CRUISING - Harry & Mary's Year 2001 Adventure

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Voyages of Sugar Blues

H&M's 2001 Adventure Index

  We're Off!

  Jan. 21 - Letter from Oz

  Australia to New Zealand 
  on Pat's Cat

  Pat's Cat in Fiji

  Fiji to Vanuatu

  Port Vila to Oz

  Snapshots

Port Vila to Oz

(No, not the one Dorothy and Todo went to)

From Harry and Mary Abbott in Fiji - received via email Sept 27, 2001...

The alarm woke me just before midnight. The moon was only a few days past full so the night was bright in spite of the cloud carried in by a passing front. Flashing lights guided us past the reefs guarding the entrance to Port Vila. We cleared Devils Point and settled down for 300 miles of empty ocean. Next stop, Huon Reef, the most northerly of the chain above New Caldonia. It was also the first of a three step voyage back to Australia and the end of this story.

Eight months have flown by. It was supposed to have been a year's cruise, but unfortunately, Pat's business has forced him to shorten the trip a bit. So - with luck - we should have Pat's Cat back in its Southport slip within the month. Still, a nine month paid holiday in the South Pacific is nothing to shake a stick at.

After a few hours we were clear of Efate's wind shadow and I rolled out the screecher. At sunrise the spinnaker replaced it. The knotmeter registered its satisfaction. With one on watch and two either sleeping or reading, the small Autohelm steered us westward. We loafed along at seven to eight knots just as advertised and seen on TV.

Upps, the afternoon weatherfax showed a small frontal system under New Caledonia which extended right on up to us. Sure enough, the wind piped up and seas became choppy. Another forty miles of bad road. On the last night, even with the jib almost rolled up, I couldn't keep under six knots so at 2 AM I hove to. Three hours later we rolled out the jib and rounded into Huon Atoll as the sun rose. We anchored in six meters in an unpaintable turquoise lagoon.

Huon Reef is roughly seven by twenty miles with a large seven mile wide pass on one side. Only one small island sticks its head out of the sea. It rises to a majestic height of ten feet and is composed of some scrub and sand. Both are important. Birds by the thousands nest here. So many, in fact, that sometimes the only safe path to walk is along the beach at low tide. We are a month early to see the sand put to its best use. Still there are a number of caterpillar tracks on the beach already. Giant sea turtles use Huon for laying their eggs. On our first trip ashore we saw about fifty turtles at the water's edge. Our best guess was that they were resting up from their trip here. A few of the males are already feeling randy and are engaging in behavior unsuitable for children or old yachties to see, i.e. turtle sex. (In...) In another month, though, this place is sin city, turtles screwing everywhere, males lined up waiting, chewing on the guy in front's flippers trying to hurry him up. (Out...) Every evening the females make their laborious trek up the beach to dig a hole and lay 100 to 150 eggs. (In...) If you sit quietly on the beach they will crawl right by you. (Out...) Once she starts laying, you can come quite close and take photos or videos. Nothing stops her at this point. At the moment most tracks simply go up the beach and return, sort of a test run, I guess. We have watched a hole dug, a good one hour exercise, only to have her test the sand at the bottom and fill it back in. Women! Who can understand them?

We did a one and a half hour walk around the island, Mary collecting shells as we went. Later we had a cooling snorkel along the shore. Mary was wearing only her hat during all this (well, not the snorkeling, silly) so afterwards she had a little trouble sitting down. Just great! Guess who was stuck with the messy job of rubbing cream on all the sunburned bits?

We had one last afternoon swim with the turtles. The water had 100 foot plus visibility and was only about five feet deep where we were. Turtles were everywhere. Most ignored us unless we came nose to nose, which was a bit disconcerting after we had watched that beak chew on a competitor's flipper. It was easy to spot the females. They were the ones on the bottom. If you stayed ten feet away they ignored you. It's the males that get the abuse. One female had her significant other already in place but how he maintained any sort of concentration I don't know. One male was biting his tail, another his neck, and two others his front flippers. Seems to be a good case for abstinence.

All night long the wind generator hummed, and in the morning we woke to a brisk SSE wind. Three reefs and a jib and we headed west once again at a fairly comfortable nine knots.

The second and last night at sea, I stepped out into the cockpit. What was left of the moon had yet to appear in the clear black sky. I watched a planet rise out of our wake, wishing I knew if it was Jupiter or Saturn. A more peaceful place you could not imagine. I chewed on a chocolate chip cookie and gave some thought to our information age. In the past I've gotten Christmas cards in July and never knew that Nixon resigned for six months after it happened. Only recently people received a pile of lost post cards almost exactly a year after we mailed them from the Southern Australs. Now? Well, now the satellite phone rings and Pat's wife updated us on the worst disaster in U.S. history. We are on the information highway, no U turns, no exits, no rest stops. Cell phones are the on ramp and a prerequisite for grade school. Have you checked your e-mail this hour? No one asked, "Sir, have we interrupted your life, invaded your space with news that you can do nothing about, news that will make you feel angry, sad, lost, physically impotent in your ability to respond. Sorry if we bothered you. Go back to your island. Have a nice day". The first rays of dawn help to evaporate black thoughts and illuminate a small scrub and sand bump in the middle of no where. We weave between bombies and anchor in the lee. Ashore there are no turtles yet but Chesterfield Reef proves even more prolific with bird life than Huon.

The scrub provides suitable nesting for the boobies and the frigates. Fuzzy chicks precariously sit in their nests awaiting food delivery. The most interesting are the flightless rails. How did they get here? Bus? Taxi? It's still 450 miles to Oz, a heck of a swim.

I hit the bunk at seven and didn't move until sunrise.

A weather fax rolled off the machine and we all study it intently like we knew something about weather. Weather is like girl turtles, I reckon. Who can understand it? Anyway, it looked good for a few days so by noon we were rounding the reef's edge and on course for the 500 mile passage to Brisbane. We close-reached into nine knots of true wind and flat seas, knot meter at seven to eight. The full main was up, first time in months.

In spite of my complaining about the increasing numbers of boats out here, the ocean is a vast place. The odds of seeing another yacht is extremely high, so it was a real surprise to come across a yacht within the first hour out. They were out of Brisbane, headed for Vanuatu via Chesterfield Reef. Early the next day we crossed paths with a French single-hander also headed to Brisbane. Here we were in the middle of a million square miles of Coral Sea and we bloody well pass within a hundred meters of each other. Just shows that you can't doze off.

By now the sun was beating down on an oily windless sea and our two eighteen horsepower Yanmars were puffing their little hearts out. The situation was not to last, however, as even more descriptive of the sea than vast is changeable. By late afternoon we were looking at a solid black wall that stretched from horizon to horizon. We dogged down the hatches, and secured the valuables (chocolate chip cookies) and drove straight into a 35 knot wall of rain. It was dead from the south so we laid ahull until morning. Gawd, what a night! It definitely was a "If I ever get on a boat again, shoot me" type of night. Your author went crook, the captain was feeding the fish, and Mary's husband didn't look too good either. Unfortunately there is no rest for the beautiful and a slightly green Captain resumed his watch later that night.

At first light, we put up a triple reefed main and a bit of jib. Winds were down to 18 to 20. seas were still rough. We continued bouncing south.

The next 36 hours slowly improved. Speed stayed around eight knots, eventually dying enough to shake out a reef and roll out the rest of the jib. A new moon brought a black universe filled with dots of light. I stood outside. The Southern Cross lay on its side directly in our path. How many ancient navigators have followed it? Behind us lights from a large freighter passed. Bright floods of light pinpoint the trawlers working around us. And even though we are still 45 miles off shore, I can see the loom of "civilization" hiding in the blurred shadow of sky and earth.

By morning we will be tied to the customs dock and the trip will essentially be over. We still have to deliver the boat about another 30 miles south to its home, but that's minor after 5000 sea miles.

On one hand, it's sad to see it end. I have no doubt that this will be my last major ocean passage. (wanna bet? editor) Perhaps its time, after 28 years. On the other hand both Mary and I are excited about getting stuffed into unfinished projects at home. Our many thanks to Pat for the opportunity to sail on such a great boat and to be able ot treat it as our own. Besides being beyond generous, he's a right fairdinkum bloke.

And our thanks to all of you for letting us share the experience . That's the really fun part. Without the written record, memories of islands like Pago Pago and Bora Bora and Aurora Borealis would fade back into the sea from where they came.

This trip was a spur of the moment, gut decision but I don't think I'll ever regret it. You can dream about it, but unless you act on it, it's all nothing. Like Tom Waits says, "Fishin' for a good time starts with throwin' in the line."

Postscript: 
The trickle down effects of the disaster even reach us. United is cutting back flights, laying off, and may even cancel companion pass tickets soon. We may be stuck here in Oz. Will update you if and when we reach Seattle.

 Aloha from Harry and Mary

For replies, Mary and Harry's address is:
telapa@whidbey.net