Anaho Bay to Daniel's Bay

8º 56.704s 140º 09.898w

Thu May 23 2019

We’re settling into “being”, perhaps a bit more than “doing”. It’s a relaxing feeling. Anaho Bay was a lovely place, but after our goat and coconut milk curry and with the wind calming and the no nos (tiny little annoying flying insects) finding us a bit too interesting, it was time to move on. Yesterday we committed ourselves to high adventure, almost completing our circumnavigation of Nuku Hiva. Launching out from Anaho Bay in calm conditions we soon had the simbo/twizzle rig deployed and found ourselves doing about 40% of the 8 knots true wind.

About then was when Isabel wanted to know if we’d be better off tacking downwind while keeping the apparent wind at no deeper than 130 degrees, rather than accepting the lower speed of the current sail plan with a direct course line. Well, VMG is pretty easy to figure out when you’re pointing straight at the waypoint, but it involves both assumptions and geometry for the generally accepted catamaran deep downwind sailing method of moving faster but off the course line. We looked at the true wind, pondered our navels about very slight leeway, considered it negligible, then considered our sail plan options, including both the full main and jib, or swapping the jib for the screecher.

The screecher is a lovely sail and doesn’t take long to rig on the bowsprit. Neil Tasker of Barracouta sails built us a long, narrow and nicely vented sailbag to quickly secure the screecher on deck with full sun protection, and that’s where it’s been living when not erected on the bowsprit. It is bad form to leave it up when there’s a risk of a strong squall, and the stainless steel bowsprit guys chafe against the anchor bridle so we lower and stow it at while at anchor. Stowing the screecher in a way that makes it easy to rig and deploy ensures that we’ll use it in the appropriate conditions rather than take a “can’t be bothered” approach to life. The screecher does have some limitations concerning maximum apparent wind and it hates lumpy seas, so we have to convince ourselves that the wind and seaway aren’t going to abuse the sail before we get it out. In the right conditions substituting the screecher for the jib can fetch us 1 – 2 knots or even more, so it’s a fun sail to use.

Yesterday’s conditions were pretty variable and the seas were a bit lumpy so we stuck with the simbo rig. After crunching the numbers we concluded that in the lighter current conditions we’d be slightly better off with the current setup. As well, the course around the island had us going dead down wind, almost due West, followed by a 90 degree turn to South, then finally another 90 degree turn to the East before arriving at Daniel’s Bay, and the legs were short. The wind did freshen a bit and come round as we made the turn South, so up went the main, we let the two jibs lay on one another, and we were soon blasting along at over 7 knots SOG. Isabel was happy! We had stood off a couple miles in the lee of the shore, and at first the lower terrain didn’t seem to affect the Easterly wind. I was reminded of my test pilot friend Roger Hehr’s wind tunnel research background and his comment to me that in order to avoid the effects of a disturbance in the airflow we’d need to be at least 7 times the height of the offending object downwind of that object. Well, we weren’t or it didn’t work out yesterday, and all of a sudden the lovely wind went from 18 knots on the beam to about 3, honestly in the blink of an eye. The terrain had abruptly risen as well, so there was correlation, and one can assume causation.

Anyway, after flailing about for a bit at perhaps 1.5 knots SOG, we finally threw in the towel. Rolled up the jib, fired up a diesel and hardened the main sheet. The main did give us a bit of drive and we did expect conditions to improve as we approached the Southwest corner of the landmass, so up it stayed. Expectations were exceeded as we rounded the corner and suddenly we were blasting along again, but this time with 1 meter seas forward of the beam so it was a bit splashy and bumpy. A beautiful Hanse 505 thundered past us demonstrating that yes, properly rigged and sailed monohulls generally outperform cruising cats when going upwind, but we were in no mood to race anyway so we continued our motor sailing. The inlet to the anchorage was only about a mile away and we were already thinking about where we could maneuver in flatter seas to drop the main.

We got in the lee of the landmass on the way into the bay, on came the second diesel and away the main went. All tidied up we continued on around the corner and into a small bay surrounded by stunning scenery. We’ve been some pretty beautiful places over the years – our favorites include Doubtful Sound and Milford Sound on the South island of New Zealand, and heck, I grew up in the Great Smokey Mountains National Park, but holy guacamole this place knocked our socks off!

As we were setting our anchor, a lovely Swiss fellow from the Hanse 505 called out, wondering if we might like some wahoo, as he had caught a rather large one. Our own lures had yielded nothing, so we were delighted to answer in the affirmative. A quick dinghy ride over was rewarded by several large fillets, and he asked us if we could distribute the remainder to other boats in the anchorage. Well, there’s no better way to make new friends and we were happy to oblige. The lovely folks on Hullabaloo and Acapella of Belfast got lucky, and it turned out Mr. X was in there so Ian and Manuela got the last big chunk.

It was mid-afternoon, so naturally we were invited aboard Mr. X for tea and biscuits, and soon another fellow joined us, then it was time for a sundowner, and we got back to JollyDogs about dark. Isabel whipped up a wahoo curry for dinner, the night sky was cloud free and packed with stars, and thus ended another day in paradise.

I could get used to this!