Forget all that about our new-found sense of clarity and purpose....

My watch starts at 0400. We are motorsailing in light winds rather than slop and flop about all night, engineless. Before he heads to bed Jim reminds me to check the engine gauges regularly.

Cloudy night watches can be dark and disinteresting. Ho-hum! At 0415 I force myself to check the gauges, everything is rumbling along just fine. I sit back down in the cockpit. The wheel under autopilot control is turning by itself, making small adjustments in the desired course. Suddenly someone shifts the throttle down - with no one at the helm it’s like a ghost has done it! Mystified, I go look, notice the oil pressure is half of what it was, so throttle down from 1800 to 1000. Then I go wake Jim. Poor man, he’s barely been asleep 20 minutes but he gets on the case right away. We throttle back to 0. Engine off. There’s no “click, click, click” of the propeller turning in reverse. Jim powers up and tries both forward and reverse with no change in speed. Sonsie is drifting along at 2 knots.

Investigation reveals that our little walnut shell of a boat has encountered a problem: the sudden shearing of all four propeller shaft bolts. This is major. Brilliant Jim finds some bolts on hand that he can bung on, but only after twisting both arms, shoulders, and his head into a tiny breadbox of a space, the aft part of engine cubby. His arms get sore and cramped and his hands (and nose!) black and greasy. I pass him a. succession of nuts, bolts, washers and tools. He’s lying down in our quarter berth on a tarp for the better part of two hours working his mechanical magic, while Sonsie sways and bops, lurches and swoops over swells. Occasionally bits squidge out of his fingers, the air turns a bit blue, and the long-reacher with a magnet at its tip gets requested...

At last he succeeds in reattaching the shaft to flange to engine. This fix could see us for awhile but we do not want to leave such a vital part of the vessel jury-rigged for longer than necessary. Boats have sunk (quickly) when these bolts break but luckily in our case the prop flange held and the propeller did not fall out, bind the rudder, or vanish into the deep, leaving a void through which the ocean could flood in.

We debate continuing on to Nouméa, New Caledonia, but decide the wisest course of action is an about turn to Opua where we know of an engineering shop that can set things permanently to right.

Jim alerts the ever-pleasant and professional Taupo Maritime Radio to our plight and decision. They have been tracking our progress and were aware that we had planned to go to either Australia or New Caledonia. They give NZ Customs a head’s up: expect Sonsie of Victoria at Opua. Well, we will see what Customs have to say after shooing us off their doorstep in Nelson just a week ago!

So one week out and we have to turn back, return to NZ! It’s always good to know how to adjust one’s sails in life, both literally and figuratively - and at least we didn’t sink!