Archive | Journal RSS feed for this section

November 2016

I was jogging north, while enjoying the waves lapping at the edges of Brisbane’s Moreton Bay, when my music was interrupted by a phone call from a Swedish sailing friend. He needed help. Thankfully, sailors’ favors usually involve low level advice, not organ transplants. He needed crew for the six hundred nautical mile trip from Brisbane to Sydney. I was just about to do that same passage on Two Fish. We both had thought our yacht shippers were leaving from Brisbane, only to have the departure city changed to Sydney. I agreed to help my friend, so in a short period of time, I would travel the Eastern Coast of Australia on Two Fish and repeat the passage on my friend’s fifty-two foot Baltic.

In late October 2016, we finally left the RQYS dock for our trip to Sydney. Two Fish was clearly smiling as she had had a post-Pacific refit. Some new running rigging, a professional rig tune, sail maker attention to the suite of canvas, new flat screen autopilot, new engine exhaust elbows, new covering for the nav station chair, some cosmetic touch ups, power -leaned cushions, software updates for navigation systems, oil and filter changes, complete servicing for the dinghy, greasing of the furling gear and winches, varnished wheel, new navigation and courtesy lights, and an elbow-bending amount of scrubbing. Two Fish was ready for another ocean crossing.

Moreton Bay is full of marine life, despite being the backyard for Brisbane, a major city. Humpback whales use the calm waters to train their young calves. Vast quantities of blue jellyfish with symmetric tentacles arrive on a north wind. Locals will move the jellies by grabbing the top to avoid the stingers. Birds of many species have created homes in the shallow waters created by dredging. A few sparrows tried to nest in the boom of Two Fish. We worked hard on discouraging the birds but the best defense was raising the mainsail while out for a short trip. Moreton Bay is another spot on the coast that owes its naming to Cook; Lord Morton probably noticed the misspelling but no one else seemed to mind.

It was difficult to finally leave the Royal Queensland Yacht Squadron because Two Fish had never stood still for longer during her three year existence. The club is serious about its sailing with five members participating in the most recent Olympic games. We saw Moths foil past and Wild Oats XII (Australia’s most famous sailboat) start an offshore race in front of the club. Club members encouraged us to join Wednesday racing and to untie Two Fish and visit distant and near anchorages.

On our final departure day, the engines purred as we navigated the narrow channel to exit the yacht basin. I think of Two Fish as a two hundred foot boat. We drop our sails very early and I like plenty of sea room from other boats. I am aware of how silly I must look as Wednesday racers come darting in and out of the harbor with only small margins for error. I used to sail like that, but the miles under the keel have warped my view of being almost at the dock. I joke that we put out our fenders for docking farther offshore than the average day sailor’s voyage. Our conservative approach is driven by the fact that every dock, channel, mooring field and anchorage has been brand new to us. I miss the comfort of sailing in my home waters of New York where we would sneak behind ferries and had memorized the current’s patterns.

After less than a mile, the main and screecher were gently pulling our twin hulls over the small waves to Peel Island, a sand island in the southern end of Moreton Bay. We anchored the boat in the lee of the island, making it a very comfortable anchorage. We were cruising again. No Uber. No WiFi. As I lowered the dinghy, I realized hikes, swimming and explorations were back on the menu.

We met a local sailor who was anchored in one foot of water as he had a lift-up keel. His small red boat did not require fancy hydraulics to lift the keel, just a simple rope. For a moment I thought his anchor was a stolen lawn ornament. He had the best spot in the anchorage – a short wade and he was onshore.

Australian weather tries to keep pace with the deadly reputation of Australian wildlife. Australia has the most deadly collection of snakes and also has experienced the most deaths in one yacht race. However, many Australian cruisers would tell me they were not brave enough to sail across the Pacific but they were comfortable circumnavigating their treacherous homeland. I was quick to inform them that I was more focused on the weather for the trip from Brisbane to Sydney than I had been for the entire Pacific Crossing. Australian weather has rough seas when the powerful ocean current transporting millions of gallons of sea water north conflicts with a strong breeze that tries to push the water back to the south. Waves start to resemble rolling hills and sailors wish they had chosen tennis as their pastime. Local sailors were bemused to find out that their trip to the southern island Tassie (aka Tasmania) was world-renowned for danger.

To enter sheltered rivers on the Australian East Coast, one must pass over a bar. These are sand bars, not bars that serve drinks with umbrellas.   A bar can become a dangerous mess (Video of Catamaran Surfing into Southport) when volumes of water are returning to the sea while the breeze is blowing onto the shoreline. In preparation for our trip South, I researched bar crossings. The guides offered the ominous tip that when you are in a dangerous bar you should never turn around – just keep going. Gail found online cameras to monitor these bars.   The cruising guide also rates the bars almost like a ski resort rates their trails in degree of difficulty. I plotted our potential duck-in entrances from bad weather, while triangulating the chance that the bar may become impassible. By the end of my efforts I was confused and over-prepared. Australian officialdom posts many signs near the waterways warning of the dangers of bar crossings, which did little to calm Gail’s nerves.

There are two possible routes to Sydney from Moreton Bay. The first is to exit to the north, a longer but easier to navigate route. The second is to head south into a delta area with shallow spots and low power lines. We chose the more difficult second option since this path allowed us to explore backwaters. Power lines and sailboats are a poor mix as evidenced by warning stickers often found on masts. So I scoured all the data to see if Two Fish could safely navigate under the power lines.  The older cruising guides listed the wires at 23 meters, but a more recent document lowered the measurement to 20.3 meters, offering us only 1.5 meters of clearance.   In the USA, the power lines are much higher to prevent the power from arcing from the power lines onto the metal boat mast. I suppose the Australian electrical engineers do not see arcing voltage as a serious problem. A few drunks at the yacht club bar assured me “it was no problem mate” and that was enough reassurance for me. As we passed under the wires, Gail was quick to remind me not to hold onto anything metal. I steered the boat close to the power line tower and traveled at low tide to get the maximum distance between our masthead fly and the high voltage lines. The boat did not smolder, but we were now in dangerously shallow water. A quick turn got us back into the channel. We were now free to explore the Delta which was reminiscent of the Carolinas. Fish camps, small fuel stations, and tall reeds contributed to the Carolina look.

We tied up in a small marina and became local celebrities. Two Fish was huge compared to the local runabouts and consumed a slip meant for two boats. We spent the mornings jogging past corn fields and fish farms. I met a twenty-five year old guy who had bought his first motor trawler. It was wood and an old salt was offering him advice on anchoring, boat repair and docking. His eyes were wide open and I felt sympathy and jealousy for all the new surprises headed his way.

After sailing for over three years, we are no longer complete idiots, just partial idiots. And with that extra salt in the veins comes some amount of wisdom. I don’t claim to have discovered the meaning of life unlike other sailboat bloggers. I disagree with their opinion that world peace would occur if everyone was living on a sailboat. Judging by some VHF radio chats I think world war might come sooner with everyone afloat? Imagine if Kim Jung Un dragged anchor through a crowded harbor. I suspect his admonishment would be harsher than he gets firing missiles into the ocean.   What has changed with the passage of sea miles is that cruising gets easier. A pump wears out and an hour later, with little drama, the pump is replaced. When we are about to execute a complex maneuver, we talk it through and it goes smoothly. We know how to manage bad weather and we know how to do more of what we enjoy. For us year three has been a joy.

We left Steiglitz after exhausting the restaurant’s menu. When I arrive at a new port, I am full of excitement and optimism. We tend to leave when that feeling has been pushed aside with an annoyance. In Steiglitz, the birds were my nemesis. We were tied up beside a large tree which was home to many competing birds. At dusk they would create a collection of evil cackles that drove us inside to seek shelter. The birds also left calling cards on the deck that looked like melba toast. The birds pushed us out of town and farther down the delta.

As we headed farther south the scenery changed from swampy marsh to huge homes that must be either owned by sports stars or used in a reality TV show. We had reached Southport, the center of Australia’s Gold Coast. The farms were replaced with glitz; there were towns with dreamy names like Surfer’s Paradise and many places vying for your money in exchange for sunnies and thongs(sunglass and flip flops).   Our host for a few days was a power boating club whose members showed up in great numbers for club dinners. A box style gambling scheme arranged by the club was very popular with the members.   The winner took home thousands of dollars. The friendly boats sharing our dock also shared some great suggestions for our coastal journey.

Southport looks a lot like Broward County in Florida. This is not by coincidence; the developers had been inspired by the canal construction in South Florida. However, after the first bit of construction on the Gold Coast, the canals turned green with fetid water. A few Florida engineers were flown to Australia to make modifications to the drainage and construction and the canals turned blue.

We had reached the end of the sheltered route; our next steps would be in the ocean.

Despite my reluctance to sail to the Great Barrier Reef, I couldn’t imagine a stay in Australia without a visit to the reef. I booked a room at Lizard Island, the farthest North spot. We were greeted by a friendly lizard, although our co-guests didn’t seem as enthralled with it as we were. Anything that eats bugs is okay by me. We looked at the sailboats bobbing at anchor from the comfort of our room. The only other ship that passes by is the bi-weekly supply ship, bringing food and heavy items.

Cook’s presence was strongly felt. The HMS Endeavor stopped here in August 1770 to find a passage through the reef; this was just a few months after the Endeavor ran aground on a shoal.  The crew were eager to get into open ocean but the path was difficult to find.  The Great Barrier Reef is far from the mainland and has infrequent gaps for safe passage.  The crew anchored on the west side of Lizard Island and sent a party to the highest point on the island to chart a safe exit.  The hike to the summit took Cook a day; now we were following in their footsteps, but aided by a path. We arrived at Cook’s Look and tried to imagine how he had made his navigational determinations. There is a guest book at the top, and, after adding our name, we spent some time paging through to find the names of boat friends that had recently visited.

Back at sea level, we went on a few dive boat trips. I snorkeled with a pack of manta rays while Jason communed with the Potato Cods. Jason went on his first night dive and was greeted by a guitar shark (really a ray).

Eager to see more of the coastline, we visited our friends in Coolangatta. Coolangatta is the southernmost coastal town in Queensland. After marveling at the panoramic view from their apartment, we went to New South Wales(NSW). The airstrip at the Coolangatta airport crosses over the border. During daylight savings time in NSW, you can gain or lose an hour repeatedly while taxiing. That wonderful feature of your iPhone automatically detecting the time zone doesn’t seem so great anymore.

Although Two Fish was cleared into Australia for one year, our tourist visas were only valid for ninety days. We needed to leave the country and re-enter for a reset. Emirates happens to fly its A380 from Dubai to Brisbane and then Brisbane to Auckland. The second leg is not a very popular stand alone flight as evidenced by the relatively cheap seats for such a luxurious aircraft. The great in-flight service made the trip worth it. I am not looking forward to being back in the USA where great service and flight are not words that are heard together.

It was just a short visit but we made the most of it, visiting the Royal New Zealand Yacht Squadron and the Louis Vuitton Cup, complete with its custom valise. Other highlights were visits to the houses of a few work friends, who have returned to their native land. I was struck by how far away from the world Auckland feels; for a brief moment I could forget about the problems of the broader world. A few more long walks and we were back on the A380 and eager to see Two Fish again.

October 2016
Despite being told that Perth is a modern city, I still think of it as a frontier town and was eager to visit. Most of Western Australia is red dirt; 2.6 million people live there, and three-quarters of them live in Perth. If you like a good story, watch the movie Red Dog and you will feel the iron-stained dust in your hair.  The region had enjoyed boom times when commodity prices were surging but now the downtown sky tells a story of corporate belt tightening.  Rio Tinto and BHP Biliton are selling assets and the port is full of large dump trucks waiting for any global buyer.

Since mining is Western Australia’s lifeblood, we stopped at the Perth Mint for a tour. The Perth Mint houses the record-setting Australian Kangaroo one ton gold coin. Eight of the World’s Ten Largest discovered nuggets were found in Australia, including one that a boy stumbled over in a field.  Another nugget was so large they had to break it into three pieces to transport it by wheelbarrow.  The Golden Nugget Casino paid more than melt value for the largest surviving gold nugget.   The gold dust that was a residue of the minting process was so valuable that the workers scraped and collected the gold off of the pots and ceilings periodically.  It is the metallurgical equivalent of licking your ice cream bowl.  I was quite impressed with Perth as a city and could have spent a lot more time there. Perhaps I was influenced by the awesome nut bread with poached eggs and avo, and the fresh juice at our hotel?

Fremantle was just a short train ride away and we spent a day at the Maritime Museum, mostly examining the America’s Cup models.  Australia II was the first non-American boat to win the America’s Cup.  Her secret weapon was a winged keel.  Late in the race series, the Australians leaked their keel design in a hope to confuse the Americans.  The American designers tried to bolt on plywood to their boat to match the Australian design.  The altered keel slowed down the American boat and history was made.

The West Coast of Australia was explored many years before the East Coast; it  was a stopover point for the Dutch and Spaniards.  Australians could have easily been speaking Dutch or Spanish now.   The Western Australian reefs are dangerous and the weather is fierce so quite a few ships ended up at the bottom of the ocean. The Shipwreck Museum was dominated by the 1629 wreck of the Batavia. (see photo below) The VOC (Vereenigde Oostindische Compagnie-East Indies Company) Batavia set sail with antiquities, coins and pre-fabricated sandstone blocks for a portico to be erected as gatehouse for the city of Batavia (present-day Jakarta). A mutinous crew had not yet executed their plans when the ship was wrecked in the Houtman Abrolhos. Most of the crew were taken to nearby islands but the Skipper and Commander went looking for water in longboats. They eventually made it to Batavia; the Skipper was arrested for negligence and the Commander was sent back to retrieve the passengers. Back on the island, one of the senior crew, Corneliszoon took control, including abandoning some crew members on a remote island to starve. He proceeded to kill anyone else who voiced opposition. The plan was to retake the ship and its treasures, and to begin a career as a pirate. Meanwhile the abandoned crew had found sustenance and tried to signal this to the main island. They sensed something was wrong when there was no response so they began building fortifications. The attempted mutiny was finally squashed when the original Commander returned to the area. 125 people had been murdered. Corneliszoon’s hands were cut off and he was hanged for his crimes.

Quite uncharacteristically, I signed us up for a full day bus tour North. I wanted to see the Pinnacles, a field of limestone formations, and I knew the driving would be more than we would want to do in a day. The tour of the lobster factory was a bit of a bust, and the sandboarding boards were not waxed enough to move more than a foot on the wet dunes, but the Pinnacles and the wombat were worth the trip. Our co-bus occupants were pretty quiet until the driver engaged four by four mode over the sand dunes. They egged him on as I tried to figure out how much longer this would last.

Further North is the Ningaloo Reef. We flew there for our glamping experience. The wind was howling and our tent was creaking but I was somewhat comforted by the knowledge that if it fell down, I was on land and someone else would need to fix it. Not every glamper was as happy with the weather – one couple left early. I enjoyed reading in the hammock with Wallaroos hopping by and comforted that the tent had USB outlets to recharge the kindle. The manager began to tell me the story of his Aunt and Uncle who had left South Africa in a small boat with gold bars stashed in the keel. I recognized the story as that of a book I have wanted to read but could not get electronically-A Small Boat to Freedom, by John Vigor. Small world.

The motorboat ride into the Indian Ocean was wonderful as we swam with the whales darting by. The boat’s cubbyhole included a next with some baby birds. When we returned to our mooring, mom and dad bird quickly flew to meet us and check on their progeny.

The whales are adapt at avoiding contact with humans and boats, a fact I happily remembered at a later point when I saw one dart across Two Fish’s starboard bow.

September 2016

We timed our visit to Darwin so as to join our rally friends Magda and Tim (s/v Belafonte) and explore Kakadu National Park. Darwin caught us by surprise. It was purpose-built for rough men that mine the earth. Our first hotel was a gray building that felt like a scene from Cops Darwin. After we left the Cops Hotel, there was a knifing down the street. On our return to Darwin, I booked a larger room at adifferent hotel and we ended up with a two story 1970’s style suite. Also odd, but at least a bit more Barney Miller than Cops.

Jason enjoyed perusing the small Darwin military museum. The main show was the Defense of Darwin Exhibit, which told the story of the bombing of Darwin in 1942. I enjoyed the 10K coastline walk from the city to the museum.

Kakadu is now a national park covering 20,000 square kilometers with many trails and campsites, but it has been home to Aboriginal peoples for 50,000 years. They were hunter-gatherers and roamed the terrain seeking food and staying in temporary shelters. The people in the Kakadu region recognize six seasons of the year: pre-monsoon, monsoon, stormy, humid, cold, and, hot and dry.  Their activities and food varied with the seasons. I was captivated by the story of their cough medicine. There are tiny green ants, Yangga, that roam the rocks. The people capture the ants and grind them into a paste. Looks like Vicks Night-time to me. The arrival of outsiders changed the lives of the Indigenous People and reduced the population but some of the descendants remain to tell their stories. There are many places to view rock art depicting past endeavors and legends.

On our way to the Nouralangie Rock area, we came across a wonderful Thai roadside stop. Our post-lunch progress slowed, we still managed to hike the plateau and get to the campsite before dark.

We had chosen to rent a simple four wheel drive car while Magda and Tim rented a small camper van.  Jason was fascinated with the pricing scheme.  For an extra fifteen Australian dollars per day they added a picnic table AND WiFi.  They were only available as a package.  He kept asking why chairs did not come with the table but a WiFi router did.

We prepared for a six hour hike after a less than perfect night’s sleep interrupted by a drunk individual banging on our cabin door at midnight. Good thing the doors were locked. Magda carefully calculated the water needs for the heat and I packed some snacks. As it happened, the hike over the hilly terrain took only three and a half hours. I saw many of the green ants along the way but declined to gather them for our medicine cabinet.

Our friends had suggested that we sign up for the six a.m. billabong tour.  A billabong is a water area which is crucial for life in the arid terrain. We were reluctant to wake ourselves in time for the boat tour, but we were rewarded with views of morning bird activity and a peaceful atmosphere.   That is, until the crocodiles started circling. I kept my arms inside the boat. Male crocodiles divide up the river into territories containing several females. Both can leap six feet into the air when seeking prey or my arm.

Once again seeking sustenance on the road back to Darwin, we stopped in the town of Humpty Doo. How could you not? The tavern served me sliders: barramundi, crocodile and buffalo. Back in Darwin, we strolled the streets of the city that doesn’t seem like it ever discovered its spirit after being leveled 75 years ago.

Before leaving Darwin, we went to Tipperary Marina to wave off our rally friends who were exiting the marina lock for the next part of their circumnavigation. S/V Barbara Jean sailed the world on a 38-foot Island Packet with just two people. Meara Nieda from Finland rotated seven people aboard with Pekka always at the helm. Into the Blue is a family adventure. The lock operator even let Jason take the controls for one of the boats. Next time we see everyone will be in Europe.

August, 2016

Our sailing energy tanks were close to zero when we reached the Royal Queensland Yacht Squadron. We were looking forward to an extended stay and a chance to get better acquainted with Australia. Big questions such as “Does everything in Australia want to kill you?” loomed large in our minds. and we agreed that being tied to a dock for an extended period of time was in order. We had heard about the sharks, crocodiles, and boxing kangaroos, but until this trip we were unaware of swooping magpies, killer jellyfish and flying foxes. Although it was still Australian winter, the sun was so strong that the local schools included wide brimmed hats as part of the standard uniform.

 

It took Jason a bit less time than me to reacquire the sailing bug. One week into the

our stay, he asked “Do short cruises within Moreton Bay count as sailing trips?” “Define short,” I replied. “One to two days, maybe a bit more,” was his response. I decided it was a rhetorical question and proceeded to buy a bicycle for trips to Woolies (supermarket) and began arranging our itinerary for the grand tour. As a first diversion, we took a weekend jaunt to Brisbane, complete with a half marathon for Jason and a 10K for me.

Recovering from our first long runs in a few months, we had just enough time to plan a trip to Canberra, the capital city, to build our Australian knowledge base. As evidenced by my poor showing in Traveler IQ, my knowledge of Australian geography was not very good. It turns out that our knowledge of Australian history was not much better.

 

Canberra’s National War Memorial gave us our first view into the intense involvement of Australia in the World Wars. We joined in on a 45 minute docent-guided tour. Three hours later, we managed to pry ourselves away from the guide, but he was still going strong. My previous education consisted of the movie Gallipoli, but, no surprise, even that was a bit off. I also had no idea that Northern Australia was bombed during World War II, with entire towns leveled. The Prime Minister’s desk has a view towards the War Memorial, so the PM will contemplate the costs of utilizing troops in the future.

The National Library has a wonderful room with journals of both Captain (then Lieutenant) Cook and Captain Bligh (the Bounty guy). The National Museum contains many artifacts from Indigenous people of both Australia and the Torres Strait.

 

Too often I find that Indigenous Peoples’ art exhibits can be condescending to both subject and viewer. The National Museum exhibition of Aboriginal Art and culture was not. One painting was accompanied by a video chronicling the background of the Artist.  As a child, he lived in remote part of Australia and had no contact with white Australians.  One day a helicopter landed near some of the villagers.  They asked the pilot if he had any water, “KA-FEE”.   The pilot heard their request and gave them coffee.  The brown liquid shocked the Aboriginals.  The Artist enters this story as a young boy who is having terrible pains in his stomach.  He is brought to the coffee-sharing pilot and flown away for medical care.  After getting all fixed up, the Artist returns with his new name for life, Helicopter.   His painting depicts that journey.

When we returned to Two Fish at the RQYS, I tracked down various tradesman, fended off friendly neighbors tempting Jason with “Really, it is just a short sail and you will be in the Whitsundays”, and planned our next trips. It was quite easy to find great services in the bay, so my job was relatively easy.

Our plan was to visit Darwin (north west Australia), Lizard Island (middle of the east coast), Western Australia (no need to tell you where that is), Sydney and Tasmania. We passed on the famous Uluru (red rock), Melbourne (food city) and much more. But four months passes quickly when you are slow travelers. During this vacation from our vacation we also decided on our plans for 2017. We would ship Two Fish back to the US and sail a final short season in the Bahamas to celebrate our grand adventure. Twenty-Five Thousand miles seemed impossible when we left the dock in Argentina. After our Bahamian adventure we will sell Two Fish and chart our next course. When we shared this decision with friends they often asked why we would stop? Did something go wrong? No, just the opposite. It has gotten better every year as our skills have improved. But it is time to try something new.

Although New Caledonia has many bays we could have explored, we saw a weather window for sailing to  Brisbane so we decided to take it. Onward to Brisbane! Did I mention it was getting colder? The sea temperature continued to decrease as we headed South. Fleece blankets were retrieved from their hiding spots and hats were de rigueur for night watches.

We entered the harbour (respecting the Commonwealth spelling) at night, with Darren at the helm. Major channels in Australia have blue leading lights; when the leads are in line, you are traveling in the middle of the channel. These were super useful as both the city lights and the large cargo ships can make for a confusing night entry. In addition, the headlights from the dune buggies on the western islands sometimes seemed like approaching vessels, keeping us all alert for a few hours.  There are a few unlit minor channels whose large markers create a hazard at night.  We had one last minute swerve to avoid meeting a marker.  The reason they are unlit is to avoid leading large ships away from the major channel.

For the Brisbane area, the point of clearance is Rivergate Marina. There isn’t much there but the staff are very nice and the flat whites at the café are tasty.  [Jason comment:  There was quite a lot at Rivergate Marina if you want to rebuild your transmission, haul out a ferry, or, install a new electrical system on your megayacht.  Gail’s nothing refers to restaurants, cycle paths and museums.] Australian Customs and Immigration were efficient and friendly. Biosecurity performed a full inspection of our boat, and after an hour or two, we were cleared. Thinking back to the supercilious guy on the dock in Tonga, who told us we were mad to go to Australia instead of New Zealand, we reminded ourselves that negative people are just that.

Australia will allow people to stay 90 days on a e-visa.  Yachts can stay one year and then apply for another one year exemption.  It gets complicated if you try to sell a boat in Australia, but nothing a broker can’t help you through if your last stop is Australia.

With a full day to explore, we headed to the Koala Sanctuary, where we couldn’t resist the tourist photo with the locals. Darren’s koala didn’t want to leave him but Salwa’s koala was uncharacteristically standoffish. I would have carried mine out if they had let me.

We headed to Moreton Bay to explore and anchor for the night. The westerly swell was a bit uncooperative as we lowered the dinghy. Eager not to repeat our Îles de Pins mishap, we secured the dinghy, bow and stern.  Sandhill races on the coast? With points for style, Darren certainly got the gold.  Too bad the westerlies continued so we gave up at nightfall and headed for our eventual Australian home at the Royal Queensland Yacht Squadron.

Jason was bummed that Salwa and Darren didn’t join for a warmer leg.  Swimming and Scuba were curtailed.  We also had run low on the tank in terms of energy, so we did not explore as much as usual. We only had a few more days with our guests so a whirlwind tour of Brisbane, Noosa headlands and the Gold Coast rounded out our trip.

We couldn’t believe that we were actually in Australia after spending the last year planning for our trip and sailing across the Pacific.  Those who have sailed across the Atlantic can wear red pants, but what color do we earn for the Pacific?  Maybe a floral print? Perhaps my next gift for Jason. The question left for us to answer was “What’s next?”.

After a bumpy, into the wind and waves, start to the trip, the crew and Two Fish quickly settled into old habits. We were headed to New Caledonia, a French territory on the edge of the Coral Sea. Once again, we were going to visit a country that I hadn’t heard of until our Pacific planning. I introduced the crew to the joy of the portable Starbucks Mocha Latte. “So, that is what took up all the room in my luggage,” Salwa said. However, they quickly joined my camp and looked forward to their daily allotment. Because it is an essential passage pleasure, I had to institute strict rationing to prevent any binge drinkers running down the supplies before Australia. Jason, a non-coffee drinker, was amused by the whole process.

Our first stop, Îles des Pins, received a somewhat mixed review.  Many cruisers claim this is one of the best stops in the Pacific.  It was a bit early in the season, so the water was too cold for me, but Darren had no issues taking a quick dip.  The temperature change was a big shocker for our Pacific blood.  We layered on the sweaters in 60 degree (F) weather because we had not seen winter in 3 years.  We assumed all of the world’s oceans were over 80 degrees warm.   The main beach in Îles des Pins had a touristy restaurant with awful food, but the bay was beautiful and it was a welcome rest stop.  We were shocked that the French could produce low quality food but happily ate plenty of carrot salad.

Just a few steps away from the main area, we turned down a random path and hiked through the pine woods.  This turned out to be one of our favorite walks. Darren tried out a new crab shirt logo (see photo) and a dead snake gave us pause, but we trudged on, eventually finding our way back through someone’s overgrown yard. Cook named the spot the Island of Pines in 1774. Unlike other Pacific islands, where sailors planted pine trees to ensure future spar inventory, these pines seemed to be native. Perhaps a pine cone or two floated over from Australia many years ago?

 

We had been so excited to explore that we did not think about our dinghy when we went ashore.  We had beached the dinghy and then tied her to a tree in anticipation of a rising tide.  Lesson learned: we found that as the water came in the small waves splashed into the dinghy. Each wave contained fine sand, leaving us with a very heavy dinghy.  Fortunately, we carry a manual bilge pump on board and a water scoop.  Jason pumped for quite some time and finally One Fish was light enough for the four of us to drag her into deeper water. After some cleaning the boat was as good as new, but, just to be safe, Jason changed the fuel/water separator on the engine.  The next day we left before sunrise for the capital of New Caledonia: Noumea.  The night before  Jason had drawn a map of the nearby anchored boats to help us depart in the dark.  Darren manned the night vision scope and found the yellow no anchoring zone marker.   We would have used the radar but it was out of commission, waiting for a new part in Australia.

When we arrived in Noumea, it was blowing a good 20 plus knots.  We had come to a marina since our starter seemed to be having problems (Note:we have since installed a new starter and all is running smoothly).  So we were down to just one engine.  Docking with only one engine is much harder.  The marina has no weekend staff and had left us cryptic instructions on our berth.  Why do marinas make it so hard?  I think my next job will be a marina manager.  We thought we had found the correct slip but at the last minute realized it was in use as there were existing dock lines.   Jason now had to do a loop through a mooring field full of tiny boats.  The tiny boats were moving actively and there was little space for the oversized Two Fish.  In such a windy location, two engines would have been helpful while executing the tight turns.  Instead Jason used the rudders and blasts of forward and reverse to complete our loop.  On final approach Darren called out the distance to the dock and then executed a huge leap to the dock.  Salwa, inspired by Darren’s bold leap, copied him in a more modest proportion.

Jason had hoisted the French courtesy flag  and our Q (Quarantine) flag before entering New Caledonian waters, as required for all visiting yachts.   It seemed like a good thing to also hoist a New Caledonian flag that we had in our collection.  Not a good call.  This flag indicates that we support secession of New Caledonia from being part of the French state.  Two Fish is a politics-free zone and we have no views on any territories. Fortunately, a passer-by gave us a heads up before the angry gendarme could scold us. The rebel flag was struck immediately.

We were in Noumea for a few days; it looks like the multiple bays and large lagoon would be a great place for a holiday.  We had dinner with friends from Spirit V and Zoom, Jason replaced a water hose, and Darren and Salwa navigated the back roads. I learned that taxi drivers in New Caledonia can be less than helpful; I might still be waiting for the driver with the bigger trunk (see photo) had we not rented a car for the day.  Arriving in Noumea was easy as the Marina did most of the paper work.  However, leaving was a three hour mission.  We had to visit three separate offices in opposite, far away locations, reminding us of Brazilian immigration procedures.

How could I forget? There was a significant happening in Noumea – Jason’s birthday! We chose a French chain restaurant in hopes of tasty sausages but ended up disappointed. Jason’s plate looked like an odd sack of meat.  For the next week, ridiculing this meal became a boat joke.  Time for a rescue operation back on Two Fish engineered by Darren and Salwa: Eclairs and Champagne for all.

You might not recognize Australia in the heads up chart view below, but, after leaving North America in September 2015, we were finally just 4 days and 19 hours from a new continent.

We were unaware of the Fijian tradition to sing good wishes and safe travels to departing yachts and were pleasantly surprised by the serenaders at Vuda Point Marina.  It was a heartwarming moment.
We then anchored near Fiji’s reef exit for ships, setting ourselves up for a classic Jason departure. As soon as the faintest glimmer of light appeared in the sky, we scurried on deck to ready Two Fish and weigh anchor. By the time we reached the channel, the sun was fully up and we were ready for our four day passage to Vanuatu. Four days and just the two of us on board. As we tried to adjust the chartplotter screens to our usual passage settings, we noticed that our radar didn’t seem to be showing obvious land features. Seems that the magnetrons in Furuno radomes have a limited life and my perpetual insistence on having radar on at all times while on passage had meant that we reached 3000 hours in just 3 years. Maybe the 20,000+ miles traveled had something to do with that?

Our destination was Vanuatu.  We had never heard of it a year ago, but after being with coconut milk runners (nickname for Pacific cruisers) for so long it now seems like common parlance.  Our Pacific Island geography has certain improved, but Africa remains a sore point when playing TravelerIQ.  Vanuatu has Melanesian roots and was colonized by the French and the English.  They agreed to share it, which they thought of as rather sporting, however I suspect the Melanesians were not too thrilled.  Today, English seems to be spoken widely.

We had a fairly kind passage. As we approached Resolution Bay, we could see the smoke from the Volcano that we were hoping to visit.

Jason donned his scuba gear to check that the anchor was set and then raised the Two Fish flag. We knew the real fun would not start until Two Fish veterans from our 2014 French Guiana trip arrived. Salwa and Darren first boarded Two Fish in Fortaleza, Brazil for our sail to French Guiana and Trinidad. Darren could probably single-hand Two Fish and Salwa was the first winner of the crew Small Footprint Award.  My mantra for the previous two months had been, “when Darren and Salwa join, I don’t have to do any more work.” (note: Jason didn’t debunk that opinion until the day before they arrived.)
We were trying to keep a low profile as we hadn’t cleared customs and immigration yet, but that didn’t last long as a neighboring boat alerted immigration to our presence. Thank you busybody boat. Actually, it all worked out well as the immigration rep was in the bay for someone else and was happy to meet us ashore. To give some scale to the fortuitousness of the presence of immigration, one must understand their closest office is a two hour drive away.  The Vanuatuans seem similar to the French, relaxed about checking in. The Brazilians, Americans and Australians could learn a few things.

The next hail for Two Fish was not by radio but via the local communication service: Head to a hill top and yell.  A resident of Tanna was trying to tell us that Salwa had arrived .“Hey, Two Fish, someone has been yelling for you from onshore for the last ten minutes,” our neighbor radioed. Salwa, having survived the 90 minute ride from the Tanna airport to our bay, quickly decided that accommodations on Two Fish were superior to the mosquito cabins onshore. The cabins had received very high scores on Trip Advisor, but were just thatched huts with no screens, a bit too open in a sometimes malarial zone.

Darren had a bit more of a challenging approach; he had missed his second flight in a series of many. So now he would be delayed a couple of days and have a large layover in the Vanuatu industrial core, Port Vila.   The final salt on the wound was a five hour car ride with stops for taxi repair and picking up a new beer fridge.   He took it in good spirits but the effects showed up as he was first to bed that night.

The next day we tackled the volcano. We could see the tell tale sign of venting gas from the shore near the anchorage. We traveled by pick up truck (men outside and women in the cab) for the nighttime trip to the Volcano at Mount Yasur, but it was well worth it.

The village at Port Resolution has suffered much damage from cyclones and we had brought some nails across from Fiji to help in the reconstruction. The village is remote and is a bit stuck between a traditional way of life and the pull to modernization. The fishermen using canoes in the bay have cell phones but now they need to worry about electricity for charging them.

To our delight, we managed to catch up with fellow Antares Field Trip in Port Resolution. The previous time we had seen them was when they visited our NYC Apartment a few years ago. We watched Field Trip sail down the East River in 2013, only imagining that we might be doing the same at some point. It wasn’t all “delight” as one night we returned to the boat to find some bugs both on our table and next to the winch buttons. I shrieked and panicked until I realized they looked dead. Michael, on Field Trip, had dinghied over to play a trick on us with his plastic replicas.

Field Trip has impressed us with their slower paced voyage, as they have been able to spend more time in ports and have gotten to know the local residents. On their sail around Tanna Island, they gave a ride to friends from one of Fiji’s remote islands who happened to be in Vanuatu and they have immersed themselves in the local communities as they travel.

Jason and I prepped for our next trip while Salwa and Darren explored the island a bit more and then we were ready to set sail. It was sad to be leaving friends that we had been with for the past six months.  Our friends on Wishanger sent us off in proper style with three blasts from the loud ship horn.  To a sailor, that was a tearful moment.  Our friends were continuing on their circumnavigation, while we were off to New Caledonia.

Photo credits in this post go to Salwa, Darren and Mark.

When we pulled into Savusavu after our four day passage from Tonga, we were happy to drop the anchor and get some rest. I had been very stressed about double-handing for four days and nights after having had the luxury of so many great crew during our recent passages.  However, Jason chose an easy weather window and the trip was smooth (code name for I was not seasick).  Jason seems to really enjoy the long passages. He was even starting to be glum about the finish line of the trip being near, despite his being a bit exhausted after so many miles.

Our time in Tonga had been dominated by rain, rain and more rain so the blue skies in Fiji were somewhat blinding. At our first Fijian landfall we were required to anchor in the quarantine anchorage, the only ugly spot in all of Fiji.  I was more concerned about bugs from the rusty freighter joing Two Fish, than about Two Fish infecting Fiji.  Three hours and four officials later, all ferried from shore via our dinghy, we tied up to the dock at Copra Shed Marina.  The Marina dock is just a small space for half a dozen boats, but it was very convenient and the price was right: same as a mooring ball!  The first thing we learned was how to say “greetings” in Fiji. Bula!  A lot of Bulas get exchanged in the busy core of Savusavu.  It took us two weeks to stop confusing the Kava ceremony(sevusevu ), the largest town in Fiji(Suva) and our first landfall(Savusavu).

We were greeted by fellow yachties who gave us the lowdown on wifi data cards and food. The highlight from the food front was Grace Kitchen, the quasi-Korean religious sect who believe that the Great Famine will arrive and thus is setting up organic farms in Fiji to feed the people. No proselytizing, just fantastic bibimbap, kim chee and dumplings, and the sweetest cucumbers I have ever tasted.  We came back more than once because the food was good and the employees were so enthusiastic.  If we voiced any compliments, the entire staff would come forward to enjoy the praise, often bringing samples of other tasty treats.

Our trip to Savusavu was calmer than our friends’ trip had been a few days earlier, in unsettled weather.  The wife heard a strange noise and woke up her husband.  An indicator showed that the bilge pump was running.  He opened up the floor board to discover massive amounts of water.    The first check when you see water is to determine whether it is fresh or salty.  Fresh indicates that a water tank has a leak and salty means the great blue ocean is entering the boat.  They realized the source was that the prop shaft had slipped out of the boat.  A three inch hole was inviting the seawater to come in at an alarming rate.  After a very brief period of panic, they stuffed the hole full of odds and ends.  A nearby fellow rally boat volunteered to escort them the last 100 miles.   When they arrived in calm waters, they discovered the shaft was still attached to the boat and could easily be slipped back into place.   Yikes! (FYI, the shaft stayed on because their shaft zincs were in place on both sides of the strut)

The Fijians have been visited by many interested parties over the last several hundred years. Even the US Navy has threatened them once or twice, but the usual Pacific suspects have been more prevalent. Cook came to the middle of the three island chains.  His guide “hid” the location of the main island area.  Today there are charts showing the best anchorages in Fiji, but maybe there are a few that they are still hiding from westerners?  The missionaries traveled here to convert Fijians to Christianity. The Prince of Tonga also settled on the main island for a while. After a confederacy of chiefs was formed, the Kingdom of Fiji was established in 1871; a few years later, Fiji became a British colony-no referendum. One hundred years later, they received their independence and even left the Commonwealth. There has been some infighting between the various ethnic groups and the islands went through a tough period but good relations have been re-established. Unfortunately, Fiji still is challenged by weather events. During February 2016, Tropical Cyclone Winston claimed many lives and destroyed villages across the islands.

After a few days in Savusavu, we bought the requisite kava root for Sevusevu ceremonies and began our Fijian exploration. One of our stops was a small bay with a tiny village on one coast. As is the custom here, we paddled our kava root to shore to ask the village chief for permission to anchor in his bay. After wandering up a village path and through the small groups who were listening to the rugby broadcast, we found him. He welcomed us into his tent; as most of the village was taken out by the cyclone, there were not many freestanding houses left. He rolled out a mat and invited us to sit down so that he could formally welcome us. After he chanted the welcome, he fetched an old children’s map of the world and we showed him where else we had been on Two Fish. He apologized that he was not serving kava on a Saturday, but we were happy not to partake. After a slight hesitation, he asked whether we had batteries on board for his flashlight. Jason paddled back to Two Fish, retrieved some batteries and a solar lamp. We were happy to provide something of value there.

We sailed to Bua Bay at the North West edge of Vanua Levu  and later along the coast of Viti Levu through the “Fiji intercoastal”,  land on one side and invisible reefs on the other. Finding the channel markers is challenging, and nautical charts are not very accurate. Many navigational markers were taken out by Tropical Cyclone Winston and other storms. We transited using charts, offline satellite images and our eyes. The blue dot on the satellite photo above is Two Fish’s GPS location superimposed on a satellite image. Jason was grinning ear to ear as we sailed with spinnaker and full main, wing on wing in a narrow channel beside the coral.  The anchorages are a bit deep (15 to 20 meters) so our other challenge in some small bays was to balance scope with distance to shore and rocks. The reward for our work was entering remote areas with no neighbors and plenty of interesting walks.

After a few anchorage stops, we headed out to the Yasawa islands. Every nation seems to have its Blue Lagoon and Fiji’s is wonderful. At Turtle Bay, we found an awesome snorkeling ground near the beach.  The Yasawa Islands used to be accessible only by private yacht, but now backpackers and celebrities can visit.  Backpackers come via high speed power cats;  the hotels must pick the guests up from the ferry via small speed boats since the islands lack a ferry pier.    The 1%’ers arrive by seaplane, right off the stern of the anchored boats.   Both provide occasional amusement for the anchored boats.

It was hard to leave, but we needed to re-provision, so we headed to Musket Cove resort and then onward to Port Denarau Marina in Nadi. We were given a berth among the megayachts; our yacht friends anchored outside the marina and used our excess dock space as a dinghy parking lot. For the first time ever, we had the luxury of refueling without having to move the boat.  The megayachts fuel at their slips because it is cheaper and easier to run fuel lines to each slip than to build a larger fuel dock.  For the rest of the day Jason kept using the word bunkering, large ship terminology for refueling. We used the extra time to take care of maintenance tasks such as updating our autopilot software. This task reminded me of the old days of computing since we had to connect a cable directly to the processor and keep our fingers crossed that the system would restart.

One of the things we love about Fiji is the range of experiences that we can have here. From unpopulated bays, to small villages, to resort lagoons and marinas, we can understand how other boats have spent multiple years here. At every stop, the Fijians we met were gracious hosts. The snorkel spots have been beautiful and the sharks have kept their distance. As our departure date neared, I was already planning for a return visit.