We’re 53 hours and 458 nautical miles into our return trip to New Zealand. We planned to leave Wednesday but at 9:30 a.m. Tuesday after reviewing the weather reports, Rod said let’s go – battened down the hatches (literally) – and pulled out of our Kadavu Island anchorage on a nice sunny morning. As soon as we cleared the reef outside the island we were in open ocean going up and down over reasonably good sized waves. We’ve probably averaged 15-20 knots of wind so far, very consistent. Rod expects the wind to die off tomorrow and we will change course and start motorsailing directly into it, or just motor if the wind dies completely.
Anyhow it would appear that this will be an uneventful passage weather-wise, which is fine with us! There are a lot of yachts all heading towards New Zealand at the same time. In the evenings we tune into a ham radio station in Russell, New Zealand. All the yachts call into the station and take turns reporting their position, heading and boat speed. A little like filing an ongoing flight plan. However we have not seen a single boat visually yet, although the first night out Mike spotted one on radar about five miles away…traveling slower than Raven and presumably well behind us now.
It is a big ocean! Mostly the depth along our route is some 3,000 meters, although I saw one spot on the chart a little off our path that was nearly 7,000 (more than 4 miles) deep. We all take 2 hour shifts standing watch – 2 hours on, 6 hours off. This is a luxury for Rod and Anouk who usually stand watch 4 hours on 4 hours off, 24 hours a day. The rest of the time we sleep (a lot), read, and steal snacks from the galley. The ride is too bouncy to do much else! If this were a jetliner I’d be pretty alarmed at the turbulence!
Raven has a great feature we are now fully appreciating. She has a roomy pilot house, roofed and glassed in on three sides. As we sail into the waves they break over the bow and flood along the deck, ultimately draining out the stern through scuppers. Without the pilot house each wave would slosh over us as well, but instead we are dry and comfy on a soft cushion with all the instruments needed to navigate the boat. Rod’s own classic (built in 1905) 50′ sailboat Uhwilna has made this trip more than once; without a pilot house it’s foul weather gear most of the way and everything wet, including the bunk bedding!
On my watch last night a flying fish came whizzing aboard and thumped down on the deck and flapped around a bit. This happens relatively frequently, but it being my first exposure to it, I didn’t realize at once what had happened. Checking with the flashlight, I found him not too far away, so threw him back overboard. He had landed right next to Rod and Anouk’s hatch, which was closed for the passage – otherwise they could well have had a flying fish land on their pillow.
Our first night out of Fiji was the night of Diwali, an Indian festival also called Festival of Lights, which takes place on the darkest night of the year. I still don’t know what determines the darkest night of the whole year – obviously no moon is the first requirement. Anyhow it was a very dark night, great for star viewing, and some sparkles of phosphorescence in our wake.
We expect to land in New Zealand on Sunday (Saturday US) ahead of our ticketed departure date of the 14th – we’ll decide later whether to hang out in New Zealand or up our return schedule. I’m sure the weather in New Zealand will influence the final decision.