Passage to Fiji

It can truthfully be said that many blue water cruisers do not like ocean passages.  The First Mate ranks with that crowd.   In fact, she immensely does not like ocean passages.  Though she does know a few souls who say otherwise, she has concluded that they either are pulling her leg just to make her feel less the sailor or they are made of far different stuff than she – like barnacles, seaweed and maybe Kryptonite for added insensibility.

It was on April 4, 2014 that we cleared customs in Nelson, New Zealand having crossed the Tasman Sea from Hobart, Tasmania.  New Zealand allows a foreign boat 2 years’ time on its shores.  Then one must leave or pay to import the boat.  Our 2 years runs out on April 4, 2016.  Still eager to cruise around the South Pacific, we will leave.  First stop will be Fiji where we will cruise until the end of June.  A return to the States in July and August is planned, for we never miss our summers in Telluride’s mountains.  In September, we will sail to New Caledonia, and just before the cyclone season officially starts in the South Pacific, we will sail onto Australia.  It will be a full year!

It has been two years since we have done a passage.  Though we guess that really is no big deal, it is still a fact in our minds.  What has changed for us?  Are we as mentally and physically prepared?  We think we are.  No, we know we are!  But still …….

It is 1200 nautical miles from Opua, New Zealand to Savusavu, Fiji.  1200 miles is a long way to go in a car let alone a sailboat averaging 6 – 7 miles an hour.  With amazing wind, it could take 6 days.  A sultry passage could be as long as 9.  We figure between 7 to 8 days which is more than enough from The First Mate’s unhappy perspective.  Passages are one of life’s evils which do not go away and must be endured.  Childbirth is another one.

Adding to The Captain’s watchfulness and The First Mate’s angst is the fact that crossing the South Pacific in the beginning of April is about a month earlier than most people would or should expect to be going.  The official South Pacific cyclone season does not end until April 30th.  Weather is still unsettled out there.  Anything can happen and, with weather, it usually does.  Most cruisers heading north to the islands wait until May or later to leave, but we do not have that option.  April 4th is our official departure date.  New Zealand Customs will not make us go out in adverse conditions.  This is a maritime country after all.  They know what can happen out there, and they really do not want to be involved in a search and rescue mission if something were to happen.   That offers us some relief, but we know we still have to be ready to go as soon as a good weather window opens up for us.

Monday, April 4th – We are provisioned and fueled.  All systems are go for departure, but the weather is not good.  There is a cyclone in Fiji.  It is quite a mild cyclone, but it is a cyclone nonetheless.  It has far stronger winds than we want to experience.   The Captain emails Customs to let them know that we are all ready to go and just waiting for weather.  Customs is fine with that as long as we keep them informed.

The Captain uses several sources for weather information.  GRIB files (which The First Mate calls Fib Files) and PredictWind are used most frequently.  For this passage, however, he has signed up with what many consider is the premiere weather forecasting service for ocean passages:  Commander’s Weather.  Based half a world away in New Hampshire, they amass their data and give wind and weather advisories for anywhere on this planet.  We have used them before on difficult passages, and our Telluride friend, Bob Trenary, on his s/v Home Free, relied on their services sailing down to and around Cape Horn.  The Captain trusts these people.

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Thursday, April 7th – Earlier in the week, it looked like a passage would not be possible for a week or so.  We cool our heels and monitor.  But by Thursday noon, The Captain thinks that a window may be opening in the next few days.  He sends an email to Commanders’ Weather for their recommendations.  Unfortunately, he forgot that we had just switched off daylight savings time in New Zealand, and, back in New Hampshire, they are already closed for the night.

Friday, April 8th – 0500 – In the dark of early morning, The Captain gets up to check the response from Commander’s Weather.  The summary reads:  “Leaving as early as possible today is preferred rather than waiting a few days.”  The email goes on to describe the forecast weather for our passage, and it is not bad.  We should have wind in the 10 knot range for the first 24 hours, then light headwinds for a day or so that we will have to motor through.  By midweek we should start running into the easterly trade winds in the 15 to 20+ knot range.

The First Mate remains skeptical and must read and reread the email.  Resigned to the inevitable, she gets her body on the move.  No lazing in bed this morning.  Both of us are up with tasks to be completed.  Call Customs to set up an appointment.  We both have to show up with passports and ship’s documents in hand to get our outbound clearance.  They are extremely professional and accommodating and agree to meet us at 0930.  A final trip to the laundry and a good shower, for neither usually happens on a passage.  A trip to town to top up the propane for the stove and ice for the freezer.  Check out of the marina and pay all outstanding bills with local shops.  Get our duty free beverages delivered.  Contact local friends to say good bye.  Send emails to friends and family to tell them we are off and not to expect to hear from us for about 10 days. 

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We have to motor for the first several miles, but once well out in the bay, we find good winds and can raise the sails.  By the time we exit the bay and are into the open ocean, winds are from the W running 18 – 19 knots enabling us to sail along on a reach doing 9 knots.  What a great way to start a passage!  Knock on wood!  Eager to dispel those evil demons, The First Mate quickly strikes a piece of teak.  Past experience has shown her how quickly and nastily the good start of a passage can turn really bad.

1830 – Out on deck with our headband flashlights on, we enjoy dinner from our green plastic “doggie” bowls.  Pasta and rice dishes are the rule for passages, mostly bland and easy to digest.  Also, mostly made up and frozen ahead.  Subject as always to seasickness, The First Mate has her Transderm Scop patch in place.  Nothing requiring a lengthy prep time down below in the galley is served up on passage, and when conditions are really bad, crackers and cheese are all we can manage.

During dinner, we discuss the watch schedule for the night, and it will turn into the one we follow most nights.  The Captain will take the watch until 2200 followed by The First Mate until 0100.  The Captain then has it until 0400.  When The First Mate takes over at 0400, her desire is that The Captain sleep as long as he is able, but he rarely goes beyond his 3 hours.  At 0700. she is relieved.  Setting out breakfast, she crawls into the aft berth, nestles amongst the pillows and sleeps until she wakes up which is rarely more than 4 hours.  It is interesting how, even though sleep-deprived, one becomes accustomed to the rhythm and demands of passage making.  Without need of an alarm clock, sleep runs in 2-hour or 3-hour cycles.

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Saturday, April 9th – Shortly after midnight, the wind drops off, and we have to turn on the engine and motor all night.  The day dawns cloudy with some early light rain, but with her new storm shelter, we on Avante are comfy and dry.  About 0800, the winds return between 10 – 15 knots from the NW, and for the most part, it is a great sailing day.  Despite motoring all night,  we do 167 nm miles from midnight to midnight.  Fiji is getting closer.

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At 1030, the engine is cranked on, and we motor onward for the rest of the day with winds less than 10 knots from the N.  These are the light headwinds that were forecast.  Since Fiji is almost due north of New Zealand, we are motoring right into the wind.  We only make 145nm today, but Fiji is getting closer.

Monday, April 11th – We motor all night under reasonably calm conditions.  The First Mate knows we cannot motor all 1200nm to Fiji.  We do not carry enough fuel, but being a person who, on a blue water passage, is more inclined to wish for a Nordhaven (ocean-going motor vessel) than a J/160 (racer/cruiser sailing vessel), she doesn’t mind motoring as much as we can.  Somehow and for some reason, The Captain does continue to tolerate her, but if the wind enables us to sail at more than 4 knots in the direction we want to go, we’re sailing!  Most of our passages in and out of New Zealand have been on the rough side.  New Zealand waters do have a reputation for this which is why we think Kiwis are such great sailors.  To The First Mate’s “see I told you so delight”, a highly experienced Kiwi sailor told us that he never minds motoring on passages to or from New Zealand.  It is far better than getting kicked by bad weather.

Sail we do until later in the morning when the wind finally shifts to ENE.  We are starting to get into the trade winds.  We sail along for about 3 hours before the winds dip again, and we motor on into the evening.  154nm today.  Fiji is slowly getting closer.

Tuesday, April 12th – Nothing lasts forever, and neither do benign sailing/motoring conditions.  In the middle of the night, winds increase to 17 – 20 knots.  On a starboard tack, Avante is hard on the wind banging away into the surf.  The First Mate is full of all kinds of unsavory thoughts, but nothing can be done about the conditions.  Endure, just endure.  In the early morning daylight, we put in the first reef which does calm the motion of the boat a bit.

While the winds were out of the west and then while we were motoring, we have been heading east of our rhumbline.  This is because we expect to have stronger winds out of the east at the end of the trip and sailing will be easier if we can fall off a little.  Our course has us heading for Minerva Reef, and we are thinking of possibly stopping there like we did in 2011 on a passage to Tonga.  The encircling reefs out in the middle of the ocean are all that remain of an island grouping that slowly sank into the sea.  There is no land to speak of, and the reefs for the most part only show at low tide when one can see the surf washing over the coral. 

There’s a narrow winding opening into the lagoon which must be navigated in daylight so one can see the coral obstructions along the way.  Once inside, one motors across the lagoon avoiding uprising bombes to the spot where one can actually anchor in the middle of the ocean.

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Minerva Reef is an unbelievable place to hang out for a few days, but we are also doing so to avoid our arriving in Fiji on the weekend as our present pace would now have us doing.   Clearance fees are at least double on weekends, and as no one really wants to work on a weekend, we are not sure how much additional hassle a weekend arrival would incur.  It is definitely smarter to arrive when we can be cleared in during a 9 – 5 weekday.

With winds now clocking in at 22 knots tonight, we furl the jib a little.  We sail through the night running between 8 to 9 knots.  Not bad, even though uncomfortable!  182nm today.  We are halfway to Fiji!

Wednesday, April 13th – 0330 – Oh, dear, forget about cooling our keel in Minerva Reef.  The Captain, on watch in the middle of the night, downloads the latest weather updates and extends the forecast period out through the beginning of next week.  Weather advisories show strong winds of 25 – 30 knots developing south of Fiji over the weekend.  If we stop at Minerva Reef, we will have to go through these stronger winds, and we could experience them as far south as at the reef itself.  With absolutely no wind shelter at Minerva Reef, we do not want to be anchored in the middle of the ocean with 30 knots screaming down on us.  Our goal now is to keep moving north to keep ahead of these expected strong winds.  

Since we are no longer interested in Minerva Reef, we can begin to take advantage of the easting that we have made.  Turning left 25°, we set our sights fully on Fiji, and incidentally, the ride becomes a lot easier.  Expecting higher winds as we get further into the trade winds, we put in a second reef, furl the jib and put out the staysail.   This is The First Mate’s most comfortable sail configuration.  She swears her Avante is happier when she doesn’t feel overpowered by the mainsail, and the staysail keeps her from hobbyhorse through the waves.  The Captain rolls his eyes.  We are also on a beam reach in only 15 – 20 knot winds.  Of course, it’s more comfortable!  181nm today.  Fiji is closer still!

Thursday, April 14th – The tropical heat hit us today, and we both have headaches.  For The Captain, the cause is probably the heat.  For The First Mate, the heat, yes, but the tilt-a-whirl motion of the boat in the sideways seas is definitely adding to her misery.  Nothing helps the headaches.  It is another instance of endure, just endure.  Could she function in an emergency?  Most definitely, but right now the less she has to move around the better.

In the afternoon winds are up to 25 – 27 with waves regularly cascading over the deck.  How thankful we are for our new dodger and storm shelter, for they are keeping us dry and protected!  As we sail closer to Fiji, we are much more vigilant about what is around us.   Even though we have the AIS system on which displays any ship out there which has the system installed, not every boat has one, especially out here off these poorer Pacific Islands.  Every 10 minutes a radar check is made to monitor for any ship traffic, and we are up on deck more often straining to see ahead of us.  Who knows if a small fishing boat might be out there? 

Around midnight, we are approaching some of the smaller southern islands of Fiji.  We have been to Fiji before and know that you cannot really trust the charts.  It is totally dark outside so we cannot see the islands, and there are unlikely to be any lights on them.  The Captain carefully plots a course on our chart plotter.  He wants to stay 10nm away from each island’s charted position, so he spends time putting waypoints on the chart plotter for turns to avoid all islands and reefs.  Radar is quite useful at confirming an island’s position, but it would not pick up a reef unless it was higher than the surrounding water.  We are both up in the middle of the night as we watch our progress between an island and another reef located, quite innocently and menacingly, out in the middle of the ocean.  The paper chart has a small notation saying that the reef is southwest of its charted position.

192nm made today.  One more day and evening to go!

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We round the reef heading into the bay that will take us up to Savusavu.  Before darkness descends, we take down the sails and proceed under motor.  We have about 5 miles to go in the dark before we reach the harbor.  There are lights on shore, but the water ahead of us is quite dark.  With a light rain falling and the limited visibility, we slow down and turn on the radar.  As we enter the harbor, the First Mate goes to the bow to keep a good lookout, and we proceed very cautiously.

2000 – End of passage:  7 days, 6 hours, 1246 nm.  With relief, we are anchored in the area designated for uncleared foreign boats.  It’s dark and wet, but we are happy to be anchored.  The lights of Savusavu can be seen on shore, and that’s a welcome show for us.  It’s time for showers, a fine dinner with drinks and a full night of sleep.  As passages go, this was the second best one we have had going to or leaving from New Zealand.  We did it.  We made it, and, as far as The First Mate is concerned, those are the best words to say at the end of any ocean passage!