Passage to New Caledonia

Four little boats start together from Fiji and move across the screen as the hours of the passage elapse.  Gradually their paths diverge as they travel varying wind predictions until they eventually converge upon arrival in New Caledonia.

How clever!  She feels like she’s watching the Kentucky Derby.   “On your mark.  Get Set.  Go!”

“And they’re off!”  Along the bottom of the screen, which is not visible in this photo, the elapsed time is shown.  Here they are about 24 hours after leaving the gate.  Look at that gorgeous green field they are running through and those wind direction arrows with only one short line!  Each little hatch line equals 10 knots of wind.  “Heavenly,” thinks The First Mate.  “Boring, but sailable,” thinks The Captain.

The boats separate as each one takes a route based on a prediction from a different wind model, but look at that red field approaching.  The arrows are now beginning to show 2 hatch lines — 20 knots.  “Uh-oh,” thinks The First Mate.  “Now we’re sailing,” thinks The Captain.

The First Mate is rooting not for the first boat to the finish line but for the boat that follows the path of least resistance — ie:  less wind.  At the moment, the boat following the blue-dotted track looks furthest away from the red area.  “Go, Blue!”

That angry field of red veers off and does not swoop down on the boats, though the yellow-dotted and green-dotted boats sure flirt with it.  “We are not going to be on those boats,” announces The First Mate.

And here they are at the finish line!  Blue-dotted boat wins followed closely by Red-dot.  “It doubly won!’ announces she.  It beat all the other boats to the finish and followed a path with the least wind.  “Go, Blue!”  Green and Yellow bring up the rear, and we definitely don’t want to be riding them!  The Captain rolls his eyes skyward and attempts to explain what the program is actually showing, but it sounds too much like an incomprehensible physics problem to her.  Tuning out, she surreptitiously presses the replay button and out of the corner of her eye watches the race again.  She prefers her own interpretation.

All fooling aside, The First Mate is delighted with Predict Wind’s forecast.  It looks like our passage to New Caledonia will start easy with moderate winds.  Higher winds will hit us in a day or so but nothing higher than the low 20’s, and as we reach Noumea, that gorgeous field of blue surrounding her imagined finish line should see us under motor with little or no wind.  How absolutely, perfectly wonderful!  Buoyed by her good fortune, she plays the program again and again just to make sure nothing nasty tries to sneak in at the last moment.

Tuesday, October 4th –   Passage day!    Though we are always eager for the next adventure, our leaving Fiji is done with regret.  We like to say, “yes, we will return,” but we don’t know when or if that will be.  Though Fiji’s infamous reefs and poor navigation aids had not changed from when we visited 5 years ago, this time, with more ocean miles and experience under our sea legs, neither is as scary or concerning.  We traveled and explored safely and confidently.  Fiji treated us well, showed us delights we had not seen before and shared itself bountifully with our granddaughter.  We will hold our time in this country fondly.

Motoring out, we look back at bustling Denarau Marina.  It really is one of the nicest marinas out here with its many little shops and good restaurants.

At the end of the marina dock are the big boys.  For any who are interested, the big one in the middle is m/v Siri.  This one, we are told, is Tom Cruise’s yacht.  The Captain happened to walk by it one afternoon when the aft compartment was open.  Both a helicopter and a small plane were neatly stored inside.  Why not then a cute little sport car?  He probably just could not see it tucked back in the dark recesses.

There always seems to be a bit of a hassle when clearing in or out of a country on a boat.  To leave Fiji, we have to bring the boat to the nearest Customs and Immigration office which, for us now, is in the industrial port city of Lautoka. 

It is a journey of over 2 hours which just happens to be in the opposite direction we need to go to exit the country.  We could motor over the day before to anchor and save ourselves several hours on the day of departure, but we discovered 4 years ago when we anchored here overnight that the soot from the sugar processing mill on shore rains down on the boat.  By the next morning, Avante was coated in an oily, black mess that proved a labor-intensive chore to remove.  We are not going to expose ourselves to that again!  Thus, we motor the 15 miles in the morning, drop anchor and launch the dinghy.  The same barnacle-encrusted rough concrete steps leading up from the water are there.  We tie up and head into the customs office.

The office looks the same.  The First Mate recalls the flags and posters.  The people have changed, but the pace of work has not.  The officials are quite pleasant, but no one is in a hurry here.  How relieved we are that we are the only ones needing attention!  Pages and pages of personal, boat and travel details have to be filled out.  The Captain plods methodically through it all, occasionally referring to his boat documents for such arcane information as the model number of our radios.  The process takes almost an hour, but finally we are done.  We are cleared out of Fiji.  Free to go.  Next port of call:  Noumea, New Caledonia.

Back to the dinghy we march to climb around the railing and down the concrete steps.  The tide is up so, gratefully, we are not made to gingerly side-step down the lower 3 slimy steps.  We make quick work of securing the dinghy and very soon are retracing our steps back toward Port Denarau and then on to Navula Passage and out to sea.

It is now 1330.  With 25 miles to go, it will be nearing dark by the time we get to Navula Passage, and that is not a comfortable time to be going through that often wind-tossed stretch of water.  Well, we will just have to wait and see.  Winds are not helping.  We have to motor at first, then when we can raise sails, we have to tack into the wind.

Along the way, we note that our AIS system is not working properly.  It plays a key role in keeping all of our electronics on the same page, and it would be foolhardy to go to sea without it functioning.  With its tiny wires, there is no way The Captain can trouble-shoot it while bouncing along on the water.  What to do?  Musket Cove is just over there.  We will motor in to anchor.  That we do, but by the time the problem is resolved, it is very dark.  The safest plan right now is to spend the night and head off in daylight tomorrow. Any Fijian border control agent would agree.  Thus, being safety-minded cruisers, we opt for the wisest choice and stay the night — and that is how our story would go if anyone were to ask what we are doing anchored in Fijian waters after completing outward customs clearance.

Wednesday, October 5th – The earlier we get started the less time we give the winds whistling around the southwestern end of Viti Levu to build up, but both of us want to get published two finally finished, long overdue entries to the blog.  It is ready to go, but the program, iWeb, is not working correctly.  All the photos are misaligned and taking up too much space.  The First Mate is beside herself with frustration and irritation.  There has to be a way around the mess, but time is running out.  We must get going before that wind builds up. 

Stymied for the time being, she slams the Apple shut and scrambles topside.  The anchor is pulled at 0815, much later than planned, and  we motor out the reef-lined channel from Musket Cove.  Winds are light, and seas are calm.  As we motor south along the coast of Viti Levu, we reach the area where the wind protection begins to end.  Are we too late?  No, maybe not.  Winds should be building, but there’s hardly a puff.  Can this be?  In the distance, the poles marking the reefs on both sides of Navula Passage can be seen.   Where is the wind?  There are no standing sprays of ocean cresting over the shallow reef.  All is calm — wind and ocean — both unbelievably calm.

Amazed, but not displeased, we line up and motor down the middle of the passage.  The Captain notes in his Log, “Less than 5 knots of wind.  This is quite a bit different from the start of our passage from Fiji to New Zealand five years ago”.  The First Mate confirms the conditions with her camera.  The box on the left shows the wind speed at 4.4 knots.  The box on the right shows our boat speed of 6.28 knots thanks solely to the engine churning below us.

The passage to New Caledonia?  By The First Mate’s personal definition of a passage, this was not a passage.   Where were the long hours of bone-jarring, black and blue-making discomfort?  Where were the exhaustion and the slow counting of endless days?  The on-the-edge queasiness and thrumming headache — where were they?  They were nowhere to be found.  Not even an hour’s worth of torture.   If this was truly a passage, and yes, it really was, why can’t more of them be like this?  The First Mate could really stand such spoiling!

Predict Wind was mostly right.  We did not start out with moderate winds as the program had shown, for with little wind, we motored almost the entire first day.  We began sailing that evening, but had to motor occasionally that night and most of the next day.  Finally, we did reach the area of “heavier winds” and sailed sprightly along under 10 to 20 knot winds for 2 days.  Our final 24 hours into New Caledonian waters saw us back under motor as Predict Wind had shown.

Sunday, October 9th – As with many ports of entry, nothing is open on Sunday, and nobody is around who cares.  In mid-morning, we motor under overcast skies through Canal de la Havannah into the waters of New Caledonia.  Should we proceed on to Noumea where we need to clear customs?  Technically, we should, but we know full well nothing can be accomplished today.  We also suspect we will not be able to get a berth in the marina and will have to anchor somewhere in the crowded harbor.  Like Fiji, we were here 5 years ago.  We know the area.  A large, many-lobed bay called Baie du Prony lies ahead.  Just around the first bend is the welcoming bay of Bonne Anse.  If we are going to have to anchor somewhere, this is a much nicer spot than crowded Noumea Harbor.

As we enter Baie du Prony, ahead of us, we see the ugly scaring of the nickel excavation operation at Mordor Mine.  Fortunately, it will disappear from view as we continue round the curve into Bonne Anse.

By 1115, we have motored in and are anchoring.  Passage is done.  We have arrived.  Boat secured, we sit down to enjoy a brunch of Spaghetti Carbonara, a left-over passage dinner.  With 2 cold beers, we could not ask for more!  We then enjoy a hot shower and an afternoon nap.  What a great way to decompress after a passage!

Tomorrow morning, well rested, we will continue on to Noumea Harbor.  There we hope to get a spot on Port Moselle’s visitor’s dock and set about getting ourselves checked into New Caledonia.