David Kroenke
11/26/2009, Nuku'alofa Tonga to Opua New Zealand

Tonga to New Zealand is 1100 miles, as the crow flies. Sailboats, however, are not crows and we sailed, well, who knows? Maybe 1300-1400? [Side note to non-sailors. Sailboat performance, and life aboard the boat, depends very much on the direction of the wind. Think of a clock with the 12 at the bow. The fastest point of sailing occurs when the wind comes from either 9 o'clock or 3. That's called wind on the beam. Exhilarating, in a Mr. Toad's Wild Ride sort of way. And you make tracks miles and miles of them. When the wind is behind (from 9 to 6 to 3 o'clock) speed is less hence the need for those huge, brightly-colored sails known as spinnakers. Wind from behind is the most pleasant on the boat sort of a rocking motion with whishing sound as the swells pass under the boat. Mesmerizing. Alas, on this trip, we never had wind from behind. Last choice, all things considered, is wind from the front. Known as beating into the wind; the term beating is apt. Traveling at 5 knots, with a wind of 15 knots, the apparent wind is 20 knots. (With wind behind it would be 10.) Forces on the boat increase with the cube of apparent wind speed, which just means the boat and its occupants take a good deal more beating than you'd think with just a small incremental increase in wind speed. And you're plowing head-on into the waves. Crash, the boat stops, rolls, winds hits the sails, you pick up speed, moving along until, crash again, when you plow into another wave.] We leave Tonga at 3 in the afternoon on Monday. By 5 we've got the sails up and, Yipee!, the wind is on the beam. Brad nails the sail trim and we fly!!! Two full days of 7-8 knots of boat speed. We hit 9 a couple of times. Wow - we're getting close to 200 miles a day!!! Until the wind died on day 3. Rolling in the swells, we turn on the engine and drive. Brad and I are prone to seasickness, Linda not at all at least not until she made mac and cheese with strong-smelling cheese days later on. But, by the third day Brad and I are less like zombies and even capable of conversation. Life aboard a boat takes on a momentum of its own. From 9 in the AM to say, 5, we have social time, with short naps now and then. Then dinner and the night watches start. Mine are from 10 to midnight and from 4 to 6. (I asked for this schedule because few things are more pleasant to me than dawn on a sailboat in the open sea.) I knap after dinner, Brad wakes me up at 10. I bobble around trying to stay awake until midnight, when I wake Linda. At 4, Brad wakes me again and I watch the dawn in the east. Back for a nap and then we share coffee or hot chocolate in the cockpit around 9. We talk about art and architecture and garden design. And books and movies and American culture and, well, all those conversations one has in college augmented always with what is the wind going to do next? (One day, Linda tells Brad and me to shut about the weather Long time since anyone told me to shut up, but hey, she's the captain. Brad and I sulk to the cockpit and whisper about tomorrow's weather, sotte voce.) What is art? We disappear down that conversational rat-hole for a whole day. Later on, Linda asks me, more or less, to tell her how a computer works. I enjoyed it, but Linda was reminding herself to be careful what you ask for. Have her tell you someday how early computers subtracted by adding. It can be done. Oddly, she wasn't very interested in how operating systems boot themselves. How do you read yourself into memory if you're the program that does the reading? Truly, it's fascinating and will only take one more hour for me to explain. Well, maybe two. We went back to design and whether people like her and my wife, Lynda, an artist, are in touch with deep principles of art that people like Brad and me don't have. Why my Lynda is so impatient with my artistic selections. As in, "Are you kidding? You like that? What are you thinking? Can you see?" I suspect they are in touch with principles that help them see patterns that the rest of us miss. OK, back to the sail. No wind for two days and then IT started. Wind from the front of the boat. For the next 6 days we beat, hard, into the wind. Bang, bang, bang. It sounds like we just hit a rock in the road. Bang, bang. Wooptidoo bang, bang, bang. Then, agonizingly, 200 miles from Opua, our NZ port, the wind came straight from Opua. Right on our nose. That means tedious sailing back and forth, inching our way to Opua, occasionally re-crossing our own path. Yuck. Big blow one night and day. Gusts of 35-40 knots, not fun. Bang, bang, bang on the hull. We're getting exhausted. I go to bed and sleep hard for 4 hours. Later, Brad and I watch the sun come up over tight 10 foot swells. It's cold. Around 9 we decide to reef down to the storm jib, and an exhausted Brad works up on the foredeck in the bouncing way up and way down in the waves, raising the small sail. Double reefed main. The boat settles down and we meander along at 3 knots, boat perfectly at ease with wind screaming in the rigging. Alas, even ugly storms come to an end at sea. There's a short break in the wind, we turn on the engine and boogie, fast, straight to our destination. Running the engine hard. And, 24 hours ago we arrived. Tied up at the dock at Opua. I write this in a small marina café, a café that is weaving and bobbing up and down. How can this table rock so when it's sitting on the hard ground? (The effect will go away in a day or two.) That's it. Except, I neglected to say that Linda can cook! Never have I had such great food on a passage. Baked cranberry and other breads for snacks, delicious soups and Indonisian dishes. Spicey burritos, homemade foccacia bread. And Brad contributed his specialty -- homemade ice cream. Today, we're off to visit a couple of nearby small towns. Then tomorrow I work my way to Auckland. I have a meeting there on Tuesday and then fly back to Seattle. Au bientot Kattywampus! Thanks for the safe passage!

Comments [4]

Linda
11/25/2009, Opua, New Zealand 35*18.853S 174*07.294E

We arrived around noon today. Customs and the Agriculture Department came to the boat shortly after. We're all cleared in. Agriculture took quite a bit of our food we hadn't managed to consume prior to their arrival. Honey, all fresh fruit and vegetables. Frozen meat, popcorn, hard boiled eggs (I'd boiled them thinking we'd be able to keep them since they were cooked), uncooked beans, lentils. And the vacuum bag!!

Thanksgiving dinner festivities start at the Opua Cruising Club in about and hour. I don't think we'll be out late as we're all exhausted from the passage.

Brad and I made our landfall here, on board 'Mahina Tiare' 5 years ago on November 24th, That trip planted the seed of our adventure. As we sighted land this morning, I was one again thoughtful of how lucky we are and how much I love it here in New Zealand.

Enjoy the day tomorrow (we're a day ahead).

Linda, Brad and David

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Linda
11/22/2009, 30*53.102'S 177*05.619E

We're less than 300 miles from Opua, NZ. I can already smell that Thanksgiving Turkey cooking! We're hoping that the Opua Cruising Club will be having their traditional Thanksgiving potluck dinner. A great time to catch up with friends we haven't seen in a while as well as meeting more kindred spirits from out on the water.

We have arranged for a swing moorage at the marina there (1 month). That will give us some time to assess how we want to spend the next six months. Our original plan was to keep the boat in one place and sightsee by buying an inexpensive used car. Now we're thinking that moving from place to place on Kattywompus and renting a car on occasion might be more fun. We'll keep you posted.

The wind on the passage has been fickle. The first two days out, we were flying along at between 8 and 9 knots, then barely any wind (the ocean looked like a glassy pond), then light on our nose, interspersed with hours of motoring. Having our friend David on board is such a treat. Lot's to catch up on, things to chat about (we've solved many of the world's problems) and lots of culinary adventures, both imagined and in the galley!

I realized a few days ago that I never posted the answer to trivia question #3. Which of the Polynesian cultures did not partake in cannibalism? The answer is Hawaii, Tahiti and Tonga.

So, Trivia #4... The nucleus implanted into an oyster to create a black cultured pearl is made from, A. A small plastic pellet. B. The shell of Mussels taken from the Mississippi River. C. Pacific coral granuals. D. Indian Ocean coral polyops.

David has agreed to write the Tonga posting. I guarantee you won't want to miss reading it.

Comments [1]

Jane
11/16/2009

After flights to Australia, New Zealand & Tonga, David met up with Linda & Brad last week. He called his wife today (Monday in Seattle) to let her know they were ready to take off and they hope to be in New Zealand in 12 days.
We wish them a speedy, smooth & safe passage.
Bon voyage!

Comments [1]

David Kroenke
11/14/2009, Nuku'alofa Tonga

Air New Zealand Flight 474 approaches Tonga from the south, flying over bluffs interrupting the roll of the South Pacific. Waves smash on rocks to object as we turn east to approach the runway on Tongtapu, the largest of the Kingdom of Tonga's 60+ islands. We pass over palm trees, water towers, small farms and land. They open the doors, and warm, balmy, tropical air flows into the plane. Dogs greet us as we de-plane and one takes a passing interest in the pocket in which I keep dog treats when at home. She doesn't sit down, thankfully, or I suppose I'd be writing this in the Tongan jail. Drugs? Explosives? Tonga is a conservative, very religious island and I'd guess drugs. "No, I don't have a return ticket; I'm leaving on a sailboat." "No, I don't have a letter from the captain. (Why didn't I cobble one together on the airplane?)" "How much?" "I don't have $34.50 Tongan." Ultimately all is resolved as I trade my $30NZ, for, would you believe it, exactly $34.50. The perfect exchange rate. I gather my bags and head out the door, looking for Linda and Brad. Clearly I'm wearing a big red T, for Tourist, on my shirt because every young man in site offers me a taxi ride, or a hotel room, or something. It's hard to tell in the din of the hundreds of people who have turned out to greet the 50 or so Tongan passengers. A family-oriented culture. "The sun went down like thunder." Thackeray? Kipling? I don't recall. But no lingering sunset this close to the equator. The sun goes down and it's dark. Where are they? Do I have the right day? I've got $17 USD. What's a good plan if I can't find them???? Aha! I spy an energetic, bright-faced, platinum blonde-haired woman (rare in that crowd) shouting my name! A big hug and off we go to find Brad and the rental car they've taken for a tour of the island tomorrow. That's car taken in the broad sense of the word. I see Brad driving on the wrong side of the road, sitting on the wrong side of the car, hiding behind a window-spanning star-burst of cracks in the windshield. A car that gives no lie to the term rent-a-wreck. But what fun we had! Sunday in Tonga The next morning, Andre, Claire, and their grown son Snorri greet us at the 'car.' Hard not to be drawn to this French family that's been cruising the world since the mid 1960s. It turns out that Andre and Claire are on one boat and Snorri is sailing alone on another. I never learned if they planned to meet in Tonga or if it just happened. Andre's other two children are taking a boat from Madagascar to Cape Town. The cruising family! Andre's eyes sparkle as we shake hands. Clair exudes cheer and warmth gained from cruising 45 years in the sun. Sun that hasn't been kind to her complexion but seems to have been good for her soul. They both speak English with a charming French accent, Andre a bit more fluently than Claire. Snorri speaks little English, but he speaks more English than I speak French so we point and bob and weave in English. Maybe 30? Andre has marked a map with sites for us to visit on our 50 mile-ish tour of the island's perimeter. Off-we go! Brad seems to have mastered the ability to drive on the left side of the road. Well, except when Linda says, "Brad, pull over I want to take a picture." At that point (does the spousal directive bring him back to his US roots?), he forgets all, pulls over on the wrong side of the road and stops on the right. Many helpful reminders from the rest of us. Too much to recount. Rock monument from the 1400s that indicates, Stonehenge-style, the summer solstice. Andre points out an ipe tree (ironwood, he calls it), Snorri climbs a tree for 4 green mangos. Claire hands me one, showing that it's bleeding white milk and demonstrating to hold it upside down, away from my shorts. The biggest spider I have ever seen! I mean the size of a small rat, black with yellow and orange. Pigs on the beach. One big gal out to her ham hocks in the water rooting for something. Piles of mud around her. And dogs, dogs, dogs. All we met were friendly, the result of unbridled back-lane passion. Breeds like the beagle-bulldog-collie combo. Strangest looking dogs I've ever seen, but, hey, I have a three-legged Labradoodle; who am I to fuss? Down the road, and crawling in a cave on the beach, I keep thinking of the spider. "Hey," Linda yelps as small bat flies into her. "Knock it off," as another one hits her in the shoulder. "I thought bats had radar!" Sunday on Tonga means church. We must have passed 20 churches with congregants streaming in and out. The ladies wearing gorgeous, bright- tropical colored dresses. Men in tailored-fitting, recently-pressed black suits, wearing a straw mat skirt around their waists. Walking with perfect posture and quiet dignity and grace. And the singing! When we stopped the car, we'd hear the voices of one (sometimes two) church choirs. Mixed male and female voices in gorgeous harmony, perfectly in key, all a capella. Easy to lie under a palm tree and listen all day long. Not us. We're off to a family resort, on the beach. Meeting room in a cave open at the top. Benches sitting on the sandy floor, palm trees growing through the opening. Well-groomed sandy beach in front apparently there's a hotel as well. We picnic in a grassy park. Nearby, a small group of Tongans does the same. Their children off to the side, circled in a group, singing (in harmony) and laughing. Progress has not yet brought them the 10 year old's isolation of video-games and Internet surfing. So much more. Blowholes where the swells meet beach cliffs, water surges underneath, and explodes in geysers 20, 30 feet into the air. The northeast corner of the island, where Tasman landed in 1640. He called it Amsterdam because of the plentitude of hogs, fruit, and vegetables. And, finally, more bats. But this time, fruit bats. Hundreds of them hanging in trees. Linda's favorite part of the day, which seems odd given her bat experience in the cave. But she's mesmerized at these black purses hanging upside down in the trees. Andre stands underneath the trees and returns to exclaim "They shat on me." I told him it was good luck. "Then you stand over there." Later we learn the bats are the King's personal property. Back to the boat, with a stop for beer at the warfside restaurant.

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Linda
11/12/2009, Tongatapu Tonga 21*07.581' S 175*09.696' W

It's 7: 40 pm and we're finally anchored. Our arrival was later than planned, as we found some of the navigational markers shown on our chart to be difficult, if not impossible to locate. There are very large areas of submerged coral, so when you find yourself off course things become a bit tense! As we approached the anchorage, we spotted the waving arms of our friends Andre and Claire on board Naouli. We met them several months ago on Ua Pou. So good to see them again!

We're anchored between two boats with Seattle as their hailing port. Will try and meet them tomorrow after we get a good nights rest. The passage from Niue was uneventful. We motored a good deal of the way as there was hardly any wind. The Grib files kept showing nice wind on our beam, don't know where they we're getting their information!

Tomorrow we'll dinghy across to Nuku'alofa and get our clearances taken care of. Our friend David arrives from Seattle on Saturday evening . Looking forward to having him on board.

Good Night.

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