Dispatch from Kiwi

What a great country for sailing. The winds blow here. The eastern coast of New Zealand is just like the Gulf Islands if they had the Pacific Ocean shores instead of being sheltered by Vancouver Island. Except that it's 10 degrees warmer, the water is warm enough to swim in, there are fish to catch, and the wind blows all the time. Up and down the eastern coast, quite often right off the coast, and hard sometimes.

Right now I'm in Tryphena Harbour on Great Barrier Island, and you would swear to goodness gracious I was anchored in Ganges Harbour. Maybe the town is a bit less, just a store and a couple of bars, three if you count the picnic tables, at the store doors. You can drink storebought coldies minimum of 12 feet away from the door. Many do, on the many picnic tables. Easiest way to meet a natural Kiwi, say hello to him/her over a storebought, they are really friendly.

I picked up the crew in Tutukaka, the harbour for the Poor Knights Islands. Fay, francaise, had an ad on the Whangarei Yacht Club and she showed up after emails, with her friend and a young girl. Simon, British had been having a beer or two with me last night and I offered to take him sailing with the girls. We all met at 9 AM and were away by 10. Fay took the first turn at the wheel and from the first turn to get on course, she handled the wheel pretty good. At the Poor Knights, we saw those schools of trevally on the surface again, so we dove with them and amazing being on the very wall of fish, packed like bricks, swimming like one. Alas I have no photo, I have not been able to procure an underwater camera.

We had a great broad reach back to Tutukaka, and Fay signed on as crew and stayed aboard. Simon was let go onshore, and after the night of consultation, the next morning we met at 0900 to sign Simon onto the crew. We set sail for the Poor Knights, but the wind was right on the nose, so turn south on a broad reach for Great Barrier Island. That was an exciting sail, lots of wind and everyone took turns steering. Simon was relaxing on the lower side when a wave smacked him proper and he jumped up exclaiming, "Jes*s!", that became his nickname. We anchored at Nagel Cove that night. Next morning into Port FitzRoy, a nice port with a store and some of the many great walks, up to waterfalls, through the forest, to the hotsprings.

Smokehouse Bay is one of the many fingers of Port FitzRoy, very well protected, secure anchorage on Great Barrier Island. So ashore with the crew and we found two tubs and a hot water boiler. Lots of wood, and apparently unlimited quantities of clean fresh gravity feed water. A bar-be-que pit, of course, and a big smoker for smoking the big fish. So we set up at the Smokehouse Bay and drank some port as the hot tubs filled. Then it was a long soak to get rid of the last 3 or 4 days of snorkelling. Drinking port, in the hot tub, whilst the kids (as I began to call them) made supper and went fishing. Simon was amazed to catch fish on the tiny little flies jigged up and down, but he did catch 4. Not legal, released live. Supper was superb, Simon elected the chef. Fay enjoyed her bath, the inside private tub. She pronounced such is what a princess deserves, and her nickname became princess.

Fay continued to hog the wheel, but she was actually a natural french sailor lady with a little bit of, I don't know, un petit peu de je ne sais quoi. Some of the best sailors in the world are French. We got the good fishing advice from the ice and tackle vendor and so we went to a nearby mussel farm. Some of the rows of floats are high, those mussels are harvested, some are low, those are full of mussels and the snapper come to eat there. we drifted down the rows in the zodiac, princess rowing, me and Simon fishing. I got 5 hits on the bait, missed them all, Simon got one and he landed a legal snapper. As well, the mussels on the bottom of the floats are left to die as the floats come up when the longlines are harvested, so we gathered a bunch. Another good night at Smokehouse Bay, we had hot tubs, we had bar-be-qued snapper and mussels, we had midnight swims in the bio-luminescence. We had some rum, we were up for many hours carrying on, finally I got the crew under control and back to the boat safe and sound apres 0300.

We sailed to Whangaparapara. The Kiwis pronounce the 'Wh...' as an 'F'. So that place is called Fangaparapara. It has a wharf, or farf in Kiwi. The walking on the Great Barrier is great, long trails through the Kiwi forest, a dip in the hot creek pools in the rain forest, and then another great forest trail home to the Whangaparapara estuary and anchorage. Next morning, the crew was got up at dawn since the wind was blowing into the bay and it was getting rough. We tacked out, and the crew was once again tested with tough winds, they did well. The winds fizzled on the way to the port of Tryphena. I was flying that old genaker, that had been repaired twice already, and a gust came up and blew it apart. So I get a new, tougher genakker for my christmas present. It was a great sail and I'll miss it. Fay was asked to give Simon the wheel for a while, who did a fine job, and Fay tried the sails. Once she was told she was neither weak nor sick, just a princess, she knuckled down and did fine, quickly learning how to winch, brake, and knot.

From Great Barrier Island, down the coast to the SE is Whitianga, (pronounced Fittyanga) a great marina exactly downtown with easy shopping, internet and a haulout as well. I made the kids do the sailing, I tried to write and clean the boat. But the wind let us down, first time that has happened to me in New Zealand. So we motored and did some fishing along the way. Rien du tout.

We left Whitianga for Great Barrier Island, but the wind and tides were against us and we turned south to anchor in Boat Harbour. This is a very forgotten bay, no roads no wharfs (farfs in New Zealand). There are lots of bird nests and chicks running around, the parents are pretty angry at us walking on the beach. Kiwis live here so there are lots of notices about all the poison spread around to keep the vermin and the dogs dead. Dogs have killed hundreds of kiwis in a few nights near Waitangi. So dogs have to be on the leash. The small river has the most nesting birds. The rocks are covered with a million little rock oysters, but no mussels to be found.

Next day we got into Tryphena and have been sailing every day since to some great spots all around the Great Barrier Island and the wind has been great. Last night the wind was too great and it further misbehaved by switching sides. I found myself dragging anchor and I dragged into the moored sailboats and shallow water at the head of the bay. Of course it was midnight, very black, windy and raining hard. Fay steered a fine course out into the dark, and I pulled that anchor up pretty damn fast. So tonight it's Smokehouse Bay again, a fine SW wind is keeping us off the beach and it feels pretty good, Christmas Eve Day, hot showers on the beach, and a fine anchorage in the sunshine.

Christmas greetings from Smokehouse Bay, Great Barrier Island, Pacific Ocean.

At this time of year, it's so natural to think of friends and family, if they are nice and close and warm inside sheltered from the Canadian winter. This year, I find myself outside that traditional Canadian Christmas. I'm here in the sunshine and the warm waters, I'm eating well and my crew, Fay la Francaise, is cooking a lovely stuffed pumpkin in the oven. Later today we will go to another boat for Christmas lunch and after that ashore for a bit of hiking, swimming and hot tubbing. This is a great Christmas for me, I've often dreamed of a simple Christmas in the sunshine and here I have it.

Fay has been great crew, she can really sail well, it must be a natural thing. She handles the boat very well and just the other night was well tested when she had to steer us up the dragging anchor line, as the wind and wind squalls blew us into the moored boats nearby, as the rain pelted down, in the pitch dark. I was pretty glad that she did a fine job and that she knew how fast to drive Prism, because the anchor rope I got in Fiji is pretty much junk, it twists and kinks all the time and jams the power gypsy. So to preclude the lengthy delays that jamming the gypsy gives, I was using adrenaline to hand bomb the chain and anchor aboard. Lucky me, Fay matched the speed and course of my hand bombing almost perfectly.

We had a great sail out from Tryphena the other day, she was sailing into 20 knots of wind with a reefed main and a small genoa. 'What if somebody went overboard', she asked. That is very valid question, because if she went over I am supposed to be able to get her, but if I went over, she had to be trained. So I threw the man overboard pole overboard. 'Heave-to!' and she did. 'Gybe!' 'Throw out the Rescue Collar!'. In very short order she had the boat gybed around the pole three times and the rescue collar even touched the pole. 'Swim, Simon, grab that pole and save yourself!'. On the fourth pass Fay sailed a fast close reach and I victoriously snatched that pole.

We had another sail out of Tryphena, this time the wind was a bit more, maybe up to 30. We had two reefs in the main and a reef in the small genoa. Once again, I couldn't get the helm from Fay, and she got soaked for her troubles, waves coming over the bow very regular. But it's like 25 degrees in the sun, and the wind is warm and even the waves are warm, so it's all good, or as the Kiwis say 'Sweet As'. When she finally got cold we hove-to and enjoyed the sun, wind and waves, as well as some fine Australian red and Cadbury chocolate. I felt decadent. Fay was soaked wet, very excited and didn't seem to realize the wet t-shirt effect.

When we sailed from Port Charles to Whangaparapara a few days back, I saw a big whale. You could tell it was big by the size of the blow, but it didn't show much so I have surmised that it was a fin whale. In addition I have surmised that it was the second largest whale I have seen, after the Blue Whale seen from the helicopter over the Cumberland Sound, Baffin Island, Arctic Ocean. Both whales were a little boring though, one seen from high, fleetingly, the other seen from above, fleetingly.

Today, Christmas Day in New Zealand, I am well found. Prism is gently at anchor in the beautiful Smokehouse Bay, the sun is shining, Santa Claus is visiting all the many yachts at anchor here. He brought Fay a chocolate bar and received some of the Canadian Club being served today. Fay has a stuffed pumpkin in the oven, it smells great and we are off to a pot luck Christmas lunch at the yacht from Wellington, just to the windward of Prism.

Departing Fiji at last

Island Prism is heading south from Fiji for New Zealand as of Oct 23 or 24. Jim will head towards the Minerva Reefs where he may have to wait for a weather window.

Traditional versus GPS navigation

Jim,
Please explain the following paragraph from the July 22, 2008 entry:

"There are lots of safe and deep passages through all the little islands, navigation is simple pilotage from good charts. Be careful of your electronic charts though, the charts were printed from surveys done in 1898 so the GPS and electronic charts do not line up exactly with the hard."

Some of us were confused by this paragraph. In the first sentence you refer to "good charts", but in the second sentence you say that the charts were printed from surveys done in 1898. Does "the charts were printed from surveys done in 1898" really mean "the electronic charts were derived from surveys done in 1898"?

Bill



Bill,
Clarification is due. The good charts are the paper charts based on surveys done in 1898. The headlands, heights of land, reefs, passes are all based on what those surveyors could determine, and they used primarily good visual references, e.g. mountain tops, headlands etc. You can very easily navigate through the Islands using compasses, and other visual clues, e.g. transits.

Todays charts are electronic and are based on Lat and Long as given by the GPS. In first world countries where so much commercial shipping uses autopilots, computers and GPS, the charts have been corrected to GPS Lat and Long.

In 1898 the chart surveyors used a sextant for lat and long and generally the lat is pretty accurate, it being derived simply from the sun every day at meridian passage (that is high noon). Longitude of course is less accurate in the sextant, it being heavily dependent on time, and time in 1898 being a bit more inaccurate than today. So the less commercially traveled areas of the third world have no reason to upgrade the charts to GPS Lat and Long standards, hence the 1898 survey is very accurate if used with traditional navigational tools and methods, but not corrected to todays GPS lat and long accuracy.

Here in Fiji, the Nadi Waters, or the part of the inland sea from the ocean passage to the port of Lautoka has been upgraded to GPS accuracy due to commercial shipping, but the waters past Lautoka are usually .3 NMile of longitude out of true.

Jimsh

An unfortunate series of events

Bill

I'm still in Fiji, the story follows:::::::::

well let me tell you what happened the other day, Monday morn to be exact. At around 0800 I was entering the channel to Lautoka and as I rounded the corner there was an oil tanker offloading oil at the main dock. It had two long cables out to the mooring bouys and it almost completely blocked the channel, except for a little bit on the edge. I was a bit confused, at first I thought I was on the wrong side of the channel marker and so I altered course a bit. But then I realized that there was room for me to pass, but I was now too far off the channel and the depth alarm went off. A second later, I was hard on the reef.

The tide was falling, so after a few minutes of reverse, then tugging with my 6 HP zodiac, then tugging with a village 40 HP boat, no luck, she was listing to port and the tide was going out. I gave the village guy $20 and got prepared to stay there until the tide re-floated her in the afternoon. Another village guy came out, he saw that I was preparing a cushion for Prism on the reef, when she laid down on her bilge, I didn't want any coral poking holes so I had a small tyre and lots of sinking ropes. He said he had bigger tyres, I asked for 2 and he brought them. I gave him $20 too. Those tyres saved my boat.

The tide went down, the seas were calm and so Prism just gently laid on the tyres. Later on the wind came up with a bit of a chop and so I put the main anchor out into the channel and then tied the spinnaker halyard to it. Then I pulled it in tight and the anchor pulled the mast down. This pulled the hull down onto the tyres even though the waves were lifting the hull up and down. As the hull was lifted up and down the tyres got jiggled a little bit and so by holding the mast over with the anchor, I was able to keep the hull planted on the tyres. Soon the tide was too high and the hull was lifting up and down on the tyres, so I released the anchor from the mast and the hull popped up a few inches and she was floating. I left the anchor rigged to the mast, though, because when it came time to float, if the tide wasn't quite as high as the tide I went on at, then I could lean the mast over on the anchor and reduce the draft of the boat.

Good idea, but bad timing. Shortly after that a ferry departed Lautoka and apparently it couldn't turn into the wind and get out of the harbour, so it dropped its anchor in the channel. Sure enough it drifted back on its anchor and sure enough it got turned around and sure enough it snagged my anchor on the way out. I had to cut the spinnaker halyard, and it screamed away. Then the anchor line came tight and it dragged Prism around on her keel. Then the anchor line started to make some cracking noises from inside Prism where it was attached, and so I cut that line too.

All the ground tackle was lost and it didn't come up onto the ferry. It was pretty straight forward after that, Prism got off on the high tide and I went to the anchorage and anchored in exhaustion. Next morning we dove for the anchor, no luck. Now I'm going to see the master of the ferry and see if he will re-imburse me anything for my lost anchor. Wish me luck.

Certainly no luck there, no sirree. And he didn't know where it dragged to, it never came up with his anchor. No he couldn't help with the cost of the divers. No no, don't know nothing, I pretty well expected that.

So we had another dive this afternoon, no luck, and one last dive is scheduled tomorrow at 8 AM. If nothing happens, well, another lesson learned at the cost of only money, nobody was hurt, nobody was injured. That's not too bad, just one anchor and rode lost in the crossing of the Pacific. I'll go to Australia and find an anchor and chain replacement, even better than the one I lost, and carry on.

This delay and the delay getting an anchor in Australia is going to make me way behind my schedule to get around the top of Australia and into Phuket. I can see myself spending the Austral summer in Australia and New Zealand. Perhaps I'm just tired right now and want to go somewhere I can cruise in comfort, like the Austral summer.



Yesterday first thing, I went to get my divers, but they had dove at night so they didn't want to dive again until 1 PM. So I dragged the pointy thing, or grapple, around searching for my anchor, I must have snagged about 22,000 plastic bags of mud, but no anchor. Then we dove at 1, two divers no luck.

I changed the fee schedule for my divers, now they will get $300 if they find it, but the $50 dives are over. One of my divers had a leaky second reg, he wasn't down very long. The other diver didn't find anything. So tomorrow they are going to dive for free, unless they find something. I might hang around until they give up the diving, dragging my grapple, hoping to catch that anchor.

After the diving, Tom invited me back to his house for Cava. so I accepted and had a great time talking to all the guys, no girls allowed at the cava. Talked to his grandpa, his friends, his brother, all went well. Apparently I am not the first yacht to strand on that reef. That's why I didn't get home till late. Tom's wife, Lucie, made me a very nice fish dinner to go, and I just finished that.

So it has been kind of neat, getting to know the people in the village of Bio, instead of sailing to Australia, as planned this week.

Anyways Bill, more will follow, I don't know when I'll get out of here.

Jim

Editor's note: the incident occurred at the SE corner of Bio Island, approximately 17d 36m 28s S by 177d 26m 08s E , pictured below:

Departing Fiji for Australia (or not)

Bill,

I'm a couple of days behind the departure date, I was stuck on a reef and had to wait for high tide, no damage except on very bottom of keel, and lost one anchor. Very tired today, after lots of work and gave up this afternoon on anchor search, so tomorrow is checkout.

I am leaving Fiji tomorrow, via Navula Pass and setting a course for Australia. I had planned to go to Mackay via Capricorn Channel, but the winds are not favourable for that course. So I probably will go to Cairns, via the north end of New Caledonia. I expect to be 21 days enroute. One soul on board.

Prism is in great shape, 100 gallons of water on board, 110 gallons of diesel, lots of food, two watermakers, EPIRB, flares, liferaft and VHF radio.

I have sent an Advance Notice of Arrival to the Australians and I have a valid Australian visa.

I might still be in New Zealand for Christmas, the delay in Fiji and the possible delay in getting a new anchor in Australia, might make it too late for hurricane season. Well, a damn good shopping at a cheap marine outlet in Australia is in order anyways, and who knows, maybe I'll find crew that wants to speed to Phuket.

Jimsh of Fiji.

More from Fiji

Bill,

I was out sailing around the islands here in Fiji, they are just spectacular. The waters are very treacherous though, the coral comes from way deep, straight up to a couple of feet below the surface. You can't see it when the sun is shining towards you, so you simply can't go towards the sun. The weather has been very mild though, but I could see that sailing around here is a very patient exercise, never leave yourself too far away from the anchorage in the afternoon, night sailing is firmly forbidden.

I had a great time in Musket cove, it's a real nice resort bay with 3 or 4 resorts around it. You can use the pool and get great burgers beside the pool. There is a neat little bar tucked into the palms near the dock, it has about 6 barbeque pits around the outside and free firewood. So everyone brings their own meat and salad, the bar provides dishes and tongs, and you buy the beer from the bar for $4 each. Some of the cheap Aussies bring their own booze in a plastic bag and that's about a cheap a night at the bar as you can get anywhere.

I met a New Zealand girl there, and she signed on as crew for 5 nights. We sailed north from Musket Cove to Wayasewa Island, took three nights up and 2 back. It was a a great adventure and lots of snorkelling, sailing, Kava parties ashore with the natives, and two nights part-taying with other yachties. I put her on the plane to New Zealand this afternoon, now I'm getting caught up on emails, shopping, getting fuel, getting water, getting ready to sign out of Fiji and set sail for MacKay Australia Monday or Tuesday. That should be a 18 day sail, so maybe I'll be there around the first week of Sept.

The winds have been very fickle for the past two days, here's hoping the trades build back in Monday for me. I doubt that I get any crew, nobody wants to go home just yet. However in Australia, there is every indication that I will get crew to help me go up the Great Barrier Reef to Cairns and then across the top to Darwin. I should have no trouble finding crew to get me to Phuket after that, and that should be the last few days of October.

Great idea to check out Rob and Carol's property up country, I would like to get there some day myself. When you are there, ask Carol to email me, I lost her address again, and that address at the college doesn't work.

No other news to report, Prism is doing well after the four days on the hard at Vuda Point Marina, cost a few bucks but she looks good underneath. Actually Prism is doing very well, she hasn't caused any real problems lately from anything. I'm looking forward to a great sail to Australia, I got all the paper charts all the way. I traded a cheap bottle of rum to an Aussie, and got three nice paper charts in return.

OK, send me some news of Mom, I don't get any news of Mom from anyone, not one of my siblings sends me a single sentence saying how our Mom is, do none of you care about dear old Mom, do none of you have a single scrap of information? Did you go to her birthday?

Your brother, jim

Fiji

Still working hard on Prism whilst it's out of the water on the hard, the bottom is almost finished, the prop shaft is back in, lots of good work got done, but long hard days of work,,,,and I'm not as accustomed to that as I used to be.

Tonga to Fiji

Just a short note to say that I have arrived safe and sound in Fiji and am expecting to be on my own computer on the internet later today so I'll send you what I have written on the voyage.

Another easy voyage, a large storm hit New Zealand and just gave me a day of headwinds, no real problem. thank goodness it stayed south and didn't come up north. the boat performed very well as did Marty my crew, now he has departed and I'm alone again.

I'm headed south to Vuda Point Marina, should get there after lunch and hope to get the boat hauled out of the water very soon thereafter.

Jimsh

Vava'u, Kingdom of Tonga

The Port of Refuge is the name of the harbour on the Island of Vava'u in the Kingdom of Tonga. On this very secure harbour is the town of Neiafu. This is the centre of the northern most islands of the Kingdom. This is where most of the yachts travelling across the south Pacific visit. At 18 degrees south latitude it is perfectly on the "coconut run" from the Panama Canal to Australia or New Zealand. The Moorings charter company has a large fleet of bareboats, mono and catamaran.

It's easy to see why the yachts congregate here. The many islands surrounding Vava'u are as lovely as the Gulf Islands, except covered in coconut trees. There are many beaches, anchorages, and coves like the Gulf Islands, as well as coral gardens, good fishing, humpback whales, and small villages scattered throughout. The Pacific swell generated by the Southeast Trades are spent on the outer reef so the cruising is done in millpond conditions. The sailing is excellent, the Southeast Trades blow across the archipelago, about 10 to 25 knots most days of the Austral Winter. The temperature is excellent; although the Tongans might call it cold, Canadians call it perfect. There are lots of safe and deep passages through all the little islands, navigation is simple pilotage from good charts. Be careful of your electronic charts though, the charts were printed from surveys done in 1898 so the GPS and electronic charts do not line up exactly with the hard.

Neiafu is a bustling little town, catering to the tourists here for the diving, whale watching, fishing, snorkelling and sailing. The Port of Refuge is deep with many mooring balls for rent at about $9 (US) a night. The Port of Refuge has great sailing within, the water is deep, there are no reefs or rocks to worry about, and the southeast trades blow over the low Island of Vava'u for perfect sailing conditions. You can sail away from your mooring buoy, close reach into the southern reaches of the Port of Refuge, tack, broad reach back to the centre of town, all within 20 minutes. Some days the wind requires a reef in the main and the small genoa, other days it's a full press of sail, rail in the water and a spinnaker downwind to impress the waterfront bars.

Every Friday afternoon the Vava'u Yacht Club, a clever invention of the owner of the Mermaid Bar, sponsors a friendly yacht race. Volunteer crews, skippers and their dedicated crew come down to the waterfront bar around 4 PM. Skippers are encouraged to "pick up" the volunteer crew, usually newbies who have never been on a sailboat before. The start line goes from the end of the dingy dock for the Mermaid Bar across the Port of Refuge. There are about 5 or 6 other waterfront bars clustered around the Mermaid Bar, so anyone who wants a tropical drink and fresh seafood while watching an exciting yacht race start is well served. The start is always exciting, as many as eight yachts from 17 feet to 55 feet all aiming for that one spot close to the windward end of the start line, and they all want to be in that one spot at the last second before the starting gun goes off. Let the race begin, some boats with crew well seasoned, yelling "Rail, Rail!! Starboard Tack, Starboard Tack!! Harden the sheets, Hard Hard!!!" and others crewed with excited tourists laughing "Is this boat gonna roll over???" "Watch out, yer gonna hit that other boat!!! Watch out, that boats gonna hit us!!!!". Round the mark down at the south of the bay and then the beam reach back to the waterfront bars for the second turn, which is the innermost moored yacht, the one closest to the waterfront bar waterfront tables. It's a brave skipper that moors his boat there on a Friday afternoon, as all the fleet races down onto the whites of the bar patrons eyes and the whites of the moored skippers eyes, gybes around his boat and off across the Port of Refuge. After another mark the race finishes with an upwind leg back to the finish, once again between the innermost moored yacht and the waterfront tables. The upwind leg is where the race is finished and often decided, the larger more modern yachts walking away from any traditional yachts, smaller yachts or yachts with older sails.

After the race all gather back at the Mermaid Bar to re-live the glory and excitement. The race committee has collected prizes from the local businesses. The biggest and newest yachts always come first across the line, but there is good competition in the 30 to 40 foot class. The race committee, being the owner of the Mermaid Bar, awards the best prizes to the skipper who has drawn the best customers. That is why it always pays to be nice and "pick up" the newbie tourists who will come back to the bar after the race, excited, showing off their pictures, demonstrating how far they had to lean, buying exotic tropical drinks and excellent Tongan seafood and the T-shirts, for themselves and their skipper and then staying to dance and sing into the wee Saturday morning hours. That's how I won the two tank dive from Dolphin Diving, the all-you-can-eat barbeque, and the 12 free beer from three Friday afternoon races.

One of the most secure anchorages in the Vava'u Group is Vakaeitu. I went down there one sunny afternoon, a 3 hour sail in great tradewinds all the way. You anchor in the bay formed by 3 islands, in 35 feet of clear water, in coral sand. Excellent holding. The anchorage has interesting hikes on the surrounding islands to beautiful sandy beaches, an abandoned resort, great snorkelling at a coral garden (so named because of the bonsai tree like coral) and a small village on the Island of Lape. I had tried fishing, without much luck, and so at the village I asked if there was anyone who would come on my boat and go fishing with me. A man named Alpha said he would come fishing with me.

Next week, with a full load of ice and bait, we left early in the morning. The fishing started great, we caught two small tuna. After the tuna we saw three humpback whales. Alpha was driving my boat by then so he steered over to the whales and we watched the 3 males breaching and playing on the surface. I had thought that I might swim with the whales, but watching the three guys roughhousing, I thought no. Alpha obviously had not read the whale watching guidelines and he got quite close to the whales. They left and we continued fishing. We were no longer in the Island group, but due south in a region full of reefs. There were no islands close by so eyeball navigation was impossible for me. The GPS was of some use but not really accurate. I set the depth sounder alarm at 100 feet and when it went off I said to Alpha, you are too close to some reef and so don't get so close that the alarm goes off again. OK he said, and thereafter, he steered around the reefs that I couldn't see.

We caught a nice mahi mahi on my rod, it was a lot of fun to bring in. What a spectacular fish, great colours. By then we had reached the southern fishing grounds and Alpha got to bottom fishing. He set down two hooks baited with small reef fish, and when that bait was gone, one of the small tuna was cut up. The bottom fish loved that tuna and he caught alot of fish. I was kept very busy cleaning and filleting. My icebox was small and I didn't want the room taken up with whole fish. I was also busy keeping Alpha in coffee with sweetened condensed milk, he liked that a lot. And fresh fried rockfish and tuna. Finally, around 10 PM, quite a few hours after dark, I said, Alpha the icebox is full, it won't take another fish. He caught one more, I'm pretty sure he was expecting me to clean it and squeeze it in, but I didn't, it had to sit outside and so he got the hint.

We lay ahull at 19 degrees south latitude on the GPS, with an east wind and a west setting current. We weren't alone out there, two other village boats were there as well. A village boat is not very big, just a 18 foot wooden boat with a bit of a cabin and a 25 horse outboard. On board are 2 men in the cockpit and a boy on the bow. Alpha drove my boat over to each village boat to talk with the guys aboard, I don't speak Tongan, but I heard Alpha bragging. I'm not sure if Alpha has ever seen a bar of soap, certainly during the day he was cutting bait, catching fish, rolling cigarettes, all without seeing soap. But at bedtime, he carefully washed the cockpit with seawater, and himself as well and prepared to turn in. I had a bed down below for him, but he took a small fender for a pillow and went to sleep in the cockpit. Every hour I got up to check the GPS, we stayed on 19 degrees south and drifted west just a little. Sometime in the night Alpha moved inside and was asleep on the galley floor by morning.

Around 5 AM, with it just getting light, I made sail and set off on a fine beam reach to the north. Alpha woke up and took over the helm. He actually could sail this boat, I was surprised. Not everyone can sail, and I'm not sure where he would have learned it, but he did a good job. He really like the fact that we were moving without spending a cent on gas, I didn't have the heart to tell him about the cost of sails, ropes, maintenance etc etc and etc. When we got back to his village, I kept my mahi mahi and Alpha gave me a nice big snapper for the boat. Alpha took a huge load of fish up to the village, I also gave him all my cans of corned beef and $40.00. He seemed happy and so was I. The next week he was in town for some reason and I took him to the tackle shop to buy hooks and swivels lost during the fishing and a fresh pouch of tobacco.

There is a local distillery in Neiafu. "Pirates Rum", "Pirates Whisky", "Pirates Navy Rum" start at $10.20 US if you bring you own 1 litre bottle, or $13.20 if you need a bottle, or $15.60 if you need a bottle with a "Pirates" label on it. Canadians being Canadians, myself and a couple from Whitehorse had to try it out and so we invested in three bottles complete with labels, ice and mix. The tasting began and the taste was quite acceptable. We did vision tests throughout the tasting to check for impending blindness, and the Whitehorse lady was even able to make hors-d'oeuvres. Then, in an instant, the full moon popped out from behind the trees and with the warm strong breeze, caused the mooring line to slip. Soon enough Island Prism was under full sail, in the full moon, starboard rail under, Whitehorsies howling at the moon and the Nanoosie singing MacLean and MacLean songs full volume. Island Prism wove her way through alot of expensive boats to blow her horn at the waterfront bars and find her mooring ball once again. It was quite clear in the morning that the greatest hazards to a successful circumnavigation might not be wind waves or reefs, but cheap booze in moonlit tropical bays.

A must visit on the tourist trail in Tonga is Mariners Cave. It is named after William Mariner, a young Englishman who was taken alive by Tongans who overran his ship in 1806. He was kept alive by royal prerogative and became friend to the King. He kept an account of his time amongst the Tongans, much like John Jewitt did when captive of Chief Macquinna. It's a fascinating read, full of war, cannibalism, palace intrigue and swift royal justice.

Mariners Cave is on the steep rocky shores of the Island of Nuapapu. The entrance to the cave is 3 feet below the surface of the sea at low tide. You snorkel down to the cave entrance, through the cave for 15 feet or so, and then pop up into the cavern. There are some rock ledges and the sunlight filters in through the blue water in the entrance, filling the cave with an electric blue light. The Pacific swell comes into the cave and pressurizes the air inside, this causes an eerie blue fog every 10 seconds or so. There is no anchorage nearby, you enter the water from your yacht and leave a pilot onboard awaiting your return. The guidebook says that if you can swim under your yacht, side to side, you will make through Mariners Cave.

As reported by William Mariner many years ago, it has a very romantic legend. The King of Vava'u was a tyrant and one of his chiefs thought of treason, but the chief was betrayed and sentenced to death by drowning at sea. The tyrant also sentenced the chief's family to the same fate. The chief's daughter was especially lovely and she had been reserved for marriage to a certain high ranking chief. On the night just before the sentence was to be executed, a lesser chief's son, who had loved her from childhood even though she was never going to be his, crept to her house under cover of darkness. He asked her to trust him to save her and she agreed. The lesser chief's son had just discovered this cave and that's where he took the princess and hid her away from her families fate. He brought her food and mats to sleep on and she hid there for many weeks. During those weeks he told her about his love for her and the princess returned his love on account of his brave and generous exertions, at the risk of his own life. During those weeks he gathered his servants up to secretly provision and crew a large canoe bound for Fiji. "Won't you need a Tongan wife for your visit to Fiji" to which he replied "I will pick one up on the way". Indeed, he ordered the canoe to stop at the cave entrance, still known to only him and his princess. He dove off the far side of the canoe and swam into the cave to bring his princess to his canoe. His servants thought he had brought a Goddess to the canoe, such was her beauty and the magic of her appearance, then they recognized her as the princess drowned at sea with her family, and they thought their chief was a God bringing back the dead from the sea. Finally the story was told and they set out for Fiji. After two years the tyrant died so the young chief returned with his loving wife and they lived long in peace and happiness.

The Pacific Crossing Guide Book insists that cruisers attend the Polynesian Churches for the experience. I first attended the church in Atuona, Marquises, French Polynesia. It was recommended after all, and I had just spent 25 days at sea alone. Lord, your sea is so large, and I am so small.

The singing was phenomenal. That's what the recommendation was for and it was phenomenal. The entire Catholic service was sung by the congregation, save the short sermon and short reading. The singing was in Polynesian and the sermon in French so I really couldn't take issue with the Catholics that day. It was like going to church and being in the middle of the great choir, the singing was loud and clear and excellent.

Since then, almost every church along the way has been the same, with wonderful singing almost continuous through the service. Here in Tonga, I've been going to the Catholic Church again, kneeling, sitting, standing with all the congregation as they sing the service. The men sing, the women sing, they sing together, the children sing as well, everyone sings, except me and the other foreigners, and the Church is filled with Polynesian song. Here the readings and sermon are in Polynesian, so once again, I can't really take issue with the Catholics.

Of course, many foreign cruisers say why must the Church be so rich in a land so poor? Personally I don't think the Catholic Church is so rich, it seems modest enough. What will the Church do to stop the Tongan alcohol abuse, the coming of MTV to the children? Large questions indeed. But at least for an hour on Sunday, everyone is well dressed, well behaved, (myself as well) singing their faith to God and Jesus, and the singing is phenomenal.

But a sailor sails and this boat has been sailing downwind towards Fiji since the waning moon rose at 3 AM Friday morning in the Port of Refuge. The routine of sailing downwind in the Trades comes easy as this boat sails herself on windvane and a full press of sail. There is a nasty low pressure storm south of here, but the weatherfax charts show the high pressure up here in the tropical latitudes. Sure enough the conditions are warm, sunny, 10 to 15 knots of wind from the SE, backing to the NNW as the sun sets on my second day at sea. In a couple of more days of sailing, I'll be in Fiji, the next tropical paradise on the "coconut run".

Check out the pictures from the Kingdom of Tonga

Bora Bora to Tonga

Bill

Here's a bit of a journal, not too much was written about the journey of 12 days and 3 hours covering 1284 GPS nautical miles. Generally the first 6 days were light winds and calms, generally in my favour and the last 6 days were heavy winds and waves, but also in my direction. I would have had a much better average mileage but for the 36 hours of calms at the beginning.

I have a favour to ask of you in the way of shopping. I need another underwater digital camera and I hope you can get one for me from London Drugs and send it to me. I have an excellent address here in Tonga and there is just a 15% tax on imported goods. I did a bit of internet research and found that London Drugs has a suitable underwater digital camera available and that is where I bought my Pentax, that I lost underwater. Another thing that you might be able to get for me is a floatation device that can keep my camera on the surface if I drop it, rather than on the bottom. Could you possibly, or perhaps your son could possibly, phone London Drugs and ask about underwater digital camera availability. I would like to spend about 300$ CDN. If one is suitable and available, perhaps you could mail it to me, I'll get that address for you not too long from now.

Here I am mid Pacific ocean, I got time on my hands. For the past 48 hours the sailing has been great, light winds from excellent directions, but today it looks like I got another be-calming on my hands. I was be-calmed off Bora Bora for part of a day and part of a night, this is part of a day be-calmed again for sure, maybe this will stretch into a full day of be-calm.

This is a particularly trying be-calming because the waves are still high and with two separate swell patterns. So Prism rocks and rolls in the waves like crazy. This causes the wind pressure to alternatively build and evacuate on the sides of the sail. This causes the sail to slam back and forth. So the main sail has to come down to stop that expensive flogging. I do leave the genoa up, so I am creeping towards Tonga at 3 knots.

It is a wonder to me, when the wind is blowing free (that is in the right direction at the right speed) I sing happy songs about being in Tonga in just 6 days. But when the wind is nought, I wonder if the wind will ever come back again. It's one of those mysteries of the emotions, feeling positive in positive times and negative in negative times. I read that liferaft survivors survive more when they can sail their raft, as opposed to those who are only able to drift. I will never know, I have a 406 Khz EPIRB with built in GPS, I will be rescued in a matter of hours. Unfortunately, I won't be able to write the huge survival at sea auto-biography, but I will suffer that inconvenience.

Then the next 6 days, I have to complete this email in Tonga because the winds came up:::::

what a wild ride the last 6 days were. Here in this part of the SouthWestern Pacific the weather is dominated by the South Pacific Convergence Zone, the SPCZ, which from my reading is somewhat analogous to the Eastern Pacific Doldrums. The SPCZ is heavily influenced by the various weather systems around, namely the permanent high pressure over central Australia and the monsoons in the Indian Ocean and the monsoons on the coast of China. It can be benign or very dangerous, and changes in an instant. The other weather phenomena here is that the intense low pressures from the Antarctic winter send their cold fronts up towards the equator and these cold fronts occlude, or get mixed with the warm front. Then this occluded front seems to stall around 20 degrees south and simply straightens out and covers many miles at 20 degrees.

When I left Bora Bora, I knew that there was a big, long front at 20 degrees south and I knew that the SPCZ was north of my track and for the first 6 days I had typical tradewinds for this time of year, light and variable but generally East. The last 6 days of the trip, the front and the SPCZ came together right on my path. The winds were from the South, excellent winds for me, and I took full advantage of them, laying down some big miles in great conditions. But the winds just kept strengthening. I knew I had some heavy weather in front of me and so I had to get busy and rig Prism for the winds to come. That's not too hard, I just have to re-install the inner forestay so that I can put up my small storm staysail on the front of the mast and put the storm trysail on its tracks. For light tropical tradewinds and coastal sailing, those two sails are below to make it easier to sail with the larger light wind sails. Not too long after that was done, the wind shifted around to the Southeast and came on strong. Apparently the strong frontal winds will combine with the SPCZ and shift into very strong tradewinds, and that's what happened. Before too long I was in 25 to 30 knots of breeze and the waves were building fast.

But with that small sail on the front of the mast, and the wind behind me, I had no real problems going where I wanted to go, and laying down some big miles as well. I did learn though that I can get Prism going too fast. When that happens a large wave will spin Prism slightly into the wind, the small sail will aerodynamically spin Prism into the wind as well, and the wave will pass beneath leaving the rudder and the Cap Horn steering rudder in air or foam. In sailing terms, this is a broach, in practical terms Prism suddenly rolls to leeward and yaws up into the wind.

The proper solution of course is to slow the boat down, and that was easy to do, so I did that and weathered the storm. What a great ship this Prism is, she handled all the wind and waves, and my learning curve, never took in a drop of ocean. That's my cure for all adrenaline rushes, pump the bilge, and she always comes up dry and I always thank the lord and my dad and settle down to ask, Now what did you learn from that, Jim?

So I'm here in Tonga, safe and sound, with a couple of little items of repair to do. I've found the drydock, it can handle Prism, the rates are very reasonable, so I will consider getting some repairs done here by the Tongan's. the bars are really friendly, and the place is just starting to fill up with tourists. I'm going to like it here, it's cheap and looks like a lot of fun. The whales have been sighted and so they have arrived with a lot more to come. the fishing looks great, I saw a lot of tuna about 2 hours back of the harbour on my way in. Tonga has a lot of Islands close together so the sailing is widely reported to be terrific, the tradewinds blow but the swell can't get past the outer reef to windward. It looks exactly like the gulf Islands, except covered in coconut trees. A lot of these little anchorages have a restaurant and a hotel catering to Kiwi's and Aussie's looking for cheap holidays in the tropics during the Austral Winter. It is my opinion right now, that you will be able to find me in Tonga for the next few months, maybe even until November 1 when an organized rally leaves Tonga on course New Zealand. this place seems more suited to me than french Polynesia which I found to be too French, too European, too expensive. to me a south Pacific paradise is cheap, warm, safe anchorages and friendly natives. It seems Tonga is that, as well as good fishing, swim with the humpback whales and cheap boat repairs.

I hope that you aren't getting too tired of getting emails from me, seeing that almost each email is a request for services. I'm only counting on the fact that you were amply rewarded in advance with all that gold that I left behind. If you still haven't found the gold, I did give your son very simple and explicit directions, and you should check with him because I'm sure he has it by now.

Yours Jimsh

Bora Bora

"The pearl of the Pacific", was the original quote as given by Captn James Cook. This is listed in the guide books as the most spectacular, the most lovely lagoons, the most expensive, the most hedonistic. There is a nice wide pass on the leeward side of the Island, the lagoon with the most is easy to get into.

Inside you have a choice of mooring and anchoring options. There is the standard middle of the lagoon, 80 to 100 feet of good holding. You need a lot of chain and rope for middle of the lagoon anchoring anywhere in French Polynesia, but sometimes it is your only choice. There are a number of mooring buoys in front of the Bora Bora Yacht Club. At the Club, free overnight mooring included with dinner and drinks. The mooring balls in front of Bloody Mary's Restaurant are the same price. Anchoring is also possible at some spots in the lagoon in 20 to 40 feet of sand.

The main village of Vaitape is at the end of the pass and has a cement quay available for docking or Med style mooring. But the local boats come and go constantly and there is no wake courtesy once you leave Victoria, BC. So you pound up onto the dock all the time.

I entered the pass and turned left up to the North. I wanted to go around the backside of Bora Bora to explore the lagoon on the windward side of Bora Bora, said to be a beautiful wonderful lagoon. The North end of the Bora Bora lagoon is challenging with a winding channel in sand and coral heads in very clear water. I was by myself and I had a hard time determining if it was a 12 foot sand bottom in crystal clear water or an 8 foot sand bottom. If it was 8 feet the coral heads might just be tall enough to hit me on the bottom.

Well the pass was not easy but I made it and continued down south in the windward lagoon. The Polynesians have their Bora Bora, but beyond a shadow of a doubt, all the nice sandy beaches are taken over by hotels, with the rooms being super deluxe "thatched huts" built on stilts over the beach and lagoon. I entered the last lagoon with the most notable beach by going about 12 feet too wide on the last navigational buoy, and slowly came to a stop in less than 5 feet 8 inches of water. It was a soft sandy bottom though, lucky for me, but full reverse wouldn't pull Prism back off. I didn't have long to plot and plan, one of the very common watertaxis came speeding up, close, with no wake courtesy. On the first wave Prism gave a bump but the next waves floated her free.

I anchored in that lagoon, very spectacular setting with open ocean, turquoise waters, and wall to wall stilt mounted thatched hut hotels. The loveliest beach in all of Bora Bora is reduced to a city lot that the Polynesians have claimed back. I went for a walk and saw a couple of restaurants, bars and some tourist gift shops (black pearls for newlyweds).

Next day I sailed the windward lagoon, it was great sailing, and what I was really doing was slowly going north to do that pass again. Well I finally got up the nerve and entered the pass and did really well until the last marker. Darn-nation I hit a coral head this time. Bump into a coral head in just 8 feet of sand. Darn-nation, I had about 5 such coral heads to give a good smack to before I was back in clear water, 8 feet of sand. Each bump filled me with horror, but each time Prism fell off or backed away until I had threaded through the coral heads. I was horrified and went over to the nearest anchorage, a 24 foot deep sand basin in a sand lagoon. I set the anchor and dove at once. But in tribute to my Dad and his selection of a strong design, Prism suffered only bottom paint damage, but in about 10 spots.

That night the wind came up strong from the Northwest, with rain and some lightning. Here in the Southern Hemisphere the winds are the exact reciprocal, so a Northwest front here is exactly the same as a Southeast front on Vancouver Island. There was also some distance from myself to the nearest land, an outer reef island so the fetch got some whitecaps up. But 24 feet, firm sand, no coral heads is great holding bottom so I just let out some more rope, wrapped the anchor line in leather to prevent chafe at the anchor roller, and Prism didn't drag a foot. At midnight the wind was backing and during the lull, I pulled in all the anchor rope and dropped the second anchor. Within minutes the wind was howling from the Southeast (equivalent on Vancouver Island is Northwest) and those winds blow very hard. Fine by me, I had little fetch in front of me and two big anchors in firm sand 24 feet below.

Back at the Bora Bora Yacht Club, things weren't so easy. One of the yachts anchored in 100 feet dragged anchor, had to be towed and rafted to a yacht at the Club mooring buoy. The two yachts overpowered the mooring chain shackle and soon they were both adrift, one with many meters of mooring buoy chain on the foredeck. Rumour has it that two mooring buoys off Bloody Mary's were also damaged.

A lot of the cruising yachts in Bora Bora right now are with the around the world rallies. For a handsome entry fee, the participant sails around the world in company of about 30 other handsome yachts. These rallies are for the rich and famous, and it would seem that a lot of the yachts are new, and the new rich owner is on a shake down cruise with others. Many boast professional crew, but others have crew that pay for the privilege. There are two rallies on right now, the ARC and the Bluewater Rally. About 30 yachts in each rally will descend on a given anchorage, en masse, sometimes overwhelming the facilities of the port. Such was the case in Bora Bora, the exit port of French Polynesia. In Bora Bora the facilities strained the most were the mooring buoys at the bars. Or selected coral heads growing too close and too shallow beside the channel.

But with the passage of the front brought the resumption of the trades and that's what I needed to depart French Polynesia for the Tonga Group. Just after noon I sailed out the pass for a couple of weeks of downwind tradewind sailing in the South Pacific. I consider myself a little bit wiser about coral heads and lagoons, but time will tell if that's the truth.

Tahiti

Bill,

All is going well here, tomorrow I pick up my parts from Laurent, I don't know how much he wants to charge me yet. thanks for sending those parts and my mail along to me. I had a great sail around the Island of Tahiti, I've got it pasted in here after this for you.

Katherine is off to the Space Cadets in Quebec, that girl will do well, she has a good brain on her shoulders. What if she becomes a famous astronautess and we all get called by CBC for the family interviews whilst she is spinning around the planet? I'm claiming most influential Uncle, you get the most influential and generous daddie.

I still haven't heard from my kid for almost a month now, I gotta get to the phone tomorrow and call the monster to make sure he remembers his most influential and generous daddie.

I'm just kind of idling here in Tahiti for the moment, waiting to see if some crew shows up that wants to jump ship. No such luck so far, but I'm getting better at meeting people on my travels. Shows to go ya, that a happy smile and chattering french-butcher can stop people for a minute on their busy way.

Here's the latest instalment of the Voyage of Island Prism::::::::: (PS Lorraine and Carol already got it direct)

I had a pleasant sail around Tahiti this past week. My engine parts have not arrived and that big colourful Genakker is in for repairs, so I really didn't have any need to hang around expensive Papeete. Tahiti is a great island, the reef is offshore and inside the reef the water is generally about 100 feet deep. I wouldn't describe it as a round lagoon, but a lagoon that is about half or one mile wide and all along the shore. There are many passes into the lagoon from the ocean, so you can enter a well marked deep channel and then travel in protected waters for many miles along the coast.

I left the Papeete harbour and sailed south down the coast to the Tahiti Yacht club. It was in a very protected anchorage and they have mooring balls set up for visitors, so I tied up to a mooring ball for free for one night. There was a big Carrefour, the french version of WalMart close by, so I stocked up and then spent the afternoon swimming in the crystal clear waters. Well, the dingie was not tied very well and it got loose and was blown downwind to the shore, so that was the real reason I had to go swimming. Later in the evening, I heard the Polynesian Drums, they are very exciting to hear. I went ashore and found the Polynesians doing their native dances in a well lit stadium. It seems that every village has a large dance troupe and in June they all go to the competition in downtown Papeete. The dance troupe meets once a week or so and they practice and so that is what I was watching. It's a pretty exciting dance, the drums are loud and very powerful, and they have about 10 drummers and the girls, in this troupe there was about 4 lines of 10 girls each line all dance that Polynesian dance of the shimming derrieres. It's not lewd or rude, but they are very feminine doing their dance. They wear sports bras and a short skirt open at one side but rather tight and low on their hips. The guys, about 5 lines of 4 guys, dance with them, but apart, and they really put a great effort into it as well. I took alot of movie of the dancing, and the one girl I found to film could really shake her derriere and looked very good doing it.

I wanted to go to the world famous Tahiti Yacht Club bar, but it was closed, so I just went back to Prism for an early night. Next day I was up and around midmorning the wind came up and I sailed south to another pass and stayed in an anchorage, nothing to note there. The next day was off to the next south pass and in there was a great little village and this was the anchorage where Captain Cook spent a lot of time. A big river flows out of the middle of Tahiti there and the bay is excellent holding sand in 30 feet of water, and the low land of the village lets the trade winds blow you off the beach, an excellent anchorage. I stayed there for two nights, it was the weekend and all the Polynesians came from town to camp on the grassy banks of the river.

The first night I went ashore and a family had set up a barbeque and for less than 4$ you could get a small batch of fries and a shiskebob of very tasty meat, so I sat there and ate three orders. They didn't sell beer so I had to walk to the village store and buy 6 cold beer, which I was allowed to drink with my food. Whilst I was eating the local guys had gathered right there to play Bolls. That’s kind of like lawn bowling on the gravel parking lot, they seemed to really get into it. Other guys gathered to play the ukuleles and guitars and sing, and they did a great job of that. There was one old guy, maybe 60 or so, he sang loud and clear and very well. There came to be about 15 guys singing and playing before the evening was over and I went home to the boat. I don't know where the women were, I missed them though.

Next day I figured I would just stay in the nice anchorage another day, it being Sunday and I wanted to go to church anyways. I got to the Catholic church at 8 AM, the mass was just starting. I've really enjoyed going to the churches here in Polynesia since they sing so lovely, it's like you are inside the choir, everybody sings the whole service and there isn't very much long boring praying or sermonizing. Except for this village and this Catholic Church, the priest was sermonizing in French, but you could tell that there was fire and damnation going on, and quite likely close by.

At 9 I left there and on the way back to the boat passed by the Protestant Church, which was just getting going, so I though, hey what's another hour, and this church sounded a bit more upbeat. Inside we were sitting in groups and each group had a choir leader, but the group up front had a real leader, she sang and waved arms and strode around to the other groups and pointed to non-singers (including me). Anyways this carried on for over almost an hour before the service began, and it did pay off since during the service the singing was very very good. There was even a hymn that I could join in with. And the sermon was easy enough that I could dooze off. Then the collection began and of course there was alot of singing, and each group had to go put their money on the table and there were lots of people quickly counting the collection of that group. My group went first and we were well praised in song for our total contribution, which I think was announced a few seconds after we had sat down. Next group went up and it wasn't as good for them, they didn't give as much as we did. They got a bit of singing, but the singing they got meant they had to get up and have another parade past the money table. By this time it was getting a bit of too much church for me, so I slipped out the back and got back to my boat.

I was thinking about another swim, the water there was very clear and warm, when two Polynesian ladies paddled up in kayaks to say hello. They invited me to join their family for lunch, so I did and had a great time talking and flirting with the one lady. she was about 21, 4 feet tall, and 275 pounds. No wonder either, they eat a lot of very fattening food, deep fried bread dough, starchy breadfruit and starchy other root vegetables and a lot of coconut, and wash it down with gallons of real Coke. I invited them for a sail on Prism, and the wind was blowing a good bit, but there were no waves in this big lagoon. I put a reef in the main before I even hoisted it and we flew across the lagoon, heeled right over and what a great sail. But the girls were sitting quietly, looking very seasick, so quickly back to anchor and get them back ashore with the zodiac. They packed up their camp and left for home and work on Monday morning.

I had a great talk with their man, Monsieur King. He works for ACE hardware and wanted to practice his english. The Polynesians don't really like the French very much, and I kind of don't blame them. So whenever I try my broken french on the Polynesians, they often reply in english and want to talk a lot. Whenever I try my broken french on a Frenchman, they make a big deal of my mispronunciations and then jabber away in fast Parisian French. I just look at them and say you have to speak slower and like I was a five year old. but they won't.

Next morning I was up at 4 AM and I left the anchorage and headed into the Southeast Trades. I had to sail around the bottom of Tahiti and it was a lee shore and had a nasty reef, that wasn't very well charted. So I gave a lot of sea room to the reef and had a great sail. That shore of Tahiti is deserted, no road can get across the mountains that dive straight into the lagoons, I would love to explore that shore if I had time and crew. I came up the SouthWest coast of Tahiti and back into civilization and into the pass and down the shoreline to a place called Teahupoo, but pronounced Chiapoo, like the poo that a Chia pet would do. It is a world famous place in the Surfing world. I got there and there was a really nice dock to tie up too, so I did and then went to the marina office to pay, and it was free. Seems the people who built it and the people who run it can't agree on a tariff, so it's free.

The surf comes from the waves that come up from the Southern Ocean and break onto the outer reef. It's crazy dangerous because if you don't get off the wave in time, it pounds you onto the coral reef. Only the crazy or best surfers surf it. If you surf it when the swell is coming from the Southeast, you are guaranteed to be stain on the coral, the swell has to be coming from the South or better yet the southwest. Anyways the day I was there it was a Southeast swell, so nobody was surfing and the place was deserted and very boring. Except that night the drums started up again and so it was off to the well lit sports complex and watched the dance practice. This troupe was better again, they had a "Masters" division of older ladies, and they could still shimmy and they had the rhythm down perfect. The dance leader lady would often stop the pretty young girls, dismiss them and bring on the masters to demonstrate the dance. The guys were also pretty bad and the dance leader lady watched in disgust and even dismissed a couple of guys, who then went off into a corner and did play fighting. She seemed to give the other guys a lecture but that didn't really help.

Next day I set sail with a strong following wind and made it all the way back to Papeete before dark. Now I'm here trying to find my engine parts, waiting to pick up my sail and looking for crew. No luck on any off that so far, but I've only been here one day.

I might go back down to Teahupoo later this week, there is a world champion surf competition scheduled and the waves are forecast to be good for it. There might be a lot of people there and it could be a lot of fun. If there is room at the free dock, I might even have a party on Prism.

The Polynesians are not like they used to be and like we imagine them. In Captain Cooks day, you could have a Tahitian girl for a nail, now Prism being fibreglass I thought ahead and brought a bag of nails. But nowadays they are much more proper, what with the missionaries, TV and all. They still look great, every Tahitian girl has long hair, doesn't wear a lot of clothes due to the heat, and many are tall and very slim. They don't seem to age very well, they get heavy. The guys can also look good, they do a lot of kayaking here and have very muscular upper bodies. But they don't age well either, they get heavy and everyone here smokes, everywhere all the time. So to think that you can sail to French Polynesia and have lots of fun with the local ladies for a bag of nails, not true. But they look good dancing and the guys can really pound mean drums. -----------------

And that's about that for another adventure, I am hoping that the weekend in Teahupoo is more exciting than before and I think it might be. Another adventure might be a return to the main harbour of Papeete, the dock is now free for the first night and so I might just wander up there for Friday night to see what might be taking place in the local waterfront divey bars. I don't think there will be another boatload of drunken Americans, but there are a lot of boats in now that the cruising season is getting into full swing here in Tahiti.

Jimsh

Tuamoto

Bill

Here's my journal for the last week or so.

I'm anchored out for free close to the Tania Marina, it's great here. Lots of people lots of surfing, I'm looking for anchor chain (I'm short about 100 feet or so), a surfboard, some provisions, some small parts, those parts you sent me. I might go up to Papeete tomorrow, Saturday and anchor there so as to be closer to the touristas and the possibility of inviting a very shapely one out for a sail.

Excellent news about Katherine working for the Canadian Space Agency, but does that mean that I won't be able to learn to parasail for free??? I hope that she gives up on this responsible route she seems to be on and gets back onto the "Daddy, can you set me up with a parasailing outfit in Whistler"???? Maybe if you won't I will set her up. Oh well, maybe some day she'll be an astronaut, probably pays more than crashing tourists into the cliffs of Whistler. Oh to be young and foolish and dream of dumb things like surfing in Tahiti.

OK, I'm off for the usual first day in port, laundry, shopping, hunt for parts, hunt for surfboard. Life is tough out here. I'm working on chapter two of the book, the one that goes after 'Mom and her new boyfriend'. also working on the screenplay for 'Slapshot 3', that's gonna make me a lot of money when it goes to bigscreen and DVD. without further ado:::

Have arrived safe and sound at the Tuamotus, specifically Anse Amyot on the atoll of Toau. This is more like the south Pacific we all think about. The Marquises were big huge volcanic mountains with big cliffs around the anchorages. The anchorages were open to either the South Pacific Southeast trade winds, or the swell generated by such. Anse Amyot is wide open to the sun and sky, there is nothing higher than the coconut tree. Nonetheless, if stood beneath, they are especially tall when shedding 15 pound coconuts. The one I saw shedding could have killed you with its height, if it hit you on the head.

At the last minute in Ua Pou, a french guy in a catamaran with a beautiful African wife, told me go to Anse Amyot, C'est superbe! Well OK, and for me the greatly added feature is the strong mooring buoys so no tense anchoring in coral, and all it is in a little bight in the coral reef, so there is no pass involved. Just approach by the open ocean, line up 2 navigation buoys (keep one exactly in front of the other one on the way in and you are right in the middle of the short channel, and then simply tye up to the mooring buoy.

In fact it wasn't that hard for me, the local proprietress of the local restaurant came out in her speedboat, with her mother and her sister and her sister's two kids and her friend and her two kids, and they guided me in and picked up the mooring buoy and handed it to me. It was très facile, and perfect for my first landing at the Dangerous Archipelago.

The Dangerous Archipelago, so named because of the many shipwrecks here. The currents are strong, we are at the receiving end of the currents generated by the 3000 uninterrupted miles of South East trades. The Islands are very low, you can't see them until you are very close, generally about 8 miles. The islands raise up from thousands of feet of ocean, in a vertical cliff of coral, so if you hear the waves splashing, you have about 200 feet to the rocks ahead and 2000 feet to the rocks below. In many places the reef is not visible, it is just a couple of feet below the surface. Not like the entrance to Bamfield, were you can come in by watching the shore. Or the depth sounder if the fog is in. Or the radar. In the olden days of sextant and compass, a lot of ships were wrecked.

Today though, I got both GPS's fired up and so I was able to sail 4 days from Ua Pou, beam reach across the south Pacific Southeast Tradewinds and come to an X on the chart (paper). I was a little early since the trades were very strong for me. I set up a beam reach about an hour out of Ua Pou and 4 days later I dis-engaged the wind vane and sailed to the X. I was a little early, it still being 3 AM on a very dark night, last day or two of this moon, and so I hove to on a double reefed main, no headsail, helm down to lee and had a short nap. At dawn I proceeded into the pass, well really it was 15 miles wide between two outer Islands, their names are Polynesian, I called them A Island and K Island. I only saw K Island, the other was never visible to me, but the radar did see it. but the GPS's were in agreement, and the wind blew unabated by the coconut trees 7 miles off, so I sailed down between the two islands, turned and ran downwind until I saw the North end of Toau, and then here into this aforementioned nook in the reef.

I came bearing lots of gifts. I gave Valantine, the proprietress, a dozen ripe avocados from the Marquises. They were great to eat, I ate at least one every day from the Marquises, but they are a bit rich for my system, though they are certainly painless as they seem to pass right through. Anyways, I had enough of them, and there was no need to save them since they were ripe. She gave me a tour of her village, Matarina, built on the shores of Anse Amyot. Her mother Violet lives right behind her, and her sister Leesa has the 'pension' next door. There is a radiopayphone, but as yet I can't get it to dial North America. The pension is empty but very nice, Leesa runs it with her two teenagers and two sub teenagers. The guys were sitting around drinking beer out of coolers from the village of Fakarava, but pronounced Fukarava. I said goodnight to the drinking and came home to bed. Later that night one of the guys from away came around to buy some whiskey, but I said no, I'm not selling any whiskey. I was selling fruit that I came from Marquises with.

Next morning I got up and went for a swim in the coral around Prism. I can see at once why the anchoring in coral is a very strictly an all chain event. That stuff is sharp and it is huge. Great round balls, 15 feet across and high grow out of the sandy bottom, I'm sure that chain will survive, but even then you would have to dive to retrieve chain wrapped around one of those. One of those, there are about a million of those. I tried to get down to my mooring ball's anchor, but couldn't dive that deep, I will try again tomorrow with more gusto. Prism looks great underwater, but getting some growth around the spots where the bottom paint wasn't very thick. The prop had a bit of a barnacle patch on it in the Marquises, I knocked that off then. I have two flat headed remores attached to the bottom of the keel, but they wouldn't stay on the same side as me, they kept going to the other side and I couldn't get a good photo.

I packed to two shopping bags of fruit one for Valantine and one for Leesa and went ashore, but neither were there. Leeza and all her family were on the boat headed back for Fakarava, Valantine was out tending her fish traps with her husband Gaston. I met Torowa, and he and I smoked a couple of cigarettes before going fishing. To go fishing, we tied a floating plastic box to the front of the dingy and we both snorkelled. Me towing the box and boat, him diving and spearing. As he speared, I brought the box to him, he threw in the fish and we kept fishing. I had my camera with me and took some great photos of him and then a shark came by and I started to get some great photos of the shark, I thought, but as it turned out the camera was gone blank. I turned it on and off, to reset, but when it reset it was gobbley gook on the screen and then it was dead. I personally think it was dead, it's always a bad sign when a digital underwater camera goes wonky underwater. But we will never know. Shortly some unknown time after that, the stupid thing slipped out of my velcroed back pocket and is now some where on the bottom of Anse Amyot.

In the end, I'm not sure why we took the dingy, because we only drove to the other side of the Anse Amyot, about 100 yards and swam back. We saw that shark again and Torowa threatened to shot it and it took right off. Not like the other stupid fish, that would slowly swim away as Torowa slowly overtook them, until he was a couple of feet back and he could easily shoot them in the back of the head. Into the bucket. Then a big parrot fish came into view, and it took a couple of dives before it got caught up with. First shot, just a flesh wound and now it became a bit more of a chase and the fish was a bit more spooked. It would have got away, but I played my part and swam ahead forcing it back to Dick for the coupe de gras. Torowa got alot of fish. The last were rather small but very tasty. They just tried to camouflage into the coral, but Torowa could see that. He simply put the spear to their heads and that fast he had 5 in 5 shots. And surprise we were right in front of his house, so onto his wharf, have a coffee and a smoke and clean fish. Torowa gave me the grunt job, I had to reverse scrape all the fish to get the coarse scales off. He did the final cleaning.

After that I went over to the other sailboat, Jean from Papeete and he gave me lots of good advise on how to get into the next port. I can't stay here for long, I have to get to a post Office to get a stamp for a visa. My month is about to run out, on 10 April, so I have to get a simple visa extension from the post office for another two months.

I returned to Chez Torowa and ate the fish. I must admit, I ate only the cooked fish, I left the poisson cru or raw cooked only in lemon juice fish for Torowa. I might have liked it, but Torowa's sanitation was near zero and I prefer my chances with cooked fish.

I also gave the fruit to Valantine as she did return with her husband Gaston, and since Leesa and family was gone, Valantine's mother got the other bag.

I met Gaston, he was an interesting fellow and I was invited to the Pentecostal service to start at 10 AM sunday, a much better time than the Marquisesian 8 AM. So far the Pentecostal crowd is easier to wake up to, than the Catholic crowd.

Next morning it was up at my convenience and off to the church, I landed at Torowa's dock at his waved in invitation, and he had two guys as guests and they were having an early morning smoke of marijuana, I quickly declined and off to church. the Church was very small, big enough for a dozen chairs and a kitchen table as the pulpit. We sang some hymns, I wasn't much help with any of the singing and then Valantine took the pulpit and commenced the Pentecostal sermon, in french rather than Polynesian, so I had a chance of following. It was good that the church was in the middle of the village because the sinners were easily pointed out, to her left and her right. Her brother Dick was smoking too many cigarettes, too much marijuana and selling the marijuana to the workers on the pearl farms. Off to her left her sister Leeza, four children and no husband. All was not well in the little village in paradise. She asked us each when we had seen the light and accepted Jesus into our hearts, I was a bit ambidextrous on this one, hoping that He would soon come to me etc etc etc. Her husband Gaston gave some good answers, but also a couple of wrong answers, and had to be corrected from the pulpit. We prayed for a lot of people, not Leeza nor Dick, and gave thanks for lots of stuff and sang some more and then after two hours, out of church and back to her restaurant for coffee and cake.

Gaston was called when some jackfish were seen from the front porch, and so he quietly slipped into the water and hid under his dock, until he speared a nice one. In a couple of minutes, a couple of feet away, he speared another, quite a large one, and that was the end of the days work. A bit of fish cleaning and I even got one piece and then I retired to my boat. I invited them out for a visit, and I kept part of the fish back from the frying pan and Valantine was asked to make poisson cru with the remainder, the raw fish cooked in lime juice, the limes from the Marquises and it was very good. We had some Canadian Club to go with it and an enjoyable visit all around, my french being sort of passable. Gaston was amused and in complete agreeance with my assessment of Torowa's sanitation, and Valantine gave Dick some more trouble. Leeza was spared a bit, she was a good pension manager it seems. Then, the small amount of Canadian Club in the bottle being exhausted, they travelled over to Jean's boat, later I joined them to take on some Glenlivet.

The storm that has been worrying me these past 3 days has intensified and thankfully seems to have travelled off to the south of us. I thought that it might come straight down the trades and develop into a late season hurricane, but it went southwest and looks to just send us a lot of swell but no wind. I am pretty afraid of these Dangerous Islands, the navigation is no problem with the accurate GPS, but the anchoring in coral with rope and chain remains as dangerous as it ever was. These lagoons are 15 or 10 miles across and the waves can build in those miles, and I am nervous of being shipwrecked like all the shipwrecks before me on the chart. They were shipwrecked when the wind switched and came down that long lagoon and then the short steep waves wore their anchors out of the sand, into the coral and they ended up on the shores of the lagoon.

I left Anse Amyot this morning with Jean in his boat Vanessa right behind, and sailed in a lovely North breeze to this small village of Apataki. The pass was very easy and at the end of the pass is a cement pier, and we are tied up, Prism behind Vanessa, and we can remain here until tomorrow at least. Tomorrow, I must go to the Post Office to get my visa extended to three months, on the 10th of April, my visa is expired. Apparently it is very easy to get the visa extended at the post Office, and that is why I am here in Apataki. So another night in the Dangerous Islands, tied safely to this dock, but tomorrow night it's either face the southern storms swell and off to Tahiti or return to Anse Amyot, or go upstream into the lagoon following Jean and face my coral anchoring fears.

Since it seems so lonely in Paradise and since it is a bit boring without a camera and since I'm nervous of the Dangerous Islands and since there are likely to be alot more little bits of Paradise in this huge south Pacific (the Friendly Islands are after Tahiti and they speak English), I am leaning towards Tahiti. Midnight is another weather check, see what the heck that intense Low pressure is doing south of us. If it's just swell to bother me on the way to Tahiti, I think I might just go to Tahiti.

Tuesday the 8th of April

After a noisy night at the cement pier of Apataki (the power house, the kids, their boombox and beer being right here), up early to the post office. Alas no, he couldn't extend my visa, but he directed me to the municipal office. There the gentleman patiently heard my request, but on seeing the stamps in my passport were from the Gendarmerie, he declined to issue any visa. He referred me to the Gendarerie in Rangiroa or Papeete. Well, enough discussed, I left at once and set course for Papeete. No charts of Rangiroa in the Dangerous Isles and no desire to visit anymore lonely paradise, I'm on course Papeete as I type and you read.

That little storm had me vexed for a couple of days and that was the real reason for my delay in the Tuamotus, as well as everyone saying how lovely they were, and I must really stop there. I, inexperienced in the ways of hurricanes, was concerned that the tight little low was in the forming grounds of late season hurricanes. I was worried that it would catch me and I would become a statistic of a late season hurricane, but no, it seems that I was worried for nought. The low did intensify and then it has charged off to the southwest, giving the Gambier Islands a damn good pasting.

The Tuamotus are lovely, the water is very clear, the fish are everywhere and brilliant colours. but I'm leaving them behind, and the small breeze is drifting me towards Papeete, wing on wing, at 3.5 knots on the GPS. At this rate, Papeete in about 3 or 4 days. Prism is behaving very well, just enough wind to keep the sails full in this south swell, steering by the Raymarine tiller pilot hooked up to the Cap Horn windvane water rudder. And now I live another day typing my message on my own computer instead of penning it on borrowed paper from the Wayward Home for Lost Seamen after a late season hurricane in the Dangerous Islands. Luck, good planning, or good worrying?

Editor's note: Anse Amyot is located at 15d 48m 08s S by 146d 09m 00s W, pictured below: