Location: Just over halfway from New Caledonia to Australia.
Date: 24th October 2023
Just 340 miles to go now. It's 03.34 and my night watch is 34 minutes in. Yesterday we put our clocks back one hour for the last time this year. We are now on UTC +10, Australian (east) time. Consequently dawn comes early so in an hour or so it will be properly light.
It's been a good passage so far. We've got on really well with our crew Kris and Maree and the sailing has been generally smooth and increasingly downwind. No fish but two or three pilot whales were right alongside much to everyone's, especially Maree's, excitement. We have though bent two stantions (sp?) on the starboard side with a slightly uncontrolled gybe. The preventer shackle must have worked loose unnoticed over time. Luckily no real harm done.
Yesterday we shared the customarily rum with Neptune as we passed the passage halfway point with delicious quesadillas de Sally for lunch.
However, we have an issue. We are caught between two nasty weather systems. East of us Cyclone Lola is developing over Vanuatu but more of an issue is a large area of very strong winds expected off the coast of Australia. Today is Tuesday, the winds are due to start building on Friday morning.
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Continued on Wednesday morning.
Well, we have been motor sailing for almost a day as the winds drop and we aim to beat the 35+ knot winds due on Friday at Bundaberg. So all is good there. We should arrive tomorrow around lunchtime.
However back in Vanuatu the cyclone has developed into the biggest hurricane ever recorded there in October with winds of up to 320 kph. We pray for the boats we have met that are still there. Insurers will not insure for "named storms" after November 1st but will they cover one before that date.
So, it's time to start thinking of our arrival. Water to make, fresh produce to be disposed of (or eaten), yellow arrival flag to be hoisted and boat to tidy from the usual long passage chaos. We're nearly there!
Crash, bang, clatter. The bow rises up and slams down. Again and again. We are into a consistent 25 knot wind with 3-4m swells brought up from a wicked depression down south, east of New Zealand. Cups fly around, various leaks develop and moving around the boat is hard. I bash my collar bone as I'm thrown across our cabin luckily without breaking it. Kris and Maree our Kiwi crew found the motion uncomfortable at first but soon recovered and proved admirable for the rest of the passage.
Here's Mareki 2 viewed from Mehalah.
This after a moving send off from Vuda marina in Fiji. The marina staff gathered, placed a garland of flowers on the bow and proceeded to serenade us with their "have a safe passage" song. What a lovely way to remember the country.
We were travelling alongside Mareki 2 for this leg, buddy boating as it is called. Our boats proved pretty compatible and there is an element of comfort in knowing there is another boat close by. Especially as we later learned that Astra who we met in Suwarrow had lost their mast (broken chainplate) and Windsong had broken their rudder and had to limp 80 miles back upwind to Fiji.
Two days later the storm had subsided and the ocean is more benign when Kris' rod screamed. Half a kilometre of line flies off his reel. With the drag set to max he's still taking line. Eventually he stops and Kris, who is a strong man, starts the slow process of reeling him back in. An hour later we finally get a glimpse of him. A beautiful yellow fin tuna. He was too large to eat and too big to easily get aboard. So we let him shake the hook out and live to fight another day. [Note: we are now in New Caledonia and see yellow fin tuna is £12 per kilo in the market. That's a lot of tuna dollars we put back in the ocean!].
Large yellow fin tuna.
As we approached "New Cal" we slowed the boat right down with Meraki 2 next to us. The reason? It's another nasty entrance through the fringing reef only to be attempted after low water when the waves are coming into the lagoon behind. Of course the first low water was at midnight and there was no moon. So we opted for the lunchtime tide instead. It was blowing 20+ knots again as we started through. Standing waves and we surfed through to the relative calm behind. It was still 40 miles to the capital and the only check in location here. We covered that pretty quickly by sail and engine on the inflowing tide. I made a potentially serious screw up crossing in front of a bulk carrier in one of the narrow channels but luckily all was well and we continued on our way to Nouméa. It was dark and 7pm by the time we anchored. Kris talked Gill through the anchorage and we dropped the hook in a bay close to the town. It stuck reasonably but again the windlass didn't work properly. [Temporarily fixed again the following day but needs a new motor when we get to Australia].
Next day we dinghied to the marina to start the check in process. Dinghy contract to sign, boat insurance to email (I sent it twice but it didn't arrive - it turned up in marina's spam folder), 20 minute walk to immigration, SIM card shop too busy, back to boat, called by marina to go to the biosecurity dock, tricky approach, all good. It was Friday afternoon and biosecurity wanted to go home. When we told them about the termites we still have in the aft lazarrete they thought we said marmites which they told us was not a problem. In the end they said to just keep the hatch shut and get it sorted in Australia. We have been in contact with biosecurity in Oz at Bundaberg where we intend to make landfall, sent them photos of the infected area, filled in forms and answered questions. It seems though as if the boat will be impounded and not free to enter Australia for at least two weeks while they decide what species the little chaps are and what the eradication steps must be. Then we sail down to Scarborough and put M to bed before flying home for a few months. All this uncertainty though means we haven't been able to book flights, and prices are rising all the time as we approach Christmas. Hey ho!
So here we are in a sheltered bay just a few miles from Nouméa, the capital of New Caledonia. Nouméa is a thoroughly modern city, very French with boulangeries, fromageries, good supermarkets and an excellent fresh food and fish market. But there is an under current of unease too. The supermarkets have guards on the door and when we purchased our SIM card we were told to 'be careful'. We discovered too that the flag we were flying was not actually the official French flag but the flag of the Kanak and Socialist National Liberation Front which is no longer an official flag of the country. We took it down!
Wrecked ship, Baie Maa.
This is the last departure point for both Australia and New Zealand so the regular parties have now taken on an additional frenzy as we say goodbye to friends we have made over the past year. One such event hosted by Bob and Bev on Icarus was particularly memorable. The food (we each provided 'something French') was amazing - cheeses, salads, builabaise and fresh bread. Amongst the guests was Lyn Pardy. Sailors amongst you will recognise the name of this well travelled 70 something sailor and author. She and her husband Larry were amongst the first 'liveaboards' decades ago and she has since been a great supporter of young sailors too.
Gill with Lyn Pardy and her new partner, David.
It's Monday today. The nearest land to the west now is Australia, just over 800 miles away. If all goes to plan we will depart New Caledonia on Saturday and within a fortnight from today we will be arriving in Bundaberg, Australia. Before then it's the usual, engine checks, rig checks, reprovision, clean the hull and prepare for this year's last big push.
And just to finish here's a video made by our Cornish friends Zoe and Angus and their two 10 year old sons Barnaby and Zennor. Pacific Crossing. What an experience.
