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Monday, October 1, 2012

Pacific 'potholes'


The Pacific is littered with metaphorical 'potholes' some we hit and some we swerved.

 
Swerved: Breakers and Discolored Water

Imagine the scene; 1000 miles from land with two of you on a small boat, you're sailing in waters more than three miles deep and right on the direct course to your destination, the chart simply says; 

Breakers and Discolored Water

It's hard to convey just how small this makes you feel as the chart gives you no further explanation. When was this recorded? What does it mean? Can we hit it? What will it look like? By how far should we avoid it?
It wasn't until I got to Google it about three weeks later that all became clear. And the reality further compounded our sense of vulnerability; because it is from discolored water that islands pop out of the sea!
Later on in the crossing, off the west coast of Tonga we encountered a hazard, simply referred to on our chart as 'Reported Volcanic Activity'. This turned out to be an island that rose out of the sea in 2006 which in the space of 2 years was eroded to a subsurface boat wrecker*. Bonkers.
 
 
Hit: Just for beer

The Tuamotos are a mid Pacific archipelago of atolls. Atolls are islands millions of years past the afore mentioned stage of formation. In fact they are so old that they've actually completely eroded to below water level and all that remains visible is epochs of dead coral.

Once was an island in the middle

It wasn't until the arrival of GPS about 20 years ago that recreational yachties started visiting the Tuamotos, never mind sailing within their inner lagoons.

After a mind-blowing few weeks and just before the departure of our final atoll we stopped to stock up on beer. On this occasion there appeared no other option than to drop the anchor directly onto coral. The judgement on where to drop is a best guess as you squint through the clear water for a flat patch.
Clearly not flat enough, we returned with beer only to find our anchor chain totally tangled in the snaggy coral. At 10 meters down both Matthew and I were at the at the limit of our free diving ability and could only just get down there to have a look at it. Spagetti on a fork - we were completely tangled.


Better bend this than the bow
Day1; we spend about four hours trying to free it before nearly ripping the anchor holder of the front of the boat. On day 2 the wind got up from the wrong direction overnight (we were now on a lee shore) and for three hours we unsuccessfully gymkhana'd in the meter high waves. After nearly ripping part of the bow out again some local pearl divers arrived and free-dived to the rescue. I lost count of how many minutes he was down there untangling the chain. Ironically the legends wouldn't even accept some of the beer that we'd stopped for.

 

Hit: The Mast

Yes...anchor chain
Oh...and the mast nearly fell down....a two day sail away from Rarotonga in the Cook islands. At dusk the main supporting wire at one side decided to start unraveling strand by strand. The resulting task to install jury rig 1 ended with me up the mast, in the dark doing the equivalent of threading a needle on a bucking bronco.
Of similar hilarity (retrospectively) was jury rig 2.




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