16º 03.879s 145º 37.176w
Mon Jun 10 2019
We
had a lovely sail from Kauehi, a total of about 48 nm and a bit under 9 hours
anchor to anchor. The tidal guestimator absolutely nailed the departure through
the Kauehi pass; our speed through water and speed over ground matched one
another. We were looking at about 6 hours before we wanted to arrive at the
North pass of Fakarava to enjoy another slack current entry, and with the wind
and gust spread using the Parasailor looked a bit sporty. After upping anchor
we rolled out the jib and tooled along the channel towards the Kauehi pass, a
journey of about 9 miles, making around 6 knots on a nice reach. No reason to
raise the main as that speed would optimize our arrival time at the pass. It
worked perfectly, and once through the pass we turned hard to starboard for our
course line, and that put the wind dead astern. Given the forecast for winds
and the gust spread, flying the Parasailor might have been sporty, so we
elected to set the simbo/twizzle rig for the passage between atolls. We were
making about 45% of true wind speed, 5 – 6 knots speed over ground, and that
put us at the North Pass of Fakarava right on schedule for the afternoon slack
current event. There was a Danish couple on a monohull called Macumba just a
little bit ahead of us sailing along with just their big genoa up, and they
were just slightly faster than us, but enjoying that typical monohull roll
while sailing dead downwind. There was a Kiwi family on a big Lagoon 420 called
Gabian behind us, and initially we were pulling away from them but they
deployed their spinnaker and soon overtook us.
No
matter what cruisers say, there’s always the urge to race when another boat is
on the horizon. AIS has made that more interesting as the Class B units many of
us have publish boat speed over ground at 3-minute intervals. We saw Gabian
coming for us and it was difficult to resist the urge to whip out the
Parasailor and show them what we could do, but our speed towards the objective
was perfect for the transition through the pass so we suppressed the urge to
whip their butts.
Back
in the distance was an Amel 46 with a lovely Australian couple on board. They
got a slightly later start than we did, but also deployed a twizzle rig, but as
a monohulls the rolled right along on the dead downwind course line.
Regardless, they made the pass with reasonable current and were on anchor well
before dark.
Within
about ½ mile to the pass it was time to fire up the iron jennys and stow the
jibs. When we’re maneuvering in an anchorage or transiting a pass we generally
run both diesels for the added safety margin. Once through the pass we turned
towards the village of Rotoava at the Northeast end of the atoll, and the
15-knot breeze was now dead on the bow, so it was motor city the rest of the
way in. Might as well run the water maker with all this extra electricity, and
also a chance to blow the smoke out of the diesels. Some diesel mechanics will
say that we don’t run our engines hard enough, and occasionally we should run
them at a very high rpm and load to clear any soot out. Never seen a change in
the exhaust to indicate they’re right, but we do occasionally remember to
follow the procedure. Makes a lot of noise. As my test pilot friend Jimmy
“Jett” Thompson once said about flying a Beaver, about the last inch and a half
of throttle travel is just a volume control. The fuel burn goes up dramatically
along with the noise level, but very little airspeed is gained.
Anyway,
we motored on up to the village, and with maintenance procedures completed and
water galore, we looked at the spread of boats for a suitable spot to anchor
JollyDogs. We had read that the few public mooring balls had not been well
maintained and were to be avoided. Wandering slowly through the anchorage,
noting the depth and looking for bommies, we finally decided on a spot where we
could drop the anchor and drop back between 2 catamarans, Gabian who had beat
us in there, and another bigger cat we didn’t know. The water was too turbid to
see the bottom but we could make out the shadows of bommies, so Isabel guided
us to an anchor drop spot in about 30 feet of water. Anchor down, she slowly
fed chain out as I backed us gently away towards where we should eventually
rest. It all worked a charm, we switched roles and I installed the bridle, then
she pulled down with thrust equivalent to a 30-knot blow. We weren’t moving so
assumed the anchor had a good set, so I donned my snorkel gear to verify.
Unfortunately, the water was so turbid I couldn’t find the anchor, and we don’t
generally have a float on the anchor to mark its position. Given our perfect 80
meter spacing between the two cats, we decided it would do for the night.
Off
to port was a Neel trimaran (44’?) flying an Australian ensign. They were on
one of the public moorings, so off I went in the dinghy to say hello and tell
them what a badass looking boat they had. Everyone likes hearing that! They
were a lovely couple and advised me on a great spot for dinner, Rotoava Grill,
where we discussed enjoying the meal together. I returned to JollyDogs to
inform my faithful crew and co-captain that there would be no cooking on board
tonight, and there were smiles all around.
We
dinghied ashore and found the restaurant which didn’t open for another few
minutes, so had a stroll towards the South end of the Village. We passed the
Catholic church where a service was in progress, and Isabel noted we better get
a table before church let out. We turned and headed back towards the North end
of the village for a quick tour. The area was well lit with street lights and
folks were about, but we spied no other open restaurants or shops. Satisfied
that our initial excursion had resulted in the tiniest of exercise, we returned
to the restaurant where we joined Stephen (Aussie) and Yvonne (Dutch) for a
lovely meal.
Isabel
and I both settled on the classic French dish steak frites dinner, she with
Roquefort sauce and me with au poivre. Both dishes were absolutely wonderful,
and at about $12 US each who could complain about the price? It certainly would
have cost more back home, and we wouldn’t have been sitting under the stars by
the beach. Nothing wrong with this picture.