Landfall Australia

This breaching Humpback welcomed us into Autralian waters

After the wind swung and the seas built we were effectively booted out of Huon Island.  It was against our will, as we loved it there and I could have happily spent weeks counting and photographing the nesting birds.  Then the wind stayed in the SSW so we could not stop at Chesterfield Reef which was likely to be another amazing wildlife spot.  So we had a week at sea with perfect sailing breezes, but we couldn’t set full sail and carry on because that would have meant making landfall in Australia on a weekend and the officials make it prohibitively expensive when that happens.  So we continued to shorten sail and leisurely make our way west.  Our autopilot motor finally died shortly after the wind died, so we had to tie the tiller and hand steer more than usual.  We could have arrived two days earlier than we did, but managed to slow ourselves down enough to arrive at midnight on a Sunday.

Our arrival into Australian waters was heralded by a wonderful show.  Lots of breaching, pectoral slapping and breeding Humpback Whales!

It is hard to believe that this amazing adventure has come to an end, for now anyways.  We have mixed emotions as we start preparing to leave Narama for a while.  What a magnificent journey it has been!

Lunch at sea

Our sea berth, the lee cloth holds us in bed.

Trip Stats  Luganville, Vanuatu to Bundaberg, Autralia

Days on passage:  10.5
Total distance: 1101 nm
Average 24 hour run: 98 miles
Best day: 143 miles (en route to Huon Island)
Worst day: 77 miles (en route to Bundaberg, when we had to slow down)
Engine Hours:  42.7
Number of Humpback Whales seen en route:  12
Most interesting Bird Species: Southern Giant Petrel

Thank you for following us on Narama's Voyage

Passage to New Caledonia

From the Sketchbook

Did I really say that we would have nice sailing in my last blog entry?  Superstitious sailors should know better than to tempt fate!

Whew!  We made it!  Our passage from New Zealand was a tough one, in fact it was the roughest weather we’ve had consistently on a passage.  It blew between 15 and 40 knots, but was over 25 most of the time.  It grew rather tedious with big seas, regularly slamming the side of the coach-house and splashing across the cockpit.  One wave managed to come through the cockpit at just the right angle at just the wrong time.  We had the cover over the hatch open and the wave planted itself into the quarter-berth where Heidi was sleeping at the time.  That was a rude awakening and has never happened to us before!  At least this passage was relatively fast.  It took us 7 ½ days and we still had lots of fresh fruit and veg left on our arrival as our appetites weren’t up to eating much!

There’s no species list to report for this passage; Heidi didn’t pick up binoculars to look at seabirds until we entered the pass into the lagoon.  When she doesn’t feel like looking at birds, than that means things are serious!

Here’s a few stats from the trip…

Opua, New Zealand to Noumea, New Caledonia

Narama stats:
Total distance: 884 nm (nautical miles)
Best 24-hour day:  138 nm
Worst day: 103 nm
Average day: 120 nm
Average speed: 5 knots
Highest winds: 40 knot gusts
Sail changes: 6 (includes reefing, but not furling for squalls)
Sails used: between 1 and 3 reefs in the main; furling jib and storm jib
Ships sighted: 4
Engine hours: 4.6 (port to port)

Damage sustained: One bent stanchion and a cracked stanchion base (stainless).  Also, we ripped our cockpit side-covers: the bungy cords on the bottom released pressure, but not fast enough.  Oh yeah, and Heidi’s ego.

Landfall Opua, New Zealand

Highest point on Minerva Reef?

We finally had to tear ourselves away from Tonga, the hurricane season is approaching and we are getting excited about all the hiking we would like to do down south.  We had a dramatic first day at sea when a thunderstorm overtook us.  The torrential rain and wind was one thing, but I came a little unglued when I watched lightning strike about 200m behind the boat.  That’s close, too close!!!  The next three days were light sailing and we even had to motor to get into Minerva Reef.  This was an interesting stop.  Minerva is actually two reefs (north and south; we stopped at North Minerva) with the coral forming a ring like an atoll, but there’s no actual land.  Not a palm tree or even a shrub to be seen.  The reef makes for a protected anchorage, but without land in sight it feels like you’re anchored in the middle of the ocean.  At high tide when the seas are rough it gets a little bouncy, but still pleasant.  We had a few days to soak up the experience and walked on the reef at low tide as it dries out, with only the surge of the waves washing across the reef which is nearly half a mile wide. 

Heidi enjoying the easy sailing

We were not the only yacht holed up here, but all five boats left together as the weather “window” had opened.  The passage to New Zealand can be rough and has a notorious reputation, so there was lots of discussion and every GRIB file and weatherfax was analyzed by all of us novice forecasters.  For the very fast yachts it’s a little easier to decide when to leave, but for us small and slow craft, it can be dicey.  It isn’t the conditions as you depart that are the worry but the chance of a strong low pressure or frontal system as you get further south, where the storms pack more punch.  Well the weather gods were with us and we had a lovely passage!  In fact we had our spinnaker up for 2 days of light wind sailing.  It was the first passage where we sailed in sight of other boats the whole time (ie Narama kept up with bigger yachts!).  We enjoyed seeing dolphins and albatross again, in fact the wildlife increase the further south we sailed.

Some passage stats:

North Minerva Reef to Opua New Zealand distance:  800 nm

Best 24 run for Narama:  126nm

Worst run: 106

Time sailed:  7 days

Engine hours:  14

Sail changes:  10

Exploring the tidepools of Minerva Reef

Landfall Hiva Oa, Marquesas

“At once the new starlight walked the water, leaving a footpath of silver to run between me and the east like a life line through the multitudinous creases in the palm of the sea’s black out-stretched hand.”

--Laurens van der Post.

Our first impressions were the smells of earth, plants and flowers and decay and the sights of so many brilliant colours – the greens of lush jungle and vived red hibiscus. Once the anchor was down friends from “Pipistrelle” came over to welcome us and then presented us with some fresh fruit and a bit of bubbly to celebrate! We went ashore toute suite for a hike in the hills along a stream to work some muscles and our lungs – not at lot of cardio in 33 feet of space!

So far we’ve enjoyed eating the daily bagettes and so much fresh fruit: bananas brought by the bunch, pamplemouse (sweeter than grapefruit and so huge!) Refreshing showers of rain and lot’s of water to wash with and beautiful friendly people. Our only frustration is that Spanish comes out whenever we open our mouths and now we need français. But Heidi’s highschool French is returning in leaps and bounds, whenever we hitch hike into town!

Trip stats from Galapagos to Hiva Oa:

Distance: 2941 nautical miles (nm)

Time: 25 days

Average distance in 24 hours: 120 nm

Best day: 155 nm

Worst day: 84 nm

Sail changes: 41

Flying fish on deck: 48

Water consumed: 210L

Engine running hours: 16.3 (about 32L of fuel)

Loaves of bread baked: 11 (all but one were made by Stevo!)

A very dirty boat after 25 days of sailing hard

Life at Sea

25 days at sea without sight of land might seem like an awfully long time, but it depends on your perspective. Our longest passage took 31 days in 2004 from New Zealand to Tahiti and honestly a couple days doesn’t make much difference – we are still really happy to see land! Our isolation on Narama is even more profound as we have very limited communication onboard. Our VHF Radio rarely gets turned on, unless we can actually see another ship or sailboat as its range is limited. We have an SSB receiver which lets us get weather forecasts via either a voice recording or we can plug the audio into the laptop and some lovely software turns a bunch of clicks and beeps into a weather fax image. Our SSB also lets us listen to Radio Australia from Suva and to the “Radio Nets” that other yachties often use to chat and relay weather and positions. Out little unit does not allow us to transmit, so we are really just lurking on the sidelines and not participating in these nets. While listening we learned that nearly everyone has a pet name for their autopilot. Our windvane is “Ernest” and he steers the boat 95% of the time on passage. Our electric autopilot is “Parson Brown” and gets put to work whenever we are motoring.


We found that having a routine helped to make the days go by faster. The first four days or so every moment off watch is spent napping, then it seems our body gets used to the schedule and doesn’t need as much sleep. So what do we do with our time? Well of course there’s the actual sailing of the boat. You have to keep an eye on Ernest since he steers by the direction of the wind, if the wind swings, so do we. But a casual glance at the compass and a quick scan of the horizon for traffic every few minutes is really the required watch activity. Add to that the occasional sail and vane adjustments and there’s still time to read a book or cook a meal. We also keep a rather detailed “logbook” which really reads more like a ship’s journal. We note the weather, our speed and direction in a table every four hours as well as our noon position and a few other important stats. Otherwise we often note all sorts of very “unofficial” details: wildlife: whales and birds and even flying fish (especially if they land on deck), the moon, stars, general mood of the crew and and what we eat, etc. It’s often quite interesting to start a watch and read what the other has written, especially if there’s been serious star-gazing and philosophizing.

Other shipboard routines include our daily happy hour drink. Conditions have to be pretty rough for us to go without it, sometimes it’s just a glass of juice, usually it involves brandy. We also have a daily “bucket bridage” on the foredeck. There’s not enough fresh water storage on Narama for us to have showers, so every morning (usually at the 10 AM watch change) we head to the foredeck with a bottle of shampoo and a bucket. In this hot tropical climate it is very pleasing to tip buckets of sea water on each other’s head. We then get a couple of cups of fresh water to rinse off a bit of the salt and this keeps us from going “feral”.

Aside from all this, reading is probably the most common activity (next to sleeping). Our most common conversation topic is definitely the weather, followed by the boat itself. Life at sea isn’t too bad really, it’s just tedious when the seas are rough and you can’t use two hands to do anything (one is holding on!).

A few quotes from our logbook:

April 14: “We’re now bouncing along under 3 reefs and a little bit of jib. I’m guessing that the large convection cells and wind against tide are keeping the seas rough.”

April 17: “Happy hour and full moon rise as sun set. Seas slowly easing and we’re making just over 4 knots.”

April 26: “Dreary drizzle, dolphins diving with dashing dexterity in the dark depths, drawing dazzling designs with diamonds.”

April 27: “One of those nights when staying awake seems impossible. Walk from the cockpit to the galley and back again, over and over. Eat a piece of chocolate and still my head wants to lie on any surface available. Meanwhile Stevo snores like a trooper and makes me insanely jealous!”


We caught a Tuna!

Passage to Galapagos

Fresh Food for nearly 2 weeks

 I am a hands-on kind of person and not a voracious reader like Heidi, so when it comes to filling the few spare hours a day Heidi is far more attuned than I. That said I have chewed my way through “Beak of the Finch” at an evolutionary rate. It was a fascinating read but the concepts a little sleep provoking. Depending on the day, the motion of the boat, the heat, decides how much we rest. On a rough day just lying down to relax the muscles is a welcome relief at the end of a four hour watch. Thanks to Deborah and Rolf on “Northern Light” we have changed our watch rotation which is working well. For example one day Stephen does 0200-0400, 1000-1400, 1800-2000 (dog watch to alter the rotation each day) and 2200- 0200. This day he is also responsible for cooking. So that gives us each a day rest from the galley, and we look after ourselves for breakfast.

Narama´s Airconditioning System

To occupy time otherwise there is sailing, this can be a full time occupation in light air when Ernest (he’s our steering vane) can’t cope or if sail changes are required. At other times we may not touch anything for four hours. A curiosity with wildlife, trying to pull apart the different shearwaters is a little more difficult than the obvious red footed boobies. One night we sported a booby as a figure head on the pulpit. At least that was until I lost concentration and gibed the blooper sending him into the water. He was not too pleased considering the squawk I received, but took to the air and resettled on the solar panels aft where they usually take up residence after several fly bys and where they leave a pile of feathers and shit for me to clean up in the morning. Fortunately for Heidi, she can’t reach the solar panels. But we don’t shoo them away as they keep us company on our night watches.

Learning about the heavens above and how to derive our position from them is also a hobby and keeps the grey matter ticking. After much deliberation over pilot charts and recent ocean current information from fellow cruisers, our plan was to cross the Gulf of Tehuantepec in a reasonable weather window cutting across from Salinas toward Puerta Madero and veering offshore once we got past around 94W, then head for 90W 5N to make our easting before dropping down to Galapagos at 89.5W 1S.

This went to plan fairly well, and as expected we had calms, and adverse currents. In hindsight we may have done better to gain more easting before crossing the Inter Tropical Convergence Zone (ITCZ). The ITCZ is an area where one can expect calms, increased convection causing thunderclouds, hence squalls and rain. It was quite wide and active as we passed so we had an exciting two days. The smaller clouds producing just a bit of wind and lots of rain were great, the first we have seen in over a year of cruising and we made the most of it, rinsing everything including our naked bodies. The more intense squalls came through at around 30-40kns with the wind waves calmed just a little by the associated downpour. It was quite the experience. We motored in calms as we dared to burn part of the 200L of diesel we carry and sat out others. Sitting out one of these calms only a couple of hundred miles off the coast of Guatemala we had two visits. One, by some shark fisherman who actually came over and asked if everything was OK, how nice! The other was a US Navy surveillance plane with one of those big domes on top. They actually did a low fly by on two consecutive days. Would be great to get the photos that I am sure they took!?

Our last day was the best sail with the wind filling from the east and we sailed right in close past Genovesa one of Galapagos outlying islands, how tempting the cove of its caldera looked to stop in, but rules are rules and we sailed on to San Cristobal for a friendly entry with agent Bolivar. We also crossed in to the southern hemisphere this day and paid our due respects to Neptune.

Few stats for the trip

Total Distance: 1187nm noon to noon as crow flies 1253nm by GPS

Number of Days: 15

Average Miles/Day: 79.4

Best Day: 107

Worst Day: 47

Number of sail changes: 55

Engine run time during calms: 72hrs

Water used: 140L
Hottest/coolest temp: 25/30.5 C

Galapagos Shearwater

Species List

Pantropical Spotted Dolphin

Spinner Dolphin
Pink-footed Shearwater
Black Storm-Petrel

Brown Booby

Bottlenose Dolphin

Red-necked Phalarope

Nazca Booby

Pomarine Jaeger

Galapagos Shearwater

Sooty Shearwater

Red-footed Booby

Laughing Gull

Wedge-rumped Storm-Petrel

Madeiran Storm-Petrel

Swallowtail Gull

Magnificent Frigatebird