Laying on the hard in Raiatea, One Fine Day needed a few days of wake-up-and-make-ready-for-cruising work, so Greg and Ed headed over a week early to get her splashed. Hot work in the yard ensued. Bora Bora can be seen in the distance from there, but sadly there would be no visiting that island. Places to go and a schedule to keep! Imported goods brought to the boat included the usual assortment of small boat parts, a new mainsail, and a nasty and contagious cold (slyly transmitted into Ed by the dry airline cabin air). Coughing, snorting and wheezing would thus blight our entire voyage.
Gord, Ed and Greg: grey haired all, but young enough to get it done
The first stage of the trip was 120nm to Papeete, Tahiti,
where Gord would fly in to join us. Greg and
Ed splashed the boat in Raiatea and sailed this overnighter alone. It blew right at our nose, but we were lucky,
and it did not blow hard.
Our track, more or less.
Pearl Farm Tour, Fakarava
Swish resort at the pearl farm
Hanging around at Fakarava
Waiting for a dive that would never happen, South Fakarava
Leaving Fakarava by the south pass (striking out for a third day on a sharks feeding on spawning Groupers dive) we passed by a lovely but wrecked sailboat that had grounded only four days previously. We never learned how exactly the accident had occurred, only that they had somehow crashed and holed their hull while attempting to transit the channel in rough weather.
The sad end of a cruising dream for the owners of this boat
Underway eastbound, Sunrise
Ed pointing out that the sculptures and carvings in the Marquesas are all anatomically correct.
Nuka Hiva anchorage walk
The laundry washing machine at work
A nicer day at the hill above the anchorage
A hike to the far point of the anchorage under cloudy skies
We rent a car and take an island drive on the steep mountain roads. It rains all day.
Mystical Polynesian ruins
No idea what this symbolizes. Long pig in a pot?
A wet Polynesian rock-frog
An intrepid sailor at a bay on the Northwest side of the island.
The next step was the big one: 2,100 miles straight shot to
Oahu. Complicating our route planning
was a monsoon trough in the eastern pacific near Mexico that threatened an
unusually high probability of cyclonic formation. Conditions such as those produce hurricanes that
can track out towards Hawaii and directly across our path. No one with any brains sails into a known
hurricane, so we were watching our weather with considerable interest. Luckily at home we had Alice, our “eyes in
the sky” who could bird-dog our weather and steer us away from any developing
trouble. This was especially helpful
because by the day of our departure, tropical storm Barbara had formed and was
projected to cross our path as a category 3 hurricane.
Provisions for the big passage. Baguettes are cheap and good eating.
Getting good weather information while at sea can be difficult and expensive. Downloading weather imagery via the satphone Greg brought along is time-consuming and happens at very slow baud rates. Weather models and images can cost $30-40 each, so having a knowledgeable someone at home with access to high speed internet is a huge help. Using In-Reach (a satellite messaging service that Ed uses) Alice could send us unlimited 160-character text messages, describing the weather, advising us with computer track optimization simulations and answering our various and sundry weather questions.
Not much drinking while underway, but an occasional cold beer!
141-57 and we are "slimy pollywogs" no more. Suggested hazing rituals are all declined by the crew.
While it sounds scary, as a
weather threat, hurricane Barbara soon proved to be a non-issue for us. She would pass well to the north of us as a cat
3 hurricane before dissipating to a tropical depression and reaching Hawaii 3
days before our arrival. What she did provide
was more cloudy skies, combined with an unusual weak pressure gradient zone that
extended far south of her track. This area above the equator is where the ITCZ usually
sits (often called the doldrums).
Sailors hate weak tropical winds and now instead of a couple of days
crossing a band of no wind, we had a super-sized share of light following
breezes to contend with. This system of light airs was pulled along below Barbara and tracked right along with us as we traveled. Ugh, 4 days of slow motor-sailing! Worse, tropical squalls simply love to form
in warm air light wind conditions. Squalls mean constant sail and course
adjustments. Thunderstorms also very much like such conditions. Boom, flash, bang! Hmmm, that one was kinda close… Our answer to
the war-time bombing was the only thing it can ever be: “missed us again,
Motherfucker.”
No pics of lightning. We only take pictures when the weather is good, doncha know...
Finally, at 12N we reached trade
winds. One Fine Day is no race boat, but
when the wind blows abaft of the beam she moves along like a big old
freight-train running the rails. We were trying hard to break a noon-fix-noon-fix
200nm run, but a vexatious tide repeatedly curdled our efforts and we maxed at
188nm. Oh well, not bad for a heavy
displacement full-keeled boat!
Trade wind sailing at last
We had planned to jump overboard and swim across the equator, but our crossing happened at 0200H and sending crew overboard for a swim would have required dousing sails and shining bright flashlights on the swimmer. Having previously noted how attracted large fish are to bright lights at night we all thought better of the idea and took a picture of the instruments instead. Gord and Greg thus both broke their sailing across the equator virginity. Total passage from the Marquesas to Oahu was 2,100nm great circle; ~2,250nm as sailed. Time elapsed was 14d6h - right on target. Slap, slap: one and done. Time for a decent hamburger and some golf.
Hey, that looks like Honolulu
