June 2006 Suva, Fiji
Update from Suva, Viti Levu 11th June 2006
The last few weeks in Nelson were hectic. Everyone working from Dawn till dark. The hull and cabins received a much needed coat of paint. Food stores were loaded and stowed. After the engine parts finally arrived from Auckland; with Spanner and Kev. from Marine & General we had the engine rebuilt and running in a week.
The big day finally arrived. On a calm Monday morning we motored around to the fuel dock, loaded 3 tons of fuel, cleared customs and motored out into Tasman Bay.
On board were Jared from the U.S. and Kat from Germany as watch leaders, Sharkey, Tiffany and Brittany from the States, Lisa and Jarett from Canada, Robert from Malta, Tom from Australia and former crew Sean from New Zealand.
We arrived in Croiselles Harbour just before dark to anchor for the night to wait for a fair tide in French Pass. After weeks of constant activity it was a pleasant change to be sitting in a quiet anchorage under a brilliant starry sky.
We weighed anchor at dawn and cleared French Pass by late morning just before slack water. Then we continued motoring through the Marlborough Sounds, past Cape Jackson and through Cook Strait. By midnight we passed south of Wellington and by noon we took departure from Cape Paliser and headed for the open sea.
Our 3rd and 4th day in sea area known as Castle Point we were hove to from a nor’westerly gale with a forecast of 40 to 50 knots. By evening the wind backed to the south and moderated. We eased the sheets and sailed north.
By the 7th morning at sea we were again hove to in a nor’westerly gale and drizzling rain. The temperature was just 4 degrees above freezing. Just after midday I beseeched the wind gods verbally, I shouted into the sky, “Enough is enough, we could use a break! Within 5 minutes the wind and rain had stopped. I thought to myself, “Was it over or just the eye of the storm? We had 25 minutes of near calm. Then the wind backed to the sou’west and started to build. Within 5 minutes it was up to full gale force. The air temperature was noticeably warmer at 8 degrees.
We could see a squall line approaching fast with what looked like more rain. As it neared we could see it was not rain but driving sea spray. The surface of the sea was completely white with foam, the air also white with spray. Visibility went from several miles to less than 100 meters. The wind was 90-knots, the spray hit the hull like the sound of gravel and hurt when it struck bare skin. This was a White Squall.
With the fore and Main still reefed from the previous gale Alvei was rolling heavily. We scandalized the peak halyards which eased the heeling. The throat halyards had been lifted off their belaying pins and washed out the freeing ports, jamming them in a tangle of lines.
A gust heeled us over 70 degrees and blew out the inner jib. With the deck half submerged the wind force on the underside of the hull held the schooner down. Jared, Kat and myself stationed on the weather side of the aft cabin, we held on to the cabin and started chanting, “Get-up, get-up, get-up!
As I watched Alvei struggling to right herself I could see Jared was visibly frightened. (He later said it was the most afraid he had been in his life.) Kat was straight faced, cool, almost amused at this moment of truth. I thought, “She’s a cool cookie. Then I thought to myself, “If Alvei goes over we will lose some crew before we sort things out."
Slowly Alvei rose up again. Still heeled 45 degrees another blast of wind stopped the recovery. Another wave passed under her and then up she came.
It was time to do something about those jammed throat halyards and get the rest of the sail off her. Jared, Kat and I made our way to the fore deck. With sheath knife in hand I waded waist deep into the lee scuppers and cut the throat halyard just above the pin-rail. Easing the peak halyard the sail furled nicely.
We made our way back to the main mast, cut the halyard and furled the mail’sl. After that Alvei stood up and danced around the way she usually does in a gale. We put a sea stow on the sails, secured the boats on deck and checked hatches. Then we went below to treat ourselves to a change of dry clothing and let the rest of the crew know the ship was secure.
By dark the wind had moderated to 50 knots, the sea running 8 to 10 meters. The 4 most experienced of us, now including Sean, took 2-hour watches through the night checking the deck every half hour.
We were hove to for another 2 days before the weather moderated enough to reeve off new halyards and repair sails. We found the hydraulic steering gear damaged. It took Sean and I a full day of cutting, forging and welding to jury rig repairs and get the steering gear working again. The rest of the crew were sewing sails and untangling lines.
Day 12 was a Saturday, all hands up at 08:00 for weekly meeting and Field Day to scrub the Ship. The temperature was up to a more comfortable 14 degrees. The wind had backed to a fresh easterly with a lumpy sea on the starboard beam running 3 to 4 meters.
Full and by on a starboard tack, we sailed north for the next week under gray skies and squally weather. We caught a squid and a Dorado each a half meter in length. For another week the wind hauled ahead, we sheeted in. We sailed out from under a stalled occluded front into light variable northerlies.
We waited a day to let the nor’easterly sea subside, then cranked up the ”iron topsail” and motored north through the southern hemisphere’s version of the horse latitudes in search of the trade winds. As the weather warmed a degree a day bare feet and short sleeved shirts begin to appear.
On our 22nd day at sea we crossed into the tropics and had a pleasant 5-day sail through the Lau group to Suva, Fiji. The passage from Nelson to Suva took 27-days and 1800 sea miles. By now we have been a week anchored off the Suva Yacht Club provisioning food, bosun’s stores and making repairs. It is nice being some place warm and calm as we get ready for the 600-mile passage to Vanuatu and our first season working with Project MARC.
The last few weeks in Nelson were hectic. Everyone working from Dawn till dark. The hull and cabins received a much needed coat of paint. Food stores were loaded and stowed. After the engine parts finally arrived from Auckland; with Spanner and Kev. from Marine & General we had the engine rebuilt and running in a week.
The big day finally arrived. On a calm Monday morning we motored around to the fuel dock, loaded 3 tons of fuel, cleared customs and motored out into Tasman Bay.
On board were Jared from the U.S. and Kat from Germany as watch leaders, Sharkey, Tiffany and Brittany from the States, Lisa and Jarett from Canada, Robert from Malta, Tom from Australia and former crew Sean from New Zealand.
We arrived in Croiselles Harbour just before dark to anchor for the night to wait for a fair tide in French Pass. After weeks of constant activity it was a pleasant change to be sitting in a quiet anchorage under a brilliant starry sky.
We weighed anchor at dawn and cleared French Pass by late morning just before slack water. Then we continued motoring through the Marlborough Sounds, past Cape Jackson and through Cook Strait. By midnight we passed south of Wellington and by noon we took departure from Cape Paliser and headed for the open sea.
Our 3rd and 4th day in sea area known as Castle Point we were hove to from a nor’westerly gale with a forecast of 40 to 50 knots. By evening the wind backed to the south and moderated. We eased the sheets and sailed north.
By the 7th morning at sea we were again hove to in a nor’westerly gale and drizzling rain. The temperature was just 4 degrees above freezing. Just after midday I beseeched the wind gods verbally, I shouted into the sky, “Enough is enough, we could use a break! Within 5 minutes the wind and rain had stopped. I thought to myself, “Was it over or just the eye of the storm? We had 25 minutes of near calm. Then the wind backed to the sou’west and started to build. Within 5 minutes it was up to full gale force. The air temperature was noticeably warmer at 8 degrees.
We could see a squall line approaching fast with what looked like more rain. As it neared we could see it was not rain but driving sea spray. The surface of the sea was completely white with foam, the air also white with spray. Visibility went from several miles to less than 100 meters. The wind was 90-knots, the spray hit the hull like the sound of gravel and hurt when it struck bare skin. This was a White Squall.
With the fore and Main still reefed from the previous gale Alvei was rolling heavily. We scandalized the peak halyards which eased the heeling. The throat halyards had been lifted off their belaying pins and washed out the freeing ports, jamming them in a tangle of lines.
A gust heeled us over 70 degrees and blew out the inner jib. With the deck half submerged the wind force on the underside of the hull held the schooner down. Jared, Kat and myself stationed on the weather side of the aft cabin, we held on to the cabin and started chanting, “Get-up, get-up, get-up!
As I watched Alvei struggling to right herself I could see Jared was visibly frightened. (He later said it was the most afraid he had been in his life.) Kat was straight faced, cool, almost amused at this moment of truth. I thought, “She’s a cool cookie. Then I thought to myself, “If Alvei goes over we will lose some crew before we sort things out."
Slowly Alvei rose up again. Still heeled 45 degrees another blast of wind stopped the recovery. Another wave passed under her and then up she came.
It was time to do something about those jammed throat halyards and get the rest of the sail off her. Jared, Kat and I made our way to the fore deck. With sheath knife in hand I waded waist deep into the lee scuppers and cut the throat halyard just above the pin-rail. Easing the peak halyard the sail furled nicely.
We made our way back to the main mast, cut the halyard and furled the mail’sl. After that Alvei stood up and danced around the way she usually does in a gale. We put a sea stow on the sails, secured the boats on deck and checked hatches. Then we went below to treat ourselves to a change of dry clothing and let the rest of the crew know the ship was secure.
By dark the wind had moderated to 50 knots, the sea running 8 to 10 meters. The 4 most experienced of us, now including Sean, took 2-hour watches through the night checking the deck every half hour.
We were hove to for another 2 days before the weather moderated enough to reeve off new halyards and repair sails. We found the hydraulic steering gear damaged. It took Sean and I a full day of cutting, forging and welding to jury rig repairs and get the steering gear working again. The rest of the crew were sewing sails and untangling lines.
Day 12 was a Saturday, all hands up at 08:00 for weekly meeting and Field Day to scrub the Ship. The temperature was up to a more comfortable 14 degrees. The wind had backed to a fresh easterly with a lumpy sea on the starboard beam running 3 to 4 meters.
Full and by on a starboard tack, we sailed north for the next week under gray skies and squally weather. We caught a squid and a Dorado each a half meter in length. For another week the wind hauled ahead, we sheeted in. We sailed out from under a stalled occluded front into light variable northerlies.
We waited a day to let the nor’easterly sea subside, then cranked up the ”iron topsail” and motored north through the southern hemisphere’s version of the horse latitudes in search of the trade winds. As the weather warmed a degree a day bare feet and short sleeved shirts begin to appear.
On our 22nd day at sea we crossed into the tropics and had a pleasant 5-day sail through the Lau group to Suva, Fiji. The passage from Nelson to Suva took 27-days and 1800 sea miles. By now we have been a week anchored off the Suva Yacht Club provisioning food, bosun’s stores and making repairs. It is nice being some place warm and calm as we get ready for the 600-mile passage to Vanuatu and our first season working with Project MARC.