Position: 23 degrees, 11 minutes south; 174 degrees, 54 minutes east We’ve gone 140 miles the last 24 hours which is pretty good. Can’t complain about averaging 6 knots for the whole period.

We’re finally south of the really bumpy weather/seas. We’re now seeing more like 5 foot seas and 20 knots of wind, but importantly for our ride, they are now on the beam. The wind has backed to the east, so we can go due south with the wind out of the east-and now tending a little north of east.

It’s a little humbling to look at the chart and see the depth of water we’re sailing over. 16,000 feet deep!

This afternoon, all the clouds blew through and we had one of those incredible blue sky days with white cap peaked waves over deep blue water all the way to the horizon.

Wilson is sailing admirably. I don’t think we’ve make more than one or two adjustments since we left. BUT, last night was a bit of a worry. It got a little blustery about the change in watch, around 0300 and while I was putting on my gear and Ann was getting out of hers, we both noticed Charisma started wandering a bit. A look up to the helm and Ann noticed that the self-steering lines had come off the steering wheel. They have done this before and I thought I could just rewind them and we’d be back in business, but once I got a good look, I realized something, somewhere in the system was broken. The lines were completely slack. Oh, Oh!

I looked over the stern at Wilson’s steering rudder and saw that the line had broken at the knot on the very end that holds the paddle. Worse yet, it had pulled through the 1 ½ inch tube that goes up a couple feet up to deck level where there’s a second turning block that directs it forward. This is not an easy fix back at the dock! You have to feed the line into the tube and through two sheaves-in this case while rocking and rolling in what was then still 6-8 foot seas and 25 knots wind. I actually wasn’t sure I would be able to do it until morning at best, but decided to give it a shot.

Properly harnessed into the boat, I started by seeing if I could get the line to go back through the tube and assorted turning blocks. After a couple tries I was amazing to see it come out the bottom. OK, step one, check. Now I had to slide most of my body down over the stern to be able to reach the paddle (which was moving back and forth with the motion of the waves doing its best to chop my fingers off). It’s a little unnerving sliding head first over the stern, in the dark, in the waves and down the back of the boat. I’m not sure what my feet were jammed against, but they were holding on tight while the rest of me was over the side and preoccupied with getting the steering line back through the paddle. Once there, it was simple. Tie a figure eight knot and get back up on the boat. Whew!

Once back on board, I made some adjustments to the now shortened wind vane steering line and we were back in gear. Wilson is now steering as well as ever. When we get some lighter winds and calmer seas, I’m going back over the side to check on the other side for similar wear. This is, by the way, a line that we replaced in New Zealand. I was not expecting it to wear so fast since the last one went four years before showing signs of chafe. It’s different line though as we couldn’t get the exact same as comes with the Monitor. Oh well.

Life at sea. On a boat. Stuff breaks you fix it.

P.S. to JHam. Your Mana is working. Right after we read your note about sending us lighter winds, we downloaded a GRIB forecast that showed…lighter winds in our future. Good job! P.P.S. We were talking with Bright Angel Bob on the Bula radio net this morning and in reading yesterdays’ blog post, he correctly noted that we had to be on “port tack” not “starboard tack” as typed in the blog. He’s right! Ann was seated in the cockpit and facing aft when she wrote it and got a bit turned around. As editor, I also completely missed it. Thank you Bob for the catch. We are in fact headed to New Zealand not Japan.

Position: 20 degrees, 50 minutes south; 175 degrees, 30 minutes east. 24 hour run: 138 miles.

Our angle on life has changed again. We are no longer at a dock surrounded by very large mega yachts and the tourist chaos that is Denarau. Nor are back in the pristine, seldom visited outer islands of Fiji. We are back on the high seas!

The cabin fills up with foul weather gear and other stuff while underway.

And life on the high seas has a definite angle that requires readjustment. This angle is the 45 degree angle that Charisma is heeled over to in order to make our way to New Zealand. It is difficult to adequately explain life at 45 degrees but I will try.

The most obvious adjustment to be made is in how you maneuver around the boat at this angle. No single step inside the cabin, in the cockpit or on the cabin top can be done quickly. Each step requires us to have a good grip on a support. Like the overhead handrails that line the ceiling in the cabin or the handrails found coming out of the companionway hatch. This spot is where most sailing accidents happen. It is tough to step up and out in a boat that is heeled over and rocking in the waves. One misstep in any maneuver and you have a new “boat bite” to mark the misstep.

And boat bites hurt and then turn into lovely bruises prime for another boat bite. I find that getting into and out of the bathroom, let alone using the toilet and pumping it out, provide the best opportunity for boat bites. And of course those bites are usually on the hips and derriere and are the ones that get bitten again and again. Ouch!

I like the starboard port tack we are on because this means that while working in the galley everything that gets loose simply rolls to the wall. On port starboard tack I end up wishing I was an octopus with the extra arms to help contain the runaways that want to fly off the counter. You have to be extra careful in the galley when we are heeled over this way. One sloppy roll from a strange wave patting Charisma and you can get launched into the stove. No bueno.

Sitting in the cockpit (notice I did not say “relaxing” in the cockpit) at this angle means you need to choose a side. Sitting on the starboard/leeward side means that you are plopped down in the corner with no need to support yourself. (I am sitting here writing this, wedged into the corner.) But getting out of this seat requires timing. You wait until Charisma pulls up out of a roll, grab the binnacle and pull yourself up. Choosing the port side of the cockpit means that you have your legs bracing yourself at all times. I generally put one up against the binnacle and the other on the companionway frame. Not too lady-like but very effective. But exiting this seat is a breeze, you let Charisma roll you up and out! You are always tensed and bracing yourself.

The only time that you can truly relax is when you are in bed. At that is because we use the cushion back from the settee and line the wall with it. This way when the waves cause a roll you don’t end up in a face-plant in the wall.

Meals are served in bowl and as few dishes as possible are used in their preparation. Dishes don’t get left to dry on the drain; everything is dried and stowed immediately. Everything you take out to use gets returned immediately to its storage spot so stuff doesn’t fly everywhere in the big waves. Kind of keeps the boat clean.

This morning I was checking out the beautiful blue sky while sitting on the top step of the companionway when Bob asked if he could get through. You bet! But he waited for a full minute for me to make the safe maneuvers to turn and step down. No boat bites from that maneuver!

Life is slow and deliberate at 45 degrees.

Position: 18 degrees, 44 minutes south; 176 degrees, 41 minutes east

Bang, slam, boinoinoing! We’re “enjoying” 6-10 foot waves and 25 knots of wind. From time to time just to alternate with the normal slamming, we really hit one and the hull vibrates like a guitar string. It sets my teeth on edge a bit waiting to see if something breaks but Charisma seems to be enjoying it anyway.

We’re about 55 degrees to the wind and doing 6+ knots into these waves. We can’t sail any higher or we would just stall out. Double reef main and stays’l are the order of the day. The jib is furled waiting for lighter air-hopefully in a day or so.

The good news is we are making our course line. We want to go 190 degrees True and we’ll actually doing a couple degrees better than that, so we’re sailing a little above course. Good, because we’ll likely see more pronounced headwinds (but lighter) as we get down to New Zealand, so anything we can sail “above” our course now is money in the bank so to speak.

Charisma is very clean right now as we’ve taken some real “gulley washers” over the top of the foredeck, cabin top and even right over the dodger into the back of the cockpit. Ann and I are hunkered under what shelter there is to stay dry.

All in all not so bad though, especially since the winds are projected to lighten. Our bigger issue is if they lighten too much before the waves get smaller. Otherwise, we don’t have enough power to plow through them and we wallow. It’s always something. We just have to wait and see then adjust. That’s the game.

So, that’s it for now. Dinner’s over (Dried bean, vegetable and bacon I made yesterday in the pressure cooker and left on the stove to reheat) and it’s time to start the watches. Ann has the first one until sometime around 0200.

First shower in a month for that matter too. We’ve been taking teapot showers in the cockpit and eating fish or whatever veggies we can cobble together from the islands. Today, first thing we hit Fiji Meats for steak and “streaky bacon” (If you don’t order “streaky” you get Canadian bacon. Nothing against Canadians, but that’s NOT bacon). Tomorrow morning, I’m getting a bacon and egg sandwich!

The other highlight from today was just checking in with some of the other cruisers here. A couple of them we haven’t seen since Mexico almost two years ago, but really fun catching up with “the community”.

Our disappointment for the day was that the Vodafone place didn’t get a new internet dongle as promised so we are still “Facebookless” (and “NYTimesless”). But we have hopes that the thing will make it down from Lambasa tomorrow as promised (yeah, right. This is Fiji, we’re on island time. We’ll be lucky if it makes it here before we leave in a couple days)

That’s it for today. Can’t believe it’s “Labor Day” already, but can tell because NOBODY IS RESPONDING TO THIS BLOG. Uh, OK, I’m feeling better now.

😉

Yep, we’re back in Savusavu. I was looking at the weather and thinking, “Do we want to sit in an exposed anchorage (albeit with very good holding) and get beaten up with wind and rain for three days, or do we want to go to Savusavu and stock up from a real market and most importantly in this modern world, replace our broken internet dongle so Ann can play Words with Friends” (OK, and so I can read the NYTimes). Hmmm. That took about 30 seconds of thought when we woke up and saw a break in the clouds.

Well, they fixed the hole in the dock at Waitui. Now about that marina sign...?

So, after 9 ½ hours (at an average of about 7 knots motorsailing) we’re back in the Savusavu. It’s nice sometime to be in a familiar place. Waitui Marina answered on our first call on the VHF said they had a mooring and Isiri came out in a dink to guide us, as he put it “to our old mooring”. Nice to be remembered. We got in around 5:15 local time, very efficiently dropped the dinghy in the water and got the outboard on, so we had time for a Charisma to watch the last of the sunset. Then we jumped in and took said dinghy ashore to our favorite Chinese restaurant, the “Savusavu Chinese Wok”. As we were sitting out on the porch listening to the cars and people we realized it’s been weeks since we’ve heard “noise”. We really haven’t been around either people or cars. It’s comforting in a way to be back here, but we’ll be over that by the time the dogs on shore start barking at 0500. Anyway, we’re here long enough to a) stock up and replace our broken internet thingy and b) wait for favorable weather to head to Koro Island-which is more or less south of here, then on the Nairai. We’ll see when the wind will cooperate. Certainly not for a couple days at the earliest as there is a low bouncing around just to the north.

Stay tuned…

That’s really about all that we can say about today (except that I can’t believe it’s already September!).

A blustery day anchored at Mattei, Taveuni.

We were hoping to dinghy in to the beach for breakfast at a little resort with a very cute, tiny restaurant. We walked by it yesterday on our way to our failed attempt to have lunch at the little pizza place up on the hill. Failed on both accounts that these are literally the only two places on this side of the island worth visiting for a meal. The pizza place, after a 30 minute hike, was closed! Grrr. So we called our friend Wani, the taxi driver (who is also the Chief of his village on the NE side of the island) and he picked us up and took us into Somosomo to resupply. You think a place with a name like that would be at least a township, but it’s not much more than a ferry stop. There’s a couple stores, the only ATM on the whole island, a market where you can get wine, rum and beer (but they were out of reasonable looking meat products, so we’re pretty much going vegetarian for the next “some” weeks until we get to Suva or catch more fish). And there’s a great outdoor market. Actually a series of stalls along the roadside with some of the nicest vegetables you’ll ever see. We stocked up on cabbage (very long lasting), potatoes (ditto), eggplant, bok choy (very short lasting) and some other stuff that will get us through at least a couple weeks of fresh food.

Yesterday we made it into the outdoor market at Somosomo.

Today was a bust of a different kind. We really wanted to go to this little breakfast spot. We walked in yesterday to look at the menu and were taken by how sweet the proprietress was. She was delightful. There were only a handful of tables and it looked out at the water where Charisma is anchored. We had visions of pulling in to their beach on our dinghy and walking barefoot up the path. But…the wind was howling this morning. The reality of cruising sometimes is you just have to stay on the boat. We would have been soaked if we had even made it in without capsizing. “Maybe tomorrow” is our mantra out here. We have nothing else to do, right? We’ll take a look at the weather report tonight and see what tomorrow looks like. Last night’s report showed a brief respite before more rain and wind, so who knows.

Our other highlight for today; Ann called her good friend Chuckie (Charlotte, but she doesn’t like that name-sorry Chuckie) and we called my folks. My Dad was out doing errands, but we had a nice chat with Mom. Good to be able to touch bases from home.

So, that’s my story for today.

(From Ann) Well we repositioned today from Katherine Bay on Rabi Island back over to Mattei on the very north tip of Taveuni. We spent a few days in this anchorage when we tried to go see the triple waterfalls and instead had a blast at a water slide. We are back here to reprovision, especially the basics: chocolate, cheese, beer and wine. And rum if it doesn’t cost too much. Actually even if it does, since we’re down to our last bottle from New Zealand. We awoke to a torrential downpour this morning. With our new funnel rain catcher we managed to catch 3 gallons of water in 20 minutes! No need to run the water maker as we made our anchorage change!

Fish on!

Raincatcher v1.0 (the bucket version) Funnel tied to the solar panel on each side of the boat.

And best of all, as we approached Taveuni that wonderful sound of “zing!” Fish on! Yep, we caught another good sized mahi mahi! And Bob is planning to make ceviche to go with Charismas tomorrow! Such a treat!

(From Bob) Dinner was a treat. Fish doesn’t get any fresher and we took the dinghy in to get a bottle of cold Sauvignon Blanc to go with it since we ran out of wine last night. There’s a little store just up the road from the beach where you land the dinghy. We picked up the wine, some chocolate and next door a little vegetable stand had some fresh green beans. Perfect, since we’re out of everything fresh.

I was hoping to poach the mahi in coconut milk, but when we started cooking we found we had used it all. Darn. Oh well, a very light sprinkle of lemon pepper, sear the fillets in butter-both sides-then add finely chopped garlic in a little more butter for about 30 seconds, then a couple tablespoons of Japanese Fish Sauce. It smells really bad when it’s cooking but you put a lid on it and gently steam the fish while the rice is cooking and oh, boy, it adds some real flavor. Worth a try at home.

We’re sitting in the cockpit after dinner and I’m marveling at this spot. We’re tucked in behind a little motu to windward that’s helping to break the waves/chop. The rest of the way around us are reefs that keep the waves at bay. We’re anchored in 25 feet over soft sand. The anchor set very firmly. The stars are out for now. Nice. The only downside is that because of the reef, it’s about ¼ mile dinghy ride into the beach. BUT, it’s nice to be tucked in a nice spot. The weather’s supposed to be unstable for a couple days. Rain, maybe wind. It’s really nice to know that we have good holding and protection from the worst of the wind/waves. There are many spots you stop in where you really don’t sleep very well when the weather is changing. You hear every creak, groan slap and flap and wonder whether that’s the one where you slide backwards into the reef or rocks. This spot is pretty comfortable although just looking at us you’d think we were just anchored in the middle of the ocean because we’re so far out from shore due to the reef. It’s also nice that we’re the only boat here. No worry that the guy upwind is going to drag anchor in a blow and drag down on top of you. The reef is very low and not too visible from shore, so from the beach Charisma looks like she’s just anchored in the ocean. So, all in all this is a nice spot.

Our plan is to go to town tomorrow and resupply. This means taking the dinghy ¼ mile through the chop (with foulies on to keep from getting soaked), dropping an anchor in the shallow water and timing the depth right so I don’t have to swim out in deep water to retrieve it. The tide will be rising so we’ll watch for that. We have already spoken to one of the taxi drivers and he’ll pick us up, take us shopping and bring us back for $15US. There are resorts on this side of the island so there are some independent taxis like this guy (his name is “Dip”, pronounced Deep). There’s only one road partway around the island-and only a portion of it is paved, so there are a few cars. So that’s tomorrow-rain or shine-because Sunday everything is closed and we want to be fully stocked and ready to go when the wind/conditions are ready for us to head south which could be as early as Monday.

We motor-sailed today from Albert Cove on the north end of Rabi to Katherine Bay on the south side. Rabi is only about 12 miles long, so it was a relatively short trip. In fact, these jaunts are the tiring ones because you have to put everything away (dinghy outboard, dinghy, misc stuff that accumulates on deck, etc, etc) and then get it out again three or four hours later when you re-anchor. Oh well, complain, complain.

Anyway, the highlight of the day was our trip ashore at Katherine Bay. Not because anyone was very friendly. They were not, for the most part. The adults ashore didn’t go out of their way to even say hello which is most unusual. But, the kids were so fun. We were quickly adopted by four little ones between the age of 6 and 13. They escorted us through their village, into the next one and back. They only dropped behind when we walked down the road outside the village. At the point the houses ended the kids said they couldn’t go any further. We thanked them for showing us around and went on our way little knowing they would be waiting at the dinghy to help us back in the water almost an hour later.

Our guides to Katherine Bay.

They were pretty silly...

Very cute!

...and fun...

...and of course, they adored Ann!

The highlight of our time with the kids was when Ann showed them how to “whistle” by putting pieces of grass between your hands and blowing. A couple of them picked it up and were able to do it. We’re thinking we have now forever changed their culture. Cruisers will come here a year from now and be serenaded by people whistling with blades of grass.

Some shots of town:

"Main Street" on Katherine Bay.

A streetlight.

A woman who had been out collecting pandanas leaves for weaving.

Another step before weaving-you have to dry the pandanas leaves

One of the entries into town from the bay through the mangroves.

Charisma happily waiting for us back on the bay.

They start 'em with a machete pretty young here.

So, a quiet night and then we’re moving on another 25 miles down to the south end of Taveuni tomorrow (hopefully, weather permitting-there’s some rain coming but it’s not clear whether tomorrow or later). It’s a place called “Paradise Resort”. From there we can get a taxi up into Somosomo to resupply. We’re out of wine-sigh-and other essentials. I made a green curry tonight with the leftovers from last night and our last carrot. All we have left in the way of veggies is some potatoes that are sprouting. So we hope for paradise tomorrow with all the irony that statement brings.

We’ll see.

I’m in the galley starting a special dinner (more on that below) and Ann’s in the cockpit reading and we’re surprised by a very special delivery. Four, what my uncle used to call “ankle biters” in an outrigger canoe pulled up to Charisma. Mind you we’re a good 100 yards from the village here at Albert Cove, but this outrigger had two older boys (10 and 8 years old) paddling with their younger siblings (3 year old and 18 month old) in it. I heard Ann gasp when she saw the canoe and call out to them. Turned out they had been sent out on a mission by their grandfather, Samuel. We had been with him earlier in the day and he promised limes. We said we would come in early in the morning before leaving tomorrow to pick them up. But being a proactive guy, he sent his grandkids out with a burlap sack full of limes and a guananaba. Very much appreciated. Now we won’t get scurvy. 😉 We returned the favor. Ann gave the kids a beach ball and they headed back to the beach with smiles looking forward to playing with their new toy.

Bula!

Special delivery!

Earlier in the day we went on a tour of the area with Samuel who is the patriarch here. He took us on a hike down the beach to his “plantation”. The plantation consisted of batches of taro and yagona (kava). The old plantation was wiped out by Cyclone Evan last year, so this is rebuilding for them and they are proud of the effort. On our way back down the beach, Samuel told us to keep going as he ducked into the bush. He would meet us back at the huts. So we continued down the beach and spent some time back in the village (it’s not technically a village, but a series of huts that this group of people use as a fishing base. Since the kids were on holiday from school, there were four families here which are more than usually reside here). Anyway, we got to know some of the family while we waited for Samuel. And waited. And waited. We watched Samuel’s wife weaving roof sections for the new house out of palm leaves and another of the women cooking coconut oil that they sell in the larger village down island. Finally we decided it was getting late-the sun was setting-and we needed to get back to Charisma. We were just wading out to the dinghy which was anchored in shallow water off the beach, when we heard a shout from down the beach. It was Samuel. He was smiling and waved us toward him. Off we went and as we got close we realized he had gathered a treasure for us. Real heart of palm. Normally an expensive delicacy in the U.S., here you just chop down a young palm tree. Normally we would be concerned about chopping down a tree, but there are so many young palm trees and so few people living here there was no loss. With great gratitude, we accepted his wonderful gift (not knowing that he was yet to send out the kids with the limes as well). Turns out our gift of a whole bag of rice (among a bunch of other stuff) yesterday was really well received as they have none and won’t have any until they go back to the village in a week or so. Once again, we already regret leaving a place where the people are just so wonderful and kind.

Samuel cutting our heart of palm.

Samuel's wife weaving coconut palms for a new roof for their hut.

Weaving the new roof.

Oh, and dinner. We have been intending to prepare an authentic Fijian dish of fish cooked in a pumpkin, but when we checked our fish supply we realized we had run out. Well, yesterday when we brought some supplies ashore one of the things the folks here gave us was a bag full of salted, smoked fish. OK, we’re in business, so here’s the menu: you take a Fijian pumpkin (actually more like a large butternut kind of squash), you cut a hole (keep the “lid” that you cut) and hollow it out, then fill with onions, garlic, fish, coconut milk and whatever else you want. I added slices of our new heart of palm. Put the “lid” back on with the whole thing in a pyrex dish and put in the oven on 375 degrees for an hour more or less. Oh, my! There’s a whole new set of future recipes coming from this basic treatment. The Fijians of course put the pumpkin in a lovo and bury it in the ground. We don’t have a lovo or ground for the matter, so the oven is it. Anyway, an amazing dish. At Ann’s suggestion, I cut the two ends and turned them up then filled them with the fillings. This left the center of the pumpkin to use in a curry tomorrow night. Yum. Yum. And yum!

The stuffed pumpkin just about to head into the oven.

So there you are. We’re (reluctantly as always) leaving here tomorrow. Probably for Katherine Bay a ways down the coast of Rabi, but we may go over the top of the island and sail back down to Taveuni. We need to resupply on our way south to Nairai to meet the folks who found our bottle that we threw over at the equator back near Mexico. As I might have mentioned in previous posts, we’re now desperately short of wine, nearly out of beer and almost out of rum. We’re down to our last bottle of Kiwi rum. Thank goodness Ann has developed a new rain catcher that involves a funnel attached at the corner of the solar panel so at least we have fresh water and can make tea. (Quick get me to a real store!)