New Zealand to Fiji

Our return to SEA CHILD was filled with anxiety at the winter in the waters around New Zealand and excitement at returning to the tropics of the South Pacific Ocean. We arrived in Whangarei on May 24, after a brief layover in Viti Levu, Fiji. We had stopped in Fiji to inspect the various marina options that could accommodate SEA CHILD, either in Denerau or Vuda Point. We found Fiji to be inviting, hot, and well worth the expected 7 day journey north east from New Zealand.

Once we landed in Auckland, we continued north by rental car to Whangarei Town Basin Marina, where SEA CHILD had been berthed for 2 months. The winter was bringing rain and cold, windy weather to Northland. When we opened up SEA CHILD, we found her sound and welcoming and after a few days at the marina provisioning and changing out house batteries, we found the chill of winter to be overbearing. Off we went to the store, in search of down comforters and space heaters, items that we would never need in the warmth of the tropics! Yet SEA CHILD was so cold at night that the interior cabins would weep with moisture once the cabin doors were closed. After a quick week provisioning and studying weather, we found an excellent opportunity to head up to Marsden Cove Marina, check out of New Zealand, and set sail on a course of 20 degrees for the dateline and Fiji, approximately 7 days away.

The sail north was bittersweet. Our time in New Zealand was filled with adventure and good friends were met along the way. Our sadness at saying farewell to Marsden Cove, our first home in New Zealand, was compounded when their sleek helicopter happened to fly over us as we sailed out towards Poor Knights on our first afternoon at sea. The evening chill stayed with us for our first 2 days at sea, weather conditions were mostly favorable with winds 20-30 knots from the SW. On the 3rd day at sea, the winds died on us and we motorsailed for about a day before the brisk northerly winds filled in. By Friday, June 4, we had raced up the dateline and at the dawn postion we were within 83 miles of the reef at Viti Levu. On this day, we hit our speed sailing record for the crossing, 19.6 knots, racing down the giant swells between Kauala Island and Viti Levu, during our final hours of open ocean sailing into Fiji.

The rhumbline from Whangarei to Lautoka, Fiji was 1,079 miles. SEA CHILD actually sailed 1,321 miles in 6 days, 7.5 hours. Average boat speed 8.7 knots. Our watch system was 3 1/2 hours on, 7 hours off, with 3 of us holding a watch. Our 4th passenger, a friend from California, floated between the various watches. We prepared many meals in advance in New Zealand, expecting the weather to be cold at first (it was) and busy at the end of the crossing (fantastic sailing). Preparing meals in advance was a fantastic idea, since the watches were easy to handle and the meals simple to pull together.

SEA CHILD has now sailed over 10,000 miles with us from Trinidad in January, 2008 to Fiji in June 2010. We have seen familiar faces along the way, and made new friends as well. The next leg includes continued exploration of Fiji, as well as Tonga, Niui, Vanuatu and Great Barrier Reef, Australia.

Kula, Maui, Hawaii

20 degrees, 77 minutes NORTH

156 degrees, 32 minutes WEST

SUP at Poor Knights, New Zealand

Cruising the world with our SUP boards and two-man kayak are the must have toys on this journey. Combined with our bicycles, we can pretty much explore any location that Sea Child takes us to. In Northland

, NZ, there are a series of islands just offshore, call the Poor Knights. These rocky islands are clustered, two major islands with several smaller peaks and rocks throughout the chain. About 5 miles long total, the Poor Knights makes for a wonderful day destination from Tutukaka, about 12 nautical miles across the South Pacific Ocean.

We were determined to explore every cave and crevasse of Poor Knights, by SUP boards and our dinghy, lovingly called the "kid". After our arrival, around noon this third visit, we immediately launched the two SUP boards, one an Ali'i and the other a Naish which we recently picked up in Tutukaka marina. We were told there that no one had SUPd the Knights, and boy were they bummed to hear that both Eric and I had done just that the other day.

This time, though, we took two boards, Eric's brother and his wife, and with effort and determination, we were set on passing through all the arches on Arches Island, the most southern group in the Poor Knights chain. We suited up, in our 3m wetsuits, as the water here is a bit chilly, much cooler than even what we experienced in the Galapagos. Away we went, toward the smallest arch nearest Sea Child, through the rocky cavern about 10 meters long. Emerging from the other side, we encountered the agitated waters of the center of the southern end, the open ocean just beyond the eastern arch, the current and waves pressured through the narrow arch openings.

Around the corner, and the giant arch, tall enough for most boats to drive through, awaited us as we continued our focused efforts. Just staying on the boards without a fall took all our attention, the agitated water more pronounced as the water would bounce off the sides of the the arches. The water would come at us from all sides, making no sense of its movement, as we continued onward. Exiting the arch, we rounded the corner to the lee shore of Arches Island, just another km to reach Sea Child and the completion of the first circle of Arches Island. Our adrenaline was spiked, our legs were aching to stay steady, and at last, after what seemed an eternity but in reality was maybe 40 minutes, we had done something no one else could claim to do. SUP the giant arches at Arches Island, Poor Knights, NZ.

While cruising the world is the most exciting definition of any life, ours is blessed by these momentous occasions. We are bound to Sea Child by our love of the sea. We are sailing the waters first documented by Captain James Cook. We have our tales to tell. And now, we have our firsts as well.

Bora Bora to Rarotonga, Cook Islands

We are now 211 miles southwest of Bora Bora, on a rumbling rushing ocean filled with wind from the east, waves from the south and east, and enough spray to wash Sea Child several times over. Yesterday morning around 11:30 am we cleared the buoys at Bora Bora, bidding our farewell to French Polynesia and their beautiful lush islands. We enjoyed our time there, even had the reef fish literally eating out of our hands while snorkeling the popular Bora Bora spot called, ironically, "Coral Gardens". This coral gardens was different from the one on Maui, the snorkel boats actually feed the reef fish who have no fear whatsoever, and when you swim into the area, they come right up to your mask and poke at your hands. It was the closest I've ever seen reef fish, and is definitely one of many wonderful memories of our time in French Polynesia.

The sailing we are experiencing right now is intense, plenty of wind thats for sure! We have made 211 miles from Bora Bora, and it has not yet been 24 hours since our departure. At this rate, we expect our arrival in Rarotonga to be tomorrow afternoon. With this sailing experience, I must say that it is intense, the seas are wild out here, powerful, rolling past us, throwing us around a bit, and Sea Child is responding with all her power, as Eric says, she can take this stuff way easier than we can! It's an impressive ocean, and when we left Bora yesterday, it was like we were shot out of the starting gate, big screecher up with full main and we saw 15 knots instantly! For the night, Eric decided to double reef down the main and reef the jib, and as I sit here writing this email, we are still sailing a steady 12 knots. Talk about power!

Writing on the computer inside this powerhouse of a vessel, things are scattered here and there, Sandro's forward bunk is soaked and things are finding new homes all over the place. We are all trying to get our rest, not an easy thing to do on a sea like this. At this rate, our arrival into Rarotonga will be total sailing of 2 1/2 days. Now that's fast. We are not ones to complain about speed and distance, but this crossing is turning out to be the fastest yet on this leg of our Great Adventure.

CURRENT POSITION:
18 degrees 18.131 minutes SOUTH
155 degrees 00.088 minutes WEST

A Glimpse of French Polynesia

After weeks, literally, at sea among the great rollers of the massive Pacific Plain, we dropped anchor inside Point Venus, Tahiti. The 1:00am set was the climax of an evening speed run, 11.5 knots from Fakarava to Tahiti, full moon rising, emotions running high on Sea Child. As we neared Tahiti, we knew change was in the air, a crew change and a direction change. Sea Child had covered over 5000 miles from Panama, we witnessed pure beauty in the flat calm, we rode bikes on white coral atolls of the Tuamotus. Our pomploumousse from Fatu Hiva was ripe, our laundry bags full. Arriving in Tahiti, beautiful paradise, was a bittersweet moment. We cherished our morning hotcakes and bacon, coffee and skim session. And then we moved toward Papeete and Taina Marina.

Debby had to fly out, after her wondrous crossing of the Pacific. With her, we were treated to good conversation, great food, wonderful companionship with our fun crew member. She read every book we had on board, watched every DVD, stood every watch, made every pot of coffee. Saying farewell is never easy, and to see Debby off was one of the hardest things we had done on Sea Child.

Yet with every change, comes something new and exciting, and in our case, the arrival of Sandro D'Onofrio from Italy was an exciting change. He was on the original Sea Child test run, back in the Caribbean, when we test sailed from Trinidad to Grenada and St. Vincent. His arrival meant we were heading not only west, but also south, to the islands of Moorea, Huahine, Raiatea, Taaa and Bora Bora. On Thursday, we head to New Zealand, by way of Rarotonga. Our time in French Polynesia is winding down, and our preparations for the sail south are gearing up.

But first, we must acknowledge the pure beauty of French Polynesia. Moorea, with its vistas and snorkeling, inside the reefs and along the shoreline. The first huts above the water at the Hilton resort, then the Sofitel resort looking east to Tahiti. The views reminded us of Maui, the west side of Lahaina, so eery in their similarities. From Moorea we sailed overnight to Huahine, a true hidden beauty, the east end by far the most fantastic snorkeling we have found yet on this Great Adventure. Carter was able to skim behind the dinghy, making great photography with his tricks and speed across the water. We explored the coastline and motus, loosing ourselves in the turquoise blues of the lagoon. We snorkeled massive coral heads that kept going all across the channel, and swam in currents that appeared from over the reefs end. We visited the Te Tiare Resort in west Huahine, and smiled at Sandro doing the Tamure dance with the beautiful Tahitian dancers who pulled him out the audience. And we sailed away, heading east to Raiatea & Taaa, the two islands who share the same giant lagoon, racing the dinghy across from one island to the other in a challenge of strenght, to hold on in the waves the grew by the currents from the reef. Across we went, in search of gasoline, and had the workout of our lives, just hanging on as we jumped over the waves. Then it was the farewell again, of Taaa, where Richard, the bar owner at the Yacht Club asked us why we were leaving so soon? We just got there? Yet sailing to the other islands has become a mission for us, to see as much as we can in such a short period of time.

And Bora Bora, with a pod of dolphins guiding us to the channel in the reef, and a single, mountain giant looming above the island, surrounded by pristine motus. It's an eery feeling, being this far into French Polynesia, knowing that we are preparing to leave and head down to the cooler climate of New Zealand. For now, we enjoy today, we enjoy the views around us, the flavored rums, the vanilla, the friendly Tahitian natives, and try not to think so much about the future. We are living our Great Adventure now; and what a great adventure it truly is.

Bora Bora Yacht Club, Bora Bora, French Polynesia

16 degrees 29.48' South 151 degrees 45.62' West

Fakarava and the 4-day calm

After what seemed like an eternity on the ocean, we finally made our entrance into the passage at Fakarava Atoll, Tuamotus. The calm we went through was the most unusual ocean we have ever seen. The sunrises would wash the ocean in all colors of the rainbow, the morning clouds would appear as swirls in the water as they reflected off the flat, glass like surface. At one point, the water would appear to have drops of creamer swirling around and through the blue depths, greys and blues and greens. The water was no different from the sky, only reflecting back the sheer beauty of the southern ocean. This weather pattern captivated us for 4 days, the heat of the days though went through our souls, our bodies radiating the sun and our spirits seeking shade and cool. At one point, we stopped the boat to swim, we took snorkel gear and fins and swam quite a ways from Sea Child, taking pictures of her from the middle of literally nowhere. Now that is an eery feeling!

Entering the pass at Fakarava was a challenge to us. We arrived at the atoll before sunrise, but since Eric had never been here before, he wanted to wait until he could visually navigate the pass. The sheer depths outside the atoll could not be read on our fathometer, and inside the pass was around 15 meters. The marriage between the two created the roughest water we have seen yet on this Great Adventure. The steep peaks of ocean currents, pushing up as water rushed every which way, created not only swells that could be surfed, but also created a washing machine effect that appeared as steep white water, like a rushing current on the Colorado River. The eddys on either side of this current were as if a steam ship had just churned up the water, and the fatho would read 5 meters, even though we were in 15000 feet of water. It was a truly interesting phenomenon. And so was Fakarava.

Fakarava, as one of the largest atolls in the Tuamotus, is 35 miles long, 17 miles across, and about 1/2 mile wide. The interior of the atoll itself is just like you would image the south Pacific to appear, turquois blue water, white coral sand, lush green palm trees, white roads. All we needed to complete the picture of Fakarava was a cold Corona and a good ditigal camera (we did have the camera) to capture what could only be called paradise. The atoll is flat, our anchorage inside the atoll was next to a navigation marker that looked like an arrow pointing up to the sky, yet set on top of the most beautiful white coral head. The snorkeling around this coral head was spectacular, with clams the size of cantaloupes, edged with teal and cobalt and taupe. The colors of Fakarava, both underwater and on shore, were spectacular. Our visit was brief, not even 36 hours, as we need to be in Tahiti for Debby's departure on Friday. We all agreed, though, that Fakarava is a must return destination, to relax and explore and appreciate.

We are now 161 nautical miles from Papeete, Tahiti. The winds are still light, and we expect our landfall to be sometime Thursday morning after sunrise. Then the big clean up, transition, and reprovision will begin as we say farewell to Debby and Aloha to Sandro, who meets us on Sunday night. We expect our departure from Tahiti to be Monday or Tuesday next week.


CURRENT POSITION:

16 degrees 31 minutes SOUTH
146 degrees 59 minutes WEST

Scent of an Island

4000 miles and 4 weeks have passed since we left Panama City, on our Great Adventure across the South Pacific Ocean. The weather has been varied during this journey, from hot to cold, into the wind, reaching and flying downwind. We have eaten fabulous meals and read fantastic books. Our time on Sea Child has been just that, our time, and we are all very aware of how fast it is flying by. At 142 miles from the Marquesas islands, around 1:30am, the winds shifted out of the west, and we became aware of the smell of the approaching islands. Animals, like goats or boar, the musky smell of wild creatures and their presence on a remote island. After 14 days at sea, this change to our senses was pronounced; we were near our first French Polynesia destination.

Approaching Hiva Oa, we sailed through a minor cold front, with the sky darkening, outlining major distant squalls, the sky a dramatic silver at sunset. Our world on the sea is so simple, so beautiful, filled with sunshine and cobalt blue days, a billion stars at night, appreciating the beauty of the Pacific Ocean, after its left us in our wake. As we arrived in Hiva Oa, we sailed 3,070 miles from Galapagos, averaging 219 miles per day. Top boat speed on the crossing was 18 knots, spinnaker run, mostly out of control! Just focusing on keeping the massive blue, green & white sail full on a night watch took every ounce of focus we could muster. A degree or two off, the giant sail would collapse and wake the entire boat. We sailed with the spinnaker for 4 days straight, day and night, hand steering, racing towards the Marquesas. While the effort at focus was intense, we appreciated the great sailing that we were blessed to experience on our Galapagos to Marquesas crossing.

We arrived at Hiva Oa early Saturday, October 24, 2009. Coming into Taahuku Bay, we followed the range markers and navigation lights, dropping anchor at 2:00am. After a few celebratory beers, we all hit the sack for a few hours of much needed sleep. And awaking around 10:00am, we discovered the first strong wi-fi signal and internet access in over 2 weeks time. We anchored in the little bay about a mile from Atuona, the main town in Hiva Oa. Our mission across the open ocean was complete, and our exploration of French Polynesia was about to begin.

Hiva Oa, 9 degrees 48 minutes SOUTH, 139 degrees 02 minutes WEST.

Galapagos, Ecuador via the Open Ocean

880 miles turned into over a thousand, tacking, driving, feathering, and going to weather from Panama to the Galapagos Islands. At one point in our journey, we found that 44 minutes north of the equator would take us well over 12 hours, in cold winds, dressed in jackets and pants. We pounded into the sea, waves only at around 4-6'. The chill in the air was unexpected, night watches had us drinking coffee and bundled up, just to stand a 3 hour watch. Our spirits remained high, though, as the excitement was building. 6 days after leaving Panama City, we finally reached these incredible islands offshore, the Galapagos Islands of Ecuador.

Our crossing of the equator was anti-climatic, somewhere around 4:30am on Saturday, October 3, 2009. We went to weather, sailing at what seemed an eternally slow speed of 7.5 knots. And for Sea Child, this was slow. She is built to race down waves, reach across the ocean, and going to weather was painfully slow. Finally, after beating across the equatorial current (from south to north, at 1.5 knots), we arrived at Academy Bay, Santa Cruz Island, Galapagos, Ecuador. The sun had burned through the clouds, the winds backed off, and we were at anchor.

These magical islands astounded us, their landscape similar to Maui, where the coastal plain is arid and barren, the upper "highlands" with their greenbelt of vegetation beginning at about 1600' altitude. The journey across the sea had us dreaming of the marine life here at Galapagos, we all pictured Blue Footed Boobies and Giant Iguanas; silky Sea Lions and Lonesome George, the only remaining giant tortoise from the island of Pinta, all awaiting our arrival. Stunned by fatigue and natural beauty, we immediately immersed ourselves in all that Santa Cruz has to offer: Visits to the Charles Darwin Research Center, hikes to Tortuga Beach, and tours to outer islands, including Floreana and Isabella. Our visit to the Galapagos will last only 6 shorts days, as the Marquesas Islands awaits us, 2,700 miles away.

We expect to re-provision within a few days and we have already taken on the necessary extra fuel and washed piles of laundry. In the meantime, wandering around Santa Cruz, discovering the fabulous restaurants, shopping, and of course, the incredible wildlife that is the Galapagos, is a well earned respite from the sea. As we plan for our next leg, we enjoy today. These are the days that we will think back on in the future, over lemonade on the front porch. These are the islands we will treasure, with family and friends. This is the story we will tell, again and again. And the adventure continues.

Santa Cruz, Galapagos, Academy Bay, Puerto Ayora.

Latitude: 00°45' S Longitude: 90°19' W