We sailed up to the entrance of the Nakema River and were tied to a mooring by 9:30 this morning. Just under eleven days to be the 64th boat to check into Savusavu this year. Yay! We are exhausted but happy to be here. Walked to the Vodafone booth to get the Internet going and were greeted by the taxi driver from last year. It’s fun to come back to familiar places. More details after a good night’s sleep!

Charisma safely tied up at the dock in Savusavu

Position: 17 degrees, 43 minutes south; 179 degrees, 54 minutes west

Tomorrow at 1230 will be eleven days since we left Marsden Point, New Zealand.

We’re on the final home stretch down the Koro Sea. We came through the reefs in the southwest Lau last night and all of today have just been on a very broad reach with single reefed main only down the Koro Sea. We are keeping the speed at roughly 5.5 knots as that puts us at the entrance to the reef outside of Savusavu at daylight (more or less). Then another hour to the river and we can tie up to a mooring with our Q-Flag (quarantine) and wait for customs, immigration and health who all come out to visit to clear us in. Then…SHOWERS! And a shave. My beard is driving me nuts.

Today threatened rain. There’s a convergence zone over Fiji/Tonga and we expecteded a very rainy day. However with the exception of the early hours from sunrise through about 10AM or so, the clouds have lifted a bit – not clear and sunny mind you, but not raining – and it’s been a fairly nice day. About 18 knots of wind from behind and mild temp.

That’s it for now. We’re tired, a bit beat up and bruised from the waves bumping us around the boat and just looking forward to a nice dinner ashore and a full, uninterrupted night’s sleep.

Position: 19 degrees, 45 minutes south; 179 degrees, 26 minutes west

(By Ann) No, it was not as bold and fierce as the “the Bear” that chased us a few nights ago. It was much gentler, but I saw it…and welcomed it. It was a sign from the heavens that tonight was going to be a glorious night!

It started with the new moon smiling at us just after sunset, right before it plunged into the horizon gone for the night. This is probably the first passage that we have made that has been moon-less. Not because of overcast skies but because the moon was waning. It quickly disappeared and our nights have been inky dark. But there is a benefit to this lack of moon. The stars up their game. Seriously, I have to work to find the Southern Cross because it is NOT the only bright star. Thousands of them up their game and sparkle brighter to make up for the lack of moonlight. And that was my second clue, after the smiling moon…a star winked at me about 10 PM just as my watch was getting tedious. But I caught it and winked back. Hello star! Thanks for the greeting! And so that is how our night played out. Moon-less but star filled. Charisma was sailing through the Milky Way on a beautiful beam reach playing in the light swell. Glorious.

The best way to enjoy all of it? I will admit, at day nine of this passage my rear end is getting tired of sitting, so I laid back in the cockpit and watched as the mast played connect the dots with the brilliant stars. Bob and I once were up at the family ranch as a full moon was rising and wanted to really see it so we went out at 11 PM and laid in the road leading up to the ranch, away from any hint of light, to fully appreciate the glory of the heavens. Not only was it quite chilly but the ground was really hard and there was no gentle rolling motion to accompany the display. And honestly, the display of stars at the ranch, depite being out in the country away from lights, does not compare to a moon-less night on the ocean. Words do not do it justice.

I walk out of the bathroom in the dark and head to the companionway and look up to see the helm glowing from the light of the compass dancing in front of a back drop of incredible glory. There is no way to capture the raw beauty in a photo. I will have to make a mental picture and remind myself of it often to keep it sharp.

Hello moon, hello stars, thanks for the notice that it was going to be a glorious night.

P.S. (From Bob) We just want to say “Happy Birthday” to my daughter, Kelly, who is 23 on the 31st AND is graduating from college in a couple weeks. Yay, Kelly!

Position: 21 degrees, 50 minutes south; 179 degrees, 07 minutes west

I was startled awake to the shout of; “FISH ON!” coming from somewhere in my dreams. As I shook myself into semi-consciousness I was vaguely aware that I was on a boat somewhere and someone was shouting about fish. As I became more fully awake it occurred to me it was us that were about to catch a fish! OK, time to get some shoes on and get out there.

Now I’m awake and heading up the companionway where Ann, with a grin from ear to ear is pulling the handline in. “I set the hook and it’s a Mahi!” Ann takes her fish and fishing seriously. Anyway, she pulled it in and we successfully boated it. A nice but not too big Mahi. All trimmed out it made four meals for the two of us, three of which are now in the refrigerator and one of which made a great dinner. Lightly marinated in some soy sauce, seared with Lemon Pepper and a tablespoon of olive oil, then steamed in it’s own juices.

Last night we motored for a while. We haven’t started the engine in eight days, but the wind completely quit so it was either just bounce around – the waves didn’t lay down – or make some distance. We ended up motoring from about 0130 until 0630 when the wind filled in again. Except it didn’t. I hoisted the sails and we sailed for a while, then a squall hit and we shortened sail, then the wind quit and I shook out the reefs. Back and forth, back and forth. The afternoon has been pleasant though with 18-20 on a close reach with jib, stays’l and double reefed main. In SF Bay I wouldn’t have a double reef with such relatively modest wind, but out here the winds are unpredictable from moment to moment and every cloud has the potential to kick the wind suddenly up to 30 knots for 10 or 20 minutes. So, we sacrifice a little speed for a lot of comfort by leaving the two reefs in for the gusts.

We’re 300 miles out of Savusavu today. We expect landfall on Monday as long as we can keep our speed up. The forecast is fairly good, but shows some convergence zone activity on Sunday – meaning rainy and possibly squally weather. As if we haven’t had enough of that already. Oh well, it’s all part of the adventure (I guess).

Position: 23 degrees, 44 minutes south; 178 degrees, 56 minutes west

Amazing sight, but I’ll tell you what I saw in a moment. To set this up – it’s getting warmer (finally) and the waves and wind have gone down, so this morning at sunrise I decided it would be a good day to start fishing. Out goes the handline with a squid-like lure.

Not 15 minutes from when I dropped it the indicator (a used clothspin) snapped off the lifeline indicating a fish on. Pulling in the handline I found a lovely looking but small Mahi. Too small I felt (about 2 feet) so I shook him off the hook and back he went. I held the hook out for about five minutes to make sure he was long gone – I’ve caught the same fish before.

OK, the amazing part. About fifteen minutes (around 0700) after I caught the first Mahi I’m just sitting enjoying the morning without lightning, rough seas and high winds and I’m just staring out at the water in the vicinity of the lure when I saw something that in 20,000 more miles of sailing I’ll probably will never see again. We were doing about six knots sliding down 6 foot waves and as I’m looking out at the water I saw a three to four foot Mahi come completely out of the water surfing toward the squid (my lure). He popped out about ten feet behind it zooming down at probably 20 knots. The rational side of my brain couldn’t even process what was happening, it was taking place so fast, but the emotional side was enthralled. “Big fish. Mahi. Dorsal fin fully extended. Irridescent blue and green glinting in the warm morning sunlight. Cavernous, gaping mouth fully open (in appearance, not unlike the front grill of a 1950’s Buick)”. Just before he hit the lure I remember the rational side of my brain catching up and thinking. “He can’t be on the line, it didn’t click!” Just then the clip snapped and the line slapped to the deck (later I found the hit had even bent the steel spring on the clip). Yes we had a fish most definitely on the hook.

The aftermath. The one problem is that it’s been six months since we’ve been fishing off Charisma with a handline. I forgot that I have to give the handline a “tug” to set the hook, so while I was busy furling the jib to slow the boat down and waking up Ann to help land Mr. Mahi…he jumped the hook. Oh well. We’ll keep fishing and hope for another one. In the meantime, hey, we have rice, dried peas and canned chicken for dinner.

The second “natural” event of the day was later in the afternoon. We’re 500 miles from any sort of land whatsoever (OK, there’s a reef that we’re passing right now – Minerva – but that doesn’t count) when a large bee comes flying in and lands in the cockpit. I’m thinking, “Hmmm, not many flowers out here, this guy’s a long way from home”. Anyway, he looks around a bit and then flies off. That was it. Nature messing with my head today.

Position: 26 degrees, 06 minutes south; 179 degrees, 07 minutes west (did 131 NM yesterday)

The wind has finally steadied and calmed down. Last night was still 25-30+, 9-12 foot waves, breaking and rain (at least there was no lightning). Not fun and it lasted until noon today, but at about that point it settled down to the current 15-18 with still impressive but long period waves and the sky is clear for now. Much nicer. We were able to set the jib on the pole opposite the 3rd reefed main and have been doing sixes and sevens and the knotmeter. Not bad.

We’re about 100 miles from Minerva Reef, but are not planning to stop as the weather doesn’t look that promising, so we’ll pass it close by – probably to the south and look to then head up a bit towards Savusavu as the waves moderate. Right now, our course is somewhat dictated by the size of the waves. If we angle too much across them the ride gets uncomfortable as the wind vane doesn’t “know” that it needs to compensate for angling across a 12 foot wave. So the waves are coming from the southeast, thus we’re going more or less northwest. By tomorrow they should diminish and let us head up 20 or so degrees and still have a comfortable ride.

So that’s it for now. Ann and I are tired and need a good night sleep. Last night the boat was throwing us around so much in the bunk we had to wedge ourselves between two seat back bolsters to try and keep our bodies from going airborne. Tonight the motion is much gentler.

P.S. Thanks to everyone who has been commenting on the blog. Your comments are getting to us and are fun to read. I know that I have to “approve” a few of them for you to see them on the blog, but I can’t do that until we’re in Savusavu and have an internet connection. So know that they are all making it to us and look for your comment to show up sometime early next week.

Position: 28 degrees, 11 minutes south; 179 degrees, 24 minutes west

It’s dark in the woods, but off in the dense darkness beyond where you’re standing you hear a low, menacing growl and see the flash of white teeth. Then you hear movement, huge paws on the forest floor coming your way. You see another glint of white teeth, this time much closer, then all of a sudden the teeth shine right in your face and at the same time a deafening roar fills you head and you smell its hot breath on your cheek.

Yup, we had lightning last night and that’s what it feels like. I can deal with the squalls– wind, waves, rain – but the lightning is so random it scares me. You can never tell when a billion electron volt bolt of energy is going to find its way to the only thing rising above the surface for a thousand square miles. Your boat’s mast. 54 feet of aluminum. One of the flashes was right above our heads with the thunderclap rattling our teeth at the same time the flash blinded our vision for about 15 seconds.

So…when I saw the huge, black cloud with lightning inside it bearing down on us I decided the best way to “outrun” it was to sit still. We hove-to. I think it was the right thing to do since we were going the same way as the squall front. If we had run with it we would have been in it for a long time as it slowly passed us. On the other hand, sitting still meant it would run past us and we would spend a shorter amount of time exposed to the lightning. We ended up being in the lightning for about an hour – seemed much, much longer. We stayed hove-to about four hours to let the worst of the squall line go past and give me some much needed rest (Ann was off watch having been on earlier in the evening).

Turns out we have just “clipped” the corner of a subtropical depression that is just to the southeast of us. It’s quite a ways away, but throwing some nasty weather anyway. Most of today has been in continuing squalls with rain and 25-30 knot winds. The only good part is the wind is finally coming from the south so we have “turned the corner” and are now heading toward Fiji. The GRIBS are showing winds from the south at 15-20. Hopefully this system we’re in will moderate tonight and we’ll get the better weather. We expect about five more days for arrival maybe Sunday.

Also hopefully no more bears.

Position: 29 degrees, 37 minutes south; 179 degrees, 21 minutes west (over the date line)

Being out here on the vast ocean between New Zealand and Fiji gives you a lot of time to think. Today I was thinking about Bob and his self-proclaimed Charlie Brown comparison. It is a good fit. We really do start out that bundled up and slowly as the weather warms up we lose a layer. Today I spent my watches without my foul weather jacket on. That’s big. (Bob, however got the watch with the major rain and squalls so had to still wear his). One day soon I may even change out of my long johns. But I don’t want to tempt fate so I am still in them.

The other item of warmth that relates to this blog that I have yet to abandon is my sea boots. These boots are easy to jump into when called to help. They keep my feet warm and dry. Only one problem….they seem to make my feet even bigger! Yes, I have big feet. When you put sea boots on them a whole different dance ensues…of course all choreographed to the song of Charisma that Bob shared the other night.

Well I wish it was that graceful but the truth is that it is not graceful at all. I am on watch, warm and cozy, tethered in. I get up to check for any traffic around us. As I step back down off of the bench and into the cockpit the tether wraps around my legs. Remember I just did a 360 degree traffic check. And then here comes the really graceful part….i try to descend the companionway steps to use the facilities.

It becomes comical watching me try to untangle these big feet from the tether and descend the stairs. No putting two feet on one step, they just won’t fit. So I shuffle to the side and hang onto the hatchway to free myself. Mind you, I would never give up the boots because of the great support that they provide when bracing myself in the bathroom. NEVER use the head on a boat in stocking feet when the boat is underway. It is just not safe and quite frustrating. Sea boots with non-skid soles. Essential.

So Big Foot reigns supreme until the weather is warm enough to change to my Teva sandals. Oh the little things that amuse me on passages.