It’s about beginning November as the doors of the plane open and Honiara’s (Capital of the Solomon Islands) humid heat warms me instantly. I finally meet Laura at the airport again a few days later, after long months of separation. The plan is to fly to Lata a couple of days later – which is one of the Santa Cruz islands. There we would find Anna Rose, a 45ft yacht, and deliver her to Hobart. We’re very eager to get to the boat as November is passing quickly and it’s getting rather late to be sailing this stretch. The first hurricanes can come through in December already and we need at least a few days to get the boat ready. Our flight from Honiara to Lata gets cancelled again and again because the plane’s engine was taken to bits and the mechanics are waiting for a part to be delivered in order to put it back together. We wait for more then a week, and are being told the same thing everyday from the airline: “Tomorrow! …maybe..”
So we wait in a town which is not attractive for waiters. One day we escape town on a scooter as far as we get in one day. Many smiles and waving hands greeted us as we roll through little villages where life seems timeless. Life close to the sea and in abundance of fruits, vegetables and nuts seems effortlessly independent. Kids enjoying the sun in the water, jumping from rocks, paddling in their wooden canoes, surrounding us as we stop to consume some mangos. They don’t understand us but watch curiously what we’re up to with their big smiles. A huge pig, longer than our scooter sits halfway sunk in a mud pool next to the road. What a life! I wonder whether these people have got an idea of what goes on in the world. Hard to imagine…
Some days later we board the plane finally, with too much weight too, but it doesn’t seem to be a problem. As the plane lands on a grassy, bumpy landing strip in Lata, the suspension must be working hard. Titus, a loyal helper of Oceanswatch, awaits us and walks us through the little village and to his dingy which floats in water so clear that hovering seems to be a more suitable verb to use than floating.
A couple of very busy days finally start – getting the boat shipshape. We get fuel and water in jerry cans, check the rig and the rest of the boat, get some food – which was quickly done as there’s no supermarkets on Lata. Most of our food supplies were lentils, pasta, rice and cans that were still on the boat and some fresh fruits and coconuts which we gather on Titus’ land. It takes us half a day to get fresh water from a spring that feeds a creek as pure as crystal – which is the water source for the surrounding villages and further downstream also a bathing and washing spot.

There’s more to say about Lata and its friendly villagers and funny conversations that we had with a peoples that for example don’t know their date nor year of birth and a mentality that is far from our way of living, that people don’t even know what to answer, when you ask them what they work – “Nothing” one fellow said that helped us carry vegetables back to the dingy, “I stroll around..” he answered, not knowing what else to tell me. There’s obviously some funny conversations happening when you talk to people so different from us 🙂
On the 21st of November we finally raise the two anchors (which were twisted like ivy on a pole). After 3/4hour of hard work Anna Rose is free finally and moving across the bay. A long journey begins with an unknown outcome. We expect fair winds for a week or so – any weather report further away can’t be taken to seriously. And the Tasman sea is another mystery itself.
But the trip starts smooth, with winds that keep our sails full … and our hands too, full of work: Squalls keep us busy during night and day. We’re glad, that it’s still warm and the rain is a welcome refreshment, whether day or night. Just about every sunset is a different painting that changes colors like a chameleon – night after night. How entertaining! Laura spots two dolphins one day that stay playing in front of the bow and as we wave and call, they seem to look up as they turn sideways and we see half their belly. Dolphins never seize to amaze us – the friendliest creature of the sea! A few days after passing New Caledonia, a steady wind is blowing and we sail along nicely, until Laura realizes that the autopilot has turned off. She turns it back on, but it switches itself of straight away. Something is wrong. Laura turns the wheel and finds no resistance…Broken cables?,… the search begins. We find the bolt broken, that attaches the cable to the quadrant and I do the best fix I can think of. We also set up the emergency steering just in case and leave the quadrant accessible so that we can monitor our jury rigged cable.

Laura: Over the next days the weather is kind and our fix seems to hold well, but we’re pushing the boat a little as we’ve got a satphone text from dad saying that a hurricane has just gone over the Solomon Islands and is heading for New Caledonia. By the time it gets to New Cal. we should be clear out of its way – but it never hurts to put as much distance possible between a hurricane and a boat!
Temperatures are dropping slowly, which we don’t mind as it was very hot when we first left. The nights are pleasant and we love watching the stars and the bright phosphoresence that’s around for most of the trip. And as a special effect the sea offered flashes of light in the dark sea. Flashes of about a meter in diameter – as if there was a deep sea disco going on and we sailed right through it. The light shows are amazing each night, whether it’s the phosphorescence in the water or the stars from above. On some nights dolphins would be around and leave their green trails in the water as they shoot around Anna Rose.

I stand on the bow of the boat one day, enjoying the rise and fall of Anna Rose while she gently makes her way through and over the waves towards the horizon. I bent over the rail to look at her bow cutting through blue water and notice a beautiful blue Mamma fish with two little ones surfing in our bow-wave. We watch them for a long while as they play and surf along and check again later in the evening – and they’re still there. The following morning I go to the front and am surprised to see the fish still surfing in the bow wave just as they had done the previous day. Sadly it looks like one of the little ones is no longer there… That evening they left and I wondered whether they had a destination or whether the were simply moving along as pilot fish? or using the shade? exploring? What would have made them travel for more then a 100NM in the wave of our bow?

For two days we see jellyfish gliding past. Big ones with an orange horse-shoe shape in the middle. Together with the jellyfish we often see something like a blown up piece of guts float on the water. It is slightly blueish, varies in sizes and gets up to the size of a hand. We wonder if it has something to do with the jellyfish that’s floating by at the same time.
In my presentation I often get asked what I do when I am out at sea and how I can not get bored. Even after so many miles I discover new things out at sea, there is so much that we don’t know about our oceans – there is so much life. It certainly isn’t just a vast, blue and open space. To me, it’s full of life, exiting, new and challenging.
About a week after passing New Cal. the weather is starting to become more challenging. Wind are rapidly dropping and the increasing again, changing direction, whipping up waves and tossing us around. With a heavy long keeler, and Anna Roses hull shape light winds are not so much fun! They make us roll heavily and unable to stop that. Often we would still move at 2 or 3 knots but the boat was simply to heavy for the wind to keep her from rolling. We try everything and in the end have to give in and take some sail down or start the engine for a few hours. I still find the state of no wind worse then a storm!

A couple of days ago, we had fixed a dribbling leak on the porthole above the chart table – which is on starboard side. We’re still on a port tack this early morning as I wake up from the sound of a stream of running water, wondering whether the tap’s running for some reason or what? Following the sound I find the porthole in the engineers cabin with a leak that is far beyond a dribble. It’s a little stream. Besides a few serious cracks in the glass, the rubber has also shrunk with the heat of years in the sun. I get the boat up straight to stop the water from reaching the porthole and we do a fix with something like sikaflex. … Two bad portholes make me wonder about the last one on the starboard side and we find that one leaking too. A fix as easy as changing the rubber should’ve been done long ago…

Laura