Lat: 29 15.968′ S
Lon: 177 56.923′ W

The front that we were trying to weather here in Denham Bay finally arrived with lots of rain and wind. Our anchor has held well, but it’s been a long few days. Yesterday in particular was one that we won’t forget anytime soon.

My anchor watch started about 5am. After a night of intense rain, the dinghy was full of water, so after breakfast, Ash bailed it out, and I jumped in to work on the outboard engine a bit. It wasn’t running well at all and there was a leak in the fuel line on the fuel bulb output, so I drained the fuel and the seawater that had washed into the line, replaced the crimp clamp on the bulb with a good hose clamp, and started it up again. The leak was fixed and it seemed to run better, but we probably need some fresh fuel and a little work with the throttle (more to come with the outboard). This was also in preparation for taking the engine off the dinghy and stowing it so that it wouldn’t be damaged by the strong gusts of wind off of the mountains.

While back on board discussing the dinghy engine improvement, and getting ready to hoist it aboard, a particularly strong and sustained gust of wind blew over the boat and lifted the solar panels from their horizontal position, where they were attached on one side, to a vertical position and held them there. The gust must have been over 50 knots, and it held them there for a couple of seconds. I stared at them for a second or two and then jumped up to brace them before they crashed down, but it was too late and they crashed back down, splitting the frames apart at the corners. We managed to take them off during a lull in the wind and started repairs immediately in the drizzle. I have a suitable piece of right angle aluminum on board and we started hack-sawing pieces to reinforce the corners.

Hacking away

The gusts kept coming with incredible strength. The stronger ones would lift the water off of the choppy whitecaps and blow a white cloud of spray across the water and then up into the air as a cloud of mist that was often over 100 feet high. We were in the middle of solar panel repairs when another ferocious gust caught the dinghy and capsized it as it was tied behind the boat. The oars and fuel tank were floating in the chop and the outboard was nowhere to be seen. I was working in swimming trunks and a foul weather jacket, so I quickly tossed off the jacket and jumped in to grab the oars and fuel jug. With them stowed on board, we started the job of getting the dinghy flipped back upright. We could then see that the outboard was still firmly attached to the transom, but fully submerged of course. Once the dinghy was flipped back upright, we finished the job that was interrupted by the solar panel incident, hoisting the outboard onto its mount. We stowed the bimini to avoid ripping or damaging it in the gusts and then had an hour or so to work on the outboard as the sun was setting, rinsing it with fresh water, draining the water from the cylinders and generally starting the process of trying to recover it.

We were tired and a little down when we sat down for a dinner in the dark and windy evening. We’d barely started eating when an unmistakable sound started — hail. Pea sized hail was raining down on the boat as lightning flashed nearby. I pulled a jacket over my head and went out to cover the chartplotter. We could only laugh. What a day.

Damage control with a smile

Last night the wind blew strong a lot of the night, with sustained speeds as strong as the earlier gusts. We were so busy yesterday that we didn’t notice that the anchor bridle had tangled itself with the chain while the boat was moving about at anchor the night before. The movement is pretty strange. Gusts come from almost any direction, although they seem to come from a couple of dominant directions over any given period. In the calms between the gusts, the boat starts to set to the tide or current and often in a completely different direction from the wind. When the next gust comes, the boat is quickly pushed over the water until the anchor chain pulls tight against the bridle and the boat turns into the wind. I was concerned that the chain being tangled in the bridle would chafe through in the night, but we sorted it out this morning and it was in pretty good shape. We slowly drag a little with the strong, shifting winds, but not nearly enough to be concerned about in the large, empty bay.

We’d definitely rather be on our way to Fiji, but there’s also a nasty low that is going to be sitting right in our path in a few days. For now we’re trying to finish up repairs in the less rainy spells and get to the point that we’re just waiting on weather.

Lat: 29 15.591′ S
Lon: 177 57.388′ W

Every couple of days, we post a blog and get a weather update via our satellite phone. When we posted the last blog, and took a look at the weather, it didn’t look good. After 4 days of great sailing, our weather window was closing and we were due for some strong and/or contrary winds for several days. Fortunately, by making our easting near the Kermadec Islands, we had an opportunity to stop at the Kermadecs and wait for a better window to finish the passage to Fiji. We all agreed that even though the anchorages aren’t great, visiting a rare and remote location would be better than bashing to windward, so we motor-sailed to maintain our speed and get into Raoul Island before sunset.

Along the way, the weather was nice enough that we spent a lot of time on deck and were treated to a large pod of whales off to starboard as we sailed along the Kermadec Ridge. They were a bit too far off to identify the species, but their large, repeated blows stayed with us half an hour or so. We estimated that there were at least 10-20 and the occasional glimpses of their large grey bodies that we got through the binoculars were pretty impressive.

We radioed ahead to Raoul Island and they provided some advice on an anchoring location that agreed with our review of the chart — Denham Bay, a large bay with dangerous breaking surf along a mile-long beach should provide the best opportunity for protection from the north and east. As we sailed into the bay, which is the caldera of an old volcano, the water depth decreased to several hundred feet and we were joined by a pod of dolphins. They looked to be common dolphins and a couple were quite large. We were already happy to be taking a short break, but the large, playful dolphins added to the good spirits.

Approaching Raoul Island

Like many volcanic islands, Raoul Island is rugged and beautiful. Denham Bay is deceptively large. It doesn’t seem so large with the large cliffs that partially encircle it and the long, wide beach made of volcanic sand. There’s a rather large, rusted shipwreck on the beach that in context seems to be a rather small feature. We were getting ready to drop anchor in about 30 feet of water when we noticed a small figure on the beach that looked like it might be a person (or a turkey, according to Ash). A look through the binoculars confirmed that it was a person. After setting anchor, we radioed ashore and the figure on the beach answered. His name was Mike and he accepted our dinner invitation, so Ash and I readied the dinghy and paddled toward the shore to pick him up.

Even though weather was relatively calm, there was a large swell running from the ESE whose remnants wrapped around the point a bit and crashed on the beach. To avoid landing the dinghy, Mike swam out from the shore and climbed into the dinghy for the long paddle back to the boat. Lauren treated us all to delightful pasta and salad while Mike told us a bit about the island. It has a long and interesting history, but is now a nature and marine reserve with very strict rules. Without a permit, which we of course don’t have, it won’t be possible to land on the island. There are eight people on the island, four full-time staff that do a one year tour and four volunteers that are here for 6 months. Resupply by ship is typically at 6 month intervals. The work on the island is pretty varied. There is a weather station on the base where daily weather balloons have been launched since 1940, and much of the work now relates to freeing the island of non-native weeds (including rappelling down cliffs to pull out non-native vines). The island is still an active volcano which is carefully monitored after an unexpected death in the caldera in 2006. In general, it sounds like the accommodations and supplies are pretty good, but it is a bit of a solitary outpost. It is a pretty impressive and professional operation given the small staff size.

Getting to know Mike from the DOC

We thoroughly enjoyed our visit with Mike and wish him the best during the rest of his stay on the island. This morning we picked him up from the beach again to sign the guestbook and he brought us a nice gift of citrus fruit (saved from scurvy for another week).

Thanks to Tim as well for helping us out with the chartplotter problem. He contacted Raymarine and e-mailed us a fix that worked, so we’re pretty much all sorted except for the engine starting batteries, which will need to be replaced in Fiji.

The wind off the cliffs is strong here, so we’ll most likely be on anchor watch some nights until the weather is good for leaving. The water is really warm and clear, so we’re hoping for a swim during our stay. We do have to be a bit careful, as the island is well-known for having a lot of sharks and a couple were swimming under the boat within minutes of anchoring. Most are a bit curious but harmless and the guys here surf with them in plain sight under and around their boards.

Lat: 31 03.996′ S

Lon: 179 12.515′ W

After a rough start, we are all finally getting our groove back along with our sense of humor. Apparently this is quite a relief to Ash, who doesn’t get seasick, has heaps of energy, and hasn’t had anyone to properly harass for a few days. Here is his very funny account of what it’s like to be on board with a crew of zombies:

“Day four comes to a close, my companions have taken a more life like form giving new life to the conversation ecosystem. Being the only functional person on board amongst the three bile throwing zombies has allowed me to witness the social structure and order of the zombie kind. One zombie who goes by the title Shiroma seems to be the princess and the taller blonde ones seem to be king and queen spending most of thier day bringing offerings to the princess who refuses them the gratification of satisfying her. Upon engaging in communication with the zombies I learn that less is more, no suggestion is a good one and that the sickness has no impact on the motor controls of the middle finger. The zombies in all there misery find solace in what they call thier best friend a small standard household issue green bucket. I attempted to communicate in the same dialect as they did with the bucket but found my self developing no bond at all with the bucket. However the king and queen seem to have healed from the sickness yet seem slightly fatigued and the princess has become increasingly aggressive yet physically disabled allowing more time to think of avoidance stratergies upon the return of her legs. Thus far peace talks bribery and negotiations have failed but I am yet to give up and tomorrow is another day. ”

Shiroma and her green friend

 

There’s a lot of truth in what he says, especially our concern for Shiroma. She couldn’t keep anything down for three days and didn’t move from her spot on the salon settee except for those brief occasions that she would try to go below to change clothes, brush teeth, etc., always with the green bucket in tow, and always returning very quickly to puke. She and Dallas discussed what to eat based on what tastes best on its way up (FYI: banana is the best). Today we have had much calmer seas, and Shiroma was able to eat an entire mini-meal and is presently sitting outside on the trampoline–very good signs for everyone but Ash, who may end up overboard if he carries on!

Mr. Functional

With disturbed seas and just three of us doing night watches, it has been tough to get quality sleep, but it’s great to finally be feeling alive again and able to do something besides lay around. Ash and I peeled feijoas for jam and muffins yesterday and scrubbed down the deck today. Dallas climbed in the engine room to fix a ground wire for the tachometer and sorted out a roller furling problem.

Meanwhile, Pura Vida keeps plugging along at an average speed of 5 knots with plenty of southeasterly wind (usually 15-25 knots). We are nearing the Kermadecs where there is a marine reserve and an opportunity to anchor for a night if the conditions are right. We saw a pod of humpback whales sounding from a distance today and would love to see more. Apparently there are a lot of sharks at the Kermadecs, too…

Whale watching

Lat: 34 16.95 S

Lon: 178 57.20 E

We’ll, the winds and seas haven’t been too bad, but the crew is still a little the worse for wear. Ash is the only one who hasn’t been seasick, but he bloodied up a couple of knuckles when a winch handle slipped off a winch. Lauren’s only puked once, and is doing resonably well. Shiroma is keeping water down, but that’s about it. I’m in the middle somewhere. Hoefully tomorrow will be better.

We’re also dealing with a few boat issues that are partly due to being in a hurry to leave and partly just the standard stuff — the charplotter is on the fritz (new problem), a hastily repaired engine ground wire has apparently come loose again, the engine starting batteries seem to be next to worthless, and the fresh water pump still isn’t sorted.

Other than that, things are great. We really can’t complain about the wind or seas, we’re just getting accustomed to it all again. We’re average right around 5 knots, which is our planning number. That gets us to Fiji in 10-11 days. We’re planning to make our first stop in Suva.

We did have one bright spot. The SSB radio installation seems to work. I finished up the antenna installation the morning we left, and a couple of hours after leaving Tauranga, I was able to tune into a “sked” — one of the party-call type of check in affairs. I was able to hear boats hundreds of miles away checking in with radio stations in New Zealand and when they were finished I tried calling for a radio check. NZ Far North Radio reported hearing me as 3 over 5 (I need to look that one up) and we had a short conversation. It’s nice to know that it’s working an we have an extra means of long-distance communication if needed.

Pura Vida is ready to sail

 

On Wednesday Shiroma came on board, and she has been even more delightful to have around than I expected. Not only is she reflective, insightful, and positive, but she also loves to cook and is great at it! She has already treated us to some really nice dishes such as pasta with blue cheese/white wine/spinach sauce and yummy crepes.

Friends came over to say good bye on Thursday night and brought along heaps of feijoas for us to take with us. If you are wondering what the heck that is, it’s a fruit that is like a small pear but a little softer and more tart. Initially I was the only one eating them, and Shiroma thought they tasted like shampoo, but now that they are a little more ripe, everyone is getting into them.

A mini feijoa

We were planning to use the southwesterly winds predicted for Saturday to sail up to Whangerei to pick up Ash, our fourth and final crew member, but those plans changed. It looked like the westerly winds predicted for today (Monday) would provide a nice trajectory for us to leave from here. It also gave us a little more time to get our act together, which we needed! Anyway, Ash showed up today and is tired from saying his good byes but ready to go. We all are!!

Pura Vida Crew

This morning there was virtually no wind and a sky full of clouds, but the sky has cleared and the predicted winds have arrived. Customs came and went without any drama, we got our super cheap booze from the duty-free providores, and we are just having a bite to eat (thanks to Shiroma) before heading out. We are hoping to be in Fiji in 10-12 days but will keep you posted…