We left the Bay of Islands in Vanua Balavu around 5 pm. We made it out of the pass before dark. It was quite windy, Riki’s guess was 20-25 knots, but it was from behind so it felt like less. (We don’t have a gauge that tells us the wind speed.) It was also a pretty lumpy ride, with a southern swell that brought 7’ waves. It was the kind of passage where we had to always hold on to something with one hand, where we timed our movements up the companionway steps to the lulls in the lurching waves.We were sailing 5.5-6 knots under a double-reefed main alone.
Before leaving I had prepared my watch bag. In my watch bag go my journal, my ipod, a book, the star chart, a headlamp, a can of peanuts and a bag of dates. I am prepared for calm weather so I can read or write, but often it’s so rough all I can do is listen to music. Or just sit and think.
My watch was from 1 am to 6 am. While on watch, you are responsible for making sure that you aren’t going to hit another boat, or land or reef, and that you are going in the right direction with the right sail configuration for the conditions. So I set my alarm for every 15 minutes. When it beeps, I stand up and do a 360 degree scan of the horizon, looking for lights on other boats. Then I look up at the top of the mast to check the arrow that shows the wind direction, and I look at the sails to see they aren’t luffing. Next I check the autopilot course and look at the navigation system to see that we are on course. We use electronic charts and a GPS that is built into them. Evi taught me all those checks to do. And she always said, wake me if you need help or are worried about anything. Captains sleep notoriously lightly.
From my previous experience passage-making in the South Pacific (Tahiti to the Cook Islands to Samoa), there is so little boat traffic at night, so I never expect to see any lights. Nothing like leaving the Med! So I was very surprised to see a big ship around 1:45 am on my watch. I got out the binocs to see if I could see either red or green lights, which would tell me which direction the ship was coming. I turned on the radar to see how far away it was and to see if we were on a collision course. I kept watching it, nervously. Then I woke up Riki…just before it was clear that the ship was passing in front of us. Darn, I hate waking him up when I didn’t need to.
Soon after Wade woke up crying, and Riki got him out of his keeper, and handed him up to me. I fed him, but instead of falling back asleep, he was just looking around, feeling the wind on his face. It was a full moon and so very very bright. So all three of us sat awake in the cockpit for about 30 minutes at 2 am.
When on watch it’s also important to be listening, to not have your ipod up too loud, because sounds are clues to important things. Like flogging sails, or maybe something is loose that you forgot to tie down, or something that could be dangerous. So whenever you hear a noise, you don’t feel right until you identify what is making that noise.
Meanwhile, trying to sleep down below is difficult because there is a cacophony of noise. We haven’t yet properly shimmed all the bottles in the galley shelves, so they clink and clang. The gimbaled stove also kept swinging and banging against the shelf. Plus your body is getting thrown back and forth as you try to relax. I was fighting seasickness and willing my tummy to relax. The most stable position was lying on my back. So…I didn’t sleep that well.
It’s easier sailing with Wade at night than in the day. In the day, he is pretty much confined to the cockpit, and it it is rough, you want to be sitting on the low side (leeward side). And then he wants to grab stuff–like the working jib sheet, or the wheel, or the keys, or push buttons on the autopilot–all things that are necessary for sailing. So we find ourselves trying to entertain him with other toys in a very small space (the low-side cockpit bench) That happened this passage for a few hours in the morning.
We arrived and were safely anchored by 9:30 am. As we did a spin past s/v Tuuletar, Cat called out, “You want some leftover banana pancakes?” Do we ever! Then she dinghied over to drop them off. What a lovely welcome to Qamea. I then made us a big breakfast while Riki launched the dinghy, put the sail cover on & the cockpit shade up. And we had our anchor beer with breakfast.

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