What a difference 48 hours can make when sailing from New Zealand to Fiji. Really, it absolutely should be that way. The route is essentially a bee-line from south to north, going from a mild, temperate (yet winter) climate in the high latitudes to the tropics in a one-week, 1,200 mile non-stop passage. In the past few days, our compass has often read 000 degrees - pointing due north.

If we were in the northern hemisphere, an equivalent passage in terms of distance and change in latitude would be Santa Cruz, California to Acapulco, Mexico. That passage would be north to south as opposed to our current bottom-side-of-the-world south to north, but you get the idea. While they may be on opposite sides of the planet, Santa Cruz and central coastal California have a lot in common with the North Island of New Zealand relative to climate - and maybe even culture. It's no wonder we like the place so much. North Island's climate (and attitude) is rather Californian. More NorCal than SoCal, but similar none-the-less.

Having never been to Fiji, I hesitate to say that it has the same climate as southern Mexico, but tropics is tropics, right? Today feels very Mexico-like and it should. At the moment we are sailing in the same latitude as Baja Mexico's Cabo San Lucas, only we're on the winter side of the planet. Put another way, we are sailing in Cabo's November weather, although in Cabo at the moment, it's May. Confused? Sorry. Let's just say it's pleasantly warming here at 21 degrees south.

2 days ago we were in blowing cold, wearing fleece in the day and down coats at night. No, not cold by Montana standards - I fear we've gotten pretty soft on our cold toleration. But it was chilly, like sailing across the Strait of Juan de Fuca at night. In November.

Today temperatures are in the 90's, the spinnaker is up and flying in light wind with warm sunshine and broken clouds. Melody is busy putting away the winter sailing clothes, which we wore even last night while doing our watches up at the helm. Those clothes will get buried deep in the boat somewhere as I doubt we'll need them again until the next time we return to the cooler climate of the high latitudes. October perhaps?

We will also shut off the hot water loop that is connected to our diesel furnace and heats the cabins in Double Diamond. Until we return to colder climes, the furnace will now only be used to heat the hot water tank. Even in the tropics it's nice to take a warm shower or wash the dishes in warm water, but there's now no need to provide heat to the whole boat.

Another sign of the tropics? Mahi-Mahi! We had two of them on at the same time yesterday, but could not land the big bull. He shook the hook right as we got him to the back of the steps. But... we had his 36" girlfriend for dinner. Kinda sad, given how they say they come in pairs, but still... She made a pretty tasty evening meal and fish tacos for lunch. We're fishing again today. Melody says the freezer has room.

With the now-calm(er) conditions, we are sailing at a pretty slow pace of four or five knots. Sometimes three. But the slower speeds do have an upside. We could make it to Fiji much faster than our current projection of late Sunday if we sailed faster (which we cannot do, given the low wind speeds) or turned on the engines (which we prefer not to do - sailing is so much more pleasant and... green).

However.

Given that we are less than 300 miles away from our destination, if we traveled faster, chances are that we would arrive smack dab in the middle of the weekend. Rumor has it that Fiji Customs will check arrivals in on a Saturday or Sunday, but that they may have an extra "overtime" weekend charge for doing so. If true, it makes sense to us.

So... Our aim is to arrive late Sunday (Saturday for you Western Hemisphere-ites), anchor out and wait until Monday morning to "request pratique" - that fancy nautical term for hoisting the yellow Q flag, signaling Customs that we would like to check in to the country.

Playing today: Lucky Dube "The Other Side"