1000 miles to windward or ‘why does the weather hate us?’

Hi all, sorry for the delay in blogging – the mighty kingdom of Tonga has one internet server for the entire country, so things are a little hit and miss. I have a heap of photos – including evidence that we actually did catch a fish that was ‘THIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIS big!'(insert exaggerated arm gesture here) – which I will try to post in a separate blog, but it looks like I will have more luck in our next stop Vava’u.

The NZ to Tongatapu leg of the trip was something else. I lost count of the amount of times Paddy tried to tell me that sailing ‘wasn’t always like this!’ Basically what I have learned is a) don’t leave when the wind is blowing in the wrong direction even if the forecast says it will change and b) weather forecasters are lying bastards.

For the vast majority of the trip the wind was blowing in pretty much exactly the direction we wanted to go. This meant we had to motor into the wind to get anywhere. This is called heading to windward or beating into the wind – and it sucks. At times we had to tack away, sail in completely the wrong direction and then tack back to get anywhere at all – this also sucks. There is something quite soul destroying about discovering you have spent the entire day sailing away from your destination.

I would love to say I took all this in my stride with Stoicism and grace, but I must admit I had my moments. Pretty much as soon as we left NZ we started getting hit with 20/30 knot winds and yucky, sloppy swells. One of our crew, Karla, who is used to racing boats in Auckland was horribly seasick because her body just wasn’t used to such prolonged, horrid motion – it was heartbreaking because I knew exactly how she felt! I on the other had was a mixture of queasy, scared and in utter disbelief that my sailing experience so far had been so miserable weather-wise. Speaking to experienced sailors afterwards most said they had never struck conditions like we had. It wasn’t dangerous, just uncomfortable and it was pretty much unheard of to have head winds or no wind for the entire trip. Even the Pacific’s trademark southerly trade winds had decided to go on holiday for the season.

The first night was the worst. The swells weren’t any bigger than those we faced in Cook Strait, but they were breaking over the bow and making big thumping noises. Every time the boat lurched I was convinced we were going under, even though the rational part of my brain knew we were completely safe. I think a big part of it was the noise. Wildflower is pretty much our home and when the house suddenly lurches from side to side and makes a tonne of creaking, groaning and banging sounds, it can be a little unnerving! A book I am reading about storm tactics says to remember that noise can’t hurt you. When I read that while on dry land I thought it was a ridiculous statement – of course noise can’t hurt you! Noise takes on a whole new dimension in the middle of the ocean though and I actually found myself repeating that phrase in my head. Paddy was great too, explaining to me what all the creaks and groans meant and now I know what most of the scary noises are I’m feeling a lot better about it all.

Lynn from the Island Cruising Association told me that when the conditions were crappy I needed to think that the crap couldn’t last forever and she was right (though it felt like forever at the time!). I had one beautiful night watch when we actually got to sail and I was able to lie back, listen to music and watch the Milky Way. I saw two shooting stars as well, which was awesome – then it was back to windward again.

Time started moving incredibly slowly too. It seemed like every day we were ‘four or five days away’ – when we reached day six, the wind was still coming from the north east and we were still ‘four or five days away’ I have to admit I lost it a little. I wanted to go home, I wanted my cat, and most of all I wanted off the damned boat! After that little episode I was fine and feeling a lot more Zen about things – I think I just needed to get it out of my system. Paddy says the only thing you can really control when you are sailing is when you leave. Once you are out there you just have to take what you are given. It puts me in mind of that old rhyme: “Whether the weather be cold, or whether the weather be hot. I’ll weather the weather, whatever the weather, whether I like it or not.” I bet that one was written by a sailor!

The rest of the fleet was pretty much in the same boat (s’cuse awful pun) and our evening radio roll calls (skeds) were a real comfort. Hearing from people who were in the same situation as us made me feel a lot less isolated and hearing from boats up ahead that had better conditions was really reassuring. Instead of counting the days as we zig-zagged our way to Tonga, I started following the distance we had traveled instead and every day we were getting a little closer.

We didn’t end up stopping at Minerva reef like some of the fleet because our crew had reschedule flights back to NZ that they had already missed because of the delays. They got there in the end though and managed to get a few extra days in Tonga to unwind which was nice.

On about day 6 we had a particularly exciting morning. I was doing the 2 to 5am shift when the wind changed twice on me. Once in the right direction and then back to the wrong one again. The wind got up and up until we were looking at about 35-40 knots and it all got a little interesting. In the end we decided to heave to (basically this is a way of setting the sails up so you pretty much stall the boat but leave it in a comfortable enough position to wait out the weather) which meant we all got a bit of sleep while it blew over. I had read about this in my storm tactics book and it was really good to see how it worked and great to know that you can just put on the brakes in the middle of the ocean like that.

Our crew, Tony and Karla, had more experience on boats than me, but I think we were all getting over it by the end. Having to wrestle your way from one end of the boat to the other to go to the loo (only to have the toilet seat fly off on you when there is a particularly big swell) starts to wear thin after a while. I have so many bruises I look like an elderly banana – you could make a cake out of me. In the final days of the trip we had no wind at all and, while it wasn’t so great in terms of diesel consumption, it was a blessed relief not to be living on an angle for a little while. We also managed to reel in a couple of reasonable sized fish during that time – followed by a 50kg monster of a yellow finned tuna on the last day (he gets his own blog with lots of pictures!)

We had a hitch-hiker as well – a gannet that we couldn’t agree on a name for (we settled for Gary the gannet if it was a boy or Janet the gannet if it was a lady). Undeterred by the noise of the engine starting or the flashes on our cameras and only slightly grumpy about a couple of rain showers during the night, Janet/Gary parked up on our solar panels and refused to budge until morning.

We also saw a small pod of whales as we got closer to Tonga which was amazing, so all in all it was a pretty good trip in terms of wildlife spotting.

In the end it took us 12 days to get from New Zealand to Tonga and I feel I have grown quite a bit during that time. I went from scared out of my mind and sick of being at sea to being only mildly nervous and proud that I’d made it through. Tony and Karla were great and helped me sort out the things I need to work on and practice and I definitely feel ready for the next leg.

Our next stop will be the Vava’u archipelago, which is only a couple of days sailing away. Paddy has been there before and says it is beautiful. We plan to settle in there for a wee while, do a bit of diving and generally chill out. I can’t wait! Apparently they have better internet access too, so I might have more luck with the photos.

Next blog will be about Tonga itself which, while most definitely third world, is a lovely, welcoming and at times quite hilarious place.

Thinking of you all back in NZ

xxx