I mentioned The Black Ball Yacht Club in my last blog, well the organisers decided that the black ball that you see above the marina office should be put back into use and to that end they would make a recording of the daily event so as to draw folk forward to check their wrist watches or maybe just continue supping and nattering while chewing on their croissants and pies.
So there would be a trumpet fanfare followed by a gun at one, a loud bang as the ball falls at 1.00pm. This presented the problem that the bang could be misconstrued as a terrorist attack sending frightened folk running for their lives or having coronaries on the quayside. So they needed a vocal warning and in harmony with their British heritage it was decided Rob’s English accent would do the job.
Which it did very well, so we have to return to hear his voice in operation don’t we.
There were numerous wonderful shared social occasions, some dinners on board and elsewhere and walks with friends. The folk from Fiji came to tell us all about it as we gathered like a flock of sheep in our fleeces at the sausage sizzle on the Barge Inn and later we filled in the lengthy form required to get Zoonie into their waters.
Just before we left we went with Jeannie and Merv and Eric and Vandy from Scoots (on her third circumnavigation) to Mangawhai Heads for a cliff top walk one way, a beach snack and then a beach walk back when the tide fell low enough for us to traverse oyster encrusted areas of rocks. Then a delicious pizza at Waipu, the Scottish town of New Year’s Day Highland Games fame. Well it was Jeannie’s birthday and that needed celebrating.
We first planned to check in to the capital at Suva but were advised that the harbour is filthy, oily, strewn with wrecks including one right across the entrance to the marina (they didn’t mention that) and open to the SE winds. Its position looked good for a landfall though. So I emailed Mereoni Jikotani who had already acknowledged receipt of our form with a suggested change to Savu Savu on the other big island named Vanua Levu to which he/she replied “That is good, proceed”.
Then Rob changed faith.
As part of the international festival of food and culture on the Canopy Bridge the local Sikh Coalition came along to challenge common misconceptions about their faith by planting turbans on willing passers-by including one of the culturally aware skippers of Zoonie, the other one took the pics. I like their positive views on peaceful change, social justice, community service, equality of the sexes and lack of a caste system.
There were excellent food stalls too with choices and flavours from around the world and despite the rain the canopy kept the visitors dry and the queues long until the evening.
Merv phoned Rob once or twice to go help with the restoration of their home and on board we made covers for the foredeck and outboard while waiting for a hint of southerly in the persistent north winds.
We would be down below and hear an engine start up through the hull and from the river water outside and watch as some yachts left for Opua, 40 miles up the coast. If they haven’t set off yet they will be sitting on their anchors as a storm force 10 goes through this weekend and if they have set off I just hope they have made that magic transition between wild weather and the variable tropics at Latitude 30’S. The SE Trades bringing shy southerly winds have not set in yet.
Milling with the larks at Marsden and River dancing Gulls
35’49.85S 174’28.439E
Do you remember I mentioned a while back ‘Bowie’ the white dog who was born the day David Bowie died? When we were walking the Hatea Loop a few days ago he was hanging his front legs over the stable door watching folk walking past his semi-aquatic home, the boat shed where he lives with his widowed master and best friend the cat he has grown up with.
Cat was sitting right next to him on the wooden sill, both of them soaking up the sun and looking mighty appealing.
As we motored down the river two days ago and beyond the hubbub of the Town Basin there was Bowie, this time standing on his back legs with his front legs hooked over a wooden railing (he is half human) at the other side of the shed overlooking the river and passing boats. He was barking at us but I would be foolish to think we were anything more to him than a moving object worth barking at.
Then a little further down was Mo on his pretty kauri yacht, Rosemary moored outside the new café at Riverside Marina, oh their iced mocha smoothies! We’ll be back we said to eachother and not only for those. So many friends have said that to shoot through Fiji in a couple of months and move west would not do that fabulous place justice, or Vanuatu and New Caledonia for that matter. Especially as we will not be bringing Zoonie back to this fabulous sailing area once we leave the South Pacific.
The Marvels of Marsden
Our next weather window was the next week and Alison and Randy on Tregoning waited here for three weeks last year. As Jeannie so rightly said, “A Patient wait will result in a comfortable passage.”
So the days at Marsden went by with more Lows hunting across the North Cape from the Tasman with the addition of High pressure systems wanting to hold windy hands with their counterparts producing strong winds in squeeze zones.
As if that is not quite enough to prevent the wary sailor from leaving port weather bombs, baby cyclones following their bigger, stronger parents down from the tropics continue to rain down on the very patch of water we would all like to safely cross on our way north to Minerva and on to Fiji.
So we remained in Marsden and heard of others who had left at different times and described the experience as like being in a washing machine for 36 hours. One boat found it had a lot of leaks in the heavy rain that accompanied the low and others suffered gear damage. As the wind shot through the capital of Fiji, Suva Harbour, a number of yachts were damaged as bigger vessels broke from their moorings and collided with them. One yacht had spent months in a shed in Whangarei having work done suffered extensive damage, we felt for them.
While we waited our turn we spent many happy times on walks around Marsden. Rob discovered the cause of the curious little hollows in the sand with mini ramps coming out of them. Red-beaked gulls paddle the water like ‘riverdancers’. Then they pluck up morsels of fish and shellfish from their workings.
It is a beautiful area with the mounts on one side of the river, including Mt Manaia with his wife and three children between looking down on us and the river beach on the other side which turns the head and becomes Bream Bay beach, named by Cook for the plentiful supply of bream his men caught there.
We walked it all. Along up river to One Tree Point where little chitons cling on to the concrete ramp of the yacht club and there is a welcoming ice cream shop on the way back.
Around the head beside the log loading area and underneath the oil pipes that run from the ships to the refinery where a friendly dog demanded we throw his stick for him.
The marina was once a dairy farm and the pastures are now grazed by an ever growing number of very modern, expensive homes of all shapes and sizes, with canals around them and some provided with pontoons for their sport fishing boats. It’s nice to get off the site and see some of the modest, home built baches which have the best views over the river and have given fun holidays to past generations and continue to do so. First come first served.
The best part has been the numerous social occasions we have had with Eric (bass guitar) and Vandy (drums) from Scoots and Alison (vocal) and Randall (classical guitar) from Tregoning. Not only enjoying musical sessions, Rob and me (vocal and maracas) joining in as best we can, but with shared meals on eachothers’ boats including Randall’s sushi, Eric’s curry, my veg stroganoff with Vandy’s perfectly cooked rice and Rob’s divine lemon cheesecake.
We have exchanged films and music DVDs to enjoy and had a film evening together on Zoonie in which we aired a film about a Whisky heist in Scotland but I cannot remember the title.
It was turning chilly as the New Zealand winter approached. I caught a glimpse of Rob disappearing into the aft cabin with the duvet under his arm. 2 degrees in the saloon greeted me one morning so Rob became accustomed to reaching for the Ebespacher switch a few minutes before one of us rose to make tea. The sun in the daytime took over once it was high enough to filter through the deckhouse windows.
Rob found 12 full bottles of very old red wine by the bins and brought four back to Zoonie which we shared with our friends, wondering what set of circumstances caused them to be consigned to the dump. They were quite drinkable and what they lacked in bouquet was more than made up for by the fact they were free.
We delayed our departure date numerous times purely because of the weather, but it did allow us to help Randall and Alison celebrate their 10th anniversary at sea with a meal in the Land and Sea Restaurant by the marina.
Later, back on board we watched the George Harrison Memorial Concert with Ravi and Anoushka Shankar, the former arranging the first half and his daughter giving an amazing performance on the sitar. Her sister is Norah Jones, another favourite of ours. What a treat that was.
The Queen’s Birthday came and went with a raising of the Union Jack for a few hours under threateningly grey skies and a visit from Jeannie and Merv and Shirley and Max for tea, all of which they brought themselves with two utterly luscious cakes, the remains of which they didn’t think worth taking home, bless them.
Last year on that auspicious day a weather bomb hit some of the north going yachts and caused one mariner to be lost overboard. New Zealand is a hard place to sail to but it is even harder to get away from.
North to Minerva – 29:38.81S 178:07.91E
You may have guessed we are now at sea, leaving Marsden two days ago with a few others including Tregoning with Alison and Randall on board. The weather forecast predicted a window of six days of favourable and light winds before the next tropical depression arrives and with 800 miles between us and Minerva Reef, where we can wait it out if necessary, we are trying to maintain an average speed of 5.6 knots to arrive 6 days after our start and 4 days from now.
Yesterday, in perfect conditions the Diva gave us 10 hours and 70 miles of 6 – 8 knots speed but today the wind has gone light and even she cannot perform with so little brass in the band. So the engine is back on with the hope that later we will be able to use some of the winds that are on their way.
Due to the lack of wind in the centre of the High we are motoring, Zoonie sliding across the deep pile blue carpet once more beneath the celestial fire burning in the hearth of the heavens. Thank goodness diesel engines are happy to just plod on and on.
Last night I awoke to a loud mid pitch moaning from the propeller shaft/gearbox area. So Rob and I searched for a cause but established everything seemed ok, there was no excessive heat, smell or water ingress. The shaft bearings were getting their sea-water lubrication ok so I guess maybe it was just bored.
I tried to send two small photo files with the last blog but Mailasail was having none of it. The system is trying to download a big file which is blocking what we send to just short text emails. We cannot cancel the download because it is not ours. I will get them to you eventually.
We are over half way to Minerva Reef now and hope to arrive there on Tuesday ahead of the Low that is coming. Then once that is past it should give us nice southerlies off its tail end which we will use to cover the 3/4 days left to get to Fiji. Well that’s the theory.
It is getting warmer in the saloon, 25’ at the moment and thoughts are moving towards reducing the layers of clothing, it’s all good.
Before we left Marsden Allison arranged a six person hire car for a day and a half. Well after three weeks isolated in Marsden, miles from any significant urban life, (I’m not complaining mind) we were like children let out of school at the end of term. Off to various errands and all in to Pack and Save for another final victualling up. Then in the evening we went to Waipu hoping for a meal at the great Pizza Barn we previously visited with Jeannie and Merv.
Well of all the cheek they had closed up shop for the winter. However, a few doors down in typical Indian open all hours style we came across the Madly Indian which did us proud with fine food and generous hospitality.
Next day we set off early to the Waipu Wildlife Refuge where we counted 23 wading and shore birds, but no River dancing Red-billed Gulls! Instead I saw my first Reef Heron, charcoal plumage with an orange beak and two lesser spotted mooring buoys, the only ones there.
Then on to Mangawhai Beach and headland for a short walk before revitalizing ourselves with an excellent lunch at the Mangawhai Historic Pub, opened in the 1860’s as a Hotel and still thriving in its idyllic location just above the estuary.
Dessert was by way of some home-made chocolate from Bennetts Chocolatier a short distance away in the town. My eyes fell upon some chilli chocolates, the thoughtful lady offered me a quarter of one, “Try before you buy dear.” Well somehow the chocolate brought out the flavour of the chilli, a real treat, but it was a few moments before I could relay that message to the others. I bought six and we have all had a tiny bit and the rest are in the fridge for next time, if we dare.
So while Alison, Randall, Vandy and Eric explored the Kauri Museum which we have visited twice before Rob and I explored the little quay we couldn’t reach last time at Matakohe because there was a tractor working in the road. We found the quay where supplies and the post came ashore before the main road was built. There was once a tiny store there with a Post Office, complete with telephone exchange and postmaster’s accommodation at the back. It was moved up to the site next to the museum and restored. So we went in and arranged to make a call with the charming mannequin Post mistress.
On poking about the pretty area overlooking the sheltered Arapaoa River Estuary we found a little gem of a derelict two bedroom home/bach opposite the quay. Someone has recently stopped the upward growth of ivy and replaced some of the wooden stilts, setting them in concrete. The old fireplace and chimney have gone, but they could be replaced couldn’t they. Some of the electric sockets are very modern. I just could not resist squeezing in through the hardboard across the door.
The last occupant had cats because two little upholstered bucket seats were scratched to shreds on the sides. The living room opened onto a nice terrace across the front with gorgeous views of the estuary. Places like that really set my imagination going. Rob was back at the car waiting when I heard voices nearby. Afraid of being discovered I nonchalantly walked across the grassy garden and slipped over the fence to respectability. I never saw the owners of the voices. Now back to the voyage.
From Sunset to Sunrise
From the 16th to 17th June 2018 – 27:56.66S 178:59.84E
A Cruisers’ Gift is to see the sun actually move down below the uncluttered horizon. Zoonie was bang on course with no resistance from the waves to her 1500rpm movement through the water at twice the speed one can walk.
She is speeded up a little and slowed down by the coming and going of the tide/current. A fingernail moon and its friend, Saturn reflect on the silken water. Rarely have we seen the perfect sunset with no clouds to dim the beauty. As soon as it had gone fog patches rolled in from the east and south, the closing of stage curtains.
Then the moon and his friend run hand in hand after the sun on a similar path like children following a parent home across fields. To be so close together we must be in Spring tide range as they combine to pull the oceans the same one way together. Indeed we are as a check of the Tide Tables for Marsden Cove confirms.
We are the fortunate witnesses to far greater things than earthly concerns. Above us the Milky Way spans the celestial sphere. The stars and planets suspended at an altitude of around 20’ above us and the horizon cast shimmering silver reflections of their own reflected light beckoning across the water to us. Those celestial bodies high above pinprick the ocean with a negative of themselves and those on or near the horizon make it difficult to distinguish them from ships’ lights.
Mars, red of his own accord, walks ponderously from East to West and a solitary speeding satellite travelling from NW to SE restores my faith in on- board communications, maybe I will be able to send you some photos soon.
But here is one photo I cannot send as a camera could not do it justice; the human eye is sometimes better than the camera lens as it tunes in to the subject using the added advantage of a brain. Sitting on the cockpit seat with my arms on the coaming I stare down at the wash Zoonie is sending from her side. Like a virgin bride she is pulling a gossamer veil studded with millions of tiny phosphorescent sparkling diamonds across an ebony black star studded carpet that covers the immense depths below, around 4000mtrs of the Fiji Basin.
I was on watch from 22.00hrs to 01.00hrs when I wrote the aforementioned in my notebook.
When I came on again at 04.00hrs the intensity of the night sky was at its most complete. Three satellites arced across the sky and many more sat stationary, glittering like wealthy wives at a charity gala. Around 5.00ish the early dawn filled the eastern sky with primrose yellow and spread banana skin down its reflections on the sea surface. Would it be a cloudless sunrise as well? There was a narrow layer of broken cloud in the way which in the end added to the sense of anticipation and drama. Camera and I waited.
Bright flashes of stationary light, some big and worrying (would I hear of a plane crash in the area?) took my attention for a while. They may have been a meteor shower although I have never seen one so cannot say for sure. One low level plane flashing red was on route probably from Tonga to Auckland.
Where stage performers love an encore after their performance the sun on this morning demanded it before. We waited and waited, like fans at a concert for the Star’s arrival which emerged in a mass of flaming orange. Its body was dressed in brilliant palest yellow as it rose slowly and then disappeared behind the clouds. This time it sent rays of light above it to herald its second emergence and once that was done everything settled down for the performance.
Our fear of the Low at the outset has become a calm anticipation with the hope we can use the wind we get. We should be well to the north of its track. As I write this at 09.22 on Sunday morning we have 278 miles to go to Minerva and at 135 miles covered in a 24 hour period that should get us in early afternoon on Tuesday, but we shall see.
The prop shaft noise has gone. Rob has just topped up the main fuel tank from the cans (80ltrs) giving us 17 inches left in the tank out of 21 inches at the outset. We have so far done 82 hours under motor or 164ltrs max, and probably a lot less fuel in reality. We’d rather spend out on fuel than gear repair from strong wind damage.
My Nerves in Minerva
Actually it’s Our nerves settling down but it doesn’t go so well with Minerva does it. So Zoonie moves very gently at her anchor in this amazing lagoon (every ocean should have one) alongside our dear friends Hannes and Sabine on Cayenne. Rob will dive down today and see if there is anything wrapped around their prop as Hannes thinks there may be from a strange noise they’ve been hearing. Maybe the same as ours.
Our strange noise seemed to be a vibration/resonance sound which comes and goes, appears to be doing no harm, we surmised on our knees staring down at the geabox/propshaft area at some unearthly hour one night. Cause of worry number 1.
The first couple of days gave us expected southerlies and the Diva gave a fine performance billowing blue ahead of us pulling Zoonie along at 7 – 8knots. The sailing we have had has been beautiful, some close hauled at 5-6 knots to get here. It pays to have a clean bottom.
Then the calm started and caused us to do 114 hours of motoring in which Rob felt Zoons was using more like 3ltrs per hour instead of two and we were getting through the diesel much more quickly than we should. Causes of worry numbers 2 & 3. I rationalised that just could not be but I was caught up in his anxiety all the same.
So within minutes of arrival the table was unbolted and moved, the floorboards unscrewed and moved and the diesel viewing hatch (25 bolts) were carefully undone and put in a pot. Rob gently levered the hatch off and there flowed a sea of fluid, pale pink and down only by 7” (out of 21” with a hull shaped tank bottom using the hollow top of the keel) so we guess we have used just over half to 2/3rds of the fuel capacity instead of about 3/4. The conclusion will come when we fill up.
Guys would you know if it makes any difference to the fuel consumption of an engine if it has been through a mostly fresh water rinse (submersion) because I cannot see it would if it was cleaned and dried straightaway? She sounds exactly the same as before and there is no smoke astern. Our relief was like a yoke being lifted from our shoulders. Later analysis proved the engine is as fuel efficient as it was before the flood.
Cause of worry number 4 was getting ahead of the oncoming Low which appears to have slowed as the High that gave us the calms is holding it back. The expected southerlies will help us all sail in to Fiji (400 miles away) in a couple of days and we just hope everyone is clear of the Low before it arrives.
It seems incredible to be sitting in the coral reefed rim of this, the oldest type of volcano on earth. Once in very ancient times this erupting volcano stood high above the ocean, venting forth. When it ceased it sank back down into the ocean at the rate of around 2cm a year until the marine corals could encrust its rim. Some people were on the rim exploring the pools as we came in. The crayfish are good in this area but I feel it would be kindest to leave them alone.
The grib files show the Low to the south west of us drawing in wind from all angles and spinning like a catherine wheel. A shower of rain in the night did a fine job of washing all the salt off Zoonie’s decks and windows. The sun is lovely and warm as we sit and soak up the surroundings. It is impossible to photograph this area and do it justice as the beauty is in what is not there; no foliage, no mountains, no bold colours. Pale grey clouds with blue patches down to the horizon which sits on a pencil thin line of grey being the ocean outside the lagoon.
Then irregular waves break white on the outer edge of the circular reef which reveals itself as a green band three times as wide as the horizon line. When we first approached we saw lots of black specs standing above the reef. It would be easy to think they are hulls at a distance but they are rocks that must have been sitting there through every tempest for millions of years. Where else would they have come from, the heavens?
Next job after breakfast, inflate the tender. Yesterday we rowed across to Cayenne and chatted with Hannes and Sabine over coffee and delicious vegan nibbles. Then Rob donned his wetsuit and dived into the pale blue depths to reassure them both that there was nothing nasty around their prop and the cause of the hissing noise as they entered the lagoon was probably the tide in the entrance rushing over the shallower sea-bed.
21st June and still in Minerva
Tregoning is well west of us at present and plans to keep going for Fiji. They will have weathered the Low passing through last night and hopefully pick up the southerlies that are due to cover this area from midnight tonight. It is on these winds that trail the Low that we will set off early tomorrow for the last 400 miles.
Rob caught a beautiful squid this morning. Its mate stayed with it while it was hooked and it keep shooting out black ink which looked very dramatic in the pale blue water. I landed it in a bucket and Rob removed the hook before it went back to its mate in an array of changing colours. So what amazed us was how it changed to the exact colour and pattern of the artificial bait, as you will see when I eventually get the photos to you.
We ate with our friends last evening and motored back after dark with our now well behaved outboard on the back of the tender to our floating home. This evening they are coming over to us before our joint departure tomorrow when Zoonie should be facing the beacon to the south of us signalling favourable winds.
A Walk on the Wild Side
North Minerva with friends
On its way north just 25 miles south of Minerva a yacht yesterday reported volcanic activity. Their boat stopped in the water, unable to make forward progress even at 2000rpm and amidst the sulphuric smell of rotten eggs they turned right angles to the left to escape the highly aerated water.
We also smelled sulphur on board and just hoped it had travelled with the wind and not that we were sitting in a cauldron about to boil over.
The ‘joint departure’ was postponed for two days due to the arrival of another front in the direction we planned to sail and as Hannes worries about a fouled prop were happily proved to be unfounded by Rob’s exploratory dive we decided to relax with a walk on the reef.
We went in Hannes’ aluminium bottomed rib because the coral would be a lot less kind to our soft hulled dinghy and we wore thick soled sandals to protect from the razor sharp coral.
Such a flat scene surrounded us as gobies dashed out of our gaze more quickly than I could photograph them. The reef is strewn with mussel shells, various colours and shapes of coral, skittering camouflaged crabs and little pools with tiny caves, each with its own sea urchin partly revealed and part hidden. Perhaps most spectacular were the turquoise lipped clams, their soft lips reflecting the colour of the water over white sand.
Taking photos was a challenge in such a flat plane of interest. I decided to try creating my own ‘height’ or ‘elevation’ with a subject in the foreground, then the reef and then the water and sky beyond. I think a portrait vertical shot gives the best impression. The presence of a human helps too and a yacht in the distance. The mistake I made in some of the shots was to get too close to the object in the foreground so the whole picture was slightly out of focus.
The red yacht you see is Muktuk (Inuit for whale blubber) with Andreas and Birgit aboard. We had afternoon tea with them and Hannes and Sabine on Muktuk and in the conversation discovered they were indeed the couple we had met at the yacht club in Akaroa near Christchurch when they were there on Muktuk and we were camping with Vicky.
Back on the reef. Rob wandered to the far side about a quarter mile across and paddled in the Pacific where the waves break in white foam. He could see the bottom where he was walking but then came to a deep blue fissure in the reef that went down into the depths to around 638 metres. There he saw a big 60cm oval fish with a yellow chin surrounded by a dozen or so smaller fish keeping it company.
Sabine had been hoping to catch some crayfish but we think it is the wrong season for them and they were possibly on a migration route somewhere. At least I hope it is not that they have been fished out by hungry cruisers. They are active at night so maybe that is why they were absent.
On the far side of the reef two yachts and what looked like a motor fishing boat with a short communication mast were anchored. The next morning over some of Sabine’s delicious coffee and buns on Cayenne Hannes told us there was a drone hovering over Zoonie for quite some time the night before. It came, disappeared to the other side of the reef and then came back again. I became suspicious that it was from the motor yacht as the two others had left. The name of the vessel is Waipawa and we were to come across her again later.
On our last day in Minerva the sun and wind kept our batteries at 100% so we did not have to run the engine.
I busied myself cooking food ready for what promised to be a lively 400 miles to Fiji. A big curry, boiled potatoes and hard boiled eggs, the last two cooked together were soon loaded into the fridge. Always in the back of a cruiser’s mind is the fact these countries officers will often take away any fresh produce left on board. Well we didn’t want that did we!
Muktuk paves the way to Fiji
Muktuk left 24 hours before we set off. I sat in the cockpit and watched as her vast foresail carried her off over the horizon. The dawn photo is of Cayenne on the morning of our joint departure. We weighed anchor half an hour before them keen to get a good days sail under our belts before night time.
The Diva flew onto the scene and was happy to compromise her usual insistence on an empty stage by letting us use a little of the mainsail to steady Zoonie in the lively seas. Couldn’t have the Diva falling into the orchestra pit or, even worse, the audience could we!
We lost sight of Cayenne on a slightly more westerly course at around 4.00pm and as they are eventually sailing west from Fiji we wondered when our paths would cross again.
The next day Zoonie and the Diva windsurfed together all day long at 7+ knots. It was exciting to feel Zoonie lifted to the top of the waves like an Inca princess on the shoulders of her carriers, pushed forward by the rollers and then settle gently down surrounded by a skirt of bubbling white lace. The sea was showing signs of building with the coming SE Trades and another blow due in three days’ time, so we were aware that her performance must soon end.
During the night Brian arrived. I was vaguely asleep when I heard Rob gasp, “Oh I see”. What he saw was Brian’s bum and tail protruding forward of the bimini roof. He was standing on his generously webbed feet on top of the blue fabric preening and snoozing and as we were to discover later pooping large jets of grey, chalky poop all over the deckhouse front windows, decks, coach roof, mast base and boom, in fact pretty much everywhere infront of the cockpit up to the mast.
A Rig and Course change as we enter the Koro Sea – 18:37.63S 179:20.35W
But firstly another daytime portrait of Brian and his legacy which has taken some cleaning up and is not 100% successful yet.
So we centralled the reefed main and Rob poled out the genoa as the wind was now gusting 20knots and with the following sea shoving us along we were making 7+ knots. Rob sighted land, Totoya Island at 09.46am on the 26th June and using my hand-bearing compass I took a bearing of the island. Then by using the reciprocal on the chart drew a pencil line to cross our marked track to give and EP (estimated position). Plotting our GPS position for the same time it was nice to see one sitting on top of the other.
Looking astern at the churning vistas brought back memories of our Atlantic and Pacific crossings and the reassuring feeling that the three of us had dealt with this before and would deal with it this time. The difference was that previously there was a vast amount of open ocean, here we were navigating through reefs and small islands. The sea was moderate, not rough.
Early in the morning of our last day at sea, as I came onto my 1.00am watch I felt we needed more than the modest 5.5 knots we were doing to make Savusavu in comfortable time to be checked in today. 6+ knots required to advance our ETA please.
I thought the procedure through and gently released a little of the genoa furling line. Then took the winch handle and tightened in the sail till we were getting barely 6 knots. Not enough. Using the same procedure again brought the speed up to 6.3+ and her motion was still comfortable in the bumpy sea. Any more and she would have been at risk of a broach, coming side on to the advancing rollers and risking being turned over. As it was the pull forward kept her bow up and her steering secure. Little did I know at the time how fortuitous were these minor adjustments.
It was too windy and roly to go on deck and hoist the courtesy and health flags and clean off Brian’s mess so I contented myself with making a shopping list. First item; tonic water.
This was the sort of windsurfing we like. On a 40 foot board with no risk of falling off or getting wet! At one splendid moment Zoonie flew down a wave doing 10.6 knots, a new record.