Sailing Log

  • Captains Update – December 4, 2024

    The Boat Yard Vava’u, Kindgom of Tonga 18 64.467S 173 99.342E

    Well, it has been a minute and there is much to talk about. Shortly after our last update, we hauled out Tartaruga in the local boatyard here in Vava’u, Tonga after our beautiful stay in Nuiatoputapu. The list of items grew over the months since we purchased her, and of course, there are always surprises. Here’s the captains update.

    How do you get the boat out of the water?

    There are two primary machines that haul out boats like ours. The first type is called a travel lift, which is the machine used in Mexico. It uses two slings moved by powerful winches on each side of the boat. The other type is a trailer that is driven into the water, where very powerful hydraulic rams drive legs up to the hull of the boat. The operator has complete control of each leg and the height of the entire trailer. This is what they use here in Tonga. This is step 1 in the process of a haul-out.

    Work begins

    After the boat is secure on the trailer, they move it up the ramp with a large tractor. Upon reaching a designated area, they stop so that the hull can be pressure washed. This is typically a messy job but necessary to get a clear look at the hull. After about 2-3 hours, this job is done, and then they move the boat to the area where the work will be done.

    Tartaruga on the hard.

    Next comes placing the boat on the hard stand in the area the yard has determined to put her for the duration of our stay. This is a pretty straightforward process, where they place blocks of wood on the keels, level the boat fore and aft, and finally hold that level with adjustable stands. Tami and I chose to stay on the boat during our time on “the hard,” so this level is important.

    The list brings surprises

    The next surprise came: the antifouling paint, which protects the bottom of the boat from the elements of the sea, was quite literally falling off. We were not sure why this was happening. One thing is for sure—we cannot leave it this way, so it must be scraped off. This will take time, hand-scraping the entire bottom of a 45ft catamaran.

    Simultaneously, I was pulling the props to get a look at the real purpose we hauled the boat: our leaking propeller shaft seals. We had replacement seals onboard and hoped this would be an easy fix. Surprise number 2: the prop shafts were scored very badly. We had to either have the shafts resurfaced, which is not something that can be done locally, or we had to use a surface sleeve. We found a product called Speedi-Sleeve that allowed us to press this sleeve over the damaged area, thus leaving a perfect surface for the seals to mate to. The good news is these sleeves are available in New Zealand. The bad news is shipping a 2.2 lbs package from NZ would cost twice the amount of the sleeves themselves. No option here—we placed the order.

    The next piece of the puzzle was repainting our sugar scoops and applying a non-skid surface. The boat came with a foam-based fake teak that had its own adhesive, which of course didn’t hold well at all. We prefer a product called Awl Grip, but that was not available here in Tonga. What we could get was your basic white sand, which makes the surface kind of like a skateboard deck.

    To shorten the story a bit, as you must be as bored reading it as I am typing it, it took a month to bring all this together. The shipping of the Speedi-Sleeves from New Zealand took three weeks and 10 minutes to install. It took me two weeks to sand off the old layers of paint on the sugar scoops, but we fell short of having enough paint. So that project is maybe half done. The bottom of the boat took about three weeks to scrape, sand, and repaint. We found out during the process that the boat originally had Coppercoat but had been painted over—a big bummer.

    So it was back in the water, in the reverse order I described above. We still have a boatload (get it? “boatload”) of work to do. But at least we are in the water where the sea breeze is nice, and we are close to town. Now the toilet stopped working… It is always the crapper!


  • Captain’s Update – September 16, 2024

    On a mooring in Vava’u, Kingdom of Tonga – 18 66.032S 173 98.303W

    Departure

    We left Niuatoputapu on September 10, 2024, at the break of dawn. There were three monohulls and us on a southern passage to Vava’u. The forecast was for eastern winds at 15-20 knots with a mild swell of 2 meters at 7 seconds. They call it a forecast for a reason. Here is the captain’s update for our journey.

    After we exited the pass, we were met with rather nasty seas and the wind pretty much on par. We had to motor for a bit into the wind to clear the island so we could turn south and sail on. We set the first reef on the main and deployed the full genoa, making 7-8 knots of boat speed. Then a strange sight appeared as I gazed up to see how the trim looked on the mainsail.

    Some Excitement

    The mainsail had a huge pocket and was protruding through the stack pack. This is not normal! I went forward and noticed the reefing line was loose, a perfect explanation. So, I proceeded to tighten it, and wow, did it ever pull so easily. So easily, suddenly I had the end of the line in my hands. Damn it – the line broke. We quickly acted and installed the second reef. But this was not a long-term solution.

    Let’s Go

    We quickly found ourselves in the 4-5 knot range. We needed to be at a 6-knot average to make Vava’u by the next morning. So, we did something we have not done on Tartaruga – deployed a full mainsail. Problem solved, we were now making 8-10 knots and were working to slow the boat. This proved to be an exercise in futility. Then, of course, the wind decided to crank up to 25kn. Everything I tried seemed to speed the boat up. We decided that we would just ride this out.

    All through the night, I worked at trimming the mainsail and bleeding off some speed. Finally, at around 2 AM, I had some success – a steady 7-8 knots. This was plenty to meet our sail plan to arrive in Vava’u in the morning.

    Sissy Relaxes

    As dawn broke, we could easily see Vava’u. What a beautiful sight! I was very happy we made it without breaking anything else, including Tami and me. Sissy was none too happy, but as we entered the lee of the island, the winds dropped, the swell dropped, and so did Sissy for some much-needed sleep.

    In the end, we averaged 6.7 knots and arrived in 27 hours, beyond our former record. We stowed the sails and cranked up the motors to navigate the pass into the pass into the harbor, hoping to find a mooring as the anchoring is very deep in most locations.

    We were lucky as three boats passed us while we were entering the harbor. We found a mooring quite easily. Tami is an expert at grabbing the line and hooking us up. Just like that, we were done and ready for sleep. This is the location where we will spend cyclone season, the location we will haul the boat and get some much-needed repairs completed.

    The place we will get to know Tonga and its people – we can hardly wait.


  • Captain’s Update – August 30th, 2024

    At Anchor Nuiatoputapu, Tonga 15 56.335S 173 46.045

    Sailboats at anchor in Nuiatoputapu Tonga
    Nuiatoputapu, Tonga

    For this update we are departing Apia Samoa and sailing to Tonga. Before departure there is a fair bit of work we do, in preparation to sail in the open ocean.

    Blue and Pink Jobs

    We both have our own areas, Tami calls them “blue jobs” and “pink jobs.” In short, the blue jobs check and test every system on the boat and their redundant pieces. For example, we have two autopilot drive units, and both are checked for functionality. Particular attention is paid to known problems we have not yet been able to update. Tartaruga has two leaky seals on her sail drives (these are the same as outdrives on an inboard/outboard system.) This is letting salt water into the drive, but no lubricant is being emitted into the sea, more updates on this later. Everything was either good or fixed, so we are ready to go. Next comes check out.

    Checking Out

    Every time we leave a country we must check out. This typically means we stop by immigration for passport stamps, customs for our country clearance forms and the local port authority for any fees they might want to collect for, such as anchoring. It usually doesn’t take long to be honest, just part of traveling this way. Samoa is no exception and we powered through quickly just before departure.

    Time to go

    Tami pointing at the sun beaming through the clouds

    We left the harbor at around 1200hrs on August 28, 2024 for a planned 36-hour sail to Tonga. The first part of the journey had us in the lee of Samoa, so we really had no wind to speak of and had to use our motors. While the flat seas are always welcome, quite frankly we can sail much faster than we can motor. The motor boat adventure didn’t last long.

    Once we passed in between the islands of Upolu and Savai’i, we found ourselves in the wind and we could cut the motors and set sail south to Tonga. The winds forecast was for 18kn from the east and for the most part it is what we sailed in. The swell was another matter. Although it was only 6ft-7ft, the peaks (we call the period) were only 6 seconds apart and smashing against the side of Tartaruga. We get regular updates on the weather and sea state both online and from our weather router. She handled it like a champ, delivering an average speed of 6kn for the 180nm trip. At one point the wind picked up suddenly to 24kn and she showed us 12kn of boat speed. We are getting better at tuning the sails on her. At this point our typical sailing speeds are at the very top of what Animal Cracker was delivering, under similar conditions – this is a good update. Just as the sun setting was setting on the 29th – land ho.

    We made eye sight of a dormant volcano, Tafahi, about 25 miles away. We knew Tafahi was only about 4nm north of our destination, Nuiatoputapu Tonga. This also meant we would be arriving after dark. While entering a reef pass in the dark is not normally something we would ever attempt, we were prepared for this – at least on paper. We had tracks from our friends Warren and Erica, the YouTube super duo of WE Sail. Additionally, we knew from their entry that the lights were operational so in theory this made the night entry possible.

    Night Entry

    While most people might think this is a no brainer because they come from a country that has many channel marks and lights, that is not always the case. The idea is at the very far end of the pass is a set of range lights. On your chart there is typically a center line to the pass marked. So you approach the center line of the chart, via gps, and then align the two lights at the far end and voila you are pointed straight down the center of the pass. Well not so fast, as we approached, in the pitch black night, I was expecting the range lights to be white lights, we finally figured out they were red and not only red they are flashing red lights just like the lights that mark the port side of the reef! So we need to update our thinking.

    After a couple circles at the entry I was able to see the difference in the red lights. The range lights were flashing much faster and the two appeared very close together. So we began, inching very slowly towards to pass. I’m at the helm using the lights and the tracks we have while Tami is inside watching the gps position of the boat on a premarked path. Slowly and carefully we approach a point we can no longer turn around, no room. We feel the seas calm, we know we are inside the reef pass. Meter by meter we move forward, Tami calling out our alignment via GPS and I watching the lights. Finally we make it to the last channel mark – we made it.

    At this point we make a quick turn and head for the anchoring location, again under the cloak of darkness. We find an open space, at a good depth, and set the anchor. Perfect, it sets the first try. We set our anchor alarms that will alert us if the boat drags. We made it, not something we want to make a habit of but it is good to know we can work together and get the job done. At least it wasn’t raining.

    We are in Tonga, country number 7.


  • Captain’s Update – August 20,2024

    Apia Harbor, Western Samoa 13 49.702S 171 45.862W

    Tartaruga and her crew are nestled in a Apia harbor, shielded from the relentless swell of the Pacific Ocean and the trade winds that guide our journey. We’ve experienced a few days of gusty winds, reaching up to 25 knots at times. This isn’t much different from American Samoa, except here we experience very little fetch.

    Yesterday, we reconnected with a friend we met in American Samoa many weeks ago, Arthur. What a great guy! He generously offered us the use of one of his cars while we’re in Samoa. To be legal, I had to get a temporary permit to drive here. It wasn’t a big deal – just 10 minutes and 21 Tala (about $8 USD). This opens up the entire island to us, but there’s one small hurdle we had to tackle.

    In Samoa, they drive on the left side of the road. You can’t call it the wrong side because they believe the right side is wrong. Interestingly, they used to drive on the right side until about 10 years ago. So, there are both left and right-hand drive cars here, and ours is left-hand drive. Another interesting aspect is that some cars are Japanese with the turn signal on the right side of the wheel, while others have it swapped. As a result, you often see windshield wipers running in the turn lane – whoops, another tourist! The traffic circles go clockwise, and I have to reach over my right shoulder for the seatbelt. Not to mention, you have to turn your head left to see the rearview mirror! So far, so good – no wrecks. Keep your fingers crossed for us!

    If you find these updates fun, you can go back and see them all!


  • Captain’s Update – August 15,2024

    Apia Harbor, Western Samoa 13 49.702S 171 45.862W

    Our first site in Apia Harbor as we approached the anchorage.

    As the first light of dawn kissed the horizon, we glided into Apia, Samoa, just as we had envisioned. Our journey began at 3 PM, the previous day, from American Samoa, navigating 85 nautical miles under the cloak of night. In this life, simplicity is an illusion; every step demands its own laborious effort.

    In preparation for our imminent departure from American Samoa, we meticulously tested all systems on our beloved Tartaruga, which had been stationary for over two months. Naturally, issues arose. We had a part fabricated for our steering system and installed it just hours before setting sail. Our starboard motor refused to start, seemingly due to a battery issue. Despite purchasing new batteries after a lightning strike, we still struggled to keep this one charged. We had to remove the battery and charge it on the genset for a few hours, which resolved the problem.

    The previous steering component, poorly made, finally was breaking.
    Before the new fabrication.
    The newly fabricated steering components.
    After fabrication. All solid aluminum pieces, works great!

    As if that wasn’t enough, our Automatic Identification System (AIS) and radio began to randomly power down. Initially, I suspected it was a heat issue, as the battery charger was located directly beneath it. However, further troubleshooting revealed a small short in a splicing terminal I had installed months earlier. Once we replaced it, the system stayed on. What a relief! We were finally ready to embark on our journey.

    The departure from the harbor was slow. After spending two months in very dirty water, the bottom and propellers of Tartaruga were full of growth, making it hard to produce any speed. Plus, the tide and swell were coming straight at us. So, for the first several miles, we had to motor. Eventually, we turned to starboard, and the wind and swell were behind us. Tami and I set the jib in 20 knots of wind and powered off the motors. We sailed the rest of the way, right to the entrance of Apia. Apart from 10-foot swells at an 8-second period (making for a bumpy ride), our trip was uneventful—just how we like them. A new island, a new country, a new process, and new excitement awaited us.


  • Captain’s Update – August 11, 2024

    Pago Pago Harbor, America Samoa 14 16.430S 170 41.569W

    We are anchored in the bustling harbor of Pago Pago, American Samoa. As I write this, we’ve been here for nearly two months—an eternity for a cruising boat. What brought us here has kept us here. Our new boat needed some additional parts, especially solar panels, which we could order since this is a United States territory. Additionally, we were dangerously low on provisions when we arrived, and this island provided us with an exceptional opportunity to restock the boat. These things have come to pass; the boat is stocked, and the panels are on board. Our departure is imminent.

    Our next stop in this journey without definition will be Apia, Western Samoa, roughly 85NM away. I long to get the sails up and the boat moving with the seas. Our stay here has been full of joy and pain.

    We leave behind our beloved Tessie. We will miss her as we move on. But we know she is here with us, along with Dingo and Momo—we move forward together.