Zephyr's Travels

As soon as the wind engaged we flew into sight of Fatu Hiva with an incredible encounter of what we think was a juvenile hump back whale , Just off our bow his blow sending up a fountain of spray in
preparation to dive he took his last breath and down he went with his huge tail waving good bye and he was gone.
In no time at all we were busy preparing the anchor and dropping the sail for our arrival. With friendly welcomes from other yachts and congratulations on making it to this iconic anchorage our last job was
to find a space. Tricky maneuvering around a very crowded area with either very deep water needing 100 metres of chain or a rocky shallow inshore area with poor holding and gusts of wind blowing down
the mountain. Our choice was limited. After a number of attempts we nudged into a safe haven. Totally exhausted we just sat and took it all in with our jaws dropped watching wild goats climbing up and
over steep cliff faces to get the next nibble of grass and then bleating like children because they've been separated, or the grass is greener situation.
We had arrived in Hanaveve Bay or Bay of Penises as it was known in sailing ship days now re-named the Bay of Virgins by the early missionaries. The trouble is, the towering volcanic columns resembling the
said name and its difficult to think of anything else. The goats seem to climb these large columns just for fun.
The film 'The World that Time Forgot' comes to mind. Huge soaring peaks covered in lush green foliage way up high. You could almost imagine dinosaurs cruising around every corner munching on the rich
green vegetation. The village that sits at the bottom of the valley is a small community of about 300 people living in beautifully manicured plots of land with simple houses having kitchen and dining areas
outside. Fruit trees loaded down with an endless supply of pamplemouse, mangos and bananas add shade to tethered goats' dogs and pigs and plentiful food for the family and to sell to passing yachts.
One of the locals introduced himself as Poi and holds down several jobs including fisherman, tour guide, security guard and priest. He was a great contact and able to sell us fruit and fix us up with most of
our basic needs. We liked the idea of going to church as it seemed to be a very big part of the community and an opportunity for us to reflect on friends and family at home. Poi suggested getting to the quay
at 07:30 to collect some fruit and then make our way up to the church. It was a typical whitewashed building with a humble bell ringing out and everyone in their Sunday best of white dresses and flowers in
the lady's hair. It wasn't long before the singing started, and the magic began. We were both overwhelmed with the singing with all sorts of musical accompaniment and the passion shared openly with tears
flowing freely. It was quite a moment and touched both Colin and me. The day before we came across four young guys who had taken 38 days to sail from Panama to Fatu Hiva, all looking like they could do
with a large meal. They told us they had little food left and needed to see if they could get some provisions. We had some fruit we shared and other boats helped too. What I found incredible was even
though they were in quite a sorry state they found time to come to church the following morning. The six of us all shook hands and no words were needed just knowing we were all strangers that had one
thing in common having sailed from far away to here in French Polynesia and were stood in a small church listening to the most incredible singing on a remote island.
Returning to Zephyr after one of our many expeditions we were greeted by our fellow Cornishmen on Distraction who had just dropped anchor, a welcomed sight of our friends who had also covered many
miles from Galapagos to Fatu Hiva. Bottles of bubbly were consumed along with a lot of chat (mostly Mike). Mike managed to orchestrate a swim that included cleaning the bottom of his boat and in no time
at all had all six of us scrubbing and de-barnacling Distraction however it soon exhausted everyone and team Distraction slept for the rest of the day. Phew!
The waterfalls are an attraction that we read about. With various instructions on where to find them we packed sandwiches along with suitable walking shoes and met up with Distraction and friends Philip,
Sarah and crew Tom from another boat Hermoine. It should have been a straightforward mission if any of us bothered to read the directions properly. A lot of guessing and let's follow the river, along with
sending scouts Will and Tom ahead to explore possible tracks that might lead us to our destination. What should have only taken 2 hours was turning into a survival situation foraging for food and sheltering
under giant leaves from torrential downpours (and being eaten alive by mosquitoes) and still no waterfall. After exploring every avenue most of the party thought it was best to head back. Tom, Will and I
reckoned it was worth continuing having come this far. We retraced our tracks and got back to the road and went around the corner low and behold a large wooden sign and arrow saying 'waterfall'! At last,
after a lot of clambering we arrived at a very high cliff edge with a slight trickle of water making its way down to a pond of broken rotting trees and stagnant water covered in scum. It's the taking part that's
important and my memory will be getting to know two very special people Will and Tom.
Finding somewhere to obtain cash is always an issue in these remote places and the one thing we all needed was cash to buy food. We decided to all team up with Distraction and Hermione and to combine a
tour of the island with a visit to a post office to draw out some money. We didn't realise the one road that takes you over to the next village climbs up a series of hairpin bends that need carful negotiating.
Relying on Poi's driving skills we held our breath and closed our eyes a number times as he rolled backwards to do a three point turn around the bends leaving us girls Emma, Sarah and me along with Philip
who refused to look out from under his hat, suspended on the edge of the road looking down far below at a tiny dot of where we had come from. It was worth it though for the bird's eye view. A quick lunch
time stop to see how Tapas is made. This is a form of parchment made from the bark of a mulberry tree. The process of beating the bark and stretching out it then covering in tapioca to dry eventually results
in a scroll that can be painted. Their eye for design creates beautiful and memorable images of sea life and Polynesian culture. This particular island is known for the talent and skill of this tradition along with
the intricate carvings they do to make Tiki figures from ebony and rosewood.
Thanks to Fatu Hiva and its people and meeting up with our Cornish cousins on Distraction along with seeing new sailing friends to share stories with we feel fully recovered and ready to move on to our next
French Polynesian Island of Nuku Hiva about 140 miles north.
Pictures to follow when we get internet!

We had a much needed day of fun with an ever inquisitive pod of False Killer Whales. I find the name given to these incredibly social mammals quite funny because they are nothing like Killer Whales. With
its very unflattering head with little or no definition in shape (if it was a horse, it would have a roman nose) It's incredibly fast and agile in the water. This particular small whale was really showing off darting
under Zephyr producing a high-pitched squeak and riding the bow wave rolling on its side to take a good look at us as we hung over the rail looking back at him. Thinking he had had enough of us he
vanished, after a minute or two he was back with his entire family. It was as if they had come to the zoo to see us! Mother baby aunts and uncles all pausing to take in the sight of the metal beast Zephyr with
two nutters on board looking longingly at the speed and the freedom they all had. Meanwhile we are struggling to make any headway in zero wind and massive swell so just lolling on the ocean for their
entertainment.
I managed to get some fun photos of Mr 'I'm not really a killer whale' and hope to post if we ever make landfall again.
I can't say I'm a fan of this particular area of the Pacific Ocean as I have yet to have a dream sail as we did when we left Panama. We think the inconsistent unsettled period we are experiencing could be to do
with it being an El Nino year, who knows, all I know is its making for tough sailing with the daily weather forecasts either giving us false hope of champagne sailing or predicting awful weather that never
materialises.
We had a rude awakening this morning with a very strong smell of diesel. Further investigation and we found half the entire content of our fuel tank in the bilges. My heart sank! The smell was overwhelming
and the sight of nearly 90 litters of diesel slopping around was not what we needed to see. It's one of those moments when you just know you need to get your head down and salvage what we could with no
questions asked. We need every drop of fuel to get us in if we continue in the light winds we're getting, It was a delicate operation to remove the fuel without spilling any in or around our living area so
everything had to be packed away and all the floorboards lifted, The jerry cans lined up and a super fine filter on the funnel to catch any particles as we transferred the fuel. This stuff gets everywhere the
smallest of drips turn into an oil field. It took about 2 hours to remove and filter before we could even begin to see where it was coming from. Colin found a split in the engine fuel supply hose at the pre-
filter outlet connection. The split at a low point allowed the fuel tank to siphon into the bilge with the engine stopped. Because we had the engine running over night we didn't notice until the smell hit us.
This was a timely reminder to do more regular bilge level checks when the engine is running and not rely on the bilge alarms! All in all, we started sorting this at 7am and finished at 2pm. But we did manage
to salvage the fuel and return our living area to how it should be Phew!!
On a positive note, we've been feasting on a magnificent tuna for the last couple of days, our first catch since the last one shortly after leaving Panama.
Now we just need the same fighting spirit to get in to our next destination in the Marquesas Islands 160 miles to go with zero wind and none forecast for at least 5 days. This must be the slowest we have ever
gone on Zephyr.
Stop Press: The spinnaker is hoisted and the wind has returned!

The sight of our first Polynesian atoll was both daunting and beautiful. The Gambier islands opens up through a huge pass in the reef with spectacular mountains either side heavily lined with lush green
pines and Acacia trees with large low branches in a pattern of discs layer upon layer enticing you to come in to it's world of coral reefs and black pearls.
Once inside this enormous atoll we were relieved to see surprisingly well-maintained navigation marks leading us through the chaotic carpet of pearl farm floats marking the thousands of oyster beds either
side of us as far as the eye could see. Coming in at midday was a sound move giving us perfect light to spot any floats and endless ropes attached to them as it doesn't bear thinking about getting one
wrapped around the prop!
Snaking our way through the channel led us to the main town of Rikitea. We found a decent anchoring spot after couple of aborted attempts ending up too close to the reefs after been told by a kindly yacht
neighbour that the most recent weather forecast gave winds blowing from 30-40 knots straight into this spot by the end of the week.
Although we are in calm waters with no swell due to the protection of the reefs unfortunately, you're never far from a shallow reef edge. With around 10 yachts all vying for the best anchor spot and with us
been last in, it left us with little choice were to go, However, after a deep breath and not rushing we got our place lovely and close to the dinghy dock and a view of laden grapefruit trees.
That was the easy bit!!
We headed ashore and were greeted warmly with �"bonjour�" from all the locals and their dogs. The town is a single road parallel to the shoreline so simple directions took us to the Gendarmerie to clear
Zephyr in to French Polynesia which was a very relaxed process for once. Next on the list was provisions, cash and a local Sim card for the phone. The first setback was finding the only ATM machine in the
islands was out of cash and would not be topped up for a week. Then we found out all the little shops mostly only take cash and the last remaining place that might have cash was the post office and this was
SHUT. From that point we were a bit stuck: garbage disposal - need cash, diesel - need cash, laundry - need cash and to top it all, no Sim cards were available even if we did have cash.

Feeling a tad deflated, we returned back to Zephyr empty handed and with no means of communications to call Lucy or any friends and family (always a highlight after a long stint at sea).
Thank goodness the SSB radio snail-mail set up was booming in despite the mountain behind us so we were able to ping off a couple of short emails.
After a very good night's sleep things didn't seem quite so bad the following morning. Armed with our French phrase book and some US dollars to exchange we headed back in with a positive outlook and
tried again.

The supply ship was in and unloading fresh produce for the shops and fuel with everyone waiting their turn to collect their items as it was unloaded. Very similar to the Scillonian arriving in Scilly.
All in all, yesterday we were thinking Gambier was not the great place we were expecting, but after a good night's sleep we changed some US dollars for local in the post office, found a shop that took a credit
card and walking around the town with fresh fruit laden trees and shrubs everywhere for the taking.

Mindful of the SE gale forecast for later in the week, we decided to make a quick turn around and try to get ahead of the strong winds and get a good tail wind push towards the island of Hiva Oa in the
Marquesas group.
Prior to leaving we managed to get an amazing walk in along the ridge that divides the island and picked plenty of wild fruit filling the back pack on route.
After dropping off the rubbish recycling at the pubelle and successfully decanting propane from a local cylinder into our empty one on the stern of the boat, we did a quick provision shop (at eye watering
prices for even the basics) and collected our laundry (unwashed but glad to have it back all the same). Finally, we loaded a very large hand of bananas bought off the back of a truck into the dinghy and to top
it all we bought 3 perfect black pearls to celebrate our Pearl wedding anniversary. Jobs done and its time to go and catch up with our lovely Cornish cousins on Distraction 800 miles away in Hiva Oa.

With strong northerlies knocking at our door and arriving late in the day it's been a pretty dramatic arrival at Pitcairn.
A very welcomed friendly voice came over the VHF welcoming us and advising we hove- to for the night which is what we agreed would be the best option. We battened down the hatches and set Zephyr up
for a long night just off the island. Incredibly dramatic watching such an angry skyline of storm clouds accumulating with the sun setting and trying show us an occasional beam of light in the background. The
island sits proud straight out of the sea with no stray smaller islands scattered around just this one large chunk of volcanic rock isolated in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. I can only imagine what the crew of
the Bounty must have thought on arriving here and how brave to have stepped on to this unchartered island. Even with all our modern technology we have on Zephyr, the charting of the waters around the
island is pretty sketchy.
It didn't help we had such strong winds and 3 metre steep choppy sea, but somehow Colin set us up comfortably so we could gently drift and wait till morning.
Seeing the island in the morning with fresh eyes I spotted s a small hamlet of houses nestled deep into the rich background of green, Trees scattered and silhouetted against the still grumbling skyline of
storm clouds and way down on the shoreline a very small breakwater sheltering the slipway with a lot of white water crashing right into it.
A VHF radio call put us in touch with Simon ashore who was incredibly helpful and offering to drive up the hill to check each of the anchorages to report back on conditions. We took his advice and headed
around the south side with the promise of calmer seas. It was definitely calmer but the anchor spot sat close to a very rocky shoreline and towering cliffs above. Anyone who knows the north coast of
Cornwall will appreciate how unforgiving it is for sailing and this spot reminded me of Cligger Head near St. Agnes!
No sooner had we put the anchor down we heard the unnerving sound of chain on rock, gut instinct told us both to get the anchor up, we needed make a decision on whether this island stop is worth the
risk. Even in the short time we had the anchor down it had snagged and the down drafts from the high cliffs and the gusts curling around the island from east and west sent Zephyr in to a merry-go-round ride.
With the forecast not improving until the following day and nowhere else safe to anchor we both decided to accept defeat and move on.
Both of us where terribly disappointed but probably Colin more so, even he with his experience knew this was not meant to be.
We would like to thank Simon, Brenda and Randy (Randy was going to collect us and ferry us in and out in one of the island boats in between his other duties) a massive thank you for your lovely warm
welcome and advice. Such an extraordinary place with no airport or ferry just a ship now and then with provisions and being totally in the lap of the Gods with weather and sea conditions. I hope other sailors
give it a go to land as I'm sure it's worth it when the conditions are right. We were so lucky to have the time on Easter Island we can't have it all our own way.
So on to French Polynesia with a warmer climate and hopefully calmer seas but you never know as we are learning not to take anything for granted!

I'm beginning to understand why Mutiny is a big thing in these waters! This has to be our most laborious passages to date. We were aware that this particular stretch is a bit tricky due to fickle winds but we
weren't banking on quite such a slow passage with an average of just over 4 knots so far. The daily weather forecast doesn't seem to show any signs of improving so big black clouds keep looming.
I'm aware that we could sail the 1100 miles to Pitcairn and not be able to anchor let alone go ashore if the weather is poor as the subject came up many a time way back in the planning stages that this could
happen. But, still it stayed on the itinerary for the main reason it was on Colin's wish list. He last came here as a cadet on a cargo ship from New Zealand in 1976. They had a passenger who was a Pitcairn
islander returning after a stay in hospital. The ship was scheduled to deliver him and about 40 drums of diesel on their way back to UK via to Panama. The island left a fond memory for Colin and he thought it
a novel idea try trying to visit again. That's all very well but it is quite a dog leg getting here with a lot of risks (talking of dogs he has promised a dog when we get home and I need to put this in writing to
remind him of his promise!).
We are both pretty tired with our sleep pattern interrupted most nights with change of wind directions and endless reefing. With Colin taking the brunt of it, it's all I can do to make sure he is fed, watered
and rested and doing what I can on my watches to maintain what he has set up. The main thing is I don't fiddle!
I'm out of books to read and have now taken up sketching along with everything else I do to pass the time. Today I will be mostly drawing a shell and maybe bake some moral boosting peanut butter biscuits
to keep us going.
Fingers crossed we can anchor and get ashore or my next episode will be titled �"Mutiny on Zephyr�"

With nearly 10,000 nautical miles under our belt since setting off from the Helford in Cornwall we continue our journey west looking forward to visiting 'Pitcairn' another remote island consisting of only 3
square miles of land, home to approximately 40 people most of whom descend from the Bounty mutineers. In 1790 Fletcher Christian along with eight other mutineers landed here with their Tahitian wives
and scuttled the Bounty. Today a small community remains, and the island is a UK dependency. Day to day affairs are run by an island council administered by an office in Auckland, New Zealand.
I'm particularly interested to hear their language which I understand is a blend of 18th century English and Tahitian!
Meanwhile we have slotted back into sailing with about 600nm to go on a slowish non-eventful passage so far with little in the way of wildlife although Colin had a serious nibble on the fishing line and was
about to land a Dorado this morning before it managed to get away at the stern. Most of our time is spent trimming sails to accommodate the ever-changing wind and sea thrown in our path. We are now
outside the trade wind belt so have winds from any direction and strength and for the first 3 days the wind and sea was indeed pretty changeable. The continuous squalls seem to whip the sea up in a blink
of an eye from a washing machine mid-speed spin to full eco-wash, then leaving us floundering in the lulls between squalls in the long huge ocean swells leaving us constantly watching for the windvane
(Betty Stoggs with her very smart new red cover after the flying fish incident) steering taking us off in the wrong direction, On the positive side, the downpours of rain has left us with plenty of fresh water to
collect to top up our tanks. I still prefer this cloudy slightly cooler climate to the burning sun and humid conditions of the Caribbean and Panama although we will be heading north soon to the islands of
French Polynesia and will no doubt start to get hot again.
You will all be delighted to know my Ukulele practice is in full swing on this leg with �"Are You Going to Scarborough Fair�" being a firm favourite of mine. Colin is patiently waiting for a new tune to tap his
toes too and if my brother Nick is reading this �"don't say a word�" I am trying really hard to get better! Sailing Yacht Distraction will be very excited when I can play �"What Shall We Do With A Drunken Sailor�" on
our next catch up.