L'ille des Pins (Isle of Pines)

One of the places we wanted to cruise when we got to New Caledonia was the Isle of Pines.   It has purportedly white sand beaches and a beautiful bay for anchoring.   We did not come all this far to miss it!

Now that all of our parts have been delivered and the majority of the contracted boat work completed, we were antsy to leave the boat.  Since the boat is not quite ready to leave the marina, we decided to take a different mode of transportation out to the Isle of Pines, and went on the high speed motor cat ferry.

Most of our friends sail to L'ille de Pins over a two day period with an overnight anchorage along the way.  We made it there in two hours on the ferry.  We left at seven a.m. and arrived around 9:30 a.m., rented a car for the day, and returned to Noumea by 8:00 p.m. in the evening.  This is the fringe season, so we were able to get a good deal.  Ordinarily tourist class is about $120/per person round trip. We secured a special promotion of $90.00 round trip in VIP.  The savings went toward a rental car of $45.00 for the day including gas.

The most remarkable features of Isle of Pines are of course the pine trees, a great majority of them having shapes dissimilar to what we are used to in the states,

aquamarine water,

white sand beaches,

large rocks undercut by the sea,

and beautiful limestone caverns.

We also saw some interesting statuary,

Russ's 65th Birthday Portrait - You're as young as you feel!
churches, and the vestiges of a French prison built in 1881 to house political prisoners from the French Prussian war.  

We enjoyed a lovely meal at the Meridian Hotel looking out over the bay.

All in all it was a great day, and even though it was a quick trip, we enjoyed every second.

All is Well with the 2 Sail R's on the Sailing Vessel Worrall Wind.

Exploring Noumea, New Caledonia

In between boat projects, estimates, ordering parts and waiting for deliveries, we have been enjoying the beautiful spring weather, catching up with friends and exploring Noumea.  We can only describe this island as a paradise of beauty, convenience, and good services.  It is quite a change from the developing countries we have been in the last six months.  Noumea is like the French Riviera.

When we limped into Noumea two weeks ago, friends on Tahina, Karen and Frank were already here and awaiting new batteries for their cat.  Trim with Ken and Lori, pulled in the Friday after arrival, and Serenity, Baja Ha Ha compatriots - Sherry and Gordon, came in a day or two later, along with Lila and Klaus on Comedie whom we had met in Luganville.  Friends that we met in Port Villa, Kay and Steffan on SV Fruity Fruits, are also here as semi-permanent residents this season.

With friends, we have shopped, coffeed, eaten French pasteries, walked, shopped, coffeed, eaten French pasteries......Yes, life is good!

Karen SV Tahina, Lori SV Trim, Sherry SV Serenity

On Friday of last week, we were notified that our hydrovane had arrived in Noumea.  We sent in the appropriate paperwork and were hoping to have it sometime today (Monday), but it hasn't arrived yet.  Hopefully we will get our new vane this week. The welding and davit repair is almost finished. The back of the boat will need some cosmetic work in Australia, but is ready for the vane and davits to be reinstalled.   So things are coming along, not quite as fast as we hoped, but we're still hoping to leave here for Australia within the next two weeks.

Since we have been here, we have attended a World War II/911 Commemoration of Americans,

hiked the mountain to Fort Terek,

found a geocache, logged in our travel bugs, visited the City Center, Flea Market,

Commercial Fair, New Caledonia Museum,

zoologic and botanical gardens, 

cultural center, 

Men's Dream in Every Culture

Palm Beach,  

and Aquarium. 

Most of our friends have left for cruising grounds around Noumea, and we are feeling a bit lonely here with the exception of Kay and Steffan.  We'll keep you posted about our plans to leave for Australia.  In the meantime, we are enjoying ourselves.  Looks like we may be celebrating Russ's birthday here next week.  Cheers!

All is Well with the 2 Sail R's on the Sailing Vessel Worrall Wind

When Living the Dream Becomes a Nightmare

The 2 Sail R's are safely in Noumea, New Caledonia.  The trip here was the mechanical trip from hell.  One thing after another transpired during our passage.  The Worrall Wind Blogs spanning the time period of August 29 to September 5 are Indexed and chronologically linked in this blog regarding the passage along with some photographs.  There aren't many photos as we were pretty busy fixing things.

Day 0 and 1 a.m. - Monday, August 29 -  1)  Unable to checkout of Vanuatu due to a local holiday, tightening our weather window.

Day 1 p.m. - Tuesday, August 30 - Checked out and on our way, motor pounding into the wind and waves.  2) Hydrovane pops off the rudder post at dusk in strong winds and waves.  We save Hydie from falling into the sea.  We detour to Malakula Island for repair.

Hydrovane after the first rescue.

Day 2 - Wednesday, August 31- We make repair by pounding post back on strut, tightening all of the bolts, resecuring the rudder.  3) Our main sail upon inspection has sustained a rip that needs repair.  Glad we found it now.  Repairing sailing takes another couple of hours, and we are on our way again.  We have a good wind and are sailing.  Hydie is working wonderfully.

Day 3 - Thursday, September 1- Good sailing, extreme heeling.  Lots of stress on the rigging.

Great Sail!  Extreme Heel.  We pay for it later!

Harnessed into the Galley

Day 4 - Squall!  4)  Engine won't start.  Water in the engine.  Russ de-waters engine.  5) It happens again!

Russ checking out the oil before adding to the de-watered engine.

Day 5 -  6)  Head sail furler gets stuck as we need to motor into the wind.   We can't roll it in. We fore reach while working on this problem in 20 knot winds and 2 meter seas.  7) Each delay tightens our weather window.  We are on the ragged edge now of making it in to New Caledonia before a weather change and large seas push up from the south.

Day 6 - 8)  The port dinghy davit has collapsed.  9) The dinghy and solar panels are dangling in the sea.  10) Hydie commits suicide and is buried in the sea.  11) Our gecko dies.

Hydie's gone, buried at sea.

Davit, Dinghy, Solar Panels hoisted up after a midnight rescue.

Day 7 - 12) We seek refuge at anchor.  Our anchor windlass won't work.

Noumea.  A Welcome Sight!

Day 8 - On our 2 year anniversary we pull into Port Moselle in Noumea.  As we pull into a very narrow guest slip, our 13 ) bow thruster fails and we have to make two passes to get in with 4 dock hands assisting.

We are now in the process of catching up on sleep, calling our insurance agency, hydrovane company, getting bids, and eating a lot of French pastries.  Noumea is a beautiful little city and we are going to really enjoy having our feet on the ground here for awhile.

All is Well With the Two Sail R's on the Sailing Vessel Worrall Wind

Worrall Wind Update - Living the Dream becomes a Nghtmare on this Voyage

DAY AND TIME: Sunday, September 4, 2011, 1800 UTC/1700 Local

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!

Worrall Wind Update - Another Oh Crap Day - DAY 4

Friday,September 2, 2011

Time UTC 0030, Local 1130
Latitude: 19 46.42 S
Longitude:166 44.661 E

Day 3 - We had a good sail on Thursday, although an extreme heel to starboard. We tied a line on the port wall in the pilothouse to back down to starboard side. Wind 20-25, seas to 7/8 feet on the nose. We have up 2/3 jib, a double reef main eased off and the traveler all the way down. We are trying to stay high of our course line so we can ease off if we have to.

Day 4 - Russ woke me this a.m. at 6:00 a.m. There was a squall approaching, and we needed to reduce sail. Nothing galvanizes me faster than a squall coming. I got up quickly, put on my life vest. Russ turned turned the key for engine backup should we need it. Cough, nothing. Cough, nothing. Oh Sh@! Here we go again! Russ has been so meticuluous keeping the engine dry with plenty of fuel because we will need it going through the reef pass into New Caledonia. Can we just sail? No, it's got to be fixed. OK. So glad we've got the windvane steering sytsem up and running. That's good, but boy would it be nice to be sitting at home in a comfy chair drinking a latte!

0700 Ok, so first outside. We reduced sail and rode out the little squall with winds never exceeding 25 knots, getting our morning shower of saltwater splashed over from the bow and a little freshwater from the rain. Next it was time to figure out the engine problem.

0730 First some coffee, breakfast, and planning. The wind shifted more to the south, the squall , current, and waves took us off our course about 13 miles during the night.

Our trajectory had been to go between the Loyalty Islands on the east side of New Caledonia, taking advantage of wind shadow from the southerly island for awjile. We were not going to make that on the current tack, so we needed to come about, but before we did we did the things we needed to do on a port tack (like pump the water and oil out of the engine, and stowed stuff (our bikes, engine boards, in the back stateroom, for a starboard tack.

0800 Russ is in the engine room assessing the problem. He starts whistling, a bad sign. Looks like the syphone for the engine didn't fair well on our extreme heel. We've got water in the engine again. I immediately took a seasickness pill, just in case, as I could feel my stomach tightening and my mouth going dry, my internal reaction to stress.

0815 We make contact with Namba Net and Brian on Skylight who will touch base with us at noon.

0930 Water is pumped out, stuff is stowed. We gear up, go out, make our tack, and are back inside within 10 minutes.

1145 Russ has engine apart, turned engine over by hand, then with key, WDD in the cylinders.

1200 Make contact with Brian and Claudia on Skylight who are currently in New Caledonia and waiting for us to arrive either today or tomorrow. Looks now more like Sunday, not sure. Time for lunch. Russ says he is half way. A little prior practice is making this process a little faster. We will soon cross over our course line and will continue in our current direction for a while for a better wind angle through the pass between the islands which is about 45 miles south of our current position. We will give them a pos

1:00 Russ is in the process of reassembling the engine. Winds and seas have been lighter this morning, but are starting to crank up. The heel to port isn't as severe as the one to starboard was. We may need to tack back a while when Russ starts the first oil flush as this is apparently better to do while on the port tack.

Want to get this posted so you know we are in the process of solving a problem. Will update if and when we get the motor started. If it doesn't start we will be busy tacking, however, I have lots of confidence in my captain and engineer. Follow us on SPOT.

All is well (pretty good with the 2 Sail R's on SV Worrall Wind

Worrall Wind Update - Repair Successful, Back on Course

August 31, 2011 - Day 2 to New Caledonia

Time: 0645 UTC, 5:45 p.m. New Caledonia Time
Latitude: S 16 43.747
Longitude: E 167 20.091
Course over ground 193 at 4.7 knots
Wind Speed: 20 knots from 163 degrees South East
Waves: 1-2 meter swells from South east 8 seconds apart

We pulled into Southwest Bay at 6:30 this morning, anchored, had breakfast, made necessary repair to windvane's rudder post by 10:00 a.m., worked on some other damage control including the beginning of a tear on the mainsail, ate lunch, showered, and left by 1:00 p.m.

We are going slower as we are sailing instead of motoring which means we will probably not make it to New Caledonia until late Saturday, early Sunday. Our windvane rudder post just can't take the vibration from our engine throttled up. Hope the new weather files don't change much. We like the eastern edge on the wind as we are headed due south on an uncomfortable port tack (boat works better on starboard tack), close hauled with nose to waves off our port. The wind is good, but the wave angle slows us down. The wind is supposed to be 15 but it's closer to 20 and gusting to 27 knots. We have a double reef in the main but still have a lot of heel. The sail is much better than yesterday, but there is no two ways about it. This run even at its best is one we haven't looked forward to because of wind and wave angle. Nevertheless,

All is well with the 2 Sail R's on SV Worrall Wind

Worrall Wind Update - Sh@! Happens - Plan B

August 30, 2011, Change of Plans

Time: 2155 Zulu, 9:00 p.m. Vanuatu Time
Latitude: S 166 12.173
Longitude: E 167 05.185

As you know, we left Luganville this morning (see today's earlier update)heading directly south to New Caledonia. Check our FIND SPOT Route on the blog to see our course.

As our afternoon progressed, we found ourselves in a west setting current. In order to compensate, we had to head more southeast, right into the wind and the current. The wind picked up as did the wind waves. We revved up the motor and were bucking into the sea at about a 5.5 knots. This is the closest I've come to being sea sick. The motion was nauseating. I couldn't bring myself to eat dinner, and I was in a cold sweat. Waves were crashing on the bow, so we had everything buttoned up and it was sweltering inside the pilot house, 87 degrees and 60 percent humidity.

As the sun was setting just before 6:00 p.m., Russ and I put on our safety harnesses to make any adjustments necessary. Basically, we needed to tighten down the main, grab the hand held GPS, put the throttle in neutral so we could adjust rpm from inside the pilot house for the night. Russ didn't think he was going to need me, but I harnessed up just in case. Always the Girl Scout...be prepared, even when you think you're going to barf.

He had just gone out when our "radio net" alarm went off indicating that our friend's net was going to start in 2 minutes. I made my way to the radio not sure I would be even able to speak as by this time my hand was over my mouth. I turned on the radio and could hear Pincoya and Skylight talking with one another. I was waiting for a break to call in when I thought I heard Russ shouting. I opened the slider watching for breaking waves and gully washers. "Did you call me?"

BAD NEWS

"Yes, I need help!", he shouted. Oh sh#@! Here we go. I dropped the radio, clipped on to the jackline, flipped on the deck lights as it is getting dark, and scurried out to the back deck. Russ was hanging on to Hydie's rudder post which was no longer perpendicular, but angled 45 degrees to starboard. The rudder post pin had come undone with all the vibrations of the motor. Russ was trying to steady the rudder post and wanted to go down the back swim ladder (which we never swim off of by the way)to take the pressure off the rudder. Our ladder gets a lot of traffic fixing Hydie and dangling dinghies though!

I put the motor in neutral so that we could forereach and stop the wild bronco ride W.e were still hobby horsing but not as frantically.

GOOD NEWS

Fresh air, slower motion, no time to barf, and adrenalin got rid of my nausea. Amazing, but I wouldn't recommend it!

BAD NEWS

After a couple of failed attempts at trying to lift up the rudder post and cocking it side ways, Russ was more determined than ever to climb over the back deck and down the ladder and disconnect the rudder pin. He would be on the last rung, and I remembered one other time he did this, lost his grip and swung away from the ladder. He has been suffering a bit from shoulder pain which has been trying not to exacerbate. It looked to risky. I was just as determined that he wasn't going to do that. It's scary enough for him to do that kind of rescue during the day, but by now it is pitch black. We hooked a double line through the mizzen boom and tried hoisting the rudder and post up this way.

GOOD NEWS
Yes, that worked. We secured the post at an angle and the bottom of the rudder was just out of the water. Unfortunately, once we started motoring again, the rudder would still be in jeopardy with engine vibration.

BAD NEWS
Russ was still going to have to go down the ladder and disconnect the rudder.

GOOD NEWS

But not as far. So we made our plan, got our head lamps, double harnessed Russ with a line to the winch, and he descended the ladder, looped a double line through the rudder handle on the top and over the back rail which I secured to the mizzen mast. He cut the safety line from the rudder which holds it to the rudder post in case the rudder pin breaks, and we hoisted the rudder up and over the rail. Hydie's rudder was covered with slipper green seaweed, yeck! It was a good thing it was tied on to the mast, or it would have slipped right out of our hands. Russ got back on board safely. We secured the back deck and came in side to re-evaluate our situation.

Russ wanted to stay the course and keep on going so that we could make it to NC by Friday. Nope, that wasn't my vote, and since I'm the admiral (rank does have some privileges) we are headed into Southwest Bay on Malacula Island. Yes, we probably would do a lot more motoring and wouldn't need Hydie, and it would be better for her rudder to be out of the water, and yes this does slow us down.

On the other hand, if our auto pilot or engine conks out, we wouldn't have a backup auto steering system. We may need to put Hydie's rudder on while at sea, but at least the rudder post would be secure. We downloaded some new weather files earlier and took a look at them. Surprisingly, they look better than the earlier model so our window doesn't look quite so tight. On the other hand, these damned weather files are never right! We've been waiting for an east wind and thought we had one. Nope! not yet.

For the moment, we are heading to a calm bay to reset the rudder post if possible. We are pounding straight into the waves and wind but moving slowly so that we can get some rest. I've got first watch. Russ is sleeping. We should arrive at SWB by dawn. We'll reassess the situation in the morning, and keep you posted.

All is well with the 2 Sail R's on SV Worrall Wind

Worrall Wind Update - On Our Way to Noumea, New Caledonia

August 30, 2011 - Goodbye Vanuatu - Hurry Up and Wait!

Latitude: S 15 50
Longitude: E 167 90
Wind Speed: 10 knots from SE, Motor Assist
Course over Ground: 180 S
Boat Speed: 6 knots
Waves: On the nose, 1.5 meters

We left Luganville this morning. Yesterday was the perfect day to leave, however, there was an unexpected holiday that no one seemed to know about except for customs and immigration. Of course, they were closed when we got there bright and early. So we had to scrap our plans as we could not leave without clearing.

We were back at customs at 7:30 this morning with a handful of other cruisers chomping at the bit to check out as well. If we weren't back on the ferry by 8:30 to Aore resort, we would be stuck in Luganville until early afternoon. So we were on a mission to get cleared in one hour. We had picked up the exit paperwork when we checked in a couple of weeks ago and had it all filled out. Customs was pretty fast because we were prepared. We went directly to the port captain's office only to find the door locked. After sitting for 10 minutes, thinking he would be there at 8:00 a.m., we asked one of the dock workers what time the port captain opened. He told us "When he feels like it!" Great!

We went back to immigration to see if they could call the port captain. Instead, they decided to let us pay there and stamp us out....what a concept! Why didn't they do that in the first place? Of course, we have to wait in line again. It was now 8:10, and we still had to get to immigration which was on the way back to the ferry. We got to immigration at 8:15, had more paperwork to complete and then while Russ was finishing up, I hiked back as quickly as I could to the ferry dock to beg for a few more minutes. I got there at 8:24, Russ got there three minutes later. We made it with a few minutes to spare! Yes, things were looking up.

The boat was there but the captain wasn't. Swell! He was running late and we didn't leave until 9:00 after we helped him load the boat with groceries for the resort. South of the Border time makes Island time look like a speed warp. Now we had to get across the channel, check out of Aore Resort, unleash ourselves from our mooring buoy, and try to get out of the channel before the incoming tidal current got to strong. Had we left yesterday in the afternoon as we planned, we would have been carried out with the current. We pushed the throttle forward to a 7 knot cruising speed and by the time we got to the western end of the channel we were doing 1.5 knots against the inbound current. It was a little squirelly as we went through swirl pools that pushed the bow 30 degrees to starboard, we had to crab through the current. OK! We are now 24 hours behind and are going to have to push so we can get to NC before a weather change comes in by weekend. Instead of lolling at our normal slow speed, we want to average about 6 knots an hour.

Right now the wind is light and with sails only, we were only going about 3 knots, so we've got Lehman running, the main and the mizzen up, and auto pilot on. We started off with 15 knots of east wind, Hydie hydrovane steering, and were bounding along between 6.5-7.5 knots. We're hoping the wind changes back to a more easterly 15 knots which is what we thought we would have from our weather files. We'll see. In the meantime, we are off. There is a high overcast, mild wind, mild seas for the next few days, then it starts to pick up a bit. We'd like to be on the inside of New Caledolnia's reef early Friday. That's the plan for now. The wind and waves at the moment are right on our nose and we are hobby horsing down the course. But...

All is well with the 2 Sail R's on SV Worrall Wind

Earthquakes, Tsunami, Diving, Caving, and Canyonning - Another week in Vanuatu.

River of Prehistoric Time

Latitude:      S   15 32.231

Longitude:  E  167 10.830

Sunday,  August 21, 2011

We have been in Luganville environs for the last week.  It is Sunday afternoon as we lounge around resting our tired bodies after an extraordinary adventure yesterday.  I have a pumpkin cake in the oven, and I think a tsunami may have just passed under us.

Earthquake and Tsunami

On the net this morning we heard that there were two earthquakes in the islands near Tanna.  No one knew much about them.  We had felt an earthquake five nights ago while we were on our boat.  A loud rumble came up the mooring chain and vibrated the boat for several seconds.  We thought at first it was a nearby boat motor.  When we went outside, we saw nothing and all was quiet.  The following morning, some of our shore companions asked if we had felt the earthquake?  At any rate earthquakes are quite common here in the Pacific Rim of Fire.

No one gave much thought to the earthquake report this morning.  I was sitting on the back deck with some iced tea at 2:30 this afternoon, and I heard a breaking wave noise coming from behind Worrall Wind.  We are moored in 98 feet of water along a coast line of Aore Island and tucked behind a point that protects us from the prevailing southeast waves and winds.  There is a deep water channel that runs from east to west between us and the main island of Espiritu Santo a couple of kilometers away.  For the most part other than some tidal currents, Worrall Wind is resting in calm waters, so this noise was unfamiliar.  The boat was facing the Aore shore with her stern to the channel.

I turned around and saw what appeared to be two very long waves, no more than a few feet high, resembling the wake from a large tanker (but there was no large tanker).  It looked like the waves were rolling down the channel and had curved around the protected point.  It was curious, but not scary as the waves were not very big, but they were rolling and breaking in different parts as it came in our direction.  Both rolled right under us in quick succession lifting the boat gently and continuing on to shore.  When the waves shallowed out, we could see them splashing up on shore…then all was quiet.  Gloria on Pincoya yelled in our direction…..I think that was a tsunami!  Sure glad it wasn’t a big one. (postscript:  the Aore Resort confirmed our observation - they just opened their email with a tsunami alert, a day after the fact!  Yipes)

THIS WEEK has been busy.  Luganville was the primary staging ground for Pacific Troops during World War II.  Over 100,000 GI’s were here.  Now a sleepy worn out third world little town, Luganville was once a thriving Quonset hut metropolis with over 50 cinemas to entertain the troops.  In 1942, the SS President Coolidge, came from San Francisco with 5,000 troop reinforcements and medical supplies for Guadacanal, hit some mines in the Luganville harbor entrance, blowing holes in the bottom and sinking the ship within two hours.  During that time, the captain ran the ship with the equipment and the men into shallow water on a reef so that the men could be evacuated and as many medical supplies as possible saved.  There were only 2 casualties and the rest of the men were safely evacuated.  The ship rolled off the reef and sank.  It is now considered the premier wreck dive in the world. 

Wreck Diving

We have taken two dives on the Coolidge, seeing only a fraction of the massive ship.  It is quite interesting and eerie.  Our friends Claudia and Brian dove upward of 30 times while they were here.  They are both dive masters and wreck divers used to going down quite deep.  We explored what we could without descending below 100 feet.  Even that was deeper than our open water certification, but we went with experienced dive masters and extra air tanks.  Our friends Gene and Gloria on PIncoya that did the Puddle Jump with us joined us on the second dive.  

Our first dive was on the outside of the wreck, where we examined the coral encrusted bow, equipment on the decks, barrels with gas masks, shoes, rifles, helmets, artillery canons and ammunition.   Our second dive was deeper and in cargo holds and latrines.  It was weird to see rows of toilets side by side.  The Coolidge was a first class passenger ship designed for 900 luxury passengers in suites.  After being requisitioned by the government, during the war, modifications to the interior had to be made to accommodate 5,000 men.  The rows of toilets in the cargo holds were one of the modifications.

To reach the dive, we had to walk in from the beach then descend.  It was pretty windy and rough on the surface the second day we went out with Gene and Gloria.  With breaking waves, it was pretty challenging and exhausting just getting our gear on.  Gloria had some tank issues and ran out of air.  Fortunately, the dive master had extra so she trailed behind him tethered to his air tank.  We had an interesting time dropping into the holds which were fairly wide open, but somewhat dark and claustrophobic.  We decided that wreck diving is not really our favorite activity.

Between our first Coolidge dive and our second with Gene and Gloria, Russ and I dove in an area called Million Dollar Point.  At the end of World War II, the Americans offered all of their heavy equipment, jeeps, front loaders, trucks, tractors, to the Brits and the French for a price.  The Brits and French decided not to buy the equipment, believing that the Americans would just leave it anyway and they would get it for nothing.  The Americans recognized their strategy and decided to be peevish about it by dumping millions of dollars worth of equipment off the point into the sea so that no one would get free stuff! 

Apparently, some enterprising Aussies were able to salvage some of the big front loaders (how we aren’t sure!) from the sea, and these became the key pieces of equipment that started one of the largest earth construction companies in Australia.  The remaining equipment is a huge surrealistic junk pile with 60 plus years of sea growth.  Corals and sponges have molded themselves around tires, truck chassis and warrior rubble.  It’s quite surrealistic to be 100 feet down looking up at the surface of the water and seeing mauve and blue coral encrusted truck chassis with wheels suspended vertically toward the surface.  Small and large schools of fish call this home, darting in and through the wreckage.  We all enjoyed this dive so much more than the Coolidge.  It was in the open so no one suffered from claustrophobia and the lighting was better.

Caving, Canyonning, and Swimming the River

Our friends, Brian and Claudia, on Skylight told us that one of the best things they did was go on the Millennium Cave Trip while they were on Santo.  While this is an ancient cave, it has only been open to tourists since 2000, hence the name Millennium.   They said the scenery was fabulous. 

Without hesitation or investigation we signed up to go on this “awesome” trek and trudge.  Gene and Gloria came too.  We knew we would be hiking and trekking through a cave with running water and would be swimming at some point.  I wore my hiking sandals as did Russ with swim suits under our shorts.  Russ wore his pith helmet and looked quite jaunty.   I took two trekking poles with pointed tips,  as I suspected it would be muddy, steep, and slippery.  It felt like we were off to find Dr. Livingston.

We expected a certain degree of rigor, but were really not prepared for how rigorous a trip this would be. It took nearly an hour by 4 wheel drive up to a high plateau to the interior of the island before we could actually get started.  From there we were met by our Ni-Vanuatu guide, Christian, whose communal village owns the river and the caves.  We hiked from the lower village to a higher village crossing some bamboo bridges over deep gullies.

Bamboo Bridge

The entrance fee was 2000 vatu per person $24.00, most of which goes towards school fees for village students.

Map of our Adventure

Once we arrived at the higher village, we were met by the chief who assigned to us some additional guides and dry land transporters.  The chief took a look at my two hiking poles (bi-polar, ha ha) or the wrinkles on my face and determined I was “handicapped” and would need some assistance.  At first I was a bit taken back and offended that he wanted to assign me with my own guide.  Little did I know how strenuous a trip this would be and was extremely grateful that I had a strong helping hand along the way.  With two guides, two gear transporters, and six hikers in our party, Russ and I, Gene and Gloria, and another young couple, Laurel and James, we set out on our adventure.

Intrepid Explorers - Russ, Gene, and Gloria

First off, my guide took my backpack so I didn’t have to carry it.  Okay,  so maybe a few wrinkles and hiking sticks have their advantage!  We walked a couple of kilometers through the jungle until we reached a steep drop off.  Before we descended down to the cave, our guides painted our faces with mud as traditional respect for the cave spirits.  We were told to leave our backpacks and anything we didn’t want to get wet (like my camera) with some village guardians who would dry transport our gear to the cave exit.  Again, I was without a waterproof camera.  Drat!

The Descent

After we were properly painted and shed of our gear, we started descending down a series of hand hewn branch ladders with the rungs at least two feet apart, so each step was a massive stretch with one leg and a deep knee bend with the other.  We went down, down, down, down into a canyon, sometimes hanging on ropes down rocky steeply inclined walls.  My guide Sala preceded me down the ladders and the rocky, muddy path.

Guide, Laurel and James descend down, down, down

Where the ladder rungs were broken, Sala would find an alternative footfall for me.  When the track was steep and slippery, he would prop one of his feet next to mine so I wouldn’t slip. When there was a rope hanging down a cliff, he would go down first, stretch out the rope and give me a taut handhold with him as an anchor at the bottom.  Had it been just Russ and me together in terrain like this, I would have been hanging on to Russ and we both would have had difficulty.  Russ was fending for himself and was grateful not to have to worry about me.  

The Cave

Finally we reached the bottom of the cliff where there was a rocky crevice that we squeezed into, and we were inside a mammoth cave, 20 meters wide and 50 meters high with a river running through the center.

 We waded in knee to hip deep water with a mild to moderate current.  Once we turned the bend from the entrance crevice, it was pitch black.  Everyone had torches.  My guide had a big torch big enough for the both of us so that I could use my trekking poles.  He shined the torch upward so that we could see the beautiful water carved limestone walls and hanging bats.  Sala walks this cave everyday barefoot and knows every crevice and footfall.  We were at the end of the pack.  Russ was just in front of us, then Sala, and me.

For quite a while we were altogether, but eventually the front group disappeared into the dark.  Our torches only illuminated the immediate area in front  of us.   Russ had no one to follow, so Sala asked him to drop back behind me which helped Russ better navigate the dark river bed.  Sala by this time had taken one of my trekking poles so that he could grab my hand and better assist me.  He preceded me and then would shine the torch in the inky water where I was to place my foot or my fanny and slide down a boulder into a pool.    One step would be ankle high, the next might be up to my thighs.  Russ was able to watch our path and the depth of the water so he too had a better perspective of where to place his feet and his fanny.

We proceeded this way for about half a kilometer, wading, boulder hopping, and enjoying interior waterfalls that showered down upon us.  The water was probably about 65-70 degrees F, pretty chilly.  Eventually we could see some natural light in the distance through a 50 meter crevice.  The slit of light reflected down the length of the river illuminating the rest of our group who were just ahead of us.  We all exited the cave pretty grimey and wet.

The cave waters joined another small river perpendicular to the cave, but it was spread over a shallow rocky base, so the last wade was only up to our shins, but moving fairly swiftly.  The village chief spotted me coming out of the cave and guided me across the last stretch of the river.  I think he was relieved to see me come out.

Lunch and Bail Out?

Once we were out of the cave, we spotted our gear on the bank of the river.  Another huge group must have exited the cave only a few moments before as they too were picking out their gear and looking for their lunches.  We rested on the grassy slope across from the cave and I was able to retrieve my camera for a few pictures.  Fortunately, Gloria had taken her waterproof camera, so we do have some additional photos of the trek to share.

One of the village elders came and sat down beside me to assess my stamina and willingness to continue.  There was a dry escape route alternative if I wanted to opt out.  No, I told him.  I was doing fine and yes I could swim which was the next part of this iron man adventure.  There was one lady who was celebrating her 45^th birthday.  She was pretty hefty.  I think they advised her not to continue as we never saw her or her group again.  Given some of the very tight boulder bridges we had to squish down, through, and under on the next part of the trail, I think she simply would not have fit.  Once again, I had to abandon my camera and our gear would be transported back to the base where it would stay dry.

Canyonning - I thought it said canoeing trip!

After our lunch, I was looking around for the canoes! Ha!  We were each given these little kiddy pink, orange, and yellow blow up rings that we were to wear around our necks while canyonning and then as an aide while swimming down great lengths of river. They were definitely not US Coast Guard approved personal floatation devices, but they did relieve a little anxiety in that we would have something to hang on to as we died of hypothermia.   For the next 30 minutes, where we walk in the water when we could, but more likely than not we couldn’t as the drops through the canyon were big and the water would disappear into big holes, pools, and over cascading waterfalls.

We canyonned (climbing up, down, over, around and through) huge one and two story high, slippery moss covered boulders and deep crevices.  The village tribe had carved out footholds and installed chains and knotted ropes from which to hang and belay backwards.  Again Sala was indispensable as he lead the way, showing me the notched handholds, footholds, and carrying my little floaty for me.  There was one part of the trek where we dropped down into a boxed crevice.  It looked like there was no way out until you were at the bottom and discovered a rock you had to slither under in a doubled over position so that you could get your legs in front of you to stretch over a bottomless hole that you could hear the river rushing under.  We referred to this tight bend afterward as the pretzel.  I jokingly asked my guide if we had completed the “easy” part of the trek.  I couldn’t imagine it getting any rougher.  He smiled and said, “yeah, yeah.”  Oh great!  I could only hope that his “yeah, yeah” was the typical response of islanders who always wanted to agree with their guests and not really mean that there was harder stuff to come.

The Big Swim

After 30 minutes of dropping down the river canyon, we reached a more level part of the river. Finally, we would get to float.  My legs have not ever had a work out like the one we had just gone through.  The air temperature was pleasant and we had worked up a sweat canyonning to the river basin.

The walls of the canyon were vertical and now hundreds of meters high, and overgrown with moss and jungle foliage creating the atmosphere of a soaring arched cathedral with stained glass windows of green and blue filtering the sunlight to the canyon floor.   Still pools of deep green flowed quietly through this prehistoric cathedral.  The only sounds were the occasional birdcalls resonating against the canyon walls. 

Float through Time Forgotten

The limestone carved by millions of years of water flow and dusted with a fine moss was an amazingly beautiful sight.  Waterfalls trickled and cascaded down the sides and free fell from the overhangs showering us with crystal cold water.  This is a place where time stands still, and we wouldn’t have been surprised to see a dinosaur drinking where the river widened out over shallow rocks.   This is truly one of the most inspirational and beautiful places on the planet.

Our float experience was 45 minutes long of float, swim, get out and trek a few hundred feet, then float some more.  By the last float, our teeth were beginning to chatter.  Getting out of the water felt good, but now our muscles were cooled down and our legs felt tired and heavy.  The hardest part was yet to come. 

The Ascent

It was now time to deflate our floaties and ascend out of this canyon.  Those 100 meter walls aren’t so beautiful when you are going straight up them.  The tribe had picked an ascent route up through a waterfall where they were able to notch out handholds, footholds, ropes, chains, and bamboo ladders in some solid bedrock.  Trying to hang on to these holds with cascading water numbing our hands and feet added to the challenge.  By now, my legs were really, really tired as were my arms.  When going up these inclines either by notch or ladder the steps are deep.  When your quads start giving out, you have to pull with your arms.  When your arms start to give out, your stuck.  I had visions of dying on these ladders withering like a hanging vine.

The Last Ladder!

Fortunately, Sala was like a monkey.  He would scamper up a few steps through the bed rock barefoot, grab my hand and give me an assist up some of the steepest parts when I simply thought I couldn’t go any further.  I could hear everyone ahead of me groaning and grunting as they pulled their way up the cliff…. only a couple more ladders. … only one more ladder.  Huff, puff, pull, push, groan, moan,  and we had made it!  If only we had the strength to do a happy dance.

There were successive victorious but feeble whoops when each person reached the top.  We trudged another kilometer or two back to the village along the high plateau through the jungle.  Villagers who saw us coming nodded and smiled at us acknowledging our accomplishment.  If there had been a tattoo artist at the top, I would have gotten another right of passage tattoo on the spot.  Fortunately, Mom, there wasn’t a tattoo artist there.  I think I would have liked a volcano and a waterfall on the back of my right shoulder or a big heart that said “I love Sala!”

When we reached the base camp at the top village, there were jugs of hot coffee, tea, and sweet and juicy pumpelmus waiting for us.  We changed into dry clothes had some refreshments and still had a 30 minute hike to the bottom village where our driver picked us up and took us back down to Luganville. 

This was an extraordinary adventure.  Had we known the difficulty beforehand, we may have opted out.  Not knowing however, we went with it, and don’t have a single regret.  It may be a couple of days before we can walk, sit, or go up stairs again without our muscles and joints screaming out in agony, but the incredible beauty, viewed only by a handful of people on the planet was well worth the effort. 

Monday, August 22, 2011 – Waiting for a Weather Window

We are now recuperating and sitting out some stormy weather.  Last night a rainstorm filled our water tanks while we played cards with 2 G’s on Worrall Wind.  We taught them how to play Fiji Rummy.  Gloria is quite the card shark and blitzed us. 

We had hoped to leave for New Caledonia sometime this week, but it’s looking doubtful wave wise, so we may be here another week even though the skies are lighting up.  Last night we had gusts of 40 knots through the channel and the boat rocked more than normal.

We have learned that whatever our weather forecast predicts, we add 40% more to the average.  Right now the average is for two to three meter seas in terms of wave height and 25 knots of wind speed with a trough (unsettled weather) running right through the middle of the Coral Sea between Vanuatu and New Caledonia.  We interpret this as three to five meter seas with 35 knots of wind…pretty ugly and possibly chaotic.   The wind direction looks good, but that’s the only positive attribute.  So for now, we are being patient and waiting.  We may go on a few more dives and land expeditions while we wait for a tolerable passage window.

We will be parting company with Gene and Gloria today as they rejoin their rally group.  The rest of their group tried to leave this morning for one of the eastern islands with 35 knots of winds on the nose and big seas.  They all turned around because of the conditions.  That’s one of the problems with being on a rally.  The leader has generally made arrangements for the group at one place or another and is often driven more by schedule than weather conditions. 

This will most likely be the last time we see Gene and Gloria for a while, unless we are still in New Caledonia when they arrive around September 24.  Slowly but surely our Puddle Jump 2010 group is dissolving.  We’ll have to schedule a reunion in 2020 for all of us in Puerto Vallarta Mexico, when we all have RV’s, live aboard sailboats, or condos, and the biggest adventure of the day is opening and closing the little umbrellas that come in our drinks.

All is Well with the 2 Sail R’s on Worrall Wind