time, I was alone in my misery; Molly didn’t get sick at all.

Today, our first full day in Queensland, is a holiday:  ANZAC Day – 25 April – is probably Australia’s most important national occasion.  It marks the anniversary of the first major military action fought by Australian and New Zealand forces during the First World War.  ANZAC stands for Australian and New Zealand Army Corps.  The soldiers in those forces quickly became known as ANZACs, and the pride they soon took in that name endures to this day.  Flags were at half-mast, and there were memorial events everywhere.  All the stores were closed, and the beaches were packed.  Therefore, we have not been able to do much in the way of discovery.

As a greeting, people (really, everyone!) here say, “How’re you going?”  Not “How are you doing,” and not “How is it going,” but “How are you going?”  I always want to answer, “By foot,” or “By boat,” but I am a good little tourist, so I just answer, “Fine, and you?” 

On our sail up the coast, I was pondering the instruments we have on board that determine our speed.  We have the knot meter, which simply tells us how fast we are going through the water.  Even if we were going around in circles, it could read 7 knots.  The “speed over ground” indicator tells us how fast we are going over the bottom of the ocean.  If the currents and wind are helping us or hindering us, we could be going faster or slower than what the knot meter is reading.  Ahhh, but the VMG instrument is my favorite; Velocity Made Good.  It tells you how fast you are going toward your goal.  Once you plug in to the computer where you want to go, the VMG tells you how well you are doing at reaching that goal.  If you are sailing with the wind, and the wind isn’t going the direction you want it too, you might even have a negative VMG.  It’s thrilling to watch the boat’s progress toward your chosen goal. 

I was thinking that it would be great if the world had a VMG meter.  We could check our progress against the big things in life; poverty, peace, pollution, loving our neighbor, etc.  If we all had personal VMGs, we could see how we are marching toward our personal goals: getting the kids through school, moving ahead in our jobs, finding God.  If we found out that we were moving away from our goal, we could make some adjustments and get back on track.  I hope Bill Gates reads this.  They could include it in the next Windows upgrade.

Back home in Enumclaw, four of my family members were having birthdays around this time.  Today we set up a Skype concert for them.  There were about 12 people gathered in the warm light of the computer back home, and Jessie and Molly performed four songs for the birthday people.  Jessie played the guitar on all four songs, and Molly sang “Let It Be” while Jessie played.  We have a camera on our computer, so the family got to see the girls’ show.  Fortunately, we had a good connection, and everyone clapped and cheered.  It was fun to connect, from lo these many miles.  It’s a good way for Grandma to keep up with how big Molly and Jessie are getting, so she won’t be so shocked when we get home!  ~  Jeanna