SV Yohelah – Pacific Loop

Something you never get to do at home is hop in the water with your snorkel gear to check your anchor when it’s being fussy about setting. That’s just what I did yesterday after the third time we tried to get it to set and still weren’t sure it really was. We could see the bottom as we dropped and it looked like there was just rock over hardpan, and sure enough I think we were right. The anchor was wrapped in 90 degree turns around two bommies and just laying on it’s side on top of the rocks. The cruising guides called it a “fair weather anchorage”, which I guess means you don’t need more than the weight of your anchor and chain.

We’re in Raiatea where there’s a wreck inside the lagoon that we stopped to dive on. We took the dink over to the dive site after we anchored and found the visibility in the lagoon really crappy. Even after I got in the water and snorkeled down as deep as I could, I couldn’t see any evidence of the 200′ ship in 80′ of water. There seems to be some sort of a bloom in the water, maybe even jellyfish. 100′ visibility in the South Pacific isn’t unusual, and I couldn’t see probably more than 15′.

About 3:00 the wind started picking up from the southeast and the waves started building in the lagoon. I quickly checked the weather forecast and discovered that nope, this wouldn’t be a “fair weather” night, so we opted out of the pretty little anchorage in front of the motu. Not surprisingly, when we got ready to up anchor we realized all the other cruising boats but one had left and there were only charter boats remaining.

From what we’ve seen so far, the Society Islands seem to be the best of the Marquesas and Tuamotus. The islands are beautiful towering green mountains, with high peaks, sharp cliffs and steep faces, which are surrounded by coral reefs with a lagoon between the reef and the shoreline that’s generally deep enough to navigate through. We have beautiful bays to anchor in with no ocean swell. Of course you lose the isolation of the Tuamotus and Marquesas, so if it’s peace and quiet you’re looking for you don’t come here for that. But if it’s a lovely anchorage that’s not rolly with stunning islands behind you, right here is the place to be.

Surprisingly to us it gets really cold here at night. We didn’t notice this in Tahiti, but as soon as we got to Moorea we found very chilly nights and mornings. Chilly, of course, is truly a relative term. But let’s just say there are no fans running at night and the hatches are closed for the first time in years. Maya goes out to play usually about 3 or 4 in the morning, and when she came in this morning (in the front portlight directly onto our bed) she was soaking wet from the heavy dew. She’s the only cat I’ve ever had who just doesn’t care that she’s wet, and plays in the sink with the faucet running. Needless to say, with as hot as it gets during the day, we’re enjoying the refreshingly cool nights.

I was sitting in the cockpit enjoying the cool evening air two nights ago when Maya found a lone wasp out late to chase. My hair was unpinned and hanging down, and she chased it right into my hair. Truly a big hair nightmare to have a wasp tangled up in it. Neither of us was very happy, both before he stung me in the face and after.

Today we’ll head over to Bora Bora and stay there until our visas run out. We’ve got about 10 days left and want to get rested up and enjoy Bora Bora for a while before we have to leave. It’s called “the most beautiful island in the South Pacific”, so we have high expectations after what we’ve seen so far. There’s a dive site called “manta dance” inside the lagoon where the manta rays come play, and we’re looking forward to that. I haven’t seen any manta rays up close yet and want a chance to add that to the list of amazing things we’ve enjoyed here in French Polynesia.

Teresa

Raiatea is here

I was in the cockpit last night after dinner enjoying the cool evening air and the end of a very good book when I suddenly heard a local speedboat come flying past our boat. It was so close to that us I was amazed it hadn’t hit our dinghy, which we hoist off the port bow at night. It was racing through the dark anchorage towards shore where the locals keep their boats. The moon was full but the sky was overcast, and the water in the harbor was flat calm. I can’t estimate exactly how fast he was going because I don’t travel in speedboats very often, but I would guess it was between 30 and 40 knots.

Seconds after he passed us we heard the noise of the first collision as he slammed into a small boat anchored behind us. Rob came running up with our spotlight and we started to head towards the dinghy to go to the scene of the accident and see if we could lend assistance. Other folks in the harbor were doing the same, as the noise could be heard on the quiet night throughout the bay. Suddenly we heard the boat heading back towards us. We were both astounded that anyone could have survived a collision with that much force, much less turn the boat around and try to escape.

But that’s exactly what he was trying to do. As it passed us the second time on the way back out of the harbor, Rob aimed the spotlight at the boat to see if there was a driver or if it was just a runaway boat situation. Soon it veered towards us and slammed into our bow. We were still in the cockpit and could see that it was going to ram us, but there was nothing we could do but scream (I screamed, Rob didn’t). It came up over the toerail and to a stop with the front 3′ of it extended over our foredeck.

We looked forward, saw the driver sitting in the seat and I wasn’t sure at that moment if we was still alive. He had flown through his windshield and back into the seat when he collided with our boat. He attempted to back off our boat and escape again, but Rob yelled, went forward and grabbed his bow line. Within seconds there were two dinghys at our boat with cruisers lending aid. The driver was bleeding profusely from his arm where it had been gouged in the windshield. He had to be convinced to get into their dinghy and go ashore, and passed out from lack of blood before he even got there. I had called for help on the VHF and people were already arranging for an ambulance and the Gendarme.

After the first two dinghys had taken him off his boat it started taking on water. As it began to sink our boat started to list to port. I again called on the radio for any help from the anchorage, as our dinghy was pinned up sideways and we were unable to get off our boat and do much. Again, more cruisers came to our aid. Soon the boat stopped taking on water and everything settled. Moments after that a cruiser who spoke French came with two officers from the Gendarme and helped translate for us.

We were concerned that no one knew if there had been other passengers in the boat who might have been ejected in either collision. We looked down at where the speedboat was laying over our toerail and saw a little kid’s shoe which had come out of the bow and was laying on our deck. We were worried there may be other passengers in the bow of the boat, but a local in a canoe with a light did confirm that there was no one else up inside the bow. The kid’s shoe did totally creep us out, though, but thankfully it was empty.

The Gendarme took our statements and called for the police/fire boat to come and remove the speedboat from our deck. The police boat arrived several minutes later, tied lines around the bow and stern and towed the boat to the shoreline and left it in shallow water. The Gendarme went to the other boat, took their statement and the statement of a witness in a third boat anchored between us, then instructed us to be at their office first thing in the morning.

After they pulled the boat away from ours we got a look at the damage to our boat. Amazingly (or not so amazingly I guess, knowing how strong our boat is), the damage was superficial. There appears to be no damage to either the toerail or the hull. Three of our deck stanchions are bent, one beyond repair, and one of our lifelines is destroyed. At this time that seems to be the extent of the damage. We were much luckier than the other boat, which was left with a 10″ hole in the side and extensive damage to the toerail and cockpit combing.

Our biggest issue at this point is time, or more importantly lack of it. Our visas expire in six days, we now have a boat without lifelines that we feel is not safe to take to sea, and a potentially difficult 500+ mile passage to Rarotonga. When Rob finished giving his statement to the Commandant of the Gendarme he asked for an extension to our visa to give us time to find parts and make the repairs. The commandant explained that it was very difficult to get an extension, and called Papeete to find out what we documents we needed to provide. The list includes several items, such as proof of medical insurance, money in the bank, an estimate for repairs to the boat, and importantly, a letter in French explaining the circumstances for the extension request.

I asked the commandant what would be the fine if we were caught without an extension, since it would be his employees that would catch us here in Bora Bora. I explained that we would not leave his harbor until our boat was repaired and made safe again. At that point he told us to bring the documents to his office in the morning and he would write the letter to the officials in Papeete himself and fax them for us. He gave us his personal phone number and email address and a recommendation for a repair facility to provide an estimate.

Of course by now it was lunchtime, which in every country south of the United States means that all businesses are closed for two hours. So we stopped with the folks from the other damaged boat and had some lunch and waited for the repair shop to reopen. When Rob explained to the repair shop owner that we needed a report for the Gendarme, he said he would meet us at the Yacht Club dock at 9:00 tomorrow morning and there would be no fee for his time to prepare two estimates.

When we left our boat this morning our outboard wouldn’t start and we thought it was just flooded, so a cruiser happened by to check on us and towed us into the dock. We hitchhiked into town from there instead of taking our dink to the city dock. When we got back to the dock this afternoon we found our dinghy motor still unwilling to start, so someone from the yacht club towed us back to our boat. Apparently our outboard has been damaged as well, but hopefully Rob can fix it today or tomorrow.

Will we get any money for our repairs? Rob thinks not. It didn’t sound from the commandant like the guy who hit us has any money. We’re insured, but the cost of the repairs, thankfully, should be much less than our deductible. The local will be charged in court and the estimate for the repairs will be provided to the court. By law he should pay, but we’re doubtful that will really happen. The local who picked us up and gave us a ride into town this morning already knew about the accident and said the guy drank too much whiskey. The commandant said a blood test will be taken, but likely it was alcohol related.

The good news this morning from the other cruiser who helped get the local ashore is that his arm was not as severed as we were told last night. Hopefully he won’t lose it. Our damage is superficial and repairable. Eva, the other boat, will be repaired as well. Then we’ll both be on our way to another island where hopefully we won’t have any more eventful evenings like last night.

Teresa
Bora Bora Yacht Club is here

I don’t even remember when I got the roll of sunbrella, but I’m positive it was on my boat when we sailed north to Alaska in April ’06. I’m pretty sure Cindy bought it when she went to the discount store and got all the hardware for us to do canvas making. I do know the fabric in the aft cabin was always intended for a cover for our dink. The dink is made of hypalon, which is relatively strong and resistant to UV damage, but it will wear eventually. So finally last year in Ecuador I dug out the instructions we and made a pattern for the dink cover. That was probably in August, which was a year ago. I’ve been working on it ever since, and moving it in and out of the aft cabin every time I’ve straightened up.

Over the course of the last 12 months we became pretty sure pigs would be airborne long before the cover actually got finished and went on the dink. Today I’m happy to say that pigs are flying in Bora Bora. I can finally not only check that one off the eternal list, but also stop having to move the huge pile of sunbrella every time I clean up the aft cabin.

We’re still on a buoy at the Bora Bora Yacht Club. We were going to move today, but last night about 2:30 in the morning the wind started howling. We’re in the lee of the mountain and don’t think there’s a better protected spot on the island, so here we’ll stay until it slows down tomorrow. There’s a big low that passed by deep in the Southern Ocean earlier this week, and a huge high that has followed, making a squash zone between them with some pretty good winds. Hopefully the worst of it will blow over tonight and we’ll have calmer conditions tomorrow.

Which would be good, because we have to go over to the commercial dock and pick up our lifelines that arrive from Papeete. Apparently they’ll be on “the blue ship”. So we have to watch for it to come in the pass and go to the dock to unload. Somehow we’ll figure out where our stuff is and pick them up. That’ll be the end of the repairs from the collision, so we’ll be free to go and enjoy Bora Bora as soon as this wind dies.

In other good news, Michelle has Warrior as far as New Caledonia, which on a straight line course is nearly 3,000 miles from Tahiti. She’s been dodging low pressure systems and weather fronts, and reports it as a very wet ride so far. She said she’s definitely learned the difference between cruising and delivering a boat. But the best news is that Robin’s first round of chemo is done and he’s feeling good enough to fly up and spend a week in New Caledonia with Michelle before the last leg home to Aus.

Our next stop is Rarotonga in the Cook Islands, but I’m not planning too far ahead yet. Right now we’re going to enjoy some time in Bora Bora. Brit & Axel are just leaving Tahiti when this wind stops blowing, so hopefully we’ll get to see them before we head west to the Cooks. Maya’s blood test came back positive from the lab in Australia and the Kiwi officials have confirmed that we’re good to go to import her into New Zealand, so that’s good news also.

Today on Yohelah we’re waiting for the wind to slow down and watching for flying pork….

Teresa

Bora Bora Yacht Club is here

We just do not seem to generate much sympathy from friends at home when we write about having to wait out bad weather in someplace like Bora Bora. But that’s what we’ve been doing for the last week. We’ve definitely seen some good rain and winds and are both suffering a bit of cabin fever at this point. Happily, though, I can report that the monster high pressure system south of us has moved past and we’re in a very calm weather window. As far as the forecasters can see we should have quiet winds, which will be perfect for enjoying the lagoon here in Bora Bora.

When last I wrote we were going to pick up our new lifelines that had been shipped up from Tahiti. They did show up as scheduled on the blue ship, but sadly that was not the end of that story. We unwrapped them on the deck with great anticipation, ready to just be done with the whole mess from the crash. And sure enough, they weren’t made right and did not fit on our boat. Rats. Instead of a ring at one end to hook the gate to, they had fittings for turnbuckles on both ends. And they were too long. The ends were pressed onto the wire, so it wasn’t like we could just shorten them, even with the turnbuckle as tight as it could go.

Rob tried to call the rigger in Tahiti and never could get them on the phone, so off we went to the marine store to see if we could sort out a solution ourselves. Surprisingly there’s quite a nice marine store here and they had some parts we thought we could use. We realized if we end-for-ended the new lifeline pieces and put the turnbuckle at the gate we could screw in a ring we found at the marine store at the gate end and they would be the right length. Yippee. So back to the boat with the new ring that does fit into the turnbuckle. However, the pelican hook is too big for the ring. Rats again. So back to the marine store with the pelican hook and turnbuckle, only to find out that the big ring that fits the pelican hook doesn’t fit the turnbuckle.

But wait, we have an old set of pelican hooks from our original lifelines that we replaced in Sausalito. And yes, it did fit into the ring that fit the turnbuckle. But of course it’s shaft didn’t screw into the fitting on the lifelines. So back to the marine store again to get the bigger rings, then onto the ferry back to Raiatea to the stinless welder to have the big ring welded onto the smaller shaft to screw into the turnbuckle. Sheesh. But, happily, we’re finally done with that mess. And like Rob keeps reminding me, as we watched that speedboat turn and slam into our boat that night we would never have guessed that we’d get out of it for only $600. We can now happily say the story’s done and over.

And we did finally get off the buoy from the Bora Bora Yacht Club. It’s a really nice place, but their burgers are 1900 CFP’s (about $21) each, and they really don’t cater to parsimonious (thanks Marcy for my new word) cruisers like ourselves. We stopped in town and grabbed some groceries at the store and last night took a buoy at Bloody Mary’s, which is another restaurant. Here we can get a $10 burger and enjoy some snorkeling at this end of the lagoon. Tomorrow we’ll probably either go around the other side of the little island inside the lagoon or get our bikes out and bicycle around the island.

Today on Yohelah we’re happy the weather’s settled and the accident and repairs are finally behind us….

Teresa

Bloody Mary’s is here

Well now I’m just driving myself crazy. We really need to go to work at the end of this season. Somehow we’ve convinced ourselves that work will be much easier to find in the Pacific Northwest and we should make the 5,000 mile passage back up to Seattle. We’ve talked at length about it over the last couple of days and realize that if we’re going to make the passage we need to leave here now to get into Puget Sound ahead of the winter gales. Unfortunately that also means we’ll be passing by Hawaii during hurricane season, which has been very active so far this year.

This morning we were pretty well committed to heading north in a good weather window Saturday morning. Then I thought I should just take one last look and maybe talk to some recruiters in New Zealand. And sure enough, we do easily qualify for immigration into NZ. And worse yet, there are quite a few Oracle and Project Management jobs in New Zealand right now.

So back I go again, waffling towards heading south. I’m going to call some recruiters this morning and talk to them about our chances. Spending a couple of years back in the Pacific Northwest doesn’t sound bad to us at all. We’re both ready to park the boat for a bit and catch our breath. And even the 40+ days to get up there from here doesn’t sound that bad, except the bit about the hurricanes. But we’ve wanted to go to work in New Zealand forever and we’re so close right now.

Today on Yohelah I’m just wondering – what to do, what to do?

Teresa

After chatting with a few job recruiters in New Zealand yesterday we’re much more encouraged about the job prospects there. Additionally, we got email from friends on a sister ship at Christmas Island who have already waited 3 weeks for a weather window to get to Hawaii and back to San Diego. And there’s already a monster storm brewing in the Gulf of Alaska with two gales forming right behind it. We’ve concluded it’s just too late now to head north. Friends of ours on a boat named Liberty sailed from Fiji to Seattle earlier this year, leaving Fiji in April, and had a great sail north. If we don’t have work by next April that’s what we’ll do in the fall.

So, instead of digging out our storm sails this morning, I think we’ll toss the dive gear into the dink and check out the dive site outside the pass. The weather’s pretty settled this morning. Our friend Neville from Dreamtime dove this site with the local dive company and said it was just so-so, but apparently that’s about as good as it gets here. We were all definitely spoiled with the diving in the Tuamotus. We’re looking forward to some pretty spectacular dives on Niue in a couple of weeks.

Day before yesterday we pulled our bikes out and pedaled around the island. It was a really pretty day and we got to see the island and a nice pace. Tomorrow we’ll fuel up the boat and get enough provisions to last until Rarotonga. The freezer’s empty now, but we hate to buy too much more at French Polynesia prices. Unless the forecast changes significantly, we’ll drop the buoy on Sunday morning and head southwest to the Cook Islands.

Teresa

Rob’s theory of hiking in bear country is that you don’t have to be faster than the bear, you only have to be faster than your slowest hiking partner. Likewise, that same theory holds with diving; you don’t have to swim faster than the sharks, just your dive buddies. After we dropped out of our dinghy yesterday and descended into 60′ of water outside the pass at Bora Bora I thought we were going to have a chance to test out that theory. But with the intense adrenaline rush I was feeling I may have actually won that race.

As I tied us up to one of the empty dive buoys we had noticed there weren’t any other divers in the water at the time. With the huge amount of traffic they get at that dive site every day we were happy not having to avoid a mass of underwater tourists. We approached the bottom of the reef at about 60′, got our buoyancy and gear adjusted, then checked to figure out if there was current and which way it was running. Since we dive without a local guide we never know what we’ll find. If there is current on the dive we always swim against the current first and drift back to our dinghy.

Rob gave the signal to swim south, paralleling the reef and heading away from the pass against a very slight incoming current. I turned and begin to check out the reef below me as I swam along. As I glanced back towards Rob I saw him looking past me towards the edge of the reef. He signaled for me to look and sure enough, there was a 6-8′ lemon shark swimming past and checking us out from about 20′ away. We’ve been diving with sharks ever since we got to Cocos in March and have become accustomed to the completely non-threatening reef sharks. We had a little 4′ black tipped reef shark swim in Moorea with us all the way up and back waiting for a snack. Lemon sharks, however, are truly a shark of a different color.

The lemon shark is reported to be dangerous and unpredictable, but their natural behavior is to shy away from humans. Moments later a 10′ lemon shark swam right toward us, coming within 6-8′ of us. Rob turned toward it to face it, betraying his carefully laid plans of outswimming his dive buddy. Finally it swam off. I signaled a thumbs up to Rob, which when diving doesn’t mean “cool”, it means “let’s get the hell out of here and go to the surface”. He looked surprised and when I realized they were both gone I decided to continue on with the dive. I was nervous and looking over my shoulder for about 20 minutes (as was Rob I found out later) and finally realized their initial assessment was that we weren’t that tasty looking.

Yesterday afternoon we were chatting with our friend Neville who had dove the site earlier with a guide and mass of tourists, and he confirmed that the guides here do indeed feed the lemon sharks. Our two lemon colored buddies yesterday were just looking for a handout. We think that feeding sharks whose natural behavior is unpredictable and dangerous, in order to amuse your tourists and increase your tip, is totally irresponsible. We’ll pass on another dive outside this reef and I’ll say no thanks to lemons for a while.

Teresa

The pass at Bora Bora is here

Well it looks like we’re finally going to get a break in the weather long enough to get across the Cook Islands. Sadly, we’ll have to admit defeat on a stop a Rarotonga, though, because the weather that is building now is in that neighborhood. There’s a guy down here named Bob McDavitt who is the guru of the Kiwi weather folks. He writes a weekly “weathergram” which you’re foolish not to pay attention to. When he uses a single word to describe an area, and it’s “Avoid”, we know to listen to him. That’s his advice for the Southern Cooks this coming week, which is where Rarotonga is.

We were going to leave tomorrow, but managed to completely destroy ourselves on a “hike” yesterday. I use the work hike very loosely in this case because it really wasn’t a hike. It was a climb. Three solid hours straight up, using roots and ropes to literally scale the side of the mountain. The most incredibly suckful thing was, though, that Rob & I got shut out 25 minutes from the top. There’s one last area where you’re using ropes to climb straight up a creek bed through the last overhang on top. According to our friend Ann who climbed it the day before us, there were 3 ropes. Bob, our other friend who climbed it last week was certain there were four ropes, extending from the bottom all the way to the top.

Yesterday there were only two ropes. The bottom section was a nearly vertical climb about 8′ high in wet rocks, but there were good footholds and handholds. The two middle sections each had a rope that we used to literally pull ourselves up the rocks. The last section, about 60′ long did not have a rope at all. The rocks were pretty wet from a rainfall the night before and neither of us could find a spot that wasn’t too slippery to even start the ascent. Looking down the creek bed behind us and knowing we’d fall all the way to the bottom (probably 100′ straight down bouncing off rocks) just didn’t sound like a good idea. So we gave up and turned back. Our friends Phillip & Leslie on Carina were ahead of us and made it up that section, but I have no idea how they did. We weren’t too tired to continue, we just couldn’t convince ourselves we could do it without falling and causing major damage to our bodies high up on top of that mountain.

So we turned around and had another 3 hours straight down. Again, we had to use ropes in the steepest rocky areas and roots all the way down, mostly descending backwards and holding on to anything that would keep us from falling. It was muddy from the rain and we were just absolutely filthy and exhausted by the time we reached the bottom. We both woke up about 3:00 this morning when our aspirin and muscle relaxers wore off and there are few places on either of us that don’t ache pretty good today. It was definitely the most technical and challenging “hike” we’ve ever been on. I’m glad we did it, and sorry I finally have to say there’s a hike I didn’t make it to the top of, but definitely wouldn’t try it again. OK, if I knew all of the ropes were back maybe I would. But in retrospect I’ve got to say I’d rather be the guy who got there after the ropes were gone than the guy who was on the rope when it broke.

So now that we know we can’t go to Rarotonga I’ve got to provision the boat well enough here in Bora Bora to get us to Tonga, with a short stop in Niue on the way. Grocery shopping is a big challenge for us in the French stores, but we’ll make one last trip tomorrow and then pack the bicycles back up in the forward cabin under the bed. The dive gear is all cleaned up and packed away and all of our to-do’s and small repairs are done. Yohelah is ready for her last two big passages, about 1,500 miles to Tonga and then another 1,350 down to northern New Zealand. We’ll have about a month to enjoy Tonga before we start watching for a weather window for the passage south. It’s a tricky passage, heading into the westerlies in the Southern Ocean, so there’ll be lots to write about that later. Hopefully by then Hello World will have caught up with us. Axel’s still in Tahiti waiting for a doctor’s release before they head this direction. We miss their company and hope he gets well soon.

Yohelah is here in Bora Bora

Miles traveled day 1: 109
Miles traveled total: 109
Miles left to Niue: 957

On Tuesday we finally cast off the buoy at the Bora Bora Yacht Club, went to town and provisioned, then left behind one last chunk of money at Bloody Mary’s having lunch. Wednesday morning we put things away, packed up the last of the groceries, and got us and the boat ready for our first long passage in months. It’s just over 1,000 nautical miles from Bora Bora to Niue on a southwest heading. When we left yesterday we headed northwest in very light winds, sailing with the wind on our beam to keep the sails full and move as quickly as possible north. There are remnants of a system south of us that we’re trying to scoot over the top of. We’ve turned southwest this afternoon and are now headed at Niue.

There’s no guarantee we’ll get to make landfall at Niue when we get there, but that’s where we’re hoping to stop. The weather south near Rarotonga has been too stinky so we’re going to skip even an attempt at a stop there. The harbor is small and completely exposed to any passing northerly winds, which we’ve had a lot of lately. So we’ll hope the weather is settled enough at Niue for a stop and a little exploration. The diving there is reported to be spectacular, with exceptional visibility and lots of marine life. There is no harbor, though, just a bunch of buoys on the northwest side in 100′ of water. So if a northerly blows, people reportedly either just leave or go around the other side of the island and heave to and wait for the weather to settle. After a 10 day passage we’ll hope there’s no waiting for a buoy. The next jump to Tonga is only another couple of days from there.

Right now we’re slogging along in light winds, which we expect to get through this afternoon or evening. Friends 350 miles ahead of us right now are sailing in 20-28 knots. We’d be happy with halfway between the 10 we have and the 25 they have, but we’re committed now and just have to take what we get. We’re hopeful this will be a nicer passage than the ones we made after we reached the Marquesas.

Today on Yohelah we’re getting our sea legs back and hoping for a smooth ride west….

The boat is here

Miles traveled day 2: 99
Miles traveled day 3: 118
Miles traveled day 4: 156
Miles traveled total: 482
Miles left to Niue: 598

I’ve been trying to figure out what it is with passages and how to understand them. We’ve had pretty good luck and basically enjoyed our passages right up until we made landfall in the Marquesas. Since then I’ve been pretty challenged to come up with something good to say while we’re on passage, and may even have broken our strict “no whining” in the blog mandate. The first four days of this passage have again made writing without whining difficult. Every day has been different from the previous one, but they are getting better. As a matter of fact we’re having a marvelous sail right now. Bouncy, but mostly marvelous and making good time in the intended direction.

About day 2 I had a little realization that maybe you can’t just define a passage as one thing. Sometimes a passage is going to have lots of different personalities. So I thought maybe Passages Are Like Relatives. There are days when you feel like you’re back at Crazy Aunt Sally’s on Thanksgiving, and there are days when you’re sitting in the sun on the deck at Ray’s Boathouse having lunch with your sister. You can’t pick ‘em, you just get what you get. But that’s not entirely true – we could have waited another week or month to try and get a perfect weather window for this passage. But with a 10 day passage and no way to forecast accurately further out than 5 days, you can’t really pick a perfect passage.

Then I thought maybe Passages Are Like Cliches. It is what it is. But in the end, I realized that Passages Are Like Forrest Gump’s Box Of Chocolates – you never know what you’re going to get.