Jasmine and Numbatou went out for a double-handed sail yesterday with Adam (Little Wren) as part of the Mini Globe Race inaugural Vuda Marina ‘Coconut Cup’ mini Olympics. It was also a really useful shakedown sail following repairs and changes to the boat.

In both races Numbatou finished 3rd, and in the second race timed the start to perfection with the Tandem Patents spinnaker sail flying to cross the start line first.

There’s some work to do now this morning. The electric outboard needs some attention, a jammer needs replacing and a winch needs servicing. Then it’s finishing stowing, check trim and hopefully another confirmation sail this afternoon before the evening reception and leg 2 presentation.

Day 1 of the mini olympics was brilliant fun. There was croquet, tug of war, egg throwing, blind-folded dingy rowing, soduka and a paddle board race complete with skirt, bra, balloons, lipstick and beer! Just what everyone needed to relax.

Start day is this Saturday and will be live on the Mini Globe Race FB and YouTube.

to one of Jasmine’s main sponsors @hillsprint who are based just outside Thirsk. They are one of North Yorkshire’s leading suppliers of standard and large format printing. https://hillsprint.co.uk

Rotary International in Great Britain & Ireland

Econ Engineering

Goodechip

Vision PVC

#mouseythompson

Axel’s Trading Company Limited

To support Jasmine please consider a donation

https://www.justgiving.com/crowdfunding/jasmine-harrison-MGR

Get ready for a thrilling competition that will ignite passion in young sailors and boost their skills.

This championship is set to be a highlight in Fiji, welcoming sailors to a three-day adventure of optimist sailing fun!

Discounts for early registration/ confirmations with the option to participate in the 3 day coaching clinic prior to the Championship.

For more information: admin@sailing.org.fj, mobile +679 9272043.

• 18th — 20th April 2025
• National Sailing Centre
• Suva — Fiji

https://www.facebook.com/share/1FsrTHnh28

• Blessing Of The Fleet
• Live Entertainment
• Refreshments From 1.30pm
• Free Keg
• All Day Drink Specials
• Prizes And Giveaways

Royal Suva Yacht Club Annual Sail Past Schedule

• 10.00am Briefing
• 10.10am Opening Speech
• 10.20am Fleet Manager Briefing
• 10.30am Opening Prayer
• 11.00am Depart Royal Suva Yacht Club
• 1.30pm Return & Hand Out Prizes
• 1.40pm Live Entertainment

1. One to two tropical cyclones (TCs) are likely to pass through Fiji’s Exclusive Economic Zone during the 2024-25 TC season.
2. Of these, one TC is likely to reach severe Category (Category 3-5).
3. There is equal risk of TCs affecting any part of the Fiji Group.
4. While the peak TC activities are usually from January to February, TCs can form at any time during the season. Out of season TCs cannot be ruled out.
5. It does not take a direct hit or a severe TC to cause considerable damage or life-threatening weather. Tropical disturbances or depressions that do not attain TC intensity can and have previously caused strong winds/gusts, widespread heavy rainfall, landslides and flooding.
6. All communities should remain alert and prepared throughout the TC season and take heed of all advisories whenever it is issued.

Figure 1: Total number of TCs forecasted for the Fiji region.

Figure 2. Number of severe TCs forecasted for the Fiji region.

Additional Information

1. To predict the outlook for the 2024-25 TC season, analogue seasons were identified, that is, seasons in the past (from 1980) with similar background climate. These seasons were 1983-84, 2000-01, 2005-06, 2008-09, 2016-17 and 2017-18.
2. On average, around two TCs affect Fiji every season. Thus, near normal tropical cyclone activity is likely for the Fiji region this season.
3. The TC season in the southwest Pacific extend from November to April, with the peak TC activities normally experienced from January to March. However, TCs have occasionally occurred in this region during October and May, and rarely in September and June. Out of season TCs cannot be ruled out this season.
4. In the past, tropical depressions also had significant impact on Fiji, especially heavy rainfall and severe flooding. Thus, it is important to take heed of all-weather advisories seriously.

Seasonal summary so far – January 2025

Regional Specialized Meteorological Centre Nadi – Tropical Cyclone Centre – Tropical Cyclone Seasonal Outlook – 2024

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/2024%E2%80%9325_South_Pacific_cyclone_season

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tropical_cyclone_intensity_scales#Australia_and_Fiji

The week-long event will be held from September 11-15 2024.

Musket Cove director Will Moffat shared his thoughts on the upcoming competition.

“We will have around 100 boats again this year.

“It should be good, we’ll see our traditional people coming the Kiwis, the nosy is doing their Pacific lap and also the world cruisers coming from as far away from the UK and Europe, down through and picking up through America and through the Panama Canal and across to Fiji so I think it should be should be a good mix,” Moffat said.

Musket Cove Resort manager Joe Mar looks forward to an entertaining week.

Musket Cove Regatta officials and sponsors Front row: From left; Liane Orlina, Grace Daveta, Mere Lisoni Back row; From left; Rajeev Reddy, Epeli Raivoka,Ratu Suliano Bogileka,Will Moffat, Sakiusa Koroi,Nitesh Chand, Wayne Deed and Hamish Black at Musket Cove Island Resort yesterday.PHOTO: Anasilini Natoga

“Last year we saw a fantastic global entry of yachts from Australia, New Zealand, USA and the United Kingdom with over 350 yachties and support crew arriving for the event.

“We‘ll have a packed schedule of events and entertainment this year for competitors, family and friends so register early to ensure you don’t miss out.

“With live entertainment each evening, the Friday night party theme this year is ‘Party Like It’s 1982’,” Mar said.

This event is one of the longest-standing international sporting tourism events held in Fiji.

The event will be sponsored by a number of companies including Motibhai Group, Marsden Cove, Vodafone, Victoria Wines, Tappoo, and Paradise Beverage.

Original : https://www.fijitimes.com.fj/100-boats-expected-at-musket-cove-regatta/

Designed for a multi-generational group of international and local yachties, the event program will feature barefoot beach parties interspersed with friendly regattas for sailing and motor yachts measuring over 22 metres.

Register your interest

The racecourse will weave through the volcanic archipelago of the Mamanuca islands, exploring the iconic setting of many a Hollywood film.

The south pacific superyacht rendezvous invites owners, friends, and crew to cast off and voyage to fiji to experience the cultural charm of superyachting in the southern hemisphere.

“The superyacht gatherings are all about building a strong community of owners and industry professionals in the south pacific,” explained founder Linda Berry. “together, we are working towards luring superyachts away from traditional cruising areas so that they can discover what this stunning region has to offer.”

The Preliminary Agenda

27th August

• Polynesian Welcome Party

28 August

• Captains Briefing
• Race 1
• Sundowners

29 August

• Captains Briefing
• Race 2
• Sundowners

30 August

• Race 3
• Sundowners
• Prize Giving

THE SUPERYACHT GATHERINGS 2024

SOUTH PACIFIC SUPERYACHT RENDEZVOUS – FIJI ISLANDS 27-30 AUGUST

FLAGSHIP EVENT – AUCKLAND 27,28,29 NOVEMBER

Their remoteness, white sand beaches, clear blue lagoons and unique terrain, makes this remote, rugged and authentic group of 20 ancient islands, one of the most stunning regions of Fiji.

Fortunately because of this remoteness to the mainland, commercial development has never taken hold.

Formed several million years ago by volcanoes, the southernmost islands of Kuata and Waya Lailai have dramatic elevations, incredible rock formations and summits at almost 600 metres above sea level.

The pristine beaches and dramatic landscape provide a beautiful environment in which to relax or enjoy away from the hustle and bustle of the mainland.

Yasawa Island Group, Fiji Discovery Expedition Cruise – 20 Jul – 2 Aug 2024

• 200nm
• 20 Jul – 2 Aug 2024
• 13 Days
• Cat 3 Cruise
• Event #2419
• Vessel: Te Kaihōpara

Yasawa Island Group, Fiji

Itinerary

You can fly directly into Nadi Airport on or before the 20th of July 2024.

When you arrive at Vuda Marina, we’ll familiarise you with the yacht, systems and safety equipment and you will join us for a crew welcome dinner.

We will aim to depart (subject to weather) around midday on the 21st of July and leave the Vuda Point Marina, heading NW for the first of our Yasawa Island anchorages.

You are welcome to stay onboard from the date you arrive but if you plan to arrive prior to the 20th of July, you may need to arrange accommodation ashore.

The goal is to explore the Yasawa Island group over the following 12 days, stopping daily at selected bays, attractions and islands en-route.

We will aim to sail back into Vuda Point Marina on the 1st of August and you can stay onboard on arrival before departing out of Nadi Airport on the 2nd of August.

The islands are steeped in mystery and legend.

The Yasawan people live as they have done for centuries, keeping the spirit of the islands alive with their traditional and simple lifestyle.

Blessed with dramatic volcanic peaks and sun-drenched white sand beaches, the Yasawa Islands is a haven for nature lovers and its a sailors dream for an adventurous ocean escapade.

Further north, turquoise lagoons surround white sandy beaches.

It includes the famous Blue Lagoon and as the name suggests, the water is the most inviting shades of blue you will ever see.

Many of the Yasawa islands are home to traditional island villages and it’s these Fijian people who help make this cruising adventure magical.

This 12 day cruising adventure will include a series of day hops and overnight anchorages in peaceful sheltered bays at many of the following islands in the group; Kuata, Waya and Waya Lailai, Viwa, Naukacuva, Nanuya Balavu, Drawaqa, Naviti, Yaqeta, Matacawalevu, Nanuya Lailai, Tavewa and Nacula.

We’ll island hop our way through the archipelago to standout spots like the awe-inspiring Sawa-i-Lau caves, swim with mesmerising mantas and discover delightful underwater coral gardens.

There are secret beaches to discover, deserted bays to snorkel and scenic lookouts where you can watch the sun slip into the sea.

Famous for its natural beauty, the ‘Blue Lagoon’, is ringed by islands with soft rolling peaks.

Coconut palms line the whitest sandy beaches you have ever seen and the water is a mix of aqua and turquoise, so stunning that you’ll want to dive right in and discover the coral reefs below. In the midst of the Blue Lagoon is what’s considered to be the jewel of the Yasawas – ‘Nanuya Lailai’.

Dotted with palm trees and surrounded by a coral lagoon, the island is truly one of Fiji’s gems. The surrounding waters are alive with colourful fish and coral.

Referred to as ‘the very heart of the Yasawas’, the majestic Sawa i lau Caves are one of the ‘must-do’ activities for sailors visiting the spectacular Blue Lagoon. The ancient limestone formations, carved by constant wave action, are hidden within a little island in the northern Yasawas. The history of the caves is legendary; the story goes that a young Chief once safely settled with his betrothed in the cave after her family threatened to marry her off to a rival Chief. Every day he would swim into this hidden grotto with food for the girl until eventually they both escaped to the safety of another island and to be together forever. The sacred Sawa i lau Caves are also known as the resting place of the ten-headed ancient Fijian god, Ulutini.

Te Kaihōpara: Last Crew Position Available

• Secure your place on the crew with a 20% deposit.
• SHARED CABIN: AUD$8,750 (PER BERTH)
• PRIVATE CABIN: AUD$23,625 (INCLUDES 3 BERTHS)
• 13 DAYS

The 72-Foot Yacht Te Kaihōpara

Te Kaihōpara is a 72ft, steel-hulled, 56-ton, ketch-rigged sailing vessel. Designed by Don Brooke and built in New Zealand. The yacht is a luxuriously appointed cruising ketch that combines the strength and safety of a steel hull, with excellent performance under wind and power through excellent design and waterline length.

Te Kaihōpara translates to The Explorer in Maori and has been renamed to capture the essence and purpose of our future adventures around this beautiful country. Built in 1976, Te Kaihōpara was formerly known as The Dove and Paul Markson II when originally launched. She has graced New Zealand’s Hauraki Gulf, crossed the Tasman and cruised the Pacific Islands for more than four decades under three previous owners. Te Kaihōpara was designed to explore New Zealand’s rugged coastline in all weather conditions, providing comfort with extensive indoor and outdoor spaces.

Ocean Sailing Expeditions purchased Te Kaihōpara in early 2023. She is currently undergoing a full rewire and upgrade of safety systems to meet the latest Coastal Survey safety standards with Maritime New Zealand, before relocating to her new home at The Viaduct Marina in Auckland, ready to commence sailing operations in September 2023.

Book here!

Expect great Fijian cuisine, an informative guest speaker, an island-hop, a beach BBQ and an exclusive networking experience.

The Superyacht Gathering FIJI 2023

• Fiji, South Pacific
• 23-24 August
• Denarau Island & Malolo Lailai Island

An Event to Remember

The Superyacht Gathering community comes together in exclusive environments, with limited numbers, to enjoy experience-based events that focus on the issues important to the superyacht life – society, environment, technology and inspiring success stories from our clients, peers and colleagues.

“Luxury used to be about gold, marble and chandeliers, grand lobbies and glitzy hotels. It’s now about what guests can take away from an educational and emotional point of view. One of a kind experiences, secret locations and education are quickly becoming the ultimate indulgence.”

Vogue Living Australia

About Our Superyacht Community

Since it was first founded in 2019, the mission of The Superyacht Gathering has been to foster personal connections that promote positive change within our unique industry. The numbers of attendees at any gathering is purposely limited, ensuring that by the end of the event, you will have had a chance to speak with, exchange contact details or make plans to catch up with most of the people in the room.

But though we are petite group, we are also a powerful one. Through the Superyacht Gathering, owners, experts and influencers have been inspired to be part of the better good. Altruistic undertakings that have have been shared with our community include the Manta Ray Conservation Project on Kokomo Private Island and the Live Ocean Foundation with founders Blair Tuke and Peter Burling using their high profiles for the better good.

The Superyacht Gatherings – 2023

• Fiji Islands 23/24 August 2023
• Auckland NZ 23/24 November 2023

But Jak wasn’t into tragedy. He was grinning, tapping the last sentence, listing the crew of the yacht: it ended “… and two young American women.”“Maybe they’ll be looking for another yacht to sail on?” Now that was of real interest to two young guys!

Yacht Hadar

Yacht HADAR drifts downwind

I’d just sailed into Suva two months earlier, from Nelson, New Zealand, on my first cruising voyage. My 36’ yacht HADAR was built of steel, and so was I … or at least I was feeling so: at 29, I was strong, confident and had an irrepressible urge for adventure!

But I was alone: my crew had gone home. I needed help to spot the coral I’d be sailing through, but I also needed company. Two young women sounded just right!

The Team Forms

First Jak Ayres had soon joined me, answering my notice in the Suva Yacht Club. Jak came from Hawaii and we had much in common: both of us were high school teachers, surfers, young, fit, and in our late 20’s. Light and easy-going, his face was framed with short, curly hair, and alive with the wrinkling eyes of easy smiles.

The Royal Suva Yacht Club was a perfect sailors’ base, and it has changed little over the four decades since this story unfolded. The odd lick of paint, but not too many: it is a club to be used and enjoyed, not a flash chapel of image like many other clubs that cling to the “Royal” label. The Suva club’s neighbourhood would not suit the flash crowd, either: just over the road is the prison: watch- towers, barred cells, razor wire and all! Indeed one player in this story would soon spend some time “over the road”, where “bar” has a very different meaning!

A few days later I came back to this haven from the bustling town, to find Jak bubbling with excitement, desperate to tell me, “They came, those chicks. They’re cool, man!”

While I’d been out the two girls off the wrecked yacht had come to the yacht club. They’d seen my “crew wanted” notice, and soon found Jak. Rather exceeding his rights as a newly- signed crew, he’d taken them out to HADAR, where they’d poked around through the cabins with childish delight. They knew how to summarise someone else remotely: what does he eat/read/ listen to? They’d got the wrong boat twice before through neglecting this vital step: they were more careful this time!

Jak with his Walu catch

Jak bubbled over like a shaken beer, filling me in with details about the visit: mostly what they looked like, ages, body shapes, hair colour – all the things he thought relevant to their suitability as crew for HADAR’s proposed cruise. And later in the day, around sunset time, I met them and formed my own opinions. I tried, vainly, to be more objective, but reached the same conclusions: they would be great to have aboard!

Susie and Jana were close friends. Susie Rose was below average height, with lots of curves in all the right places, long dark hair and a darkish – Mediterranean? – complexion. Her eyes sparkled with mischief, flashing a language of happiness no-one could ignore. Jana Palm was taller, thinner, red-haired, freckled and fair-skinned, with at least as much vibrancy as her friend. Both in their early twenties, they’d been friends for several years: they had that spontaneous ease of intimacy that had them often speaking as one – with two voices, finishing each other’s sentences like sisters. It took me half a beer to realise that I wanted them aboard.

Third Time Lucky?

Of course I’d had to ask them about their previous sailing experience,

They found their first skipper in Pango Pango. They’d quickly realised he was a dreamer, but at sea he became a drunkard, too. They were soon standing on the shores of another South Seas port, wondering “what next?”

“Yacht BUNGEE”, anchored off Aggie Grey’s Hotel, soon answered that question. This 43’ fibreglass cutter was calling for crew for the trip to Fiji. She was owned by an Australian woman and skippered by Fred, her American boyfriend. He was a GI, ex-Vietnam: the girls hoped this would be a disciplined ship! No sensible questions were asked about the skills of the skipper or the preparedness of the boat: just “please take us”! Now that was a bad mistake, as they were soon to find out.

Bungee sailed out of Apia with five aboard, full of fun and optimism towards Wallis Island – a small French territory about 300 miles west. Land was soon out of sight on the second day and to find this small island required navigation. The skipper took the beautiful Plath sextant out of its case, posed himself on the stern, adjusted the mirrors, peered at the numbers…and then slammed the sextant back into its case, muttering darkly about nothing working properly “on this shit boat”. They sailed through the night into another day, but the dawn brought more than daylight: it dawned on Susie and her friend that their skipper didn’t know how to navigate. They were lost! His growing anger spread over the whole boat.

Fred gave up trying to find Wallis and changed course towards Suva, about 450 miles south west. But while it was unforgivable getting lost trying to find Wallis Island, it was safe enough: there was nothing else to hit out there. But sailing towards Suva from the north east without very good navigation is like Russian roulette. Across most of the sea are strings of coral reefs that are invisible from more than three miles off by day, or a hundred yards off by night. Fred hadn’t a clue of his true position. He kept the yacht sailing on towards this line of foaming danger.

It was on his watch, at about 0300 – he was asleep, with the yacht on self-steering – that they hit the reef. The horror of those first, dark hours of shaking and grinding, each new wave lurching the boat and drenching her crew. They clung to the cockpit, feebly joking, hoping – and waiting for daylight. As dawn came the fear level subsided a little, but the danger they were in was clearer. The yacht had washed onto the windward side of a reef, and was pressed hard on the coral by wind and wave. There was no way the boat could be saved. It was already starting to take water through the crushed fibre- glass hull.

Some small good news, though, came with dawn: there were three small islets just a mile or two downwind. Fred and his partner – a yacht-owner the day before, now a wreck-owner – took off in the dinghy, laden with salvaged gear and stores, towards these islands. “She’s yours if you can get her off”, Fred snarled as they left: his moods swung from grim to violent. Their only refuge should the hull break apart was the life-raft, inflated and tied alongside.

Unloading a copra schooner at Suva.

It was near sunset that Fred, now “Crazy Fred” to his young crew, came back in the dinghy to collect more gear, and to take them off the wreck. A base had been set up above a beach on the central island, and with a fire, some food and plenty of coconuts in the palms above, they were all safe for the moment. Safe from the sea, but maybe not from the skipper.

Amongst the gear were several weapons, for Fred was a special kind of crazy: he was gun-crazy. I was later to find ammunition of several types washing around the wreck, like on the floor of a flooded armoury. I could easily believe the girls when they told how he would blaze away at coconuts in the palms and at other times, order his young crew to do his bidding, stressing his orders with a pistol in his hand.

The girls were elated the next day when the ship hove into view, inside the lagoon, to take them to Suva. The girls were welcomed into the family of one of the ship’s crew. The wreck’s owner was found a hotel. The “skipper” (the wrecker) was taken to a different “hotel”: as we talked over our cold beers he was just over the road in the Suva Prison, charged with illegally importing firearms, which he’d hidden in gear he brought off the island!

To my astonishment Susie and Jana were keen to join me on Hadar. I just couldn’t understand how they could do it again, and asked how and why? “Third time lucky!” they laughed, glowing with simple enthusiasm for the adventures of young life!

Making a Plan

Even before Jak came along I’d decided to sail to Fiji’s Lau Group. I’d found the Yasawas dull. Lau would be different. Dozens of very different islands are scattered across the sea, mostly with very deep, clear seas between them. Poring over my British Admiralty Pilot Book and my charts, I could see that at least half of the Lau islands had good anchorages where we could be safe and happy, no matter which wind blew. As any sailor knows, the two most important things for his happiness are a safe anchorage, and a warm wahine: both were now looking possible on this Lau cruise!

The girls were keen to go back to the scene of their near-demise, and I was keen to see it too. Jak was on for anything, and this voyage fitted perfectly with his passion for marine biology. Cruising the Lau required a special permit: it had long had a special status as a pole of political power. A consequence of that was that tourism was not encouraged, and visits were strictly controlled. With a recent science degree, I soon concocted a plan for “research” in Lau that would benefit Fiji: the permit was granted.

The other challenge with sailing to the Lau was that getting there normally required sailing straight into the trade winds. But I’d noticed that this became easier every week or two when fronts came through: the winds tended to back around the compass over two days. Our plan was to wait for a front, and then sail to southern Lau (Matuku and Fulanga). Later we’d ride on the trade winds, north to Vanua Mbalavu (Vanua Balavu – evocatively called on the early charts “The Exploring Islands”). We’d base there to explore the nearby reefs where wrecked Bungee lay, and then come back to Suva across the Koro Sea.

To Matuku

Suva has the best fresh market in the South Pacific. It is such a happy, colourful place, a joy to the eyes as much as to the heart of a cook. Needing food for a month, and food that would last without fridge or freezer, takes some planning. And some experimentation: what lasts best? How do you best store things? There would be very little available to buy where we were going.

Suva also does the best overcast sky I know: vast, roiling black clouds queue over the mountains, then roll down over jagged peaks, pushing sheets of grey aside and dumping rain on the glistening brown flesh below. Most people dart from shelter to shelter, giggling, laughing and shouting in the warm rain.

This weather often signals that the winds are changing. One dawn soon after the girls joined Hadar brought that signal. With a rising northerly we soon had full sail set for Matuku, 100 miles south east. Four bright young souls aboard a fine cruising boat, a skipper with just enough skills to keep them safe, and an adventure ahead – it does not get better than this!

The black skies cling tightly to the main island, like the wiry hair on a Fijian’s head. Out at sea it clears and by nightfall it was all stars, with a young moon setting. Rushing on through the night, across seas clear of dangers, DR (dead-reckoning – navigation by compass, log and the clock) was the technique of choice.

Jana poling a bamboo raft, Matuku.

Hadar, like most cruisers of that time, had no electronics. GPS didn’t yet exist. For those who’ve known navigation with sextant or by accurate DR, there is real satisfaction in practicing those skills. At that time autopilots were very rare on cruising boats, and Hadar, like most cruisers of that era, relied on self-steering, powered by wind and water.

By dawn our chosen island was clear ahead, still 15 miles away. With the rising sun the valleys, forests, and clearings all began to fill out the picture of paradise unknown. Soon stark white beaches, contrasted against dark green forests, underlined the picture. It is pure magic watching a new land unfold with the day.

But there, as the chart promised, was a clear and wide passage, the dark-blue of deep water guiding us through the reefs of the western shore. A wide pass leads right on into the heart of this mountainous island – into the crater, in fact, of what is a great volcano. Matuku’s harbour is wonderful both for its shelter and for its breathtaking beauty. We sailed on in, eyes full of wonder.

We anchored off the village of Lomati, in the heart of the crater. Muddy shores, mangroves giving way to coconuts and then jungle, with small garden clearings on the slopes rising up to steep basalt cliffs on the skyline. The village was a small affair, evident more by gentle smoke and domestic noises (children, dogs, roosters, axes) than by any structures.

The waterfront was lined with children singing hymns and chanting, “Come to the billage! Come to the billage!”. We did as we were bidden.

The houses were small, simple and often dilapidated, set along each side of a wide grass street that leads up from the landing towards the hills. There were perhaps twenty houses in total, and a church/hall. The population was below 100. The chief’s house was no different from its neighbours. We were warmly welcomed in, shaking hands, giving our names and origins and our gift of kava.

We stayed three nights in that cradle of beauty. The nights were so dark. Not a light below the black mountain’s sawtooth ridge, a blaze of stars above. Deep silence reigned till dawn, then came a flurry of the noises of awakening life, calming slowly into the quiet, routine sounds of daily life. Aboard there are routines, too. There’s bread to bake, and meals to prepare; there’s cleaning; sometimes a repair to do, or something to make. Outside, there’s the people to greet and meet, the land to explore on foot, the shores by dinghy – or on the bamboo raft Jana borrowed from the village and poled around the mangroves.

Susie and I were getting on very well, though she was always saying “Lighten up!” After her two previous skippers I felt she might appreciate me being serious!

The girls were great company. Aboard they were often busy in the galley, playing with ideas that turned into delicious meals. Ashore, they were soon involved with village life, with children playing, and with the women, learning village skills – like grating coconut to produce coconut cream (lolo), or weaving mats of pandanus leaves. Friends they brought from the shore were welcomed aboard, where they gazed at us like exhibits from another planet – the world of palangis (valagis – visitors). And then, one day, as sailors must, we left Matuku and sailed on.

Fulaga

We left one afternoon, with the trade winds in the south – on the beam – for the hundred miles across to the next island. Another charmed passage through the night, another silhouette in the sunrise, though this one is nowhere near so dramatic. Fulanga (Vulaga, or Fulaga) is a doughnut shaped rim of raised coral 260 feet high on the western side, lower on the northern and eastern sides. And that’s where the pass is – our entry into what was going to be one of the loveliest places I’ve ever seen on the sea.

The pass is only 60 yards wide, a deep channel running from the ocean, straight through the reef into the lagoon. Up the mast at the spreaders I could see the channel clearly, but there were strong pressure waves – rapids! – showing the tide running out, probably at about three knots. It was not the best time to enter, but I’d breasted six-knot tidal flows before. I knew the boat could handle this – but could I? I lined up the boat, ruled my nerves into submission, and fired Hadar into the slot at full power. Slowly, slowly, we were making headway. The big danger in this situation is that being thrown off the straight course can very quickly send the boat onto the coral at full speed: it’s only 30 yards from the centre line to the side – about 10 seconds at six knots. You must be totally attentive on the helm, fighting every eddy, making corrections every moment to stay on track.

As we came through the worst pressure waves, and into the lagoon I could relax and begin to enjoy this astonishing, vast lagoon of azure water, sprinkled with scores of small islands – some mere rocks, others larger and jungle-covered.

Sailing proa flitting across the lagoon like graceful butterflies, Fulanga.

It was all so wonderful, but far too much to take in at once. I shouted, “let’s do that again!” Throwing the wheel over, we shot out through the pass again, with the current this time, down the rapid at nine knots, out to sea, laughing with exhilaration we came in again, a little more relaxed this time, better able to watch the magic scene unfold.

The lagoon is about 10 miles wide, and five across, though it is so cluttered with islands and islets that the full size is not clear at first. All the land, islets and rocks are made of old, upraised coral which is eroded by the sea into very sharp, hard surfaces that are dangerous to walk over. Most islands have the rock undercut by the sea, and the smaller ones are like mushrooms sprouting from the sea. Some would have only a few square yards of vegetation atop: bushes, stunted trees, even coconut palms, clinging to their hard, dry surface.

The lagoon has one village, Naivindamu, on its western shore (inside the rim), while there are two more villages invisible on the outside of the rim, facing the ocean on the southern shore.

Five days passed easily. We spent our days walking the beaches, snorkeling the shallows and watching the last of the sailing proa flitting across the lagoon like graceful butterflies. These are small cousins of the traditional Pacific drua – dug-out canoes built up with planks sewn on with sennit (coconut fibre) and balanced with an outrigger that always stays to windward. The sail is a “crab- claw” form, with two spars meeting at the deck near the bow. When they tack the spars must be taken to the other end, the rudder is also swapped: the bow becomes the stern, the stern the bow, and off they go on the other tack. Here they were trolling the lagoon, or moving across to work gardens on smaller islands. Sails were largely made of old synthetic sacking or plastic roofing material, a patchwork of dull white, orange and vivid blue.

Ashore we met a man collecting mud crabs among the mangroves. He gave us some – large, fearsome beasts whose claws thankfully he’d tied with vines – to take for our dinner. The next day he came back and we had to admit we’d had trouble eating them: it is so hard getting the flesh out of all the crevices, and it all seemed too much hard work. He laughed gently, as a father would at a child who cannot master a normal skill, “no problem, wife can do”. He came back later, calling from the beach, bearing a bowl of beautifully prepared coconut crab.

A proa with pandanus sails, Fulanga.

For the record – so we could say we’d stayed at an uninhabited island – we left Fulanga and sailed north 15 miles to the Yangasa Cluster, a group of four jungle-covered, rocky islets on an intimate lagoon. This place was as pure as the world can be, floating at the edge of the world on crystal azure water over coral sands. It was certainly worth the effort!

A couple of days later, we were off on another night sail amongst islands and reefs, 100 miles northwards to Vanua Mbalavu (Vanua Balavu). This passage needed more serious navigation. It was just another wonderful challenge and about noon the next day I brought the yacht safely in through Nggilanngila Pass, and down to the Bay of Islands.

Vanua Balavu & Bungee’s Grave

The Yacht Bungee was wrecked on a reef just seven miles north of the main entrance to Vanua Mbalavu. We were all keen to get out to see what was left of her. We motored gingerly across the lagoon to the windward shore where the wreck lay, clearly visible. I anchored nearby.

The yacht was lying on her starboard side, with much of the hull visible at low tide. We dinghied across, with masks, snorkels and fins. The debris- field spread a hundred yards down-current towards the lagoon. Knickers, clothes, cassette tapes, shoes, bags. Books were pulp. Jars and cans without labels. A bottle of wine. This was the private stuff of people, rudely exposed by sudden surprise. It brought strange emotions for Susie and Jana.

Crazy Fred’s ammunition, of several calibers, was washing around the hull. The mast, still standing, was tilted to a crazy angle. Some of the rigging wires were loose, showing it would soon fall. There were countless sharp edges to watch out for. I’d brought a basic tool kit, and salvaged a winch that was later to be part of my next yacht, MANDALA.

The girls cooked a celebration dinner that night aboard Hadar, anchored just off the Kimbombo Islet that had been their home for three nights. Some jars of pickles and the white wine off the wreck featured with great ceremony. Later, they wrote a very poetic note, briefly describing the history of the bottle, adding their names and addresses, and poked the note into the bottle. We sealed the cork with wax and posted the bottle in the sea. Over a year later a letter arrived at Jana’s USA home from someone north of New Guinea who’d found the bottle on his home island. That bottle found life amongst the reefs a lot safer than Bungee did.

We spent another week in Vanua Mbalavu, a vast and wonderful cruising destination in itself. This being soon after the British period, all navigational marks were in good condition, marking the myriad reefs along the paths around the island. We played and danced along the shores and reefs, a tight crew, bonded by all the good things that open minds, souls and bodies can do together as they explore a world of such beauty, yet kept alert by the ever- present danger that’s just one mistake away.

Across the Koro Sea to Suva

Now a month out of touch with fresh stores, our food was getting dull. Fish, onions and rice still taste much the same, no matter what you call it. We’d not seen a shop since Suva and only three yachts (not that they had any more than we did). We decided this chapter was over. It was time to find the markets – and Suva has the best.

The Koro Sea is a lovely place to sail. The sea is thousands of feet deep, with winds any fool can sail on and tall islands that only an idiot like Fred could hit. For the first 100 miles we flew the spinnaker on a very light easterly. Passing one island, a booby landed on the pulpit, only to be frequently buried by the collapsing spinnaker as the wind eased. Sorry for it, I gently reached out and scratched its neck, the bird writhing with pleasure like a pet chicken. I picked it up gingerly – they have serious beaks these birds of the gannet family – and brought it back to the cockpit where the others could stroke it. It spurned morsels of my latest bread, and my aging dried fish, clearly showing its distaste with a long, white squirt. Later, as we passed another island, it grew restless, then flew away – a nautical hitchhiker! The next morning, with two fresh walu aboard – one for us, one to trade – we anchored off a village on the next island to come up, and went ashore to bargain our fish for their vegetables. With little language but very clear intentions there was a lot of laughter from both sides as we mimed our hunger and our needs. We came away with a good basket of eggplants, taro, pawpaws and bananas in exchange for that superb fish they’d find hard to catch from dugout canoes.

And the next day, HADAR was anchored again off the Royal Suva Yacht Club. Jak couldn’t stop grinning. Susie and Jana had found a sailor who was safe to sail with and each got the bonus of a good man to love; and Jak and I had both found these lovely women to share adventures with.

The same team sailed the yacht back to New Zealand in November 1976. Jak and Jana stayed together long after they left the boat and Susie and I lived very happily together in Nelson for the next year until her visa ran out. To my eternal shame and sorrow I lacked the courage to ask her to marry me, and our paths diverged. Now, 38 years later, I am still in touch with both Jana (living in Sydney) and Susie (in California).

It was this cruise that confirmed me as a cruising sailor, the major warp woven with many and varied wefts into the fabric of my wonderful life. Of all the cruises I made over the next 35 years there was no other that got the recipe quite so right: take the right mix of young, perhaps naïve, spirits, flavour with a good dose of optimism, lots of tolerance and flexibility, add a fabulous cruising territory and spice it with young love, and find a good human drama to follow. The result was delicious! Mine was a very happy crew. For them, there was a good boat and a cautious skipper learning his skills carefully – even if he never learned to “lighten up” enough for Susie!