Pictures from the reefs

We are finally back within range of an internet connection - the first one since Samoa that will allow us to post some pictures from Tonga and before. These pictures were provided by our friends on 'Gato Go' and date from Fakarava and on to a pic from 'Legacy' which was taken at the 'Coral Wonder' in Vava'u

Sharks at Fakarava South (photo courtesy Craig and Bruce of  'S/V Gato Go')

Sharks at Fakarava South (photo courtesy Craig and Bruce of  'S/V Gato Go')

I think this is called a pillow star - Photo courtesy of Rich off 'S/V Legacy'

Clam in coral - (photo courtesy Craig and Bruce of  'S/V Gato Go')

The 'Aquarium' at Fakarava South (photo courtesy Craig and Bruce of  'S/V Gato Go')

Giant Napoleon Wrasse (photo courtesy Craig and Bruce of  'S/V Gato Go')

Needle Fish (photo courtesy Craig and Bruce of  'S/V Gato Go')

Venus Rising - Day 15

I am on watch as we coast down to the entrance to the Bay of Islands. It is 0430, Venus is rising to port and the lighthouses wink at me to starboard. I think we timed it just right :) We should see the land clearly at sunrise.

We turned on the engine for 5 hours yesterday as the wind lay down completely and the sea became glossy calm. Ladybug had 43 miles to run but as Trish on "Gulf Harbour Radio" likes to put it, we could see the barn door. It seemed a shame after all those quiet days and the lovely sailing breeze we had enjoyed during the last few days.

Maybe God was listening to my thoughts because at 2130 a light WSW breeze began to rustle the mainsail. We switched off the engine and were soon tacking up towards the north cape. It was slow going with a knot or more of current against us but the seas were almost flat.

We sailed all night, using the radar and frequent visual scans of the horizon to avoid running into any fishing boats or cargo ships. The stars and partial moon were guiding our way. I could see the legendary Maori "sail of Tainui", the Southern Cross and the Magellan nebulae quite clearly. Despite the chilly temperature in the cockpit I sat out there for a long time enjoying this last night of our cruise.

At sunrise we were almost at the entrance to the Bay of Islands and Cape Wiwiki glowed like a welcome beacon. Lots of little birds were flying around, fishing and swimming close to Ladybug. A ketch flying its full set of sails was tacking up from Cape Brett and another sailboat was motor-sailing from the east. The spinner dolphins did not show up despite my messages.

Chris woke up to enjoy the scenery unfolding as another day was born. It was wonderful to see the grassy hillsides and trees standing to attention on top of one cliff. We could smell the sweetness of the land! We had arrived!

Sadly, the wind deserted us shortly thereafter. We enjoyed a hot tea, called NZ Maritime Radio to revise our ETA and motored the remaining 12 miles into Opua. There were dozens of boats ranging from jetskis to 50 footers fishing in the bay, so we had to weave our way carefully in the narrow parts of the channel.

As we approached the quarantine dock, a couple of women shouted and waved madly from the marina club house. They were our friends Anne from "Charisma" and Deb from "Buena Vista", calling "Welcome to New Zealand!". That cry was echoed many times as other people saw us go by. What a wonderful feeling! We had truly made it to New Zealand!

Made it to Opua

We have arrived and are anchored in the bay at Opua on the north island of New Zealand. More to follow...

Day 14 - Air planes and Dried Fruit

We are now about 70 miles out of the Bay of Islands, beating into a freshening SSE breeze with a bouncy heeled over motion that makes typing somewhat difficult. Yesterday we had a very pleasant day of easterly winds on our beam. The sun came out after more than 24 hours of cloudy drizzly conditions and our batteries are once more topped up. I can now see that solar energy is not a panacea if you live in this part of the world, although it has worked superbly during our cruises in Mexico and the tropics.

Yesterday we nearly jumped out of our skins when a New Zealand air force Orion zoomed by to get a close look at us. They were down to around one thousand feet - close enough to read our boat name! This is a 4 engined propeller plane, used for coastal surveillance and I would guess they were on fisheries patrol as well as on the look out for approaching yachts. They called us and another nearby yacht on VHF Channel 16 to check our ETA into Opua. You have to email a pre-check-in document to NZ customs 48 hours in advance and then check in via radio 24 hours out with your revised ETA. These guys take border protection seriously!

Apart from the excitement of our aerial visitor, we have been busy eating our fresh produce, dried fruit, and other items that will be confiscated in New Zealand. We are doing quite well, but Rani is still worried they will take away our lentils, beans, and rice - staples in her diet. If you know Rani, you will know how much she hates to waste anything! Because we will arrive early on Sunday morning and will probably not be inspected until Monday, we still have two days to eat 7 potatoes, 4 onions, 3 kilos of rice, a kilo of raisins, and 4 or 5 kilos of assorted legumes. Rani has been threatening to make a giant rice pudding, but our tiny fridge cannot hold much more.

It has been so calm on this passage that we have been able to watch a movie each day. The Coen brothers are becoming favorites on Ladybug - we have watched two of their films in the last few days - "Bad Santa" and "A Serious Man". I love their dark, intelligent humour, even if the profanity and violence can be a bit much.

Our position at 07:45 on Saturday Nov 24 was 34 14 S 175 07 E. We made 110 miles in the last 24 hours.

Day 13 - Things that Break

Yesterday was a day of drizzle and overcast skies. We made about 120 miles in easterly winds, with the main reefed to allow our wind vane to steer more easily.

Rani baked a parrot pie for supper - no she has not given up her vegetarianism - parrot pie is made with eggs, onions, and flour. This turns out sort of like a crustless quiche and always reminds us of our friends on Blue Moon who introduced us to this delicacy on a hike in Mexico. Yummy with Mexican salsa and the highlight of a drizzly, chilly day.

I thought I would mention a few things that we and other boats have had break down on us on this passage. Jimmy Cornell, in his cruising survey, does a more complete job of this, but maybe this will help people who are preparing for an ocean passage. There are two states that seem to cause the most damage to boats - calm or light winds in rolly seas, and heavy winds, particularly squalls. We have had more of the former on this passage, but the rolling around and slatting that a boat goes through out here can cause a surprising amount of damage.

Here is my list based on about 40 boats on passage:

Broken sail slugs and batten cars - These and the webbing that ties the sails to the slugs wear quickly as the sails slap back and forth. Even a few days of this can destroy hardware and chafe right through webbing. Suggest you bring spares. One boat was forced to motor when their batten car broke at the top the mainsail, while another had a repair kit on board and carried on sailing. We had one slug break. This was our fault because we have reefed our mainsail while running in the past, which wears through the plastic sail track slugs in short order due to side loads. We now round up to reef or un-reef and will replace our plastic slugs with metal ones in NZ.

Head sail clew ring - one boat had this pull right out, presumably in a squall 'though I did not hear the details. They admitted that the clew ring webbing was tired. Suggest you restitch or renew this area if in doubt.

Head sail UV strip failure - not sure if the boat that suffered this had this happen in a squall. Apparently the sail cloth under the UV canvas was damaged and failed as well, so it was not just stitching (which is usually the first thing to go).

Staysail and jib failures - did not hear the details, but a few boats reported damage to their fore-sails in the heavier winds that the earlier fleet experienced a few weeks ago.

Auto-pilot - at least one boat had a failure of their autopilot. Not repairable on passage.

Pactor modem - we rely on this for email communications and weather forecasts. Two boats reported failures and we relayed weather to one of these boats that was in the area of a cyclone.

Wind vane steering - We heard of three boats who had wind vane steering failures. Two were repairable on passage. Bring spares for your wind vane (Monitor provides a complete rebuild kit when you buy their wind vane).

Solar panels. One boat had a panel destroyed in heavy weather. They suggested that we lash our panels down before we get into bad conditions. They went through 50+ knots of wind and seas of more than 7 meters.

Engine transfer plate - I think I have this term correct. The bit that transfers power from the engine to the transmission failed. This meant that the boat could neither motor nor re-charge its batteries. Not sure how one could prevent this. Conditions were so benign that another boat actually towed the disabled boat for a couple of days until the wind filled in!

Engine impeller followed by muffler melt-down. An old impeller (3 years) came apart and the hot exhaust melted the plastic muffler before the engine overheat alarm went off. Replace old impellers before your trip..

Our position at 7:45 this morning was 32 42 S 176 10 E. We are sailing now under sunny skies in a light NE breeze and are 160 miles out of Opua.

Becalmed - Day 12

We beat all our other records yesterday by clocking 36 miles on the odometer but arriving only 4 miles west of our previous daily position! We hove to at 11am and then took the sails down altogether to save them from slatting in the 15-20 degree rolls. There was a brief discussion about motoring for a day but we decided against it for aesthetic and practical reasons.

One gets used to being tossed around after a while but occasionally it takes one by surprise. As it did to Chris when he went to tie the preventer on the boom. A sudden jerk and he was hanging with his legs dangling in the water! Luckily he still had the sturdy line in one hand and was able to grab the stanchion at the gate. I would not have been able to pull him up with my puny muscles and weak wrists. Thankfully, as the boat came down on the next swell he was able to pull himself up. Ladybug was sailing around 3.5 knots at that time, so it is a good thing he did not fall off completely. The only injury was a scrape on his shin on the way down. On the plus side it was a good excuse for a hot shower and a glass of brandy. It was also a reminder to keep the gate closed at all times (we keep them open as they interfere with the jib sheets).

The afternoon matinee on Ladybug was "A Serious Man" from the Coen brothers with their trademark black humour. I would give it 3 stars.

Gulf Harbour Radio's forecast for the next 3 days was for light wind conditions, so we did not worry about being caught out in anything nasty while bobbing about out here. We enjoyed a glorious sunset, undulating hills of molten gold under a spectrum of red, gold and blue streaks in the sky.

Our 0745 position this morning was 31 05 S 177 14 E.

Day 11 - No wind

We have sat around most of today after a few hours of sailing in the morning. Hope for wind in a few hours...

At 7:45 we were at 31 04 S 177 18 E after a daily run of 90 miles. Hope to be in Opua on Saturday or Sunday.

Love/Hate

I don't think we are alone on Ladybug in our love/hate relationship with passage-making. Rani has told me that she regards passages as a necessary evil. I think she stayed around for this one because she felt that with her on board to watch out for me, my chances of making it to NZ in one piece would greatly improve! She admits that sailing is not a first love for her and that she would rather be hiking on some mountain trail than be out here on the ocean. For her, cruising is a rather inconvenient way to get to very cool places. Sill, she obviously enjoys aspects of each passage - the days when the seas are calm and a gentle breeze ghosts Ladybug along under blue skies and puffy clouds - the nights chock full of bright new stars - the wildlife.

I love to sail, but these long passages are a test of my endurance. I swing between being enraptured by the whole thing and wanting to sell the boat as soon as we arrive in New Zealand. I love the challenge of making progress despite light airs and rolling seas, but only to a point. After two or three days of rolling around in the same part of the ocean, trapped in the middle of a high, I have found that you must re-focus away from the goal of arrival. The alternative is to fall into a foul mood. I think that most of us cope with this by carrying plenty of fuel and motoring when things start to reach this point. And everyone has a different threshold for this.

Having 'Melody' nearby on much of this passage has helped me remain focused on the passage itself. Holger is usually in a good mood when we chat about weather and progress and gently reminds me that we should appreciate the quiet days out here. While he, too, looks forward to getting to New Zealand, Holger clearly enjoys his time on passage. This makes a refreshing change from the majority opinion in the fleet, which, at this point, is that it is high time we were all in port.

Once you start focusing obsessively on making port, you lose much of the ability to enjoy the days and nights out here. You run the diesel all day, to make a few more miles, even when there is enough wind to sail. You refuse to deviate from the straight line course and fail to take advantage of a breeze that may want to waft you a little to the east. And so on...

Day 10 - From Peace to Violence

It began as another calm day, coasting along at a respectable 3.5-5 knots with full main and jib with light NE/ENE winds. Chris was in a writing mood and composed a melody to sing to Roz and Holger on 'Melody', teasing them about leaving us behind. Sadly, we lost sight of them over the horizon and then VHF contact as our paths diverged, Ladybug pointing a little west of south while they continued more to the east.

In the afternoon we began seeing squally looking clouds around us and ahead. We listened to the weather reports from boats south of us on the Pacific Drifters Net. A few had experienced rain but no significant wind under those clouds. Nevertheless, we put a reef in the main at sunset to be ready for change in wind.

Thunder and lightning greeted us at 9pm, so we unplugged our radios and placed the secondary GPS in the oven. I have a terrible fear of lightning and wanted to hide under a blanket when the sky lit up every few seconds. Rain began and wind increased to 15 knots from the northeast. The windvane was able to cope and we were speeding along at 6-7 knots on our rhumb line to Opua. An hour later, the wind built up to 25 knots and we were doing 7-8 knots. Chris furled in part of the jib and we surfed the building waves for a while until it was more comfortable to put a second reef in the main.

Radar showed us under an extensive squall front but it looked to overtake us in another half hour. Well, the clouds disappeared off the radar screen but the winds and seas continued to build. By 2.30am we had dropped the main and had only about 60 sq. ft. of jib giving us 7 knots and more in the gusts. The seas were 2 to 3 meters by this time and closely spaced, coming at us every 5 seconds. Occasionally their force over-powered the windvane, so Chris stood in the cockpit ready to lend a hand. He looked quite wild with the tiller between his legs!

The barometric pressure had fallen 6 mb in 4 hours - not a good sign. I was monitoring the weather station like a dog in the window hoping to see an upward swing but none came. All we could do was to ride it out and let Ladybug do her thing. It was impossible to sleep as I was paranoid about running into another vessel or getting struck by lightning. Visibility was zero outside so we monitored the radar frequently. We knew there were several yachts and possible commercial traffic between NZ and Fiji in our vicinity. I found the rain and sea scatter on the radar very confusing.

To give you an idea of the wind speeds, when we jibed, Ladybug continued to sail at 4-5 knots under bare poles!

Thankfully it was all over by 9.30am this morning and now we have very little wind and bouncy 2m seas. Our happy solution is to point southeast for now with a reefed main and full jib in 6-7 knots from the north, with following seas. The sky was blue for a while with wispy fast moving clouds at high altitude but we are approaching an area of low clouds again. Friends south of us reported light and variable conditions with flattish seas.

Our position at 0745 this morning was 29 53 S 176 51 E and we ran 133 nM in the previous 24 hours.

Day 9 - Sextants and Stars

One unusual feature of this placid passage has been our continued proximity to another boat. 'Melody', with Holger and Roz on board have been within sight for several days, as other boats motor past us. As I mentioned in an earlier post, these immensely experienced sailors enjoy longer passages (Holger sailed for 60 straight days from New Zealand to Victoria, BC this year). This gives them a different perspective from most of us and they have encouraged us to slow down and enjoy the mild conditions, rather than turning on the motor. Most of our friends are now more than 100 miles to the south, having overtaken us during the calms, but some have motored for 36 hours or more. However we have been enjoying the placid days and good conversations with our neighbors via VHF - exchanging recipes, comparing sun sights, and chatting about the stars that are new to us in the southern sky.

It has been frustrating at times, trying to keep the sails filled in 1-4 knots from behind us. There is a ridge of high pressure that often blocks the passage between the tropics and New Zealand. This area is, I believe, called the 'Horse Latitudes' (you can do a Google search to see the various theories why) and was famed in the days of sail, for it's light airs that would have stopped a large vessel in its tracks. However, the pay back comes when you cross over the ridge and slide down the south side towards the lower pressure that is currently sitting off New Zealand. We now have consistent NE winds and light seas under partly cloudy skies.

Rani took a noon site yesterday and was within a couple of miles of her latitude and 4 miles in her longitude - very respectable results for her first solo attempt at this. Holger's had similar results, but told us that his GPS was only 'off' by two miles when verified by his sextant.

At night we have watched 'Te Ra' O Tainui' rise in the northeast. This is a Maori constellation, which translates as 'The Sail of Tainui' - a sailing canoe that brought the Maori's ancestors to New Zealand from Hawaii. 'Matariki' or the Pleiades forms the raised prow, 'Te Kokota' (the Hyades) outlines a triangular sail, and 'Pewa A Tautoru' (Orion's belt) makes up the stern. Incidentally Orion's sword sticks upwards down here, rather than hanging from the belt and this constellation is known 'Te Manu Rore' or the Bird Snare, with the belt as a perch, the bright star, Rigel, as the fruit bait, and the Orion nebulae as the snare. This information was drawn from a little star-gazing booklet that our friend Marcelle on 'Adventure Bound' gave us, entitled "Naked Eye Wonders". Our own guide is limited to the Northern Hemisphere and no use down here.

It was so calm yesterday that we baked pizzas for lunch and the first loaf of bread of this passage. We have been careful with our oven use, but with only a week or so to go to New Zealand, we can now afford to be profligate.

Our position at 7:45 am was 27 51 S 177 24 E and we were making 4-5 knots dues south in about 7-9 knots of NNE breeze.

Day 8 - Songs and Spinnakers

It was another calm day yesterday, flying the spinnaker half the day and night with a light wind from the east northeast to northeast. We can count the number of times we have used the 'chute this year on one hand as normally the winds are either too light to counteract large swells or too much to handle the sail without risk of a knockdown. But here we have fairly calm seas, so we saved our mainsail and jib from flogging and UV damage by letting them have a holiday. Our speed varied from 2.5 to 3.5 knots with the added gust pushing us past 5 knots. Yes, very exhilarating! At 3.30am we packed it up and went to bed for a couple of hours while the wind played hide and seek.
During the mellow morning, Chris worked out his frustration by writing some sailing lyrics to the music from "The Boxer" by Simon and Garfunkel. He entertained our cruising friends later by singing it on the radio net at noon. Several well-meaning folks suggested he launch his career on "Youtube" and they would provide the backing vocals. Maybe he will make his new career debut in Opua!

Our friends' children on "Long Shot II" played "battleships" with their pals on "Water Music" while some adults sounded like they were having fun playing "Name That Tune", all via VHF. In the evening we learnt that "Long Shot II" were towing "Wondertime" who have engine problems. As I mentioned before, most of the boats on passage from Tonga to NZ are motoring to reach Opua before the next "low" front on Wednesday. Why have never heard of these "doldrums" north of New Zealand?

Our whopping 24 hour daily run for yesterday was 60 miles and our position at 0745 this morning was 26 45S 177 44E

Net Picking - Day 7

Yes, net picking not nit picking! In times past I am sure many would have had to deal with the latter. Try to find a copy of a documentary series called "Ring of Fire" in which the crew of the Bogeys in Indonesia sit around examining each other's heads. The series has some brilliant footage of sailing in the Celebes Sea by two documentary-making English brothers.

Getting back to Ladybug, we are still drifting along with the pumice at speeds varying from 0 to 3 Knots. The winds have been 0-5 Knots from SSE to SSW and we are doing our best to keep the sails happy. Last night we took them down altogether to sleep for five and half hours. Ladybug rolled gently in the slow one meter swells and drifted for a few miles. We peered out every 20 minutes or so to check if anyone else was around. Two other yachts were in the periphery of our horizon but none came close enough to worry about.

Under these mild conditions we have time on our hands, so we spend a lot of it listening to weather forecasters and chatting with our cruising buddies on the single sideband radio. We even have friends within VHF range to commiserate with while we are all stuck in the middle of the "high" for at least another 36 hours. Then we may have to wait for another "low" to pass over the top of New Zealand before we sail for Opua.

Some of the bigger yachts with bigger engines and more diesel have been motoring since yesterday to reach NZ before the "low" transpires next Wednesday. These boats can average 150 miles per day going full tilt with their longer waterline whereas we average nearer 100 miles.

Since we have little chance of beating the front, we are enjoying the summer weather - sunshine and blue skies, flat seas. Good conditions to do some baking. I made a batch of almond squares yesterday, a favourite recipe from my lovely sister-in-law, Jasvir, in Vancouver. No doubt we shall be waddling ashore when we reach Opua!

Our 0745 position this morning was 26 00 South 178 15 East. We made a whopping 69 miles' progress in the last 24 hours.

"Windigo" Update

We received an update on the yacht "Windigo" yesterday via friends on "Long Shot II" who are in touch with the RCCNZ. A vessel called "Follow Me" located "Windigo" at 24 49.3S 179 49.3E at 1522UTC on Nov 12. The yacht seems to have drifted in an easterly direction from its original position and will probably continue in that direction and then NE according to their drift models.

"Follow Me" got tangled with line from a search and rescue life raft that was also drifting nearby at 24 41S 179 59E. They punctured the raft to scuttle it but it is probably still afloat below the water surface and less visible. A second life raft has not yet been located.

Vessels approaching the area close to the above way points should pay attention, especially if motoring.

Day 6 - Fleeces and blankets

It may be the influence of the cold front that is giving us stable weather, but it is turning decidedly chilly on Ladybug. We put on trousers this morning for the first time and I am wearing a cardigan as I type this message in the pre-dawn glow. Rani is asleep on the settee berth, wrapped snugly in a blanket - another first as we have only recently needed sheets. New Zealand will be a shock to us after 6 months+ in tropical countries.

Yesterday we received good news - the weather looks very stable for the next week except for a low that will pass well south of us. We have also learned that there should be mainly easterly winds on our approach to New Zealand in place of the predominant southwest winds. This allows us to point straight for the island now, rather than running off to the west and should save a day or two on passage. However this could change with no notice...

Determining where to point Ladybug has been a challenge and we have tried to combine the computer generated forecast models with input from forecasters and the observations of boats that are out in front of us. To this, you need to figure in your boat speed, feasible direction, a comfort factor so you will not be bashing into big seas, etc. We have started using the route planning feature of OpenCPN along with its ability to overlay weather forecast data. This still requires manual manipulation but allows one to plot the boat's progress along an imaginary line and see what the winds should be like at each position. I would like to write a software program to help me figure this out, but do not have access to everything I need to do this on board.

We are still sailing through pumice - floating volcanic rock - and discovered some in our raw water strainer for the engine. 'Lisa Kay' who has been sailing in the fleet from Tonga lost their water pump impeller, perhaps due to ingesting pumice, but may also have been due to an old impeller. The water stopped running and the hot exhaust gases melted their muffler. They only noticed this when water was coming into the boat from holes melted in the exhaust system. Fortunately they were able to jury rig a repair and received help from several cruisers to repair the muffler when they made 'landfall' at Minerva Reef. The pumice comes from an eruption that occurred south of Raoul island in the nearby Kermedec islands. Apparently there is a floating island of the stuff 30 by 300 miles wide floating somewhere south of us.

The sailing yesterday was lovely - close reaching in light SE winds. Around dark, the wind died down to zephyrs and we ghosted along all night at 1-2 knots. Rani even hand steered around 3 am for an hour or so to keep us moving.

Our position at 7:45 am on Nov 16 was 25 28 S 179 10 E. We ran exactly 100 nautical miles in the last 24 hours, not bad considering we had almost no wind all night. The wind is back up to a few knots from the SSE, seas are calm, and we are making good progress directly toward the North Cape of New Zealand.

Day 5 - experiencing turbulence

If you have ever been in an airplane when it goes through a pocket of turbulence, then you have some idea of what it is like to sail on a small boat in a rough sea. To make things more interesting, the 'pocket' can last for days, there are no seat belts, and you must do complex tasks like type at a computer or cook a meal while being tossed around like rag dolls. The GPS records how fast the boat is traveling, keeping a record of the maximum speed. It currently reads 83.6 knots - a bit unlikely, but in the last minute I have watched our speed vary from 3 to more than 10 knots as we fall off one wave and run into another.

Yesterday was quite tranquil for much of the daylight hours. We observed a partial solar eclipse (the full effect being seen a few hundred miles south). We used the sextant with its viewing filters to safely view the earth's shadow as it obscured nearly 2/3rds of the sun. Our first albatross paid us a visit around this time - a giant bird that circled the boat a few times. In flight it was graceful - zooming towards us like a fighter plane. Bobbing in the water, however, it looked more like an overgrown and slightly gawky seagull.

The calms seas allowed for the first proper shower of the passage. Oh bliss! Plus it smells better now down below in the closed up confines of a boat at sea.

The tranquility ended around supper time when the southerly breeze freshened and swung gradually into the south/southeast. We have been bouncing along now for more than 12 hours, passing Minerva reef around 9 pm. We did not stop because entering the reef at night would be tricky and also because we have a fair wind for making progress toward New Zealand. We were close enough to see the lights on the masts of the little community of yachts nestled within the reef's protecting ring and we were sad we had to pass it by.

Our position at 7:45 am was 24 09 S 179 49 W: Heading about 220 at a speed of 5 to 6 knots in 12 knots of SSE breeze and 1.5 meter seas. We are sailing under 2-reefed main and partially furled jib. We sailed about 125 miles in the last 24 hours.

A Plastic Free Boat

I find myself thinking often about plastics and our impact, in general, on the world out here. The beaches of paradise are littered with plastics. Even remote Suwarrow would yield a few garbage bags full from the small beaches on the main island.

So is it possible to cruise without using plastics? It would certainly reduce our dependence on fossil fuels to do so, but without a huge effort, I think it is not feasible. Too many things we take for granted are made from plastic.

Starting with the boat, we would have to build one from some other material other than fiberglass, which is plastic resin reinforced by glass fibers. Our running rigging would have to be replaced with wood or metal blocks and lines made from natural materials such as hemp or sisal. We would forego electricity on board, because wires and connectors use plastic for insulation and almost all electrical devices are made at least in part from plastic, valuable for its insulating qualities. Reverting to cloth covered wire and wooden/metal appliances might be possible, but the results would be unlikely to hold up in a wet, salty environment. Without electricity, we lose our depth sounder, GPS, and lighting. The latter would need to be done entirely with kerosene and would require lanterns for the running lights (two or three), anchor light, and interior lights. We would have no engine, since the pipes that feed water and the many of gaskets that seal it are made of plastics. Plumbing would also have to be re-done with metal pipes only, sealed with lead or oakum joints. We would have to look long and hard to find a metal compass to navigate by and an all metal sextant for off-shore work. Our chronometer would also need to be all-metal and glass - hand wound. I suspect a 'simple' non-plastic boat would cost more to build and be a pain to maintain.

Re-provisioning would be possible, but difficult, without plastic, since most processed 'foods' are packaged in plastic. We would bring cloth bags to the local market and have to be very choosy as to what we bought in the grocery store. Perhaps this is where we can have the most impact - by buying fewer plastic containers, especially out here in places like Tonga, where most plastic is simply thrown on the ground, burned, or dumped in the ocean.

Day 4 - purring engine

Yesterday saw us making quite good progress from the early morning on. We had sailed under the edge of a bank of low grey clouds, hoping to take advantage of some winds after a too calm night. This proved to be a good move, for while our friends 20 miles away were motoring, we sailed all day in breezes up to 10 knots. The seas were down and the wind only a little behind the beam. Eventually as the wind died down, we unfurled all sail and were still making 4 knots when we noticed around sunset that we would soon sail out from the edge of the front and into clear skies.

As I guessed, this meant the end of our wind, and after sailing southeast (90 degrees from our desired course) for a few hours, we finally lost any semblance of forward movement. There was still enough swell to make taking down all sails and waiting it out an unpleasant prospect, so we started our diesel for the first time on this passage. She has been purring away at 1300 rpm, pushing us at 3.5 to 4 knots for several hours now, while we doze below with ear plugs in to drown out the unaccustomed din.

We had our first movie on passage - a late afternoon matinee, watched while we still had a reliable breeze. The feature presentation was "The Best Years of Our Lives" - a nearly 3 hour long movie about servicemen returning to their US hometown after World War II. This An excellent film with thoughtful dialogue and very good acting. It deals with the difficulties soldiers, sailors, and civilians experienced adjusting to a changed life after the prolonged upheaval of war. Many of the truths the movie explores are still relevant today. I guess this is what makes a classic.

We saw one boat last night, which motored past us maybe 4 miles off as we sailed sluggishly to the southeast. Also, our friends on 'Melody' suffered a broken paddle shaft on their Aries windvane self-steering gear. We checked our Monitor windvane parts, but determined that our shaft replacement piece would not fit their gear, despite the American Monitor being a copy of the British Aries. Holge on Melody believes he can sleeve the shaft with a slightly modified winch handle, but will need to stop in Minerva to make the repair.

We have been sailing through fields of pumice, the detritus of an underwater volcanic explosion that occurred nearby. Apparently the pumice reaches all the way down to New Zealand,. So far, it has not affected our water cooled engine.

At 7:45 we were located at 23 11 S 177 56 W - Te sails are up in 1-2 knots of SW wind and were making 1-2 knots in relatively smooth seas.

Chasing squalls!

It is Day 3 and we are wishing for a little bit of that wind from Day 1. Yesterday was beautiful with the 10-15 ESE, blue skies and sunshine, but just after supper we were shaking the second reef out of the mainsail as wind speed dropped to less than 10 Knots. After midnight, we were being thrown around by 2m swells from south and east and the sails were slatting in less than 5 knots from the east. Neither the windvane nor the tiller pilot were able to hold the SW course to Minerva Reef, so we turned south and then southeast to keep going. Other boats close to us reported that they had either taken the sails down and or switched on the motor at around the same time.

This morning we were excited to see a line of squalls south of us. Wow!Wind! We deliberately changed our course to get some of that wind. And maybe we could get a boat wash at the same time! As we approached the biggest and blackest patch we put a second reef in the main. "Hurrah, we are up to 6 knots plus again!", we sang over the radio net. That elation was short lived. Another hour later we were shaking out the reef again. These squalls seem to be light and static, hardly moving at all, but we are still chasing them to keep moving, even if it is in the wrong direction and at only 4 Knots.

According to the weather sources we will be in zero to light winds for the next two days. This means we may stop at Minerva Reef for a day if we get there in a day or two. But nothing is for certain. At times like this I wish I were on a fast boat like Segue, a large Canadian catamaran which set off later than us from Vava'u but anticipate being in Opua by Friday. They made 224 miles in 24 hours on Day 1!

Our position this morning at 0745 was 21 59 S 176 51 W. We ran 131 miles in 24 hours but probably only 100 in the right direction.

Position update Day 2

It's Remembrance Day at home - a day later out here and we are enjoying much more peaceful conditions than yesterday - winds 10-15 ESE and seas down below 2 meters. Still bumpy but much less water on deck. Position at 7:45 was S 20 17 W 175 47 - we made 148 nautical miles in the first 24 hours from our anchorage in Vava'u - an average of over 6 knots.

In retrospect, we should have sailed a bit further west to make things a bit less violent on board. Making tea in 3 meter seas and 25 knots is a potentially painful experience. Today we were able to cook and eat porridge with only a slight boil-over.

First night en route to NZ

We departed about 15 hours ago from Tonga bound for New Zealand amidst a fleet of fellow cruisers. The seas were still rough - left over from the low that passed a few days ago to the south and a new chop produced by 20+ knot winds. We have been close reaching with water washing over the decks and coach roof and finding its way inside through hatches and portlights that no longer seal entirely when submerged in green water.

There has been much chatter on the VHF and sharing of weather data on SSB. A few of the boats have signed up for custom weather routing and are generously sharing this with the fleet. I wrote a small program to covert some of these data to a route that can be displayed on OpenCPN - my small contribution to all this.

Position at 11:15 PM local time 19 38 S 175 09 W - - somewhere off two volcanic islands in the Ha'apai group of Tonga.

Will try to do daily updates. The passage should take less than two weeks and we may break it up with a stop at Minerva reef.

Rotis and Routes

On this eve of our departure to New Zealand, we ran through our 14 point "to do" list in a very tranquil anchorage. Most importantly we inspected the standing and running rigging, fixed the leaking portlight which dripped saltwater over the settee during our last passage and re-enforced the lines which hold the solar panels and wind-vane steering in place.

We also held a pre-passage meeting yesterday with other yachtie friends who are leaving from Vava'u to discuss the weather and route strategy. Everyone is keen to leave as soon as possible and while a few were ready to depart today, most of us had to re-provision and will depart tomorrow or Monday. The forecast looks good with moderate winds and seas for up to one week. Of course, the wind is a fickle friend and depending on the dance between the highs and lows of barometric pressure, it may become overly enthusiastic or desert us altogether. The main thing is to keep abreast of the meteorological reports spanning more than a thousand miles. Over the next two weeks, we shall be staying in touch with David from Gulf Harbour Radio, NZ, and downloading grib files (computer generated wind and sea states) and some friends are receiving personal weather routing.

I had the enviable task of galley duty, preparing some simple meals to eat during the next couple of days while the swells may not be conducive to culinary creations. As a result we have a large container of hummous, fourteen plain rotis, a saucepan of lentil, chaco and carrot stew, and some cut mangoes, papaya and pineapple for dessert. There was not enough to bake the almond cookies, so hopefully there will be quiet days at sea to do so.

On a positive note, the people on Windigo, the boat we reported as being rolled a few days ago during the deep low, have been rescued and are on their way to New Zealand. The boat was abandoned and is apparently still floating, so we will be on the look out for it on our passage through that area.

Anyway - we are ready! So wish us good luck and we will be on our way after breakfast tomorrow. We will try to post a daily position report and check into the Pacific Drifters Net on SSB 8131 USB at 0715 and 1730 local NZ time.

Update to post regarding Windigo

We received more details on the rescue effort regarding Windigo. The vessel was not abandoned as had been reported this morning. She was rolled and suffered some damage and is taking on water through leaking hatches. The crew is still on board and two large vessels were en route to the scene as of noon today.

First cyclone of the season?

We have been watching the barometer rise and the winds rotate into the west as a deep low has passed south of us. While we have not heard it called a cyclone yet, I think it could be classified as one. Some boats on its less violent northern side reported gusts of 74 knots. Our friends Bruce and Marcelle on 'Adventure Bound' reported 10 meter seas and winds in excess of 55 knots yesterday and this morning. They sounded very unhappy to be where they were, which today is the area with the highest forecast seas (at 7 meters) south of the center of the depression. Yesterday we heard they were hove to, but today they are making their way slowly (at 2 knots) north in response to a request from New Zealand emergency response.

As far as we can understand from sketchy reports, a 39 foot Beneteau named 'Windigo' was rolled over in heavy seas 30 nautical miles to the north of 'Adventure Bound'. They set off their EPIRB and took to the life raft. A New Zealand Orion rescue plane has been standing by and 'Adventure Bound' has been asked to head towards the life raft and take the passengers on board. Chris tells me that for a boat as large as Windigo to roll completely over requires a breaking sea of about 8 feet - that would be on top of the non-breaking part of the swell. I do not know for sure if the vessel was completely rolled. Perhaps she may have suffered a knock down that filled her through open hatches.

The rest of the fleet en route to New Zealand are all experiencing rough weather (winds 30-40 knots) and high seas from 3-5 meters. On the Pacific Drifters Net this morning several sailboats reported less severe damage, for example a broken boom vang and leaky portlights. Believe me when I say that I am not looking forward to this passage at all! I volunteered to winch Chris up the mast to inspect the rigging before we set off.

Closer to here, about 130 miles south of Tongatapu, an unregistered EPIRB was set off. Because it was not registered, we have no details of which vessel set it off. Also, just south of us in the Vava'u Group there is a sailing boat on a reef. The Tongan police are trying to rescue the vessel, but its crew is not in danger.

Finally, our friends on 'Kindred Spirit' had their mooring in Neiafu part company last night around dusk but were able to react quickly enough to save their boat. I am glad we did not take them up on their kind offer to raft up with them! We are anchored off a somewhat surfy beach with about a 2 mile fetch to the west, from which the wind is now blowing. I had some concerns about our anchor chain being wrapped around coral and spent an uneasy night wondering if it would be sawn cut but Chris reassured me that there are small rocks not coral close to the anchor. Being a worrier, I still kept a close eye on our GPS position, ready to hop out to start the engine if the anchor drag alarm sounded.

The front is moving quickly away now and we anticipate better conditions later this evening as the wind swings behind a nearby island and the fetch subsides.

Our thoughts and prayers are with the people out on the open ocean today, in particular the folks off 'Windigo' and Bruce and Marcelle on 'Adventure Bound'.

Highs and Lows

At least it is not the first cyclone of the season, but there is a deepening low passing through Tonga today that has had the cruising community worried for days. With our SSB long range radio, we have been able to download weather forecasts and listen to radio nets discussing what is coming. This is so different from the trip I made a few years ago to take our smaller boat back to Canada when we had a poorly functioning radio receiver and less knowledge about receiving weather information in this way. At that time, I could only look at the barometer and the sky and try to work things out from that and a few rudimentary rules of thumb.

This low will pass south of us with the winds rotating anti-clockwise from east to west as it passes. We sailed about 90 miles north yesterday, returning to Vava'u from the Ha'apai Group. Here the winds should be lighter and the protection is much better, especially in westerly winds. It was rough sailing once we were clear of the low islands of Ha'apai. With large and closely spaced swells just ahead of the beam, the decks were awash with water for many hours. We noticed two leaks on the starboard side - one we knew of already and another around a portlight frame. Winds were about 20 knots from the east and we averaged a respectable but bouncy 6 knots close reaching under 2-reefed main and partially furled jib.

Our arrival in Vava'u well after dark was made possible by the fact we had been here before, and had sailed through most of the channels we followed into this maze of islands. Also, we had newly surveyed charts, with land masses and reefs in roughly the right places. Still, we ran the charting program and radar and kept a close eye on the depth sounder as we made our way through more than 10 miles of passes and channels. We anchored around 11pm just off Nuku Island, the only boat in the area. Most other boats that returned to Vava'u are in Neiafu where they are tied securely to moorings, but there were none left by the time we neared the islands.

This morning we re-anchored Ladybug in a better position for the winds expected and in deeper water off the beach. I snorkeled around carrying a leadline with float attached to mark the spot. The anchor looks well set with a large fishing float holding the chain above some coral bommies nearby.

There is a great deal of camaraderie in the cruising community and we received helpful emails from our friends Don and Deb on 'Buena Vista' as well as assistance via VHF as we approached from Brad on 'Kindred Spirit' and Mike on 'Picara'. When you are beating your way through rough weather towards a safe haven, it is a great comfort to hear a friendly voice!

Grahame Shannon's Walker Bay

Grahame Shannon designed both Ladybug II and was one of the designers of the Walker Bay dinghy. Walker Bays are manufactured in the thousands by a company out of Washington state in the US. Mr. Shannon's website states that the Walker Bay is the most popular dinghy in the world. There is an 8' 3" model (the Walker Bay 8) and a 9' 9" model (the Walker Bay 10). We bought our Walker Bay 8 in Mexico, second-hand and in well-used condition, but with a nice sailing rig and upgraded oarlocks. We named her 'Little Annie' as a tribute to the lovely lady who runs Yoga classes in La Paz and who sold her to us.

The Walker Bay 8 is a good fit for Ladybug. At just over 8 feet, she fits nicely on deck with her bow tucked between the windlass and the starboard rail and her stern resting on the coach roof just forward of the two large hatches. She covers the V-berth hatch, but this can still be opened for ventilation in very light seas. 'Little Annie' is the same cream colour as our hull.

The Walker Bay 8 rows very well with one person, but has been criticized for her ability to row with two. This stems, I believe, from a problem in balancing her out with a passenger sitting in the obvious place - the transom. Unless the passenger is a child, the transom submerges and the extra drag from this makes the dinghy very sluggish under oars. There are three solutions to this on our slightly modified boat. Rani and I share the center thwart, back to back, with me rowing facing aft. This works well if the forward passenger is lighter than the rower - otherwise the boat is a bit down by the bow and may be more difficult to keep tracking straight. The transom does not dip in either case.

The second solution is for the passenger to sit on the forward or center thwart, depending on how heavy they are relative to the rower and for the rower to row facing forward. Some people find this position awkward because you must push instead of pull, but it is good exercise and allows you to see where you are going. It does not work well in higher winds because you cannot put your back into it - maybe I am just a weakling!

Finally, you can install a second set of oarlock sockets further forward, between the main thwart and mast partner, as we have on 'Little Annie'. This allows the rower to sit on the mast partner and the passenger on the aft thwart. The rower must row cross oared as the beam is much narrower this far forward.

A word on oars. 'Little Annie' came 5 foot long aluminum dinghy oars, which are much too short to work well on a boat with more than 4 foot of beam. The standard (I believe, 6 foot) oars are ok, but adding an extra foot gives you a lot more power. We added closet poles to our aluminum oars, which fit perfectly inside the aluminum handles and give us 6'6" oars.

Some negatives - 'Little Annie' is much less stable than an inflatable. Friends who are used to their rubber dinghy admired our walker Bay, but found it too tippy to be practical. Inflatables are also better for carrying dive gear and getting back into from the water. That being said, we snorkel from the Walker Bay and get in and out no problem, but I weigh only 150 lbs and Rani about 100. The plastic that the dinghy is made from is soft and flexes a lot when sailing into a breeze. She also flexes a lot when used with even a small outboard motor (so I am told). Finally, she is tricky to repair. Plastic welding - at least the way I do it - does not yield a strong repair. I have had to back up my welding with riveted patches of aluminum sheet.

Some pluses - rows well with one or two people, so long as you keep her transom out of the water. She glides along far better than our previous hard dinghy. She carries enough load for two (lightish) people out cruising. Despite flexing a little too much for comfort, she is a good little sailor with our 40 sq foot Bermudan rig. This allows us to travel far greater distances than by oars alone - no motor required. I like the simplicity of this approach and it is also great recreation in a sheltered bay with a nice breeze blowing. Her soft polypropylene does not mar our topsides or decks and hence require no deck chocks or padding of the gunwales.

Thank you to Mister Shannon for an excellent small dinghy.

Why They Do It

This is a follow-up to my last post - a reply via email from our friend Kurt, which I hope he does not mind me publishing. Kurt made the passage form Hawaii to the US in a very small boat back when that was a not particularly common thing to do...

...I liked your post about why folks do it now. When Jack London had the Snark built (apparently a pretty lame designed wooden schooner) and announced that he was going to sail it to Hawaii, locals in Oakland took out a betting pool on whether or not he would survive and how far he would get. This illustrates an important point - the psychology of the thing. Of course it's MUCH safer to do that same run today than it was in 1904, or whenever that was, but it's still the same ocean. The big difference is that in our mind's eye the distances have shrunk dramatically. Instant communications and jet travel are part of that, but bigger still is the very real likelihood that we all know that a run to Hawaii is not a big deal, and perhaps know others who have done it. Hawaii used to be a death defying stunt that marked you as a fool. Now it's a milk run. The Westsail 32 is probably as responsible for this as much as anything else. There are moments when the collective consciousness shifts, and what was obvious to one generation is not so obvious to the next, or perhaps more-so. You and Rani were freed up to do this by all those who went before, and some you know personally. Harry Pigeon's book is so charming because he makes it all sound like no big thing. In his day that was amazing. But I'll feel better when I hear you are safe in Aukland, because this next jump can be a big thing. Be careful.

Why there are so many people doing this

The other day we were chatting with a cruising couple who have been living this life since the early 1980's and they mentioned how different it is now from when they were first out here. There are so many people out cruising that the people in the places they visited are no longer as curious and welcoming as they were. The anchorages are more crowded and there are far more marinas and moorings, making it difficult in places to find a place to anchor.

I have already discussed discussed some of the things that make long distance cruising so much easier now than it was even a generation ago. But a few more things have occurred to me, so please forgive me for some repetition.

Increased cruising infrastructure: More marinas and related infrastructure makes it possible to break up a trip, fix the boat, and even leave the boat in a safe place for a trip home. If you reach the point where you don't want to continue, you can ship your boat home via one of the long range boat carriers.

Improved weather forecasting: Available via long range radio, satellite communications, or wifi (when near a port), we have access to powerful computer-based models as well as dedicated amateur and professional marine weather forecasters. For example, each day I can tune into a radio net out of New Zealand called Gulf Harbour Radio, where forecasters answer cruiser's questions about the weather.

Custom weather routing: Some cruisers sign up for custom forecasts and routing on passages like the one from Tonga/Fiji to New Zealand.

Better communications: Most cruising books still talk about sending letters to communicate with those at home. Nowadays, email via radio, satellite, or wifi access is the norm - instant and relatively hassle-free.

Availability of boats: The market, in North America anyway, is replete with 1000's of cruising boats available for prices ranging from that of a good second hand car.

Reliable inboard diesel engines: Make anchoring and maneuvering in tricky places much simpler than when one had to do this under sail.

Support nets: Radio nets connect cruisers to each other and those at home (via position reports posted on the internet). For example, each day when we are on passage we check into a radio net called the "Drifter's Net" that keeps track of vessels en route to New Zealand and Australia.

Improved navigation electronics and software: GPS, radar, electronic charting, AIS, and tide and current software make it far easier to know where one is and avoid hazards and other ships.

Labour saving devices: Inflatable dinghies and reliable outboard motors remove the need to be fit enough to row ashore, the electric windlass allows even a 90 pound weakling to hoist a heavy anchor, electric winches do the same for heavy sails, roller furling jibs and mainsail furling remove much of the effort required to hoist, lower, and reef sails. Self steering via wind vanes and autopilots relieves the crew of the 'tyranny of the helm'.

Shipboard conveniences: Water makers, water heaters, and pressure water provide the same convenience we are used to ashore. Propane stoves and compact refrigerators and freezers make it feasible to eat as well as you do ashore. Solar panels, big alternators, small diesel and gas generators, and wind generators provide electricity galore.

When Slocum and Pigeon did the kind of voyaging we are doing now, they had to build their own boats of wood. They cooked with kerosene or wood and ate the same sea-going diet that Columbus's crew endured. They navigated with compass, lead line, and sextant. I don't believe there was even a winch on board the Spray, although she may have had a capstan to help raise anchor. They had no electrics of any sort, nor an engine to move them on calm days or in and out of tight places. They had no radios and weather forecasting would have been done by consulting the sky, the sea, and the barometer. No wonder that, until recently, so few people went voyaging for pleasure.

Ha'apai and correction to last post

We finally sailed from Vava'u yesterday making an overnight passage to the Ha'apai group. These islands are mainly atolls - lower than the Vava'u group but with fantastic sand beaches and reefs everywhere. We sailed close-hauled all the way into a light SE wind, heaving to around 2 am off the islands. This morning we anchored off a 2 mile long sand beach after a few hours of interesting tacking between shoals and reefs.

There is a deep low forecast to come through here with winds to gale force that has everybody worried. Some boats on passage to New Zealand have actually returned to Tonga to take shelter rather than face the high winds and seas while on passage. We shall find a safe anchorage nearby, although the Ha'apai are not renowned for anchorages with 360 degree protection.

My friend Kurt points out that the last post should read 3200 liters per heating season - not 32000! He also suggest that solar panels take maybe 10 years to produce the amount of energy they took to make in the first place.

Carbon footprint while cruising - lower or higher than at home?

For a couple of years I volunteered for a climate change group at the University of Victoria. My area of focus was transportation - how to reduce the university's carbon footprint by encouraging people to take the bus, ride bicycles, car pool, etc. One of the most interesting aspects of working with this group was that it helped me understand how incredibly reliant we are on fossil fuels in our society. They underlie every aspect of our life because almost everything is manufactured using fossil fuels - from our houses, appliances, and cars, to the food we eat, and even the water we drink. In a northern country like Canada each of us has an enormous footprint due mainly to heating costs, transportation over large distances, and importing food from far away.

Sailing on a boat in the tropics goes a long way toward reducing one's short term carbon footprint, even though the energy needed to build our boats in the first place is large. For a start, we have been eating food that is grown locally and organically - some of which we have actually picked ourselves. It has been estimated that each calorie of a typical food in Canada requires about 10 calories of fossil fuels to grow, process, package, and transport. So eating locally grown un-processed foods goes a long way to reducing this consumption.

Heating a modest home in Nova Scotia, Canada, which does not have particularly cold winters used to consume about 32000 liters of heating fuel (diesel) per season. Combined with driving a car (1500 liters) and electricity consumption (via diesel generators - say 500 liters), that would have a couple burning 5200 liters of diesel per year. On Ladybug, we have used about 220 liters of diesel to move the boat over 8 months from Mexico to Tonga and around the islands along the way. Some of this (maybe 20 liters) was used to recharge batteries when we had a problem with our fridge not shutting off. We have also burned about 22 kilograms of propane for cooking. We have not had to use our little propane heater because the places we have visited are warm. Oh - we use about 3 liters of oil per engine oil change - every 100 hours of running.

Because we generate our electricity primarily via solar panels, the carbon footprint from this is the initial cost of manufacturing the panels and controller. I will not try to estimate this, but we can assume that the cost would be amortized over 20-25 years - the life of the panels. Many cruisers have additional fuel costs for generating electricity, mainly to run larger fridges or freezers and to make water.

So our extrapolated yearly consumption of fuel for transport, charging, and heating is about 250 kgs * 1.5 (12/8 months) = 375 kgs/year. This compares to about 5200 kgs/year if we were living in a house in Nova Scotia and driving a car - about 7 percent or 1/14 as much.

One spanner in the works is air travel. Back in British Columia, when I lived on a boat and drove only a bicycle, this made up a very large part of my carbon footprint . Each year I would fly across the country to visit my parents. Similarly Rani would visit her parent in the UK. Here the problem is worse. Rani will fly home to the UK from Aukland in a few weeks. This is a trip about half way around the world. Based on the ticket cost (about 2.5 times that of a ticket from Vancouver to UK) we can safely assume that our footprint from air travel will more than double during this voyage. The way we are minimizing this is for only one of us to make the trip this year.

A still night at Taunga

We sailed south to a new island anchorage yesterday - four long tacks into a light south west wind. It took more than two hours to accomplish what had taken 45 minutes a few days before when the winds were stronger and from the north. There were virtually no waves and the wind was so light that we chose to hand steer to make the most distance on each tack.

We have on board now a new set of charts for Tonga, created from surveys carried out by the New Zealand navy. Mike on 'Kokoamo', a Scot who spends his time between here and New Zealand, had watched as the navy ship cruised through the islands taking soundings a few years ago. New Zealand has made the charts available for free and when I visited Mike on his boat, he copied the charts onto our hard drive. These are raster charts that come as a series of '.kap' files. I believe these are simply image files with some extra meta-data (such as their location and scale) to make them usable with charting software.

We use excellent free charting software named 'OpenCPN'. To add the new charts, you simply specify the directory in which they are located and the software displays these charts along with others you previously loaded. This makes comparison between charts easy and it is clear that the older surveys of Tonga are not perfectly accurate. We are often shown as being anchored on the land or as passing over reefs when in fact we are in deeper water. You can see this by toggling between the CM93 vector charts of Tonga and the new ones. In the area we are in now, the old charts are transposed by a couple of hundred meters to the northwest on average.

When I snorkeled the anchor, the wind had vanished and the water was so still that I could lie with half my mask in one world and half in the other. I cannot recall another time on this trip when I have swum in still water. Later we sat on deck watching the sun dip into the clouds and a full moon rise. Beams of moonlight filtered through the high scudding clouds and the anchorage was lit by the reflections dancing lightly on the lapping water. As night descended, the bird songs quieted and a gentle chorus of insects took their place reaching across the bay from the nearby jungle. We feel so lucky at times like this.

Today we must find water, for our tanks are running low. We know of a cistern on an island a few miles from here, so will sail there when the wind returns.

Tapana part 2

The anchorage at Tapana (#11 on the Moorings charts - S 18 42.5 W 173 59.2) is most things one would want in an anchorage. Good shelter, a bay in which you can sail a small dinghy on flat waters but with good breezes, sand beaches, some snorkeling, access to Neaifu, about 5 kms away by paved road, a nearby (Spanish) restaurant, and good holding in sand.

An American couple has operated a floating art gallery here on a little houseboat, along with 9 moorings that you can hire if you would rather not anchor. This operation is now for sale as the couple has decided to retire. I hope for the sake of the cruisers, who use these moorings as a hurricane-safe place for their boats, that someone buys the operation and keeps up the moorings.

Going ashore on Ano beach, you can scramble up a cliff to the right of the beach and hike through tall grasses to a dirt tractor road that runs along the peninsula of the main island. The road takes you through small plantations of coconut, mango, taro, potatoes, and pineapples. We even saw a garden with tomatoes and pepper plants. Many of the mangos were picked for shipping to the capital last week, but there were still enough wind-falls left to make another batch of mango chutney yesterday.

To some New Zealanders, Tonga serves the same purpose as Mexico does to a west coast Canadian cruiser. It is a wintering place where you can pretty well be guaranteed good weather and warm waters while it is wet and cold at home. One of our neighbors, Mike, lives here 6 months of the year and spends the other 6 in New Zealand. He is actually a Scott from near Aberdeen, but is retired and has been living this lifestyle for 5 or 6 years. He lives on a 40 foot plywood/glass boat that has 800 liters of water tankage - enough to last him for several months without refill. Our other neighbors here are also on their way back to New Zealand. They sail a similar boat to Ladybug - a 32 foot double ended WestSail. This year, one of the owners sailed her solo non-stop from New Zealand to Victoria, BC - our home port. This was about a 60 day passage! He sailed due north from New Zealand to somewhere around Midway island (about 1000 miles west of Hawaii) and then turned and sailed for Juan de Fuca. His wife, sensibly, flew across and after the season in BC they turned around and sailed her back to Tonga. This makes our passages look puny by comparison.

We are now waiting for some wind to sail south - probably around the end of this week.

Tapana part 1

We have been anchored in Tapana now for 4 nights, with one brief foray down to another anchorage that proved to be untenable in the prevailing winds.

First - a little about our foray. We hauled up the anchor, drifted backwards a little, and then unfurled the jib, running downwind and out of the bay in a nice 10 knot breeze from the north east. A low was passing through the area and the prevailing south east trades had been replaced by gradually clocking winds which were forecast to swing into the west. The run down to Taunga Island was straightforward except for a charted reef over which we could probably pass (18 feet on the charts), but which we would rather not. We sighted the reef easily from the foredeck despite a grey sky that made it more difficult to see differences in water colour. It looks like some coral heads have grown on the reef since the chart was made as we saw a couple of patches of brown water over the more comforting green - light browns should definitely be avoided! We passed the reef a hundred meters off in deep water.

When we arrived at the point behind which the anchorage was located on the south east side of Taunga, it was clear that this was going to be a tricky place to enter. the entire anchorage was a shallow plane of sand with scattered coral heads. The wind was now about 12-15 knots from dead aft, so we rolled up most of the jib and finally furled it entirely, Rani steering us in under motor, while I directed us around the coral heads from the foredeck. Even with minimal power we were going too fast for comfort and as the water shoaled to only a meter below the keel, Rani made it clear that this was not a place she wanted to stay. We had one of our 'discussions', but in the end Rani's common sense won out and we hoisted a 2-reefed main and beat back up to our old anchorage at Tapana.

Food

I am inspired to write a little about food today at 'Chez Ladybug'.

We breakfasted today on home-made scones. I attempted to re-create the marvelous scones, which I used to enjoy at 'Satisfaction Feast' - a Buddhist restaurant in Halifax. When I was straight out of school and trying to find a position in the working world, I used to visit this place a couple of times a week, meeting a friend or my girlfriend there around lunch-time. The restaurant had a lovely atmosphere with skylights and plants and photos of Sri Chimnoy lifting hundreds of pounds above his head with one hand. The Waitresses tolerated a penurious regular who nursed his coffee and scone for far too long. The food was very good - the scones in particular offered both delightful taste and good value - large and weighty, yet moist and beautifully flavored. I am sorry to say that today's imitation did not come close, but I will keep trying.

Lunch was a re-heated carnivorous stir-fry - Rani's veggie one with a can of Kirkland chicken added. This canned chicken is delicious - completely different from the canned meats I used to buy for cruising up in Canada, which all seemed to taste the same - halfway between over-cooked salty ham and spam. The Kirkland chicken actually tastes and even looks sort of like chicken. For desert there was a fruit cup made from fresh local mangoes and bananas.

Supper was tamale pie - made from a recipe that we were given by our dear friends Ardy and Marv who cruised with us in Mexico on their sailing boat, 'Odyssey'. Every time we make this dish we think of times we shared in the Sea of Cortez. We now make the pie in a cast iron skillet on the stove top and it tastes as good as when done in the oven but uses much less propane. Tamale pie is spicy and made with corn, corn meal, black olives, and tomato sauce - delicious served with greens or a side salad and washed down with a robust red wine or Mexican beer.

More reading

Two recent books I would recommend:

Economics Without Illusions by Joseph Heath - looks at fallacies that pervade and distort our understanding of modern economics. From the table of contents:

PART I. RIGHT–WING FALLACIES
1. CAPITALISM IS NATURAL - Why the market actually depends on government
2. INCENTIVES MATTER -… except when they don't
3. THE FRICTIONLESS PLANE FALLACY - Why more competition is not always better
4. TAXES ARE TOO HIGH - The myth of the government as consumer
5. UNCOMPETITIVE IN EVERYTHING -Why international competitiveness doesn't matter
6. PERSONAL RESPONSIBILITY - How the right misunderstands moral hazard

PART II. LEFT-WING FALLACIES
7. THE JUST PRICE FALLACY - The temptation to fiddle with prices, and why it should be resisted
8. THE "PSYCHOPATHIC" PURSUIT OF PROFIT - Why making money is not so bad after all
9. CAPITALISM IS DOOMED - Why "the system" is unlikely to collapse (despite appearances to the contrary)
10. EQUAL PAY - Why some jobs must suck, in every aspect
11. SHARING THE WEALTH - Why capitalism produces so few capitalists
12. LEVELING DOWN - The wrong way to promote equality

I found the second part to be most interesting because as a left-leaning person, I tend to be blind to these fallacies while quite aware of those of the right :) This book opened my eyes and I would highly recommend it. Interestingly, it was written by a Canadian Philosophy professor who has studied the issues as an outsider. Perhaps this is why it reveals more than some of the works by 'insiders'. Heath does not have complete solutions to the issues that confront any society that strives for a just but effective economic system. However, he does a great job explaining these issues and how governments have tried to deal with them.

Voyage for Madmen by Peter Nichols - chronicles the first solo around the world non-stop sailing race. In the mid-60's a small group of amateur sailors set off from the UK to see who would be the first to sail around the world. There was to be a prize also for the fastest passage. The book does a better job than any previous account I have read to get into the minds of the people taking part. It is a well told story and one of interest not just to sailors but to anyone who is curious about the limits of human endurance. The characters, in particular Robin Knox-Johnston, Bernard Moitessier, and Donald Crowhurst are the stuff of legend. I have read Moitessier's and Johnston's accounts as well as "The Strange Last Voyage of Donald Crowhurst", but this book pulls it all together.

Mariner's Cave

Yesterday we made an afternoon trip in Ladybug to Swallows and Mariner's caves with friends on Picara and a Moorings charter catamaran that is sharing the anchorage with us us. Mariner's cave has been on my to-visit list for more than a decade - since I read about it in the book, "Trekka Round the World", by John Guzzwell. Guzzwell sailed a tiny wooden sailboat that he had built himself around the world in the early 1950's. He had visited Vava'u and Mariner's cave on that voyage and his description of his trip to the cave makes great reading.

Things were a little different here when Guzzwell arrived. Because the cave entrance is under water and impossible to find without local knowledge, he approached the cave across the island of Nuapapu with about 50 locals and a fisherman guide named Benny. We had a GPS waypoint, which allowed us to approach from the sea. His guide, Benny, had lost his arm when the dynamite he was fishing with blew up in his hand. Judging by the quality of the corals here, dynamite is no longer used for that purpose in the islands. The Tongans who accompanied Guzzwell had also never seen snorkeling flippers before and were delighted by how much easier it made it to swim.

Some things have not changed, however. You still have to swim down into a huge dark opening with no clear idea of how deep or far you need to go because the cave is completely sealed from the outside world and hence unlit. It was quite rough off the cliffs that run along this coast, with the waves reflecting pushing up a two foot chop. The friends we had on board Ladybug were reluctant to try the entrance. However, Falcon, our athletic friend off 'Beau Soleil' had paddled over in his outrigger canoe and he pointed out where the entrance was and encouraged us to give it a try (he had swum into the cave a couple of weeks ago). I made the first attempt, taking several deep breathes before following Falcon into the black depths, while the others kept Ladybug hove to off the cliffs. You swim down about 8 feet and along maybe 12 or 15 feet into the cave - no problem if you are used to shallow free dives while snorkeling, but still intimidating the first time.

Once inside the cave it was exactly as described by Guzzwell - a lovely blue light from the entrance lit the cave once your eyes became adjusted. The cave is quite large - about as big as a small church with a 30 foot ceiling from which hang ranks of small stalactites. Because there is no land exit, when the swell rises, your ears pop from the pressure change and as the pressure oscillates, water vapour condenses and clears periodically creating a mist that makes it feel like you are losing your vision. Leaving the cave is easier because the tunnel is backlit by the outside light. The best time to visit is in the afternoon when the sun brightens the entrance. I swam out upside down admiring the roof of the entrance tunnel.

Once outside I had to swim back to the boat to convince our friends to join us. Mike from Picara and Dan and Monica from a Moorings charter catamaran eventually swam over and I entered the cave with them a second time. They had no problems entering either and we floated around inside together marvelling at the quiet and unusual beauty of the place.

We sailed Ladybug back to Port Maurelle picking up a mooring under sail (thanks to the able assistance of Mike and Marny on Picara). A delightful ending to a trip I have looked forward to for so many years.

Observations on sailing a Coast 34

We have had several pleasurable day-sails amongst the islands here in the Vava'u group of Tonga, during which I have noted a few things about the sailing of our Coast 34. One note for other Coast 34 owners is that Ladybug II has a rig that is over one meter taller than the original.

Like many sailboats with the main mast set back near mid-ships, Ladybug sails well on most points of sail with just a jib or genoa. The advantage of this, for those lazy day sails between nearby islands is that the main can remain covered and flaked down on the boom - no hoisting and re-flaking. The disadvantage is that beating up-wind is not all that efficient. Because there is no main up to keep you moving upwind, you tend to fall way off the wind on each tack and cranking in even the small 110% jib is a chore when filled with 15 knots of breeze! Still - for downwind and reaching work, the jib on its own has much to recommend it when the wind is strong enough. There is no main to blanket the sail, which seems to happen anytime you sail within about 30 degrees of dead-downwind. Also, the wind vane or autopilot works less hard because there is less weather helm. Surprisingly, on our Coast 34 anyway, there is still a good deal of weather helm with just the 110% jib. This decreases as one turns off the wind or rolls in the jib, both of which move the center of effort forward.

We had to sail into Neiafu yesterday , which saw us sailing on all points, from a dead downwind run out of our anchorage at Tapana island, jibing around the reef that lies south of Kappa, broad reaching and then beam reaching between Oto and Ava islands, and finally beating our way under 2-reefed main and full jib up the channel into the town. When sailing through these islands, we try to stay out of their wind-shadows, but this is not always possible, and we often end up in fluky winds as they swirl around points or curl over the hills. It is much like lake or river sailing where you must always be thinking of topography of the nearby land and plan your course accordingly. I learned to sail from my Dad on a river/canal/lake system in England called the Norfolk Broads as well as on a lake in Nova Scotia, so this kind of sailing is familiar.

When beating up a channel it is tempting to try for the longest tacks, so that you have to do less of them. However, the channels here have coral reefs along their edges and tall land, too, so that is is easy to get in the lee of the land if you hold onto one tack too long. For our beat up to Neiafu, Rani stood on the foredeck watching for green or brown water. I would wait until the panic in her voice reached a certain level before asking her to come aft and help bring the boat around onto the new tack. This takes fine judgment.

Close hauled, we find we have to reef at about 10 knots of actual wind and put the second reef in at 15 or so. Otherwise, we end up with an overpowered boat and way too much weather helm. It helps to move the traveler off to leeward to reduce the angle of attack of the mainsail, but during short-handed close tacking, this is a bad idea as the traveler then has to be moved during each tack. Also, we usually start hand-steering when beating amongst the islands because our little autopilot cannot cope with sudden wind shifts and we have ended up in irons and accidentally tacking when we rely on it to steer.

We buried the rail once on the way up to Neiafu, but managed to tack up the channel and through the narrows, even staying the right side of the navigation marks! Rani tolerates this kind of sailing because she knows it makes me happy and there will be a pay-back of some sort. Yesterday it was ice cream.

Kenutu Island

Kenutu Island is on the far east side of Vava'u - marked as anchorage 30 on the Moorings chart and guide. It is a wild place, reminding us of the outer islands in Barclay Sound on Vancouver Island. Surf pounds on the outside of the islands and breaks fiercely across the reef that joins this island to its neighbors. Kenutu is formed of volcanic rock that is bubbled and twisted into incredibly sharp jagged formations. This makes walking hazardous, especially near the edges of the island where the rocks are a tumble of jagged boulders each sprouting dozens of tiny spires that feel like they could easily pass through the sole of your shoe.

The anchorage is very good with excellent holding in sand and no coral patches that we could find - only some light weed. It is well sheltered in the prevailing easterlies, with a slight chop and high tide when water makes it in over the reefs. There is a lovely path across the island from a sheltered beach on the leeward side near the anchorage. The island is covered in pandanus and pine-like casuarina trees and the leaves of the former and needles of the latter form a thick carpet that makes walking feasible. The trail leads to series of stunning look-offs over inlets on the windward side. Even in moderate winds, the sea here is an awesome sight - a cauldron of white-topped standing waves and endless surging violence. The water explodes on the cliffs, cutting deep flat ledges over which it then cascades into the ocean. It is easy to see how an island can be eroded by such forces and the counter-balancing forces of vulcanism and tectonics are the only reason these islands are still here. In contrast, little black and white butterflies flutter along the edges of the cliffs and tiny birds call from overhanging trees.

Speaking of vulcanism and tectonics, there have been two earthquakes nearby in the last couple of weeks - both 5 point something on the Richter scale. Some cruisers felt the last one although we were in a rough anchorage and did not even notice it, despite the epicenter being only 100 miles off.

Back to Kenutu. At low tide you can walk along the beach and out to the reefs that join either end of the island to its neighbors. The corals exposed here are small but lovely - bouquets of pink and purple flowers. On the south side, the islets are narrow and the surf erupts through blow holes in the dark volcanic rock. In one place there are two vents - nostrils through which a blast of air erupts with each large swell - like the roar of a dragon's breath. On the north end we saw a humpback whale making its way along the coast through rough seas.

We left Kenutu yesterday and are making our way back to Neiafu to check out.

Product endorsements

I thought I would plug a few things that we are very pleased with.

Nestle Nido - Mexican whole dried milk (leche entera). This keeps 7 months without refrigeration and still actually tastes like milk when made up with some nice cold water. Not sure we can buy this in Canada or the US?

Alpenglow lights. I have said good things about these before, but it is worth restating that these folks, based out of the US, make wonderful interior lights that take little power, provide pleasant warm light, and are reasonably priced - I wish there were more companies like this that actually made good stuff in North America.

Garhauer - our hard vang, main sheet blocks, and running backstays are all made by Garhauer - another US company that makes marvelous stuff at good prices. No problems with any of their products beyond some wear to some fibre glass spacer washers in the vang assembly. They are made of good steel with oversized bearing races that require little or no maintenance beyond an occasional wash down. Other gear under similar loads (the traveler assembly) has not fared so well.

Monitor wind vane - another US built product that is very well engineered, requires almost no maintenance, and works well in most wind conditions, so long as one makes an effort to balance the boat and keep the weather helm within reason. We have had friends with other wind vanes who have had nothing but trouble getting their vanes to steer the boat, even in moderate conditions. Several friends fitted a vane made by an English manufacturer whose vane uses a secondary rudder to steer the boat. A couple of them are happy, but most have had major difficulties with the vane and one told me they only use it as a back-up for their electric auto-pilot. The Monitor is a servo pendulum vane, which uses water forces to amplify the steering force of the wind. This gives it the power to handle heavy conditions. The product is made of stainless steel with plastic bushings and pulleys. So far, we have sailed more than 7000 miles under vane steering and have had no maintenance to do other than end-for-ending the steering lines due to chafe and re-lashing the turning blocks to the stanchions when my lashings chafed through. The vane on our boat was second hand when installed and we still have the complete re-build kit that comes with the new product, so I would guess it has worked for at least 10,000 hours with no rebuild.

PrincetonTec waterproof flashlight. Had this for 7 years and use it every day on the boat - one bulb change. Still waterproof.

Whale foot pumps - we use these in the galley every day as we have no pressure system. They allow two handed washing and have been completely reliable. I suspect they are original to the boat (25 years old). I believe they are made in the UK.

The Big Five-O in Tonga!

We celebrated my fiftieth birthday (18th October) in the Vava'u Group of Tonga. I was a little concerned that we may not be able to get ashore as the wind gusted through a gap between Mafana and Ofu Islands and we were anchored quite far out from the landing beach on Ofu. However, Chris has had plenty of rowing practice in heavy winds, so we visited the manicured little village in Ofu that morning. It was lovely walking on the newly mown grass path hugging the shoreline, occasionally peaking into open houses where up to six ladies sat on the floor weaving pandanus mats. They work as a co-operative to make the large floor mats for sale or use in their own homes. These can take up to a week to complete. In one hut, a little girl, Peta, was threading coconut fibre through sweet scented frangipani flowers to make leis. She gave one to her grandmother, who insisted upon giving it to me. They gave another to Chris but he is not a lei kind of guy, so I ended up with both around my neck and the perfume was divine.

We explored a well trodden path behind the village which led to coconut and pandanus plantations. The trail was covered with ripe mangoes falling from the many trees along the way. We picked the good ones to eat as we walked, peeling back the skin with our teeth, sweet juice dribbling down our faces. Mangoes are my favourite fruit so it was like mana from heaven. There were several types of trees bearing fruit of distinct flavour and we decided we would gather a bunch on the return trek, leaving markers close to our favourite trees. But we got turned around somewhere and looped back into the village along a different trail. We had to back track to gather the fruit from some of the closer trees.

After a glass of wine, lunch and snooze on board Ladybug, we sailed downwind to the back harbour of Neiafu. Due to an extensive reef nearer the town, we anchored on a 4 fathom (24ft) shelf across the bay in the northeast corner. This meant that Chris had to row half a mile to take me out for a nice meal. His biceps are bulging these days! We chose the Aquarium Cafe which serves very tasty pizza and has a great atmosphere. A local music group played Tongan melodies on guitar, ukelele and banjo, fuelled by the mellow effects of kava. Brad and Gloria from Kindred Spirit bought me a glass of red wine to go with my brownie and ice-cream dessert. It was a perfect ending to a great birthday!

Star-studded Snorkeling

What amazes me is the variety of colours, shapes and textures of the sea life we have seen during the last five days in the Vava'u Group of Tonga. Sapphire blue stars, soft pink and mustard yellow pillow stars lie contentedly next to rust red pencil urchins on the reef and decorate the white sandy sea floor.

Snorkeling over the coral beds is like gliding over a garden of blooming heather bushes of blush pink and lavender, graceful bonsai trees in turquoise, blue and rich dark purple, ruffled lettuce patches, mushrooms and toadstools of many hues. Under and amongst them hover tiny fishes like the sparkling blue-green chromis and fluttering damsels. Occasionally we see an anemone swaying along the reef's edge and a clown fish or two darting about, just like Nemo and his dad.

As for the fish, some are half royal blue and half yellow with golden fins and blue eyes, others sport a raiment of sparkling spots, speckles and stripes. Then there are those that resemble raccoons with their big bright eyes and long noses with white patches. We see new patterns and colour combinations every day and marvel at their complexity. Picasso would have enjoyed these abstract forms.

Amongst the most exotic creatures we have seen so far are a giant multi-coloured shrimp about 6 inches long, black and white banded snakes (venomous), and a 2 meter lemon- coloured shark with black spots that gave us a fright when it swam rapidly toward us during a reef snorkel.

Sailing in Vava'u

Vava'u is a group of more than 20 islands and dozens of reefs. The main island lies to the north and has a well protected bay on which the capitol, Nieafu is situated. This is where the charter yacht companies, sports fishing, and whale watchers are also located. 'Moorings', a large charter yacht operation publishes a very useful guide and map to the islands that shows the location of 42 anchorages of which about half are day stops and the remainder suitable for overnight use. The anchorages are numbered, which certainly makes it easier to describe where one is going to, but does remove some of the romance. For example, we are in day anchorage 40 now, more properly described as 'off the white sand beach on the east side of Avalau island'.

Sailing between the islands is a treat because the reefs and islands block the open ocean swell, but the trade winds blow for much of the sailing season. It is a bit like sailing on an island studded lake. While you do get some fetch across the larger reaches, the sailing during the week or so we have been here has been superb - steady 10-15 knot winds and only an hour or two between anchorages. Many boats only roll out their jib, not bothering to hoist the main, and we have taken to doing this for most passages.

When you arrive at an anchorage, there is usually a white sand beach to explore and nearby snorkeling opportunities. The current island we are anchored off has both and, unlike some anchorages, you can reach some great corals without having to wait for high tide to swim across a reef. This anchorage and the one we stayed in the night before are both marked as day stops, probably because they are more rolly than the overnight ones, but the holding is good in sand and the rolling goes down when the tide drops and the reef begins to block any fetch.

We went on a ramble this morning following the goat trails between palm, pandanus and pine trees on Avalau Island and it reminded me of the deer trails in the forests of Vancouver Island. We counted 14 goats and kids sitting under a large tree off the beach. It would have made an idyllic pastoral painting. One of the kids was suckling on his mamma's teats and it was tempting to get some goat milk for cheese but Chris was not fast enough!

Tongan economics

Tonga, like much of Polynesia, appears to be a semi-cash/semi-subsistence economy. When you walk through a village here, it is clear that most of what the people eat they grow or catch in the sea. We have talked to several men who have told us that they travel to New Zealand to make money to buy things like outboard motors and to send cash home to their families. To make money here, Tongan families travel to the market in Neiafu and sell fruits, handcrafts, and vegetables. Villages on the outer islands also put on 'Tongan feasts' featuring suckling pig, fish dishes, taro, and other fruit and veggie dishes. The feasts are attended mainly by cuisers and other tourists - one recent Saturday feast on little Lape island (population 30) drew 94 Palangi tourists.

Most of the business in Neiafu outside the market is sewn up by Chinese storekeepers, foreign owned sports fishing and whale watching operations (mainly New Zealanders and Australians, judging by the accents we hear on the VHF reporting marlin catches and whale sightings), and restaurants owned by Americans and Germans.

The locals in Vava' appear to build their own boats. These are usually launches, with small cabins forward and seaworthy hull shapes - either V-bottomed with hard chines or round bottomed plank and batten construction. Boats are vital in Vava'u where the population is widely spread over dozens of islands.

Land in Tonga is owned by Tongans and leased to foreigners when necessary. Even the resorts are built on land leased for a long term (20 or 30 years). When we visited Kapa island, we found the most lovely piece of land on a point, with good soil and about 2 acres that could be easily cleared for planting. We imagined ourselves growing our own food here and running a small Indian restaurant catering to yachties. When we asked a local about the land, he told us that it belonged to a 90 year old man who lived now in Neiafu. He allowed kayakers to camp on the land and enjoy the sand beaches, but had turned down offers to lease it.

One disturbing thing we saw in the villages was a series of large holes dug outside of all the houses. These holes were there so that a concrete pad to support solar panels could be poured. The Japanese were funding this project and we were told they were doing this to secure Tonga's vote at an International commission on whaling. Japan 'harvests' whales for 'scientific' purposes, in the face of international protest. It appears that they would like to legitimize this.

Foreign fishing is also an issue here. We could not get a straight answer from anyone on what is happening, but it appears that Asian vessels are fishing with long lines (up to 14 miles long!) in nearby waters. One sports fishing guide was complaining that they pay a tiny fraction of what such a license would cost in New Zealand. I would hazard a guess that the same charter operator also benefits from low Tongan prices!