We Need to Swerva to get to Minerva.

Hi to everyone and welcome to a new update of the Sailing Azimuth blog. In the last blog, we had just arrived back in the Bay of Islands in North New Zealand, completing our circumnavigation of the North Island. So lets get in to what has happened since then, and how I am now writing to you from the lush tropical paradise of Fiji!

I know the title of this blog is a little cryptic, all will be revealed to those that read onwards, perhaps the alternative title for this blog could have been “The Long Wait”? Because for the entire month of May and for some of June too, that’s what we have been doing, waiting for the weather and an opportunity to sail North to Fiji. There were a good number of people with us waiting too. The Bay of Islands is arguably the best setoff point for this passage, given that it harbours the town of Opua, where you can check out of New Zealand when travelling by yacht.

So when we first arrived in the Bay of Islands, (from here on I will call it BOI), we headed for the North of the Bay and anchored ourselves in a river estuary a couple of miles outside the town of Keri Keri. One of the main things on the to-do list was to buy an outboard engine for the tender, which we had been without for our entire time sailing around New Zealand. Azimuth’s tender is like her car, its what we use to get everywhere from anchor, and for that entire time we had been oar powered! Great for physical fitness, but somewhat restrictive when it came to going any distance further than a mile, and several times, we found it impossible to leave Azimuth even if we wanted to, when the wind got to the range of 20 knots or higher. You could row, and find yourself going backwards!

Kerikeri is the address for the electric boat company, and I had my eye on a new electric outboard made by a company called Epropulsion. It was a good price too, since in New Zealand, foreign flagged vessels don’t pay VAT (called GST here) on boat parts, which is a very generous arrangement. We dropped the hook and I contacted the company to get my hands on one. It took a week, since it had to come from Auckland.

We had been anchored for a couple of days in the pretty estuary, but we had been under attack by the nearby seagull population which had now adopted Azimuth as a night time roost. We were literally covered in them, and their deposits! We decided to move round the corner to the equally pretty Onion and Napua Bays to wait for the outboard to arrive. These were thankfully seagull free and we spent a very pleasant week relaxing.

You get a flavour of Napua Bay in this silly video of me just rowing round it one Sunday morning. Listening to the birds, and enjoying the views.

Eventually Chris, from the Electric Boat Company got in touch to let me know when our new outboard was ready to collect, so we pulled up the anchor and headed back to the Kerikeri inlet, this time taking Azimuth in as far as we dared up this shallow estuary at low tide. I needed to row the dinghy up the river to go to the Chris’s dock, so I set off mid afternoon with the rising tide. it took me about an hour to row, I got stuck once when I tried to take a shortcut across a corner, but I made it. Chris was a lovely bloke and we had a chinwag before I fitted the new electric engine and set off back to Azimuth, arriving in the gloom just after sunset to the relief of Ailsa who was waiting anxiously for me.

I have to say, so far, I have been very happy with our new car engine. Its so easy to use, and its so quiet! We have shocked a few people who never heard us coming, rather like an electric car! Admittedly, we wont be breaking any speed records, but I will trade speed for peace and tranquillity and lack of maintenance any day … maybe I’m getting old?!

So, with that sorted, the next day we headed towards the little town of Russell where we hoped to pick up some needed supplies to supplement our dwindling vegetable stocks and then think about what to do next, we supposed, sit and wait, and look at weather models?

On the way to Russell, the weather gave us this amazing rainbow as entertainment:

Well it turns out quite a few boats had the same idea. Russell is a very agreeable little town and offers many temptations including restaurants, pubs, supermarkets and cafes with a very laid back atmosphere. It being the beginning of winter too, it was free of the usual crowds of tourists and most of the transient population of the town now seemed to be cruisers like us. Their boats at anchor, seeking out things to do for the long wait for weather. The “Hell Hole” café seemed to be the place to congregate for elevenses, where you could always find some fellow cruisers and the start of the conversation would always be something along the lines of, “So, have you seen a weather window yet to get to Fiji?”

We anchored off the Russell Boat club, a little yacht club with a handy pontoon to leave your dinghy. We made a couple of visits to the club in the evening too where we were warmly welcomed by the locals and the beer and wine flowed easily.

As well as waiting for the big weather gods to align the wind and waves for the passage to Fiji, we had to keep an eye on the local weather gods plans to spoil the fun too. After all, it was now winter in NZ, and we had plenty of low weather systems hitting North Island. We had to retreat from Russell for one of those and ride out a gale at anchor about 8 miles round the corner in Opunga Cove. The motor there before the blow was beautiful.

After the blow left, we headed back to Russell to continue the wait. Not before I had to untangle this mass of fishing line from the anchor chain!

This constant waiting was a little wearing. Eventually, in early June, a passage window started to form. The weather models predicted a large high pressure system that could whisk us all up to Fiji with an option to stop at the intriguing Minerva Reef where is is possible to anchor in what feels like the middle of the Pacific Ocean. Minerva Reef is barely above sea level, and is almost completely covered at high tide, but its inner lagoon offers a Haven for yachties to anchor and enjoy the fabulous snorkelling and marine life. We missed this place on way down from Tonga to New Zealand a couple of years ago, because we didn’t have a functioning anchor windlass. So this time it was on the wish list.

So, the weather gods did start to align. The chatter about the weather amongst the cruisers got more and more intense with the debate fierce. We got to the point of deciding this was the opportunity, going as far as to book our exit interview with customs (you have to give them 48 hours notice), and then the debate subject became, who was leaving when and at what time?! We have never known such an intense build up to a passage, we have always just decided on our own and not really been involved in such an intense Chinese whispers situation.

Once the date was set, the intensity continued to rise. We now moved Azimuth round to anchor in Opua off the marina, ready for the exit interview, but wait a minute, what’s this strange change in the weather prediction? A small low predicted to form a week out over Minerva reef? We watched, the models updated every 6 hours, the predicted low got bigger and bigger… at the last minute, the uncertainty was too high! Now the cruiser debate hit fever pitch! We watched and debated ourselves, and the morning of the day we were to leave, I looked again at the weather models, and I didn’t like what I saw. We cancelled!

I think the downpour and horrible weather in Opua the day before was an omen..

It was exhausting! Most other people also cancelled, but some brave souls did set out, arguably to their regret when they were faced with large waves and strong winds.

With the decision made, we took the opportunity to fuel up Azimuth at the marina and headed back to Russell for the next round of waiting. Oh and there was a certain person onboard who needed to celebrate some kind of annual event…

We headed that evening to the Duke of Marlborough pub in Russell for some of the best food we have ever had in New Zealand, washed down with beer and wine, and then were joined by some cruiser friends to make the most of the evening! It was a great night and an opportunity to unwind all that pressure. Both Ailsa and I did not feel too good the next day!

Lo and behold, the long range forecast was offering another passage opportunity in a week or so’s time, but I couldn’t put myself through the build up again, so with the weather looking amazing for the following week, I convinced Ailsa that we should head away from Russell and go for the walk to Brett Cape lighthouse out at the entrance to the BOI. We did not regret this choice, it was awesome!

The sail out there was slow and calm and we dropped the hook in a place called deep water cove about 5 miles from the cape. The water was crystal clear and we had the place to ourselves, with all the peace and tranquillity we could could desire.

The next day we took the dinghy to the stony beach at the end of the cove, and with water bottles full and lunch packed we set off under a cloudless sky along the track to the lighthouse. It was a tough climb from the start and we both wheezed up the hill, realising that it had been at least a month or so since we had done anything strenuous. The reward after the first hour were breath taking views of the Cape and the jagged peaks with dizzying drops down steep cliffs.

The birds sang, and many hopped along the path in front of us leading the way. We saw no one else on the trail, we had it to ourselves. This was a cruel path though, up and down steep gradients, but with many rewards of stunning views. The lighthouse itself must have been hellishly difficult to build due to its remoteness, but stood looking over the spectacular cape. The path leading to the last 500 metres to the lighthouse took you along a razors edge ridge with steep drops on either side and was the most spectacular section. Here’s a video that captures the highlights, starting at the lighthouse and working back to Azimuth. This walk definitely finds its way in to my top 5 of NZ walks.

We both slept well that night! And a couple more days of being sat at anchor in this wonderful place reminded us of why we do this.

The cruisers WhatsApp group for the passage to Fiji continued to chirp away in the background, but we took our own time to assess the next weather window, and this time it looked good. So, we booked another exit interview and headed back to Russell for one last shopping expedition for supplies. We met cruiser friends again, but this time it seemed more straight forward, the weather looked easy and the choice was much more obvious that last time. Again we headed to Opua, and this time, there were no surprises. The next morning, the weather model still looked good, this time we were going! The exit interview was very straight forward, but we felt sad to be leaving NZ, it felt like leaving an old friend.

Nevertheless, leave we must, and pulling up the hook, we motored out of Opua with no wind. An hour later we had passed Russell in to the outer BOI and a breeze started to build for a slow sail on flat seas along with about 10 other boats that we could see, probably many more that we couldn’t all heading for Fiji or Minerva.

I still had my New Zealand charts loaded on my chart plotter and I typed in the Waypoint to Minerva Reef I had written down earlier in my logbook. The way point was off the edge of the visible chart, and I didn’t think anything off it ( a clue as to what was to come later?)

The winds got a little stronger but were on a dead run behind us, and we goose winged the jib and full main and comfortably sailed without too much rolling. As time went by after a couple of days, the wind shifted enough for a broad reach and now we clipped along at a good pace. On the third night out, about 10pm in pitch black, we were still clipping along, when I heard a bang, and the sound of the main sail falling down! I switched on the deck lights and lo and behold, the halyard had snapped and the mainsail was heaped on the boom. Bugger! Now the balance that was afforded by the mainsail was gone, and we were rolling horribly. But it was the middle of the night, and I wasn’t about to try and fix this in the dark so we lolled around all night, sailing with just the head sail until the next morning.

It took a few hours and I felt rather green by the end of it, but I managed to remove the topping lift at the end of the boom and repurpose it as the main halyard, climbing up the foot of the mast in the rolling seas to attach it to the mainsail. This topping lift rope is not a strong as the main halyard so I only put two reefs in the main and reduced the tension on the rope. Still, we were back sailing again, and the rolling stopped. In the back of my mind, I thought, this is the problem for the trip sorted, it will be plain sailing from here.

And the sailing was good! We kept up a good speed on course for Minerva Reef with a great wind angle which was now a broad reach. I came on watch early that morning and thought, okay, its about time I change the chart over on the chart plotter to our Pacific Islands chart so that we can see Minerva. I duly changed the little SD cards over and rebooted the plotter. I zoomed in on our way point and was instantly confused? There was no sign of Minerva Reef on the chart at the waypoint? I opened my laptop to look on my charts there and typed in the waypoint. Same again, there was no Minerva reef? What? What’s going on here? I got our “World Cruising Routes” book out from where I had taken the waypoint from in the first place and compared it to that I had written down in my logbook? Now my error became clear! I had written the letter E (for East) after the Longitude, when I should have written W (for west)! Minerva Reef was actually the other side of the International Date Line! Oh bugger, was what I thought, (actually it was a much stronger word, repeated several times). I corrected the waypoint and zoomed in to see Minerva Reef exactly where it was supposed to be. We were heading 60 miles to the east of it!

Once I had calmed down and kicked myself for my stupidity of sailing in the wrong direction for the last 5 days, I thought okay, lets change course. Well that was not so easy, now instead of a nice comfortable beam reach, it was an upwind sail, about 45 degrees apparent with frequent changes to 35 degrees apparent. I fought for 5 or 6 hours on a beat whilst Ailsa slept in blissful ignorance, but Azimuth was not happy, slowing down to a crawl, and bashing in to waves, and it was not comfortable sailing. Of course the distance had changed too, we now had 190 miles to go. Eventually I made the decision to give up and just head to Fiji instead, now 350 miles away but on a nice broad reach the whole way.

Now you understand the title of the blog? It came to me that morning when Ailsa got up to take over and I explained what had happened. Again, a visit to Minerva was not to be!

My ego was somewhat bruised for the rest of the day, and we had some other news from home that was not pleasant too. I eventually picked myself up and got on with the business of getting to Fiji and the port of Savusavu.

It got quite squally, but the wind only ever got to 32 knots, and on a beam reach we were clipping along nicely. The drama unfortunately was far from over. Later that night, Ailsa experienced our first “No Rudder Response” alarm from our autopilot system, the system that drives the boat for us on a set course. When this alarm happens, the pilot disengages, and you have to manually restart it. You need to do this fast, or the boat can go wildly off course, especially when the wind is strong, since nothing is controlling the rudder. This is not entirely unusual, it happens if the system has to work really hard when, for example, we are surfing down a large wave. I thought nothing of it. However, shortly after coming on watch, I had another alarm. Over the next few hours the alarms got more and more frequent. Until the alarm was every few minutes or so, keeping me on my toes all night.

In the morning, when Ailsa got up, we decided to try and take a look. I suspected there may be a loose connection somewhere, so Ailsa steered by hand whilst I emptied the lazerette locker and climbed in to the hell hole under the cockpit to take a look. I checked all the connections, but they all looked good. However, the autopilot seemed to work again? I thought okay, maybe I fixed it?

This smug feeling was only to last a few hours and then the alarms started again! I tried a couple more times to check connections and voltages, but the problem continued eventually getting to the point that the autopilot would not start at all without immediately alarming. Bugger…. we had no choice but to hand steer Azimuth all the way to Fiji, 250 miles to go.

So that was life for the next two days, 2 hour shifts, 24 hours a day. The first 24 hours were tough with 25 knot winds and surfing down large waves, The second 24 hours were more pleasant as we got in to the protection of the Fijian Islands.

We were both happy to see the Northern Island of Fiji come in to view on the final morning. We were both exhausted and snapping at each other, we had both had enough! A visit by a pod of dolphins to welcome us to Fiji bought some comfort. The relief was palpable as we picked up a mooring buoy in the pretty little port of Savusavu. We somehow managed to get through the visits to Azimuth by 5 officials from customs, health and biosecurity before pretty much collapsing in to bed at 7pm that night and sleeping for 12 hours! All in all an “interesting” passage. I may have been heard to say a few times, “lets sell the boat and buy a camper van instead!”

Here’s a little video I put together of the trip…

So here we are, sitting in Fiji. And it is wonderful. But you will have to wait for the next instalment of the blog for the details.

Dom and Ailsa on Azimuth.