Position: 19 degrees, 03 minutes south; 169 degrees, 55 minutes west The weather was not cooperating today. We got up bright and early (okay, so the rocking and rolling of the southern swell woke us up) and started our day. The skies were overcast but we were hoping that it was temporary. We were also hoping that the swell was temporary. To go ashore at Niue you take your dinghy to the wharf and then use a crane to pull it up and out of the water and set it on the concrete wharf. Seems easy enough. Unless there is a 3-4 swell that threatens to wash you into the concrete wall as you attempted to attach the lift.

We opted to wait out the swell and try later in the day. Meanwhile I decided it would be a good day to get laundry done. Bob decided it would be a good day for a good book. Bob was right. I was deluded. I got the laundry done but getting it dried was another thing. I hopefully hung all of the clean clothes out to dry in the wind (since there was no sunshine coming through). Let’s just say that after two squalls our laundry was well rinsed and not very dry. I went out and squeezed everything one more time and tried again. Then the laundry dance started. I sat down with a new book and every time I looked up and spied an incoming squall I jumped and pulled in the laundry. I hung it up all around the inside of Charisma and waited for the squall to pass. Then out it went again. In it came again. At least I got some exercise!

The laundry is now 80% dry and hanging throughout the interior of Charisma.

More importantly, Bob put out the flopper-stopper and we only are rolling in a 45 degree arc versus our neighbors on nearby moorings who look like they are making 90 degree arcs. One boat stopped to admire the brilliance of the flopper-stopper. They think Bob is amazing. I am pretty pleased too.

So we did not go ashore today. Tomorrow Orcinius has rented a van and we are touring the island! The Rose is coming with us – after we both go to Immigration and complete our check in. More details on Niue tomorrow, including landing at the wharf! Wish us luck!

Position: 19 degrees, 03 minutes south; 169 degrees, 55 minutes west

The coastline is so rugged, the only way ashore for our dinghies is on this hoist (Charisma is on a mooring in the background)

Hooking up. If there are any waves at all, this is very tricky-and it's directly exposed to the ocean. Impossible to do when the wind is out of the west.

John showing his special style

Off the hoist and on a trolly and you park your dinghy in the lot

Simple as that

Beveridge Reef (I’ve been spelling it wrong) to Nuie was a little over a 24 hour leg. We left at 1230 on Tuesday and arrived Niue at approximately 1600 on Wednesday. We were helped by a time change that gave us an extra hour.

The trip was a tough one. Squally weather the whole way meant that Charisma was never really balanced for the long haul. That meant that Ann and I were constantly trimming the sails and the wind vane for changes in wind speed and direction over the course of the trip. Charisma didn’t settle down until the last six hours on Wednesday when the wind finally settled into a groove. That means little to no uninterrupted sleep for the last 24 hours. We got here, checked in at customs, made pizza for dinner and now; sleep. Oh yeah, we had a Charisma while watching the rain that’s been forecast start to come in. We got here just in time.

Looks like we’ll be here at least through Monday. There’s lots to do. Snorkeling, hiking, biking, there’s even a tour where they advertise you can swim with the whales. There are a lot of whales here. We’ve heard they even swim right through the moorings. In fact the mooring right behind us is not usable right now because a whale damaged it a couple weeks ago when it got caught in it as it swam by (I don’t know what kind of damage, I just know it’s not useable right now).

OK, time to sleep before I start rambling…

Position: 19 degrees, 40 minutes south; 168 degrees, 25 minutes west

Some squally weather

That’s what I just heard. The boat rolls really hard, you can hear the water above your head gurgle over the side and onto the deck, then the boat rolls the other way and all the water that is inside the scuppers now works its way through the drain on the cockpit coaming and across the cockpit seat. That’s when you hear Ann swear as the river “roars” across her cushion and, well…you get the idea. Tayana River! (And now Ann has a wet rear end!)

As you might surmise, we’re underway again and it’s rough. Seas are about 3 meters and the wind is in the low twenties. We’re flying the jib only and doing our usual 6 knots or so. It’s been squally most of the day. Mostly wind in the low teens but then a big squall sneaks up on you and before you know it it’s raining and the wind is up suddenly to 25 knots. Keeps us busy.

We left Beveredge Reef about 1230. What an amazing experience that was. We were anchored there for three days and other than our friends on Orcinius who came with us, we didn’t see another boat. We don’t know of anyone behind us planning to go either. It’s a little out of the way and not charted, therefore not often visited. But it’s one of the most beautiful places we’ve seen in terms of the stark beauty and the amazingly vivid shades of blue. You have to like blue because that’s all there is other than a tiny bit of coral occasionally visible where the waves break on the reef. Wow, we feel privileged to have been able to go there. It’s not “free” though. There is some anxiety getting in and out. Today there was a three knot current and some whitewater coming out the pass and the pass is not very obvious. At most other atolls there’s some indication of where the pass is since there’s land and you can see a break. Not so at Beveredge Reef. There’s no land, so you have to discern where there are fewer waves breaking and turn in there. A leap of faith at that point-you hope you were right.

Anyway, tomorrow, if the wind keeps up, we’ll be in Niue. We’re looking forward to going ashore after being on the boat for the last five plus days. Scooters! Internet! Maybe we’ll be able to post some pictures. We hope to stay at Niue for a week and just wind down before heading further west to Tonga.

Stay tuned.

Waiting for the wind to die down (sigh)

On the one hand it’s frustrating that we haven’t been able to do any diving because the wind hasn’t come down from the high teens and mid-twenties. On the other hand, we’re getting some boat projects done that have been low on the priority list. We’ve figured out how to use the digital radio functions that allow for automated calling between boats and even more importantly today I finally figured out how to get the SSB to accept Lat/Lon/Time data. OK, sounds geeky, but will be hugely useful. It means when we’re sailing with other boats we know, they can “poll” us on our radio and automatically get our position sent to their boat without us having to tell them anything. Also, it automates the “auto-distress” call. In case, of emergency all we need to do is push the “distress” button on the radio and it will send out a distress call and automatically include our exact Lat/Lon position. I’ve been trying to make this work from time to time for a year and haven’t hit the solution. I’ve felt it was a software issue, but finally today it occurred to me how I could fix it. [For geeks only: I found a way I could “see” the NEMEA sentences in the network box and change them. I found directions on how to access the box, checked and found a GPS position NEMEA sentence was turned “off”. I turned it on, and voila; the Lat/Lon/UTC time appeared on the SSB]. The stupid/frustrating thing was the VHF made by the same manufacturer (Icom) worked fine connecting in exactly the same way. It was just something in the SSB that would only accept a different nav sentence. Oh well-lots of hours wasted, but ultimately success!

Even more important, I beat Ann in Cribbage today pulling even in games won. Go Bob! (From Ann: VERY close win. VERY lucky.)

We’re likely to leave this beautiful place tomorrow. The weather reports are showing that these passing fronts that are throwing so much wind will not abate for the rest of the week, so it doesn’t seem worthwhile to sit here and rock like crazy for a week just to get some snorkeling in. Our current plan is to check the weather reports tonight and unless there’s a really promising window in the next 24 hours, leave tomorrow around 1100 which is high slack water for this atoll. We’re going to try and snorkel around the boat at the very least in the morning since the water is so incredibly clear.

Next stop from here. Niue. Yes, it’s a country so we’re going to have to buy a new courtesy flag. I never anticipated we’d go there so didn’t buy a flag. There are moorings on the west side of the island. As with many of these islands, there really isn’t an anchorage, just coral so mooring is the best option. There’s not even a beach to dinghy into. You have to dinghy to a wharf where you pull your dinghy out of the water with a crane and store it on the dock while you’re ashore. They call Niue “The Rock” if that gives you some hint of the shoreline. Apparently there are a lot of caves on the island that are fun to explore. We’re looking to rent a scooter again and maybe even a car for one day to explore.

We’ll see!

Well, we were hoping that the winds would settle down today so we could dive into these beautiful turquoise waters and see the aquarium that we are sure we are hovering over. Actually tonight as we enjoyed our Charismas in the cockpit we did see a manta ray swim by.

Unfortunately the winds have been blowing 20-25 all day. Early in the day it was also quite lumpy as the waves ricocheted off of the reef and came back at us. It has calmed down quite a bit and we are keeping our fingers crossed that tomorrow will bring much lighter winds.

So how do spend a day like this? I equate it to a rainy day in California. My first reaction is cookies in the oven! Done! Secondly there is nothing like a good book to hunker down with. I am almost done with “Hawaii” by Michener. Good day for reading. Meanwhile Bob has been playing radio/VHF/radar specialist. All day he has had his nose either in a manual or at the electronics panel. He has made some good progress. The radar is now properly calibrated and we can make direct calls to boats via their MMSI number (a unique capability of digital VHF radios such as we have). Given that VHF communications are open to all ears it is kind of fun to think we have a special way to contact our friends without the world following. Of course, those folks who are on constant scanning mode can follow but we’re betting those people are the minority.

It’s a little frustrating to be boat bound in the middle of the Pacific, but then you look outside or sit in the cockpit and watch the clouds float over changing the colors of the water and your frustration lightens. And we look forward to incredible snorkeling soon!

A wet dinghy ride back to Charisma

It feels kind of strange. There’s nothing here, yet we’re snug inside the underwater reef which is taking the brunt of the waves. Not all of them though. We’re about ¼ mile from the breakers in 12 feet over sand (we swung into slightly deeper water). It’s blowing 20-25 knots so even though the ocean swells are getting broken we still have some heavy chop inside the reef.

So, you might ask; “what do you all do on a day like this?” Boat projects, more or less. Ann spent most of the day cooking stuff. She made cookies, tried out a new English muffin recipe (they are mucho yummy), made a cole-slaw to bring to dinner and pancakes for breakfast. I worked on troubleshooting the VHF. We’re finding the range on our new (a year ago) radio is only about 8 miles. It should be more like 20. John on Orcinius had a SWR meter that I borrowed to try and find where the problem was. I found a bad connection in one of the cables that we fixed, but also found the antenna has a problem that is probably up the mast. That’s going to have to wait until we’re in a calmer location to work on. A few projects, lunch, this and that and the next thing you know it’s dinner and time to go to Orcinius for a wonderful quesadilla dinner.

In going to Orcinius, we took our foul weather gear for the dinghy ride over since the waves are so big (for a dinghy). We were soaked, but only on the outside. Coming back at 2200, John and Lisa broke out a couple of lifejackets for us to use since the wind was gusting into the 20’s it was dark and overall the trip was looking kind of sketchy. Just getting into the dinghy was a challenge as their boat was rocking up and down a couple feet slamming the dinghy around. You sort of took a “leap” of faith and hoped you didn’t miss. Then the ride 100 yards over to Charisma in the wind and waves in our little dinghy. Nothing but water coming over the side and into our faces. Once back at Charisma, same problem. Charisma was bounding several feet in the waves and we had to somehow get out of a slippery rubber dinghy that was three feet lower than we were. Fortunately there were no casualties and we’re snug back inside the cabin, listening to the wind howl in the rigging and trying to stand up without falling over.

Cruising’s not all blue skies and warm water. Sometimes you pay for the privilege to be out here.

Position: 20 degrees, 01 minutes south; 167 degrees, 46 minutes west

Our "landfall". This is it. This is all you see from the outside of the atoll. No land in sight, just the bare top of the reef

Through the pass-it gets this rough because all the current is going out through a fairly small opening in the reef

The color of the water is amazing. This is just inside the reef

We're anchored in about 10 feet of water over sand. Right next to us the depth drops to 40 feet, this the change in color

If you can call it a “landfall”. Actually there is not a stitch of land in sight. This is really an atoll, but without any islands. There’s a reef that surrounds us by 360 degrees and all around us the waves are breaking on the reef. That’s what protects the inside. However, the reef is just under water, so you can’t see any land whatsoever. The only thing that sticks above the reef is a wreck of a fishing boat on the west side of the reef. It’s about 5 miles from north to south and one mile east to west. In the meantime, we’re anchored on the inside in totally protected water. It’s a little bumpy since some part of the wave energy makes it over the reef, but no big waves. Most of the inside of this reef is 40 feet deep with some coral “bommies” that seem to stick up about 10 feet. We don’t want to anchor in that since the chain can get wrapped around the bommies and cause problems. So, we’re on the fringe of the inside-near the reef- in about 11 feet over sand. It’s pretty cool to see because the water color goes from turquoise to ice blue as you move from 40 feet very suddenly to 10 feet. The transition is about three feet-there’s literally a “wall” of sand from the depths up to where we are. Then the 11 feet of sand goes about ¼ of a mile out to the ocean reef where the big waves are breaking. These waves are almost the only indication there’s anything here. From the outside, there is very little to tell you there’s a reef here. I said “very little” because there’s one other thing. If there are clouds overheard and you are paying attention, you will see the bottom of the clouds glowing a turquoise color. They are reflecting the inside reef water color. It’s subtle but unmistakable.

All in all, this is kind of like sitting in a bathtub in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. There is a storm of sorts that looks to be blowing through in the next couple days. We’re thinking that this is a good place to sit it out. We might put out a second anchor tomorrow just for extra security. Overall it should be an interesting experience. Heck, just being here is already an experience of a lifetime. Orcinius is here with us and we are the only two boats anywhere near here. We were saying at dinner that there have probably been fewer boats here over the years than people who have climbed Mt. Everest. It’s that far out of the way from anywhere else and the pass is just imposing enough to keep a lot from even trying to get inside.

By the way; our passage was fantastic. The full moon has just been stunning. Tonight it’s still shinning its light, but there are clouds filtering it. We’re looking forward to doing some snorkeling tomorrow weather permitting. The water clarity is nothing short of amazing.

Position: 19 degrees, 40 minutes south; 166 degrees, 38 minutes west (130 miles today)

We’ve been seeing lots of sixes and sevens today. If we were gambling we would be winning. If we were playing Farkle we would be cheating – there are no sevens in Farkle. But instead of playing games we are sailing under wonderful conditions!

We slowed down a little very early in the morning so Bob put out the pole and set the sails to go wing -on-wing. It’s been that way the rest of the day. As he went down for his morning nap he warned me that the winds may continue to lighten but fortunately exactly the opposite happened! The winds freshened and we started to hit six and seven knots of speed. I even saw an eight! All of this is very important because we need to approach Beveridge Reef in good light and with light winds. So far it looks like we are on track to make it.

And as a special treat tonight the moon is full. There is nothing comparable to sailing under a full moon in nice wind. You can see the horizon, the ocean shimmers reflecting the moon and you can play with your own moon shadows. Lots to keep you entertained during a watch. The daytime sailing is pretty exhilarating too. The water is an incredible shade of indigo blue. I try to imagine what fish are swimming beneath us. We are in 12000 feet of water (so why can’t we catch a fish?)!

And these conditions make it easy to relax and read a book without worrying about getting pooped on by breaking waves. Bob finished “This Thing of Darkness” and I am halfway through James Michener’s Hawaii. Both books talk about the areas we have been and are sailing through. I love it when I can truly picture what the author is describing.

Sixes and Sevens, keep ’em coming!

Here we are on another two and a half day long leg of the journey. This time to a small reef in the middle of the Pacific Ocean that’s only just barely charted. On the chart and on the GPS it’s just a little blob with no features. Barely above water. Should be interesting.

The alarm went off at 0400. The first thing I was aware of was the wind howling in the rigging. It was expected, but never a fun thing to wake up to knowing that you’re leaving a warm bed for an unknown ocean. What was it going to be like once we got out of the lee of the island? We jumped up pretty quickly. Ann made coffee and closed portholes and hatches. I set up the wind vane, readied the halyards and cleared the foredeck in preparation for slipping the mooring lines. It’s becoming a pretty well-rehearsed show. (FYI – our trip odometer passed 7,000 miles today!)

After a slug of coffee and gulping down a banana nut muffin that Ann made the night before, we started the engine. Once again the howling in the rigging seemed louder as we prepared to leave. The waves were supposed to be 3 meters. Would they be steep and breaking in this wind? We didn’t take any chances and dressed warmly and added a layer of foul weather gear, PFDs with harnesses and tethers just in case.

Charisma “sails” back and forth at anchor and mooring which means she turns about 30 degrees or so to either side of the wind as the gusts come through. We had two mooring lines and had to time letting them go to a swing to starboard so we would be turning away from Orcinius who was next to us on the port side. I was watching the swings and when I had timed them in my head I told Ann, “On the next swing to starboard I’m letting loose the lines”. Her job would be to steer us around in a 180 degree starboard turn so as to miss Orcinius as well as the reef that was right in front of us and the bigger reef about a ¼ mile to our right that was hidden in the dark although we could hear the waves crashing ashore. OK, the swing started. I dropped the starboard line as it went slack and pulled it aboard. As we swung through the wind to starboard, I also let slip the port line, signaled Ann from the foredeck that we were free and she took care of the rest. We next had to drift on downwind a bit to make room to turn upwind and put up the sails. Given the fact that we would be cutting across the fairly large seas on an angle and with the wind in the mid-twenties, I decided we’d start with just the staysail and storm trysail. That combo should give us about 6 knots boatspeed and still be easy for the wind vane to steer. So up the storm trysail, up the staysail, then a turn downwind, sheet both in, engine to neutral and we’re off. We hit 6 knots right away. Good news there. Now we expectantly waited to see what the seas would be like as we moved beyond the protective lee of the island.

Turned out not too big a deal. The size was (and still is as I write this 12 hours later) impressive, but they for the most part weren’t breaking, so we are surging down them at 6-7+ knots. The wind hasn’t been bad either after the first four or five hours. It’s now down in the high teens and I’ve taken the staysail down and we have the full 130% jib rolling us forward. I’ve left the storm trysail up instead of the main since we’re going fast enough right now and don’t need the extra hassle of reefing and unreefing as conditions change.

So, there we are. The big decisions of the cruising day. Other than that we’re been reading our books and watching the larger waves loom up behind us. Always impressive sights to see huge walls of water come up behind until you find your neck craning as you look UP at the top of the wave overhead, and then see how Charisma just lifts up and over easy as you please.

There’s a beautiful almost full moon shinning a lot of light tonight although right this minute it’s behind some clouds. Dark, light, dark, light….that’s going to be the theme for tonight. Oh, here it comes out again.

As I say out here; simple pleasures.

Farkle!

Sounds a little racy, but it’s just a game. Ann gave a set to our family here on Palmerston and taught them to play and a day later everyone is still playing to howls of laughter.

As for today a few miscellaneous notes:

We heard the radio at 0400 this morning and realized John from Orcinius was talking to a boat that was trying to come into the mooring area in the dark. There were some language issues so they were not getting the message of where to go and you could hear the reef just a hundred yards or less from the mooring, so they were understandably “shy” about coming too close. We used the universal language and just shone our million candlepower floodlight on the mooring float. They got the message and after a couple tries, there was sustained 24 knots of wind making slow speed boat handling difficult, were able to snag the mooring. OK, now we can go back to sleep.

We also had some fun (this was actually yesterday) deploying a life raft. Our host family had a salvaged life raft that they wanted to deploy lest it do so unexpectedly someday, but they were afraid there might be a radio beacon inside. After looking at it-a six man Avon in a canister-I assured them there wouldn’t be one and said I’d open it. Everyone took cover afraid the top might blow off while I pulled the lanyard. The top did blow off, but only a foot or so as the life raft, with the now deployed CO2 cartridge blowing it up emerged from its carefully packed place in the canister. It took about 30 seconds or less to completely inflate. Once complete we started going through the stuff in the raft. Mostly packaged water, a fishing kit, signaling mirror and other survival stuff. Our host family is going to clean the raft up and let the kids play in it like a tent, so it’s now sitting around the side of the house out by some palm trees (but not too close lest the coconuts will fall on the kids heads-a very present danger around here).

Since we plan to leave in the morning around 0400, Ann took a last walk around the perimeter of the island with the two new yachties (that’s what the Palmerstons affectionately call us all) that have arrived in the last two days and I spent some more quality time in my hammock under the trees on the beach. With a book of course, it wouldn’t do to just goof. (My little friend, John – 4 years old, actually asked permission to “walk the yachties on the beach”. Classic!)

Our next leg to Beveredge Reef is 284 miles which at 5.5 knots should take just a little over 48 hours. We should easily be able to make that speed in the first 24 hours with the wind looking to be in the 20 knot range, but it will decrease in the second 24 hours, so we’re leaving early enough that we can slow down and still get there before dark even if we average a bit below 5 knots for the trip.

So early to bed for an early rise and this day’s entry is now complete 😉