Some sail repair. Getting the sail to go through the machine was a real challenge, but the result looks pretty good.

Nice to be in smooth water anchored off Big Mama's on Pangai Motu (note full moon on upper right)

Ya gotta love a place called; Big Mama's Yacht Club

Big Mama and Ann enjoying the evening

Big Mama's yacht registry. Note we are the last name to fit on the 2012 list (upper right)

Yes, we’re anchored at Pangai Motu, just off Big Mama’s. More about her later. She could be a character out of the movie South Pacific (and her husband Earl).

But you’re probably wondering; “So, what about that big storm?”. Well let me tell you, we met gale. And she wasn’t nice.

We’ve been feeling pressured to go south for about a week. Everyone knew there was some weather coming. What no one knew was how big is going to be? Most, including us, thought it would be some rain and some wind and that the wind would clock around on the west side of the dial which makes 90% of the anchorages in the Ha’apai Group untenable. So we were planning to stay as long as possible and then use the north and west shift to get south. What we didn’t count on was the convection-or in plain speak-thunderstorms. Basically, the SPCZ, or South Pacific Convergence Zone paid us a visit. It’s like the ITCZ that we experienced back in April coming across from Mexico through the equator. It is always roaming around here but is usually a bit more north and west but sometimes drops down into these parts. Like on Friday. I have to say, it kicked our butts and a number of others. People have been dragging in here for the last 24 hours who stayed out because they were a little behind us and couldn’t quite get in by dark. So…like we almost had to do, they hove to all night and rode out the end of the storm. We stayed pretty close to the entry through the reef and as soon as there was a break, we blasted inside. Once in, there were more squalls and heavy rain until late in the night, but for us it didn’t matter. We were anchored and in the bar at Big Mama’s. For others, not so fun.

So, the trip itself leaving the Ha’apai Group started out a little tense and then went downhill from there. Most of the night in our anchorage we had 20 knot gusts and it was clear the wind was shifting north, which meant our anchorage was becoming very exposed. We got up at daybreak (0530 around here) and got ready to go. We were anchor up around 0615 or so and just getting the anchor up was a chore. With that kind of wind, the manual windlass isn’t strong enough and we have to motor up on the anchor. This requires a lot of coordination between me on the foredeck and Ann back at the helm. Fortunately we’ve gotten pretty good with our hand signals and knowing what each is doing, so as some others can occasionally be heard screaming at each other, we usually do some signals that “go forward”, “go right”, “go neutral”, etc and the anchor comes up quietly.

Once up, we motored our way out through the reef and shortly thereafter set the main with a double reef. Once set, we bore away to a very broad reach and set the jib with a deep reef. Even at 0700, it was blowing 20, gusting to 25. We were downwind doing 7 knots. This was going to be good since I planned the trip for 6 knots. As we got further south and later in the morning, the wind increased until it was mostly 25 to 30 knots, gusting to 35. I considered taking down the main and putting up the storm trysail, but was enjoying the 7-9 knots of boatspeed. I should have listened to myself.

We got 28 miles down the line when it was time to gybe for a more favorable angle on our destination. With Ann on the helm and me managing sails we furled the jib (it won’t gybe or tack across the stays’l stay and needs to be furled to go around it) and then pulled the main in to center the boom. Textbook perfect, the boom came in, Ann turned the boat and as the leech of the sail flipped over from one side to the other (in about 30 knots of wind), one of the seams just “zippered”. It was its time. We later found some rotten thread and apparently that’s what let go. Before I even let the boom out, I saw the damage and said to Ann, “We’ve lost the main”. It was still up, but split in two right across a seam about halfway between the second reef and the top of the sail. Bummer. So with bare poles (the jib was still furled) we were driving downwind in the building seas and 30+ knots wind doing 3-4 knots. I went up to the mast to pull the main down, but it was plastered to the rigging. “Head up!” I shouted to Ann, who immediately turned into the wind, which freed the sail from the rigging and down it came. I did a quick sea furl of the main to the boom and retreated back to the cockpit. Did I mention I had a PFD and harness by this point? You betcha!

So, no main, but no biggie. We often sail downwind with just the jib, so we rolled it out about 50% and were soon doing 6-7 knots. The problem at this point was the wind was up to 30, gusting 35 and the waves were rolling us such that the stove/oven was slamming from side to side. Turned out that action broke the propane line, but we didn’t find out about that until later when we were anchored and trying to cook something. Good thing we religiously leave the propane line turned off when we’re not cooking or we might have just blown up!

OK, so fast forward about 20 miles. We’re getting to our waypoint that lets us turn into Nuka’alofa. Problem was I’ve never been in there before, there are reefs all over the place, and the GPS in these parts can be off by ½ a mile or more. That’s all fine when the visibility is good, but just as we got within a mile of the turning point that would commit us inside the reefs, a huge, black cloud came up behind us. I told Ann, “We’re not going in there with zero visibility-I don’t trust the GPS route without some visual confirmation”. Neither of us were happy with that option, but such is cruising sometimes. So we set the storm trysail and hung on as the big, black, cloud hit. It was monsoon time. Rain so hard you couldn’t see and the wind just went up and up. I saw over 40 knots when I had a chance to glance at the wind gauge. We later spoke with some other folks who were in the area and they said they saw 48 knots. It’s safe to say, the wind was strong. Fortunately the main had already ripped and was secured and we had the storm sail up, so we just hove to. We were sitting comfortably doing about 1.5 knots sideways. It’s amazing how the seas just aren’t a problem. We spoke with another boat who was out there in the area at the same time but not hove to. They were taking waves over their stern and having a much worse time of it, so our technique seems to be working well as we were pretty comfortable.

Fast forward a bit more and while we were wet and windy, we were stable and rode out the stormy weather until the wind turned westerly. Funny how it went from stormy north to mild southwest in about ten minutes, but we were very happy when it did. I was getting ready for a night at sea, hove to south of Tongatapu in order to stay clear of the reefs, but when the wind change, the visibility also increased and we sped toward Nuka’alofa, through the passage, inside the reefs and in a couple hours were securely anchored. Whew. A little beat up, but better now than on the passage to NZ.

Today, we got the sewing machine out and spent most of the day repairing the mainsail. To be fair it’s 25 years old. I think it might be reaching itss endpoint and I’m going to look into a new sail, but we need to get to NZ with this one, so we spent all day on the sewing machine (actually Ann did-I helped maneuver the sail around so it would fit through the machine). The tough part was the seam that ripped. We had to tape the seam back together and then it gets triple stitched back together. The seam is probably 15 feet long, so fixing it wasn’t trivial. Once that was done we had to repair the leech line (the outside edge) which tore apart. Then we went through the entire sail and stitched every spot where there was any sign of broken thread. Took all day.

Now we’re sitting (and yawning from fatigue) watching the almost full moon right out back of the cockpit marveling how lucky we are to be here and experiencing such beauty and adventure.

Last night we had a spectacular time at Big Mama’s Yacht Club. Big Mama and is a wonderful Tongan woman who is as big as her name. Her heart is also big. When I spent some time with her I found her philosophy wonderful. As she puts it, “You cruisers are my family and I just want to make you feel at home”. She does indeed do that. Last night she put on a feast that was free to all the cruisers. Some of the best Tongan food we’ve had (picture a roast pig on the table, as well as taro, marinated raw fish, octopus, seaweed ,breadfruit and much more) along with a 10-piece Tongan band. It was a night to remember for sure. And for some of the folks present, it was a night they will never remember if you know what I mean. So fun! I should also add that they are so nice, almost before we settled in for a beer at Big Mama’s after we were anchored and dinghied in to say “hi” to all our friends, Earl came over to our table and said, “I heard you were having trouble with your stove. I have a portable one you can use if you want”. Wow-we don’t even remember mentioning it to people and Earl and Big Mama were already working on solving our problem. That’s the kind of pure kindness and hospitality you see down here.

So, a bunch of us are anchored here waiting for the right weather window to start our final leg of this season from Tonga to New Zealand. It’s so fun to be all gathered in the same place at the same time with people who we have now known for the last year. It’s also interesting as this leg is known as the “tough” leg. Gales, storms, cyclonic depressions and all kinds of terrible stories, so everyone is a little on edge trying to decide the optimum time to leave. The reality is that many will have a great voyage to NZ, but because of the timing of the low pressure/fronts that sweep through the area just north of New Zealand, many will also confront at least one full gale on the way since it’s a 7-9 day voyage and the fronts come through on a schedule that is more like 5 or 6 days. The strategy is to sail through a weakening front somewhere around 30 degrees south where it’s weakest and then “scoot” into NZ before the next front hits. More on that as our story progresses.

That’s it for now. We’re done with dinner. I can hear Ann yawning from up in the cockpit (she’s been working her butt off) and she just handed me a bunch of her ginger cookies- that by the way have become so legendary among “the fleet” that everyone either wants the recipe or just to try THE ginger cookie they have heard about.

Life continues to be good despite blown mainsails and broken stoves.