After a couple of days in Viani we decided to head for the north end of Taveuni to try and position the boat for our jump to the Lau. As we were motoring out of Viani we noticed no raw water coming out of the port engine exhaust so we went back into Viani to try and fix the problem. A few hrs cursing in the engine room (everything is harder with just 9 fingers), and I think I have it fixed so we set out again for Taveuni.

Within just a few miles, the raw water stops flowing and we have to shut down the port engine. At this point we are in Somosomo straits with 3 kt favorable current and a nice 10-15 kt beam wind so we push on motor sailing on the starboard engine alone. Then, as we cross the dateline at 180 degrees longitude and approach the north end of Taveuni, the wind starts to build... 20 kts... 25 kts... 30 kts... 35 kts... gusting over 40 kts! Some kind of accelerated cape effect was funneling wind bombs down on us one after the other and it was getting ugly. Cushions started flying around the cockpit, the scrap of jib was overpowering the boat and the one engine could not maintain steerage. At this point the Captain made an executive decision and said: "F!@# this!" and the Admiral concurred. So we bore off and ran downwind for Nasua Bay, the opposite direction from our goal. As we increased the distance from Taveuni the wind softened to 15 kts and we motored into Nasau Bay on one engine in failing light when we heard a sudden "whump" and the engine changed pitch and lost power. Turns out we'd wrapped the prop in a large plastic potato sack. Now, with minimal power we needed to anchor the boat quickly before it got too dark, so we made for the back of the bay looking for a good bottom. We almost found it the hard way when the depth changed abruptly from 60 ft to 8 ft and we literally put Bangorang's bows over a reef. We didn't hit though thanks mostly to Wendy's quick action reversing our one bagged and shagged engine and a small contribution from my frantic shouting on the bow.

Eventually we got the boat anchored in another part of the bay in front of a small house whose owner promptly paddled out, introduced himself as Harry, Jack's nephew and offered us the use of his mooring. I asked him if the mooring was strong and he said yes it was. It turned out to be an enormous loop of 2 inch hawser line attached to who knows what in 60 ft of water. This worked out well for us despite building winds and swell in the bay over the next 2 days while we cleared the starboard prop and sorted out the raw water supply on the port side engine. Harry would take no money for his mooring, so we gave him some flower and fishhooks which he seemed to appreciate.