Our passage across the Pacific concluded Friday, April 12th at dawn when we dropped anchor at 1630Z in Taiohae Bay, Nuku Hiva, French Polynesia. We sailed over 3,000 nautical miles in 16 days, 23 hours, and 40 minutes.
That is like driving from LA to Maine... on a riding lawnmower.
Except for one light day of sailing and 29 hours of motoring through a calm, we experienced a very fast passage. Fast and loud. An average boat speed of just over 7 knots.
We were fortunate to find a fast lane from the start, but speed comes with a price: confused seas. It is noisy and bumpy, making it challenging to move around the boat.
We made landfall in the pitch dark night guided by the radar, electronic charts, and google earth satellite images (thank you SpaceX and Starlink!).
Sailors debate the wisdom of entering unfamiliar harbors at night. Even though Taiohae Bay is well charted and its naviagation straightforward, we elected to stand off until dawn. All of us sat in the cockpit looking at the lights of the town as we sailed slowly back and forth outside the entrance to the bay waiting for first light.
A huge thanks goes to our wonderful crew who invested a month of their lives to come along on this journey with us. When the rough weather and seasickness fade, the memories of time spent together as a crew remain. The crew makes the passage.
A journey like this can take a toll on the boat, the equipment, and the crew. Fortunately, we came through relatively unscathed. I appreciate Christophe Barreau's magnificent design and Catana's great work in building Roam. We encountered some minor issues with chafe on our reefing lines (mainly due to poor technique on my part). We also broke the port helm seat, which was already cracked when we left. I had neglected to have it redone when we were hauled out in La Cruz, thinking it could wait until New Zealand.
Aside from the typical "boat bites," bumps, and scrapes, the crew remained in good health. Much of the credit for that goes to Pam and Joan for taking such good care of us all, keeping us fed and happy.
John, in particular, was an amazing help. Every day he found some project that needed attention: fixing the drop leaf in the saloon table, swapping out the single-side band transceiver, replacing the charging socket in the guest room, and whipping all the lines we were cutting due to chafe. His project list was endless.
Pam was determined to make sure we had plenty of good, hot food. She came down weeks ahead of us to start the process of provisioning, cooking, vacuum sealing, and freezing all of our meals. I suspect we ate better than almost any boat making the crossing this year.
After anchoring, we set about the task of getting cleared into the country, dropping off our laundry, and finding the cheeseburger we had been craving for the last three days.
Kevin, an American, and his French wife run Yacht Services Nuku Hiva. They assist visiting yachts with nearly everything, including clearance into the country, laundry, crew transportation, fuel tax exemptions, importing parts, boat sitting, and just about everything else you could imagine. He helped with our clearance and immigration formalities and accompanied us to the gendarmerie, where our documents and passports were reviewed and promptly stamped approved. We are now legally here for a year, and our boat can stay here free of import duty for two years.
The crew heads home on Sunday morning. It's an hour and a half ride through narrow mountain roads to the airport. Mike and Joan are off to Tahiti, Moorea, and Bora Bora to decompress and enjoy a well-deserved vacation. John is headed back to his wife and dogs in Oregon via Papeete and SFO.
That leaves Pam and me to begin the process of adjusting to this new way of life. We’ll clean the boat and reconfigure it from passage-mode to cruising-mode. We’re expecting some cruising friends to arrive in the next few days. It will be nice to catch up and compare notes and hear about their passages.
I'll also say thank you from me and on behalf of the crew for all of your wonderful comments and well wishes. We could feel you with us out there and it made a big difference for us.
Then, we'll restock the fridge and freezer and set about exploring the Marquesas.
Excerpts From the Ship’s Log:
Crossing the Line
Tue 9/Apr 14:12 GMT
1º 36.317 S 133º 43.799 W
All is well. We are presently broad reaching in a moderate breeze of 15 knots with a single reefed main and Saul the Solent twinged to the rail and a moderate, confused sea of 6-8’. 1/3 daggers.
Crossing the equator is a celebrated rite of passage for every sailor. Yesterday was our time and we crossed at 2306 UTC.
Pollywogs who cross are eligible to enter the court of King Neptune and become shellbacks.
John was the lone shellback among us and he held a truly epic and memorable ceremony as King Neptune. He had crossed many years ago as a Seaman aboard the USCG cutter, Steadfast.
The ceremony itself is classified but it includes atoning for one’s sins against the sea, entertaining the king, and committing to stewardship of the kingdom.
This is a longstanding maritime tradition, widely practiced even today. And we were all duly awarded our certificates (suitable for framing).
500 miles to go. We should be into the anchorage on Friday.
—Jim
A New Plan
Wed 10/Apr 15:13 GMT
4º 00.564 S 136º 06.281 W
All is well. We are presently broad reaching at 9 - 10 knots in a 22 knot strong breeze with rough 8 - 10’ confused seas. Reefed main and Solent trimmed to the rail. Daggers up.
We are moving fast but the confused seas make for an uncomfortable motion. Last night we had sustained winds in the low 30s. These winds always seem more terrifying at night when you can’t see anything. We are very grateful for the new B&G Halo radar we installed in Mexico. It does a great job of looking out 24 miles at night.
We’ve made the decision to change our destination to Taiohe Bay on Nuku Hiva. Fortunately, the place and time we made this decision both Hiva Oa and Nuku Hiva were virtually the same distance away. The change cost us no extra time or distance.
There is a large, storm generated southerly swell forecast to arrive into Hiva Oa on Friday about the time we arrive. The anchorage there is small and exposed to the south making it potentially untenable. Sailing 3000 miles in 16 days and not being able to anchor or get off the boat seems like a non-ideal situation.
Nuku Hiva by contrast has a huge bay that can hold over 100 boats and while also somewhat susceptible to a southerly swell it offers more protection.
There are also 30 boats, entrants in the Oyster Around the World Rally, closing in on Hiva Oa putting further pressure on the limited anchoring space there.
We discussed the implications of all this during our daily crew dinner. The decision to divert was straightforward.
The weather routing models say we will make landfall late at night on Thursday. Our own more conservative calculations predict we will be in the anchorage on Friday morning.
Go, roam, go!
—Jim
Channel Fever
Thu 11/Apr 14:14 GMT
6º 34.894 S 138º 23.721 W
All is well. We are presently beam reaching in an 18 knot fresh breeze with a double reefed main and single reefed Solent in 6-8’ confused seas. 1/3 daggers.
For the past day and a half we have been bumping and grinding our way through this washing machine of confused seas. We are going fast with another 200+nm run yesterday but the seaway creates a loud and difficult motion. We’ve taken to heaving to for a few minutes to make it easier (and safer) to cook and eat.
The crews thoughts have turned to things ashore. What we call “channel fever”. Flight schedules, laundry service, best place for a cheeseburger.
We will make landfall (the act of sighting land after a long sea voyage) this afternoon. We’ve decided to slow down a bit so that we will have some light at dawn to find our way around the anchorage.
Already I can feel that strange, emotional sadness creeping in. It always hits me at the end of a long passage.
I want to get there but I don’t want the passage to end.
Land Ho!
Fri 12/Apr 07:14 GMT
8º 30.640 S 139º 36.601 W
All is well. Presently close reaching in 15 knots and confused seas with a double reefed main and single reefed Solent. 1/3 daggers.
It’s a beautiful star filled night. Nuku Hiva has appeared on the radar right where she should be. The island of Ua Huka has been visible for several hours.
We are trying to hold our speed down in order to have some morning twilight to work with when we arrive in the bay. But our girl just loves to run.
Almost there!
—Jim
Anchor Down
Fri 12/Apr 16:15 GMT
8º 55.019 S 140º 06.314 W
All is well. We are anchored in Tiaoha’e Bay, Nuku Hiva, French Polynesia. The anchor touched bottom at precisely 1600Z a dock-to-anchor passage time of 16 days, 23 hours and 40 minutes. Approximately 29.7 hours of motoring.
It was a very dark night last night and out of an abundance of caution we stood off the entrance of the bay slowly sailing back and forth for several hours waiting for dawn.
Now it’s off to deal with officialdom and get ourselves checked into the country, drop off our laundry, and find a cheeseburger!
All in all an amazing passage. Credit to this hardy crew with whom it has a genuine privilege to sail, and this magnificent boat. Scalawags the lot of them.
—Jim
