Log Date: November 8, 2006

Location: Opua Harbour, NZ

We were so long at Vuda Point Marina that we literally forgot how to sail.  We have logged over 15,000 miles blue water sailing. We found that a little respite in a marina, can throw you for a loop!  Mystic Traveler officially cleared out of Lautoka, Fiji at around 1400 on October 16,2006. We are calling this, "Susan's Birthday Passage".

It was a pleasant motor sail out the pass.  Once in open water the seas were 4-5' with very little wind, so it was a tad bit rough trying to get through them. The wind filled in, then quickly began to build while we began to reduce sails.  It blew 25-30 Knots with higher gusts. The most I saw was 42 Knots. This lasted for the next 3 days.  We hove-to (parking the boat offshore) after day 2 and slept. We were beat.  How could the weather guys be so wrong?

The first thing to break was our "speed-o-meter".  Susan fixed it - it worked for a couple of hours and died again. A day later it started working on its own and continued working the remainder of the trip. So I don't even know if I can really call it broken.  It was a major bummer when our autopilot died - about 200 miles from Lautoka.  The question was do we go back or keep going south.  We kept going - rationalizing that we had the wind vane and CPT above deck autopilot to steer the boat so we should be OK.  The first night the autopilot was broken we took turns - an hour on - an hour off - steering the boat in 30 plus wind and good size seas. By the end of the hour our shoulders were stiff and sore.  The next day we rigged our backup autopilot and although it steers the boat, it is undersized and needs personal assistance sometimes. We weren't comfortable to stray far from the helm.  Much to my amazement we found it could hold a course in over 10' seas.

After a while the partially furled genoa (large sail at the bow) decided to unfurl itself.  Susan tried to tame it in by furling it but all she gets when she pulls on the line is the frayed end of a chafed line and the sail has not retreated.  Yup, we were screwed.  The furling line had chafed through, now we have a massive (135% genoa) fully extended.  We decided to attach a new furling line.  We dropped the main and sailed downwind with just the genoa.  The boat is thundering through the seas making over 8 knots with the bow continuously underwater.  Susan drew the short straw and was on the bow taking a submarine ride with water now breaking over her. 

Rewinding the furling line is a major ordeal with the sail is up, in strong winds and lumpy seas.  After about 45 minutes she lumbers back to the cockpit - soaked.  Pulls on the line and the furler doesn't move.  I go on deck to straighten her wrapping job but in the end all I get are sore hands and extremely wet.  The only option is to manhandle the sail down, there is too much wind and twilight is approaching.  I go forward to pull the sail down while Susan steers us into the wind, with all my might, weight and fortitude I can't budge the sail.  Eventually I get it to surrender but it doesn't come down without a fight.  I try to capture it on the deck but in the water it went.  Able to now leave the helm we are lying-a-hull (drifting) with the genoa in the water.  With both of us now using all our strength we land the sail and tie it down on deck.  It was hairy there for a while.  We got nailed by one breaking wave on the the beam (not good) and it sounded like we were hit by a Mack truck. Besides the noise and motion, all was fine.

We forgot to turn our dorades (air vents on the top of the cabin deck)aft while we were taking a lot of blue water over the bow and into the dorardes.  The water eventually was too much and began to to soak the interior of the boat.  Neither of us wanted to go on deck to turn them around. Susan finally had enough of wiping up the water and braved the elements to turn them. 

We lost but retrieved our lifesaving horseshoe and strobe light at least twice, lost overboard a marlin spike and yet another screwdriver. The books on the port side went flying and most ended up being thrown in the rear berth.  Both of us are sleep deprived and the overcast skies didn't help our moral, but we were grateful that there was no rain - yet. 

We were wet and cold from the sea's breaking over the bow, traveling down the length of the boat to hit us in the face while sitting at the helm tending to our backup autopilot. Our foul weather gear we found is no longer waterproof so we were cold and wet.  Nothing like getting out of a warm bed at 2AM to put on wet gear to sit in the wind and breaking sea's for a few hours. After 4 changes of clothes the first day I decided I didn't have enough dry clothes for the entire journey and had to put on cold, wet long underwear - I think I actually whimpered as I was doing so.

By mid trip the rear head (toilet) was clogged so we had to use the one in the bow which is an acrobatics act in these conditions. Two days before arrival we ran into a line of squalls that lasted about 24 hours. Squalls are bad enough during daylight but really suck at night when you can't see to dodge them.  Radar is great - but it doesn't eliminate them. 

Although the motion was sometimes violent I tried to cook at least one hot meal a day.  We ended up heaving too once more about 65 miles from Opua. This time due to the fact that we were beating into 5-10'seas and 20 knot headwinds. Our speed had dropped to less than 3K... less than 2 knots...the good news is that we showered, slept and felt somewhat human again. 

After about 6 hours (1:30am) the wind eased and we were able to make headway, so off we go.  We were concerned about our fuel consumption since we had been motoring quite a bit - we thought we had enough fuel but it was looming in our brains we could run out.  

We arrived 12:01 October 27th had a couple rum and cokes, thanks to Jack on the boat "Fantasy". Then retired for the evening. 

It was a beautiful starry night sailing into the familiar Opua harbour.  Not until the next day did we realize that the red/green light cover was missing from our running lights.  We must have confused a couple of boats while entering at night with a white light on the bow and stern - oops.

Enjoying Life Onboard (Most of the time).

Susan and Laura

SV Mystic Traveler