By Ann Position: 28 degrees, 03 minutes south; 171 degrees, 53 minutes east 130 mile day

I know that no one has been able to create a time capsule that works outside of Hollywood because if they had I would have invested in one. It would sure make long passages easier.

Bob enjoys the long passages. He gets to work his magic coaxing Charisma to sail at her optimal performance. It is pure magic. I love watching Bob come on watch, tweak this sail, play with the monitor, adjust a traveler, tweak another sail by just an inch (I am not kidding) and suddenly we are going a knot or two faster. (As I am writing this he stuck his head out of the companion way and tweaked a traveler on his way back to bed – and we are going a half knot faster.) As the guy announcing the regatta rally race in Va’vau last year kept saying, “And this next boat, Charisma is not only beautiful but boy is she well sailed!” Bob and Charisma have a zen relationship that is unmatched. Now that I am his wife I am no longer threatened! It is a thing of beauty.

But for me the passages are about marking progress. We start out knowing that this trip to New Zealand from Fiji is about 1100 nautical miles. That’s if we are able to stay on the rhumb line, which rarely is the case. In my head I start breaking the 1100 miles into days. We can easily do 120 miles a day. Okay, so we have ten days to get there and I can start counting it off on my fingers. It’s like the last 10 weeks of pregnancy. Once I could count the weeks on my fingers I knew the end was in sight and I would make it.

I came up with a great idea to count hours this trip. Because 240 hours is less than 1100 miles, right? It is all a head game. But I found that the hours take a long time to pass. So I go into the Charisma Time Capsule. You thought I was unable to find one, right? It is not as fancy as the Hollywood type. In fact it is the quarterberth on Charisma. We take turns off watch sleeping here. So when I am off watch (especially as I come off the 9pm to 3am watch) I can put in my ear plugs and snuggle down into my pillow and switch on the time traveler button. When I wake up we will be about 30 miles closer to New Zealand! It is magical! And the miles go much faster when the time traveler is on.

Right now we are about 400 miles from New Zealand. A few more trips in my time capsule and we should be making landfall! I love time travel, I just wish it went faster! But then Bob wouldn’t get his zen time with Charisma. It’s all a compromise.

By the way, it has gotten colder as we have traveled south. Today was probably the last day in shorts and t-shirts. The night watches now include fleece jackets and sea boots. New Zealand calls.

From Bob: Last night was a bit squally. Clouds, rain and wind going from mid-teens to low twenties under the squall clouds. It’s never fun just huddled under the dodger waiting for the squall that blows 40. You never know which one, you just wait and deal.

Today, however, made up for it. Blue sky, blue water, you know the drill by now. It was interesting this morning literally sailing out of a cloud bank into the blue sky. I checked the barometer and sure enough, we have sailed into the high (1020). The wind hasn’t shifted yet, but it seems to be “thinking about it”. It’s trying to back into the east and give us a break. We get periods where we’re lifted 30 degrees to 150 degrees, but then it goes back to the old faithful; 180. The bearing from here to our waypoint where we hope to catch the downwind part of this trip is 163 degrees right now and 115 miles. Somewhere (in theory) between “here” and “there” the wind will lift and we’ll be able to just head straight for the waypoint. But for now, the wind holds us to our course due south. Boring.

But, boring is good in this part of the world where the ocean can become treacherous in a moment’s notice. We’ve had our share of excitement the last two times down and up, so boring is OK with me.

Tomorrow is the crux day. I hope to be able to report that we’ve moved onto the downwind part of the ride toward Opua. Cross fingers and check back then!

Position: 26 degrees, 11 minutes south; 172 degrees, 48 minutes east 108 miles in last 24 hours

Our daily distance doesn’t show it (we measure it from 3PM to 3PM), but today was a smoking fast day. Starting around sunrise, we unfurled the jib, eased off about 15 degrees and Charisma took off like a shot. We’ve been doing 8-9 knots all day long.

That’s the good news. The not as good news? We have been making somewhat more west than I’d like to see. The wind is from the SSE so we have no choice, but it puts us fairly far out west when we come to the point where we need to turn in to New Zealand. Hopefully, we hit the weather window right and get to our turn point at the same time as a low comes over the North Island on Tuesday. We’re crossing fingers and toes because if we hit this right, we’ll have a north wind driving us downwind the last 300 miles into Opua.

So cross fingers with us and watch. The next two days will tell the story. There’s a “slot” that we hope to hit that is at about 30 degrees south latitude and it goes from about 169 to 173 degrees east longitude (240 miles wide). There’s a high that’s passing over just below this spot and the top of a low filling in behind it. If we hit this spot to the northwest of New Zealand, we then turn about 60 degrees to port and start a downwind slide with pretty good winds in the 20 knot range, but coming from behind us so not near as difficult as the headwinds we’ve been encountering all the way thus far.

Other than that the last 24 hours has included the above mentioned smoking ride as well as a good six hours where we just sat with very little wind. There was just enough, maybe 3-4 knots to maintain steerage and 1-3 knots boatspeed. We probably only covered 6 miles in that 6 hours. We also dodged a bullet. Last night at about sunset we saw a squall line up ahead. The radar confirmed there were squalls (i.e. heavy rain) inside the line and it was about 12 miles away. Miraculously, we were positioned just west enough that we actually sailed around the west end of the line of squalls. Once past, we had glorious stars most of the night. Sometimes we get lucky

Stay tuned for the race to the finish.

Position:24 degrees, 44 minutes south; 174 degrees, 42 minutes east. 117 miles in the last 24 hours.

After three days of strong, blustery winds and bumpy seas yesterday lightened up and last night/early morning the wind came down significantly. That means everything about sails, trim and steering had to be adjusted.

First, the double reef on the main came out. One reef at 0300 and the second at 0400. Once that’s done, all three sails have to be re-trimmed. Once re-trimmed for light air there’s less force so you have to adjust Wilson the wind vane for less weather helm. Once this is done you go back to the sails and fine tune them for balance. Then you sit and watch for 5 minutes or so and see how the boat’s responding with all the changes. Trim a bit more and watch some more, then likely a final fine trim and off she goes happy to still be making five knots or so with the lower wind strength. Also the wind has gone aft of the beam a bit so we’re sailing flatter and the seas have come down by half. And the stars are out.

All in all, a pretty nice ride.

At 0430 while doing the final retrimming session, I went below to make some tea. Two minutes and the flame went out. Propane’s out. Good thing we filled the other one in Fiji. Turns out two 20 pound tanks have lasted us five months. So, I headed out to the cockpit tank locker with a wrench to change the tanks. Thank goodness it waited until today to run out. This would have been an ugly job yesterday with the wind and waves.

At this point we’re coming into the middle part of the voyage. This is the part where we’re going to see a lot of wind changes as the weather systems come across the Tasman Sea. Already today the wind shifted around to the north (it’s been south trending to east since leaving Fiji) and gone really light at about 7 knots. I jibed mid-day and we’re now on starboard tack and heading about 210 True making 2.5 to 3 knots. The weather forecast has the wind shifting into the south and increasing to 10-20 knots in the next 24 hours so we’ll again have a pretty major change. Our choices are going to get interesting as we try and position ourselves for the final push into New Zealand. Too far to the west and we waste time going too far out of our way. Too far east and we get headwinds the final days. It all depends what the final weather system looks like as we approach.

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.

Got up at 0630. Out the marina, coffee and granola bar in hand heading 6 miles away, for Vuda Point to check out. Success. Got in before anyone else and out by 1100 at which point there were four other boats in line waiting to get into the dock which only fits one at a time. The early entry paid off! Then headed south 18 miles to Momi Bay where where we’re anchored in 17 feet, just inside the barrier reef. Outside, the ocean awaits.

Charisma at Vuda Point waiting for Customs clearance.

Good bye Fiji!

Momi Bay at sunset

Now after Charismas and a nice steak dinner we’re just hanging, waiting for tomorrow when we sail through the reef (planning for 0800 departure)for 1200 miles to New Zealand. We’re planning 10 days, but there are some headwinds in the forecast for the later 1/3 of the trip, so who knows-but that’s kinda part of the adventure-not knowing exactly when…

We’ll post our progress each evening, so please join us. We’re looking forward to your thoughts and comments to keep us company along the way.

(This one’s for my Dad who is a retired policeman)

We went for a walk today and on the way back ran into these two nice Fijian policemen.  Thought I’d include a photo since it’s not everywhere you see policemen wearing dresses.  OK, the “dress” is called a sulu.

Fijian policemen. No, I'm not handcuffed, just holding my shopping bag behind my back so it wouldn't ruin the picture.

By Ann…

The predicted rains are here. Not really heavy rains, just consistent rain. We woke up thinking we would go visit the Hindu Temple in Nadi, but the rains changed our plans.

Taking advantage of the rains, Bob spent the morning enjoying The Cruise of the Snark by Jack London and I found ways to stay busy. I busied myself cleaning various areas on the boat that tend to collect stuff. You know, like THAT drawer in your kitchen.

I also I made a triple batch of hummus as garbanzo beans will be taken as we check into New Zealand. I figure if they are hummus we will get to keep them. I can’t believe I can make hummus from garbanzo beans without a blender. But it sure tastes good!

Just as I finished the hummus Bob announced that the rain had let up. So we took advantage of the break and took the bus into Nadi ($1.15 Fijian, which is about $0.70 US) to see the Sri Siva Subramaniya temple. It is the largest Hindu Temple in the South Pacific. Per our guide book it is “the only thing worth seeing in Nadi”. So we went.

Entering the temple

The guide said they paint it every 12 years. Must be a huge job!

Part of the ceiling inside. The pictures depict stories of the Hindu faith.

We took the Bula Bus and then walked through Nadi to the temple. It was visible about three blocks away because of the brilliant colors. But get up close and those pretty colors are on a plywood board. It was like approaching a country fair. So one dimensional. Luckily that was the outside border.

The temple itself has vibrant paintings all over the ceilings and walls and multiple altars to a variety of beings that just confused me. We removed our shoes, wore a sulu, coved our shoulders, took the tour and left somewhat confused. We know nothing about Hindu religious beliefs and our tour guide was not very good at explaining it so we just enjoyed the colors. And now we can say we saw it.

We had a nice time wandering the streets of downtown Nadi and stopped for fresh tomatoes at the market and came back to Charisma. Yep, we saw Nadi.

Now we can catch that Monday or Tuesday window to New Zealand! Weather permitting….

PS – yes, I went up the mast yesterday. I saw nothing to make us nervous and was able to oil the shims coming into the mast. Not a beautiful day but there was a nice breeze and a view of Port Denarau.

Ann's buddy on the boat next door.

View of Port Denarau.

It's a loooonnggg way down.

I wish all boat problems were this straightforward.

The raw water intake problem was a blockage. I opened the strainer (empty the lazarette of sundry stuff, climb in, close the seacock, unscrew strainer, all while sweating a lot in the cramped, hot quarters) this morning and found…a box fish! Yup, the poor little guy got too close to the intake and got sucked in. That must have been the little “burp” I swear I heard the engine make right before the cooling water stopped coming out of the exhaust. There are a bunch of them swimming around the dock, so we’ll have to keep our guard up. This is why you never leave the boat with the engine running. Five minutes or less and the engine would have been cooked if I hadn’t heard the “dry” exhaust sound and shut down the engine!

A box fish by the way looks like a box with a tail on it. Unlikely looking thing.

Anyway, on with the waiting. I think we’re going to send Ann up the mast later this morning to have a look at the rig. We have the time and she’s getting bored, so why not?