Where we are now

Do you see the reef? Can you see the boats? So happy and thankful for GPS!

Beautiful clam living happily on North Minerva reef

We made "land fall" at North Minerva Reef yesterday. It feels so good to 1. not be bashing and banging around and seasick 2. be back in the tropics on Britannia 3. be clean, showered, relaxed and fed. 4. have alone/down time with Krister.

FYI to all cruisers: Minerva (23 37.284 S, 178 55.977 W) has good holding, lots of space (there are 15-20 boats anchored with us now- like a virtual marina) and it provides reasonable protection. There is a bit of roll at high tide but nothing compared to the roadstead anchorages of Baja. A nice place to stop in the middle of a passage if you need a rest or to wait for better weather.

This place that we are is like magic! It's in the middle of the ocean. If you didn't know it was here you'd never find it- and if you did accidentally run into it, you'd be in trouble. It goes from 1000 feet deep to dry land that's only inches above sea level. We just had to trust the coordinates- we couldn't see it with all the swell until we were about 100 yards away. So it feels like we're anchored in the middle of the ocean. There's NOTHING here. The only way to get here is on a private boat; not enough land for an plane to land, or build house, or grow anything... And it's kind of a no man's land. Fiji and Tonga dispute the claim to it. Not that it matters because after a few years of global warming it'll be underwater.

We're waiting here for the wind to blow from a different direction to make our passage to Fiji. Sounds like we'll be here until Friday (that's Thursday for you). While we wait I hope to get in the water and do some snorkeling. I saw a giant manta ray jump and belly flop while coming thru the pass- amazing. There should be a healthy coral eco-system since no one comes here to fish or throw toxins and garbage in the water.

Krister is also doing some boat work while we wait; our propane system needed help (the solenoid is out) and the toilet needed a new valve so it won't back fill. So thankful for that guy! I don't know how we would would manage this trip and living on a boat if he weren't an engineer.

So suddenly were back in cruising mode! Fantastic locations and dirty boat jobs. Feels good to be back home :)

A

Where we are now

We made "land fall" at North Minerva Reef yesterday. It feels so good to 1. not be bashing and banging around and seasick 2. be back in the tropics on Britannia 3. be clean, showered, relaxed and fed. 4. have alone/down time with Krister.

FYI to all cruisers: Minerva (23 37.284 S, 178 55.977 W) has good holding, lots of space (there are 15-20 boats anchored with us now- like a virtual marina) and it provides reasonable protection. There is a bit of roll at high tide but nothing compared to the roadstead anchorages of Baja. A nice place to stop in the middle of a passage if you need a rest or to wait for better weather.

This place that we are is like magic! It's in the middle of the ocean. If you didn't know it was here you'd never find it- and if you did accidentally run into it, you'd be in trouble. It goes from 1000 feet deep to dry land that's only inches above sea level. We just had to trust the coordinates- we couldn't see it with all the swell until we were about 100 yards away. So it feels like we're anchored in the middle of the ocean. There's NOTHING here. The only way to get here is on a private boat; not enough land for an plane to land, or build house, or grow anything... And it's kind of a no man's land. Fiji and Tonga dispute the claim to it. Not that it matters because after a few years of global warming it'll be underwater.

We're waiting here for the wind to blow from a different direction to make our passage to Fiji. Sounds like we'll be here until Friday (that's Thursday for you). While we wait I hope to get in the water and do some snorkeling. I saw a giant manta ray jump and belly flop while coming thru the pass- amazing. There should be a healthy coral eco-system since no one comes here to fish or throw toxins and garbage in the water.

Krister is also doing some boat work while we wait; our propane system needed help (the solenoid is out) and the toilet needed a new valve so it won't back fill. So thankful for that guy! I don't know how we would would manage this trip and living on a boat if he weren't an engineer.

So suddenly were back in cruising mode! Fantastic locations and dirty boat jobs. Feels good to be back home :)

A

Single Handing

Amanda and I have both been sleeping more than we usually do on a passage. I think we're both just exhausted from the last three month marathon. At any event, it's been a less social passage as well since we both crash so hard after coming off watch.

The quali-solitude has made really stop and think about what it would be like to single hand a boat across an ocean. It's amazing the comfort that I think we both take from simply knowing that there's another person on the boat if you really need any help or company - there's a utilitarian aspect of course: a broken leg, concussion, accidental slip overboard... All of these become less dangerous with back up.

But more than that, the human need for another human's presence regardless of the depth of interaction is something that I hadn't really considered until now.

We've had pretty hectic conditions for the last few days - moderately big (10-12 ft) beamy seas and 25 to 35 knot winds without a break. It's not particularly dangerous when I think about it academically. The seas are big enough so that I guess a consequential rogue wave might be more likely or perhaps there's enough wind to make a major mechanical failure less implausible, but the boat's been humming along happily and taking the seas without compliant. Basically, this is just as safe as 10 knots and flat seas if I try to spin out bad scenarios.

Maybe a deeper familiarity with the ocean comes after more than 10,000 miles at sea, but at this point I'm not afraid to admit that conditions like these we've had are intimidating. Not having a person next to you to share those feelings would make me way more afraid. I can see how single handing could almost be a religious experience. It makes me wonder what kids in their teens must feel when they attempt something like a single handed circumnavigation.

Amanda's in the quarter berth, sleeping.

I'm glad she's here.

Third Day Euphoriaora

...or simply TDE (you can take the engineer out of the office, but...). There has to me some medical explanation for this phenomenon since it happens to me every passage. It might be as simple as just feeling well rested. I dunno.

But anyhow, the winds are perfect, the seas are perfect, Britannia is perfect, Amanda is perfect and I'm drinking it all in along with a perfect cup of tea.

Part of me feels like I need to find something to complain about just to make sure that I'm still on planet earth and haven't transcended. On the other hand, if this is heaven, it's fine by me.

Underway

It's been a wild and crazy last few days starting with the startled and blank looks we had when we got to SFO to get on our outbound flight and were asked for New Zealand visas - after a little back and forth, it worked and we landed in Auckland at 5Am on the 30th. Ryan from Shalimar had offered to pick us up and I of course took him up on it, but felt really bad when I realized that picking us up meant driving 2 hours out of his way (and then two hours back with us for a four hour round trip!).

Getting a ride meant that we didn't have to drag over 100lbs of crap through Auckland and that we got back to Opua in time to actually accomplish a few things that day rather than just stumble back on the boat. Most importantly though, we got to spend some time with people that now feel like old friends - Archetheuthis, Dilligaf, Piko and Shalimar are all boats that we spent last season with, and the reunions were pretty sweet.

That was Monday. By Wednesday morning, we'd managed to clean out the boat (no small task - Amanda has some great pictures of all the mold that greeted us, though the boat was in all other ways just as we'd left her), get the bottom cleaned, buy solar panels, buy additional provions, check out of New Zealand and talk with Fijian customs about our arrival. It was pretty hectic and as we sailed out of the Bay of Islands yesterday, I was struck by how different an experience this was from our departure from Mexico. Passage making is starting to feel a little routine, and we know what we need to do - massive thought and mental preparations don't really feel necessary.


One photo is enough to show the kind of mold-covering Britannia grew in our absence.

So we're underway to Savu Savu right now and have spectacular sailing conditions. The seas were big and beamy for the first 12 hours, but are now extremely slight with winds in the 15 to 20 knot range - we've been doing hull speed pretty much for 24 hours straight now.

We're both tired, though I'm finding that I'm sleeping better than I usually do on the first day of a passage - I think there's something to the idea of leaving exhausted. You're going to get exhausted anyhow before you manage to sleep, so you might as well get right to it. Five hours of jetlag doesn't hurt either.

Our time back in the US felt a little dream like, and it's been interesting to feel like I'm snapping out of it since being back. The routine we had at home was ingrained over 10 years, and I think that getting our old jobs back made kept that routine unchanged - it required no thought is I guess what I'm saying. Being on the boat requires lots of thought - dreaming is encouraged as well, but attentiveness is requisite in a way that it's not at home.

Anyhow, it's good to be back. We're missing friends and family back home, but are happy to be back to "real life".

...blast off!

After just a little less than three months, it's time to head back to Britannia tonight.  Thanks to a few much appreciated updates from our cruising friends, we know she's floating and hasn't burned to the waterline.  

People keep asking if we're excited to go back and I often realize that I'm not particularly focused on the excitement part of things. The logistical minutia can be a little too overwhelming, as much as I hate to admit it. The details (How do we get back to Opua?  How do we get on the boat?  How do we check out of customs?  Should we take this weather window even though we'll be tired?  ...and on...) are consuming enough so that I have to take a long deep breath and step back before I can get excited.

It happens though - when we were leaving dinner with the family last night I looked up and realized that the moon was waxing and would be pretty close to full when we're leaving.  I'd lost track of where we are in the lunar cycle; something I hadn't lost track of for the year we were gone.  Moments like that one make me pretty excited to get back to what's starting to feel like real life.

Getting Wired

I've been surprised since we've been back to realize how many people actually read the blog. Blogging is sort of a thankless task really - blasting reports out into the ether is ultimately far less satisfying than just emailing friends and family. But now that I know people are actually reading, I have a little renewed enthusiasm. With that in mind, we're working on getting set up so we can update the blog from the SSB on the boat (actually, we're just figuring out what Lauren Girl already set up for us - thanks Lauren!). The modern world is pretty rad at the end of the day. If this posts, we're wired. It also means our best excuse is now moot, so look for more blog posts this season than last.

We'll be back to the boat around the first of May, and I think we did a pretty good job of leaving her ready to go. We have to provision with fresh stuff, and now that we got a little cash infusion, I'm excited to buy and install solar panels, but otherwise all we have to do is scrub the bottom and then head rhumb line for Fiji.

It's a rough life.

We'll tell you all about it.

-Krister
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At 11/22/2011 8:38 PM (utc) our position was 35°18.69'S 174°14.80'E