Update 17

Orca Update # 17

Hi!

We gladly left Lautoka behind, paperwork in hand, to sail to Musket Cove, the southernmost all-weather harbor in Fiji. Musket Cove has a resort that caters to yachties as well as tourists, providing showers, laundry, and final customs clearance service. The main attraction for sailors is, of course, the bar which is situated on a tiny sandy island sticking out into the anchorage, connected to the main resort by a floating dock. For most of the year, it's a beautiful place—idyllic. However, in October and November, there is tension in the air. Instead of happy vacationers, gladly free of the office and swilling Fiji Bitter, you see groups of nervous men and women clustered around tables covered in weatherfax printouts, laptops, and pilot charts. They talk of cut off lows, upper level short wave troughs, bent back warm fronts, NOGAPS model runs, sea surface temperatures, and the elusive “weather window”. Later, after the day's decision have been made, those who choose to go will have a cup of coffee and get to work, those who choose to stay will have a beer, or six, and stare off into space.

These are the skippers who will make the run to New Zealand, and any one of them will tell you they are anxious about this passage, perhaps above all others. They've listened to and read the dozens of heavy-weather accounts on this passage through the North Tasman Sea. Chiefly, they remember the 1994 Queen's Birthday storm, when a dozen boats on this stretch of water all set off emergency beacons within hours of each other, hammered by unforecast 70 foot seas and hurricane force winds.

We decided to go on October 22. We spent the day before checking hatches and ports. Tying down everything big enough do damage, should we get turned over. We checked gear we hope never to use—sea anchor, storm stays'l, our deepest reefs, our sea cocks. We scrubbed the bottom clean, to make the passages as quick as possible. We felt Orca was as ready as she was ever going to be, the weather looked promising, so we left.

We'd been watching the weather for months with this moment in mind. While weather forecasts more than 3 days out are unreliable, by watching the multi-week cycles of lows and high marching across the southern ocean and timing our departure, we were able to stack the odds in our favor. The strategy was to catch the leading edge of the topside of a slow-moving high pressure system, beating into the reinforced SE trades, then ride the backside of the high down to NZ as it moved past us. In reality, it blew SE for much longer than we expected. Orca is a wet boat in any circumstances—lots of water on deck. But beating into 25-30 knots of wind in 12-15 foot seas, for 8 days, turned her into a veritable submarine. We pushed her as hard as we dared, hull speed all the way through baby. She shuddered and groaned, and water found its way in through just about every port, hatch, and gasket. It was important that we go fast – we didn't want to be at sea when the stormy part of the cycle started.

We arrived in the Bay of Islands, New Zealand, yesterday after 8 days at sea. We averaged 135 miles/ day, which is fantastic for Orca. NZ is a huge port of call for cruising boats, and the various marinas all compete for blue-water business. Consequently, we were pampered upon arrival. Free dock. Free clearance procedures. Customs met us on the dock with an arrival 'gift pack' – free rum (from the local liquor store), coupons for free stuff ashore, cruising guides, and a nice woven bag to keep it all in. Orca is now in a slip for the first time since leaving North America, and she needs it! We've got a lot of boat projects to catch up on, so we better get to work!