10/15/2010
Today we crossed the tropic of Capricorn. I have been surprised at how cool it has been, mid 70s by day, 60s at night but I realize that it is early spring, and we are now south of 25 degrees. I am glad for the break from the heat. I have actually put on my foul jacket at night, the first time since before Hilo.
Yesterday, for only the second time on the trip, we got out our asymmetrical Spinnaker. Like the first time, we didn't get to use it for long. The first time the wind built up beyond the safe zone for this light air sail. This time the wind died 30 minutes after we raised it. Oh well, it was pretty to look at for a while.
We have motorsailed in light wind for 38 of the first 48 hours of the trip. This was part of the trip plan, I had generally a good weather window but light wind and calm seas at the outset. This passage should only be 6 days and as I have multiple forecasts for stronger wind the rest of the way I am not too concerned about fuel. I only need to sail about 30 of the remaining 100 hours to get in without having to touch my reserve cans in the hold. It would be a pain to fill with them at sea, but it is nice to know they are there.
This morning the wind has been building up to 20 kt out of the north and we have been sailing at 6.2kt for several hours. This is quite fast for our boat, but well within the limits. Soon we will cross a cold front, which will swing the winds west, then eventually south. We will probably have to motorsail for a few hours tonight to stay on course - We could alter course and save a couple gallons of fuel, but I am not a purist. I am anxious to get into Brisbane, park the boat and see the family. I have enjoyed the sailing, but am ready to be on land a while. I will have one more leg on Jason's boat, but the pressures of being the captain will be his.
10/14/2010
The JennyP s on her way to Brisbane, although with a crew change. Christine did not like the look of the weather report and found me an alternate crew member for the trip. Jason has his own boat and family in Noumea, and was looking for crew for his passage. Christine proposed that he help sail the JennyP to Brisbane, then I fly back to Noumea to help him sail his boat over. Christine and the kids will fly to Brisbane to meet me. I will have a short rest between legs.
I had already cleared out, but Immigration was very easy going and it took less than an hour to change the crew list, cancel the family's departure, and get a revised authorization to leave from the Port Captain.
The trip has started out well, with smooth seas and light winds. We have alternated between sailing and motorsailing. A pin did fall out of the autopilot, but nothing a little electrical tape couldn't fix. Saturday we may get some weather, but nothing serious, just a moderate cold front to cross with 20-30 kt winds, but with wave heights forecasted at less than 3 meters. Mid-week we should be in Australia.
10/08/2010, Vanuatu
We're back in Noumea after an all too brief sojourn in Vanuatu (Van-WAH-tu), a group of islands a little Northeast of New Caledonia. We didn't have time to sail there and sail to New Cal (as Finn calls it) and make it to Brisbane in time, so we took the short cut by plane. On the flight we had a reminder that we were entering a malaria zone as the stewardess walked up and down the aisle, spraying us for mosquitos. We had hesitated to go to Vanuatu as it is a malaria zone, but we have heard it is more an issue in the rainy season and does not seem to be a current outbreak.
We arrived in Port Vila late on Sunday night, checked in to the Vanuatu Holiday Hotel within walking distance of the downtown. The room was very Spartan, yet clean, with functioning toilet and showers. The kids thought they were in the lap of luxury - despite the 5 dead cockroaches on the floor and under the beds. We congratulated ourselves on our fine selection of hotel since the roaches were dead and not scurrying around the place without care.
We spent a couple days exploring the city, shopping at the farmer's market, playing in the park on the swings, investigating our options for Day 2. We settled on an all day van trip around the island of Efate (Eh-FAR-tey), some traditional dancing, fire walking, sand drawing and snorkeling at a couple beach spots. For lunch we stopped at a restaurant along a rural beach road, a small band (including baby goat) serenaded us while we ate.
On the third day we got up at 4:30am and headed to the airport to fly to tiny Tanna island, home of Mt Yasur (Yah-ZUR), the "world's most accessible volcano." Lucky for us this volcano is on Tanna where the safety rules are a bit more lax. Back in the US, officials would probably stop us miles before the actual volcano and force us view the activity from far away. That was our experience in Volcanoes National Park in Hawaii anyway. On Tanna, we stayed at the Tanna Evergreen Resort. We had the family unit, a small plywood house complete with raised concrete flooring, a stinky fridge stocked with frozen meat, a piano and piles of church literature stored in the rafters. It was actually a lovely place and the kids wanted to stay indefinitely.
At 3pm on Wednesday afternoon, our local guide Jack, picked us up in his 4WD truck and we headed out to the volcano. We had been warned that the road was bumpy - teeth rattling was how I'd describe it. After 2 hours of driving partially on paved roadway, and mostly through dirt track in the bush, we arrived at the base of Mt Yasur. The sun was just setting as we hiked up to the rim of the crater. It was moonlike, with gray stand and black lava rock scattered about. Before we saw the eruptions, we heard them. Loud booms, bangs and spurts would come out of nowhere and then we'd look up to see smoke billowing from the mouth of the crater. Once the sun set and darkness fell, we could see that the billowing smoke actually contained bits of molten lava as well. We had quite a light show that night as we sat on a log by the edge of the crater. Jack offered to take us higher up the ridge so we could see down into the crater's mouth - not such a good idea with the kids - but Eric took the challenge and off they went into the darkness, hiking up a somewhat marked trail. Jack and Eric were on the ridge when the largest of eruptions happened, sending a hunk of burning lava up and over their heads!
Not much can top that kind of experience, except a visit to a Kastom (custom, traditional) village on Tanna where the people work very hard to live according to their ancient traditions rather than getting caught up in the modern ideas of schooling, western medicine, jobs for money, etc. For a small fee and with another local guide, we were invited to see how they live. The women showed us how they cook Laplap, a staple in their diet. Laplap is made by grinding banana and tapioca into a mush, then spreading that on leaves, which is then wrapped in a banana leaf and grilled on an open fire. The result is quite good though it may have given me and Eric both a bit of a stomach bug. The men showed us how they start fire by rubbing two pieces of wood together and how they roll their own tobacco. Finn and Sophie joined the kids and climbed up an ancient banyan tree. Sophie came down once the ladder ended, Finn followed the lead of the boys and crawled off the ladder and up the banyan roots for the last 10-20 feet and made it all the way up to the tree house (see the pictures!) This made a big impression on the kids. The visit ended in song and dance. Even the littlest of the boys was in the middle of the dance circle doing his best to keep up. It made me consider how song and dance are such an important part of everyday celebrating in these islands. Back home in the US, we often focus on perfection and precision in order to prepare ourselves to dance or sing for others, leaving the less talented out of the mix altogether. What a shame.
As always, the visit included a chance to look over their traditional handicrafts for purchase. One of the items was a bow and arrow set that a boy Finn's age had made. He showed Finn how to shoot the arrow and that was that - we now have a bow and arrow to stow somewhere on the boat!
The only real drawback with Vanuatu was the potential for malaria, so we bought medicine at the clinic in Port Vila and we have treatment on board should something arise. We did take precautions with bug repellant, long sleeves and pants, and mosquito coils at night so I think we are relatively in the clear, but just in case, we are prepared should something arise.
After surviving accommodations, bumpy rides to volcanoes, watching our child climb 40 ft up into a banyan tree, lathering up with mosquito repellant every day, we thought we were home free the morning we went to the airport to check in for our return flight to Noumea. Not so fast!
The gate agent would not issue our boarding cards because we had no tickets beyond Noumea. He wanted us to prove that we had a way out of the country once we were allowed back in. We didn't think to bring our boat registration or other immigration papers with us. We just assumed that if we originated in New Caledonia and bought a round trip ticket we'd have no problem flying back. In retrospect, we should have worried a little more about this because Eric and I both had to carry a letter from our ship's captain last year when we flew into one place to meet the boat and then flew out of another country once we'd made the passage. This agent was determined not to let us into New Caledonia until we could prove that we would be leaving. Eventually, he referred us to his supervisor and the race with the clock was on - just 1 ½ hours to prove that we could leave Noumea. We thought about calling the Noumea harbor master who could verify that our boat was in their harbor - but they didn't open until 8am and our flight was leaving at 6:30am. Then we thought we could show him our crew list, but we had forgotten our power cord for the laptop we brought and by the time Eric booted it up it was out of battery. We asked if showing him our blog site would work - sure, he said, but he didn't have internet at his terminal so we'd have to go to the café, buy an internet card and log on to one of two (very ancient) machines at a kiosk. We bought the card, tried to log on, but we couldn't get a connection. At that point we were getting desperate, so I asked the supervisor if anyone at all in the airport would possibly have an internet connection. He felt my pain so he took me back into their offices, behind the security door and the luggage checking, and logged on to an office computer. Almost there....but not quite, turns out the internet connection for the entire airport was down. We were almost at the point where we'd have to put up thousands of dollars to buy refundable tickets from Noumea to Seattle, until Eric unearthed one of our boat cards we had made to give people we meet our contact info and blogsite address. The supervisor made a Xerox of the front and back of the card for his files. This little card showing our boat name and the names of each of us seemed to do the trick and suddenly we were back at the gate receiving our boarding passes. Yikes! So, let this be a warning to any cruisers who plan to fly mid-journey....keep your boat registration papers, crew list and first born child with you at all times.
We hear from our weather router that Thursday Oct 14th may be our day to head out. Crossing our fingers and looking forward to reaching Brisbane at last.
10/01/2010, Noumea, New Caledonia
Bon jour mes amis! Nous sommes arrive en Nouvelle Caledonie. I think that's how one says it. Anyway, we are thoroughly enchanted with this country. From the minute we pulled into the visitor's dock at Port Moselle, we were warmly received. Of course, this is almost France, and as Steve Martin astutely recognized 30 years ago...they have a different word for everything. Despite the language barrier, everyone we've met has been very kind and helpful. Most people speak a little English, and contrary to France, most people will suffer our very broken French and answer us in French until it is clear that we haven't understood a word and then they'll answer again in English. Not so the real France.
Even the officials here are easy going. For example, we weren't quite in time to clear in with customs before they closed their offices for the night, but the marina gave us the bathroom/shower key and said we could get off the boat and use the facilities. This would have been unheard of in Samoa, Tonga and Fiji where you couldn't set foot on the dock until all the officials had stamped their paperwork on your kitchen table. The next morning, Eric was allowed to leave the boat and bring his paperwork up to the harbormaster's office. The harbor staff relayed the papers to Customs on our behalf and said if we didn't hear back in a short while we should just consider ourselves checked in. Wow.
Yesterday we had lunch at a little café. Eric and I didn't see beer listed on the menu, but we asked if they had "Number 1," the local beer and the waitress said, "Sure." The beer came in paper cups and showed up on our tab as 7-up. I guess that is how the proprietor gets around needing a liquor license. No fuss, no lengthy explanations; he just figured out a work-around. Curiously, the only people who have seemed somewhat clueless work in the Tourist Information Office. Once we asked about the hours for the municipal pool, and we were told "in the morning until the afternoon."
When I asked again for more specific hours, the man answered cheerfully, "Early in the morning until late in the afternoon." We've been to the pool twice already and we just make sure that we show up a while after sunrise and leave before we get hungry for dinner and it's all worked out just fine. For my Seattle friends - we could only be so lucky as to have another outdoor pool like this one at home: 50 meters, separate pool for small kids, arena seating for swim meets, accessible to all, inexpensive entry fee, right on the bus line. But I digress....
Amongst the cruising community, New Caledonia is reputed to be the expensive place to stay, second only to Tahiti. What we've found is that the prices do approach prices back home ($7-10 a person for a midrange café lunch), but this place has an infrastructure and that costs money to maintain. Need to use a restroom? They have one nearby. It has toilet paper, the flusher works and the room is clean. Need to buy a marine part? They have a store. Want to fly to Vanuatu? They have a travel agency. In fact, on Wednesday we took the kids to see "Le Dernier Maitre de l'Air" (Avatar, the Last Airbender) at the cinema. We've officially re-entered the consumer-based, global economy.
Tomorrow we'll visit the New Caledonia Museum where we are to see Melanesian artifacts and learn about the Kanak people who are indigenous to these islands. I would say this is the only sad part of the visit, that so much of the original Melanesian lifestyle and the people themselves have been over- shadowed by French culture.
After the prudishness of Samoa, Tonga and Fiji, it is refreshing to walk down the dock and see boat captains tending their boats in nothing more than a pair of (threadbare) underwear. Ladies here wear high heels and fashion belts, and they smoke cigarettes. Public-display-of-affection is clearly no longer taboo, at least in the city center. And ironically, Eric was unable to swim in the Municipal Pool in his modest swim trunks. Instead, they require "le speedo." As befits the hospitality of this place, the lifeguard first offered to loan Eric one of his "le speedos" and when Eric politely declined the offer, the life guard said he could go ahead and swim anyway, but to please come back next time with "le speedo."
We head to Vanuatu on Sunday, taking an airborne vessel instead of our usual water craft. We all look forward to making such a fast passage to another country and to sleeping a couple of nights in a hotel. We will spend 3 days on the island of Efate in their capital city, Port Vila. Then we'll fly to an outer island called Tanna, home to Mt. Yasur a highly active volcano. We've hired a guide to take us up the mountain at night to view the eruption up close. We'll be back in Noumea on Friday Oct 8th ready to begin final preparations for our last passage of the journey.
I've seen a couple signs recently that caught my eye:
1) In Fiji on the Lautoka wharf "Your safety is your responsibility" (whom does that leave to sue?)
2) Near the handicapped parking spaces in Noumea " If you take my parking space, please take my handicap as well" ( a little in your face, but perhaps effective)
3) On the women's bathroom/shower area door here at the Port Moselle habor "This room is strictly for use by women only. Those couples wishing to shower together, please use the Men's."
4) On a Chinese restaurant here in Noumea "Restauration Chinoise" (not quite French, but not quite English either)
09/28/2010
Havannah was smooth and absolutely beautiful. Our only adverse condition was a slight bit of fog which limited our ability to see the different colors of water (very helpful when traversing reefs because the different colors indicate depths, brown being a very bad color to see in front of the boat.) I am sure the pass can be incredible under the right conditions; at one point we actually saw 8.9 kts of GPS speed when we were only going 5.0 kts through the water. That was at the end of the flood when the current is lightest.
We wound our way 40 miles through islets and reefs before finally turning around the last point and into Port Moselle, Noumea. Sophie popped her head out from under the dodger and exclaimed, "Finally, some sky scrapers again!" We look forward to exploring this "Paris of the Pacific."
09/28/2010
New Caledonia is within our sights! It is 6:30am and we have less than two hours before we reach the Canal du Havannah or Havannah Passage, a thorny route for those heading to Noumea from the NE, yet nevertheless it is the main ship channel and the most efficient way through New Caledonia's main barrier reef.
Our passage so far has been extraordinary as in atypical. We've seen it all, from the first day out of Fiji sailing in winds that rated 7 on the Beaufort Scale, to the wing-on-wing business I described a few days ago, to motoring for the last 36 hours and the dead calm we have now. As I write, the wind is less than 4 kts, the sea is so calm there is barely a swell and the clouds are reflected in the water. Haven't seen that before and it couldn't come at a better time as we begin our transit through Havannah Passage. If we were traditionalists we would be bobbing up and down within sight of shore but going nowhere until the wind changed. Lucky for us we are "limited exposurists" in that we focus on making the voyage in the most efficient manner, limiting our exposure to weather and other conditions, reaching our destination without delay if possible.
As we learned in our research for this landfall, the Havannah Passage can produce "violent eddies" during the tidal change. According to Jimmy Cornell (a voyager's guru), it should be negotiated on a flood tide. According to the official cruising guide to New Caledonia, it should only be attempted at slack water (between the tides). Wasn't that when there were supposed to be "violent eddies?" It has also been called a ship's graveyard. When the wind is blowing counter to ebb, overfalls (breaking waves) are present and currents can reach up to 4 kts (our boat only does 5.5kts under power.) What excitement awaits us at the end of our 6 day passage! Eric tells me not to worry because the Sailing Directions are probably written, or at least edited by, lawyers. They have to cover all the scenarios for the shipping companies.
After 700 miles at sea through all kinds of conditions, we've managed landfall for 8:30am at the tail end of the flood. Thanks to Eric's excel spreadsheet that gives him various arrival times for our possible travel speeds; he can really dial it in. (If he could only control the weather...) The sea is as flat as I've ever seen it and the wind is almost nothing. I am hopeful our transit through the actual reef passage and the subsequent winding through reefs and islets on the last 40 miles into Noumea are equally as uneventful.
