Officially in Fiji!

It's been a good journey (have I told you about Raoul yet?) and the officials didn't want to wait until Monday to check us in, so all came by today (Saturday) as they were here doing other boats anyway. All were warm and friendly and welcoming people. So, we are here, even ventured ashore to have a nosy about the little village and do some hunting and gathering at the markets. Got settled on a mooring ball about 11:00pm Friday night and promptly went to bed. It's flat water and no wind, so felt a bit weird.

It was an interesting trip up the bay and into the river. Nearly got mowed down by a big car ferry as they weren't playing by the proper navigation rules, I think just going where they wanted to. More like the big guy has right-of-way. I wasn't about to argue. And of course not as interesting as Raoul. Ok, ok, I'll get to that in a minute. Anyway, it was fun coming into a strange place at night, all the lights a bit confusing, but we took our time and found a good spot amongst all the other boats here. Apparently, the ICA rally arrived two days ago, so lots of boats up this small river estuary right in front of this small Fijian village. After being at sea for nearly 2 weeks, adjusting back to "people noise" is going slowly, but ok.

It's really quite beautiful here, very green as it's the end of the rainy season. It's a very mountainous country as well so we will enjoy exploring the interior. The people are very friendly and a happy lot. It's also very warm and humid (yes, we escaped the NZ winter). Our first morning was a sunny and cheery one to greet us into this lovely country.

So, it's the conclusion of a 1400 nautical mile open ocean sail, mostly with favourable winds and conditions. We seem to have picked a reasonable weather window, as this passage always has it's challenges. But then of course there was Raoul. :) Lots of spinnaker sailing which is hard to beat. Very lovely ride. Our last day was a bit light on the wind though, so had to motor. 30 miles was so close, yet so far away. And with lightening about the night before, we wanted to get in.

Now Raoul was another story (yes, finally getting to it :) ). It being about half way, intriguing place to have a looky-see, and an approaching northerly frontal system, we decided to have a look. If it didn't look reasonable, we'd continue on and deal with the front at sea. When we got there it looked great, nice beach enclosed by huge vertical walls, protected by seas and wind from the east. With the front expecting a NE blow, we snuggled up to the beach to sit it out. It was a bit rolly with the swell wrapping around from the south, but much better than big seas out outside. So, we set the hook and Sally went for a swim. I noticed a big shark after cleaning a fish, so put the dingy in the water and went and fetched her. Peeeewwwww.

After getting a reasonable nights sleep, we decided to swim/kayak to the beach to check it out. It was too inviting to not have a look around. Now Customs would say we are meant to head straight to our destination without stopping, except for emergencies or safety, weather, boat troubles, etc. I say this qualified as a reasonable stop. We also did spot a big DOC sign on the beach saying "landing by permission only", so we set off to ask permission. We never found anyone and the vertical walls made access to the interior impossible without climbing gear. So we had a pleasant stroll down the black sandy beach. Once deciding it was time to get back to the boat, things got a bit more challenging.

By then, the swell had built up and the surf was pounding on the beach, making it an "oh my god" panic like situation. I tried getting out with the kayak and got trashed, cracked a couple of ribs and a few bruises and hanging on against the undertow, but I managed to get out on the next low set. It was the last low set and Sally was stuck with big breakers and a dry bag and kayak paddle to swim off with. She tried too, but got dumped on several times, thinking she wasn't going to make it as the rip was so strong. Me all the time sitting just out of the break on the kayak trying to work out how to help. Finally, Sally makes it back onto the beach with the dry bag and can't find a way off. After half an hour she finally heads for the end of the beach and out along the rocks to find a way back in the water. She makes it but has a long swim back to the boat. I head over with the kayak in case mister knobby (great white) shows up again.

About this time heading back to the boat, we begin seeing huge swells come in and EQ climbing over the peaks pulling hard on the anchor and then breaking just behind the boat. It was a heart wrenching sight, so we picked up the pace. We did make it back ok and pulled the anchor during a lull and moved to deeper water. Peeeewwww again. All is well except a kayak paddle gone missing.

So we had dinner and hunker down for the blow about to come in, thinking we're good and protected behind the huge walls in front of us. Right. It did start to blow and it was a long tense night as we sat anchor watch, eyes glued to the GPS for possible movement. At least the swell started to settle down, but the zephyrs were amazing. We recorded gusts over 45 knots, coming in like gunshot, or was it cannon shot. Amazing sheets of horizontal water as it dumped on us with a vengeance. All the time we're praying that the anchor will hold as our butt was pointed at the rock wall without much room to react in case the anchor did pop lose. My big mistake was to not move to the NW corner of the bay before dark were there would have been better protection.

But the anchor and ground tackle did hold, buried itself good in the sandy/gravelly bottom and we didn't move an inch. Bloody good anchor, proven itself yet again. Sometime in the middle of it all though, I decided it best to let out more anchor chain (more scope) to get the best possible pull and protection. That was a difficult task and caused a slashed finger cut in the chain windlass. Bugger again. I also rigged a float to mark the chain in case we had to cut it loose and make a run for it.

By morning it started to settle down and we got a bit of sleep. By noon on Sunday, it switched to the NW, the rain had eased and a chop started coming into the bay, which was our signal that the front had passed and it was time to leave. So with patched finger, cracked ribs and bruises, very little sleep and a sigh of relief, we pull the anchor aboard and put to sea. It didn't get very far that day as the NE swell had built up that night to 4 meters, even some 5 meter stuff. Big mountains of water is another way to put it. It was really quite amazing how big it can get in short order. But EQ can handle it just fine, just has to go slower when heading up into it. The crew however just needs to hang on.

By the next morning it all settled down and the winds backed more to the west and we had a good sail. In fact it was good sailing the rest of the trip. The one thing that made all the difference in the world was the auto-pilot. We did very little steering. Had we had to steer, it would certainly would have been very hard. So, good ground tackle and a good auto-pilot makes all the difference.

Anyway, that's the Raoul story, more or less. Beautiful place really and would like to go back sometime for a better wonder. The best part of course is we loved the whole trip, as hard as some parts were. It's good to be back to sea and living the life I worked so hard to make happen. And of course Sally-Jane has been a delightful crew and good friend. They don't come any better.

So, that's the news from EQ, where the winds are fair (generally), the seas are following (mostly), and the crew is content to be here and now (always). And of course a nice fresh shower is a delight.

Cheers. J