By Grant
Before we set out on this exciting around the world escapade, I always knew that the Pacific was the biggest and longest of the oceans we would need to cross. I was also the least knowledgable about the area, the weather patterns and and the cultures. For me the pacific was the great unknown. Since we finally crossed the Great Panama Canal and entered the Pacific there has been an unbridled exciting amongst us all. It is hard to completely explain but I am pretty sure it is because of the great unknown. Since arriving I have shared the quintessential nature of Panama City, the secrets of the Pearl Islands, the spiritualness of Costa Rica and the amazingness of Galapagos. Our arrival into the Eastern reaches of the Pacific was incredible to say the least. But now we need to make the big crossing to French Polynesia in the South Pacific.
I have written many updates about the crossing and this one will serve to summarise the last few days and to capture the feeling of arrival and accomplishment. For me there is no comparison between the Atlantic crossing and this one. I feel exhilarated and fulfilled. I feel the warmth of accomplishment. I feel alive. I actually feel like I could end our escape right here and I would feel fulfilled. But alas the show must go on.
The final few days of the crossing were going very very well. We continued to make excellent speed and if anything I was trying to slow us down a touch. I didn’t want to ruin this incredible experience by making a silly mistake. And during the final dinner with only 100nm to go I spoke to our little crew and warned everyone of “The Final Mile” which is an expression I have used to describe how most accidents happen on the final stretch. I explained that the weather predicted to be stronger than at any other time on our journey but nothing crazy. I ask everyone to give a final push and to be vigilant to the end. The evening began well and we were speeding along. SV Arabella was enjoying her favourite point of sail, the broad reach and was flying along. It all looked like it would end in a dash and it would all be over. But alas nothing is ever quite so simple. No not this evening. The wind continued to increase, knot by knot and suddenly the 18knots gusting 22knots became 26knots gusting 32knots and our sail plan was not ok. We had far too much sail up and the sea was getting very rough. My instinct was that I could easily just bare away from the wind and take the pressure out of the wind but soon I found myself almost dead downwind and running from the wind but also not going towards our intended Island of landfall – Fatu Hiva. But at this point I was not concerned. I radioed Simon on Dragonfly and said that if this wind doesn’t relent we may have to change course and head for Hiva Oa instead. He said no problem but that would mean arriving in night time which neither of us wanted to do. Furthermore it was a dark night and a new moon. Not easy to see anything.
Soon our situation became worse. The wind started to get set at 30 knots and I only had one reef in my main sail and was becoming more and more nervous. Any mistake now and we would be in grave danger. Unlike monohulls which get blown over by the wind and release all the pressure on their sails, unfortunately a catamaran has not got this pressure release system and you can loose your mast and rigging should you get caught out. And on this fateful evening I was running with too much wind behind me and the desperate need to round up into the wind to reef my mainsail. Finally I felt that the risk was necessary and I prepared everyone for manoeuvre. Arabella would be stationed on the main halyard, Big Alex would be working the downhall to help pull the mainsail down and Delphine would be releasing the reef and putting in the new reef. We furled away the last remnants on our foresail and waited for the next slight lull in the wind. And when it came I called the manoeuvre and used our engines to help swing SV Arabella into the wind. The risky part was when we would get broadsided to the wind and perhaps a gust of 30+ knots hitting us. Luckily for us we managed to swing around quickly and start heading into the wind. We had got lucky and were now pounding into the big waves. The yacht was pitching up and down into the waves making it all the more difficult to do our jobs. But soon enough the team had the mainsail coming down. I was struggling to keep SV Arabella into the wind. The waves were pushing us off the wind and it was really hard to keep her facing the wind. But stage one was complete. We had brought the sail down enough to put in the next reef. And I could hear the team starting to tension the main halyard and then yells of it is too tight. It was hard to know exactly what was going on as I was struggling with my part. But finally it seems all we need to do was tighten the clew line to the halyard and release the topping lift. I could hear the clew line being tightened and I thought it sounded good but normally we would check the reefing lines are not tangled at the end of the mast. But on this faithful night we didn’t. It would not have been easy because only little Alex and I really know what to look for and she wasn’t on deck and I was predisposed trying to keep the boat straight. When finally they released the topping lift the boom came down too low and the reefed sail flew out. At this moment I didn’t know what was wrong. I looked up and I could see something was terribly wrong but I couldn’t see. All I could see was that the lazy bag was loose and one of its lines had broken. Without knowing the details and not b being able to leave the helm I ordered the mainsail to be dropped completely. Safety first and we could motorsail the final 70 nm. Even though this would be a sad way to arrive I knew it was the right thing to do. So we dropped the sail and turned towards Fatu Hiva and put out our storm job and motored the rest of the way. When dawn broke I was able to see what had happened. Sadly, the thing we always check for had happened and the reefing line had looped around the end of the boom and when we tightened it, it felt like it was tight but actually it was not in the correct position. When we dropped the topping lift, the reefing line was released and the sail was not secure and the boom came down. No damage except and lazy bag line was broken but our pride was bruised and we limped into Fatu Hiva under motor.
This last evening had put a slight damper on my emotions. We had done so very well as a team and I couldn’t understand why this final moment gave me so much heartache. But I felt a little low but not nearly as low as I was about to feel when we dropped anchor. After 16 days at sea all I wanted was to drop anchor, open a beer, have a glass of champagne, celebrate and then relax and sleep. But alas the gods had more installed for me.
Hanavave in Fatu Hiva is considered one of the most beautiful anchorages in the world, surrounded by steep volcanic cliffs and lava turrets. It is also well known for its katabatic wind swooping from the high mountains down its narrow valley onto the bay. As we sailed into the bay, we got a taste of this wind… 35-40 knots of gust! It is not the easiest anchorage and the bottom drops away very fast. I wanted to to get nice and close in but also leave a little room for Dragonfly. So I crept in and dropped pretty close to the northern end of the bay. All seemed well and the anchor went down and I waited for her to hook. But she was not digging in so I wanted to let out some more chain when the windlass just stopped working. I couldn’t release more chain and I couldn’t retrieve the chain. The katabatic wind would hit without warning and swing the boat around. Reluctantly I left the helm to Arabella to steer the boat away from the rocks while I ran around checking the obvious. Circuit breakers, controls etc but all seemed fine. I also dived down to see if the anchor is hooked. We dug up the windlass manuals and tried to read the troubleshooting section but it was useless. Why or why was the windlass not working??? And why now? Why test me when I am completely exhausted?
I stood there with so little left in me and realised that my priority was to secure the boat but I also realised in my eagerness to allow space for Dragonfly I had dropped my anchor too close to the northern shore. If I let more anchor chain out, my scope would be larger and I would be even closer to the rocks. I had no choice because now I had no working windlass so I let more line out manually and secured my bridle and started setting all my anchor alarms to warn me if we got too close to the rocks.
No internet, no technicians, no help and a problem I had no idea how to fix. Actually I had no idea what the problem was. So no relaxing. No beers. No way. It was 9am when we arrived and now it’s almost noon! I needed a break. I decided that I was now safely (sort of) anchored and my first responsibility was to have a beer which I did. And not only one! But we didn’t pop the bottle of champagne that we had chilled in the fridge. Nobody was in the mood to celebrate with the windlass problem hanging over our head.
The next day Simon came to help me and we began the process of troubleshooting. It was soon we realised the problem was with the motor and the motor was receiving power but not turning over. Either the brushes were stuck (good news) or the motor was ceased (bad). The only way to determine this was by opening the motor and sadly on my boat the only way to open the motor is by removing the whole windlass. Big job. Anyway after one day dissembling, day 2 allowed me to access the motor. I am sure many yachties are familiar with electric motors but I was sadly out of my depth so I took a short trip to the small village and asked a nice fella to borrow his home internet and tried to learn something on YouTube. I saw enough to give me confidence and went back to my boat armed with at least a sliver of a clue. I opened the motor and found one of the brushes was very stuck and this gave me hope. I sanded it back a little and cleaned it all up and then went about testing it before reinstalling. We used jumper leads (Simons brilliant idea) to connect the motor to the original power source and pushed down… click click and nothing. I sat there bewildered and shocked. I was sure I had fixed the problem. We both were pretty concerned at this point and whilst I sat in the anchor closet I looked up at Simon and saw the breaker behind him and immediately realised we hadn’t turned it back on. I made a squeal of delight and we turned it on and tried again and she worked. Eurika. God I was relieved. We took another half day resembling everything and finally I could relax after a long journey.
We enjoyed a lovely time on the tiny island of Fatu Hiva hiking, picking fruits and watching the manta rays but also a few unfortunate events had happened. Delphine was bitten by a stray dog, Little Alex had caught her hand inside Luca’s air rifle and got a nasty cut. Fortunately neither injuries were serious, but I started feeling restless. I wanted some internet and I wanted to rid myself of the rocks alongside me, the katabatic winds and the incessant cloud over the island. It was time to move.
And so after 1 week on the little island we decided to set sail at 5am. Just before sunrise. As we began lifting the anchor all was well but she got a little stuck (nothing unusual) and we waited for the boat to pull her softly when suddenly the anchor chain just started running free like a possessed snake. The sound was terrifying and I knew there was nothing that could be done. I was waiting for the last of the chain to be caught by the bitter end ( a small piece of rope to tie the last of the chain to the boat) when I realised we had untied the bitter end during the crossing and used it to hold the anchor in place and with a deathly plop I heard the last of the chain fall into the water and be gone. Here I stood on my boat wondering what to do. I had no anchor!
I was being properly challenged. I realised we had not tightened the clutch enough and the windlass has run free and the chain had slipped through. Now I needed to get it back. I put Arabella on the helm of the yacht again and told her to keep the boat as best as possible in one place and I was going to dive to recover the anchor and chain. I dropped the dinghy and Simon came to help me and we drove to the place it fell. With mask and fins I dived in with a rope to try and find the anchor and attach a rope. It was not long when I found the anchor. 11m deep and I got the rope through and tied a knot. Climbed aboard the dinghy and heaved with all my and Simon’s might to get a piece of the chain onboard. I then left Simon and swam to the big boat and brought her to Simon who passed us the rope and we pulled it back onto Arabella and secured the chain and lifted the chain and the anchor. 30min from losing the anchor and chain and we were all sorted. Massive relief. Another first but another reason I needed to leave this island. I will remember this Island mainly for the troubles she brought me. I am glad she is behind me and I am happy to move on.
Life at sea can be full of surprises.