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?

Monday, no, Tuesday. No, no, wait, Wednesday is going to perfect. ARRGGHH!

The South Pacific Convergence Zone (SPCZ) has moved down on top of Fiji which means the weather forecasting is all but out the door. One day, it looks like there’s going to be a tropical depression (no Bueno), the next day looks good to go, then the next shows torrential rain and headwinds.

Bottom line: I don’t want to head out on an over 1200 mile voyage with such uncertainty. Weather is enough of a crap shoot without the added uncertainty of the SPCZ. So we sit…and wait. This is all exacerbated by the fact that there are probably a dozen other boats around here all ready to head back and literally everyone has an opinion and it’s usually; “Ah, you should have left yesterday”. Well my response; “I’ll leave when I think it’s safe and we’ll have a good ride. YOU can leave when you want”.

The next possible window by my calculation looks to be Monday. Not to jinx it, but this one looks pretty decent, so we’re going to plan for it.

In the mean time Murphy has come aboard. We were running the engine today to charge the batteries a bit given the paucity of sun to power the solar panels, and I heard a gurgle, burp and the raw water exhaust quit flowing. This is the main cooling system for the engine, so I shut the engine down immediately. It was after my shower around 5PM, so I’m not going to start digging around until tomorrow, but suffice to say, this is a major issue. It may be simple like a plastic bag sucked into the intake, or something in the strainer. Or, it it might be a bigger deal like a broken impeller. I replaced the impeller in NZ in March, so if it’s that it’s likely due to the pumice fields we have occasionally seen. There are active volcanos in these waters and you run through floating pumice from time to time. It’s possible for the bits of abrasive pumice to get through the strainer and into the raw water system and wear down the impeller prematurely (they are supposed to last at least 500 engine hours).

Oh well. At least we won’t be bored sitting here waiting.

By Ann…
So Ann says to Bob, ” Are you going to mention the picture update in the blog tonight?”
Bob says, “What blog? Nothing is happening.”

How can that be? As I sip my evening Charisma I feel the exhaustion melting into my soul! So what did we do today? More preparations!

Specifically we have another batch of Ginger Beer, fresh baked cookies (hidden from Bob), and some more hard-boiled eggs ready. And more important to you, our favorite readers…pictures uploaded to the blogs from Lautoka forward. Everything takes time and everything is important.

But not too important for parades! This afternoon we heard a band playing on the dock opposite us. It was a good band so must be the Suva Police Band. I stuck my head out the companionway and confirmed my suspicions…it was the Police Band. I have missed them before and did not want to miss them again so off I went.

Fiji Band.

The Minister of Tourism, I think, was “christening” a new route for one of the large Captain Cook Cruise Ships. And the band was there to celebrate. I asked around and unfortunately the new route is through the Lau Group. We checked out their website and for about $8500 FJ per person, you can get a stateroom for the eleven night cruise through the Lau Group! The Lau Group is where Fuluga is. Fortunately this ship can not truly get into the narrow passes necessary to see the pristine Lau that we have seen. But they will be fortunate enough to see it from the bow of the big ship, a few miles off shore.

This is where cruising tops those big cruise ships, the up close and personal touch. Just sad to us to imagine coming out of the pass at Fuluga and seeing one of these monsters. But for some people it is as close as they will get. We count our blessings…cruising the Lau on Charisma…priceless.

But the Suva Police Band was wonderful. I ran over to take pictures and was personally greeted by the Minister of Tourism as well as at least half of the band members. After they left the dock they set up in the terminal and continued to play with such joy I could not leave. Good thing because then I would have missed the invite to dance with one of the band members! Yep, I was invited to shake a leg with the police! No witnesses unless the TV news camera got us, but the locals enjoyed my efforts!

It was a fun break to preparations. We are expecting to go into the Nadi Market tomorrow for the balance of fresh provisions, return to Charisma to do laundry and complete our ever dwindling list (it started covering seven -three inch post-it notes and is down to one and a half). The remaining items are just last minute reminders to stow the dinghy, plug the anchor chain hole, put away the BBQ…last minute stuff. Then off to Vuda Point, just a skip to the next bay, and check out on Thursday!

NZ, are you ready for Charisma?!

Last night I was just laying in the cockpit staring at the stars and moon when I looked at our flag fluttering in the rigging and noticed-really took note-that it was the flag of the Kingdom of Fiji! “Holy crap!” thought I. Are we really here in Fiji!

It was just one of those wonderful moments when you realize a life long dream isn’t a really a dream-you’re living it. Sometimes I fall into a complacency about being on Charisma. This is after all our home. When you’re down below, it feels and looks the same as it was back in Berkeley. Accordingly, it doesn’t always feel like we’re in a exotic tropical location. Then (fortunately) something like the Fiji flag suddenly reminds me how amazingly lucky we are. We are here. In Fiji. Living the dream.

OK, enough introspection-I know you all just want to know: “What did you do today?”. Well, our days right now are not as exotic as our location.

We did boat work.

We’re getting her ready for the 1200 or so mile long ocean crossing back to New Zealand. As we have found from our two previous trips along this sometimes treacherous ocean, this is a serious passage with the potential for some “memorable” conditions. We have to make sure that all systems are ready. Here’s a few of the things we’ve been doing to get ready. Some don’t sound too exciting, but attention to detail means when things get ugly, we can concentrate on sailing the boat not fixing stuff that’s breaking due to lapsed maintenance.

-Replaced a broken bilge pump switch. We’ve been turning it on manually, but when conditions are bad is when you forget to do it and then next thing you know the water is up to the floorboards.
-Checked all the nav lights. Deck lights, tri-color, steaming light, compass light, deck light and the mast mounted strobe.
-Checked engine oil level
-Drained engine fuel filter. Checked for sludge/water.
-Sealed port side anchor chain. Will do same for starboard after we leave. We put modeling clay in the hole where the chain goes through the deck. In tough conditions when we’re burying the bow in the big waves, a frightening amount of water makes its way through these spots if they are not plugged.
-Cleaned all porthole and hatch gaskets, replaced one and put silicone grease on all the seals for water tightness. These things are famous for leaking when big waves hit the cabin sides or wash over the cabin top. It’s not the end of the world if they leak, but it’s one of those things that start to wear you down. Your clothes get wet, the bed gets wet, etc. You get the picture.
-Went up and down boat at deck level looking at all fittings, cotter pins, screws, swages-anything that looks loose or worn gets replaced.
-Checked battery on emergency Radio in ditch bag and repacked bag to ensure all contents still present.
-Changed water maker filter
-Greased winches on mast and windlass. Cleaned salt accumulation off winch pawls (they were sticking) and oiled same.
-Rigged storm sail sheets
-Rigged storm trys’l and secured to mast.
-Checked storm jib and prepared for deployment
-Repacked bow storage to ensure necessary emergency gear is accessible and not “buried” under non-essential gear after a season of cruising.
-Greased and adjusted steering cables under deck. Tightened steering quadrant bolts (some were loose after many thousands of miles of our passage from Berkeley)
-Updated Spreadsheet identifying and locating all equipment, spares and ships stores
-Filled out and emailed our “pre-entry” forms to NZ Customs. They require at least 48 hours advance notice. We send these via email and then update our ETA via short wave radio when we’re under way and close enough to give an accurate estimate.
-Started cooking projects that will eventually include: hard boiled eggs and pasta salad for snacks (especially good at 2AM when sugary snacks put you to sleep), cookies (for morale), pre-made tuna salad for sandwiches, egg, bacon, vegetable muffins for breakfast and snacks. Next to come will be the “day before” cooking. We make a big stew in the pressure cooker that serves as the first night dinner and second day lunch. This way we don’t have to cook for the first two days which is when you are most prone to seasickness. Ann also just finished a big, yummy, banana bread.

Preparing "Charismuffins"...

...easy to heat, portable, mini-omelettes for the passage.

Anyway, there’s actually a bunch of other random stuff that we’re doing (not the least of which is checking the weather about three times/day for the route to see when the window will open), but it would get too tedious to read much less write. 😉

So, we’re counting down the days. It’s raining right now and projected to potentially really pour tomorrow. We’re thinking maybe Thursday will be a good window to leave. In the mean time in between the rain squalls we’ll catch the bus into town and pick up our final, final supplies. The fresh stuff. Fruits and veggies for the planned 8-10 day voyage.

Nothing to it.