In the next few weeks we will be making our passage to Australia. Do you remember when SV Estrellita 5.10b was at 53° North, traipsing about in “That. Green.” in the Haida Gwaii (formerly the Queen Charlotte Islands), British Columbia, Canada?

There are many ways to count a Pacific Crossing, and as we approach our passage to Australia I find myself reminiscing about the start of it all. In many ways, it was when we turned South from Queen Charlotte City that started our crossing of the Pacific. At that moment, I knew the days of poking endlessly (slowly and joyfully) around the BC coastline were over and although we continued to cruise through the Haida Gwaii and down the coast of Vancouver Island (again) to Tofino, I was starting to think forward to our next legs – our first big passage to San Francisco, crossing into Mexico, the Pacific Puddle Jump. At the time I wrote “This stop was the Northernmost apex of our trip. We are officially Southbound from here.”

And it all happened. We had an incredible trip down the coast to San Francisco. A few months later we crossed into Mexico. And 5 months after that we left for French Polynesia. Giddyup!



And we arrived in what felt like a dream land. And as you already know, we tore ourselves away from French Polynesia at the end of our 3 months, only to shortly return and spend several years, again poking endlessly (slowly and joyfully) around as much of those glorious mind boggling archipelagoes as we could absorb.



And then things sped up again and we left French Polynesia for Niue, for Tonga, and the next year for Fiji and now New Caledonia. Giddyup!

Here we are sitting in Noumea, New Caledonia, preparing for the last leg to Australia. It seems like so very far from 53° North on the west coast of Canada to 33° South on the east coast of Australia. Still, many people make that trip in about a year and so it is probably the fact that it has been nearly 4 and  a half years since we left Canada that adds to the feeling of distance.

Crossing the Pacific can't be defined by mileage for me. We’ve already passed the longitude of NZ, and we certainly started from nearly the furthest corner of the Pacific we could from here. We've done the miles, but as any sailor who has contemplated this last set of passages (to NZ or AUS) knows, this last leg feels like the finish. It’s a line in the sand. An accomplishment. As a climber might say, it’s a beautiful natural line begging to be finished.

We’re stoked!

Fulaga is definitely a new favorite place – in the “view from the cockpit” category, our little nook just north of the sandspit anchorage in Fulaga is easily in our top 5 anchorages we’ve been in the South Pacific (so far).

Why? A lagoon that is essentially all under 50 feet means the colors pop everywhere. We were in 10-15 feet of sand in the four places we anchored which meant that the colors surrounding the boat were vivid (when it was sunny). The lagoon is dotted with limestone islets which made me dream of SE Asia. The water is clear, very clear. The long sandy shallows off the beaches were perfect for long slow stand up paddle boarding sessions. Add to that a pass with live coral and some lovely beaches and…three weeks sped by.

The pass is what Carol and I would call a “real” pass – meaning that it is, safely navigable, but should be taken seriously. Tip: The common knowledge about the slack tides (LWS 2:15 hours after LW at Moala in WXTide and HWS approximately the same as HW) seemed right to us. The pass is narrow and slightly curved with some eddies and standing waves on the ebb. At flood and slacks, we found the pass flat even in the 20 knots of cross wind we exited the atoll in.

Now that Fulaga is the popular place to go in the Fiji cruising circuit, the remoteness of it still dissuades some boats from making the upwind trek. We didn’t mind the 20 boat crowd in the atoll because it was still easy to find an anchorage to oneself if you wish and with 20 boats the villagers weren’t too concerned if we didn’t show up for every event. Perfect for us.

One of the delights of sailing in Vava’u Tonga this time of year is that we have
seen whales about half of the time we are out sailing. Sometimes far away, sometimes close, sometimes just a few blows on the horizon, once a whale that came nearly alongside, very often breaching, tail flukes arching and fins slapping.

We run around exclaiming, trying not to run into any reefs, fall overboard or jibe/tack while we ogle the whales.
Mostly we just enjoy them with our own eyes, rather than staring at a camera screen, but one time I took a moment to grab the long lens camera and snapped a couple of shots.

We’ve had a lot of whale encounters in Canada, near California and off the tip of the Baja peninsula but never so regularly as we have had here.

The whales have come to Tonga to have babies and make babies at this time of year and so they are everywhere.

What a dual personality Niue showed us. I’ll start with the negative. After a 10 day passage including passing through a front at the end, we were exhausted. We made landfall at 3am in the open roadstead ocean anchorage that is Niue, took a mooring and sat down with a small taste of cognac preparing for a hot shower and some sleep.



But no, oh no, that was not to be. The swell was too far South and was wrapping heavily into the harbor. The harbor was well protected from the wind, calm and quiet, and it was protected from the direct swell (so safe) but the wrapping swell had us rolling from toerail to toerail. Carol and I can sleep well in all kinds of conditions in the boat on passage and both of us could not sleep, even exhausted, in these conditions. The second night, the same thing. I told Carol that if the swell wasn’t down on the third night I was sleeping in the rental car because I was desperate, after two weeks, for a night of rest. Thankfully the direction change enough SE for the next week that we were only lightly rolling. Things ranged from comfortable to bearable for the rest of our stay.



And of course, the discomfort was totally worth it. We had whales in the mooring field for most of the second half of our stay. Swimming between the boats, spraying into the air, tale flukes gracefully curving out of the water, side fins slapping, the sound of their song through our hull.



Then there were the sea snakes. We did one dive exploring the canyons in the mooring field and staring transfixed at the individual sea snakes as they lazily swam back and forth between the surface and the reef.



And then there was the trekking, the swimming associated with the trekking, the bouldering, the views.



And last but not least, we met up with old friends, with new friends and we met new people in Niue. A great small community of 5-6 boats playing in parallel. We left Carol’s moldy hat (a microbrewery in WA State, anyone recognize it?) and picked up a new Niue Yacht Club hat for him.



A short 10 day stay, but a wonderful set of memories collected.

Forced back to Tahiti* for storm repairs, we’ve been working on trying to not lose our cruising while dealing with repairs and claims.

We actually love Tahiti and nearby Moorea and we had a chance to hang out a lot with our Tahiti friends, make some new Tahiti friends and also hung out a bunch with Gab and Isa on Cariba on their way back from the Cook Islands.

We’ve been making time for some fun, enjoying old favorites on these islands (how long have we BEEN here exactly??!) and taking the time to see and do some things we had missed – like rent scooters on Moorea. Super fun!

We also revisited the stingray feeding and groping site in Moorea. It was fun to go with some people who had never been. We went twice ourselves. We’ve been doing some kiting and catching a lot of sunsets.

We are scheduled to go back in the water this Monday. Let the adventures begin again! Oh, and be prepared for a crapload of boatwork posts as I sort through the haul out chores.


*I know, I know, cry me a river.