Sailing on Stap Isi

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.