The following is a detailed account of our sail from Eden NSW Australia to Opua on the North Island of New Zealand. I composed it as we went, while my memory was fresh. -Robert
-------------------------------------------------
Eden Australia to Opua New Zealand
24 July 2008
We cast off our lines from the jetty at Snug Cove, Eden, at 9.10 AM. The night before we had filled up our water tanks, returned the two borrowed fenders and two tyres that had been on loan to us. This morning I paid a brief visit to John at harbour master's office to say good bye and to thank him for his help. He wished us the best and advised that we take the barge boards that had been given to us because of the big tides in NZ. On the way back to Pachuca I left a note for Peter thanking him for his help and letting him know that he could see photos of his boat on our blog.
The departure went very smoothly, though slowly because of the web of lines that we had set up over the last two days. But we worked calmly and methodically and with the aid of a gentle breeze got under way with no dramas.
The sail that day was wonderful: calm sea, clear skies, gentle breeze from the South. Late in the afternoon a group of dolphins put on a spectacular show with plenty of leaps out of the water, seemingly trying to outdo each other for our attention. At sundown Brenda and I had a glass of shiraz while happily tended to the helm.
The night turned out to be somewhat more challenging. Arnold helmed until midnight while I slept then I took over from midnight until 6 AM. The winds were variable, ranging from 20 kn to at times totally calm. We got a few rain squalls during the night with their peculiar effects on the wind. At about 3.30 AM after 30 minutes of no wind and flogging rigging I dropped the mainsail, tied the boom, and took to my bunk. An hour later Brenda woke me up reporting wind over 10 kn so I started sailing with some jib and with the assistance of the Autohelm managed to raise the reefed mainsail without having to wake up Arnold.
25 July 2008
We had a noon-to-noon distance covered of 113 miles. We have had a 15-20 kn southerly which at 4.PM increased to 25 kn forcing us to put in a second reef and roll the jib to about a no. 4. Our speed with this configuration is still a respectable 5.5 – 6 knots. There has been some concern about in the barometric pressure from 1025 to 1022 in the last 5 hours, but 1022 is still relatively high. We are having trouble getting clear weather faxes probably because of noise from the boat. After clearing the refrigerator, AIS, and overhead light of blame I've thought of the possibility that the wind charger is causing problems. This would explain why the noise seems to come and go. Arnold thinks that it is a good hypothesis because brushes generate all sorts of noise, and the wind charger is only 2 or 3 feet from the lower part of the HF antenna on the back stay.
I tried to contact Allan at American River VMR on two HF frequencies to get some advice on the weather.
26 July 2008
We sailed the entire day from midnight with a 25-30 kn southerly and many rain squalls that took the wind above 35 kn. Until sunset we ran with a double reefed main and a small jib. For the night we dropped the mainsail and ran with a small jib. We had been speculating about the origin of the strong wind, which had not been predicted in the last 7-day forecast that we saw in Eden, and were concerned that there may be a storm sneaking up on us. We figured that it was probably caused by a low south of us but the one that had affected Eden should have been well away past NZ by now. Fortunately yesterday I finally figured out what was causing the noise interference to our weather faxes and tonight we got good weather faxes showing a strong low over the north island of NZ and the prospect of improving weather in the Tasman Sea for the next few days. The noise problem was caused not by the wind charger but by the external power that I was supplying to the laptop. As soon as I pulled out the external power and allowed the laptop to run on its own power the noise disappeared. Solving the weather fax problem has taken a big load off all of our minds. As for the low, Brenda had heard in Eden that a low was moving to NZ from the Coral sea. It must have deepened much more than expected.
Arnold picked up a message from Allan at American River via the satellite phone. He had heard my call but I was not able to hear his response. He asked that I try again in Saturday night which I thought was the next day but turned out to be that same day. (Sorry, Allan)
Our noon-to-noon distance for the day was 127 nm.
27 July 2008
This is Sunday evening. We have sailed one third of the distance between Eden and the northern tip of the North island of NZ. The wind has moderated to 10-15 kn from the south. For most of the day we sailed with the jib only. In afternoon we raised the full mainsail in response the the falling wind speed. Just before sunset we took one slab of reefing out of the mainsail as a precaution against encountering a rain squall during the night.
28 July 2008
I managed to establish contact with Allan at American River. He seemed to hear me well but I could barely make out the occasional word from him. It was frustrating because I would have liked to have yarn with him. Anyway, I let him know that we were OK, can now get good weather faxes, and that I will try to contact Russel Radio in NZ as he had suggested.
We had a somewhat challenging night of sailing but managed to keep the boat moving at 4.5-5 kn for most of the night. In the early evening the night before we dropped the mainsail due to a weakening wind veering from S to SW and ran the entire night with jib only. The first two hours were frustrating because the wind was light and the sail kept flogging as the boat rolled. However, by 11PM the wind strengthened and we got the boat into a comfortable groove. At 9AM we were becalmed and motored for an hour principally to charge the badly depleted bank 2. Happily, at the end of that hour the wind was back and we were able to proceed at 4.2 kn with full jib on a broad starboard reach.
This was the third time that we had run the engine for an hour to recharge the batteries because for the last two days we were in the bad combination of relatively light winds (affecting wind charger) and cloudy skies (affecting solar panels). Nevertheless we cannot complain. We have managed to run our refrigerator almost continuously and have been untrammeled in our use of all of the other electrical instruments and gadgets on board. It was on the third day of the sail that we were forced to first use the engine for charging.
We started the engine again around night fall to charge up the batteries. After about 30 minutes I noticed that the ammeters measuring the flow of electricity from the alternators to the battery banks were reporting zero amps. Arnold discussed it with Arnold and we figured it highly unlikely that either both ammeters or both alternators had failed simultaneously, which pointed to a fan belt problem. We shut down the engine and slid back the cover and I breathed a sigh of relief when Arnold produced the mangled remains of our alternator belt. I soon produced four spare fan belts of various thicknesses and fortunately we had a very good match. After 30 minutes of careful work (lest we drop a vital nut or bolt into the irretrievable section below the engine) we closed everything up and voila! one ammeter was reporting 50 amps and the other 20 amps. On reflection, I'm pretty sure that the belt had been slipping for weeks. Two or three weeks ago I reported to Arnold that the ammeter to bank 2 was reporting 0 amps and I asked him to increase the engine revolutions which did the trick. I suspect that this was an early manifestation of the impending failure. Also, I remembering a few days ago wondering why our alternators were producing such little output. This explain part of our unhappiness with the performance of our batteries. Nevertheless I plan to have all of the batteries checked out in NZ, even though the two major ones are only about three months old.
It was a day of repairs. A few days before I had grumbled to Arnold that our third new roller furler line was getting mangled by something, but not by the jam cleat which I we had been careful to avoid. Yesterday Arnold reported that he though that he had spotted the problem: The line was rubbing against the side of the sheet block which had a fairly sharp corner. I dug around into my spares and soon we had fixed the problem with an additional block fixed to the toe rail to hold the line clear of the block. The line isn't as bad as it looks. The cover is frayed at various sections but the core is intact and should serve us well until we get to NZ. I also shaved off two edges of one of the cupboard doors in the head. When it was slammed shut it took a large screw driver and lots of effort to open it again. Fortunately I have a good rasp on board and managed to do a reasonable fix after an hour of patient work.
29 July
We had a splendid sail last night. We raised the mainsail just before dark and wisely decided to not reef it. At 1 AM when I relieved Arnold the boat was progressing at 4.3 kn, mainsail only on a starboard reach, with a gentle southerly wind and a calm sea. Arnold reported an easy time, managing the wheel with one foot and listening to music on his MP3 player. By then the wind was backing to the SE and I decided to spice up the action with a bit of head sail. The bulk of my watch consisted of rolling the jib in and out and hardening and loosening the sheets as the wind varied in strength and direction. Fortunately the wind never headed us (though it came close) and never dropped in speed enough to cause flogging of the rigging. Arnold took over at 6 AM and when I relieved him at 10 AM he reported that we were only 5 nm short of the midway point between Eden and Cape Reinga, on the Northwest tip of the North island of NZ.
At the moment Pachuca is traveling at 5.5 kn, only 5 degrees south of the rhumb line, full sail, slight weather helm, and steering herself with wheel lashed. Arnold is asleep. Brenda is about to cook some bacon and eggs.
30 July
Yesterday afternoon Brenda got the news from a NZ commercial radio station. There was a surprising and disturbing weather report of an impending storm over the north island. Late in the afternoon the wind started to pick up still from the south. The 8.PM weather fax showed fairly deep low NW of the north island, and it was expected to move down the western side of the island, across our path but over 400 miles ahead of us.
We had gone from a full mainsail to one reef at sunset and put in the second reef in the dark at about 9 PM. It was my watch until 2 AM and the wind kept getting stronger and stronger. Pachuca was dealing with it well – not too much heel, not too much weather helm, speed just over 6 kt. I was confident that we could ride this one all night. But it was not to be. The sea got rougher and rougher and at 2 AM I gave up and hove to with the mainsail down and a small area of the jib back winded off the port winch and the wheel lashed hard to port. By then the wind was ranging up to more than 40 knots. We spent the night battened down, boat moving at about 2 kn to the NW and by 10 AM today we had lost16 nm. It was an uncomfortable night with the boat constantly pitching and rolling and yawing, with the frequent occurrence of big waves hitting the boat hard and sending water cascading across the entire deck and into the cockpit. Our plan was simple: wait until the low moves south and the winds ease then we will use the fading winds of the low to make the remaining 470 nm to Cape Reinga.
In the late afternoon we came to realise that this was not a garden variety winter low but a special event. We got a message from Reg via the satellite link that included the statement that this was the deepest low in the Tasman Sea since 1998. Brenda picked up the news from NZ and most of it was devoted to the effects of the storm as it worked its way from the North island to the South island. There have been two deaths, many landslides, and power outages. A cruise liner 300 NE of NZ in 50 kn winds and 7m seas took a heavy with many injuries.
Just before sunset the wind was still recording winds into the low 40's knots and there was no question that we would spend a second night hove to. Arnold and I ventured on deck with full wet weather gear. I crawled to the mast and from there verified that the anchor was still in position and lashed down, and the two barge boards that we had picked up in Eden were still lashed to the port rail next to the spinnaker pole. Arnold mentioned the loose main sail trying to ride up the mast so I lashed its peak and put two loops of rope around it along the boom to tidy it up. Then we gibed to heave to with the weather at the starboard side. We were then drifting 1.5 kn to the SE. Brenda and I cooked a spaghetti dinner and had it over red wine while Arnold slept, too tired to answer the call to dinner. Later that night I saw the wind speed briefly hit 53 and 54 kn.
31 July
We set sail at 10.30 AM doing 4 kn down the rhumb line with a tiny amount of jib and the wind from well aft. We had been hove to for 32.5 hours and had actually gained about 20 nm. After failing to receive either weather faxes or verbal reports for 24 hours I told Arnold that there must be something wrong and I would check the HF radio antenna. He looked out and said that he could see a black cable dangling from above the solar panel area. In the high winds the connection at the backstay antenna had failed due to metal fatigue. Later that morning we fixed it with me standing one leg on the Zodiac inflatable, tied at the waist by ropes going to both sides of the cockpit, and the other leg in a rope stirrup so that I could tension myself and keep steady in the heavy rolling while I reached over the panel with two hands and just managed to fix the cable to the backstay with two universal clamps. Soon I verified that I was receiving voice and later that day I received excellent weather faxes from NZ. We sailed all night with a small amount of jib sailing more or less down the rhumb line.
1 August
We continued sailing all day with a small amount of jib. The wind was still at about 25 kn and our speed was 5-6 kn. The wind started veering in the afternoon and an hour before dark we put the boat on a port tack putting us on a heading just north of Cape Reinga. The 9AM weather fax showed the low sitting on top of the South Island still causing havoc. We were getting 25 kn winds more than 400 miles from its centre.
2 August
From the time that Arnold took the helm at 2 AM the wind steadily built up through the high 30's and through the 40's. When the wind reached 50 kt Arnold roused the crew and reported the high winds and that the boat was becoming unmanageable even with the greatly reduced jib. We reduced the head sail to little more than a square meter, hauled in both sheets and jibed the boat to heave to with the starboard to weather. The weather to starboard presents several advantages: (1) We are in a position to deploy the para anchor from the safety of the cockpit. Against intuition the para anchor must be launched from the up wind side of the boat and it must be launched from the starboard side because its section of line between the bow and cockpit is clipped to the starboard gunwale (2) Arnold can sleep comfortable in the port quarter berth,(3) The marine toilet is on the port side of the boat and its inlet and outlets are guaranteed to be below the water line. On the other hand it makes Brenda's tasks in the starboard side galley more difficult because everything wants to jump out of the cupboards onto the sole.
I am delighted to report that Pachuca heaves to very well. She sat comfortably making way of 1.3-2.5 kt depending on the wind strength. The heave to configuration is simple: mainsail down, a square meter or two of back winded headsail, wheel lashed to windward. The lashed wheel may not be that important. One morning we woke up to find that the lashing had come loose during the night but Pachuca stayed hove to. I should have stated “comfortable as can be expected” because while hove to in high winds the boat is subjected to a regular battering by breaking waves that hit her hard with a loud bang, cause her to lurch, and send a cascade of water over her deck. Having said that, our S&S 39 has once again lived up to her reputation of being a good sea boat. It is at times like this that her low profile and curved hull, deck, and cabin provide incalculable benefit. I wonder how Pachuca would heave to and stand up to the battering had she a pilot house, high freeboard, a mizzen mast or, shudder shudder, a collection of bicycles, fuel containers, and surf boards lashed to her rails.
Anyway, hove to at 5 AM I contacted NZ maritime radio report our winds. The seemed to hear me well and understand our position and wind strength but we had great difficulty hearing them. I could tell that the person was making a valiant effort to give us a weather report. Arnold and I took to our bunks like experienced and tired sailors. I woke up at 10 AM to see Brenda sitting on the starboard bunk on the weather side, hands braced against the table, with a look of apprehension. I rubbed my sleepy eyes and told her to relax. She said that she found that difficult to do when she was looking across and up through the port holes of the steeply heeled boat looking at the horizon. Soon after I donned my wet weather gear and made a dash to the lazarette to turn on the gas. The sea was a cauldron of waves and white spume. Fortunately I made it back into the cabin before the next “greenie” hit us. Brenda produced hot coffee and buttered toast, Arnold woke up, and we had a refreshing breakfast. Not long after that I reported a tiny sliver of blue sky and was rewarded with another wave slamming into the boat. By noon the sun was relatively clear and the wind had settle to the 30's.
We didn't see this one coming. We received the latest weather fax last night at 9 PM and although it was rather complex, it indicated 35 kt winds in our area. However, there was an occluded warm front approaching we we were not sure just what this would mean weather-wise. One hint if impending trouble was that Brenda heard on NZ radio that there were gale-strength northerly winds expected on the north island last night.
Anyway, we made the best of it getting plenty of rest and eating very well. That night we watched “Master and Commander”, which Brenda had never seen before. She noted the heightened effect of from watching the ship scenes from a venue that was actually pitching around in the sea. There was one battle scene where the first salvo of cannon fire coincided perfectly with a wave hitting Pachuca broadside like a sledge hammer, with the associated noise and concussion throughout the boat. We are saving “The Perfect Storm” for a really special occasion (tee hee hee).
3 August
We spent a second night hove to and were disappointed that the wind was not abating. During a rain squall I saw wind speeds in the low 50's. However, we had received a 72-hour prediction weather fax the evening before and the prospects for 3 days out were very good. In the morning the sun was shining and the wind speeds had dropped to the high 20's. The barometer had risen a full 10 points to 1007 millibars. The 9 AM weather fax showed that the low had crossed NZ and was now just SE of Cook Strait (between the two islands) and just as important, there were no fronts headed our way. We had actually gained some ground during the heaving to and were 205 nm from the cape. The crew had a conference and decided to set sail before noon to arrive at the cape in the morning in two days. Before we resumed sailing at noon we did a bit of housework and tightened the alternator belt. We had a satisfactory sail during the day and throughout the night, with the wind at about 25 kt, the seas slowly but steadily falling, and Pachuca no more uncomfortable than she was hove to.
We were hove to for a total of 31 hours during which we drifted a nett 38 nm and gained about 10 nm in our quest for NZ.
4 August
In the morning we saw that the barometer had risen to 1018 mb. The latest weather fax gave us confidence in the prospects of good weather for the rest of our voyage. At noon we were 100 nm S/SW from Cape Reinga. Soon after I contacted NZ Maritime Radio on 4125 MHz to announce our presence. He got our boat details, position, and ETA at Opua (3 or 4 days), and advised us to contact them again later when we were closer. Our plan is to anchor on the East side of the North Island for 24 hours or so in which to rest, clean up the boat and ourselves, and fill in the NZ entry forms that we were given at Eden. We will then contact NZ Maritime Radio again once we are underway in the final let to Opua. I advised Arnold to be on the lookout for any airplanes showing interest in us. We have switched on the VHF radio set the ch 16 to be ready to communicate with NZ coastal surveillance aircraft.
5 August
We sailed all night with a gentle but adequate SW wind with partial jib and no mainsail. At 4 AM Brenda came on deck and I told her that at 30 nm out I would have expected to see the loom of the light house at Cape Reinga by now. She stepped forward and after a hard look saw it barely visible off the starboad bow. We brought up C-Map (I had decided not to pay $399 for a NZ cartridge for the chart plotter and to rely instead on my C-Map for our brief stay in NZ.) on my laptop and saw that we had indeed made good progress and that we were starting to pass to the south of some worrisome unlit islands 15 miles to port. Soon we had first light and the Reinga light could occasionally be seen directly. We woke Arnold up and the three of us negotiated the passage into the dawn and I stood down from my watch and hit the sack. About two hours later the wind changed from a gentle SW to a moderate S. We raised the mainsail with one reef and soon we were traveling at more than 6 kt across the top of NZ with a 20 kt Southerly on the starboard beam. We analyzed the situation and agreed that we did not want to round North Cape and start beating our way down the East coast of NZ. We decided to take advantage of what nature had presented to us and anchor at Tom Bowling Bay on the west side of North Cape. We motored in and dropped anchor in 11 m of water with no dramas.
By 7 PM the wind had become a gentle SE but by then we had decided to spend the entire day at the anchorage unless we were chased out by adverse winds or weather forecast. There was much to do to prepare ourselves an the boat for formal entry into NZ. Late in the afternoon we investigated the source of nose and vibration that I had first noticed two nights previously but kept to myself to avoid burdening the crew needlessly. The wind charger entire propeller section had become loose and had an alarming amount of play in it. It had done a magnificent job of supplying us with plenty of electric power while we were hove to and not able to safely go out into the cockpit to start the engine, but the stress and vibration had obviously taken their their toll.
6 August
We all woke up soon after 7 AM very, very refreshed. We reckon that I slept a total of 14 hours with short intervals devoted to weather fax and other duties. After the ardors of the crossing we all felt a sense of relief and security as well as great physical comfort from a warm and dry bed that did not treat us like tossed salad. It was Brenda who suggested that we should get moving on that day rather than spend another night because of the uncertainties of NZ weather. We devoted the morning to some basic housework and baths. Arnold took his in the cockpit with fresh and warm water in buckets. Brenda took hers in the privacy of the head with warm fresh water. I took mine with a swim in the NZ waters violating my sense of humility with deprecating remarks such as what a pack of wimps my shipmates were. By late morning the wind had settled to SW and we agreed to have lunch and then set sail. Arnold and I then poured approximately 17 liters of water from our emergency containers into the starboard tank which services the galley. The tank sounded empty when we started pouring the water but to its credit it supported three of us for two full weeks without running out. We figure that the port tank which services the head is at least half full. (Note that both tanks are accessible to all areas when we use the pressure pump.)
We motored out of the bay at 2 PM, raised the full headsail, then motored around North Cape. We then set a SE course with the 15 kt SW wind from our starboard beam with full jib. We then had a splendid, glorious sail in a gentle sea, under a clear sky, and an easy helm. This was cruising as it should be: relaxed beers in the cockpit watching the land go by and the sun go down. I called NZ Maritime Radio and we switched to a working frequency where I responded to all sorts of questions regarding us and our boat. This will be passed to Customs, who should be expecting us. I gave our ETA as sometime during the following afternoon. I then asked him for a schedule of their voice weather forecasts because since getting close to NZ we have not been able to get their weather faxes. At 5.33 PM we got a good, clear weather report on VHF 68. The following day would bring a steadily-strengthening N wind which would reach gale force in the night. We wanted to make Opua as early during the following day as possible.
7 August
The good sailing continued through most of the night. The sea was extremely calm. We had a 1 meter swell from the north helping us along and the chart indicated a current to the south. These elements made the boat perform like magic. On a beam reach with a moderate wind we were doing a consistent 6 and 6.5 knots. At 1 AM I relieved Arnold at the helm and continued the splendid sail under a full canopy of stars, with Scorpio sinking in the East, Orion rising in the West. There was an offshore breeze and the North Island of NZ was acting like a giant breakwater.
As dawn approached the wind started to die. At one point we were getting 4 kt of wind over the mast but because of the calm sea I was able keep the sails more or less full and the boat moving at a speed of between 1.7 and 3.2 kt. At dawn Brenda was on deck and took over the helm just as we got an adverse 30 degree change of a stronger wind. I roused Arnold and soon we were motoring the last 7 nm past the head toward Opua. From the instructions that NZ Maritime Radio had given to us I was pretty sure that we would have a port side tie-up and the quarantine jetty, so on the way we raised the quarantine flag and prepared fenders on both sides of the boat, and a barge board on the port side. I zipped up the mainsail and then we enjoyed the passing scenery as we worked our way 10 nm up the channel to the marina.
The marina was as we had envisioned it. Brenda spotted the “Q” sign on the isolated floating jetty and by 11 AM we were tied up. Mike, representing bio-control, and Jo, representing Customs, visit us less than an hour later. Jo said that we should have faxed our advanced notice form from Eden and we apologized because we had thought that Australian Customs had forwarded all of the required information. Mike went through our food stores and confiscated the things that we had expected (e.g. honey) and some that we had not expected (e.g. Dried kidney beans). Mercifully, he allowed us to consume our delicious smoked salmon on the spot. This award-winning salmon from Eden had skin on it which made it prohibited. Anyway, soon the formalities had been completed and we were allowed to lower our “Q” flag and contact the marina on VHF 12 for a berth. The marina was very helpful and soon we were in pen D39, a floating pen.
One of the advantages of having battled our way to NZ in winter is that it is the “off” season and we expect few difficulties with accommodation and services, speaking of which there are all sorts of boating services literally a walk away from the pen, e.g. sail maker, stainless steel work, marine electronics, mechanical work, chandlery.
We booked the pen for 30 days and our plan is to complete our list of boat repair/modification tasks and do a few days of touring within that time.
Comments on the sail
The Tasman Sea crossing was tougher than we had expected – the toughest so far. However, it was less difficult for us than Bass Strait or Spencer Gulf because the boat was in better shape, we were able to heave to better, and we had more confidence.
Brenda was queasy for the first three days of the trip but came good after that. Arnold had a short spell of vomiting a few days out of Eden, but we're not sure if it was due to sea sickness. I have had no hint of sea sickness during the entire cruise.
We used the one gas cylinder from a week before leaving Eden until our arrival in NZ, with the second in reserve. This is satisfactory because Pachuca's gas cylinders are small (3.7 kg).
Our fresh water stock held up well during the trip. At our anchorage on the northern end of NZ we emptied our 7 liters of reserve water into the starboard tank (140 liter capacity), which had not run dry but sounded pretty empty as we poured the water in. That means that the starboard tank supported three people for two weeks using prudent water conservation practices (such as washing dishes with sea water) but undergoing no hardships. We think that the port tank, supporting only the head wash basin, was at least half full.
We have not yet had the opportunity to try out our water maker.
We had to use the engine several probably a dozen times to top up our batteries. We are not happy with the performance of our lead-acid “house” batteries. They do not seem to hold much capacity (although two are rated at 150 a/h and the third is rated at 50 a/h) and have a too-slow recharge rate. We plan to investigate gel or AGM batteries. The wind charger came into its own during the high winds when we were hove-to. With the prevailing cloudy weather it has been our principal provider of electric power. Once we enter the tropic we expect the solar panels to dominate.
Crossing the Tasman represents the final of three major hurdles of the circumnavigation: (1) Great Australian Bight in winter (2) Bass Strait in winter (3) Tasman Sea in winter. I was more apprehensive about the Tasman Sea that I am about the Horn, which we plan to round at the optimal time of Dec-Jan.
