7/28/2010
We are about 15 miles from Carins harbor yayayayay! We have BB coverage now. Its still very windy and actually quite rough still even inside the reef but we see land LAND HO!!!
On sunday evening on Will's watch a boobie bird committed suicide by trying to land on our wind generator and in so doing broke two of its blades. We have been trying to conserve power since then so as not to have to run the motor hence no emails yesterday. Will said the bird landed in the water right next to him like a big wet rag hitting the water and wasn't moving.
Anyway, we should be anchored in Carins hopefully before sunset tonight
7/29/2010
We are cleared in now customs and quarantine done. Shower (much needed) and laundry doing soon and eating of course. Australia is so beautiful and everyone is interesting or quirky and all have been very nice. The customs lady that cleared us in was a hasher (what are the odds) and offered us a ride to the next hash. Pretty cool I thought.
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
Saturday, July 24, 2010
Swells on the Ocean
Alan sent the following update:
Saturday 7/24, Day 6
Later yesterday evening we swapped the #3 for the storm jib for the night. We had some squalls come through and rain that brought some stronger winds (25knots steady with higher gusts). We averaged 5.1 knots through the night and this morning, after one last squall and the wind settled a little bit we decided to put the #3 back up for the day if the wind doesn't pipe up again.
Overall the seas have been very impressive lately. Large rolling swells from multiple directions, wind trails across the water, cresting waves at the top of the biggest water mountains (that occasionally turn the cockpit in to a bath tub), but our little boat just keeps bobbing over it all.
230Nm to the great barrier reef as of 1pm today. Then another couple days and we're there!
Then in another email he mentioned the swells:
Saturday 7/24, Day 6
Later yesterday evening we swapped the #3 for the storm jib for the night. We had some squalls come through and rain that brought some stronger winds (25knots steady with higher gusts). We averaged 5.1 knots through the night and this morning, after one last squall and the wind settled a little bit we decided to put the #3 back up for the day if the wind doesn't pipe up again.
Overall the seas have been very impressive lately. Large rolling swells from multiple directions, wind trails across the water, cresting waves at the top of the biggest water mountains (that occasionally turn the cockpit in to a bath tub), but our little boat just keeps bobbing over it all.
230Nm to the great barrier reef as of 1pm today. Then another couple days and we're there!
Then in another email he mentioned the swells:
Ssome of the swells i have seen on this crossing and the sustained winds have been the biggest and strongest that i have ever seen. :) I've taken some good videos to show you. But they never seem to do the swells justice.
They say that once you've seen them (big swells or wind) once your immune from the "OH MY GOD!" initial reaction until you see something BIGGER. So some people are not surprised by any of it. It seems universally accepted however that the swells and wind down in the "roaring 40's" latitudes trump all and make a trade wind crossing of the pacific look like a lazy river. I imagine that our "storm" doesn't amount to much in comparison. When i think it looks rough out here, i just remind myself of that.
Friday, July 23, 2010
Onward to Australia
Well they weathered their first big storm, and much has happened since. The EYE posts provide some information on their visit to Vanuata. While there, Alan told us they managed to get the motor working right, the head repaired, but the main sheet which tore during the storm will have to wait repair till they get to Australia, it can be used in a reefed position.
I apologize for being so busy that I haven’t kept this updates. We still enjoy daily emails and updates from Alan and I’ve tried to do some catch up below with his emails since they sailed from Vanuata.
Monday July 19 - Day 1
We had a great time exploring Vanuatu with highlights including seeing a volcano as we entered the island group, Snorkeling at Million Dollar Point, and enjoying some new and interesting foods. We left Luganville yesterday at 2 in the afternoon headed for Carins, Australia.
We have been sailing under Mizzen and Storm Jib with no need for our main so far due to strong trades that should continue for the rest of this week we hope. We are making around 6 knots average on a broad reach almost due west. The swells are around 3-4 meters (about 12 feet) from the SE and we have roughly 950Nm before we reach the great barrier reef with a further 200 after that to Carins.
It's a little rolly onboard and the cockpit is a little wet but were all up for it and happy to be on the move. Australia here we come.
Tuesday July 20, Day 2
The wind had subsided enough that we put the #1 headsail up around noon and the cockpit is drying out nicely. It's still a little rolly below but were all getting our sea legs by now. We've knocked out about 125Nm in the last noon to noon run.
We bought some fresh provisions in Vanuatu including about six short baguette breads, 2 bread loafs, 8 grapefruit, 2 cucumbers, a bunch of onions, and potatoes. Having fresh foods is so nice but they won't last forever. One of our breads is already getting a little fuzzy. We also expect that we will have to turn over all of our foreign canned meats when we get to Carins due to Australia's strict policies so we'd better start eating all that spam and luncheon meat. Yum Yum.
Wednesday July 21, day 3
Today has been a lazy day. Everyone is going through the phase of a crossing where mostly you just sleep or lay in your bunk, eat, or sit in the cockpit at your watch. The days are starting to mush together as we lock into our rotation schedule.
Before leaving, I thought it would be a good idea to clean up a little so I stowed everything below my bunk and made quite a bit of room for myself by organizing some things. Unfortunately, after our first night I realized that all my stuff that had been piled in my bunk with me was actually what was keeping me from rolling back and forth in the night. It took me a long time to find a sufficiently body constraining position that allowed me to get to sleep. What a weird problem to have. "Not enough stuff with you in the bed to fall asleep". Oh well.
The wind has been fluctuating between around 10 and 15knots from the SE and although the swells have settled down considerably, it has been pretty choppy today with about equal 2-3ft swell from the S, SE, and E. We still have the #1 headsail up and making good speed. We have been getting a lot of dew lately at night and today has felt very hazy and muggy. During the day, the sun is hot hot hot and with the hatches closed the cabin can get a little gross. Thankfully we were able to open the boat up a little in a lull and get some fresh air through the boat.
Were about 630Nm from the great barrier reef. About 230 miles from being halfway there, and about 180 miles from our next time zone change which will put us in Eastern Australia time. 14 hours ahead of Eastern US time.
Thursday Day 4, July 22
Winds have picked up steadily today and shifted slightly to the south. Just before sundown we swapped the #1 headsail for the #3 and the mainsail. The swells have been building also and are around 8ft or so now from the ESE.
For dinner Will had dreams of a cheeseburger. What resulted was a slice of fried SPAM with hunks of our "last a long time" cheese that comes in a box all rolled up in a pancake bun! It's the closest thing I've had to a cheeseburger in 4 days and very inventive. 2 thumbs up from this cheeseburger critic.
Friday Day 5, July 23
We dropped the main sometime in the night and the wind has kept building all morning from the ESE to around 20 knots now with larger swells back up around 10-12 feet like we had seen at the beginning of the crossing. We're (konck on wood) about 3 days from the great barrier reef. Not sure how much umph the reef will take out of this trade wind swell but with any luck it will calm down a little.
All is well, counting down the miles.
Monday, July 12, 2010
Their First Big Storm
Woke up this morning to this very long email from Alan dated July 11th, describing the storm they had just passed through. Possibly it is the storm Paul mentioned in yesterdays post; he could see by comparing uGRIB with SPOT that the EYE and that big storm were headed away from each other. But he had no idea where the storm was relative to their position the previous day. We were not sure how bad their encounter with it might have been. uGrib indicated plenty of 40 mph winds.
Alan's Report:
That's what I would call it. We've been through smaller squalls and heavy downpours before but nothing that I would call a "real storm" until now. It was around 3pm on July 10th, 2010 and we were 2 days out from Fiji headed for the island of Tanna in Vanuatu with about 300 Nm to go when...
We were watching a movie in the cockpit with a light wind from behind and making around 4 knots with the main and #1 headsail wing on wing. We could see a rain shower approaching from the East and soon it was drizzling and down went the computer into the cabin. Will and I also retreated into the cabin and Adam and Amanda were left on deck for their watch. The drizzle turned into a downpour and the wind built to a little over 10 knots accompanied by a sudden shift to the North. We were used to this by now since the smaller rain squalls we had encountered had all come with shifts usually to the north. We were now blasting along at 8knots and up with full sails boring down on a course of SSW. Will and I shut and dogged down all the hatches and pretty soon came the call from on deck, "Lets drop the jib." Will and I donned our foul weather gear and harnesses and came up on deck. Almost instantly we were soaked.
The Jib was set out with the whisker pole to starboard which meant that we couldn't turn from a course of dead down wind until it was dropped. Usually we would do this by jibing the mainsail (which was on port) over to "blanket" the jib and relieve the pressure of the wind so that the pole could be removed and then the sail lowered or jibed or whatever was called for. In this case we were hesitant to jibe the main due to the strength of the wind as this can be a hairy maneuver. The real problem was that we assumed this would be a passing shower like we had experienced before and we waited too long to shorten sail. We could see the back end of the squall on radar and decided to wait a little longer and see if the wind shifted or died down a little. It didn't so we enacted plan B which was to drop the headsail without removing the spinnaker pole first. We'd never tried this before but it seemed do-able so with Will at the bow ready to bunch up the sail and I at the mast lowering the halyard we gave it a go. Will managed to pull the sail in as it was lowered and kept it out of the water and as soon as most of it was under control, I unpinned the whisker pole and secured it on deck. Mission accomplished. With the jib down, we were able to turn to starboard and get back on a westward course. About 30 min later, the wind and rain subsided and we continued along this way for the next hour or so.
It was now my watch and it was raining. We were on course with just a full mainsail up making 7 knots or better. (In hindsight we waited too long to reef here too) Another rain line came up from behind accompanied with another shift, more rain, and more wind. It was like nothing I had ever seen before (and no, this isn't the storm yet). Screaming along doing 8 knots or better with rain so thick you couldn't see in any direction for more than a couple of boat lengths. There was so much rain it seemed to beat the choppy waves down into smooth rollers. It was getting darker by the minute and I called down for a reef in the main. Will and Adam clamored up from below and 10 minutes later the boat felt much better with the first reef point in the mainsail. The wind subsided gradually during my watch but the rain was more or less a constant. By the time I passed the watch off to Will at 8pm the sky had mostly broken and some start were even visible. Little did we know that the real test was yet to come.
It was now around 8:30pm and although Will had just started his watch, everyone down below was as close to being fast asleep as you can get in a rolling boat. I was awoken by the sound of the wind generator first. It's usual whirring and typical vibration that we have all become accustomed to was stronger than ever and out of curiosity I leaned over to check the amperage output on our power meter. The highest I saw it hit was 32amps. If you don't have experience with small wind generators then just trust me that that was a lot. The boat was vibrating in an odd way and having lived on the boat for almost 8 months it was easy to be aware of any "abnormal sounds" and they usually wake you right up from a dead sleep. Our wind generator is designed to "brake" itself when the wind is too strong (50knots or more according to the manual) or when the battery voltage indicates that the batteries are full. I could hear the wind gen braking which was normal but the sound that came next wasn't. A loud screeching sort of noise like a cross between a blender and a dying helicopter could be heard from up top and within moments Will called down for us. Adam roused me out of bed, "Were gonna drop the main and put up the storm jib, and by the way what is that noise?" We threw on our jackets and harnesses and Adam was first out of the hatch. He called down to me, "It's the wind gen, just turn it off." The wind gen has a manual brake feature which I engaged with the flip of a switch but it was obviously not working as the noise just continued as loud as ever. The entire time we worked on deck the sound of the screeching wind generator was with us. At times I was afraid the blades would shatter and be thrown down onto us but there was little we could do about it at the time.
Once on deck the realness of the situation was upon us. There was more wind and more rain than I have ever before seen from a boat. With the single reefed main, we had too much canvas up and a quick inspection of the main revealed that it had already blown out. There was now a two and a half foot vertical tear just forward of the second reef pennant that had probably happened just moments ago. Will was fighting the helm and Adam clipped in and started pulling the rest of the mainsail down from the mast. I clipped in and followed on the port side wrestling the main around the boom and strapping it down. I continued to get the boat "right" by helping Will to lower the bimini and coil and unfoul sheets and halyards and stowing unnecessary items from the cockpit. Adam came up with the storm jib and began hanking it on. I was tempted to go below for the anemometer to measure the wind speed but I was obviously needed on deck and anyway, I'm not sure it would have survived the rain. Everything takes an exponentially longer amount of time in higher wind and the rain felt like we were being shot with tiny bb gun pellets. Every step and movement on the slippery deck is one that could end in a slip over the rail or into a sharp cleat or the corner of a winch drum. Of course you don't think about that in the moment, you just do whatever needs doing. Adam called that he was ready from the bow but voice communication was pretty much useless unless you were talking into the person's ear. The wind drowned out everything but the whistling of the rigging and the spray onto the deck. We hoisted the storm jib and hardened the sheets. The boats motion calmed, the apparent wind was reduced, and we were "running" with the storm.
We regrouped back in the cockpit with the boat now under control and hauling butt downwind on a port tack. Will took a look at the chart plotter. We were headed EAST! We got set to jibe and after a quick WHOMP of the storm jib we were on course again making good speed. Just then the chart plotter took a turn for the worst. Our best guess is that it decided that it was tired so it shut itself off. We could awaken it but only for a few minutes at a time. We unplugged it and sent it down below to dry off.
The wind was beginning to subside a little and with Will steering by compass alone Adam and I, soaked to the bone, retreated to the cabin leaving Will to finish out his watch. I had a restless night listening to the wind and battling the books and cloths that I shared my bunk with. A leaky window right above the quarter berth certainly didn't help. I was already awake at 5am when my watch started and I came on deck to find that most of the wind had subsided and the mizzen sail had been set in the night. We were making little progress and mostly just rolling at the mercy of the confused chop. At sunrise, I traded out the storm jib for the #3 headsail and by 8am when Will came up on deck, we had blue skies and a light southerly wind. We set the double reefed main and #1 headsail and started drying out. We had survived our first "real storm."
In daylight, the casualties of the night were reviewed: The mainsail, torn below the second reef point is still usable in the double reefed configuration. Adam opened up the chart plotter and discovered that it leaked through a small hatch where the electronic chart chip is inserted. Efforts to repair it have failed so far. With no chartplotter, our radar and AIS capability is down too. Our next best piece of gear is Will's iphone which he equipped with detailed charts of the pacific before coming on the trip. Without the iphone we would be without charts for the island of Tanna and forced to change our destination to Port Vila further North which we have paper charts for. The wind generator seems to be working normally this morning so far which is a relief. We suspect that the terrible noise we heard could have been the emergency brake feature but I doubt that we saw 50knots at any point but who knows. After getting the storm jib up we turned on our steaming light to help illuminate the sail for the helmsman and to make us more visible but that too died in the night possibly due to all the rain.
All in all, we were very lucky that wind and rain and not giant waves were all that we faced. The swell and chop was relatively flat through it all. No one was injured and we made it through unscathed and in good spirits. Today we are making good progress under #1 headsail, double reefed main, and mizzen and with the wind dying, we turned on the motor around 2pm to keep up our pace. We have mostly blue skies with scattered clouds, the sun has dried our all of our soggy gear and a large pot of pasta has restored our energy. Nothing worth having ever comes easily and we hope the island of Tanna is good as they say it is.
Alan
Alan's Report:
That's what I would call it. We've been through smaller squalls and heavy downpours before but nothing that I would call a "real storm" until now. It was around 3pm on July 10th, 2010 and we were 2 days out from Fiji headed for the island of Tanna in Vanuatu with about 300 Nm to go when...
We were watching a movie in the cockpit with a light wind from behind and making around 4 knots with the main and #1 headsail wing on wing. We could see a rain shower approaching from the East and soon it was drizzling and down went the computer into the cabin. Will and I also retreated into the cabin and Adam and Amanda were left on deck for their watch. The drizzle turned into a downpour and the wind built to a little over 10 knots accompanied by a sudden shift to the North. We were used to this by now since the smaller rain squalls we had encountered had all come with shifts usually to the north. We were now blasting along at 8knots and up with full sails boring down on a course of SSW. Will and I shut and dogged down all the hatches and pretty soon came the call from on deck, "Lets drop the jib." Will and I donned our foul weather gear and harnesses and came up on deck. Almost instantly we were soaked.
The Jib was set out with the whisker pole to starboard which meant that we couldn't turn from a course of dead down wind until it was dropped. Usually we would do this by jibing the mainsail (which was on port) over to "blanket" the jib and relieve the pressure of the wind so that the pole could be removed and then the sail lowered or jibed or whatever was called for. In this case we were hesitant to jibe the main due to the strength of the wind as this can be a hairy maneuver. The real problem was that we assumed this would be a passing shower like we had experienced before and we waited too long to shorten sail. We could see the back end of the squall on radar and decided to wait a little longer and see if the wind shifted or died down a little. It didn't so we enacted plan B which was to drop the headsail without removing the spinnaker pole first. We'd never tried this before but it seemed do-able so with Will at the bow ready to bunch up the sail and I at the mast lowering the halyard we gave it a go. Will managed to pull the sail in as it was lowered and kept it out of the water and as soon as most of it was under control, I unpinned the whisker pole and secured it on deck. Mission accomplished. With the jib down, we were able to turn to starboard and get back on a westward course. About 30 min later, the wind and rain subsided and we continued along this way for the next hour or so.
It was now my watch and it was raining. We were on course with just a full mainsail up making 7 knots or better. (In hindsight we waited too long to reef here too) Another rain line came up from behind accompanied with another shift, more rain, and more wind. It was like nothing I had ever seen before (and no, this isn't the storm yet). Screaming along doing 8 knots or better with rain so thick you couldn't see in any direction for more than a couple of boat lengths. There was so much rain it seemed to beat the choppy waves down into smooth rollers. It was getting darker by the minute and I called down for a reef in the main. Will and Adam clamored up from below and 10 minutes later the boat felt much better with the first reef point in the mainsail. The wind subsided gradually during my watch but the rain was more or less a constant. By the time I passed the watch off to Will at 8pm the sky had mostly broken and some start were even visible. Little did we know that the real test was yet to come.
It was now around 8:30pm and although Will had just started his watch, everyone down below was as close to being fast asleep as you can get in a rolling boat. I was awoken by the sound of the wind generator first. It's usual whirring and typical vibration that we have all become accustomed to was stronger than ever and out of curiosity I leaned over to check the amperage output on our power meter. The highest I saw it hit was 32amps. If you don't have experience with small wind generators then just trust me that that was a lot. The boat was vibrating in an odd way and having lived on the boat for almost 8 months it was easy to be aware of any "abnormal sounds" and they usually wake you right up from a dead sleep. Our wind generator is designed to "brake" itself when the wind is too strong (50knots or more according to the manual) or when the battery voltage indicates that the batteries are full. I could hear the wind gen braking which was normal but the sound that came next wasn't. A loud screeching sort of noise like a cross between a blender and a dying helicopter could be heard from up top and within moments Will called down for us. Adam roused me out of bed, "Were gonna drop the main and put up the storm jib, and by the way what is that noise?" We threw on our jackets and harnesses and Adam was first out of the hatch. He called down to me, "It's the wind gen, just turn it off." The wind gen has a manual brake feature which I engaged with the flip of a switch but it was obviously not working as the noise just continued as loud as ever. The entire time we worked on deck the sound of the screeching wind generator was with us. At times I was afraid the blades would shatter and be thrown down onto us but there was little we could do about it at the time.
Once on deck the realness of the situation was upon us. There was more wind and more rain than I have ever before seen from a boat. With the single reefed main, we had too much canvas up and a quick inspection of the main revealed that it had already blown out. There was now a two and a half foot vertical tear just forward of the second reef pennant that had probably happened just moments ago. Will was fighting the helm and Adam clipped in and started pulling the rest of the mainsail down from the mast. I clipped in and followed on the port side wrestling the main around the boom and strapping it down. I continued to get the boat "right" by helping Will to lower the bimini and coil and unfoul sheets and halyards and stowing unnecessary items from the cockpit. Adam came up with the storm jib and began hanking it on. I was tempted to go below for the anemometer to measure the wind speed but I was obviously needed on deck and anyway, I'm not sure it would have survived the rain. Everything takes an exponentially longer amount of time in higher wind and the rain felt like we were being shot with tiny bb gun pellets. Every step and movement on the slippery deck is one that could end in a slip over the rail or into a sharp cleat or the corner of a winch drum. Of course you don't think about that in the moment, you just do whatever needs doing. Adam called that he was ready from the bow but voice communication was pretty much useless unless you were talking into the person's ear. The wind drowned out everything but the whistling of the rigging and the spray onto the deck. We hoisted the storm jib and hardened the sheets. The boats motion calmed, the apparent wind was reduced, and we were "running" with the storm.
We regrouped back in the cockpit with the boat now under control and hauling butt downwind on a port tack. Will took a look at the chart plotter. We were headed EAST! We got set to jibe and after a quick WHOMP of the storm jib we were on course again making good speed. Just then the chart plotter took a turn for the worst. Our best guess is that it decided that it was tired so it shut itself off. We could awaken it but only for a few minutes at a time. We unplugged it and sent it down below to dry off.
The wind was beginning to subside a little and with Will steering by compass alone Adam and I, soaked to the bone, retreated to the cabin leaving Will to finish out his watch. I had a restless night listening to the wind and battling the books and cloths that I shared my bunk with. A leaky window right above the quarter berth certainly didn't help. I was already awake at 5am when my watch started and I came on deck to find that most of the wind had subsided and the mizzen sail had been set in the night. We were making little progress and mostly just rolling at the mercy of the confused chop. At sunrise, I traded out the storm jib for the #3 headsail and by 8am when Will came up on deck, we had blue skies and a light southerly wind. We set the double reefed main and #1 headsail and started drying out. We had survived our first "real storm."
In daylight, the casualties of the night were reviewed: The mainsail, torn below the second reef point is still usable in the double reefed configuration. Adam opened up the chart plotter and discovered that it leaked through a small hatch where the electronic chart chip is inserted. Efforts to repair it have failed so far. With no chartplotter, our radar and AIS capability is down too. Our next best piece of gear is Will's iphone which he equipped with detailed charts of the pacific before coming on the trip. Without the iphone we would be without charts for the island of Tanna and forced to change our destination to Port Vila further North which we have paper charts for. The wind generator seems to be working normally this morning so far which is a relief. We suspect that the terrible noise we heard could have been the emergency brake feature but I doubt that we saw 50knots at any point but who knows. After getting the storm jib up we turned on our steaming light to help illuminate the sail for the helmsman and to make us more visible but that too died in the night possibly due to all the rain.
All in all, we were very lucky that wind and rain and not giant waves were all that we faced. The swell and chop was relatively flat through it all. No one was injured and we made it through unscathed and in good spirits. Today we are making good progress under #1 headsail, double reefed main, and mizzen and with the wind dying, we turned on the motor around 2pm to keep up our pace. We have mostly blue skies with scattered clouds, the sun has dried our all of our soggy gear and a large pot of pasta has restored our energy. Nothing worth having ever comes easily and we hope the island of Tanna is good as they say it is.
Alan
Saturday, July 10, 2010
Moving away from a storm
On Sunday morning (Saturday, 10 July 2010 at 10:41pm Eastern Time), Alan Stewart sent the following storm email message by radio: "We are doing fine. We have a strong safe boat and it is taking good care of us."
At that time the SPOT position data and weather data from uGrib indicated that they are headed NW away from the storm. The storm was to the south of them and was at that time headed away from them towards the SE.
Image of SPOT position data
Image of Weather data from uGrib:
a storm south of Fiji packing 40 mph winds
on Sunday morning (Saturday night June 10, 2010 eastern time)
Update: (Sunday July 11 10:30am eastern time)
Here is a weather forecast from the Fiji Meterological Service which is an agency of the Fijian government:
Marine Weather Bulletin Issued from the National Weather Forecasting Centre Nadi at 1:30am on Monday the 12th of July 2010
A STRONG WIND WARNING REMAINS IN FORCE FOR NORTHERN VANUA LEVU, NORTHERN LAU, YASAWA AND MAMANUCA WATERS, KORO SEA, VATU-I-RA PASSAGE AND SOUTHERN LAU WATERS.
Situation:
An active trough of low pressure with associated rain and thunderstorms over Vanua Levu is gradually moving eastwards.
Forecast to midnight tonight for Fiji waters: For Yasawa and Mamanuca, northern Vanua Levu, Northern Lau waters, Koro Sea, Vatu-i-ra passage and Southern Lau: West to southwest winds 20 to 25 knots, easing to 15 to 20 knots later today. Moderate to rough seas, rough in squalls . Moderate southwest swells. Poor visibility in areas of heavy rain and thunderastorms. Further outlook: Southwest winds 15 to 20 knots.
For the rest of Fiji waters: West to southwest winds 15 to 20 knots. Moderate seas,rough in squalls. Moderate southwest swells. Poor visibility in areas of heavy rain and thunderastorms. Further outlook: Southwest winds 15 to 20 knots.
And latest weather data from uGrib....
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
Fijian Islands
Update from Alan...
Wednesday July 7th
Bula! Bula! (hello or welcome in Fijian) We arrived in Lautoka today after a 24 hour sail from Savusavu on the north island of Fiji. Most of the sailing was through passes of calm water with coral reefs all around. We tried to time the trip so that most of the passes were done in daylight. I have been pretty surprised at what Fiji is like. I guess I thought it was a tropical island paradise like Bora Bora. If you had told me it was lots of mountains, Indian food, hot springs, pine forest and sugar plantations I guess I might have been surprised. It has a little bit of everything. Including some of the best reefs and scuba diving in the world (which we didn’t get close enough to take advantage of) and like almost every place we have been, I am continually seeing things that I wish we could do but don’t have enough time and know that I could spend a month here and not be bored or see it all. We have met many many cruisers who HAVE seen it all sailing the pretty much the same route as us and left Canada or other east coast ports 3-5 years ago and have only gotten as far as we are now. One couple who we met upon our arrival here said it best, ”Man you guys need to drop out of warp speed!” Our mantra seems to be “darn, I wish we could do that but were leaving in the morning.”
Lautoka, also known as the sugar city for its big sugar exportation industry is the 2nd largest city in Fiji and has a much different feel than Savusavu. It is much more “city like” with literally hundreds of busy shops mostly run by Indians who are decedants of the migrant labor brought here in the early 20th century to work the sugar plantations. There is a bus station and a train, a mall, large produce and handicraft market and a large shipping port. Similar in many ways to Papeete, Tahiti.
We anchored around noon and cleared into customs and spent the day on the town. We found a place to get some cheap food, and saw the produce market. I bought a small bag of ground Waka which we will use to try and make Kava later. Kava is the ceremonial drink of the western pacific islands. It has a mild grassy flavor and gives a feeling of relaxation and somewhat of a buzz but very mildly so. It is mostly similar to tea I suppose but very traditional and ceremonial. Later, Will and I went off on our own and Adam and Amanda went exploring on their own. We have done this so far it works well since they walk very fast and Will and I like to stop and smell the roses a lot usually without a plan just breathing it all in and going with the flow. It works really well and I have yet to regret this way of exploring.
We stopped at a barber shop because Will wanted a hair/beard cut. Almost every Indian shop here advertises as a barber and a tailor for the matter, so that wasn’t hard to find. I was even asked if I would like a haircut while walking down the street. Will got a very nice haircut for 3 fijian dollars and is very clean cut looking now with a trimmed beard even. I opted to stay a spectator. Afterwards, we wandered into some random shops and looked at everything from second hand cloths to DVD’s to handicrafts. We enjoyed just walking around and reading the random advertizing signs like, “Meat Bird for sale, Inquire inside”, or “Cloths for sale, 5 dollars each.” Many eateries offer “takeway” food and almost every single shop has fried food that has been sitting under a hot lamp which is usually cheap and delicious. We also found some ice cream OF COURSE.
We were also in search of a place to maybe watch the world cup tomorrow Will is a big follower. Another game is tomorrow at 630am local time so that may be difficult but that didn’t deter us from at least checking out a couple of places that were recommended by the cruising couple we met on the way in. The Sea View Hotel was an unlikely looking place on the water and we asked the lady at the desk where we could find a place to get a beer. “You can get one here of course, have a seat!” was her reply. So we did. They had a TV but she looked confused when we tried to ask if she would be able to get the game in the morning at 630. The second place we checked out was across the street from “The most exclusive night club in Lautoka” (that was the name of the place) but we didn’t see a TV so we moved on.
We kept wandering, wondering if Adam and Amanda would be headed back to the dinghy dock since it was already around 630pm. We decided to head that direction and made a detour to check out one last place “The Northern Club” a country club type place with some tennis courts, a pool and large dance floor area with snooker tables, a big bar and a deck. We just had to sign our names and they let us in. There we saw Adam and Amanda just sitting down at a table. We were surprised but glad we didn’t have to keep guessing if they were waiting on us back at the boat. We hadn’t made a plan to meet up anywhere. Oops. Anyway we all had a few beers there and asked about the world cup in the morning but it didn’t sound like they were that excited about it and Will didn’t seem too worried. Personally I’ll be surprised if we are out of bed before 730 tomorrow morning.
We walked back to the dock through the container ship port and rowed the dinghy back to the boat which is where I now sit, recalling our days adventuring.
Plans:
We plan to spend today here exploring some other areas, maybe bussing over to a new town. Unfortunately, the Fiji water bottling company does not offer tours of their facility which we were kind of hoping to see. Then on Friday, we will move the boat about 12 miles further south to a proper yacht marina to fill up on diesel fuel before leaving directly for Vanuatu. We are planning to make landfall there at, Tana or Tona, not sure how you spell it but there is apparently an active volcano on the island that you can hike up which I hope will be a great highlight of our stop there! It’s about 650 miles to Vanuatu and then another 1300 and change to Carins. Will and I are very much looking forward to spending time in AUS and travelling down the coast to Sydney exploring along the way.
Friday, July 2, 2010
No Bread?
June 30th:
4:15pm here onboard the WTP. We are underway to Fiji now have left in the wee hours of the morning last night. The wind has just picked up and we were able to turn the motor off. We have been motoring since we left Vavau and the wind has been very very light until this evening. We have 300 miles to go and hope the wind remains steady and calm for the rest of the crossing.
July1st:
We saw fish jumping earlier today and I threw the line in the water but no luck so far.Everything going fine today. Wish I had caught a fish. We managed to leave Vavau without buying any fresh fruit or veg or even bread. I don't know how we managed to do that but I think it has something to do with with our middle of the night departures. ( I guess we could have bought some bread but we all forgot really). At least we have propane (this they forgot last time)...and now some wind. We have plenty of wind now though so I would trade some it for some bread.
When I get home I cannot wait to hang out with you guys and show you all of my pictures over some great big Amante's Pizzas!!!! Amante's pizza may be the best pizza in the whole world. Certainly there is nothing even close out here. We had pizza when we landed in Vavau and it left much to be desired and it was expensive. I would kill for some Amante's pizza right now. Ok, i need to stop thinking about food I guess. If only I could stop dreaming about it. :)
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