Don't Bug Me

Distance: 120/1347 Vava'u to Auckland Day: 3

I really hate mosquitos. They can take an otherwise picture perfect location and make it absolutely miserable. Last night, we were attacked by a swarm of killer blood suckers. These things only attack when the wind is light or non-existent. So everyone was already sweltering in the cabins, slowly dissolving in puddles of sticky sweat. Then muzzzz buzzz whiizzzzz, the sound of an aerial assault triggered frantic door shutting and screen positioning. We then beat the sides of the boat into submission as we smacked roughly five million, blood filled mosquitoes onto the white fibreglass roof of the cabins, there to remain as a Rorschach testimony to our terminal stupidity in parking downwind of an island with a known history of flying insects.

We're leaving Ha'apai today on the edge of a rather squally trough. It's wet and cold and windy. I wish we could have lingered in this chain, and I strongly recommend to those who follow in our wake to plan better. Provision up in Neiafu and spend time in the Ha'apai group. Miscellaneous uncharted low spots notwithstanding, it is really nice down here. No provisions, no bars, and no boats. Just anchorages in every direction where you can drop off the transom and enjoy an afternoon of snorkeling. Every place we've stopped (albeit it was only three), we've been able to dally in a coral forest. I suspect this area is a paradise to divers as well given the many islets and reef walls. So make a point of giving yourself a few weeks down here before you head south to Nuka'alofa.

We did not. So here we are motor sailing to the big city. It's 60 miles downwind from last night's anchorage at an island called Nomoua (don't ask me to pronounce that). Tomorrow will be a flurry of activity as we fuel up, provision, check out, and please pray to all the gods of bureaucrats get the cat's import paperwork. The weather window is perfect for going to New Zealand if we'd left day before yesterday. It's not clear it will continue to hold. It does appear that we're good to go at least to Minerva Reef where we could wait to see what develops.

Is it my imagination or is the water already getting colder?

~ Toast
20 23.03S 174 52.98W
Oct 5 2011 18:30 UTC

Threading a Reef Needle

Distance: 95/1347 Vava'u to Auckland Day: 2

We had a very pleasant, flat and easy downwind sail on the spinnaker yesterday. The only problem is that we were winding our way through an unconscionable number of rocks, reefs, islands and underwater hazards. Geography is a bitch. Like all Tonga, Ha'apai is along a ridge line which stretches north to south. This ridge towers over the surrounding oceanic valleys, never mind the incredibly deep trench just east of here. Sailing the Ha'apai group is like flying past the tippy tops of a mountain range. This mountain range blocks swell and no small fraction of the wind from the east, but it poses its own hazards. Occasional ridge lines stretch out westwards from the main north south line pushing into our path. It's just part of the entire experience that most of these tops are not actually above sea level. Fortunately, the charts are reasonably accurate and shallow spots can generally be spotted from a distance.

We only had a near miss with the sea bottom once. Needless to say, it was an unnerving experience. We were sailing downwind at about 5 knots in gentle winds. The depth was out of the range of our depth sounder, so easily over 500 feet. There were shallows marked off to the starboard and the port but we were threading between two islets so there was reason to be cautious. I was on the helm at the time, of course. These things always seem to happen when I am on the helm. I think the fates do this to give DrC someone to yell at. Doing a horizon scan, I see just ahead an abrupt change in water color that I swear had not been there a moment before. The angle of the sun can make a huge difference in these situations, and this shallow spot just wasn't visible until we were basically on top of it. I shout to the family, glance down and without transition from "no reading", the depth sounder registered 180, plummeted to 70, then 40. The family scrambled on deck, DrC pointing to the starboard. I turn the wheel over as the depth dropped to 20, then 15, then bottomed out at 6 before heading up again. DrC unnecessarily called, "We're over it."

No shit.

6 on our depth sounder means that there was an uncharted shallow between these islets at a depth of 10 feet. At 10 feet, a coral head can easily grow up into keel grabbing height for our boat, let alone our monohull brethren with their deeper drafts. Jaime patted my back and noted that that was, "Quite a nail biter, Mom." Oh yeah. I was shaking a bit. Turning back, the shallow was obvious for nearly half a mile. Of course. Angle of the sun. For a few moments, I think DrC wanted to tear a strip out of my hide, but then he looked forward and realized the problem. The sea was an unremarkable dark blue in every direction facing forward even though we knew there were additional shallows to port and starboard. It was only looking back that the sea was broken into large puzzle pieces of blues, turquoises, pale greens, and reef tans. Coral heads we had safely passed showed in sharp relief against the shallow sandy bottom while it appeared as though everything ahead was over 600 feet down. By such small graces, I escaped a lecture.

So all I can say is be careful when transiting the Ha'apai group. It is very pretty here, quite remote, and the snorkeling is magnificent. It would also be quite embarrassing for you to get your boat all the way from North and Central America and run the thing aground on the last leg of the journey. We'll try to avoid that little humiliation today for our last hop before heading for Tongatapu. I also think that if the visibility is poor, I'm just going to put DrC on the helm and save myself the stress and bother.

~ Toast
19 56.1S 174 42.8W Haafeva Island, Ha'apai, Kingdom of Tonga
Oct 4 2011 19:00 UTC

Passage Through Ha'apai

Distance: 67/1347 Vava'u to Auckland Day: 1

Somehow even after all this time I still fail to calculate passage times realistically. We gave ourselves a week through the Ha'apai island chain then we left a day late. What we -- okay I -- failed to count was the following:

* One full day 65 NM day to get to Ha'apai
* Another full 60 NM day to get from Ha'apai to Tongutapu
* At least two sails of > 25 miles to move from place to place within the islands
* We MUST be in Tongatapu by Thursday night if we want to check out Friday

So instead of leisurely visiting some pretty, isolated islands in paradise, we're actually just doing a passage which happens to include a few stops. We have three stops here in Ha'apai, one in Tongatapu, one on Minerva Reef, and then we'll be in New Zealand. The entire trip should take about 3 weeks.

*sigh*

I mean that... not just a relaxed gentle sigh but a major, asterisked and punctuated *sigh*. I should probably even capitalize it.

On the upside, the girls don't do school on passages so they are delighted.

~ Toast
19 45.79S 174 20.75W Foa Island, Ha'apai, Kingdom of Tonga
Oct 3 2011 18:00 UTC (Oct 4 at 7am just to confuse things)

Running Hot or Cold

Tonga is a beautiful place with amazing coral. It also has lousy weather in September. We are either baking in the sun without a breath of wind, or we are freezing in the overcast and drizzle with too much wind to be in any but the most protected anchorages. There appears to be no middle ground. Yesterday, we baked in Neiafu. Today, we'll move the boat in the brisk breeze down to some of the southern-most islands in the Vava'u group.

For those not familiar with Tongan geography, a very brief primer is in order as we are about to swing through the entire kingdom. The island nation is largely spread north to south in four major island groups: Niuas, Vava'u, Ha'apai, and Tongatapu. The population is roughly 100,000 with most of those living in either Nuka'alofa in Tongatapu or up here in Neiafu in Vava'u. Cruisers can check in and out only in Nuka'alofa and Neiafu. So geography dictates one of two major cruising routes through Tonga. If you are headed for Australia, you come into the Vava'u group and probably never visit any other part of the Kingdom. The Vava'u group features all the cruiser ameneties you need for a nice visit and provisioning stop before you continue on your way to Fiji, Vanuatu, and New Caledonia. If, however, you are New Zealand bound, this is your last country before heading in for the monsoon season. You check in to Neiafu, spend a few weeks tasting the Vava'u anchorages, then you make your way south. If you are hardy and the weather is cooperative, you'll taste the pristine and largely unpopulated anchorages of Ha'apai before you head down to Tongatapu. From there, you'll check out of Nuka'alofa, get duty free fuel but no booze (since you won't have time to drink it before arriving in Opua, Auckland or Whangarei), and then hang out until the weather cooperates for the passage south.

Obviously, we are on a very rapid version of the New Zealand bound trajectory. We've lingered in the Vava'u group because this is where all our friends our. Those headed to Oz had lingered as well enjoying last potlucks, sundowners and rugby games before the fleet splits in two. Those headed south are lingering because honestly, there is no point in heading south until the last possible moment. Who wants to arrive in New Zealand while it is still colder than Santa's butt on Christmas morning? We have put off leaving Vava'u until quite literally the last possible moment. In that time, we have had the pleasure of dinner with Catachaos, drinks with Casulo, and diving with Loose Pointer. There really was no reason to leave. Now there is.

We have a hard stop on our time in Tonga since our visas run out Friday. This is good. We need to go south to New Zealand anyway. The visa deadline is just another motivator. We'll head out today or tomorrow and work our way through Ha'apai and on down to Tongatapu. We'll probably only spend a day or two there. Ideally, our cat import permit will have FINALLY arrived. We'll also provision, fuel up, and get set up with others heading to New Zealand. Then I think we'll go almost immediately to Minerva Reef. I've been monitoring conditions out there, and it seems that Minerva has been experiencing a very steady run of good weather. As long as that holds, its several hundred miles closer to New Zealand and a better place to wait for the window south to Auckland. After that, we hold until we see something in the gribs that gives us reason to be optimistic.

We hear many theories on how to do this passage. They range from Two Amigos: "You're going to get hit, so you might as well just go." To Pelagic: "Head for 30S 175E and then hove to until you see a break in the weather and then motor south." To Hipnautical: "Wait in Nuka'alofa till you see the Kiwis pull their anchors and then leave. Follow them." Kiwis say online and in person that every time they do the trip, it is different. It's never fun, it's rarely horrible. While heinous squash zones -can- form with winds in the 60s and 70s, those are actually predictable and usually avoidable. More likely, there will be a day with 30 on the nose, a day with 30 on the beam, and a few days with no wind at all. Since leaving Mexico, we've seen 30 on the nose and on the beam and from behind, we've spent days in 5 meter seas, and we know what all of that looks like. It's not fun, but it's rarely horrible. We will be okay.

For family, it is time to watch the YOTREPS reports again. I will try to post our position at least once a day from here till we arrive at the dock in Auckland. Everybody please send us positive thoughts for fair winds and following seas... and cross all your tingers and foes for the timely arrival of Dulcinea's paperwork.