0600 position 15-57S 173-46W. At anchor in 32 feet, sand bottom,
Niuatoputapu.
It is never easy. Over the previous twenty four hours the wind backed
from east to north to west to south, and this morning it continued backing
and ended up coming out of the east again as we made our final approach to
Niuatoputapu. Down wind in light air, just like our final approach into
Christmas. It delayed our arrival a bit as we tacked downwind, but we
were off the channel entrance at noon and were anchored off of the
island's pier at 1230. This is a wonderful anchorage. Great holding in
the lee of the island, very protected from all directions, and beautiful
with the views of Tafahi, a high volcanic cone island five miles to the
north, and the island and motus of Niuatoputapu. The anchorage could hold
hundreds of boats easily and safely, but this time we are the only boat
here. Google "photos Niuatoputapu" for an idea of what it looks like
here.
After relaxing and having a celebratory beer, we cleaned up the boat,
launched the dinghy, and Rocky took me ashore where I assembled one of our
folding bicycles so I could go chase down some officials to get us checked
in to Tonga.
I had a very interesting bike ride the mile and a half into town. There
are at least a dozen free roaming pigs in all of the yards here. They are
often out on the street and appear quite tame and happy as they graze and
forage for food. I also passed some horses on the street that appeared to
be wandering free. What I didn't see was any human productivity of any
kind. I saw some people, but they weren't doing anything at 2PM on a
Thursday. I missed the turn off for customs and immigration so had a good
tour or the south half of the island. I never saw any kind of a store
either. Strange. I eventually backtracked and found the officials who
decided that 2:45 was too late in the day to check us in so we have an
appointment at 9AM tomorrow.
Many thanks to all who responded for the excellent advice on my electrical
issues. I am still trying to figure things out here, but have much better
handle on the problem. At anchor things become less critical because I
only have a single significant load - the refrigerator. Autopilot is off
and the computer can be shut down when we aren't communicating or watching
a movie. Last night we watched "Anchorman 2". You might want to skip it
if you haven't seen it.
A good night's sleep makes everything seem better. Wish us luck with
Customs, and after that we are talking about a bike ride around the
island.
Thursday, May 22, 2014
Wednesday, May 21, 2014
22 May - Another Challenging Day
0600 position 15-51S 173-13W. Day's run 124 miles. 31 miles west of
Niuatoputapu.
We are three for three now on having a tough time of it the day before we
make landfall. Christmas Island found us becalmed, Suwarrow found us
beset by squalls, and we've just dealt with some kind of a front here on
our approach to Niuatoputapu.
The wind had been slowly backing to the north as predicted by the gribs,
but then at about 2PM it came right out of the west as the front hit us.
Of course, we are trying to head west, so the best we could do was forty
degrees or so south of our desired course. The seas built. We were
slamming to windward. Reef in, reef out, slow going, and lots of rain.
Finally at about 8PM the wind shifted to the south west, we tacked, and
could finally head west again. Of course, we were slamming worse than
ever in the left over chop from the six hours of west wind, and it was
still raining. After the sun set it was pitch black outside in the 100%
overcast and rain. It was hard to get perspective to stand up let alone
get a feel for direction in the shifting winds. Rocky had the worst of it
on his watch. After I came up at midnight, the left over chop from the
west finally died off and the moon rose under the cloud cover behind us.
The wind continued to back to the south, and we could ease sheets and
reach for the barn.
When I came on deck at midnight, Rocky commented on how it was getting
cooler, and I put on my sweatshirt tonight for the first time since
leaving the area of the Hawaiian Islands. We are close to the beginning
of the Southern Hemisphere winter, and we are starting to feel it.
The gribs indicated that we'd have to deal with some kind of system
passage, but the pretty arrows on the chart plotter made it look so easy.
Matt and I are hoping to hitch on to a few of these frontal systems when
we head east for Tahiti in a few months. These systems move to the east
and if we position ourselves correctly we should be able to ride the
westerly winds we were just fighting. We'll see.
We should arrive in Niuatoputapu about 11AM today. I had never heard of
this island until I started my research for this trip. It is part of the
northernost of the four Tongan Island groups, and is often used as the
port of entry for yachts arriving in Tonga from the North. The anchorage
is supposed to be calm and safe and the island beautiful. I can't wait to
see it.
Lori has received questions about how we deal with man overboard. I've
already discussed what we would do if a crew member discovers that his
shipmate has become separated from the boat. That is the worst case
scenario, so we take reasonable precautions to ensure that nobody gets
separated from the boat.
It is mandatory that anybody whose feet leave the cockpit floor when on
deck alone is clipped to the boat with a safety harness. The harnesses
can be clipped to jacklines that run bow to stern on each side of the
boat, or to backstays, toe rails, or hand rails in the cockpit. Harness
requirement may become more restrictive in bad weather at the discretion
of the skipper. Moku pe'a has a low swim step with a ladder at the stern
that can be easily reached from the water if directly behind the boat.
The boat also has an emergency web ladder, a gift from Mike Morelli, that
is tied to the leeward corner of the transom. The web ladder has a loop
that hangs down and if pulled, the ladder deploys. If the lone watch
stander falls over while clipped in, he should be able to grab either the
rope ladder or built in ladder in the transom or make enough noise to get
the attention of his shipmate who can then help with his recovery.
Niuatoputapu.
We are three for three now on having a tough time of it the day before we
make landfall. Christmas Island found us becalmed, Suwarrow found us
beset by squalls, and we've just dealt with some kind of a front here on
our approach to Niuatoputapu.
The wind had been slowly backing to the north as predicted by the gribs,
but then at about 2PM it came right out of the west as the front hit us.
Of course, we are trying to head west, so the best we could do was forty
degrees or so south of our desired course. The seas built. We were
slamming to windward. Reef in, reef out, slow going, and lots of rain.
Finally at about 8PM the wind shifted to the south west, we tacked, and
could finally head west again. Of course, we were slamming worse than
ever in the left over chop from the six hours of west wind, and it was
still raining. After the sun set it was pitch black outside in the 100%
overcast and rain. It was hard to get perspective to stand up let alone
get a feel for direction in the shifting winds. Rocky had the worst of it
on his watch. After I came up at midnight, the left over chop from the
west finally died off and the moon rose under the cloud cover behind us.
The wind continued to back to the south, and we could ease sheets and
reach for the barn.
When I came on deck at midnight, Rocky commented on how it was getting
cooler, and I put on my sweatshirt tonight for the first time since
leaving the area of the Hawaiian Islands. We are close to the beginning
of the Southern Hemisphere winter, and we are starting to feel it.
The gribs indicated that we'd have to deal with some kind of system
passage, but the pretty arrows on the chart plotter made it look so easy.
Matt and I are hoping to hitch on to a few of these frontal systems when
we head east for Tahiti in a few months. These systems move to the east
and if we position ourselves correctly we should be able to ride the
westerly winds we were just fighting. We'll see.
We should arrive in Niuatoputapu about 11AM today. I had never heard of
this island until I started my research for this trip. It is part of the
northernost of the four Tongan Island groups, and is often used as the
port of entry for yachts arriving in Tonga from the North. The anchorage
is supposed to be calm and safe and the island beautiful. I can't wait to
see it.
Lori has received questions about how we deal with man overboard. I've
already discussed what we would do if a crew member discovers that his
shipmate has become separated from the boat. That is the worst case
scenario, so we take reasonable precautions to ensure that nobody gets
separated from the boat.
It is mandatory that anybody whose feet leave the cockpit floor when on
deck alone is clipped to the boat with a safety harness. The harnesses
can be clipped to jacklines that run bow to stern on each side of the
boat, or to backstays, toe rails, or hand rails in the cockpit. Harness
requirement may become more restrictive in bad weather at the discretion
of the skipper. Moku pe'a has a low swim step with a ladder at the stern
that can be easily reached from the water if directly behind the boat.
The boat also has an emergency web ladder, a gift from Mike Morelli, that
is tied to the leeward corner of the transom. The web ladder has a loop
that hangs down and if pulled, the ladder deploys. If the lone watch
stander falls over while clipped in, he should be able to grab either the
rope ladder or built in ladder in the transom or make enough noise to get
the attention of his shipmate who can then help with his recovery.
Tuesday, May 20, 2014
21 May - Land Ho!
0600 position 15-10S 171-12W. Day's run 131 miles
Fresh foods like cheese, meats, and eggs will be confiscated if there are
any left aboard when we reach Niuatoputapu, so at 1130 this morning I cut
up some of our remaining cheese and took it and some crackers on deck to
share with Rocky. We were sitting there enjoying our snack and I glanced
at the horizon to the north. "Huh, that looks like…. Holy Cow (not the
exact word used)! It's an island!" I could clearly see the outline of a
high island. It looked like a single volcanic cone. Navigators aren't
supposed to be surprised by stuff like land, so I took a bearing, rushed
below, and fired up the laptop and navigation software (we have been
shutting it down to conserve energy). Sure enough, it was Tau Island, one
of the easternmost Samoan islands. And sure enough it is a 3100 foot high
volcanic cone. It was twenty six miles away. Tau Island was right where
it was supposed to be, but I hadn't anticipated that we'd be able to see
it from that far away.
This afternoon I was entertained by little aku jumping all around the
boat for a number of hours. We were also accompanied by three tropic
birds that were diving for fish from about 100 feet up. I suppose the
tropic birds and aku were feeding on the same thing, but I never did see
the bait fish. Just after sunset a boobie decided that Moku pe'a would be
a good place to rest for the evening. Rocky was doing a wind check and
found him perched on the windex on top of the mast. We yelled and shined
our flashlights on him and he took off. Next he tried to land on the wind
generator. Lucky for him the blades weren't turning. We had to yell and
shine our flashlights on him a number of times to scare him away. The
bastard even crapped all over the bimini and dodger before he was
finished.
Rocky was able to see the loom of Pago Pago, American Samoa which was
about forty miles to the north during his evening watch but the moon had
risen by the time I came up at midnight providing too much ambient light
for me to see it. I did see a ship on my early morning watch though. It
was heading north, perhaps for Pago Pago, and passed astern of us.
The wind has slowly backed around to the north, just like the gribs
predicted, but we have had to live with squalls every hour or so that
produced dramatic changes in wind direction and strength, and rain. It is
keeping us busy on watch.
We receive our weather information by email over the sat phone. A free
Internet service called "Saildocs" extracts whatever weather data we
request from NOAA's world wide weather model, attaches it to an email, and
sends it to us daily. This is all done by a computer based on a coded
request that I submitted. After we are done messing with the satellite
phone for the day, I'll extract the weather, or "grib" file, from the
email we received and import it into our navigation software on the
computer. I can then see the weather forecast for whatever interval I
requested from Saildocs. For this passage I requested a 1, 2, 3, 5 and 7
day forecast for the part of the ocean we are interested in. Each
forecast looks like a bunch of arrows on the chart that indicate wind
speed and direction over the area between our starting point and
destination. We have to deal with whatever comes our way, but knowing
what kind of weather we are going to have in the future allows us to
optimize our routing to take us to our destination as quickly,
comfortably, and safely as possible
Fresh foods like cheese, meats, and eggs will be confiscated if there are
any left aboard when we reach Niuatoputapu, so at 1130 this morning I cut
up some of our remaining cheese and took it and some crackers on deck to
share with Rocky. We were sitting there enjoying our snack and I glanced
at the horizon to the north. "Huh, that looks like…. Holy Cow (not the
exact word used)! It's an island!" I could clearly see the outline of a
high island. It looked like a single volcanic cone. Navigators aren't
supposed to be surprised by stuff like land, so I took a bearing, rushed
below, and fired up the laptop and navigation software (we have been
shutting it down to conserve energy). Sure enough, it was Tau Island, one
of the easternmost Samoan islands. And sure enough it is a 3100 foot high
volcanic cone. It was twenty six miles away. Tau Island was right where
it was supposed to be, but I hadn't anticipated that we'd be able to see
it from that far away.
This afternoon I was entertained by little aku jumping all around the
boat for a number of hours. We were also accompanied by three tropic
birds that were diving for fish from about 100 feet up. I suppose the
tropic birds and aku were feeding on the same thing, but I never did see
the bait fish. Just after sunset a boobie decided that Moku pe'a would be
a good place to rest for the evening. Rocky was doing a wind check and
found him perched on the windex on top of the mast. We yelled and shined
our flashlights on him and he took off. Next he tried to land on the wind
generator. Lucky for him the blades weren't turning. We had to yell and
shine our flashlights on him a number of times to scare him away. The
bastard even crapped all over the bimini and dodger before he was
finished.
Rocky was able to see the loom of Pago Pago, American Samoa which was
about forty miles to the north during his evening watch but the moon had
risen by the time I came up at midnight providing too much ambient light
for me to see it. I did see a ship on my early morning watch though. It
was heading north, perhaps for Pago Pago, and passed astern of us.
The wind has slowly backed around to the north, just like the gribs
predicted, but we have had to live with squalls every hour or so that
produced dramatic changes in wind direction and strength, and rain. It is
keeping us busy on watch.
We receive our weather information by email over the sat phone. A free
Internet service called "Saildocs" extracts whatever weather data we
request from NOAA's world wide weather model, attaches it to an email, and
sends it to us daily. This is all done by a computer based on a coded
request that I submitted. After we are done messing with the satellite
phone for the day, I'll extract the weather, or "grib" file, from the
email we received and import it into our navigation software on the
computer. I can then see the weather forecast for whatever interval I
requested from Saildocs. For this passage I requested a 1, 2, 3, 5 and 7
day forecast for the part of the ocean we are interested in. Each
forecast looks like a bunch of arrows on the chart that indicate wind
speed and direction over the area between our starting point and
destination. We have to deal with whatever comes our way, but knowing
what kind of weather we are going to have in the future allows us to
optimize our routing to take us to our destination as quickly,
comfortably, and safely as possible
Monday, May 19, 2014
20 May - Moseying
0600 position 14-29S 169-04W. Day's run 119 miles.
"Hey Rocky, what's happening?" I asked as I came on deck for my afternoon
watch.
"Just moseying", he replied. And that's pretty much how today went, just
moseying along. Wind from almost directly behind us all day, never more
than ten knots, sometimes down to about three knots. We spent most of the
day wing and wing and did some reaching later in the afternoon when I
thought the wind was coming forward as forecast. But the wind came aft
again and died. At least the swell has died down too, so there is no
violent slatting, just mild slatting.
We passed by Rose Island, a U.S. Fish and Wildlife National Wildlife
Refuge, about fifteen miles off at sunset. Why does the U.S. have a
wildlife refuge out here more than 4000 miles from the continental U.S?
Our wind generator is useless in these conditions and the solar panels
can't keep up with the load, so we powered for an hour this morning and
again this evening to charge batteries and get us down the road faster
than we can sail. However, we need wind. We don't have enough fuel to
power all the way to Tonga.
The refer started working again when I turned on the engine this morning
and it worked all day until the voltage got low again overnight. More
voltage seems to hide whatever problems it has, but I still don't think
low voltage was the problem since I measured it at the unit and voltage
was within spec there. This afternoon I rigged a jumper that runs
directly from the negative house battery terminal to the negative bus
behind the control panel bypassing a main disconnect switch and perhaps
other connections that are hidden away. It might have helped, but nothing
obvious and the voltage still surges as the autopilot engages. I'm going
to leave it on for a few days to see if things improve. If not, I'll
switch it over to the positive side of the panel feed circuit and see what
happens.
Something hit one of Randy Reed's lures this morning just after I put it
out. I was below at the time and didn't see the fish, but the skirts got
trashed and the lure has been relegated to "injured reserve" status. The
leader got all nicked up as far as two feet away from the hook. Billfish
perhaps?
On hot, calm days like today a cold beer sure would be nice, but no booze
is being consumed while at sea during the trip to Tonga. There's plenty
aboard, but Rocky and I are taking this opportunity to dry out a bit.
We've discussed it, and both agree that we probably consume more than we
should during our daily lives ashore. It's just so easy, and fun, to stop
by the yacht club bar on the way up from working on the boat to have a
beer with the boys… and then another… We've also both lost friends and
family to the bottle. It won't hurt us to take a break. And another
plus; after a few days without beer I don't smell as bad.
"Hey Rocky, what's happening?" I asked as I came on deck for my afternoon
watch.
"Just moseying", he replied. And that's pretty much how today went, just
moseying along. Wind from almost directly behind us all day, never more
than ten knots, sometimes down to about three knots. We spent most of the
day wing and wing and did some reaching later in the afternoon when I
thought the wind was coming forward as forecast. But the wind came aft
again and died. At least the swell has died down too, so there is no
violent slatting, just mild slatting.
We passed by Rose Island, a U.S. Fish and Wildlife National Wildlife
Refuge, about fifteen miles off at sunset. Why does the U.S. have a
wildlife refuge out here more than 4000 miles from the continental U.S?
Our wind generator is useless in these conditions and the solar panels
can't keep up with the load, so we powered for an hour this morning and
again this evening to charge batteries and get us down the road faster
than we can sail. However, we need wind. We don't have enough fuel to
power all the way to Tonga.
The refer started working again when I turned on the engine this morning
and it worked all day until the voltage got low again overnight. More
voltage seems to hide whatever problems it has, but I still don't think
low voltage was the problem since I measured it at the unit and voltage
was within spec there. This afternoon I rigged a jumper that runs
directly from the negative house battery terminal to the negative bus
behind the control panel bypassing a main disconnect switch and perhaps
other connections that are hidden away. It might have helped, but nothing
obvious and the voltage still surges as the autopilot engages. I'm going
to leave it on for a few days to see if things improve. If not, I'll
switch it over to the positive side of the panel feed circuit and see what
happens.
Something hit one of Randy Reed's lures this morning just after I put it
out. I was below at the time and didn't see the fish, but the skirts got
trashed and the lure has been relegated to "injured reserve" status. The
leader got all nicked up as far as two feet away from the hook. Billfish
perhaps?
On hot, calm days like today a cold beer sure would be nice, but no booze
is being consumed while at sea during the trip to Tonga. There's plenty
aboard, but Rocky and I are taking this opportunity to dry out a bit.
We've discussed it, and both agree that we probably consume more than we
should during our daily lives ashore. It's just so easy, and fun, to stop
by the yacht club bar on the way up from working on the boat to have a
beer with the boys… and then another… We've also both lost friends and
family to the bottle. It won't hurt us to take a break. And another
plus; after a few days without beer I don't smell as bad.
Sunday, May 18, 2014
19 May - What Would Captain Cook Do?
0600 position 13-54S 167-07W. Day's run 117 miles
This has been a tough day first trying to figure out what is wrong with
the autopilot and now the refrigerator is acting up. The refrigerator
has stopped working and I'm getting three different fault codes indicated
low voltage, overcharge, and I don't know what. I've checked at the unit
when it is trying to run and voltage is fine. I have never added freon
to the unit so it can't be overcharged. Sigh. I've sent an email to
the manufacturer for help. In the meantime, we are losing what is left
of our refrigerated food. That is not too big a deal though because we
had planned for it to be almost all used up when we arrived in Tonga
anyway.
I did discover a poor wiring connection (that I had originally installed)
for the autopilot behind the main panel. It actually fell off as I was
messing around back there. I'm not even sure if I touched it. I repaired
the connection so hopefully that was the problem with the autopilot,
although we are still seeing voltage drops when the actuator turns the
rudder.
I figure if my hero Captain Cook can work through these kinds of issues
then so can I.
I was in kind of a fog all day. I was chasing down these electrical
problems during my morning off watch and didn't get but thirty minutes
sleep. Rocky was kind to me tonight though. He let me sleep an extra
hour and a half past the end of his watch to catch up. Any of you who
have ever been to sea know what a big deal that is. He had been on watch
six hours already, was supposed to be off at midnight, and stayed up until
0130 when I woke up on my own. What a guy.
There was a low pressure system that passed through Tonga today moving
east to the south of us. It has interrupted the normal trade wind flow
and we have seen lighter winds today. We were still running wing and wing
all day, but had to heat it up to the north to keep from slatting
excessively. Very pleasant sailing. Looks like it may be light winds all
the way in to Niuatoputapu.
We played cribbage again today and I lost again, but it was close this
time.
Rocky has been seeing the moonrise lately during his early evening watch.
Moonrise at sea can be spectacular and also frightening if you don't know
it's coming. Thirty seven years ago I was in this same part of the ocean
aboard Bravura on a passage from Fanning Island to Western Samoa. There
was no wind so we were under power. I was on watch one pitch black night
with Gary, and we were taking turns driving while the other dozed on the
floor of the cockpit. At about 0300 Gary woke me shouting at the top of
his lungs, "They are running us down! We are being run down by a ship!"
I lept up to see what all the excitement was about, and there, directly
behind us, was the moon peeking through some gaps in the clouds. Gary had
seen it first as just a speck of light as it peeked over the horizon, and
assumed it was a ship. But the light grew quickly in size and intensity
until Gary was convinced that disaster was imminent. I knew immediately
that it was the moon because I had made the same mistake as a kid, and you
only make that mistake once. "That's not a ship, you moron, that's the
moon", I said, repeating verbatim the words a good friend had used with me
years earlier.
This has been a tough day first trying to figure out what is wrong with
the autopilot and now the refrigerator is acting up. The refrigerator
has stopped working and I'm getting three different fault codes indicated
low voltage, overcharge, and I don't know what. I've checked at the unit
when it is trying to run and voltage is fine. I have never added freon
to the unit so it can't be overcharged. Sigh. I've sent an email to
the manufacturer for help. In the meantime, we are losing what is left
of our refrigerated food. That is not too big a deal though because we
had planned for it to be almost all used up when we arrived in Tonga
anyway.
I did discover a poor wiring connection (that I had originally installed)
for the autopilot behind the main panel. It actually fell off as I was
messing around back there. I'm not even sure if I touched it. I repaired
the connection so hopefully that was the problem with the autopilot,
although we are still seeing voltage drops when the actuator turns the
rudder.
I figure if my hero Captain Cook can work through these kinds of issues
then so can I.
I was in kind of a fog all day. I was chasing down these electrical
problems during my morning off watch and didn't get but thirty minutes
sleep. Rocky was kind to me tonight though. He let me sleep an extra
hour and a half past the end of his watch to catch up. Any of you who
have ever been to sea know what a big deal that is. He had been on watch
six hours already, was supposed to be off at midnight, and stayed up until
0130 when I woke up on my own. What a guy.
There was a low pressure system that passed through Tonga today moving
east to the south of us. It has interrupted the normal trade wind flow
and we have seen lighter winds today. We were still running wing and wing
all day, but had to heat it up to the north to keep from slatting
excessively. Very pleasant sailing. Looks like it may be light winds all
the way in to Niuatoputapu.
We played cribbage again today and I lost again, but it was close this
time.
Rocky has been seeing the moonrise lately during his early evening watch.
Moonrise at sea can be spectacular and also frightening if you don't know
it's coming. Thirty seven years ago I was in this same part of the ocean
aboard Bravura on a passage from Fanning Island to Western Samoa. There
was no wind so we were under power. I was on watch one pitch black night
with Gary, and we were taking turns driving while the other dozed on the
floor of the cockpit. At about 0300 Gary woke me shouting at the top of
his lungs, "They are running us down! We are being run down by a ship!"
I lept up to see what all the excitement was about, and there, directly
behind us, was the moon peeking through some gaps in the clouds. Gary had
seen it first as just a speck of light as it peeked over the horizon, and
assumed it was a ship. But the light grew quickly in size and intensity
until Gary was convinced that disaster was imminent. I knew immediately
that it was the moon because I had made the same mistake as a kid, and you
only make that mistake once. "That's not a ship, you moron, that's the
moon", I said, repeating verbatim the words a good friend had used with me
years earlier.
15 May - Suwarrow at Last
Sorry this didn't get posted on 15 May. My sat phone email manager
indicated that it transmitted properly. Apparently it did not.
0600 position 13-15S 163-07W. At anchor in 32', sand and coral bottom.
Suwarrow Atoll
The first two thirds of the passage were lovely. Last third, not so much.
We are both glad it is over.
A huge squall nailed us at 0800 this morning. That's happened a lot in
the last few days, but after this one passed we were left wallowing for an
hour in the vacuum behind it. We knew we were cutting it close making it
in to Suwarrow before the sun got too low as it was. Removing an hour of
sailing time being becalmed just added to the tension and uncertainty. We
were not going to give up though, so we worked as hard as we could to keep
the boat moving until the wind filled in again. Steady winds never did
fill in again. The gribs said we'd have sixteen knots from the east, but
wind strength varied from three to thirty knots and the direction swung up
to forty degrees all day. That squall was the first of many we had to
deal with. For ten hours it was jib in, jib out, head up, fall off, reef
in, reef out. I didn't sleep after the squall hit, and we were never
certain until about 1500 that we'd make it in time, but we did.
We arrived at Anchorage Island, Suwarrow Atoll at 1600 to find two other
cruising boats moored here, a forty foot catamaran and fifty foot sloop.
No sooner had the anchor gone down than we were surrounded by about a
dozen four foot long black tipped sharks. Deja vu all over again, and we
weren't even cleaning fish this time! The sharks have stayed with us.
Even after dark we could see them circling the boat. Looks like "man
overboard" here would have more dire consequences than if it occurred at
sea.
We cleaned the boat up, popped a couple of beers, played a game of
cribbage, had some dinner, and went to sleep. Dinghy launching,
socializing with our neighbors, and checking in with the authorities (if
any are here) can wait until tomorrow. Now it's time for some overdue
sleep.
Rocky adds the following: "Today was a special day for me. Some of you
are quite familiar with the talent of Bill Leary others not so much. I
got to witness and help out a little bit with a sailing force. To explain:
We estimated anchoring at Suwarrow tonight. Well the wind and squalls
were playing havoc with those plans. When we sailed out of one squall with
all the wind sucked out we were down to two or three knots. This was
severely messing with the plan. Bill's (Noodle) eyes became steely and
mere slits. Noodle has moved from cruise mode to race mode. He was not
going to let the clock beat him. For the next ten hours he rarely sat
down. There were adjustments to the sail trim at least every few minutes
more and more as we came in and out of squalls. He needed to do all
himself so as to save time, rather than explaining just how much he wanted
the sheet to come in or out; It was just a thrill for me to watch the
focus and intensity studying the sails constantly for any wrinkle or
bubble that should not be there for maximum performance. It is easy to see
why he had such a successful racing Career. At a go Noodle."
indicated that it transmitted properly. Apparently it did not.
0600 position 13-15S 163-07W. At anchor in 32', sand and coral bottom.
Suwarrow Atoll
The first two thirds of the passage were lovely. Last third, not so much.
We are both glad it is over.
A huge squall nailed us at 0800 this morning. That's happened a lot in
the last few days, but after this one passed we were left wallowing for an
hour in the vacuum behind it. We knew we were cutting it close making it
in to Suwarrow before the sun got too low as it was. Removing an hour of
sailing time being becalmed just added to the tension and uncertainty. We
were not going to give up though, so we worked as hard as we could to keep
the boat moving until the wind filled in again. Steady winds never did
fill in again. The gribs said we'd have sixteen knots from the east, but
wind strength varied from three to thirty knots and the direction swung up
to forty degrees all day. That squall was the first of many we had to
deal with. For ten hours it was jib in, jib out, head up, fall off, reef
in, reef out. I didn't sleep after the squall hit, and we were never
certain until about 1500 that we'd make it in time, but we did.
We arrived at Anchorage Island, Suwarrow Atoll at 1600 to find two other
cruising boats moored here, a forty foot catamaran and fifty foot sloop.
No sooner had the anchor gone down than we were surrounded by about a
dozen four foot long black tipped sharks. Deja vu all over again, and we
weren't even cleaning fish this time! The sharks have stayed with us.
Even after dark we could see them circling the boat. Looks like "man
overboard" here would have more dire consequences than if it occurred at
sea.
We cleaned the boat up, popped a couple of beers, played a game of
cribbage, had some dinner, and went to sleep. Dinghy launching,
socializing with our neighbors, and checking in with the authorities (if
any are here) can wait until tomorrow. Now it's time for some overdue
sleep.
Rocky adds the following: "Today was a special day for me. Some of you
are quite familiar with the talent of Bill Leary others not so much. I
got to witness and help out a little bit with a sailing force. To explain:
We estimated anchoring at Suwarrow tonight. Well the wind and squalls
were playing havoc with those plans. When we sailed out of one squall with
all the wind sucked out we were down to two or three knots. This was
severely messing with the plan. Bill's (Noodle) eyes became steely and
mere slits. Noodle has moved from cruise mode to race mode. He was not
going to let the clock beat him. For the next ten hours he rarely sat
down. There were adjustments to the sail trim at least every few minutes
more and more as we came in and out of squalls. He needed to do all
himself so as to save time, rather than explaining just how much he wanted
the sheet to come in or out; It was just a thrill for me to watch the
focus and intensity studying the sails constantly for any wrinkle or
bubble that should not be there for maximum performance. It is easy to see
why he had such a successful racing Career. At a go Noodle."
Saturday, May 17, 2014
18 May - Niuatoputapu or Bust!
0600 position 13-39S 165-09W. 122 miles from Suwarrow Atoll
Wait a minute, you say. It's not the 18th of May, it's the 17th. Ah,
that depends on where you are. Somewhere in this passage to Tonga we will
be crossing the international dateline and it will be tomorrow today, so
we decided to adjust our clocks and our calendars when we left Suwarrow.
It puts the clocks more in sync with the sun's position now compared to
when we left Hawaii and we won't need to change anything once we arrive in
Tonga.
In my last post I neglected to mention one of the most exciting and
meaningful of yesterday's experiences. Clean sheets. We are well past
the half way point, time wise, of our journey and we have two sets of
sheets for each of us aboard the boat. As dry below as Moku pe'a is,
there is still salt everywhere, and it gets on everything, including our
bodies and especially our feet. After you get in and out of bed a few
times, you've transferred some of that salt from your feet and legs to
the sheets and from then on the sheets are constantly sticky and damp.
Yuck. It just gets worse and worse until we either wash the sheets or
replace them. So we slept great our first night at anchor with clean
sheets. However, I've already been in and out a few times and they are
starting to get sticky again. Sigh.
Last night Tom, a rally cruiser from Maine that we met, came over with a
pomplamouse (jabong, pomelo) and a couple of limes for us that they had
picked up in Bora Bora. Ooooooh. Of course, we invited him to help us
get rid of one of the limes by mixing it with rum and we had a great time.
He's on a Swan 51, the oldest, cheapest ($500K), and as he is so proud of
saying, fastest boat in the rally.
We put the pomplamouse in the reefer and had it for breakfast this
morning. So good. Then put the dinghy away, cleaned up for sea, and had
the anchor up at 1000. We departed Suwarrow's pass just as another boat
was entering. It really is crowded out here! Left turn past Anchorage
Island, jybe at Turtle Island, put the jib out on the pole, and we were on
our way dead down wind to Niuatoputapu, Tonga, 638 miles away.
Late this afternoon we spent about twenty minutes sailing though an area
full of feeding birds and tuna. We could see the tuna (looked like small
ahi to me) jumping, hitting the surface, and darting around just below the
surface all around the boat. Flying fish were scattering and I saw one
get picked off by a bird in flight. Nice to know that there are still a
lot of fish in some parts of the ocean.
We hooked into a nice seven pound rainbow runner off of the point at
Turtle Island this morning and had him for dinner sauted in a garlic, lime
(no lemons), butter, caper sauce over pasta with a little parmesan cheese
and green beans. Outstanding.
This downwind sailing is what the "Coconut Milk Run", the annual sailboat
migration from North America to New Zealand, is all about. No tipping, no
water on deck, seven knots of speed in the right direction. I could get
used to this. Rocky wanted me to be sure to mention how stunning it was
tonight. Full moon, wing and wing, slip sliding down the face of the
waves, perfect no shirt temperature on deck. Hopefully it will be just
like this all the way to Tonga, but the gribs say that a low passing to
the south will mess it up for us for during the second half of this leg.
The only thing that marred tonight's perfection was some problems with the
autopilot. It shuts down and restarts, effectively going from "active" to
"standby" mode due to undervoltage at the control module. You can imagine
the excitement when that happens and the boat spins out…. I've studied
the problem, and there is a momentary voltage drop at the main electrical
panel whenever the autopilot actuator engages to turn the wheel. If the
batteries aren't completely topped up and there is a large load on the
system (autopilot, refrigerator, computer, and some lights all on), then
the voltage gets low enough during the momentary drop at the autopilot
(10.5 volts) to shut the unit off. Note that voltage at the batteries was
12.1 volts, an acceptable level. An instant after the autopilot shuts off
the load goes away, the voltage rises above 10.5 volts, and the autopilot
restarts going to its default standby mode. I think that either the
wiring between the batteries and the panel is too small (because we are
seeing both the momentary voltage drop there and voltage at the panel is
approximately 0.3 volts less than at the batteries) or there is excessive
resistance in a connection somewhere between the batteries and the panel.
Could be on either the positive or negative side of the circuit. When it
gets light I will try to jump both sides of the panel feed circuit to see
if I get any improvement and hopefully isolate the problem. Any of you
electrical engineers/electricians/electronic geniuses have any ideas for
me? Respond to the blog or email Lori if you do and it will get to me via
email.
Wait a minute, you say. It's not the 18th of May, it's the 17th. Ah,
that depends on where you are. Somewhere in this passage to Tonga we will
be crossing the international dateline and it will be tomorrow today, so
we decided to adjust our clocks and our calendars when we left Suwarrow.
It puts the clocks more in sync with the sun's position now compared to
when we left Hawaii and we won't need to change anything once we arrive in
Tonga.
In my last post I neglected to mention one of the most exciting and
meaningful of yesterday's experiences. Clean sheets. We are well past
the half way point, time wise, of our journey and we have two sets of
sheets for each of us aboard the boat. As dry below as Moku pe'a is,
there is still salt everywhere, and it gets on everything, including our
bodies and especially our feet. After you get in and out of bed a few
times, you've transferred some of that salt from your feet and legs to
the sheets and from then on the sheets are constantly sticky and damp.
Yuck. It just gets worse and worse until we either wash the sheets or
replace them. So we slept great our first night at anchor with clean
sheets. However, I've already been in and out a few times and they are
starting to get sticky again. Sigh.
Last night Tom, a rally cruiser from Maine that we met, came over with a
pomplamouse (jabong, pomelo) and a couple of limes for us that they had
picked up in Bora Bora. Ooooooh. Of course, we invited him to help us
get rid of one of the limes by mixing it with rum and we had a great time.
He's on a Swan 51, the oldest, cheapest ($500K), and as he is so proud of
saying, fastest boat in the rally.
We put the pomplamouse in the reefer and had it for breakfast this
morning. So good. Then put the dinghy away, cleaned up for sea, and had
the anchor up at 1000. We departed Suwarrow's pass just as another boat
was entering. It really is crowded out here! Left turn past Anchorage
Island, jybe at Turtle Island, put the jib out on the pole, and we were on
our way dead down wind to Niuatoputapu, Tonga, 638 miles away.
Late this afternoon we spent about twenty minutes sailing though an area
full of feeding birds and tuna. We could see the tuna (looked like small
ahi to me) jumping, hitting the surface, and darting around just below the
surface all around the boat. Flying fish were scattering and I saw one
get picked off by a bird in flight. Nice to know that there are still a
lot of fish in some parts of the ocean.
We hooked into a nice seven pound rainbow runner off of the point at
Turtle Island this morning and had him for dinner sauted in a garlic, lime
(no lemons), butter, caper sauce over pasta with a little parmesan cheese
and green beans. Outstanding.
This downwind sailing is what the "Coconut Milk Run", the annual sailboat
migration from North America to New Zealand, is all about. No tipping, no
water on deck, seven knots of speed in the right direction. I could get
used to this. Rocky wanted me to be sure to mention how stunning it was
tonight. Full moon, wing and wing, slip sliding down the face of the
waves, perfect no shirt temperature on deck. Hopefully it will be just
like this all the way to Tonga, but the gribs say that a low passing to
the south will mess it up for us for during the second half of this leg.
The only thing that marred tonight's perfection was some problems with the
autopilot. It shuts down and restarts, effectively going from "active" to
"standby" mode due to undervoltage at the control module. You can imagine
the excitement when that happens and the boat spins out…. I've studied
the problem, and there is a momentary voltage drop at the main electrical
panel whenever the autopilot actuator engages to turn the wheel. If the
batteries aren't completely topped up and there is a large load on the
system (autopilot, refrigerator, computer, and some lights all on), then
the voltage gets low enough during the momentary drop at the autopilot
(10.5 volts) to shut the unit off. Note that voltage at the batteries was
12.1 volts, an acceptable level. An instant after the autopilot shuts off
the load goes away, the voltage rises above 10.5 volts, and the autopilot
restarts going to its default standby mode. I think that either the
wiring between the batteries and the panel is too small (because we are
seeing both the momentary voltage drop there and voltage at the panel is
approximately 0.3 volts less than at the batteries) or there is excessive
resistance in a connection somewhere between the batteries and the panel.
Could be on either the positive or negative side of the circuit. When it
gets light I will try to jump both sides of the panel feed circuit to see
if I get any improvement and hopefully isolate the problem. Any of you
electrical engineers/electricians/electronic geniuses have any ideas for
me? Respond to the blog or email Lori if you do and it will get to me via
email.
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