Two years ago, on St. Patrick’s Day (for good luck, of course), I shoved off the North American continent with my family aboard a 38-foot sailboat. Our bow pointed towards South Pacific paradise. It would take us nearly a month to sail there, through calms and squalls and day after day of perfect tradewind sailing. We didn’t see land nor ship for 26 days, until the magical, lush and green island of Hiva Oa came into view at dawn one morning.