Bora Bora to Tonga

August 17, 2014

Bora Bora to Tonga

A trip of 1300 miles.  If we go 100 miles a day it will take us just 2 weeks.  But of course we will not go 100 miles a day so I am expecting a trip of 3 weeks which will put us there just in time to celebrate Alan’s 71st birthday.  Our first 24 hours could not have been better; blue sky, cool breeze, a few puffy clouds.  We cruised along at 5+ knots.  The wind died the first evening as we were trying to get past Maupiti so we put the engine for an hour.  Other than that we sailed.  The night was clear and starry with a half moon that came up just after midnight.  In the morning we hear other boats on the net complaining about too much wind and rain and cold, or no wind at all.  Our second day continues as perfect as the first and the third day is just as lovely.   Maybe this will finally be the wonderful trade wind sailing that Alan has been talking about all of these years.

With the wind dropping a little, we took down the main jib to hoist the yellow genoa and discovered several new tears, so I spent a couple of hours with sail tape and needle and thread trying to patch it up.  I have been saying that we need to get a new jib.  I just hope it lasts till we get to Fiji where we will have time to have a new one made.  Like everything else on Rhapsody, it is unique, old school and custom made. 

On day 4 our luck changed.  The rough weather that we have been hearing about on the radio has reached us, or we have reached it.  The wind is stronger and the seas are getting bigger with waves seeming to come from all directions.  No more long lazy swells.  This is whitecaps and spray and bouncing and rolling.  The waves are like a schoolyard of children, running in all directions, meeting friends, stopping to talk and then rushing off in another direction, plaung hide and weak and keep away with the boat, tossing it from side to side. Two waves meet and leap into the air.  They grab hands and belly slide across the deck, first one way and then the other before they run out through the scuppers. There is no rain but we are still soaked through from the waves washing over the cockpit and the cabin is draped with drying clothes.  Suddenly meals are a lot more difficult to cook. 

Time to get the sails reefed down.  And once again, just as we are trying to get the main sail down there is a loud rip and it has torn again.  Now there is a scramble to get it tied down tightly so that with wind will not catch it and tear it even further.  About midnight  Alan decides that the wind is just too strong, it is too difficult to hold the tiller, even with so little sail.  Time to  heave to for the rest of the night  We have been under way 4 days and are pretty tired so this is a chance to get a good nights sleep.  We are becoming great fans of heaving to.  We both sleep until almost 10am.

Next morning the wind is still howling and Alan decides we should just sit tight and wait it out.  It can’t last forever and we are not really in a hurry.  All of the bread has gotten moldy and had to be thrown out (Unlike the Mexicans, the French apparently do not put enough preservatives in their bread.) so we will have soup for lunch the rest of the way instead of sandwiches.  We are also very low on coffee, other than instant.  Other than that, we are fine.  After lunch Alan decides that this is the perfect time to practice with the paravane.  This is a small parachute which is dropped over the side of a boat while it is hove to in rough seas to steady the boat and calm the waves.  He bought it at a boat show a year before we left  home but we have never gotten around to trying it out.  I am not sure that a day of howling wind and crashing waves is the best time to “test” it but he wants to try.  First we fish it out from where it is stored.  Then we find the instructional CD that came with it.  The CD turns out to be mostly a marketing tool and not very helpful about how to actually use it.  We can’t find any other manual so he decides to go ahead and see what happens.  Bottom line, it does not work.  We are doing something wrong.  Now we can’t get it back on board.  We finally decide to start the engine and drive up onto it, me at the helm and Alan up on the bow pulling the line.  Eventually we get it aboard and packed away again.  Since the engine is going, we decide to motor for a while, at least we will cover a few miles today and this is a chance to charge the batteries.  Eventually we heave to again for a second night.  Our daily average is dropping rapidly.

Next day the wind is still blowing just as strong and the seas are still big and wild and coming from all directions, sweeping over the cockpit.  The sky is a soft, puffy gray, looking like that stuff that they pump into your attic for insulation  It is cold.  I am wearing two pair of pj bottoms under my deep sea overalls and two t-shirts and a fleece under my frog jacket.  I even get out ugg boots and furry gloves.  On the morning net we hear everyone else going through the same wild weather.  There is very much a grin and bear it attitude amongst the cruisers.  Always the question “Is all well on board?” and the answer “All is well”   Apparently this weather will continue for several more days, not getting any worse, before it calms down.  And so it goes.  We make very good time when we are sailing and we are going mostly in the right direction.  We heave to again one more night and eventually the wind drops and the seas begin to settle and the clouds clear.   It is lovely with the stars shinning on the water and just a sliver of moon.  The occasional wave still that washes over, fills the cockpit and drains out.


Now that we have a calm day we need to run the water maker.  Maybe I will take a shower and wash out a few clothes.  We are supposed to run the water maker every 3-4 days to keep the filters clean.  Running it involves stringing several hoses, taking up the floor boards to get at the tanks and starting our small Honda generator that is stored on deck.  We get every thing set, start the generator.  It runs happily for about 15 minutes and then just quits.  It has gas.  Alan cannot find anything obviously wrong with it but it will not start again.  It was knocked over onto it’s side during the tossing and thrashing of the past few day and we speculate that something got knocked loose or dirt got into the fuel line.  Anyway, no water making for the rest of the trip, no showers and no laundry.  We hold 150 gallons of water so it should not be a problem but we are not sure how much we have used already.  Suddenly we have to be careful not to waste water.

Next day the wind is stronger again and we are once more rolling around and getting drenched by waves.  At least the water is warm and we are making good time.  With just the jib and a reefed mizzen up we go flying along at over 6 knots.  It is really amazing to realize that these tiny bits of sailcloth are able to drive this heavy boat through the water.  The wind gradually builds up again until we estimate that it is at least 35 knots.  Alan thinks he has figured out how to read the wind gage. It throws up a random series of numbers but at some point it also puts up the right one.  So you just watch for something reasonable and that is the wind speed.  We know it is not 0.2 or 3.5 and we are also pretty sure it is not 49.  We heave to one more night and hold onto each other and the sides of the bunk as we rock and roll.  When the waves hit the boat there is a huge slapping sound and at one point we hear a wave wash completely over the top of the cabin but Rhapsody does just fine and we are never in any real danger.  Actually, other than being so tired, I think Alan is loving it.
After a couple of relatively calm days, it is time to run the engine to charge the batteries, and incidentally get back onto course.

Suddenly the engine starts to make a horrible noise.  Sounds like something grinding in the engine or transmission.  Quickly he kills it.  Now what?  I take over the helm again and he checks around in the engine room to see if he can figure out what is going on.  Everything seems OK.  We wait for a while and then try again.  Once again it starts right up and runs OK for about 15 minutes and then the awful noise starts again.  Engine off, back into the engine room.  He finally decides it might be the muffler rubbing on the drive shaft.  We will just sail for a while without the engine.  Suddenly the engine starts, all by itself. I finally manage to kill it before it starts the horrible noise again.  This is actually the clue that Alan needs to figure out the problem.   There must be a short in the new starter switch that he installed in Tahiti and the noise is the sound of the engine trying to start when it is already going.  It is  mounted in the cockpit and has been soaked every time a wave washes aboard.  we get our plastic and duct tape and make a temporary cover for it.  For the next day or so, the engine starts itself at random intervals.  Eventually it stops doing it.  (When we get to Tonga we discover that the wires have completely corroded and fallen off.)  No more running the engine and we will need to be very careful with battery power.  Luckily we are only a few days out and there is a good wind.

Only one more bit of drama before we reach Tonga.  We have a power generator that is a propeller on a rope that is towed behind the boat.  As the boat moves the propeller spins and generates a trickle of power, not a whole lot but enough to drive the auto pilot.  Since the weather has settled down I decide to throw the fishing line over.  It catches on the generator line and within a minute has wrapped itself completely around it, from top to bottom.  I grab a knife and cut the fishing line where it is attached to the boat.  Now we need to stop the boat to bull the generator prop in so I can untangle it.  An hour later it is done.  I decide that I really did not want any fish anyway. 

We have alerted the other boats in Tonga that we may be coming in without a engine and they are standing by in case we need a tow but Alan manages to hot wire the switch and we arrive under our own power after a passage of 17 days (plus one more for crossing the date line)