The Final Push Home

Imagine this – you are riding a wild bucking bronco, in your beloved home, on a steep incline and you are told to cling onto the saddle for four days, holding your best china in one hand, without breaking anything.  Now add to the mix the need to prepare food, wash and perform other duties without falling off the horse!   That’s what it felt like for us on the passage to NZ.   It all started quite differently……

We left Fiji early in beautiful sunshine with very little wind having prepared three days of meals, completed all the necessary pre-arrival requirements for NZ and carefully stowed things away for the anticipated nine-day passage.   Our weather router, John, sent us a synopsis of the weather we could expect for the next couple of days and provided us with lat/long co-ordinates for points we should try to aim for based on the forecast wind direction.   Each morning we were to send John our updated position via email, with details of the conditions we were experiencing, and he would then confirm our new waypoint or tell us how we were tracking and what weather we could expect over the next 24hrs.  It was a service we were glad to have bought, as John was able to predict windshifts and strength before some of the weather models had updated their data.  Also as a fellow sailor who regular sails between Fiji and NZ, John was a great knowledge bank we could draw on.

As soon as we were through the reef which borders Fiji’s main island of Vitu Levu, we were in the wind and heading for the first waypoint.   Our friends on SV Diva, Chris and Jenn, were following us but we had no doubt they would soon overtake us in their beautiful 60ft Deerfoot yacht.  This proved to be the case as the wind turned as we arrived at our first waypoint 24hrs later and they slid past us making the most of the gentle breeze and flat seas.   For the next few days, we remained within 10nm of each other, talking on VHF even when we couldn’t see each other on AIS and it felt comforting knowing another boat was close by if either of us needed help. 

Over the first few days we had to motor as the wind was fickle with the constant swell taking any wind that was in the sails and we soon grew tired of the constant banging of the main and jib as it filled and then was emptied again!   The weather was still warm, and we took it in turns to keep a watch out for any other boats or dark ominous clouds on the horizon, making the most of any wind that appeared and turning the engine off as quickly as we could.   The wind was always in front of us on our port side so, when the wind increased, we had to get used to living on a permanent lean! 

Each night we participated in a SSB (Single Side Band) Net run by Gulf Harbour Radio.  Patricia and David provide a nightly monitoring and communication service, free of charge, for any boats heading to NZ, Australia or anywhere in the Pacific.   They are fellow sailors who love to pass and receive information to help other sailors on passage.  It is a fabulous service, run from their home in Gulf Harbour with Patricia offering encouraging comments and taking position reports while David comments on weather.   Each night we were able to follow other yachts’ journey and get information from those not far ahead of us regarding the conditions they were experiencing so we could understand what we may expect as we approached their location.  

By the fourth day we were starting to head south west towards our third waypoint provided by John in strong winds and short sharp seas.  As I look back at the emails I sent and comments on the nightly Net, I was getting increasingly concerned about how far west we were heading.  At one point it looked like Australia was a more viable option than NZ as the south east winds continued to batter us.   In addition to the winds increasing, the waves were also building as we bashed into them on a continuous seesaw.  So now we were not only dealing with healing over, but we were also having to contend with the boat bashing into 3m swell every couple of seconds making the boat, and us, shudder each time we slammed down on a wave.   I needn’t tell you how unpleasant and concerning it was as we remembered a number of friends and fellow cruisers who had experienced rig issues recently!  

The weather was getting considerably cooler and in the evenings we wrapped up in warm clothes, woolly hat and a blanket to keep watch under dark, moonless skies while the one off watch snuggled under a duvet in our aft cabin.  Two of the features we love about Cerulean really came into play on this passage – our lovely cabin in the back of the boat and our deck saloon which meant we could stay warm and dry below when the weather turned for the worse.  Having our comfortable bed in the back of the boat meant we slept really well without the noise and bouncing at the front of the boat as Cerulean slammed down on a wave.  

On day eight, as if by magic, just as we were approaching the waypoint provided by our weather router, the wind turned more east, so we were able to start turning towards NZ.  With the change in wind direction came squalls and we contented with 30knot gusts right on the nose which, believe me, is not pleasant!   Steve had been feeling unwell for a few days and had developed a nasty cough and runny nose.  He was slowly starting to feel better when we noticed that the two strops that hold the bottom of our jib furler in place, had become loose and there was no alternative but to go forward and repair it.  With the boat crashing down on building winds we stopped the boat by heaving-to and letting Cerulean sit side on to the wind with the main sail filled but the jib backed.   Steve edged forward and worked stoically under huge pressure and in the worst conditions while feeling unwell.   He once again saved the day, and we were soon back sailing again.

The wind started to die at midnight on the eighth day and the calm and quiet of the boat moving through the water at 6knots was fabulous after the craziness of the last few days, however with the drop in wind, the direction had also changed so we were no longer heading east and, if we continued on this course we would now be heading down the west coast of the North Island!  However, the wind died a lot faster than we had anticipated so by 4am we were motoring, and this is when the advantage of having an aft cabin is cancelled out!  The noise from the engine is loud and trying to sleep with the constant drone of the motor and whirl of the prop is a challenge.  Our forward berth was filled with stowed items, so it was currently not an option to decamp to an alternative cabin.  We still had just over 200nm to get to Opua and this meant almost two full days of motoring, so our hope now was that, instead of just a few hours earlier when we hoped the wind would abate, we now wanted to have some more wind as we can usually sail faster than motor!   To make matters worse, as the sun came up, so did the waves so now the gentle rocking had become more intense as we continued our journey closer to land. 

By mid-morning we were sailing again heading south east at a sedate but comfortable speed until the wind died in the late afternoon and on came the iron sail again!   We motored throughout the night in a glassy sea, where the millions of stars were reflected in the water we cut through.   It was a magical last night at sea after a challenging passage, even if the motor was on.  

The wind increased a little during the day but not enough to turn off the engine while still maintaining speed to ensure we arrived in Opua in daylight.   We motor sailed, enjoying good speed, and cleared Cape Wiwiki on Purerua Peninsula and passed the historic town of Russell making 7knots under full jib, charging towards Opua in fading light.    As we furled the jib and continued motoring towards the dock, we heard a “Whoop Whoop” and cheering from the shore.   Steve and I were both surprised and over-joyed to see Steve’s mum and sister, rugged up against the chilly wind, standing on the bank close to the marina, waving furiously as we chugged by on our way to the quarantine dock.   Sadly we were unable to hug them as the quarantine dock is separated from the mainland and we had to remain there until check-in formalities were complete, which would start in the morning.

We had arrived.   Over 20,000nm under our keel, 37 countries visited and a lifetime of memories created.  As we stepped onto New Zealand soil for the first time, a huge sense of achievement and emotion overwhelmed us.    This marked the end of an almost four year adventure and we had achieved what we had originally set out to do, but now our future is uncertain except for the certainty that more long distance sailing will continue to be part of our lives with many more adventures to come!