Micropost 2: Overheard on Passage

"It's starting to rain."
"The wind swung; time to jibe."
"We've got gusts to 32 knots, now."
"Wind changed again. Jibing."
"This swell is the pits."
"Wake up - we need to jibe."
"Probably sailing through that freighter anchorage in the middle of the night isn't a great idea. Let's jibe."
"Is it raining again?"
"Here come more gusts."
"Is the wind swinging again?"
"Time to jibe."
"Your seasickness meds aren't working very well this time, are they?"
"Jibing."

But we eventually reached the Whitsundays, where it never ever rains.

Anchoring up in Solla Sollew, on the banks of the beautiful River Wahoo, where they never have troubles. At least, very few.

Moving the Boat, Part 3: Midnight Encounters

It has been said that women let the memory of childbirth fade very quickly; if they didn't they would never have another baby. So too with this passage. Although I know very well the whole thing was a pain in the neck, a short month later and the sharp edges are fading. I'm still not in a hurry to do another passage any time soon, but the months will go by and soon I will only remember the good parts. By then it will be time to hop aboard once more.

So let's review the highlights before they fade completely, shall we?

Moving the boat, part 2: First attempt

Ahh, peaceful Baie Maa. A lovely little bay just north of Noumea, and a perfect place to stop when everything is going to hell around you. Soak in this lovely photo of the girls, because it took some major excitement to get to that point.

It was a misty moisty morning when we pulled out of Port Moselle for the last time. As we filled the diesel tanks at the nearby fuel dock, the winds howled louder and the rain came harder. I shielded the diesel inlet while Erik filled, trying desperately to avoid taking on a tankful of water, and we exchanged a grim look. It was a rotten day to depart. But what could we do? Normally we would never go anywhere in weather like that, but we had already checked out of the country and Erik was due back at work. All of the typical excuses. You have heard me say for years that sailing to a schedule is both foolish and dangerous. And here we were, ignoring our own rules and sailing under time pressure. 

Day 8, Passage to Noumea: The Challenges of Uphill Birthdays

I set my feet on the steep hill and try to hold on to six things at once. This is all a matter of timing. In goes the butter the sugar the chocolate four eggs mind the shells grab the post and keep the bowl from sliding away. Pause and rock. The salt the vanilla the flour stop the bowl from sliding the other way heaven help me when I need to open the oven.

When last I left you, we were becalmed in the middle of nowhere. After a day or so of bobbing around, the winds came back. And increased. And increased. The day it was blowing 16 knots was great – no seas, Papillon zipping along at 7-8 knots. Then the winds increased some more, and we spent more than 24 hours with sustained winds in the mid-to-high-twenties. All of which would have been fine, except for two things. One: it was all upwind. Two: it was Indy's birthday.

Day 5, Passage to Noumea: Slow Boat to Nowhere

 August 23, 2013 01:00 UTC
Somewhere along the way

Erik read my last post and made a face. "Why did you say where we are?"
I looked up from my book. "Why?"
"Because we are making lousy time."
"So?"
Erik gave me his patented incredulous, isn't-it-obvious look. I returned fire with my what-are-you-talking-about-you-crazy-person stare. (I won, because I have better eyebrows. Never underestimate the power of a shaggy brow in an adversarial situation.)

But I knew out what he was talking about. We are becalmed. And there is nothing worse for troop morale.

Day 2, Passage to Noumea: Meet the Nail Fairy

August 20, 2013 00:00
30 50.11 S, 173 28.07 E

Greetings from the open ocean! Papillon is two days and about 275 NM out of Opua, so this post is coming to you via the old-school magic of single sideband radio. Your correspondent gave into curiosity a few weeks ago and checked out marine satellite internet systems. After I picked myself up of the floor, my brain aching at the cost, I gave my trusty Pactor modem a friendly pat, and decided such luxuries as posting photos and checking failblog will have to wait until we return to port. As is often the case, low tech is happy tech on a boat.

Which Passage Were You On?

It is a banner day here on Papillon - we have completed our first passage since last January when the forestay parted and we made an unscheduled six-month stop in Whangarei.  This was only an overnight hop, but we were out at sea! and we got from there to here with barely a hiccup.

It has been a long time since I have been able to write to you, dear readers, about actual sailing stuff.  You have kindly put up with my posts about fixing the rigging, and living in the yard, and all of the cruising-related activities that have nothing to do with boat-on-water + wind = fun.  So now that we are back in motion, the natural thing would be for me to write about our passage.

But we didn't just have one passage, did we?  We had four.