slapdash

friday november 7^th 2008 (neiafu, kingdom of tonga)

We’ve spent the last week exploring some of the nearby anchorages and caves. We paid a visit to Swallows cave, which was almost (but not quite) big enough for us to take the Slapdash right inside. We also visited Mariners cave that day. We invited crews from a couple of other boats in the anchorage with us for the trip so there were 5 of us aboard. This cave is tough to find because the entrance is submerged under 8 feet of water even at low tide. After you dive down and duck through the entrance and swim 20 feet or so you resurface inside the cave. Even though you are completely sealed off from outside it’s not pitch black inside as you might expect. Some light is refracted up through the underwater entrance which causes the place to shimmer in a bluish green glow. Adding to the dream-like special effects is a mysterious fog that appears and disappears regularly leaving you rubbing your eyes wondering if it just happened or if you had imagined it. When the surge flows through the underwater entrance it raises the water level inside the cave and compresses the air trapped inside. This sudden change in ambient pressure makes your ears pop and creates the mysterious fog which then disappears just as abruptly when the water level recedes a few seconds later.

Vava’u really is a cruisers dream with dozens of beautiful sheltered anchorages all within a few miles of each other. It’s getting a little late in the season now so the majority of the boats have moved south already. We are back in Neiafu. There was still more to see but we ran out of food, water, diesel, and gasoline so had no choice but to come back and stock up on some necessities.

We’ve also been trying to track down a couple of packages that were forwarded to us here, so far without any luck. One of them was last spotted in Vanauatu about a thousand miles from here so we’ve given up on that one for now and will try again in New Zealand. The other one has been sighted somewhere in Tonga so we still have some hope it. It’s from our friends Charles and Giselle. They sent us a beautiful camera with all the fixings, so if you like seeing photos on the site you will have them to thank. Our crappy backup camera bit the dust long ago, so the only pictures we have now are the ones that we can copy from other people.

Our efforts to track down these packages have left us on first name basis with various Tongans from customs, the post office, the phone lady, the local airline rep and the courier, although I use the term ‘courier’ loosely in this case. The local DHL rep is a cab driver named Mapa who is totally put out every time you ask him something about DHL so we’ve started dealing directly with their office in Nuku’alofa. Customs is located in a warehouse nearby. Their system for locating a package sent here involves idly scanning a few scrap pieces of paper which can usually be found on, in, near (or in one case underneath) one of three old fashioned steel desks. After a cursory glance at the first page they tell you that its not here and to go call Mapa. If you hold your ground they might humor you by giving a similar cursory glance at the second page before telling you to go see Mapa. Only the truly determined will force a cursory glance at the third page, an exercise in futility anyway since it only generates the same response… go see Mapa.

Yesterday we got past the third stage when one of the agents told us to just go look through the contents of the warehouse ourselves. It’s not possible to overstate the complete lack of organization. For the next 30 minutes we crawled over, around and through piles of boxes, crates, palates, and packages which looked as though they just fell from the sky and remained exactly where they landed; sideways, upside down, piled 6 high, half crushed and sometimes leaking. There were others there on similar missions. We must have resembled the extras in a war movie who morosely sift through smoldering rubble in the background of the shot. About a half dozen of us were slowly making our way through the wreckage checking labels and shaking boxes. After getting lost in a crate jungle and nearly being run down by a forklift we called off the search and abandoned all hope. One thing is clear; our only chance of retrieving this camera will be to intercept it before it makes it to this crazy customs building. Accordingly we’ve developed an elaborate plan, my background came in handy for once, our stratagem centers around an inside man working for the local airline.

That doesn’t account for our entire week, we’ve also checked out the usual cultural events and happy hours. You will have to use your imagination to fill in the details because frankly its just way to hot to spend much time in front of the laptop fighting typically terrible Pacific island internet connections. Once we’ve sprung the camera from the grip of Tongan official-dumb we will pack up, pull up and head south to the next cluster of Tongan islands, the Ha’apai group.

thursday november 13^th 2008 (maninita, kingdom of tonga)

Success! The plan went off without a hitch and we managed to intercept the package before it was transferred to the customs warehouse of eternal doom. We now have in our possession what may be the sexiest damned little camera in existence. In this case fashion and function walk hand in hand. Like Uma in Kill Bill our little Olympus is as tough as it is good looking. Small enough to fit into one of Jaime’s pockets, waterproof to 30 feet and tough enough to have 90 kilos of weight dropped on it. Theoretically it may have even survived a stay at the Neiafu customs building but we’re happy not to have put it through that kind of abuse.

Today we slipped through a small pass and are now wedged between several reefs in a clearing just large enough to accommodate only one boat. I wish we could lay claim to the discovery but we came here using reliable information and gps waypoints. The guy who discovered this place must have had some balls. As you approach the swells seem to break from every direction and you have to go right into the middle of them. Only at the last minute does the small pass become visible. It was kind of like taking a deep breath and diving through a hole that you think leads to Mariners Cave, and your next breath of air (if you got the directions right). You just have to trust your information and go for it. We did and as promised have been rewarded with a completely secluded and beautiful sheltered anchorage next to an uninhabited island fringed with fine white crushed coral beaches. Anchoring was a little tricky because of the limited swinging room between the reefs, but well worth the tinkering. It’s our favorite anchorage in Tonga (so far) and possibly the whole trip. If you want to check out google earth to see exactly where we are sitting right now our GPS reads; 18’51.401 degrees South and 173’59.865 degrees West.

We took care of a lot of terrible chores and routine tasks before leaving Neiafu which were made more of a burden than usual by the appalling heat. I ran the full gauntlet of regular scheduled engine and boat maintenance while Jaime sweat it out in the laundromat and visited the bakery the market and several small shops to procure our necessary food stuffs. We watered up, dieseled up, and made the obligatory visits to customs, immigration, and the port authority. I even scraped and scrubbed the ecosystem off of our hulls for the first time since Bora Bora.

We took our fair share of lumps getting ready to leave but the last few days have been like a vacation for us. For those of you who don’t own a boat but like to travel to exotic locations and charter one (yes you Steve), there’s a Moorings fleet in Neiafu and you couldn’t do much better than the Vavau group here in Tonga. You could spend months sailing here without spending two nights in the same anchorage. Just check pull out a chart or an atlas and you will see what I mean. There are 171 islands here and less than a quarter of them are inhabited. The water has been clear and between 84 and 86 degrees, the beaches are white, there are cliffs and caves, whales and tons of fish. It’s hard to resist checking out the next anchorage because you are usually so close that you can almost see it. Islands decorate the horizon and save the couple of passages between island groups you wouldn’t even have to leave the sight of land if you didn’t want to. For the past week we’ve been in a completely new anchorage every night and haven’t had to travel more than 12 miles in a day. We’re pretty happy with the place as you can tell, but enough of the infomercial for now.

friday november 14^th 2008 (maninita, kingdom of tonga)

We have been planning to hop south to the next collection of islands in the Kingdom, the Ha’apai group. It’s only 60 miles from here but since the winds are light and the moon is full we’ve decided to enjoy this anchorage for one more day and leave late this afternoon. We’ll use the late afternoon light to sail safely through the reefs and into the open ocean before dark and then enjoy an easy night with a full moon arriving in Ha’apai sometime in the morning.

Last night we had some birds flying around above the boat. Not an unusual occurrence, except that Jaime kept trying to convince me that these particular birds were actually bats. I tried to make her feel better with unfounded assurances that there are no bats in the world that big. She wasn’t buying my story and the more I looked at these bat-birds the more bat-like they started to become, but I was still pretty certain that they don’t make bats in that size. I went inside to plan out our passage to Ha’apai and Jaime stayed outside squinting at the sky hard enough to turn birds into bats. A few minutes later as I flipped through one of the guides, right there on a page titled; “Nature – Highlights”, I came across a picture of a giant bat. Oh sure, they try to make them sound all cute and cuddly by calling them flying foxes, but Jaime was right. There are giant bats outside circling the boat right now. I gave her the news and her reaction was mixed, partly smug because she was right about the bats and partly panicked as she bowled me over seeking cover from the flying rodents.

We explored our little private island today. The trees and vegetation look totally impenetrable from the boat but once you are on the beach you can see that all the underbrush has been cleared away which made it easy to get around. The large trees that cover the island create this thick canopy which even at mid day won’t allow any light through. There must not be any predators because the island is completely overrun with birds. There are thousands of them chirping, cawing, coo’ing and shitting. They lay their eggs and leave them on the branches and ground totally exposed. The birds didn’t bother us but they weren’t very shy either. They sort of just swooped around like we weren’t even there. Walking through this dark forest being cackled at by thousands of indifferent birds started to get a little creepy so we decided to take the beach back around. It took a minute for our eyes to adjust. Emerging from the dark forest straight onto a white sand beach in brilliant afternoon sun provided quite the contrast.

We swam back and discovered that 17 squids were just hanging out in the shade beneath our boat. Apart from all the nasty squids that continually hurled themselves onto the deck of our boat during our Pacific passage, we’ve only actually seen one or two of them in the wild. It was pretty remarkable to have all these guys just relaxing there as indifferent to us as the birds were. They didn’t even mind it when Jaime swam right up close to take some pictures. While the squid were hamming it up I noticed a giant clam shell beneath the boat and dove down for it. I was barely able to drag the thing up to the surface; it weighed 10 pounds and was by far the biggest clam shell we’ve ever seen. As you can see we are loving this waterproof camera. Thanks Charles!

After the bats, birds, and squids we’d had enough of the wild kingdom for one day and started making preparation to leave. By 4PM we had safely navigated our way through the windy little pass and were on our way South once again.

sunday november 16^th 2008 (pangai, kingdom of tonga)

After an uneventful overnight sail we arrived in Pangai early Saturday morning. After a swim we made our way to shore and found a place to get a cold Ikale and spent the rest of the day exploring the little village. It’s strange to think that it was right here in the Ha’apai group (Tofua) in 1789 where Bligh and the Bounty succumbed to Fletcher and his mutineers. They landed their little boat on Tofua where the locals made a bad day even worse for Bligh and the 18 crew members that were set adrift with him. Bligh and the 17 crew that survived the encounter decided not to call on any more islands after that which set their epic 3500 mile trip to Timor in motion.

We are the only boat here. In fact we haven’t seen another boat since we left Neiafu. The customs guy in Pangai seemed surprised to see us and asked if we knew that it was cyclone season. Almost on cue the weather began to deteriorate. Now we are holed up on the boat waiting out what appears to be a pretty nasty low pressure system.

The weather won’t improve for a few days. All of the shallow water and uncharted reefs that made Ha’apai so enticing to us in the first place are now preventing us from exploring the islands. You can’t rely on the charts here and need excellent visibility to safely navigate around the dangerous shoals. If it was any earlier in the season we would just wait out the front and carry on when the skies cleared up, but we are starting to feel like we’re pushing our luck a little bit.

monday november 17^th 2008 (pangai, kingdom of tonga)

We went to shore today and picked up a forecast. As expected this weather has set in and won’t clear up until Thursday. It’s tough to turn your back on a beautiful place that you may never see again, even more so when you are looking at an open ocean passage in conditions that are less than desirable. There are two tropical storms in the Pacific being monitored right now though. They’re nowhere near us, but their presence served to reinforce a reluctant decision to skip our plans to explore the Ha’apai group and head straight down to Nuku’alofa from here.

Nuku’alofa is the capital of the Kingdom. It will serve as our staging ground and departure point for the big passage to New Zealand so the sooner we get there the sooner we can be ready to head south and out of the cyclone belt when weather permits.

wednesday november 19^th 2008 (pangaimotu, kingdom of tonga)

The passage from Ha’apai to Nuku’alofa was about 100 miles and as expected we had a boisterous sail. We left Pangai at 4PM and were out through the pass into deep water before the sun set. It was an incredibly dark night, the thick cloud cover made it impossible to see anything at all. The only light outside was from the phosphorescence stirred up by our wake, but we were flying along at 8 knots on a comfortable beam reach with the swells behind us. Then at midnight things got interesting.

All at once the boom crashed back and the headsail started flapping furiously. The wind had instantly shifted 90 degrees as a front slammed into us. It was now right on our nose. At the same moment we found ourselves completely engulfed by a torrential downpour, which gave us an amazing show. The big fat wind driven raindrops pelted the sea around us and lit up sheets of phosphorescence and made a totally surreal light show. After a split second pause to gape at the astonishing spectacle it was back to full panic mode. We furled up the headsail which was difficult because it was so dark that you couldn’t even see it. At the same time we sheeted in the mainsail and got it back under control. For the shock and noise of the whole thing the wind wasn’t actually that bad. It was blowing 27 knots, brisk but by no means dangerous. What was surprising was how quickly that the winds abrupt change in direction affected the seas. The swells that were so comfortably rolling along behind us were now trying to make headway against the same wind that we were. This discord immediately caused the gentle rollers to straighten up into steep confused frothy seas. Now we were soaked to the bone as the boat pitched and bucked. Our speed was reduced from 8 knots to an agonizingly slow 2 knots. The cacophony of wind, thunder and steep waves crashing against the hull was deafening. Periods of the pitch black night were now being broken up by blinding slashes of lightning. Scary shit.

5 minutes before we had been settled into a nice night, wrapped up in blankets snoozing between watch cycles just waiting out the night. I swear the sea is like a charming bi-polar psychopath with a bouquet in one hand and a loaded handgun in the other.

This nasty business kept me up and in the cockpit for the next few hours before things started to settle down. The wind was still on our nose but conditions had moderated. The moon must have risen somewhere on the other side of the thick cloud cover because we were finally able to make out the horizon. By daybreak we were within 20 miles of Nuku’alofa, and a few hours after that we were anchored here beside a little island called Pangaimotu. It’s only a mile away from the main town, but it has a nice beach, and clean water to swim in. Most importantly there’s a little beach bar called Big Mama’s where you can sit by the water, dig your toes into the sand and eat really great fish and chips; all qualities that made us choose this place to relax and recover from the passage before we head into the busy harbor to mix it up in hot Nuku’Alofa.

thursday november 20^th 2008 (nuku’alofa, kingdom of tonga)

We moved over to the Nuku’Alofa harbor this morning. A couple of weeks ago there were over a hundred boats here, right now the harbor is pretty empty. We are one of three boats left here. We have a big day ahead of us. We still have to officially clear in so that we can clear out. An annoying way to spend time but it’s necessary to have things in order for the New Zealand officials when we arrive. We’re beginning to second guess our plan to stop at the Minerva reefs on the way down. People have been filling our heads with all kinds of horror stories about this passage. Like Public Enemy we don’t believe the hype and frankly find the amount of time most boats are putting into analyzing and discussing every imaginable piece of weather information is getting kind of nauseating. How can you pretend to know what the weather is going to be doing 1000 miles away 10 days from now? We aren’t really into pushing our luck too much but are sure that the weather during our passage will look a lot like the weather everyone else gets, a mixed bag. Some calms, a front or two, headwinds and if we're lucky some decent sailing days. We’ll steer a course to pass near the reefs and play it by ear. If conditions are favorable we’ll stop by for a visit, if not we’ll just keep on truckin’. The passage should take about 12 days without a stop at Minerva, a couple of days longer of we do. If everything works out here today we’ll leave sometime tomorrow which will put us in Opua –our chosen port of entry in New Zealand- sometime during the first week of December. The authorities there ask you to advise them of your departure time and estimated time of arrival. If you no-show on them they send out search and rescue. Not sure how we feel about that but I guess it’s kind of comforting to know that somebody’s expecting us.

Nuku’Alofa is a cool place. We haven’t exactly had the chance to dig in and explore, but we’ve been running around town getting all the usual things ready for the passage and have caught a pretty good vibe. We wish we had more time, but the weather is good now and we don’t want to spend any more time acting like cyclone bait. Maybe we’ll get a chance to swing by on our way back up next season.

sunday november 23^rd 2008 (new zealand passage - day one)

On Friday we moved out of the harbor to spend our last night in Tonga anchored beside Pangaimotu. After all the running around which included at least a half dozen visits to various officials we thought it would be nice to chill out for a bit to get ourselves rested up for the long passage. We’ve finally got our route to New Zealand planned out and plotted so now know the total distance to be 1073 nautical miles, or about 2000 kilometers. It’s only a third of the distance of our longest passage from the Galapagos to the Marquesas, but if half of what we’ve heard about the weather is true we can expect it to be a little more challenging.

On Saturday morning we went over to Big Mamas to pay off the tab we racked up over the past week and have one last meal. We also flipped the dinghy over on the beach and scrubbed off all the algae that had accumulated on the bottom over the past several months. We decided to secure it on deck for this passage to save the wear and tear on the davits in case things get rough. We’ve broken them once on passage already and the resulting rodeo trying to secure them and get the dinghy on deck in mid ocean is not one that we really want to repeat. Now we can brink the dink aboard without getting green slime all over the boat.

By 4PM we were finally off and running. Actually to be nautically correct, I guess we were off and reaching. A beam reach to be precise. 20 knots of wind sent us rocketing out of Nuku’Alofa’s Egeria channel with a sustained speed of 10 knots. Once we were outside of the island group and in the full ocean swell a reef in the main slowed us down a bit and made things feel a little more controlled.

We made good progress for our first day out. The seas are rough and Jaime is horizontal and sick, but as long as we don’t break anything we’ve agreed that the discomfort is a fair trade for the progress. We both want to get the passage over with and the 164 miles we logged today is a pretty good start.

monday november 24^th 2008 (new zealand passage - day two)

Yesterday we put the final nail in the Minerva Reefs coffin. We were still tempted by an opportunity to stop since we passed within 30 miles of them but the wind was too good to pull over and stop. After only 48 hours out our sentence has been reduced to 740 miles. The conditions are still rough but we’re grateful for the steady wind and solid progress.

We’ve taken water over the stern for the first time. Watching the first of three big waves crash into our davits made me appreciate the extra time we put into securing the dinghy on deck. I hate to think what would have happened if it had still been hanging there. Our starboard hull has been spending a lot of time buried in the sea as the swells push their way past. It’s my impression that in some way this must account for the water we’re taking on. I think it’s finding a way in through one of the deck fittings on the starboard side. So far it’s easy to cope with, a few minutes with the bilge pump seems to do the trick but here on the Slapdash keeping the ocean outside of the boat is a top priority. We’ll be keeping a close eye on that one.

Jaime is still horizontal but as always she stoically takes her turn on watch. Today she’s able to read a little bit so is showing some progress. We’ve been eating incredibly well on this passage. Cooking is out of the question for Jaime so during passages we are subjected to my cooking. She must have been getting sick of the many wonderful meals I can whip up using various combinations and quantities of wieners, noodles, cheese and chili in because on this trip we have a fridge and freezer piled high with prepared meals. Jaime spent almost an entire day making up a weeks worth of meals in advance. All I have to do is heat them up and so far I’ve been able to console my wounded pride with a nice curry, a greek salad and today for lunch? Pad Thai.

This just in… We’ve officially crossed the Tropic of Capricorn and so begins our first day outside of the tropics in nearly a year. The daytime temperature is in fact several degrees cooler already, and a quick check on our instruments has revealed that water temperature has dropped from the 87 degrees we got used to in Tonga to a chilly 68.

tuesday november 25^th 2008 (new zealand passage - day three)

Eat, sleep, read. Eat, sleep, change a light bulb. Eat, sleep, adjust a sail. Another exciting passage. The wind is right behind us now. We don’t have an effective way of catching the wind when it’s behind us so we’ve covered 120 miles today.

It’s noticeably cooler outside now, but at least our arrival in the southern hemisphere coincides with the beginning of their summer. I don’t expect we’ll get much sympathy from friends and family back home who are on the doorstep of another cold Canadian December. The days are getting longer, another sign that we’re making our way deeper into the southern hemisphere. The sun didn’t set until 7:30PM today, already an hour later than when we left the tropics.

friday november 28^th 2008 (new zealand passage - day five)

The past three days fit into an elite category. They have undoubtedly been among the worst we’ve spent on the boat. But nobody got hurt and we didn’t break anything that we couldn’t fix. Without any permanent reminders like scars or broken masts, the terror is already starting to fade. In our sleep deprived state we occasionally catch each others vacant stare and wonder of any of it happened at all. Some parts seemed so absurd that we must have just hallucinated them.

On Tuesday night the rain came. Periods of unsettled weather like gusty winds, squalls and rain are all signs of an approaching cold front so we knew what would eventually be in store for us. The rain continued to expose a few of the odd jobs that were put off for New Zealand, and soon we were mopping up the leaks again. We were damp but not out, for most of the next day we addressed our leaks with towels, and the erratic winds with frequent sail changes.

On Wednesday afternoon our inevitable cold front made a flamboyant appearance with a black cloaked horizon and a menacing lightening show in its entourage. We were already braced for the worst. The boat was secure, two reefs in the main and we dined on spaghetti bolognese, which we darkly referred to as our last supper.

A couple hours later we had sustained winds of 35 knots, gusts to 40. We were surfing down big frothy white rollers and marveling at our speed of 10 knots despite the fact that we had reduced our sail area to the size of a large hanky. The wind was powerful enough to have the waves all orderly and marching along in the same direction, so we followed suit. Running along with the wind and waves made the conditions tolerable. It reduced the apparent wind speed and catching the waves from behind was exhilarating not scary. According to Jaime the only really scary sight was me in my speedos being backlit by lightening flashes while tending to the sails up on deck. Going up on deck in those conditions has the same effect as jumping off the back deck, you get soaked. Thus the outdoor speedo wear.

By morning we had weathered the worst of it, or so we thought. What really got to us was the next two days of left-over sloppy crap that the front left in its wake. The front was wet, cold and had the highest sustained winds that we’ve sailed in but we kind of expected all that and it was over pretty quickly. Enduring the bone jarring and tooth rattling left-over seas was another matter all together. There’s nothing you can do but hold onto your kidneys and wait it out. Kind of like being stuck on some diabolical amusement park ride that didn’t stop for 72 hours straight.

At some point during our amusement park ride from hell all the lights went out, and the instruments, and the autopilot. The bashing and crashing had shaken a fuse loose which cut the boat systems off from all power. We didn’t know that at the time though, we were busy out in the cold rain trying to recover control of the boat. This may sound simple, and in ordinary conditions it probably would be. Despite frequently blinding each other with well meaning but misplaced flashlight beams we did eventually recover. At this point Jaime took the helm and I took the flashlight to track down our problem. The troublesome fuse was singled out and wiggled back into position. Job satisfaction came in the form of instant light, and a reassuring whir of instruments coming back on-line. This little problem would happen again from time to time until the seas settled back down, but subsequent occurrences were handled much more expeditiously and weren’t quite the riot-at-the-Mexican-flashlight-convention that the first time was.

We took the sails down because what little wind we had seemed to come from 3 directions at once. Then a funny thing happened; rolling with the wave punches, addressing power outages and even taking the occasional cat nap we began to get into a bit of a rhythm. In retrospect we should have recognized this as a cue for something else to go wrong, and at exactly 5 minutes past midnight something did. Our engine puttered to a full stop. Assuming we had run out of fuel I switched over to the other tank and restarted the engine… success. I was thinking to myself that it seemed a little early for that tank to have run dry when the engine died again… failure. This was not going to be as simple as an empty tank.

The scene: Jaime and Seth slipping, tripping and cursing their way through the next 4 and a half hours outside and up to their elbows in diesel and grease. Tools rolling around throughout the cockpit while manuals and rags are blown all over the place.

Eventually I removed something that resembled an oil soaked hairball from our fuel intake. So the oversimplified version is that a clogged fuel line and three filter changes later we managed to get Beaker up and running. It was an uplifting moment and we celebrated by trying to rebuild the boat which now looked like a bomb had gone off.

We collapsed onto the couch just as the sky was turning from dark into pre-dawn grey. We were wrapped up in every blanket and towel in the boat in the hopes that feeling would return to our numbed fingers and toes. Motor humming and back on track the nightmare was seemingly over. Laying on my back I even managed to crack a smile at the absurdity of it all. I closed my eyes relishing the thought of a couple hours of sleep which was the precise moment that approximately 5 gallons of icy fresh sweater found its way through the hatch above my head and deposited itself with a big splash directly onto my formerly grinning face.

A couple of things went through my mind that night. I would have sold the boat for a dollar but there were no buyers around. At the time sinking it would have brought a few moments of satisfaction but given our location this would have only lead to an even worse predicament. Out of options, we carried on.

Later that day Jaime was probably wondering why I was up on deck screaming for pliers, a screwdriver and a cotter pin. I had been checking things out to see how the boat was holding up through all the action when I noticed that the pin for our baby-stay (it helps keep the mast upright) had slipped out. Tension on the line was the only thing holding it momentarily in place. Jaime steered the boat down wind to slacken the pressure on the line which enabled me to work the pin back in place and eventually secure it with the cotter pin. With this crisis of the moment averted we reluctantly pointed slapdash back into the wind and waves to resume our self inflicted beating.

saturday november 29^th 2008 (new zealand passage - day six)

It’s freezing. We’re wearing clothing that I didn’t even know that we had. Toques and glove weather folks. We’ve even resorted to using towels as extra insulation to get through the cold nights and must look like extras from Fargo or something.

Today we were snapped from our routine by the site of a big green aircraft behind our boat. We were being buzzed by the New Zealand Air Force. A big twin engine DC something-or-other made a very low pass behind the boat. They were actually close enough to read our decals. We know this because a minute later they were hailing us by name on the VHF.

“Sailing vessel Slapdash, Sailing vessel Slapdash. This is the New Zealand Air Force. Please respond on VHF channel 16.”

We considered just switching it off and making a run for it, but at 4 knots we wouldn’t have been a very challenging quarry for the military aircraft circling above. Besides, I haven’t touched the EPIRB since the little “incident” back in Florida so I was pretty sure we were in the clear.

Jaime took the mic and reported in. They wanted to know our port of call, and ETA. Probably just need to know when to cue the trumpets and marching band for our arrival.

sunday november 30^th 2008 (new zealand passage - day seven)

As expected we’ve seen a bit of everything on this passage. The last couple of days have been painfully slow. We made excellent time for the first 5 days averaging 145 miles a day, but once we were inside 200 miles of our destination it’s been nothing but headwinds or no-winds. Yesterday we racked up a pitiful 72 miles and today won’t be much better. We’re so close we can smell New Zealand though, and unless this passage has any more tricks up its sleeve we’ll be in Opua in time for lunch tomorrow.