Fiji - Savusavu
Vega
Hugh and Annie
Tue 12 Jun 2018 07:54
Well, an interesting 10 day sail to get up here!
We motored or motorsailed for half the time and battled strong winds for the other half.
On the last evening at sea we were motorsailing with 6kts of breeze from the south east. We had just received an email from Bob McDavitt advising 10 to 15kts wind overnight but hoping also that an area of squalls didn’t reach us until after our arrival. We settled in for a beautiful sail to waft us up to Savusavu by dawn. I went to bed at 2100 with Annie taking the first watch. We were within the Fiji island group and at 2200 Annie noticed a large yellow area on the radar six miles away to the west. She thought it a bit odd as it was larger than any of the islands or a squall and was just deciding what to do when wham, we had 25 kts wind from the south, rapidly rising to 30kts and absolutely torrential rain. I came up into the cockpit and assumed it must be a squall. We had the mainsail up at the time and it had to come down.
We have a single line reefing system on Vega, a fully battened mainsail and lazyjacks (lines from either side of the boom up to a single point on the mast to form a retaining triangle on either side of the sail) to keep the sail on the boom when it is lowered. When putting in or shaking out a reef it is only necessary to de-power the sail by letting out the mainsheet or steering into the wind a little and then pull in the reefing line as the sail is lowered. The bottom two sail battens keep the sail within the lazyjacks. However, when the sail is being lowered fully in strong wind the ends of the top two battens can be blown around the outside of the lazyjacks and if this happens a third of the sail can fall off the boom, albeit still attached by the sliders to the mast. To avoid this from happening it is vital to be facing directly into the wind so that the top of the sail stays within the lazyjacks as it is lowered. In the pitch dark before the moon had risen we hadn’t noticed that the top of the sail had indeed fallen outside the lazyjacks. The only sure way to hook the battens back inside the lazyjacks is to go forward and do it by hand - not a sensible option in the conditions. The two consequences of this were firstly to rule out further use of the mainsail and secondly to create a small baggy sail area that might make us go faster than we wished.
Our course was now directly downwind. Under bare poles we were rolling quite a lot and so to counter this we could go a little faster by either letting out a small amount of genoa or running the engine. In such conditions we find that motoring on low revs provides a lot of directional stability and given that we were in the vicinity of islands we were keen to maintain a stable course. I am not sure that everyone would agree with this but in the circumstances we found it reassuring to stick with what we felt comfortable with. We therefore gently motored downwind with the wind gusting up to 43kts (Severe Gale force 9).
At this point it was interesting and amusing to listen to the exchanges on the radio. Some voices were so calm and collected you wondered if anything untoward was happening at all. Others were clearly under stress and we would try and fake some calm reassurance. One boat coming up behind another became irritated that the boat in front wasn’t holding a steady course and the boat in front in a very exasperated voice said that they were going in whatever direction the wind and waves were sending them!
After a couple of hours we came within 25nm of our destination on the island of Vanua Levu and had to contemplate every sailor’s fear throughout the ages of being on a lee shore. Our options were either to take a long detour around the outside of the island or to slow down sufficiently so that we still had a comfortable distance to review things in daylight (it was now midnight). We found that by holding the wheel fully to port the boat would sit at right angles to the wind and waves, drifting forward/sideways at around two knots directly on our planned course. So we lashed the wheel and sat back until we could set off again and arrive at Savusavu in daylight. At this point we could contemplate a few issues that became relevant. Thinking that we were in for a gentle last night sail we hadn’t tidied up the boat in anticipation of rough conditions and down below stuff was strewn everywhere; the cockpit wasn’t much better. When sailing from now on we will always keep everything stowed away and we will put in place means of lashing or securing all loose items in the cockpit such as the coiled ends of lines. We have been aware of the need for this for some while but reluctant to start drilling holes in our beautiful cockpit interior..............
Our Bimini sunshade over the cockpit takes a real hammering in strong wind. It is now in need of repair and reinforcement. Probably we should roll it up when it howls but the trouble with this is that it provides some protection from the rain which usually comes at us from behind. Without the Bimini rain would go straight down the companionway into the saloon. We could counter this by inserting the washboard into the companionway (and arguably we should do this anyway to prevent a wave coming into the cockpit from going straight down into the saloon) but this would impede access between the saloon and cockpit. As it happens we have a new clear acrylic washboard intended for greater security than the more flimsy wooden one. We will put this in place in future and can then still see up into the cockpit. Some boats have a compromise solution which is a Perspex ‘curtain’ from the rear of the sprayhood down to the cockpit floor that creates a dry area at the front of the cockpit but we will stay with our acrylic washboard - there is a limit to how many tweaks and innovations are reasonably affordable!
When we calculate how much fuel we have left in the tank we use two methods. Firstly we have a correction table that came with the boat because, due to the odd shape of the tank, the fuel gauge reading and actual amount of fuel do not directly correlate (other than full or empty). Our table tells us how much fuel we actually have for any given reading. Secondly we keep a record of the engine hours and calculate how much fuel we have used at an assumed two litres per hour consumption. Up until now we have obtained remarkable agreement between the two methods. However, on this journey the fuel gauge method shows more fuel remaining than the consumption method. This became relevant on Thursday night because we knew we were getting low but couldn’t be certain whether we had 60 litres remaining according to the gauge or only 38 litres according to the consumption. It occurred to me that consumption may have gone down after the fuel injectors had been serviced and therefore the gauge might be more accurate. What I hadn’t thought through at the time was that all our motoring had been at low revs as we had been mostly motorsailing and our fuel consumption would have been less than 2 litres per hour as a result. What was certain was that we didn’t wish to be on a lee shore without a comfortable amount of fuel in the tank and so we opted to put in 20 litres from a jerrycan. Apart from the obvious physical difficulties of achieving this our main concern was not to get seawater down the filler pipe. We weren’t getting waves across the deck at the time and took the risk that we could put the fuel in before one did. We managed it but will never again let the tank go so low when we have the opportunity to put fuel in under more benign circumstances!
Annie retired to her bunk, I stayed on watch in the cockpit and Vega rode the waves whilst we drifted at a comfortable 2kts. At 0430 it was time to make way again and we pointed Vega in the direction of Suvasuva, motoring at 4.5kts under engine and bare poles. At one point I heard a loud roar from immediately behind which was unusual because the waves were coming from the port quarter. Before I could turn around there was an almighty thump as the wave hit the back of the boat and a shudder that went through everything. I feared for all the gear at the back - Hydrovane, Duogen, outboard motor, gas cylinders but in the dark it all seemed to be still there.
The pass through the reef into Suvasuva is wide - about a mile - which is why we were confident of getting through in daylight and we joined the six other boats in making the passage. Once around the corner and in the shelter of the land the wind dropped away and we motored into the river and up to the marina with barely a breath of wind!
Looking back Annie and I are both glad we went through such an experience. Vega looked after us well and came through unscathed. No one relishes the prospect of such weather but at least we now know that if it happens again we are likely to survive. In fact boats do go through worse conditions and we have a drogue on board in case we encounter them. More on the drogue (and the weather) another time. As ever it reinforces the need to be prepared and if any equipment is going to fail the consequences are likely to be greatest in conditions such as these. Regular maintenance and backup options are essential.