Latitude: S 22 23.139
Longitude: E 166 53.832
First off, we have arrived safely but not soundly. We are at anchor after the voyage from hell. We are pooped, just about to duck into the closest harbor for some rest. So here's the rest of the story.
September 2, 2022, Friday Day 4 Oh Crap Day continued:
From 1:00 - 3:00 p.m. in the afternoon we worked on reassembling the engine, and dumping in new oil. We were so involved in the process we missed the Pacific Sea Farers Net Roll Call. I logged on late and it was over. Hopefully, they aren't sending out the troops for us.
We were on a starboard tack which made the whole process difficult for Russ as he was now having to balance himself from falling into the motor while working. We would be on this tack for quite sometime however in order to get the right angle through the Loyalty Islands and reefs. So while it was difficult for Russ in the engine room, it was a relief from the port tack we had been on the last couple of days.
When Russ originally assessed our water problem, he checked both the likely culprits: the anti-siphon valve on the engine thru-hole (starboard side) and the exhaust, muffler thru-hull on stern by the water line. Russ had installed a bottom drain on the muffler after our last miseries coming across the Pacific from Mexico. He had opened the drain and no water had come out the bottom. This looked like a good sign. He couldn't ascertain a specific problem with the anti-siphon valve, but since it was on the starboard tack and we had been on an extreme heel we had to make the assumption that this was where the problem lay. Going from port to starboard tack would reverse the heel and hopefully the problem as well.
1530 Ok. It's time to start the engine, but before we do Russ needs to open the thru hulls which have been closed. He goes down to check the exhaust muffler one more time, there now appears to be water dripping out of the muffler. As he his laying on his stomach across the engine to examine the muffler, his words were "There's trouble in River City!" He's always so even keeled and polite. He would have made a good astronaut. "Houston, we have a problem." Me?? Oh Sh@! pretty well sums it up.
Russ disconnects the muffler and buckets of water poor out. The good news is we found the problem. The bad news, too late. Upon examining the muffler, the bottom drain had gotten plugged giving Russ a false positive when no water had drained out. With that much water in the muffler, it meant that the new oil we just put in was now contaminated and there was undoubtedly water in the engine again, plus buckets of water in the bilge. He puts the muffler back on and decides to try the motor just to make sure. Maybe the water has yet to go into the engine and he can blow any residual out the exhaust.
1600 He turns the key. Whmf. Nothing. Yep, it's time to start over. Russ has been up since 1:30 this morning with only five hours of sleep. It's 82 degrees inside the cabin and he's looking beat. I'm right behind him. While Russ works on raising the anti-siphon hose and valve higher above the water line, I fix dinner. We need a little break. It's Chilorio, Spanish Rice, and salad. A cold beer would hit the spot, but no can do. We'd both get knocked out.
1700 Dinner and second wind. With the new info about the muffler and our current position, it was time to return to a port tack. We are between NC and the southern most Island of Vanuatu, actually closer to Vanuatu. We look at the gribs and decide that even sailing to Vanuatu might be the better choice if we can't get the engine started again, Russ assures me that he will get the engine started this time.
First, he would raise the muffler exhaust and siphon system even higher. We re-secured everything that would slide to starboard. Got on our life vests, clipped in, and out to the back deck, tacked and came back in. There is no moon tonight, it is inky black out side. The wind is blowing 20 knots, and the seas are about 1.5 meters high. All in all, good sailing conditions and good angle to our mark.
1800 We connect with friend on Skylight and give them a position report. Thank you Brian and Claudia! It's good to be connected with you.
1815 Russ begins to drain oil and disassemble the engine once again. He is exhausted but keeping up a good front so that I don't lose it.
2240 He's getting faster and faster at this process, less than 5 hours from start to finish, and we are ready to turn on the motor. We double check all the valves.
2248 It's finger crossing time! Russ turns the key. Huma huma uma. The lights dim. He switches battery power and tries again. Huma Huma huma uma. He tries again. Huma Huma Huma, Huma. I'm cheering, "Come on Baby!", Huma Huma Huma PURRRRRRRRR! YES! We're doing the happy dance.
We let the motor run for half an hour before shutting it down and immediately shut the valves. I'm turning the ignition off and Russ is standing by to turn the exhaust valve. We'll do the second oil change in the morning. Just in case we are still sucking water into the muffler, Russ leaves the bottom drain open for the night.
Running the engine has heated up the water tank. Hot showers are looking good.
2400 Day 4 is finally over but we are still up trying to get things back to a little order.
Saturday, September 3, 2011 - As if the windvane and engine weren't enough!
0030 Day 5 - It's about the time Russ would ordinarily be waking up from his sleep and time for me to be going to bed from my watch, but are watch and sleep schedules are really messed up. We decide that Russ goes to bed first as usual and will sleep until 3:00, then it will be my turn.
0630 We're both back up after having 3 hours of sleep in a 24 hour period. We are making good progress towards our waypoint to entrance of channel area between Loyalty Islands. The wind is consistently about 18 knots with 1.5 meter seas, with 100 percent overcast. It's noticeably cooler this morning as we are heading south.
After breakfast and the morning net, we are ready to start the next oil change on the motor. Russ and I clean out the bilge area under the engine. There appears to be a lot more water than we expected. The good news is that it doesn't seem to be coming from the muffler. The bad news is were not sure about where it's coming from. Not to worry though it's only a couple of buckets that we pump out. Then we have to dig out more oil from various holds. We need another 2.5 gallons.
By noon, we have the engine flushed with new oil and we are ready to turn it on as soon as it is obvious we are in the wind shadow of the island.
1330 It's time to turn on the engine. She starts and we are ready to start motoring down the channel to the reef entrance to NC. We still have 100 miles to go southwest.. The channel is 50 miles across so it is still open ocean. We will be crossing it on a diagonal, but would like to motor south as far as possible close to the easterly islands so that we can sail the 50 miles to the reef entrance with a good angle. First we need to take in the jib, tighten down the main and mizzen, relieve Hydie from steering, and switch over to auto pilot. We put our vests on over our tropical clothing and head outside. This should only take a few minutes. Russ is looking forward to relaxing afternoon. I am too.
1400 Well by this time we should be done with our little tack change, but noooooo, we've got another problem. Our jib doesn't want to pull in. It's starting to rain and we've got a line of squalls ahead of us. Instead of pulling into the wind and on course, I am now way off course keeping air in the jib so she doesn't beat herself to death and keeping the bow out of the oncoming waves so that Russ can resolve the furling problem. This means he is working right on the bobbing bow. The opening to the base of the furler is on the port side, so I need to maintain a port tack so he can get into the furler.
1430 I put the auto pilot on and come inside. We had set my wrist watch alarm as a reminder to tune in on the Sea Farer's Net and report our position. I'm cold and wet. Russ is still battling the furler and has come inside to warm up a bit himself and get a utility knife. It's too noisey to hear the radio with engine and autopilot. We temporarily sail and re-engage Hydie.
He needs to hand unwrap the furling line. He has found a frayed knot on the end closest to the tie down end. He needs to cut the bad part, about 20 feet, off the line, and re handwrap while dangling over the bow. DANDY! So much for a relaxing afternoon. Russ has been suffering from shoulder problems and this is torture. Not only does he have to work on this now it also means that for the remainder of our trip to NC we will need to go to the bow every time we need to unfurl the jib as the line will be too short to run back to the fantail deck.
1530 Two hours after we started our tack change, we have now solved another exhausting problem. On our way in, our friendly little Fijian gecko is looking very sad. He is on the bottom step going up to the deck and has lost his tail, but has a little life in him. He doesn't mind that I pick him up and bring him inside. I put him in a basket and turn my net colander upside down over the basket so he can't get out. We put a lid of water with a hard candy and some apple to see if we can attract some of the little ants we have on board into his little home. We don't think he is going to make it. Sad, he's been a chirping delight to have on board.
After getting Gecko set up, we both take hot showers to warm up. I fix hot drinks and an early dinner. We alter course and plans once again. Since the seas and winds are lighter than we expect tomorrow, and we most likely will not sail using our jib as she is, we have decided that the angle of sail won't matter. We are going to motor diagonally across the channel to a way point just in front of entrance reefs. We are already 2 days behind in our weather window and large seas and a more southerly wind are forecast for tomorrow and Monday. As I finish up this report, we have about 60 miles to our NC entrance way point, and probably another 50 miles through more protected waters to Noumea. If all goes well we hope to be in protected waters by early afternoon tomorrow, and an anchorage tomorrow afternoon or evening.
2200 Russ is sleeping. Poor guy. He's exhausted. We are bounding into the waves which isn't too bad this evening. We are taking it slower than we would like, to keep the ride a little more comfortable and to not jiggle the wind vane steering post too much. Occasionally a huge wave comes along bounces over the bow and right over the cabin top. Just before Russ went to bed, a wave popped over the cabin.
I heard a thud, thud, thud on our cabin top. It sounded like a winch handle or something had come loose. Russ went outside and looked on top. Nope, without even trying we had caught ourselves a big fish. Not sure if he flopped off or we will find him on the back deck in the morning. We are both so tired, we weren't about to go outside and check it out.
Today, marks the 2nd anniversary of our cruising life. We left on Labor Day Weekend 2009 and are now seasoned sailors and official commodores of the Seven Seas Cruising Association. We've have sailed nearly 10,000 miles in many types of seas, most rougher than we expected and rewarded with incredible experiences and countless little adventures. We are living our dream most of the time. Sometimes the dream gets a little nightmarish, and we try to keep it all in perspective.
Since our initial crossing in 2009, this has been one of the most mechanically challenging trip we have been on. Overall, the weather window we picked has been pretty good. Hopefully, by this time tomorrow, we will be sleeping peacefully in a marina or calm anchorage. In the meantime, a new crescent moon is keeping me company on my watch this evening. It's been a dark journey and the light is most welcome.
0100 Sunday, September 4, 2011
I decide that I'll let Russ sleep another hour. We are still bounding into the occasional big wave. The engine is purring away. We still have all the engine boards off that usually mute the noise, the auto pilot is making its continuous course correction whines, and the waves are thudding on the bow. I've had current, waves, wind, and traffic to contend with so I've been busy the whole evening.
0200 I wake up Russ and go to the back stateroom and head to wash up and brush my teeth. I've had only about 3 hours sleep in 36 and am looking forward to the pillow. I do one last look around. I've gotten in the habit of periodically checking out the stern windows to see how the dinghy is doing. My heart stops! Our right davit has snapped off the back of the boat, the dinghy and solar panels are hanging precariously and bouncing around after every wave. I don't know when this happened and I can't even hear anything now.
I tell Russ. He looks at me as if I am making this up. There's no whistling or calm reassurances, just stubborn resolve. SH@! SH@I, I am almost afraid to beg the question, "What more can go wrong!"
We take our time getting into our foulies (as it is now colder here and the salt water is still flying over the bow.) In inform Russ that I don't care if the solar panels and davits and dinghy all go over board, he is not going done any ladders down the stern to try and do a rescue. If he can't do it from the stern, it isn't going to get done. He's too tired to argue. We cut the motor to idle. Our main is still up so we fore reach for the next two hours. We go out to examine the damage.
Not only had the welds on the starboard davit broken, the dinghy and solar panels are bouncing in the waves and OH NO! Our Hydrovane steering system is GONE! SH@! SH@I. I knew I shouldn't have asked what more could go wrong. Either the davit collapsed and took out the windvane or the windvane post released and knocked down the davits. Since we had just tightened all the bolts and gotten the windvane back in working order just a few days ago, we find the latter cause and effect the lesser probability. We won't know until we can get a closer look.
In the meantime, putting our chagrin aside, we worked for two hours hoisting and winching up the solar panels and dinghy with our jib winches. We are double harnessed and have created this crazy spider web on the fan tail to secure what we can. We get back on course, and we have the davit, solar panels, and dinghy highto pick up our speed. Since we no longer have a hydrovane to concern ourselves with, we can crank up the engine need to be efficient without overdoing it. We have only until two o'clock tomorrow to make it through Havannah Pass into New Caledonia before the tidal current turns against us.
4:45 I am laying in the sea berth exhausted and am having difficulty going to sleep. It's just been too, too much. Even the Zen meditation music I am playing on my Ipod isn't helping.
6:30 I must have dozed but am rudely awakened as I feel cold water dumping down through dorad on to my feet. The waves are honking big and are backwashing down into the dorads. We get towels and stuff them into the dorads as extra protection, but a lot of water has come through. We eat some breakfast, have some coffee, and are too tired and cranky to even talk to one another.
1330 Finally, we make it to Havannah pass. The clouds are brewing. We see rain in front of us, but we have just made it through before the current change. And the big waves that are coming this way in the next few days. We pushed this weather window to the limit. We have contacted the Pacific Sea Farer's net to let them know we have arrived and spoken with Noumearadio control to get permission to duck into a harbor for a night's rest before going into Noumea (another 50 miles away up the west coast) to check in. Permission is granted. And the solar panels are still producing amps!
1600 We anchor in one of the first protected little bays we find. Russ informs me that the anchor windless isn't working, and he may have to winch up the anchor by hand in the morning.
1630 Russ is working on the windlass. It seems to be a switch problem. The water is still, the birds are singing. My body is still moving even though the boat isn't. I examine the damage in the back. It does look like Hydie's post torqued out again, flipped up, breaking the right davit, and then sank to the bottom of the sea. Our gecko died too. It's just been the pits all the way around. We may be in Noumea longer than we planned to get a new Hydrovane, dinghy davits fixed, etc. They have far more facilities for yacht repair than Vanuatu. It's awfully pretty here (but also expensive), so it might not be a bad place to be for awhile.
Signing off, fixing dinner, cleaning up, and going to bed.
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The 2 Sail R's on Worrall Wind are grateful to be here!
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