Hi again! Last time we left you, we were just getting ready to depart from Penrhyn. Our next destination was planned to be Niue, one of the worlds smallest countries, a small island about 1000 miles south west of Penrhyn. Originally we had planned to sail to Suwarrow, another Cook Island and a national park that is directly on course to Niue. Unfortunately we had been told by customs that Suwarrow was closed to visiting yachts.
We woke to a perfect sunny day with a light breeze. Getting the anchor up this time was not too difficult. We were anchored in sand in about 6 metres of crystal clear water, and it took me about 20 minutes to hand crank the anchor up. Its a good work out that is for sure!
Engine on, we motored out of the shallows
We unfurled the Genoa and took a nice slow sail across the atoll dodging the coral bommies.
Then we motored through the pass out in to the open ocean. Farewell Penrhyn, hope to see you again some day!
We got the main up and headed on our course to Niue. Initially the sailing was easy, we were in the lee of the atoll and the sea state was flat and the wind was blowing a pleasant Force 4 at about 120 degrees apparent. As the hours went by, the sea state started to build and so did the wind. The forecast was for 17 knots with gusts to 22. However, as night approached the wind settled at about an average of 22knots with gusts to 30. We had two reefs in the main and the Genoa and we were making fast progress. The wind was now on the beam and the seas just behind the beam and we were surfing at between 8 and 10 knots. This went on for the next 36 hours. Then the wind started to drop a bit, and sea conditions started to settle.
It was early morning when I was on watch, I noticed our speed had dropped and we had started to roll from side to side. I looked up at the main sail to see that it was ripped right across the middle!! Oh no!
We had ripped our mainsail before on a passage between Trinidad and Curacao. That had been in a really crazy squall. This time, it seems to have happened in fairly normal trade wind conditions. What todo? Well first thing was to drop the main to avoid any more damage. At this point we were 80 miles from Suwarrow. Without a mainsail, the rolling onboard Azimuth was horrible. We were still sailing fast though. However, we still had 600 miles to go to reach Niue. I didn’t fancy that without a mainsail. So we made a decision to try and stop at Suwarrow where hopefully we could repair the main and continue our journey to Niue. Suwarrow is manned by two rangers, and even though Suwarrow was closed to yachts, I hope they would grant us a port of refuge to make our repairs.
We furled in the Genoa to try and slow down so that we would reach Suwarrow at first light the next day where we needed the light to negotiate the narrow pass in to the Atoll. Now with the boat slowed down, the rolling was even worst! I felt pretty rubbish. Thankfully Ailsa felt better and was able to take on more of the watch.
The next morning we did arrive outside the Atoll at first light. I called up the Rangers on VHF 16 and they very kindly gave us permission to enter the Atoll. We stowed the sails and motored in to the pass. There was a strong current against us of about 4 knots, but as with other atoll pass transits we had done, it was short lived, and the sea state was easy. Soon enough we were in to the calm waters of another lagoon and with relief we dropped the hook in the only anchorage just off the rangers huts.
Its a stunning anchorage, and the immediate thing that hit us was the noise of the birds that were smarming like a whirlwind over the far end of the island.
When we were settled, the rangers came out to visit us on the boat. They were two guys, very quietly spoken and very friendly. We explained our situation and asked for refuge to fix the sail and they said no problem. We showed them the paperwork we had for leaving Penrhyn, and they explained that all we needed to do was pay an anchoring fee and we could stay until we had made our repairs. Phew! They couldn’t have been nicer or more understanding.
We spent the rest of the day recovering from the trip and then the next morning set about getting the main sail off. We were nervous as to the extent of the damage. We initially thought the the sail had properly ripped. However, as we revealed the area of damage it became apparent it was a seam that had parted and we felt hopeful it could be sewn back together by hand using the same stitching holes. We both thought that the sail had just failed in the same place it had already been repaired in Curacao.
So we managed to get the sail off and using various halyards we got it in to the cockpit and then in to the saloon which became our “sewing emporium”!
When we unrolled the sail and found the damaged area, we noticed it wasn’t the seam that had failed before, but a different seam, this one much longer! The seam was 4 metres in length and entirely parted with rips in the luff and the leach too. Also the luff rope had snapped further down the sail and was hanging out through a tear. We did the maths. The seam was 4m and triple stitched in a zigzag machine stitch. We realised that to hand stitch the same holes we would need to do two passes on each of the three lines. So, that was 3x4x2 = 24 metres of sewing, plus the other repairs! Ouch!
There was nothing else for it. We removed all the old broken threads. I started sewing at one end of the seam and Ailsa started at the other. We put the stereo on to listen to some tunes and settled in. By the end of the day we had only done about half a metre! Our fingers were red raw, and our backs were aching from being stooped over!!
It would take us 6 days to finish the job!
On day three another boat called La Kahina turned up. They were on there way to Western Samoa and were seeking refuge from the weather for a couple of days. They were a lovely couple called Cnut and Suni and they came over to say hello. Cnut works as an officer in the merchant navy onboard a cable laying ship for 6 months of the year and for the other 6 months, he sails La Kahina, a steel hulled ketch. Although he is American, his family have lived in Ireland for most of his life and that was where they had bought the boat. So we instantly hit it off with stories of Ireland and how we had come to buy Azimuth in Kinsale. It also turned out that Cnut was a very proficient banjo player. So after a couple of glasses of wine he went and fetched his banjo and we had a jam session! Ailsa took this video snippet. You cant see much but you can hear the playing!
It never ceases to amaze me of the situations you find yourself in, and the people you meet as you sail round this planet, and this was one of those special moments in time where you cross paths with random people with a shared love for music.
It gave us a much needed boost to carry on with the repairs too. We had realised that we were very low on sewing thread, so before they left La Kahina gave us some thread from their supplies. Thanks guys!
The sewing continued for 6 days in total. We had to ask the rangers for an extension, as we had originally estimated the repair would take 3 days, but they were fine with it.
With some relief then, we finished the work. It looked pretty professional. The next day no wind was forecast, so we had a good opportunity to put the sail back on.
The next day was windless and hot. We set to work. Now, our main sail is battened. It has long fibreglass batons that slide in to pockets horizontally across the sail. These battens provide rigidity to the sail and allow a better shape when its raised in the wind. The sail fixes to the boom using a bolt rope that slides in to a track along the top of the boom and is held at either end by shackles. The luff of the sail attaches to track cars that slide up and down a track on the mast. You work your way up from the bottom of the sail. The longest batten goes in first. This is about 6 metres long. Its the trickiest one to get in. We both were on the coach roof pulling the sail up. To get this long batten in to its pocket, I have to literally hang it off the back of the boat, resting it on the solar panels on top of the cockpit bimini. The battens are flexible and this longest one drooped down over the back. At the moment we were trying to get the batten in to its pocket, the wind picked up and started to pull the sail away. In my haste to grab the sail, I inadvertently let go of the batten. To my horror, I watched it slither off the solar panels and slide in to the water behind Azimuth with a very unsatisfying splash!
I could have cried!!! Infact I think I nearly was in tears. I just couldn’t quite believe what had happened! Over the next minute I issued a string of expletives that would have made your mother blush as I admonished myself for being so f***in stupid!!!! What the hell were we going to do now????
I knew the water was deep at the back of Azimuth, about 11m. Could I dive down and retrieve the batten? Thankfully the water was crystal clear. Once I had calmed down a few minutes later, we set about getting our snorkelling gear on to go and take a look. I was putting my mask on, and to add to my grief, at that moment the strap chooses to break!! Out with my old mask!
We swam out and there on the bottom was the batten draped over a coral bommie about 15m behind Azimuth. It was way too deep for me to dive for sure and even with my hookah diving equipment, I didn’t think I would have enough pipe length to reach it. So we started looking around to see what we could use to try and hook the batten and lift it.
We have a fishing lure on some strong line, and the lure has two big hooks. We attached some large fishing weights to the lure to weigh it down and then we swam out. Ailsa held the line reel whilst I dangled the lure. Within a couple of minutes I managed to hook the batten near its middle!. I started to gently lift it . It got about 5 metres off the bottom before it started to slip down the hook. I watched in horror as the hook slid off the batten end and dropped back to the bottom again!
I remembered then that one end of the batten had a plastic cap on the end to protect the pocket it sits in the sail. On my second attempt, I managed to get the hook to slide towards this cap. It held! I very slowly and gently lifted the whole thing until with an amazing feeling of relief I reached down and grabbed the batten in my hand! We got the thing back on the boat. I was shaking with the adrenaline! I had gone from complete despair to utter elation in the space of about 30 minutes. I’m convinced only sailing can put you in these crazy situations!
That batten was fitted back in to the sail without issue and with a lot of care and attention! The rest of the sail installation went fine too and we breathed a large sigh of relief that the job was complete and we were now ready to complete our journey to Niue. One thing we hadn’t noticed was that we had been outside now for several hours and we were both really sunburnt!
The next day we checked the weather and it looked good to get to Niue. We checked out of Suwarrow with the Rangers and set to getting the anchor up. I had dived the anchor a couple of times and I knew that the chain was wrapped around a couple of bommies. So we came up with a plan of how I would wind the chain by hand whilst Ailsa manoeuvred Azimuth. We had our agreed hand signals!
The wind dropped, so I went to make a start. It was heavy going with the chain getting stuck and then freeing itself slowly. The skies started to darken too and the wind freshen, and I could see a squall on the way! Just as I finally got the anchor on board the skies opened and the wind shot up to 30 knots as we got hit by a full on squall. We both looked like drowned rats!
Not a great start! When the wind died down a bit, I managed to get the mainsail up and we headed out through the pass and in to some big seas.
It was plain but boisterous sailing after that. We had three reefs in the main and two in the genoa and we were still razzing along at 8 to 9 knots.
All was looking good though to get to Niue?
About 30 hours from Niue, I came on watch at 1am to take my shift. There was a bang at the back of the boat like a gunshot quickly followed by a “no rudder response” alarm. We get those quite a lot. It generally means the autopilot has had enough usually due to a large wave and has switched itself off. All you need to do is reengage the pilot and continue on your way. This time that didn’t work? We tried the old IT trick off turning it off and turning it back on again… no joy!
So I took the wheel and settled in to hand steer for a bit. The wind was pretty strong, gusting up to 30 knots, but we had three reefs in the main and the Genoa was well reefed in. After 4 hours I was calling on Ailsa to take over. I was bushed, and also I wanted to climb under the cockpit and see if I could find a problem with the autopilot. We were in the process of handing over when I noticed flapping sail up front caught in the navigation lights. I asked Ailsa to take a look, but because it was dark she couldn’t see anything. She put the deck lights on and to our horror, there was a huge tear in the Genoa! A great big strip of sail was now flapping in the wind and had torn down to where the sailed was furled. Ailsa took the wheel whilst I tried to get the rest of the sail furled away. It was hard going, as the flap that had ripped was getting wrapped and stuck on the inner forestay. I overdid it with the winch and the control line pulled out of the roller furler. The next thing I watched with horror as the Genoa unfurled itself and then proceeded to shred itself to bits! One huge rip up the whole length of the sail, and various parts in complete taters. A complete right off!
The only option I had now was to try and drop the sail. Ailsa was hand steering, so she couldn’t help me, so I went to the mast and it took me about 30 minutes to free the halyard from the complicated track we have on Azimuth. I had to try and take the load off the rope by hitching a second rope to our spinnaker winch and that allowed me to free the knot that was holding the genoa halyard in place. All the while the Genoa was making a terrible racket and further destroying itself!
Eventually even with the boat rolling all over the place I managed to get the halyard free. I then had to get to the bow and try and pull down the sail from its track. It was hard going, because it was full of wind, it did not want to drop. So I got Ailsa to sail more upwind to take some pressure off the sail. That did the trick and eventually I managed to get the sail to drop. However, I couldn’t control it on my own and the sail fell in to the water still attached to the roller furler and the sheets. It then proceeded to sink under the boat!
I was pretty tired by this point, and the sun had started to come up which always gives a new perspective on a problem. I tried to use a winch to pull the sheets out of the water and hopefully the sail with it, but the load was too high. I needed help, and the only way that would happen was if I could get the autopilot working again. Once I realised this, I set to it.
The autopilot is under the cockpit sole and to get to it you have to climb in to one of the lazerette lockers and through a hatch. So, with the boat still rolling around, I managed to empty one of the lockers enough so I could get to the hatch, remove it, and climb inside with some tools. What I found was not too shocking. The autopilot was held in place by 4, 5 inch long, 1/2 inch diameter bolts. Two of the nuts on two of the bolts had worked themselves loose, and the bolts had dropped free. Another of the bolts had sheared clean off!
That’s a half inch bolt! Designed to take a lot of load. That left just one bolt in place and that meant that the pilot ram that controls the rudder could no longer work correctly. I had another bolt in my spares, so I fitted the three missing bolts and tightened them to within an inch of their lives. Ailsa was able to engage the autopilot and it worked!
Phew! It was now about 9 in the morning by this time, but at least we had a working autopilot again, and now we could both address the issue of the sail in the water.
It took us another two hours to get the sail out by using the sheet lines back to the reef winch on the mast, I was able to coax the sail out of the water and take some of the water pressure of it. Then both of us sat on the deck and hauled the sail over the guard rail. It was exhausting work, but eventually we had the thing on deck and lashed down.
I think pretty much collapsed after that! We got the staysail out and continued on to Niue where we arrived early the next day, very relieved to have arrived and for that sail to be over!
Not sure we could make that story up…. just a string of bad luck all packed in to one nightmare sail. Still it was a learning experience, and actually when you look at it a confidence booster that we managed to cope.
Now we are going to have to get a new sail once we get to New Zealand. We were quoted for a new Genoa in Martinique. An eye watering 18000 Euros! So if anyone wants to make a donation to the Azimuth sailing fund, all monies gratefully received! ….. I jest! We will be looking for a second hand option when we reach New Zealand. Fingers crossed.
We will tell you more about Niue next time! So far we are loving it! All the best for now.
Dom & Ailsa on Azimuth