Sailing on Stap Isi

August 16-18 – Beginning the Last Passage

When we originally set out from the US last December our goal was to reach Madang by the end of July 2006. After waiting a month for our Panama Canal transit and a couple other shorter but substantial delays along the way we had to move that goal to the end of August and then to mid-September. By the time we left Tuvalu both of us were ready just to get to Madang and put the ribbons on the voyaging for awhile. So rather than make the last 2100 miles in three jumps with stops along the way in the Solomon Islands, we decided to just set off and make one long passage. If all went well we would be in Madang in about three weeks but if all did not go well the intermediate stops would still be possible should we need rest or repairs along the way.

On Monday the 14th we went in to complete the check-out procedures. Our plans were to check out and then leave bright and early on the 15th. The check-out was straight forward and painless and by noon we were ready to return to Stap Isi. Sunday afternoon a large freighter had arrived and began off loading containers on the main wharf. On the way back to Stap Isi we stopped at the grocery store and discovered that this freighter was apparently the long-awaited supply ship. Where the store had been meagerly stocked for our entire stay, now the freezers were bulging and the coolers contained a large stock of fresh produce. What a blessing. We had just enough Australian currency left to buy fresh fruit for the passage to Madang.

Tuesday was a gorgeous day – with the exception that it was windless. Rather than leave just to bob around outside the atoll, we decided to spend another day in Tuvalu and try to depart on Wednesday. Kyle downloaded some weather information that indicated that the winds would pick up to the 8-10 knot range by Wednesday. So we rested and read and enjoyed a final day at anchor.

Wednesday morning the wind, as predicted, had built back up a little so at 8AM we raised the anchor and began motoring out of the atoll. The pass by which we had entered the lagoon looked a bit more tricky going out so we aimed at another pass on the northwest corner of the atoll. It took a couple of hours to get to the pass, which was deep and wide and very easy to negotiate. Clearing the atoll we soon were on course to the Solomons. The sails were raised, the motor was shut down, and we sailed along comfortably in small seas and light winds. It was a perfect start to what should be a 18-20 day passage.

By Thursday the 17th the wonderful weather began to deteriorate. Small storms were all around us and the wind began to lay down. As the wind laid down our speed dropped throughout the day from 4 to 3 to about 2.5 knots until finally about midnight the wind disappeared altogether and we dropped the sails and drifted. Up to now these calms had usually lasted only a few hours but 12 hours after dropping the sails we were still drifting quietly. Friday afternoon the wind finally came up again but only for a couple of hours. In our first two days we had only made about 140 miles and the prospect for much more on the third day looked bleak.

August 19-27 – 1100 Mile Dash

 Saturday morning found us still drifting, just 170 miles from where we had started. Even though we did not have enough fuel to make a substantial dent in the 1850 miles left, we needed to do something to lift our spirits so at 8 AM we started the engine and began motoring. That was all it took. By 11 AM the wind had started to fill in and by noon we were able to resume sailing. Mid-afternoon found us making 5.5 knots in 12 knots of wind. What a wonderful feeling.

Our course through the Solomons to Madang was going to take us right through the heart of the South Pacific Convergence Zone (or SPCZ), an area of disturbed weather running southeast from Solomons. Low pressure systems forming over Tonga and Fiji during the southern hemisphere’s winter would produce troughs and lines of convergence in the SPCZ along which thunderstorms and squalls would develop. We would get to know the SPCZ very well in the coming days.

The next several days were some of the best, and hardest, sailing that we encountered on the entire trip. There were beautiful starry nights when we slept well and enjoyed our hours on watch counting shooting stars. And there were nights of rough seas and squalls when sleep was elusive and the sight of a star was rare. The winds were never below 15 knots and usually were blowing 20 or more. For an entire day we experienced 25-30 knots and were able to make well over six knots under a storm jib and triple reefed main. The winds, even though they were a bit variable in strength, hardly changed a bit in direction. Once the sails were trimmed we were often able to leave them untouched for a day or two.

During this time the higher winds produced fairly high seas in the 10-12 foot range. This made cooking, as well as every other activity, difficult. For the most part we subsisted on MREs and snack foods. The high seas were bringing a lot of water into the cockpit so running the generator would have been impossible. But fortunately the wind was strong enough that the wind generator was able to meet our power needs for most of the eight days. This was the only time we really felt that the wind generator had been worth the cost.

On the 24th we came through the Santa Cruz islands, the most southeastern of the Solomon Island chain. We sailed within 10 miles of the port at Ndendi, the first of our potential stopping points. A rest would have been nice but we were making such good progress that we decided to stick to our plan and just keep going. Two days later we passed the half-way point as we sailed along the south coast of San Christobal. From here to Madang we would never be more than a couple hundred miles from land. Passing San Christobal we were able to alter course for Madang, a mere 1000 miles away. Now the wind was almost directly behind us. It was strong enough that we decided to drop the main altogether and sail with just the genoa. Even under the single sail, Stap Isi was moving nicely at over 6 knots.

Over the next few days we discovered that our proximity to land was presenting a new problem. Rain storms in the tropics generate localized flooding that washes a lot of debris, including entire trees, into the ocean. As we sailed along the Solomon chain, we began to see debris, limbs, logs, and occasionally entire very large trees floating in the water. While the big stuff was visible and avoidable in the day time, at night there would be no way to see it. And needless to say, smacking a 5 ton tree at six knots would be enough to take the shine right off our day. At night we just had to say a prayer and hope that we did not hit anything large enough to damage the boat.

By the end of the day on the 27th we had completed an amazing 8 day run; our best of the entire voyage. During that time we had averaged between 135-145 miles a day for a total distance traveled of 1100 miles. There had been a lot of storms and by the 27th it had been over a week since we had last seen a sunrise. As nice as the fast passage had been, we were ready for things to settle down a bit. We needed a break.

August 28-September 3 – Turning the Corner for Madang

And a break we got. During the night of the 27th, the skies began to clear and the wind started to lay down a little. On Monday the 28th we saw a sunrise. Kathy was sleeping but this was too good to miss. I woke her up so that she come on deck to witness our first sunrise in a long time.

With the seas calming into the 3-4 foot range and with a bright beautiful sunny day, it was time to put out the fishing gear again. At 8:30 AM I started trailing a lure and an hour later was rewarded by the sound of the reel singing as something began taking out line. Kathy got the gaff and cleared the cockpit as I reeled in what turned out to be a nice 3 foot dorado. That would be our lunch and dinner for the next two days.

The high point on the 29th was crossing 155 E longitude and formally entering PNG waters. Home was getting closer and closer each day. By the end of the day we were less than 600 miles out from Madang. During the day we also saw our first ship in days and days. For literally months we had been out of the shipping lanes but now were entering a very busy shipping area. Ships traveling between SE Asia and Australia often take the route along the Solomons and PNG. We would have to start watching carefully.

Each day we were able to make between 100 and 120 miles and each day we were getting more excited about seeing the end of the voyage. Both of us had imagined countless times what it would be like to sail into Madang harbor. And in just a few days our dreams would become reality. The closer we got to Madang, the more elusive sleep became. We were just too excited and did not want to miss anything. I doubt if either of us got more than 8 hours of sleep total the last three days.

On September 2nd we entered Vitiaz Strait between New Ireland and the mainland of PNG. This was probably the busiest shipping lane that we encountered in our entire trip. For most of the night we were never out of sight of at least one ship and a couple of times there were three or more visible at the same time. The only scary time occurred when a ship appeared to make a course change that quickly took it almost on top of us. Kyle was at the helm. He started the engine and made a 90 degree turn to get out of the way. As the ship passed aft of Stap Isi, way too close for comfort, a spotlight came on on their bridge. Apparently they were only then aware of our presence.

The morning of the 3rd we were able to see the PNG mainland for the first time. We were filled with emotion to think that just one more day would see us at the end of our voyage. With a good wind and a strong following current we were making over 7 knots towards Madang. It was obvious that if those conditions held we would be off the harbor entrance in the wee hours of Monday morning.

September 4 – Landfall, Safely Anchored in Madang Harbor

Kathy had the 6-10 PM watch. When Kyle came on deck to relieve her, she showed him the lights of Madang in the distance. By the time his watch ended at 2 AM, Stap Isi was only about 5 miles out. Even though we know Madang Harbor well, it seemed safer to heave to and wait for daylight before continuing. So we took down the sails, drifted, and tried to sleep and waited for dawn.

At about 5:30 AM it was light enough to see so we started the motor and headed in. Mark Shreve, a friend who was in Madang at the time, had agreed to be at the harbor entrance at 6:30 to get some photos of our arrival. The dawn revealed the lighthouse at the harbor entrance and all the familiar landmarks. Jan Messersmith came out in his boat to welcome us as Mark took digital photos and video. It was an absolutely perfect sunny morning with calm seas and by 7:30 we had entered the harbor and dropped the anchor. Stap Isi had arrived safely, nine months and 11,000 miles after we had set out from Mobile.

There was one thing left to do – check in to PNG. Jan waited along side of us in his boat while his wife Eunice arranged for an agent to bring all the appropriate officials to the dock. Then Jan shuttled them over. We were a bit concerned about the clearance procedures and how much they would assess us for importing the boat to PNG. In addition we had a lot of foodstuffs left that could be confiscated. Finally importing the cat could be a problem.

When the officials arrived we began chatting and found out that one of them was from Marangis and another was from Kayan – two of the lower Ramu language groups where we are working. We filled out the paperwork, got our passports stamped, and the officials trooped off the boat – without checking our food or making an issue of the cat. Even more amazing, nothing had been said about import duty on the boat! Having friends in high places sometimes does help.

A few days after arriving in Madang some friends asked us if we would do it again. Both of us responded with an enthusiastic “yes.” It was an amazing trip and our only regret is that we were not able to spend more time visiting the wonderful places along the way. We met some fantastic people and saw, time and again, God’s hand at work in His protection and the way he worked out the details of the trip. It was the opportunity of a lifetime and as happy as we are to be home again in PNG, part of us are sorry that it ever had to end.

July 28, 29 – 10 knots and scattered showers – Not

We have mentioned before how difficult it can be to obtain reliable weather information in the low latitudes. We were encouraged, though, to find a US national weather service office in Pago Pago generating all sorts of marine forecasts for the area. Certainly the NWS information, based right in the area, would be fairly reliable. Each morning we listened to the NWS weather broadcast on the VHF marine radio and when on Thursday the forecast for the next few days was for 10 knots of wind and widely scattered tropical showers we decided it was time to set off. Ten knots was enough wind to move Stap Isi along nicely and widely scattered showers was nothing to worry about.

On Thursday we visited customs, the port captain, and immigration and got checked out of American Samoa. The rest of the day was spent topping off our water and fuel tanks and preparing to leave. We figured we would check the forecast first thing Friday morning and if it was unchanged we would leave at first light. To celebrate our impending departure we ordered a pizza from the area pizzeria. It was excellent, but of course not quite as good as Kathy’s home made.

Friday morning before dawn we turned on the VHF radio to check the forecast. They were still calling for 10 knots and widely scattered showers so we started the motor, backed out of the slip, and started out of the harbor. We were soon nearing the mouth of the harbor and beginning to encounter the gentle ocean swell and a few minutes later the sails went up.

Soon, however, it became apparent that the forecast was, shall we say, a bit optimistic. The wind soon dropped to zero and the “widely scattered” showers morphed into one giant mass.

Rain began pelting the boat, the clouds began to get darker and darker, and lightning was soon dancing across the sky. There are not many things that scare us on the ocean but lightning is one. Having been taught from childhood to stay away from tall objects and take cover in a thunderstorm, being on a boat in the middle of the ocean under a 40 ft metal mast is more than a little unnerving. Theoretically sailboats are seldom hit by lightning. Theoretically. We continued to motor along and within an hour or so were far enough away to breathe a bit easier again. The rain continued, though, and we took turns at the helm in order to share equally in the misery.

By late afternoon of that first day the wind had come up a bit and we were able to put the sails back up. The lousy weather continued though. Thunderstorms lit up the sky in the distance and that kept us on edge throughout the night.

The next day was more of the same, with the exception that we could see a line to the north where the overcast and rain stopped and crystal clear cloudless blue sky began. It was tantalizingly close, probably only 30 miles or so away, and we decided to alter course to the north in order to get out from under the yech. We spent the rest of the day chasing the blue.

Hour after hour we sailed north but for some reason the line of blue refused to get closer. It was probably receding at the same rate as we were approaching. As the afternoon went on, though, we thought it might be finally getting a bit closer. At the same time, however, the clouds to our south were getting uglier. A long black squall line formed behind us and we hoped that we might get to the blue before the black got to us. Nope. Almost without warning the squall line roared over us. We sheeted out the main and jib to take the pressure off the sails as the wind ripped over us at 40-50 knots. This was one of only two times in the entire trip across the Pacific that we encountered winds like this. Like most squalls this one was short lived and in a few minutes (that seemed like a lot longer) the wind died back down leaving only rain and a solid overcast. Our line of blue had vanished.

In the late afternoon the overcast began showing signs of breaking up. Small patches of blue began to appear overhead and the rain became drizzle and then stopped altogether. At dusk we were treated to a beautiful sunset and the knowledge that the storms appeared to be over. Sometimes we think that it is almost worth going through the inclement weather in order to experience the peace and joy that comes when it is finally over. During the night the skies cleared and we were treated to a wonderful star filled night.

At midnight the wind died. Rather than fire up the motor we simply dropped the sails and went to bed. Figured that a good night of sleep was more valuable at that point than a few miles of progress.

July 30 – August 3 – Windy rolly conditions and wonderful progress

By 6 AM on the 30th the wind had still not made an appearance and we were contemplating motoring for awhile. Generally we don’t like to motor since we only carry about 300 miles of fuel on board. That would probably allow us to motor to somewhere else that did not have wind. Shortly after six we felt a small puff of breeze. By 6:30 the puff had filled in to a constant 3-4 knots and the sails went back up. After several hours of zero wind the seas had calmed down and we were now able to sail nicely in almost flat seas. Throughout the day the wind continued to fill in at about a knot an hour so by mid afternoon we were sailing wonderfully in 10-12 knots. This was to be the best day of sailing in the entire trip.

Throughout the night and all of the next day the wind continued to increase until by 9 AM on the 31st it was blowing at 25 knots gusting to over 30 and continuing to increase.

At this point we had two reefs in the main and the working jib up. The seas were getting fairly large and Stap Isi was making 7 knots with a bit of help from a friendly current. Still we felt like with the wind continuing to increase it was time to get a bit less sail up. So we put in the third reef on the main and went below to get the storm jib. That sail had never been out of the bag so this was the first time we put it up. Kyle went forward to make the sail change and with the extra reef and smaller headsail Stap Isi settled down a bit. We were still making over 6 knots but the ride was much more comfortable. (Being cruisers and not the rail-in-the-water racing types, we tend to be more than willing to trade a bit of speed for comfort.)

By August 1 the wind had settled a bit but was still blowing 20-25 knots with 12 ft seas. We took down the storm jib and put the working jib back up. That allowed us to average 6.5 knots. The high point for the day was crossing the dateline and entering the world of E longitudes. With the high seas cooking was out of the question so we lived on snack food and MRE’s. Most of the day was spent reading and hanging on.

Our 32nd anniversary, August 3, found us just one day out from Tuvalu. The upside of having abundant wind the past few days was that we were able to make excellent progress. We were hoping to be able to enter the lagoon at Tuvalu around high tide the next day at noon.

August 4 – Arrival in Tuvalu

We continued to make excellent progress through the night and by 6:30 were only 23 miles from Tuvalu.

Our plans were to go around the southern end of the atoll and enter at a pass about half way up the western side. At 8:30 we sighted the islands for the first time and by 10:15 were able to make our turn northwest towards the pass.

On the chart the pass looked a bit complicated to negotiate with a couple of turns and coral heads and reefs all around. As we approached, however, the shallow areas stood out in beautiful turquoises, yellows, and browns while the channel showed a deep blue. We had arrived at slack high water so there was little tidal flow coming out the pass. In just a few minutes we were through and had set a course towards Funafuti, the capital of Tuvalu, on the other side of the atoll.

By mid-afternoon we were approaching the main island on the eastern side of the atoll. We found a place to anchor near the main wharf in about 30 feet of water. The bottom was sand with scattered coral heads and good holding. As soon as the anchor set we shut off the motor and breathed a sigh of relief.

We could see two other sailboats anchored about a mile south of us near the main part of town. After checking in we planned to move down there but for now we needed to be near the customs office on the main wharf.

Since it was already late we decided to wait and check in on Monday. That would give us Saturday and Sunday to catch up on sleep and get the boat squared away. Since nothing would be going on in town over the weekend there was no hurry to complete the formalities. Monday, however, turned out to be a national holiday so we got an extra day to rest up.

Monday morning first thing Kyle took the dingy over to the main wharf and found the customs office. The lady in charge phoned immigration to send a man over and we were quickly able to complete the entry procedures. Returning to the boat we raised anchor and motored south towards the main part of time. By this time one of the two sailboats had left so Stap Isi and the English yacht Le Barque were the only cruising boats in the entire country.

We found a nice place to anchor in 20 feet of water in clear sand. Then we took the dingy in to town to explore.

Tuvalu is probably the smallest country in terms of population in the world. The 9000 citizens live on 8 islands or atolls. There are few exports and the country seems dependent on outside aid. The Japanese and Taiwanese governments had contributed heavily to the island.

After French Polynesia and American Samoa, where hundreds of cruising boats call each year, we were surprised to find that few ever came to Tuvalu.
For most of our stay there were only the two boats there and by the time we left we were the only boat in the country. Yet it is a beautiful place with excellent snorkeling and friendly people – all the things that should attract other cruisers. There was no charge for clearing in or out.

We thoroughly enjoyed our brief stay in Tuvalu and hope to be able to return some day when we have more time to explore and enjoy the people there. But too soon it was time to check out, raise anchor, and begin our final passage to Madang.

July 2&3 – Leaving Raiatea in No Wind

When it comes to weather forecasts, we are spoiled in the States. Complain as we might, each evening we get 24 and 48 hour forecasts that are generally spot on. Even out to 72 hours the forecasts are fairly good. It is only out beyond 72 hours that the forecasts get flaky. In the US meteorologists have a couple hundred years of historical data on which to base their models. Then those models are constantly updated with real-time data from hundreds of reporting stations.

One of the adjustments that we have had to make learning to deal with weather forecasts in the south Pacific is that they are much less reliable – even forecasts for tomorrow, or this afternoon. That unreliability is to be expected when one considers the lack of historical data and the paucity of reporting stations in this part of the world. Still it has taken us awhile to come to grips with the fact that the weather resources available to us in this part of the world are little better than wild guesses.

Each morning we download weather faxes from New Zealand and computerized GRIB files that give wind forecasts out several days. In addition we check in on a marine HF net daily to hear a weather forecast. Sunday morning was no exception. We were looking for a good window in which to start our passage west to Pago Pago in American Samoa and it looked like we had finally found it. The forecasts were unanimous in predicting 10-15 knot winds for Sunday and Monday in our area, followed by a couple of days of lighter winds. We figured on that basis that we could make 250-275 miles or almost 1/4 of the passage before the winds started laying down. Time to go.

So Sunday morning we cast off our dock lines and said good-bye to Raiatea. Motoring slowly over the north end of the island we picked our way through the reefs and tried to follow the channel towards the pass at the western side. The channel was well marked, it was a beautiful sunny day, and in about an hour we were through the pass. The wind, as predicted, was from the east at about 12 knots as we raised the sails and shut off the motor. Since we were in the lee of the island, the first few miles of sailing was a rare treat in that we had excellent wind but almost no waves. It was fun sailing along at 5 knots on a smooth sea. That soon changed as we got farther out. Still the first few hours were wonderful.

By about 2 PM, though, it was obvious that we were loosing our wind. The wind seldom just dies suddenly though occasionally that does happen. Usually one is sailing along nicely when the wind unexpectedly drops. Then in a few minutes it reappears but not quite as strong. Ten or fifteen minutes later it drops again and takes a bit longer to reappear. And so on. Over a period of an hour or so the wind can go from 15 knots to almost zero. That is exactly what happened on Sunday afternoon. By 3 PM we were drifting quietly with the sails flogging in absolute calm. How frustrating to have spent so much time trying to find a good weather window and then to loose the wind within sight of shore.

That frustration continued throughout those first two days. The wind would fill in just a bit, we would hoist the sails, and then two or three hours later it would vanish again and we would lower the sails and drift. It would not have been so bad had the forecasts not been for such favorable conditions for this time period. By the end of the second day at sea we had made just over 100 miles instead of the 250 or so that we had hoped for.

July 4-6 – Sailing Again

Finally the morning of the 4th the wind began to fill in. At 6 AM we were able to raise the jib and an hour later the main went up. By 9 AM we were back up to 5 knots in 12 knots of east wind. It felt absolutely wonderful to be moving again. For the next two days, the days in which the wind had been forecast to lay down, we had perfect sailing conditions of 10-12 knots of SSE winds. We went from a 35 mile day on the 3rd to 120 miles on the 4th and 126 on the 5th.

During this time we dragged a lure behind Stap Isi but did not get any strikes. Several times we saw flocks of sea bird feeding on the surface so obviously there was sea life around. Nothing was interested in our offering though.

On the 6th the wind began to lay down again. Through the day our speed dropped gradually from 5 to 4.5 to 4 knots. At the same time the winds began to back around so that by 6 PM we were making just 3.8 knots in ENE winds. It looked like we would soon be drifting again.

July 7-9 – Drifting Slowly West

Shortly after midnight on the 7th we lost our wind once again. The sails came down and for most of the day we drifted in a complete calm. In a way drifting like that can be relaxing. The seas calm down nicely and the boat bobs quietly. It is a good time to nap, read, or take care of minor boat projects. Kathy is able to pull out all the stops and cook full meals.

Saturday was more of the same. Occasionally we would get a little wind for an hour or two and then it would die out. When Sunday dawned with us still drifting, we were beginning to wonder if we would ever make it to Samoa. We had made just 160 miles over the past three days – less than half of what we normally make.

The weather forecast on the net Sunday morning, though, got our attention. The weather fax charts showed a low developing directly over our position some time on Tuesday. If that happened it would mean a lot of squally rainy nasty weather. It was time to move. We decided to do something that we seldom do during a passage – run the engine. We only have about 300 miles of range with our fuel on board. On a long passage that would be enough to move us from one place with no wind to another. So we usually just drift and wait. But the idea of a low forming on top of us was an excellent motivator. We started the motor and headed west at about 4 knots.

Finally the wind began to fill in again about 3 PM. We stopped the motor and raised the sails and by 6 PM were sailing along at over 5 knots again. Life was good – except for a big ugly line of clouds to our south. They had been visible for some time and it looked like now they were getting closer. We figured that it was probably a stationary front that the weather charts had shown trailing north from a low pressure system well to the south. We kept sailing west and it was soon clear that we were going to have to punch through that front some time soon.

Kyle went below at 7 PM to get some sleep and Kathy took the early watch. At 9 PM we were getting very near the front so she picked a gap between two large storm clouds and aimed for it. She did a great job of navigating and made it through the first line of storms with no problems at all. We thought that maybe that would be the end of it. Little did we expect that it was just the beginning of three days of rain, squalls, wind, and generally miserable weather.

July 10-13 – Dodging Fronts and Squalls

The early morning hours of the 10th saw us surrounded by squalls and rain. The moon was nearly full and even though we couldn’t see it though the clouds it provided enough light for us to see the storms and prepare for their arrival. It was a tough night and neither of us got much sleep. By morning the rain had about ended though. The wind stayed up so we had a great day of sailing in 10-12 knots of wind. We hoped that we might be out of the bad weather but by sun down on the 10th it was obvious that we had another rough night ahead of us.

Kyle was sleeping below when Kathy called him to tell him that a very ugly squall was approaching. He scurried up, took one look at the line of approaching clouds, and went forward to put the third reef in the main. It looked like the clouds were a bit lighter to the north so he put the boat on a beam reach and ran parallel to the approaching storm. Kathy went below to get everything squared away below. Then the storm hit with a fury. Forty to fifty knot winds went roaring over Stap Isi. Kyle let go of the main sheet to relieve the force on the main sail and sheeted the jib out. Still we were healed over with the starboard rail in the water and the GPS showing us making over 7 knots. Fortunately the storm passed as quickly as it arrived and in just a few minutes we were under way again.

That turned out to be the worst squall of the passage. But for the next two days we continued to deal with rain and squalls. On the evening of the 11th it clouded over and rained all night. That kept us below keeping watch for other ships by occasionally poking our heads out and looking around. Fortunately there were not many ships in the area.

Finally the weather moderated and the rain and squalls ended. The forecast for the 13th was for 8-10 knots out of the east. At 6 AM we had 123 miles to go so it was obvious that we would make it to Pago Pago some time on Friday the 14th. We figured that with the forecast winds we would probably arrive some time mid morning. But again the forecasts left something to be desired.

The winds remained out of the south throughout the day and slowly built from 6-8 knots to 10-12 and on to 15-17. By midnight we had winds over 20 knots and Stap Isi was flying along at over 6 knots. At 7PM we saw the lights of Pago Pago. We were relieved to know that in a few hours this difficult passage would be over. With the higher than expected winds it was becoming obvious that we would be arriving before dawn and would have to wait a few hours before being able to enter the harbor.

July 14-21 – Landfall and a Week in Pago Pago

At 4 AM we arrived at the entrance to Pago Pago harbor and had about three hours to kill before we could make our way in. Normally a boat would heave to in this situation. Heaving to is a technique whereby a boat is made to stop and drift slowly to leeward. Usually it entails sheeting the jib to windward, centering the main sail, and tying the tiller to leeward. This puts the bow about 45 degrees off the wind and seas and allows the boat to gently drift. Unfortunately we had never been able to get Stap Isi to heave to. It is such a good sailing boat that when we tried to heave to it would just sail along as before – just a bit more slowly. Before we left Raiatea, though, another sailing couple suggested we try taking down the jib altogether and try heaving to with just the main. It looked like our early arrival at Pago Pago would give us a chance to try it.

Kyle went forward to take down the jib. Then he centered the double reefed main and put the tiller over to leeward. Stap Isi stopped dead in the water, put its bow just off the wind, and drifted slowly down wind at less than a knot. Absolutely perfect. We were thrilled to finally solve this puzzle and with Stap Isi secured we napped and waited for morning.

But first we checked in with Pago Pago harbor control. A freighter had arrived outside the harbor and had raised harbor control on the marine VHF. As soon as they were done speaking we called control to let them know we would be arriving at about 8 AM at the check-in dock. They promised to let immigration and customs know.

At 6 AM it was getting light enough to start towards the harbor so Kyle started the engine and took down the main and headed for the sea buoy marking the entrance to the harbor. Pago Pago is probably the best natural harbor in the south Pacific. It is very easy to get into. Several buoys mark reefs and as long as one does not get on the wrong side of those buoys it is hard to get into too much trouble. By 8:30 we had located the check-in dock and had tied up in an empty slip.

No sooner had we gotten the lines tied when a car load of Samoan officials arrived at the dock. They had been notified of our arrival by port control. Kathy was horrified that all these officials were coming to the boat. She usually tries to get the boat all neat and tidy before the government representatives show up. Today, though, after a rough passage, the boat was a disaster with wet clothes and gear scattered everywhere. The officials did not seem to mind though. They crowded into the cockpit, and down below, and a couple remained on the dock. They each had paperwork to be completed and questions to be asked. Everyone was very helpful and professional. In just a few minutes the paperwork was finished, passports stamped, hands shaken, welcomes offered, and the officials trooped off back to their offices.

With that we collapsed in the boat for some well deserved sleep. The first couple of days in Pago Pago were spent just trying to recover from the passage. Once that was done we would work on cleaning up, purchasing provisions, making repairs, refueling, etc. Pago Pago is one of the best places for reprovisioning between Panama and Australia so we planned to make the best of it. Small busses, costing between $0.50 and $1, ran everywhere on the island so it was easy to get around. A Sam’s Club clone and large supermarkets allowed us to stock up on items we won’t see again for a long time.

The best thing about Pago Pago though was not the shopping.  It was the people.  In our entire Pacific crossing we found no friendlier people than the American Samoans.  Several times people stopped to offer us rides when we were walking along the road.  One man, a retired US Marine, offered to drive us home from the supermarket with all our groceries even though this was almost all the way across town.  It was easy to stop and talk with the folks around town.  This was a much different experience than, say, French Polynesia.

Leaving Ahe – June 23

Friday morning at first light we raised the anchor and motored north to the pass. When we got there we found another boat waiting to come in. A couple we had met in Nuka Hiva. We went out first and then they came in.

The winds were in the 6-8 knot range and the seas were up some but conditions were fairly good for the first day. We were making 4-5 knots most of the day. In the afternoon the clouds began building and it was obvious that we were going to be in for a rainy squally night.

Throughout the night we had one squall after another blow through. None of them had serious winds – mainly rain. After each squall we would have clear skys for an hour or so and then in the east we would see the dark shape of another line of clouds. This was when we were thankful for radar. With that we could get a sense of the extent of the rain and and idea of how strong the squall might be. Finally by morning the weather had settled down

Approaching Raiatea – June 24 – 25

As forecast, the winds began to lay down on Saturday and Sunday. In addition they began to veer around out of the north as a low pressure system moved south of us. Even in the lighter winds we were able to make over four knots. That pace would put us into Raiatea first thing Monday morning.

By Sunday evening, however, the winds had dropped below five knots and our pace slowed to a crawl. If we were going to make Raiatea Monday morning it was going to be under motor. We hate to motor but sometimes you do what you have to do. Kyle pulled down the sails and started the engine and we were soon cruising along again at over four knots.

The night was wonderfully clear with no rain or squalls. Radar showed the outline of Huahine ahead and we set our course to pass by it on the north. Since the winds had by now vanished altogether we were having to hand steer the boat. Kathy took the first turn while Kyle tried to get some sleep. He woke up in a couple hours to see the lights of Huahine off the port. Then Kathy slept while Kyle steared towards Raiatea, about 25 miles further west.

Tied up in Raiatea – June 26 – July 1

The sun arose to reveal the lush green of Raiatea about 10 miles off. The islands of Raiatea and Taaha are within the same barrier reef. The pass into Raiatea was large and well marked (the French do a wonderful job with their navigational aids.) At 10 AM we made our way through the pass and turned north towards the main center of Uturoa.

One concern we had was finding a place to anchor. Most of the anchorages at Raiatea were too deep for the amount of anchor chain we had. One is supposed to put out five times the depth in anchor chain so our 270 feet of chain would allow us a maximum depth of 55 feet. There were few anchorages in Raiatea that shallow.

As we came by Uturoa we saw the fuel dock and decided to go ahead and refuel. It is always a good idea to get fuel, water, and provisions as soon as possible so that if the weather changes for the worse where you are at you are ready to head out again quickly. While we were topping up the tanks and jerry jugs we noticed a number of sailboats tied up to the dock adjacent to the fuel dock. We asked one of the owners about tying up there and he said that it was supposed to be limited to one day but that no one seemed to be enforcing it. We liked the idea of tying to a dock for a change where we could just step off the boat and walk to town. So we pulled ahead and found a place on the dock and tied up, free of the worry of finding a place to anchor.

Raiatea was the largest town we had been in in French Polynesia. It is home to two different charter sailboat companies so supplies and boat parts are readily available. Three large supermarkets made available the best selection of fresh produce we had seen since Panama. The first day we had a blast reprovisioning for the next leg of the trip. We found apples, oranges, potatoes, onions, cheese, chips, and the ubiquitous french bread.

By Thursday it was time to prepare to leave again. The weather forecast was for light but sail-able winds on Saturday so we set that as our departure day. But first we needed to deal with the officials.

When we entered French Polynesia we were supposed to have posted a bond equivalent to the cost of the airfare home to the US for each of us. This is supposed to guarantee that we actually left again. When checking out of the country we would get that bond back. The problem was that when we arrived we did not have enough money for the bond so when we checked in at Nuku Hiva we sort of ignored the whole bond thing. But now that it was time to check out, we kept wondering it this was going to cause us problems when it came time to check out.

Normally we might have just sailed off without bothering to check out at all but at our next port of call, Pago Pago in American Samoa, the authorities are adamant that arriving boats have the appropriate clearance paperwork from their last port. No paperwork – ta ta. So Kyle put on his nicest “deal-with-the-authorities” clothes and a big smile, we said a prayer, and he strolled off to the Gendarmerie (like the police station) to check out.

We have discovered that the French have a wonderfully anarchistic approach to rules and regulations. They make volumes of rules and regulations which everyone then simply ignores. Since I tend to ignore most rules myself, I am finding the French very easy to work with. The check out process was a case in point.
The Gendarme was very friendly and invited me in to his office. He sat at the computer and asked me the various questions on the departure form. When he got to the part about the bond he asked me if I had paid it. I said “no;” he said “OK,” and it was on to the next question. Just like that. A few pages out of the printer, a couple stamps in the passports, and I toddled back to the boat, departure clearance in hand.