Grey, Grim, Rough, Tough and Relentless! Our Final Passage Across the Pacific!

The first half of our passage to Australia was miserable and wet both inside and outside the boat. We had set off from Port Vila on Tuesday 26th July 2022 with a good forecast, blue skies and sea, so we were looking forward to a pleasant downwind passage for the last 1300 nautical miles across the Pacific Ocean.

On our final day in Port Vila, Vanuatu we had hired a driver called Jason who drove us around the small rural island of Efate. Firstly we visited the Blue Lagoon and had fun on rope swings.

Followed by a delicious fruity breakfast served by Jason.

We also stopped at the intriguing Hot Springs which are being dug out by a single man with a vision. There is no volcano on Efate, just the Springs which were an extensive hot boggy area that Paul was trying to make into a health spa!

Later, we stopped at the renowned waterfalls and walk at Mele, but we found that they were still closed and it seemed that Vanuatu wasn’t quite ready for tourism to return, mainly due to cash flow problems caused by a 2 year break from visitors. So Jason showed us his village instead and we enjoyed a final beer at a beach bar before we headed back to the boat to prepare for our passage.

On the morning of departure we visited the market for fresh produce and customs for clearance and finally cast off at about 1100 am in sunshine and a light breeze. As night fell dark clouds gathered and a lightening storm was visible in the distance which very soon became an all surround light show reminiscent of a crazy 70’s disco. There was not much wind, but a deluge of rain soaked us even under the Bimini (canvas cockpit cover), we remained cheerful expecting the usual morning tropical sunshine to dry our clothes and raise our spirits. However, the next day and following four days remained cloudy with leaden grey skies and battleship grey seas, even the birds were grey as they swooped around the boat, frightening me in the night with harsh calls that made me think someone had stood on a cat! The waves became bigger and the sea rougher as the wind increased to a steady 25 knots. The problem was that the wind also backed to the south and so we needed to sail with the wind and seas on our beam(side). Think about walking on a windy day, and remember what a difference it makes with the wind behind you pushing you along, compared to on your flank pushing you over. The nights were very dark because it was a new moon and the thick clouds blanketed out any light from the milky way, so there was no rapturous star gazing, glorious sunrises or splendid sunsets, just a miserable 3 hours on watch. Imagine standing on a roller coaster in the dark with only a steering wheel and speedo visible and no idea where you are heading, up or down or round and about and then a bucket of water hits you and someone stands on the cat! We were thrown about constantly by the waves which occasionally hit the side of the boat pushing it over as well as soaking the person on the helm. Fed up with getting soaked, I unearthed my big Gill offshore sailing jacket, and I wore long trousers at night, because it had become much cooler. The wind increased to 30+ knots and the Bimini started to tear so we had to get that down and mend it, and the boat was getting tipped over so far as it slooged down a wave and screwed up to windward that we were wearing life jackets and tethers in the day as well as night, which we always do.

Time was spent on watch, doing chores or best of all lying down, even sitting on the loo was at a difficult angle and likely to be thrown off mid proceedings!! Worse still, with the decks constantly awash, the boat started to leak through the hatches and deck fittings. All our clothes were soaked, plus my side of the bed, luckily I had already moved out to a downhill berth in a spare cabin, snuggled between the cockpit cushions and the spinnaker bag so I didn’t roll about. However, the cupboard on that side of the boat also had water coming into it and that was full of clean sheets and towels which were also soaked. Water was coming up through the floor boards as we heeled over and the water spilt out of the bilges into our spares and stores. With no sunshine our solar panels were unable to charge the batteries, so we helmed as much as possible, and I regained my Popeye arms, but we still needed to run the engine for a few hours a day. Another problem which Richard had tried to fix was the electric start /stop button for the engine was dead, so starting the engine involved taking the side of the housing and attaching a wire to the starter motor solenoid. When the second wire touches the terminal it kicks the engine off with a loud bang and a spray of sparks. This startled me and I got told off for screaming when Richard showed me how to do it! In my defence, I was feeling very tired and totally pissed off with sailing and the boat breaking down, so screaming and weeping seemed a good option. Frankly, I would have thrown the towel in there and then but there weren’t any dry ones to be had! Besides, there is literally no escape from a small boat crossing a big ocean, we only saw 3 cargo ships in the entire 1248 mile passage to Cairns. We reached our halfway point on Saturday 30th July, and the sun came out which made everything a more cheerful blue colour despite the waves increasing to a monstrous 10 metres high. Richard thought the ocean was “magnificent , majestic and awesome”, I added a few different adjectives, in short "Eek"! Our course towards Cairns was not a straight line because there are many offshore reefs to avoid, so we had to navigate carefully around these.

For a couple of nights the sparkling stars reappeared and shooting stars skipped playfully across the heavens, the down side was it illuminated the looming dark mountains of water topped by frothing white foam that chased us along! The roar of these waves and wind was an assault to the senses and the cockpit was also caked in a lot of salt. In the day the person on the helm could catch the wave and surf it, which is both exhilarating and terrifying as you wildly fly along gripping the wheel with white knuckles to maintain some fraction of control. Sometimes, a wave would knock the boat to a crazy angle and then rush away roaring into the night. The only company we had were a few birds who decided to roost on the boat and performed several reconnoitre flights across the cockpit, one even tried to land on Augustin’s head!

The worst moment in the dark was when I suddenly got walloped on the side by a flying fish, and the ensuing performance as I tried getting it out of the cockpit, accompanied by my latest shrieking soundtrack had Richard in stitches! We finished the trip with a couple of calmer days, so out went the fishing line, which resulted in a fishing injury as we caught something something large enough to snap the 25 kg breaking strain line which then whipped back through the cockpit and across my face. Disgruntled, I reclaimed my vegetarian status, but had to eat my words when I was served the delicious Bonito that the boys managed to catch shortly afterwards.

We were all exhausted by the time we arrived at Euston Reef, and turned into Grafton Passage through the Great Barrier Reef at 0100 hours on Wednesday 3rd August, but we had a few more hours of upwind sailing before we entered the river at dawn.

We finally tied up in Marlin Marina, Cairns at 0710 hrs to wait for customs clearance, bio-security and immigration to allow us entry to “The Land Down Under”. It is exactly 40 years since Richard and I lived and worked in Perth, W.A, and visited Brisbane but we did not travel any further north. A friend recently sent me this very old picture taken in 1982 at an ashram in Brisbane with his sister, Diane Saraswati.

We are so pleased to have arrived in Australia, 18806 nautical miles sailed since we left home. We have sailed 11368 miles of those in the Pacific and finally crossed the largest ocean in the world, only two years behind our original schedule. I clearly remember the excitement as the gates of the Milleflores lock on the Panama Canal opened to us on 3rd February 2020 and we arrived into the Pacific Ocean, and here we are alongside in Cairns.