Tue, 30 Jul 2002
(We are alive and well in Fiji, but haven't seen email in a while. More on our escapades in Fiji to come in the next few days.)
Passage to Minerva Reef:
Before leaving New Zealand, we returned briefly to Auckland to finish a few projects and say our goodbyes to friends there. We finished the last of our projects and felt more ready for a passage than ever before. We had time to do a few fun things before leaving.
We fit in a few more nights out with our gang before we disperse in different directions. We even had time to schedule an interview with a Japanese sailing magazine the day before we were planning to leave. We also stopped by to check out the Alinghi Compound for Switzerland's America's Cup Team that had just opened to the public. The base featured a number of interesting displays and simulators, but of course nothing proprietary. Garth and I had a go on the coffee grinders (large winches) during a simulated spinnaker hoist and I tried the bow simulator designed to test one's balance on the bow of a bucking boat (pretty normal at this point for me). Displays explained each team member position and its location on the boat as well as the skills required, outlined sail and hull composite materials and shed light on various tidbits about the America's Cup and its history. Many of the Alinghi team members were on site and we were able to pick out a number of well known sailors. I got the opportunity to meet Russell Coutts, take pictures and chat with him briefly, surprising him with our story of sailing to New Zealand from the U.S. When we return to New Zealand, the Louis Vuitton Challenger series is likely to be well underway and it'll be interesting to be here while it is going on. Of course, as before all major passages, all the bluewater cruisers in the marina were talking about when would be the best weather window to head for the tropics. We checked various weather sites on the Internet daily as we finished our preparations. We were all provisioned and ready to go, yet found that a low pressure system was stalled, creating adverse winds. Before each passage I tend to make a bunch of ready to eat meals to minimize the need for cooking in rough weather, so the clock was ticking on all this food, plus we were starting to eat through our stores. Finally the wind turned more southerly. While it takes courage to leave a perfectly good marina in a predicted gale with 50 knot gusts, it was great timing to get north quickly under a full moon.
For 3-4 days, we had 35+ knot winds mostly from behind us. During the first couple of days, we thought "Yee Ha! " It was a wet, wild ride. And it was really cold. We were averaging 7.5 knots with a sail about the size of a handkerchief (a reefed #3). By the third day, it was getting a little old. Our foul weather gear was soaked through and it was a challenge to do anything below decks, including putting on the many layers of clothing we needed to stay warm. We checked in with Russell Radio each morning by HF radio, giving our position coordinates, and received a personal weather prediction for our current position. When I heard a forecast that the wind was supposed to build again in our area, my heart sank, since it had finally become comfortable enough below to function beyond mere survival. But despite that forecast the wind and waves continued to mellow with fewer squalls and shift more behind us and by the 4th day we were pretty comfortable yet still going fast. We covered far more distance in much less time than on this same passage heading towards New Zealand without even raising the main sail until the 4th or 5th day. We saw more rainbows in those first few days than we've ever seen and we each saw the most incredible moonbow that could only be produced by a full moon and rainsqualls. And as the weather cleared, millions of stars more than we've been able to see amidst the lights of New Zealand became visible again. We headed east initially, while the wind was westerly assuming the wind would be from the SE and E once we got into the trade winds. Then we sailed mostly due north, hovering about the International Date line (180 degrees, where east meets west) and joking about going from tomorrow to yesterday by the whim of our heading.
On our 5th day, our sink drain disintegrated and we had gray bilge water flood the drawers of kitchen tools below the sink. So while we were bouncing around, on our precious off watch hours Garth was trying to rebuild the drain under the sink and I was trying to clean and dry all the miscellaneous drawer contents, including towels, hot pads, matches, etc. amidst unfinished dirty dishes from our prior meal. We got things back together eventually. The incident reminded me of the pressure cooker explosion we had a few days before leaving Auckland, spraying its contents of split pea soup all over our living area, and taking us hours to clean up. Thank God that didn't happen while we were underway!
We planned to stop at Minerva Reef, two shallow spots enclosed inside a fringing reef in the middle of the ocean, just a pit stop really, and we were quite ready for a little rest and clean up by the time we got close. Plus the wind was starting to turn against us. At nightfall, we were only 15 miles south of South Minerva reef with the wind quickly building from ahead of us. We loitered for about 16 hours in wet choppy seas before we could enter the reef safely in good daylight. Without GPS, a planned visit here (the only kind you'd want) would not be possible. We were within .5 mile before we spotted the reef and the narrow channel opening between breakers to the calmer waters inside. There is no land at Minerva, only a sharp reef that one can walk on for a couple of hours during low tide. During high tide, the reef is nearly invisible from just inside it and we were literally anchored in the middle of the ocean with no land for miles. We found it a little disquieting. On our way to Minerva, we read a fascinating story about a shipwreck there in 1962, stranding 17 Tongan men for nearly 4 months before they were able to build a small sailing outrigger (using only a serrated knife and a hammer from pieces of theirs and another wreck) on which 3 sailed 400 miles to Fiji to seek rescue for their party. Their story of survival amidst the most trying conditions was impressive and inspiring. I hope we only get to read about such things.
Here are the statistics for our trip to North Minerva Reef:
After arriving in Minerva Reef, we basically just slept, read and cleaned up the boat and ourselves for the first couple of days. We planned to stay a while to relax, to finish some of the fresh items we had on board and to gradually get used to the warmer temperatures before descending upon the intense heat of Fiji.
We contemplated launching the dinghy and rowing out to explore the reef during low tide, but hadn't mustered up the energy for it yet and thought it was a little windy in any case. Two other boats anchored nearby (one German and one Spanish) had launched their dinghies and had gone exploring a little. After dark, we heard voices outside and thought maybe some of the other yachties were off to try to catch lobster. When we heard the voices get louder and they began to blow on whistles, we realized that the folks in the dinghy were drifting rapidly across the lagoon. The wind was blowing them faster than they could paddle after their outboard had quit and, since the reef was submerged there was nothing to stop them for thousands of miles. Quickly we pulled out our floodlight to shine on them, took a bearing with the hand-bearing compass and called the other boat on the VHF to see if they could rescue them in their dinghy since ours wasn't yet in the water. Apparently the folks on Nicole of Spain had already put away their dinghy but in an impressively short time took up their anchor and set off towards where our light shone, watching for coral heads from the bow with a floodlight. We learned later that the German couple was returning to their boat after visiting with Nicole of Spain and had lost one oar and broken the second before realizing they needed outside help after their engine quit. The situation was a scary one, but produced a well-coordinated rescue. The incident strongly reminded us that Minerva Reef is just a shallow spot in the middle of the ocean and that venturing off in the dinghy should not be approached lightly. The following day we planned a visit to the reef after visiting our neighbors, but had to stop short after one of our oarlocks broke and a second on the same side threatened to break free without reinforcement. (Cheap fittings were all we could find in New Zealand, but they didn't even last us two months! We were hoping that they would at least last until we could return from the tropics and order better ones from the U.S.) After the other boats left, Minerva Reef was almost eerie. We were really cautious when we explored the reef; It's one thing to be out sailing in our home on the ocean but quite another adrift in a rowing dinghy.
After a few more days of fine dining (including 2 Bourbon apple pies from the pie man!) and good rest, we figured it was time to continue on to Fiji. The crowd behind us was starting to catch up.
Passage to Fiji
With four more days of sailing we could get to Savusavu in Fiji and enjoy not only a calm, restful anchorage, but also the amenities of port. The wind was fairly steady from behind us as we started out then gradually moved forward and lightened until we were beating into a light wind with mellow seas, overall a pleasant sail. But we were disappointed to be unable to reach port before dark on our fourth day, and had to loiter outside the reef again for the next 15 hours. Of course the wind came up once we didn't need to sail anywhere. So we decided to drop the jib and double reef the main for the night. As Garth was pulling in the leech of the main, the winch flew off the boom, hit him in the head, bounced on the deck (splintering the wood and leaving a noticeable gouge) then went overboard. Ouch! We're lucky to have a second boom winch, but the extra night out turned out to be costly. We did our best to rest on our alternating off watches through the night and after first light, we headed for the reef pass, making landfall in the small town of Savusavu at about 10am. We're looking forward to exploring Fiji.
Cheers, Wendy and Garth
Wendy Hinman
Garth Wilcox
Velella
Wylie 31'