Fiji Sailing June 2016

Wednesday 1st June 2016

Happy hour on Twocan

Elly and I, along with our friends Geni and Peter departed from Melbourne, via Sydney, to Nadi, Fiji. Nadi is pronounced Nandi, for those not familiar with it.
Our objective was to meet up, at Nadi’s Port Denarau, with Barry and Margaret, friends of Geni and Peter, to join them for two weeks sailing in their lovely catamaran, Twocan.(that is how it is spelt).
Elly and Geni, especially Geni, had purchased massive supplies of food – chicken, cheese, bread etc. along with copious supplies of duty free grog.
To our surprise, the Fiji customs forms were similar to those for Australia, requiring us to tick the box saying that we had food.
As it turned out, Geni was ushered to a desk and thoroughly investigated. This resulted in the confiscation of all the chicken, and all the non Australian cheese that she had in her bags.
Now you may have had some experience trying to take food from a Rottweiler mid meal, which is a similar experience to taking food from Geni. Perhaps that is being unfair, but even so, Geni used to own a Rottweiler!
Finally things were resolved, and we caught a taxi, somewhat lighter, to Port Denarau, where Barry and Margaret met us and escorted us to the “Twocan”, which is a lovely vessel comfortably accommodating the six of us.
After an extended Happy Hour we retired for the night except for Elly and Geni who continued to solve the world’s problems on the deck whilst consuming more scotch than was wise.

Thursday 2nd June.

We decided that we would spend the day shopping for provisions and exploring the small village of Port Denarau, and lusting after some of the floating palaces berthed near us.
We finished the day with dinner at the Sofitel, which was less than fabulous.

Friday 3rd June.
Barry prepared the catamaran for departure whilst the shoppers did some more provisioning. He has three electronic navigation devices, plus one on his iPad and another on his computer. Our plan was to sail west to Malolo Lailai Island and moor at Musket Cove, which has a complex approach between reefs. He had it all plotted out on all his devices, and it all looked pretty good.
Finally we set sail, although we didn’t actually set sail, because of lack of wind! The same can’t be said about the occupants!
We only had one operative engine, as one propeller shaft had been bent, and was only available for berthing manoevering, so we cruised using the good engine, managing about 5 knots.
After a very pleasant three hours cruising, Barry began to prepare for the approach, and reduced our speed somewhat, as he was concerned about possible reefs in the area.

Geni tanning

Marg on watch

We had about 15 metres of water under the vessel, with everything looking good, and Barry asked me to keep an eye on the depth sounder as he went inside to radio ahead for mooring availability.
Elly and I were watching the depth gauge and noticed the reading starting to shallow. At about 10 metres we called to Barry telling him the depth was decreasing rapidly. He rushed to the helm and immediately put the engines in reverse, just as Pete, Geni and Margaret started yelling to stop, as the reef became suddenly visible from the bow.
Next we heard crunching noises as we hit the reef and came to a halt. The catamaran has a draft of 600 mm and we could see the reef below us quite clearly. Everyone had thoughts that this may be the end of our cruise.
Barry had a look at the tides and found that the tide was rising, which was good news.
A small boat with outboard motor came out to rescue us, and towed us off the reef to a mooring.

Rescue 1

Coral reef as seen from the boat

We decided to have some lunch and then assess the damage, so some wine and beer was consumed to help everyone relax.
The charts had been very misleading, and the channel markers were very poor and difficult to interpret.
Barry decided to get into the water and assess the damage, hoping of course that our one remaining propeller shaft hadn’t been damaged.
After a good inspection, it was apparent that no damage had been done, and after some minor repairs to some bits in the aft section which were designed to hit first and protect the rudders and propellers, it was declared to be seaworthy.
Dinner that night was a barbecue on board with everyone quietly breathing a sigh of relief.
Copious quantities of wine and other beverages were consumed, and we finally ended an exciting day.

Sunset near Musket Cove

Saturday 4th June

We spent this day doing very little, having a bit of an explore, and sitting by the pool at the local resort and eating and drinking expensively priced food, obviously with a surcharge for non residents of the resort. We considered $34 for a club sandwich a bit excessive, but by the time we had ordered four of them it was a bit too late!
We have found that Fiji is very expensive.
Another Happy Hour was enjoyed, with the accompanying remorse the next morning, as we observed the number of empty bottles hiding in the nooks and crannies.

Sunday 5th June

Barry, Elly and I decided that we wanted to do a scuba dive. This presented a slight problem, because Barry had not dived for about 3 years, Elly and I had not dived for 30 years!
We had obtained our certificates in Suva, Fiji, when Michael, our elder son, was 2 years old, and we had arranged for a local lady named Mary to mind Michael whilst we were away doing our lessons. Mary had a son of Michael’s age, named Solo, and although Michael cried every morning when we left, he and Solo got on well.
A visit now to the local dive shop at Musket Cove produced an instructor named – Solo!
Of course we asked him whether his mother was named Mary, but it was not to be. Perhaps Solo is like John where we come from.
Solo took us to a small swimming pool at one of the resorts, and ran through a quick refresher on hand signals, mask clearing and other stuff which gradually came back to us, and then it was into the pool with scuba gear on for some familiarisation.

Refresher diving course

That afternoon we all headed out to the dive area, 3 of us with 2 instructors. It was good to know that they appreciated the potential problems of looking after inexperienced geriatrics.Once in the water, I was like a fish out of it!
I was starting to get myself under control, when l felt a hand grasp my wrist. One of the instructors had interpreted my erratic movements as indicating that I required hand holding, I don’t know why!!
Eventually he released me and, although I did enjoy the dive, I had a leaking mask, which I had to stop and clear several times, along with some vertigo as I brought my head down each time I cleared my mask, – this was a really spooky feeling. The vertigo stayed with me for days afterwards, and also, coincidentally, struck Geni severely several days later.
We all managed to survive the dive and, with our log books signed, we are now experienced divers – Ha!

Monday 6th June

Our plans were to sail from Musket Cove, north to Castaway Island to anchor for a night. After our disastrous liaison with the reef at Musket Cove, we rearranged our procedures somewhat. We had been leaving everything up to Barry previously, but it was decided that we could share duties. Peter was Barry’s technical and physical sidekick, and since the computer program had the ability to give us information on the proximity of reefs, I became the en route navigator, calling out course changes from inside the cabin to Barry at the helm. I felt as though I was in a submarine, calling out instructions to avoid reefs and islands which I couldn’t actually see.

Navigator Al

Sailing in Fiji waters is quite difficult as there are reefs everywhere and you can’t let your guard down at any time.

Cruising past many small islands

This journey took us inside a line of reefs, with others scattered either side, and our new system worked well, bringing us into a safe anchorage close to Castaway Island, directly opposite the resort. Every evening Margaret would entertain us with the on board sound system, which seems to have every song ever written, and she knows them all, the lyrics, and the singers and who wrote them.

Tuesday 7th June

This morning we took the dingy to the beach at Castaway, which is a very lovely area, and did a bush walk behind the resort up to the top of the island. That made us hot, so we all came back and slipped into the pool and ordered a beer from the in pool bar, as you do!

View from Castaway Island

Barry & Marg on Castaway Island

For the afternoon we prepared to sail from Castaway further north to Mana Island. The approach to Mana looked a bit tricky, but Barry had spoken to a couple of women who had been sailing the area for years, and he obtained their course details for this sector, which he transferred to his computer, so we could use those waypoints for our route.
The journey went well until we approached Mana, which was only a short time after low tide.
I had us on course until Barry called out that he could take it visually from there. We had a strong crosswind and the channel was very narrow. Barry asked whether we were on the same course as the women had used, and I replied that we were just to the left of it and paralleling.
A few seconds later we hit the reef! Again!
Apparently the crosswind had pushed us sideways on to the reef.
Lots of horrible noises were happening as the left side of the boat impacted the reef. We were once again stuck, and since it was low tide, we faced the prospect of being stuck for hours without knowing how much damage had been done. A major concern was that as the tide rose we would be blown further away from the channel, so Barry bravely decided that he could carry the anchor in the dinghy out to the starboard and drop it there to give us traction as the tide lifted, so we could avoid drifting further left.
As this was happening a boat with a few locals on board came to our assistance. They secured a line to us and powered up their outboard, while one of them jumped into the water and tried to push us off at the stern. With all this pushing and pulling, combined with the waves periodically lifting us, we started to gradually move back towards the channel.
The local boys kept towing us all the way out past the channel entry, leaving the poor guy who was pushing us stranded in the water, standing waist deep on his own, giving us a thumbs up to say he was ok.
This business of being towed out of disaster was starting to get a bit too regular. Perhaps we should consider changing the name of the catamaran to “Towed of Towed Haul”

Rescue 2

Eventually, clear of the channel entrance, we dropped anchor and began assessing damage. Once again, the boat’s design protected us from more severe damage. We did put a bend in one rudder shaft, but not enough to cause problems. What was more severe was that the rudder linkage in the wheelhouse had snapped, leaving the helm to spin with no rudder connection.
Fortunately Barry carries a spare of just about everything, and he had one of these, which, after about 20 minutes of fiddling, he managed to replace, – so there we were, seaworthy once again, however Barry was, understandably reluctant to try the channel again, with the strong crosswind and reduced control caused by only having one engine, so we decided to return to Castaway Island.
This was a piece of cake compared with what we had just been through, and we anchored in the same shelter we had before.

Wednesday 8th June

We had been receiving weather forecasts which indicated that our perfect weather was going to be interrupted on Thursday, with strong winds and rain with possible thunderstorms, so Barry decided that we wanted to be in a safe harbour by Wednesday night. Our options were to return to Denarau, or, for a change, have a look at Vuda (pronounced Voonda), so we chose Vuda, which is just an hour sailing from Denarau.
Barry set up the navigation program, we raised the anchor, and away we went, having to head north at first to clear all the reefs north of Castaway, then headed east towards Vuda, with a journey time of around three hours.
Everything was going smoothly, until, at a position midway between four reefs, but with plenty of clearance, Peter taking a turn at the helm, and myself emerging from my cave for a look outside, and Barry busying himself up front, the engine lost some rpm, then recovered. Pete and I both said “What was that?”
A minute or two later, it happened again, and then the engine died. Peter tried the other engine, which could be used gently for a short time if absolutely necessary. It started then died too.
Barry came rushing back and tried a few times but to no avail. With neither engine working, and no mechanical breaking noises, it had to be fuel. Not only that, it had to be a common fault to both engines.
Barry lifted the carpet to access the fuel tank whilst I returned to my cave to monitor our drift.
The fuel tank dipstick showed plenty of fuel, so we were thinking a blockage somewhere in a fuel line feeding both engines. Barry raced into our cabin, threw everything aside, and pulled the cover off the engine, which was accessible through our room. There was no fuel getting through. He then opened a panel in the floor of the cockpit which accessed fuel cross feed controls, and he also dipped the other fuel tank, which showed empty!
It seems he had lost track of the fact that he had been feeding from one tank, and consequently ran it dry.
The next problem was that the fuel line to the engine had to be primed with fuel before it would start. Peter was at the engine by this time and was contemplating having to syphon diesel fuel by mouth to get the fuel flowing, however, Barry was about to demonstrate once again his ability to think laterally in a crisis. He rushed out and returned with a diver’s air tank, rigged up a temporary seal with a rag, and placed it over the fuel tank opening and squirted high pressure air into the tank which started the flow of fuel to the engine, much to Peter’s relief, and ours of course.

Barry pressurizing the fuel lines

First Officer cum engineer Pete at the nerve centre

At the next attempt the engine started, so we were on our way again while the mess was cleaned up.
We hadn’t drifted far, so we were still well clear of the reefs. As we now had a favourable wind, we finally managed to get one sail up for the final run to Vuda.
After berthing in a quite complex circular marina, we headed for the Boat Shed, a bar and restaurant overlooking the channel leading into the marina, and had a few relaxing drinks, once again, and dinner, waited on by the ever delightful Fijian staff, who we have found to be unfailingly pleasant and helpful, even in the stressful conditions in which we have found ourselves.

Entrance to Vuda Marina

Vuda Marina

We had two ways of disembarking from “Twocan”, the first was via the dinghy, from our position in this circular marina, across to a small jetty near the Boat Shed, or, we could “walk the plank”. This was a plank of wood which was positioned on the bow of the port pontoon across to a small mini jetty protruding out from the wall of the berth. This was fine when the tide level was such that the plank was horizontal, however, if the tide was high or low, walking the sloping plank was a bit scary, and full of potential disaster. At the time of writing, nobody had fallen from ” The Plank”.

Mooring in the marina

Thursday 9th June

This was always going to be a marina day while we sat out the forecast strong winds. We walked to a nearby resort, ” The First Landing” and made use of their pool, with their kind permission and $5. A wedding was about to commence in the grounds of the resort so Elly, who couldn’t help herself, gatecrashed and took a few photos whilst I slinked around trying not to be noticed.

We booked in for dinner at their restaurant, against my recommendation of the Boat Shed, which was about 15 mins closer. I was concerned that the forecast rain would arrive, and we would get drenched walking back to the boat.
However, the ever helpful staff promised to drive us home if it was raining.
It poured during dinner!
The rain stopped, sort of, for our walk back to our soggy dinghy, so we only got slightly drenched, plus a bit more during the short dinghy ride to the boat.

Friday 10th June

The forecast indicated improving weather, but for our intended route north, conditions were still not good, so the decision was made to spend another day in Vuda, with some having arranged with a local taxi driver, Ali to pick them up at 0645 to do some reprovisioning, including, thanks to another friendly local, Peni, a lobster for lunch.
While this was happening, Peter was busying himself with all the chores, such as looking after the “plank” and filling the water tanks as well as all the water bottles we had accumulated. Peter has also become a “Designated Driver” of the dinghy and general First Mate and anchor operator. So the “Twocan” was all stocked up and ready for the next day’s sailing, which was to be around 5 hours.

Sunset at Vuda

Saturday 11th June

After all the pre sailing preparations were done, we gingerly slipped out of the circular marina, for a five hour sailing to an anchorage at the small island of Waya, part of the Yasawa group of islands. This was to be a safe harbour for the night on our journey to the Manta Ray Passage marine park, where, we were told, you could snorkel among the Manta Rays.
As we exited the marina and entered the marked channel Barry commented that it was an uneventful departure, just as we heard a loud bang, and then another!
Now I had assumed, as obviously had Barry, that a boat with a draft of 600 mm would be quite safe anywhere within a specifically marked channel – well, no. We had drifted to the right hand side of the channel, but we were still inside it.
Our good old protective bits on the starboard side had been hit, and had to be re-seated, but apart from the “Oh no!” factor, no damage had been done.
A short time later, with a good southerly breeze behind us, Barry decided to hoist the sails, so he and Peter, who was mastering all facets of “Twocan” set about hoisting the Main and Head sails.

During this process we headed into wind to allow easier hoisting of the Main sail, but in doing so the helm was turned too far, and with another bang (not so loud), we lost our steering, as the turnbuckle which had been replaced in our previous grounding, came off its track and sustained a large bend as it did so.
So, here we were again, drifting at sea with no directional control.
Barry was once again head down and bum up, manipulating the turnbuckle in its bent form, not wanting to straighten it in case it snapped, which would have meant really deep trouble.
As usual, he managed to fix it, and rig extra strength to the turnbuckle so that it wouldn’t break.
Prior to all this happening, Elly had been outside doing battle with a dodgy fishing rod, trawling a lure behind us as we went. She had been notably unsuccessful up until this point.

Elly fishing

Her latest news was that the fishing line was tangled in the propeller. As penance, she had to volunteer to dive in and try to sort it out. The sea was a bit choppy, but she bravely went in with a mask and began to work. I was alarmed to see that she didn’t have a rope attached, particularly when she swam across to the other pontoon. I had visions of her being carried away by the current, so I grabbed a rope and dropped the end down to her, just as she had managed to free the line and started swimming back to where she started, and although she was making very little progress, she finally made it.

Elly diving into the ocean to rescue the lure

Later, when we were talking about it, she said that she was glad that she had a rope around her! I told her that she didn’t.
Elly’s total catch has been one tiny fish, which she didn’t even realise she had caught, and had to throw back, and one propeller!
Having survived the dramas of the day, we set sail again with a nice helpful breeze, and finally we had a sailing boat, not a motor boat. Beautifully quiet without the engine, “Twocan” glided northward.
The island of Waya, as we approached it was beautiful and mystical in appearance. It had jagged peaks and unusual shapes, and was completely covered in a deep green.
Peter said it reminded him of King Kong, I thought more like Jurassic Park.
There was a small village by the shore, and what we assumed was a school. We had Happy Hour and then a fine meal barbecued by Peter, with stir fry by Geni and the girls -magnificent!

Waya Island

Waya Island

Sunday 12th June

We departed Waya Island for a three hour voyage to the Manta Ray passage, in beautiful conditions with a favourable wind, with some sail to help us along, with Barry and Peter busy doing all the fine tuning bits and all the rope tying things that sailors do. We anchored offshore just down from the Manta Ray Resort so that we could go ashore and find out what the rules were regarding the Manta Rays.
Just around the corner from the resort is a narrow, officially protected passage where the Manta Rays feed, and are quite accustomed to tolerating tourists swimming with them. We intended to take one of the trips with the resort boats, but there was a delay while said boats were being used to transport departing guests out to the ferry. In the mean time, the ever adventurous Elly managed to find a diving trip for the next morning, only costing megabucks.
Nobody was interested in doing the dive, so I reluctantly agreed to go – it turned out to be a two dive trip, followed by swimming with the Mantas, so of course we signed up, once again warning them of our level of incompetence.
While we were occupied, the Manta trip for that afternoon departed, with Barry on board, and on his return said he had been within touching distance, and it was quite special.
The wind was picking up, and with a difficult launching of the dinghy from the beach, we all managed to be drenched and cold by the time we arrived back at the boat – except Margaret, who had returned earlier before it became messy.
Happy Hour was delayed a bit while we dried off.

Sunset near Manta Ray passage

Monday 13th June

The dive boat picked us up from “Twocan” at 9 am, which was pretty civilised. There we were, two old farts climbing into the boat which was carrying about eight young, fit nimble divers, already kitted up. I with my green long sleeved top for sun protection, and my hat which has a chin string to prevent being blown off. We then proceeded to ooze our way into our wetsuits while everyone watched. They were very good, they didn’t laugh very loudly.
Elly and I had our own instructor, Seta, who I reminded that he had to look after us. “I will hold your hand” he said. He was great, he had Elly on one side and me on the other, and guided us all the way. The dive was great, with lots of coral and fish life, and we watched while about ten beautiful reef sharks glided by.

Alan preparing for his first Dive for the day

Coral reef as seen from the surface between dives

Dive master

We had about an hour on the surface, then went in for our second dive. This time a sheer drop off with a wall of coral and fish, and even a turtle.
We then headed for the Manta Ray passage, and with just snorkel gear, all leapt into the water where everyone was gathered, obviously Manta watching. Elly saw one, but I saw nothing except other people’s fins.
I eventually returned to the boat and told the guys that I hadn’t seen anything, so they drifted around a little until they saw a Manta near the surface, and yelled at me to get back in the water. Which I did, and found myself about a metre directly above a beautiful gliding Manta, which I followed for a couple of minutes before it started to “flap its wings” and gradually pulled away. A minute or so later, another came under me from the opposite direction.
What a great thing to see.

Tuesday 14th June

This was our last sailing day, and it was a long one, seven hours from Manta Ray Passage back to Denarau, where we would spend the last night on the “Twocan”.
It was a beautiful morning, and we were all ready to go at 8am, when Elly suggested that we could lower the dinghy, and with the sails up, she could take some photos of the catamaran in all its full glory.
Barry seemed a little reluctant, in view of the fact that the dinghy was already stowed, and our sailing time was looking to be around 8 hours, assuming no hold ups, so he decided to give it a miss and set off.
It was a beautiful day for sailing and we were all relaxed, with no tricky reefs to give us grief.
After a couple of hours we were in almost glassy seas and making good time, so Barry asked Elly whether she would like to do the photo shoot. And so it was done, the dinghy was lowered, and Elly and Barry circled the boat and took some lovely shots in the smooth conditions giving reflections in the water. They will be good souvenirs.

Beautiful Catamaran -Twocan

Twocan in calm seas

A couple of swims and some more cruising later, we glided onto our mooring at Denarau, and had our last happy hour before stepping upmarket with dinner at the Thai restaurant at the Radisson Hotel. Back to the boat for some affordable wine and a game of Red Aces wound up a great day.
Home tomorrow after what has been a real adventure, relaxation mixed with some drama.