Some of you may recall that we called our first crossing of the Tasman Sea "The Ride of the Valkyries", as we tried to outrun a sub-tropical depression and get ahead of a major low coming in from Australia on our passage from Tonga to New Zealand in 2014. At that time, I said that it was an experience I didn't want to repeat any time soon. It had been one wild ride with winds at one point up to 45kt winds and 5m seas.

We had expected to be well on our way to the Islands by early May. The traditional departure window for cruisers is the six-week period from mid-April to end of May; although many New Zealanders told us June was better. By April-May, most cruisers are getting near the end of their visas, the weather is turning cold and wet in NZ and everyone gets keen to head to the islands. But there we sat in Whangarei, as the end of May approached - our parts had finally arrived, but still no weather window in sight as the lows kept marching through, and our visa was about to expire.

Weather in New Zealand is characterized by a relentless progression of alternating high and low pressure systems. In the Southern Hemisphere the Lows spin clockwise and the Highs counter-clockwise; opposite to the Northern Hemisphere. The worst effects of these systems are felt up to about 30S latitude or about 350 miles north of Whangarei. The idea is to pick a time just after a low pressure system passes over and use the favourable southerly winds to get as far North as possible before the next high comes through. Often there is a 'squash zone' of stronger winds and waves between these systems. Again the worst of the effect is felt up to about 30S, although it can extend several hundred miles further north in some cases. We were trapped in New Zealand by a very large high pressure system that lingered in the area for 2 weeks with huge winds and waves over the cruising route to the tropics.

We listened eagerly each morning to the Gulf Harbour Radio Net and checked the Gribs several times a day. David and Patricia of GHR provide a great service to the cruising community; they track boats on passage and David provides an excellent analysis of the weather over the cruising routes and in the islands throughout the cruising season. (Note: we encourage cruisers to send GHR a donation for their work, all done free of charge). We also hired Bob McDavitt, the local weather guru, to do our weather routing. Finally, there appeared to be a window of opportunity to leave around May 29th to June 3rd; predictions for the best day to leave kept changing and the GRIBS changed ever time we looked at them. Dave from GHR thought Monday, May 29th might be best, but McDavitt thought Thursday, June 2nd or even Saturday gave the best conditions, so we prepared to leave for Marsden Cove on Tuesday, May 30th. As happens all too often, the forecasts were off on the timing, and in the end the best departure date became May 29th with conditions deteriorating thereafter. We were not in position, so we were unable to clear customs and leave then. We moved up to Marsden on Tuesday and realized that if we didn't leave asap we would be stuck for another week to 10 days by a very intense high which was then in the Tasman. The forecast showed that if we left on Wednesday, we should have winds of SE20-25kt for about a week before the went easterly. We would however go through a squash zone with winds of 25-30 gusting 35kt on our second day out. Not comfortable but short lived and doable. So, we left.

Unfortunately, the forecast turned out to be pretty optimistic. The squash zone saw us running NW before 40-48kt winds and 4-5 meter breaking seas. After 18 months of not sailing, this was a bit hard to get used to, and both of us felt a bit seasick. Roundabout performed beautifully however, while the crew slowly got up to speed. The bulk of the trip thereafter had winds of 28-34kt from the ESE to SE and 2-3 meter seas. The winds were not difficult to cope with and we ran under our faithful storm staysail with a very reefed main and occasionally some Genoa. However, we were hit regularly by breaking 3m+ waves from the E that hit us on the beam with such G-force that it felt and sounded like we had been run into by a car. They hit with such power that water squirted through locked hatches and ports and through every opening in the Bimini, soon soaking everything inside and out. The top rail was buried many times and green water rushed up the deck often. Worse still, every now and again, by some unknown pathway, water poured into the interior by the bucketful through the closed companionway. Definitely not fun! Three days out we looked at each other and said "this is absolutely the last time we will cross the Tasman Sea!" During the first three days, it was too rough to even consider making a meal and we lived on Granola bars, chocolate bars, mixed nuts, Cup of Soup and the occasional ham sandwich. Thank heavens for good snack planning. The voyage meals I had prepared before leaving, stayed firmly in the fridge. On Day 4, the wind eased briefly to the 25kt range and the waves to around 2m, so I got out my pressure cooker and made chicken stew with the deboned BBQ chicken I had bought before leaving - boy did it taste good! The respite did not last long and we were soon back into 30+ kt winds and big disorganized seas. Ted got very tired the first couple of days, staying on watch to give me time to sleep and try to get my sea legs; so by the third day when I was finally feeling better, I let him sleep and did several 8-10 hour watches.

The seas had been too rough to put the DuoGen (our water generator) into the water for much of the voyage; and the skies were too overcast and the solar panels facing away from the sun for us to get much benefit from them either. Consequently, we had to run the engine for several hours each day to generate electricity - something we have rarely had to do. When Ted finally put the DuoGen in the water, it wasn't generating anything, although the propellor was spinning. When he lifted it up, he noticed that the pin joining the prop to the shaft was missing - lost in the storm? He bravely donned climbing harness and climbed up on the back rail to replace the pin with a bolt, but when he put it back in the water, it sounded like the shaft was out of alignment, although it was probably more likely that the seas were still too rough. So nothing to be done, but to keep on running the engine each day. We carry four jerry cans in the aft lazarette locker, but for this trip Ted bought 4 additional jerry cans and mounted them on the rail before leaving Whangarei. He has resisted doing this for years, as he likes the decks to be as uncluttered as possible; but this time we were glad he did.

Day 6, still in 25-30 kt and 2-3m seas, but the weather is finally getting warmer. I was looking forward to the time "when the butter starts to melt" in the words of my friend Catherine on The Southern Cross. This morning, however, as the sun rose it got hotter and hotter inside the Bimini, but the seas were still too rough to open up the sides very much. I had not wanted to disturb Ted's sleep, so had slowly removed layers until I was wearing only my bib foul weather overalls. Ted popped up from below and said we were going to transfer fuel from the jerry cans to the tank. After some daredevil moves to get the tanks from the locker and off the rail, we were set to go. I suddenly realized we were both sitting in our expensive foul weather gear about to transfer fuel in rough seas. I didn't want my foulies to smell like diesel for ever after, so insisted we remove all our clothes...so there I sat wearing nothing but black panties, red life vest and bright blue deck shoes amidst yellow jugs; Ted was equally colourfully attired - quite the picture, but mercifully no photographs! Ted has been doing engine oil changes in the nude since an unfortunate accident with his new power drill pump which covered the aft head in oil, but this was a new experience. What can I say...I guess we are just that kind of boat! It was nice to have a little light humour in the midst of what had been a very uncomfortable trip so far.

We had been blown about 60 miles west of our course in the gale; so for the rest of the voyage,we were sailing with the wind and waves on or forward of the beam which accounted in part for our discomfort. It took 3 days to tack back NE to our destination in Fiji. Ted actually wondered if we were going to miss Fiji altogether if the predicted wind shift to the NW didn't happen. Finally, about 100 miles south of Western Fiji the winds went N and we were able to tack back NE towards Kadavu Passage. Once into the Kadavu Passage, the winds died and we motored for 18 hours on flat seas to get up to Savusavu.

As I sat at the "Q" Dock waiting for the various officials to come aboard to clear us, I looked at the beautiful green hills surrounding us, the Palm trees, the blue water and the brightly coloured Sargeant Majors swimming below us and remembered why we go through these hardships and realized that it is all worth it.