Cruise of the Ketch Julia

[Thad]

Carry on! Wonderful. Thanks.

[Hwyl]

My Saturday morning surprise.

[John B]

I'm sorry you missed Fulaga but Makogai is one of my favourites.
I edited out a few comments because I thought they were probably too much( not my thread) but I'll just revist Makogai because I remembered my avatar pic was taken there in 10 or 11 when I first visited.
There is a certain gravitas about the place because of its history and it was a thriving village with families in numerous houses living there , all involved with the sanctuary and turtle breeding program. We were able to walk a track through what seemed like jungle up the North Eastern shore of the bay and the feeling as the old concrete building shells emerged was quite an experience. Numerous halls and task specific concrete buildings , and one beautiful vine draped and decayed chapel. I didn't return until 2017 and Cyclone Winston had been through in 2013, pretty much a direct hit on Makongai on its path across the group. The village was gone, just a few buildings left. When I asked the only resident left( a caretaker ) about the old buildings as above he knew nothing about them. We tried to get there but the track was gone and you literally needed a machete / cane knife to advance at all. Several hundred metres was out of the question. We visited again in 19 and there were about 3 people living there by then and a new cyclone proof building to be a lab being layed out and built.
Its a funny little place with just one primary anchorage but something about it just draws me back. We were bold and used the Northern entance to the lagoon as well as the Western , the main one. I really do love it there.

[Rich Jones]

Breathtaking as always. Thanks once again!

In all the photos of Julia, I see that she has been meticulously maintained even though on a very long voyage. Brightwork looks perfect, rigging not chafed, sails in beautiful shape.
How much time is spent attending to the needs of this lovely lady?

[George Jung]

Took a bit to get 'caught up' - but well worth it!  Wonderful adventure.  Thanks.

[Joe (SoCal)]

OMG This is by far the most SPECTACULAR thread I've read on this forum.

THANK YOU, THANK YOU THANK YOU so much for sharing this adventure with us all.

[Mark0]

Don't forget there is a you tube channel also !

https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCEQ..._g?app=desktop

Cheers,
Mark

[Hugh MacD]

COOL! Thanks! I didn't know about that one! I've been following their thread, but hadn't seen the videos

[Thad Van Gilder]

wow! that's amazing!!!!

[StevenBauer]

Still loving this thread. Thanks so much for sharing.
Jon, have you run into Holly Martin? I think she just arrived in Fiji recently. Her YouTube channel is Wind Hippie Sailing. She has been cruising with her family since she was little, this is her parents book: https://www.amazon.com/Into-Light-Fa.../dp/1930086040. We met her when the book came out 20 years ago, she is the same age as my daughter.




https://youtu.be/dz_ujqGiOTU

[J.Madison]

Thanks everyone. We made it to New Caledonia after a mostly nice passage. Very windy now but we are tucked into a marina to meet customs and immigration. The few degrees of lattitude we gained have broken the intense heat from fiji, and we are loving the cooler weather. New Cal has these tall narrow pine trees along the shore, backed by the intense red soil it is a very unique looking place.

Still loving this thread. Thanks so much for sharing.
Jon, have you run into Holly Martin? I think she just arrived in Fiji recently. Her YouTube channel is Wind Hippie Sailing. She has been cruising with her family since she was little, this is her parents book: https://www.amazon.com/Into-Light-Fa.../dp/1930086040. We met her when the book came out 20 years ago, she is the same age as my daughter.

https://youtu.be/dz_ujqGiOTU

I believe I saw her boat in Denarau as we were leaving fiji, but haven't met her yet.

[auscruisertom]

Great to hear you fetched New Cal safely.
If you have the time the Isle of Pines is worthwhile seeing, and yes more Norfolk Pines ,with a stick marking the pass.

[AJZimm]

From Julia's track on the Predictwind site, it looks like they have approached the coast as close as they dared and have now turned upwind this (very early for them) morning and are heading directly for Moreton Bay and Brisbane. If the wind arrows are correct, it looks like they are thrashing up hard on the wind or are motoring. Neither of which look very comfortable. Hope for their sakes they reach calmer conditions safely, and soon.

[Yeadon]

From the tracker, such a great description of where they came from:

We are nearing the Australian coast, and have started passing a stream of heavy traffic. It’s hard to think that Brisbane and Seattle share the same ocean even though they feel impossibly far apart. The pacific is such a big place. I keep looking astern picturing all the places that lie in our wake, stretching all the way back home. I can picture where we started, down under the sea off the stbd quarter far beyond the curvature of the earth. Ahead an entire new continent looms, though it is still out of sight over the horizon.

Note: I added the bold for emphasis.

[J.Madison]

We have safely arrived in Brisbane, Australia after what was probably the roughest crossing we have had yet. So happy to be anchored snugly in the river, formalities completed and with every type of delicious restaurant right at hand. We are loving Brisbane, but we'll get to that later.

We continued down the chain of the Yasawa islands, the next easy downwind hop brought us to the anchorage in front of the Octopus resort on Waya Island.





Here is a map for some context. Waya is the southern end of the Yasawa group.



We spent a couple days living the easy life at the resort; toes in the sand, pina coladas readily available, and with a spigot of clean drinking water at the top of the beach. All for just the price of the drinks, I did learn what the guests at the resort were paying and it was shocking. Its worth noting that a resort in Fiji is usually a handful of cabanas and a restaurant and dive compressor. Some are a bit bigger, but they are nothing like what you would find in Acapulco or Cabo San Lucas. I would not spend much time anchored in front of those resorts.





One thing I really like about Fiji, is the relationship between the locals and the tourists. In many tropical countries, if a facility is built for the tourists, the locals are pretty much kept away. Usually by a security gaurd. But not in Fiji. They are happy to have the tourists, and they are not at all embarrased to live their lives right alongside. For example this family was loading their boat at the resort beach to head out to a more remote island. And why shouldn't they, it is their island and they loaded boats here long before the resort was built. In the luxury marina at Denarau, the end of the dock containing 10 massive super yachts is used for the same purpose. Local pangas come and go all day, hauling away the mountains of goods coming out of taxis and busses. Families lie on the grass in the shade at the head of the dock while professional yacht crew in starched shirts carefully step around them to organize bunkering helicoptor fuel or whatever it is they do. Its a good vibe.

[J.Madison]

Breathtaking as always. Thanks once again!

In all the photos of Julia, I see that she has been meticulously maintained even though on a very long voyage. Brightwork looks perfect, rigging not chafed, sails in beautiful shape.
How much time is spent attending to the needs of this lovely lady?

We spend time as often as we can on keeping Julia in good shape. However, everything has taken a serious beating in the tropical sun. We have applied several coats of varnish since we left, but it was really too little too late. I think it will need to all come off and start over when we do a proper refit here in Austraulia. Except for the masts, thank god. They had 20+ coats as a base and the 1-2 coats we have added are in good shape still. We touch up the paint every few months, and oil the decks then as well. We did a coat of varnish on the bulwarks while anchored at Octopus. The difficult thing is that the extreme sun and heat just does not allow very many hours of work before you get a splitting headache and melanoma.



I admired the watch aloft on this boat that joined us in the anchorage. That kid has a good life.





We headed out again, starting to really think about the oncoming hurricane season.



The next stop was Yanaya village in the Mamanuca group. We were the only boat and recieved a warm welcome. This was our tour guide, but unfortunately I can't remember her name.



The village was pleasant and clean, with lots of flowers growing. I got the impression it was somewhat more affluent than others we had visited, probably due to the proximity of the tourist hub in Nadi.

[J.Madison]

The town was in the midst of a childrens rugby tournament. A group of guys on a porch overlooking the games invited us to sit with them and watch. We were too chicken to ask for a photo.



Whit made friends with some of the kids who were too young to play in the tournament. Blondes tend to stick out in these villages and draw lots of attention.



At the other end of the beach, these kids played in the water for hours without so much as stepping ashore, they were there when we arrived and still there when we left.



At this point the weather started to get stormy. This was something of a relief as the area had not had proper rain for months. But to us it was another sign of the changing seasons. We rigged up the shade cloth to catch some more water.



The main draw at this anchorage is the island that Cast Away was filmed on, across the bay. But with the shift in wind and arrival of a southerly swell the marginal anchorage became untenable and we just did a drive-by as we escaped to a better anchorage. It is a pretty spot though.

[J.Madison]

The best nearby protection is at Mama island. The only downside is a very convoluted and narrow entrance, and we had overcast skies which makes spotting coral difficult. Luckily the pass was fairly well marked by various pipes and sticks and we made it into the protected lagoon without hitting anything.



This was just an overnight spot for us, as in addition to the changing seasons we had run completely out of cooking gas. With dwindling provisions and no way to cook, civilization started to pull us toward Nadi.

The next day the sun was out and we were able to see what a narrow pass it really was.





We sailed toward Port Denarau in light winds and varying sun and showers.



Denarau is one of those places that hordes of tourists decend on to take "excursions" out to some tropical beach or snorkeling trip. So the islets within striking distance are pretty much set up for the day-boat crowds.



We anchored outside the harbor, as it was entirely full. This meant a 1 mile row in to the marina, which is really quite far. The thunderstorms continued to roll over us, every day had heavy rain and every night lightning. Denarau was a bit of a shock. Many super yachts loomed over the harbor, tourists were everywhere, and the restaurants were overpriced. We basked in the luxury of the pristine showers, and despite the cost we ate three days in a row at the mexican restaurant, the first we had seen since mexico!

[J.Madison]

We quickly tired of the mile-long row into shore, but that is what the sailing rig is for! People really get a kick out of seeing us bob along in our little sailing craft, tacking up the channel to the dock.



The wind clocked around continuously as each squall passed. When it got too bad we scooted over behind the nearby barrier island for some more protection and to continue readying the boat for the ocean passage to come.


The mizzen boom was originally roller reefing, which I hated. So I had riveted the swivel with 3 copper rivets. It held until we neared fiji and I fell hard into the boom when getting a tie on the sail. The torque sheared off the rivets. We unbent the mizzen and took the gooseneck apart to try to fix it.






I replaced the copper rivets with stainless machine screws which I cut and peened over. That should be much stronger than the old ones and didn't require going to shore for parts.

[J.Madison]

We had been watching the wind, and when it fell perfectly calm we went into the harbor for diesel and water. I am very wary of maneuvering in unfamiliar docks in strong winds, especially when needing to hold position waiting for the dock to be free.



The blue water jugs are just the standard water cooler jugs, which are ubiquitous in Mexico for transporting purified water. We ended up with two when we left, and they have ended up being more useful as jerry cans than the expensive ones we bought for the purpose. They are much easier to accurately pour out of, and cost 1/10th as much.





With the tanks full and the list of boat jobs getting shorter, we just needed to go buy groceries and get our check out formalities completed. We caught the bus into Nadi (pronounced "nandi"). This is a colorful and lively place with a great fresh market.





Want some dried fish or kava root?

[J.Madison]

The price of the chicken curry on the chalk board there translates to about $2.50 US. That is a good deal even in Fiji!





We had been watching weather and finally decided the time was right. We scheduled our checkout with customs. Because our boat was so far away, and the agents had no interest in riding there and back in my little dinghy, they had us send pictures of our boat to their whatsapp number. I just thought that was a funny detail.

We paid our fees, avoided the overtime charge for checking out on a weekend by giving our remaining kava root to the customs agent, and we were ready!

This is Wasa, a tiny thing of about 28'. Our friend Paul was heading out just after us, bound directly for Sydney single handed. That is a long passage, and he ended up getting into some pretty extreme conditions before he finally made port 18 days later. If anybody in Sydney sees him, buy the kid a beer from me!



We were bound for New Caledonia, 700 nautical miles away. That is a nice distance for a passage. Its long enough that you can get into the rythm of being at sea, but short enough to have good weather forecasting and not run you down to exhaustion.

We raised the anchor and hoisted sail on a beautiful morning.

[J.Madison]

We left the fringing reef past some lovely little islands that I wish we had time to explore. Next time. In the open sea the breeze freshened a bit and we had good sailing into the night.











The wind went a bit fluky in the night, squalls started appearing around us. We knew the wind was going to get a bit light. When the grib files show a pocket of light wind, it might mean there is no wind, or it might mean that the air is too chaotic to make sense in their model. So calms are frequently shown in troughs and other areas of intense squall activity. Beware the calm....

We pushed on for a few days in conditions that were generally light or calm, but with frequent lightning squalls. Most of the lightning was up in the clouds thankfully.

[J.Madison]

There is a measurement of atmospheric energy that we can download at sea, the CAPE index. One forecast showed it was higher than I have ever seen it. That should have been warning enough, but I don't watch this index much as it is a bit confusing and I am not an expert on it.

We motored for a while to keep moving when the wind dropped away completely. But then a light breeze materialized and we hoisted sail to catch it. Squalls were all around as darkness fell, but it had been that way for days and most of them did not contain a huge amount of wind.





Rain started pouring down, and I saw a large amount of lightning heading our way. This had also become common, but instead of lightning between clouds, these bolts were striking the sea, and often. I should have pulled down sail, but the wind was still light and we were making progress on course. And it was pouring rain....

As the lightning drew near we hid below staying away from metal objects. Lightning is just a game of luck at sea, nothing to do but wait and see. Suddenly the boat started heeling, it went over and over and just kept going. The front hit us sounding like a freight train. It was not a full knockdown, as I'm pretty sure the mast did not hit the water, but we went farther than we have ever gone before. I yanked open the companionway hatch and dumped the mainsheet without leaving the ladder. The scene outside was scary. Where the leeward deck should be was only ocean, whipped white by the speed of the boat and the wind. Torrential rain was blowing completely sideways in the glow of the nav lights, and spray from waves continuously broke across the cockpit and was whipped off downwind. The whole thing was frequently illuminated by lightning. Whitney grabbed our lifejackets, which have harnesses built in, and our tethers. We clipped into the mizzen mast before venturing into the cockpit to get some sail off.

The jib was partially furled, and I tried pulling in the furling line after easing the sheet. It was like an iron rod. No way was I going to get it in by hand. We don't have a dedicated winch for the furling, as it was a late addition, done "on the road." I dumped the jib sheet off the sheet winch, the jib sounded like a machine gun firing as it flogged. The sheet somehow worked out the stopper knot and zipped out of the sheet block and streamed off into the night. Meanwhile I could not get the furling line from it's cleat onto the winch due to the high load, so I had to let the jib completely out to get slack. With the furling line on the sheet winch and Whitney tailing, I was able to winch the sail in a little at a time. When I got it all the way in, the worst of the front had passed, and the boat had more or less regained its footing. We were fore-reaching along at slow speed as the main mostly luffed. We had lost several miles during the event, not that we really cared about that. Of course we were completely soaked through the first instant we stepped outside, so we went below and towelled off. A screaching noise made us jump. I thought it was the bilge alarm, but it was actually a carbon monoxide detector that had been on the counter below the companionway and became somewhat drowned due to the rain and spray.

I have no real idea how much wind we encountered. I would say it was at least 50 kt in the first hit, and that tapered off to a steady 30 kt as the system passed. Maybe I'm way off on that, I don't have much to compare it to. We had one reef in the main and the equivalent of one reef in the jib when it hit. The mizzen was furled. Julia handled it well, all things considered.

The jib sheets were hopelessly tangled, and the UV cover on the luff of the jib shook out some of its stitches and came loose in a few places. The little turning block sewn into the corner of the sail to take the leech line disintigrated. It ripped out of the sail and is completely gone, even though the leech line is still secured and it was captive on the line.



This is the messy furl as seen the next morning. The tail of the sheet shook off its whipping. This was as far as we could furl the sail, it was the tightest furl ever, and we needed a couple more wraps on the drum.



The jib was still usable, but due to the flogging UV cover, we didn't fly it if the winds were over 15 kts for the rest of the passage.



This is Genesis. We have never met a boat at sea this close before. Even when there are a lot of boats in port that all are going the same direction, you never see them at sea. Even the AIS signals fade away pretty quickly as your courses diverge. Anyway he was bound for New Zealand, and apparently was under bare poles when the frontal system hit. That makes him smarter than me.

[J.Madison]

We must have passed out of the trough, because conditions dramatically improved. We finally had a good sailing breeze. It was a bit strong on the beam, but some spray and dipping the leeward deck is no great hardship compared to calms and thunderstorms.









This sky means good tradewind sailing.

[J.Madison]

As we neared New Caledonia, the sky started to look more like this, which means wind is coming and quite a bit of it.







The wind was brisk as we came to the channel through the reef at the south end of New Cal. My tidal information indicated that the tide would be favorable, but somehow it was strongly against us. The current was pushing directly into the stiff breeze that had developed and was raising a chaotic and dangerous sea. It was one of those things that you can't tell is coming until you are already in the middle of it. Julia's double ended form and moderate ends really served us well, as she kept the seas from bording and seemed to react to them before they even reached her. White water broke all around as we went from the deep ocean onto the shallow shelf around the island and the ocean swell ran into that outgoing current.





It was probably only 30 minutes, less for the absolute worst portion, and we popped through into calm waters in the lagoon.

[J.Madison]

We found the shoreline to be very beautiful, and completely unlike Fiji or anywhere else we had been.



The lattitude we had gained had broken the heat of Fiji. We dug out the sweatpants that had been stowed since Mexico. It felt so refreshing to have a slightly cooler breeze, and to be able to wear something other than the bare minimum without sweating. Wearing this in the cockpit also means there is no spray, so pretty much as good as sailing gets.



The wind held strong as we continued around the bottom end of the island. Foreign sailors are required to land first at the capital of Noumea, about 40 miles from the pass where we entered.



Cook's Pines lined the shores, and inland the deep red soil showed through. We passed interesting bays and islands, all seemingly deserted, but we couldn't stop. I wanted to reach Noumea in daylight, as I had heard it was a crowded harbor.

[J.Madison]

With the stiff breeze and flat seas we made good time. The tide switched and finally was in our favor.



We raised our yellow quarentine flag. We didn't have a New Caledonian or French flag on board as we had not decided on this route until late in the game.







Windy!

[J.Madison]

We entered Port Moselle at Noumea just before dusk and struggled to find a spot to anchor. There are clearly defined areas where anchoring is allowed, and they are all completely full of boats on moorings. The marina was also full. What is a foreign sailor to do? We are required to come to this port and no other place. We anchored uncomfortably close to some moored boats, while still sticking out into the busy channel. I burned extra lights all night to keep from getting ran over and we slept.

It was a 6 day passage for us, slow at first and fast toward the end. In all it was a pretty good passage. It felt like we had covered a decent chunk of the world in a relatively short time, and that is a good feeling.

The next morning the marina found a spot for us. The wind was still blasting through the harbor, contrary to my policy about the appropriate time to enter unfamiliar marinas. Julia is meant for crossing oceans, she handles close quarters well enough in a calm, but in a wind with no speed she can be completely unmanageable as the bow insists on blowing downwind no matter what. The underpowered engine and long bowsprit trying to poke everything is a tough combo. But the officials wanted to board the boat, and that was not going to be possible at the far end of the anchorage. We headed in behind the breakwater and the plan was to stay in the main fairway where there was room to turn around and leave if things looked bad. Luckly the spot was one of the better ones to get into, and we made it work despite the pontoon barely reaching amidships before our bowsprit overhung the walkway.



New Caledonia is a French territory (or something like that, I'm a little hazy on the French politics exactly.) Like all French countries clearing in is free and fairly relaxed. Unlike most of the other countries in the region you do not need to give advance notice of arrival. Biosecurity took our honey and a few other items, and then I walked to the immigration office to check in.



Noumea is an interesting place. At first it didn't seem to have much charm. Rather like Papeete in Tahiti, it is the industrial hub of a colonial outpost. Concrete and smokestacks just don't fit very well on beautiful tropical islands. Noumea really boomed in the 60s and 70s when the US war in Vietnam created huge demand for nickel. Millions of tons of island soil was shipped off to be refined, and Noumea itself created coutless tons of the metal. The town and the nickel plant doubled and then doubled again, making huge investments on borrowed money. Of course then the market crashed and Noumea went with it. There is still smoke coming out of the chimneys at the end of town, so I guess they are still at it. The town is decidedly French. Lots of french architecture and bakeries and cafes. This is the first place in the pacific where large luxury goods stores are full stocked, and pretty much anything is available. We really enjoyed the cafes in particular.



This is not exactly something you expect to see in a French town. Its a WW2 memorial.



Fittingly it is across the street from this establishment:


There is a fair amount of older colonial architecture, some of it is quite lovely.



Without speaking the language, it is hard to get a true sense of the dynamic, but I got the distinct impression that the local Kanak people are not exactly thrilled with the French settlers. Maybe its just a cultural thing, or maybe it is just a city thing, but the smiles and bright colors of Fiji were nowhere to be seen. I wish I could have spent time out in the villages to see what life was like there. In the city there were all the things you expect in a city, including a really large police presence.

However, the longer we spent in they city, the more we started to find its charms. In the end we decided it was a rather pleasant, if somewhat conflicted, place.

[J.Madison]

We used the time at the dock to lick our wounds. I sewed the UV cover back onto the jib, doubling up the vulnerable seams. Luckly no fabric was missing, just broken stitches and frayed edges.





With that done we decided to head to the outlaying islets for a few days to wait for a weather window for the next passage.



There are many little sandy cays within a daysail from Noumea. Places that feel a million miles away from the city, at least on weekdays when the local boats are back in port.

[J.Madison]

The water is crystal clear, the reef healthy, and the sand is as fine as sugar.





The islands are covered in what I gather is a somewhat rare species of sea bird. Terns I think, but I don't retain the info on the nature preserve signs very well, as its all in french. They nest in burrows in the ground, so they must be dependant on the remote islets to be safe from predators. Edit: I think they are Bridled Terns.



We could not get over the turquoise hues of the water.

[J.Madison]

This tower was constructed in the late 1800s as a range marker for a pass through the reef. It is aligned with a mountain peak on the big island. Though I looked at the chart and could not figure out which pass it was supposed to mark, so maybe don't use this one for navigation any more.





There was a fairly lovely reef right off the boat.



There were quite a few white tip reef sharks around, the first we have seen. In Fiji they were all black tips that we saw. Perhaps the slightly cooler water is more suitable to the white tip sharks.



There were lots of turtles around.


Oh- and the moorings are free.

[J.Madison]

When the wind was calm we could watch the fish and the coral from the deck of the boat.






At dusk the terns return to the island by the thousands.

[johngsandusky]

Thanks!

[Woxbox]

Really enjoying this. Thanks for the continued journal.

[Rich Jones]

Thanks again for sharing your adventures.
Anyone who thinks that skin-on-frames boats aren't tough should read this thread!
I'm impressed with that little boat.