Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Sunday, November 28, 2010
Manual Timex Expedition T45581
Ticket No. 86-First Days in New Zealand ...
As of Thursday, October 28, 2010 - By Olivier
Thursday, October 28 in the morning, the profile of Islands Poor Knights Islands, off the coast of New Zealand, is outlined on a cloudy sky background.
We sailed from the island of Tofua six days earlier. A crossing rather quickly, despite the light airs of the end of the trail.
In France, it seems that the router official Meteo France, Sylvain Mondon, used to advise the stars of racing, laughing: analysis of local weather Jangada, it seems he told my brother Louis, who knows, it was better to have more air, that we get ashore. But me, unaware that the program is behind the board, I cut the shorter, and I'm going straight to try to arrive before dark ...
The damn wind abated, Marin and send me the gennaker. Then double laughingstock Volvo needed.
Water is passed to the green bottle, it's cool, visibility is incredibly good. Albatrosses soar endlessly in the wake, and we saw our first penguins of New Zealand, who dive at the approach of the boat.
change of scenery. We double
Bream Head to 15:00, and headed toward the river channel from Whangarei. It remains a time of flow, enough to reach Marsden Cove before backwards. We cross a few small boats that fish in the mouth. The green hills of New Zealand marched a few hundred meters. We see cows, sheep, houses surrounded by flower gardens, yachts at anchor on a small safe in each bay. These first images
delight us.
Aotearoa Kia Ora! Welcome to the Land of the Long White Cloud, the Maori name of this country addressed first by the Dutch in 1642 Abel Tasman and James Cook on the Endeavour in 1769, the first of his three voyages around the world. Marion Dufresne, the French navigator, will be less lucky: he lost his life June 12, 1772, killed (and ate ...) in a battle with the Maoris, whose motive seems to have been cut by crews Mascarin and the Marquis de Castries, the two ships (damage) of his expedition, moored Moturua Island in the Bay of Islands (just north of Whangarei), tree sacred to the Maori and therefore tapu, the famous kauri trees in New Zealand, whose wood was for repairs. Price to pay to learn the custom ...
Cook, a few years later, was assassinated in Hawaii for the same kind of pattern, then transgressed ignoring an element of the custom of the islanders.
Marion Dufresne was not also not alone in this plight: twelve Other crewmen were listed on the menu ... The next day, some sailors were sent ashore, will also be slaughtered. One can join the ships at anchor, swimming. Crozet the second Marion-Dufresne, who will then take command of the expedition, will be released shortly after an armed intervention by the crew: he alone had survived, standing on the ground to defend. Okay, well enjoy!
Today, the kauri are subject to special attention and special protection in New Zealand. The government treats the cultural heritage the two communities living together. I told the children to avoid the same fate that Mark Joseph (Marion Dufresne), it should not touch the kauri, OK? I seem to be fully understood ...
We identify the narrow channel leading to the Marsden Cove Marina, one of the sites approved by local authorities to carry out the formalities for entering the country. The end of a pontoon is reserved to the authorities. It is surrounded by impassable barriers, and that is where the boat arriving from abroad must imperatively moor. It is the custom berth, the quay of the quarantine. Q flag of the International Code of Signals stationed in the spreaders, prohibition of land pending the authorities. VHF, I am informed that their visit, given the hour of our arrival (18 H00), will occur until the next morning.
Bon, ben for the first sip of Steinlager at the corner bistro with my sweet, will have to wait a bit ...
The weather has cooled a lot with the wind coming from the (large) south, and at sunset it's downright chilly. Failing to go rinse my throat with malt, I begin, to the dismay of Barbara a mega-session of the boat capsizing, taking advantage of water jet Wharf quarantine, which has sufficient pressure to increase to half mast.
A simple happiness. Our catamaran seems to breathe with ease.
Night fell a long time when I finish the job, drenched and cold. I'm going to bed and fall asleep suddenly, the prospect of a full night's sleep, docked in calm waters after our crossing from Tonga, I evaded the route of dreams ...
The customs officer in New Zealand, which also combines the functions of immigration control (Well, not this con!) arrives to 9:30. He goes first to a yacht in New Zealand, arrived in the night from Fiji, and then comes to us. Very friendly, and at the same time very professional. My two e-mail reached him, he already knows all of the boat and crew. I pre-filled forms that the New Zealand government divides the islands of the Pacific bound for yachts wishing to visit New Zealand, we, we had found in Tonga, the coup that goes fast. He explained the customs status of the vessel during its stay in New Zealand tells me the maximum allowed of it (12months without any problem, renewable upon request and justification single), I calculate, and registered me approve and sign a document on the amount of tax that would have to pay if ever the boat is imported into the country. In short, contrary to how to make that known to us, essentially repressive, here, we play cards on the table. It also gives me a certificate of customs allowing me to make all purchases of equipment for the boat free of VAT, another unthinkable thing here.
He asked me if we stopped along the coast before come to Whangarei? Negative response. If we met ships at sea, approaching the coast? Yes, we crossed a trawler fishing yesterday morning at daybreak. I wonder what he was doing what he was called. In New Zealand, citizenship clearly shared by all that it is normal for a person reported to the authorities any notable potential interest their job. Which is to serve the community citizen, apparently. Here, it is considered good citizenship incumbent on everyone to live in the best country possible, and not as informers.
Then he explains the restrictions and import prohibitions, and motivations that go with it. He then asks me to confirm what I said, I read and confirmed. The officer is satisfied. He stamps our passports (visa of 3 months renewable), makes a quick turn into the floats, we announced the imminent arrival of the officer of the agency of bio-security of New Zealand, and leaves us wishing a good stay in his country.
It is simply the most pleasant customs which I never had.
His colleague, well-constructed is always so friendly. She takes the documents prepared, careful reading, and asked to quickly go to the kitchen and the galley. She unfolded a large black garbage bag well beefy, plus cob with apologies, the little that remains of fruits and vegetables from Tonga. And eggs. Direction the trash bag. It also would have taken Honey, if we had had. And meat, especially meat, but we have not. She repeats the question, but no, we will confirm that we have not. Not the least disgusting corned beef. He said they knew that the meat was destroyed on arrival, so we do not. As that senior board, supplies of fresh fish, I told him with regret that we eat mainly fish, and that we have on board, there beneath his feet, canning glass jars, sterilized UHT way home, the pressure cooker of the board. The Atlantic sailfish, marlin and Pacific, as desired. I remove the floor of the starboard float, and shows him the jars, it still remains a score. I had made to regret the idea that we should throw them coming here. But to our surprise, it does not pose any problem, it leaves us! I can not believe it. That is, the visit is over, she puts the big black bag in a second identical large black bag, carefully tied it all before landing on the platform of quarantine, and to proceed to his vehicle with his meager booty bio-security. It also leaves us wishing us a happy stay in kiwifruit. His visit did not last a quarter of an hour.
And we who, having read all prospectuses New zeds found in Tonga, had picked up any insect that the death had caught aboard Jangada ...
Go, en route to Whangarei Town Basin Marina, a ten miles upstream on the River. There are still two hours of flow is sufficient. Tyee, Canadian catamaran, arrived early that morning, is with us. The markup is nickel, the wooded banks on either side scrolling. Whangarei is Northland's largest city (50,000 inhabitants), and we find in approaching the commercial and industrial zones as we have not seen in years. It moves in this country!
On the pontoon, it was Brian Caulton in person, the marina manager who makes us the place and we take the hawsers. Service first, with a smile.
This will be our first impression by putting your foot down in New Zealand: the premises are nice, nice, friendly, warm, especially in the northern region of the north island, it seems. Well, as long as we eat is not as Marion Dufresne, as it should be fine in the south, I think.
We moored for a few days in the heart of the city: we see cars, grandmothers walking their grandchildren, neo-solid zeds wearing a hat like a farmer coming down Red Lion (the main competitor of Steinlager beer, but there are others!) on the terraces of cafes, concessions of Japanese cars and shops. Lots of shops. It fucked, Barbara and the kids are untenable, dropped like animals too long a leash in poverty it is true recurrent (apart from Papeete) small grocery crappy Pacific Islands ...
Note that I'm not the last found plenty to appreciate this for a while.
Happiness same material, is probably due to comparisons. Relativity.
The difficulty of happiness is perhaps the coup, when you can not compare ...
was then difficult to assess. To know his luck.
Because we are constantly immersed in abundance, for example.
What horror!
How I pity that poor Paris Hilton and (yes) Liliane Bettencourt! They
déconnent full blast, no longer know how to fool around more, but how could it be otherwise?
To avoid this, and to paraphrase my old friend and famous travel to Antarctica, Erik Orsenna ("Hi in the Grand Sud" by Erik Orsenna and Isabelle Autissier in Stock) one remedy: to travel! As possible, never consider stopping travel. And not first class.
Voyager, as a moral safety personal.
Yes, I think the trip helps keep things in their place.
to know oneself and also first, then reach out to others. Because few men, fortunately, that sufficient time to themselves.
Voyager, so.
For now, the trip turns materialism food! This is not what he does best. One of the first reflex of the crew, under the pretext of fetching fresh bread for tonight is really to rush to a cash dispenser of ANZ, a local bank, and rush in the nearest supermarket Pontoon Pak'nSave, the yellow sign.
And I'm not telling you: it's the shock. Visual. The shock of the abundance found. Rays
whole fruits, vegetables, meat, a fish counter worthy of Brittany North with extra-large mussels and smoked fish fillets, corner booze, white or red, incredibly well-stocked (we had to to worry about) with that of varieties of French origin, bread per m3 integers, and cheese, marked (here, we must get laid somewhere ...) "Sweet creamy pie" or "soft ripened brie!
I tell myself that the days of the boycott of French products in New Zealand, following the high-feat of arms of the French secret services of the day against the Rainbow Warrior fanch'mitt Greenpeace in the port Auckland (for the French nuclear tests at Mururoa and Fangataufa) in July 1985, is definitely over! France has gradually regained a prominent place in the heart of New Zealand.
Our sailors and sailing their beautiful machines, and sometimes the achievements of our national rugby team against the All Blacks (Ah, the match of 1999, remember? Half-final World Cup, France - New Zealand at Twickenham, led 24 -10, our players will end the match at 43 -31! What a game! Well, it's not every day ...) to impose here. Chabal is known and respected. Smiles predators during the haka, and the dismantling of a few conscientious New Zealand players have made it famous. The country comes alive at the time of the next World Cup rugby next year.
Well, after this first pass at Pak'nSave the regular menu is radically improved. The odds of atlantic sailfish and marlin in jars is pacific down, as I say, plummeting! Reappears in the cream sauces, meat is the menu for every meal, followed by cheese and a little red wine, with kiwifruit for dessert ...
The toilet the lip is also deserted. For a $ (NZD), the hot shower on the premises of the marina is recipe. Barbara is also running washing machines at full speed, everything goes, and I think at some point, just after the emptying of the two Volvo engines, I saved myself a little stroll in the drum Stainless ...!
The toothache, reappeared recently in large, are subject (excluding Social Security, we are no longer covered, when I think of what I paid him for decades ...!) to the local practitioner, it is not only the boat has to go stand ...
hurry to finalize our configuration of another family trip (with a 4 x 4), I started very quickly in disarming Jangada and the early work, before leaving water. Between the procedure for long term storage of the membrane desalination of seawater and thorough inspection of each terminating cable rigging dormant oil changes between revision levels of filter-engines and disassembly of the toilet pipes calcified by sea water, I connect to the internet site Trade Me, used by all New Zealanders to buy and sell of occasion. I'm looking for a second hand camper van, cheap.
Before our trip, we thought to Papa Tango Charlie (remember, the song of Schumann's death?), The Land Rover family dwelling on the long history, in a 20-foot container, the opposite direction on board a container ship. But it was too complicated and too expensive. Was our first idea to visit the country from north to south.
From time to time, since I was looking for an old camper, Barbara whispered to me that she does not see me driving this kind of gear. Too soon, too young ... Somehow, I was flattered. That said, if one day I can no longer travel differently, with more freedom and comfort on bad roads, and God willing, maybe I'd like my old father, who at 86 years, through Europe still driving his bulky gear ... He should be quiet, the old, but he has trouble. I know he is discreetly but carefully, our journey.
prices motorhomes are unreasonable for a few months. We change our tactics and I look at the 4 x 4. By observing the New Zealand market, I realize that the Land Rover Defender (our preferred model) are very rare here. The 4 x 4 Japanese monopolize the market. I select the Toyota Hilux Surf, and the Mitsubishi Pajero, many resale. 50 ads on pre-selected, I keep a dozen, then the half. The vehicles are in Auckland, Wellington and Christchurch ... We need to rent a car to go see them, and distances in New Zealand are important. No highways, kilometers convert quickly accumulate hours of driving. Not very welcoming, the short trip "purchase jalopy" looming for me. I ask Brian, the owner of the Marina, whom he must praise when he m'annone there a guy there on a small trimaran on the other side of the river, just tell him he sold his Land Rover! It reminds me to the phone, it's a Discovery 97, less than 100,000 kms, good condition, motor 4000 cm3 V8 petrol ... Uh, it consumes a bit, that sort of thing, right? Reminds me of my two former Jaguar XJ Series 3 (the most beautiful of the English brand XJ), who hummed the weekend in La Rochelle. But the guy told me he just let the vehicle consignment shop specializing in a box, signed contract, and he must now deal directly with them. Damn! Marin and I borrowed two bikes Tyee, and crash through the Port of Whangarei. Damned, the seller tells me that someone has already signed an option with funding. We will test drive, and to my surprise, the salesman made me sign a paper but do not come with us! It is the custom here. 10 km and a visual and aural later, the trial is successful. Fingers crossed, only a refusal to bank financing we deliver front line for the acquisition of the equipment. That evening, I phone, it's good! The way is clear, a banker still has raged
... We are with a new Land Rover Discovery for travel companion. It remains to equip it for camping, all our equipment has remained in France ...
soon as our little program implementation entitled "Change of Life! "Permitting, we fly walking on the trails around Whangarei.
Chlorophyll replaces iodine it is a joy.
Forest roads are nice, well marked, well maintained. Small rivers, streams, waterfalls abound in this green country. Ducks, cormorants, moorhens, gulls are everywhere. It is not a house that has its garden, lawn, perfectly mowed.
New Zealand is the country of the outdoors. Often, adjacent homes, we see a motor boat transported on a trailer, a 4 x 4 and a motorhome. And always the crucial gas barbecue, a respectable size.
With our new toy with four wheels, we leave in recognition on the east coast, north of Whangarei. The children took the rugby ball, and kites of La Tortue. With ours, we now have five!
the side of Bream Head, after Parua Bay, young bulls run through a huge meadow rolling and just sniff this funny thing that flies in the sky.
Girls worry, Marin is in charge, and I'm taking off with, behind me, my fan club cattle, I watch the corner of his eye.
After the sea air, the crew starts Jangada green for several months.
Olivier
First 
As of Thursday, October 28, 2010 - By Olivier
Thursday, October 28 in the morning, the profile of Islands Poor Knights Islands, off the coast of New Zealand, is outlined on a cloudy sky background.
We sailed from the island of Tofua six days earlier. A crossing rather quickly, despite the light airs of the end of the trail.
In France, it seems that the router official Meteo France, Sylvain Mondon, used to advise the stars of racing, laughing: analysis of local weather Jangada, it seems he told my brother Louis, who knows, it was better to have more air, that we get ashore. But me, unaware that the program is behind the board, I cut the shorter, and I'm going straight to try to arrive before dark ...
The damn wind abated, Marin and send me the gennaker. Then double laughingstock Volvo needed.
Water is passed to the green bottle, it's cool, visibility is incredibly good. Albatrosses soar endlessly in the wake, and we saw our first penguins of New Zealand, who dive at the approach of the boat.
change of scenery. We double
Bream Head to 15:00, and headed toward the river channel from Whangarei. It remains a time of flow, enough to reach Marsden Cove before backwards. We cross a few small boats that fish in the mouth. The green hills of New Zealand marched a few hundred meters. We see cows, sheep, houses surrounded by flower gardens, yachts at anchor on a small safe in each bay. These first images
delight us.
Aotearoa Kia Ora! Welcome to the Land of the Long White Cloud, the Maori name of this country addressed first by the Dutch in 1642 Abel Tasman and James Cook on the Endeavour in 1769, the first of his three voyages around the world. Marion Dufresne, the French navigator, will be less lucky: he lost his life June 12, 1772, killed (and ate ...) in a battle with the Maoris, whose motive seems to have been cut by crews Mascarin and the Marquis de Castries, the two ships (damage) of his expedition, moored Moturua Island in the Bay of Islands (just north of Whangarei), tree sacred to the Maori and therefore tapu, the famous kauri trees in New Zealand, whose wood was for repairs. Price to pay to learn the custom ...
Cook, a few years later, was assassinated in Hawaii for the same kind of pattern, then transgressed ignoring an element of the custom of the islanders.
Marion Dufresne was not also not alone in this plight: twelve Other crewmen were listed on the menu ... The next day, some sailors were sent ashore, will also be slaughtered. One can join the ships at anchor, swimming. Crozet the second Marion-Dufresne, who will then take command of the expedition, will be released shortly after an armed intervention by the crew: he alone had survived, standing on the ground to defend. Okay, well enjoy!
Today, the kauri are subject to special attention and special protection in New Zealand. The government treats the cultural heritage the two communities living together. I told the children to avoid the same fate that Mark Joseph (Marion Dufresne), it should not touch the kauri, OK? I seem to be fully understood ...
We identify the narrow channel leading to the Marsden Cove Marina, one of the sites approved by local authorities to carry out the formalities for entering the country. The end of a pontoon is reserved to the authorities. It is surrounded by impassable barriers, and that is where the boat arriving from abroad must imperatively moor. It is the custom berth, the quay of the quarantine. Q flag of the International Code of Signals stationed in the spreaders, prohibition of land pending the authorities. VHF, I am informed that their visit, given the hour of our arrival (18 H00), will occur until the next morning.
Bon, ben for the first sip of Steinlager at the corner bistro with my sweet, will have to wait a bit ...
The weather has cooled a lot with the wind coming from the (large) south, and at sunset it's downright chilly. Failing to go rinse my throat with malt, I begin, to the dismay of Barbara a mega-session of the boat capsizing, taking advantage of water jet Wharf quarantine, which has sufficient pressure to increase to half mast.
A simple happiness. Our catamaran seems to breathe with ease.
Night fell a long time when I finish the job, drenched and cold. I'm going to bed and fall asleep suddenly, the prospect of a full night's sleep, docked in calm waters after our crossing from Tonga, I evaded the route of dreams ...
The customs officer in New Zealand, which also combines the functions of immigration control (Well, not this con!) arrives to 9:30. He goes first to a yacht in New Zealand, arrived in the night from Fiji, and then comes to us. Very friendly, and at the same time very professional. My two e-mail reached him, he already knows all of the boat and crew. I pre-filled forms that the New Zealand government divides the islands of the Pacific bound for yachts wishing to visit New Zealand, we, we had found in Tonga, the coup that goes fast. He explained the customs status of the vessel during its stay in New Zealand tells me the maximum allowed of it (12months without any problem, renewable upon request and justification single), I calculate, and registered me approve and sign a document on the amount of tax that would have to pay if ever the boat is imported into the country. In short, contrary to how to make that known to us, essentially repressive, here, we play cards on the table. It also gives me a certificate of customs allowing me to make all purchases of equipment for the boat free of VAT, another unthinkable thing here.
He asked me if we stopped along the coast before come to Whangarei? Negative response. If we met ships at sea, approaching the coast? Yes, we crossed a trawler fishing yesterday morning at daybreak. I wonder what he was doing what he was called. In New Zealand, citizenship clearly shared by all that it is normal for a person reported to the authorities any notable potential interest their job. Which is to serve the community citizen, apparently. Here, it is considered good citizenship incumbent on everyone to live in the best country possible, and not as informers.
Then he explains the restrictions and import prohibitions, and motivations that go with it. He then asks me to confirm what I said, I read and confirmed. The officer is satisfied. He stamps our passports (visa of 3 months renewable), makes a quick turn into the floats, we announced the imminent arrival of the officer of the agency of bio-security of New Zealand, and leaves us wishing a good stay in his country.
It is simply the most pleasant customs which I never had.
His colleague, well-constructed is always so friendly. She takes the documents prepared, careful reading, and asked to quickly go to the kitchen and the galley. She unfolded a large black garbage bag well beefy, plus cob with apologies, the little that remains of fruits and vegetables from Tonga. And eggs. Direction the trash bag. It also would have taken Honey, if we had had. And meat, especially meat, but we have not. She repeats the question, but no, we will confirm that we have not. Not the least disgusting corned beef. He said they knew that the meat was destroyed on arrival, so we do not. As that senior board, supplies of fresh fish, I told him with regret that we eat mainly fish, and that we have on board, there beneath his feet, canning glass jars, sterilized UHT way home, the pressure cooker of the board. The Atlantic sailfish, marlin and Pacific, as desired. I remove the floor of the starboard float, and shows him the jars, it still remains a score. I had made to regret the idea that we should throw them coming here. But to our surprise, it does not pose any problem, it leaves us! I can not believe it. That is, the visit is over, she puts the big black bag in a second identical large black bag, carefully tied it all before landing on the platform of quarantine, and to proceed to his vehicle with his meager booty bio-security. It also leaves us wishing us a happy stay in kiwifruit. His visit did not last a quarter of an hour.
And we who, having read all prospectuses New zeds found in Tonga, had picked up any insect that the death had caught aboard Jangada ...
Go, en route to Whangarei Town Basin Marina, a ten miles upstream on the River. There are still two hours of flow is sufficient. Tyee, Canadian catamaran, arrived early that morning, is with us. The markup is nickel, the wooded banks on either side scrolling. Whangarei is Northland's largest city (50,000 inhabitants), and we find in approaching the commercial and industrial zones as we have not seen in years. It moves in this country!
On the pontoon, it was Brian Caulton in person, the marina manager who makes us the place and we take the hawsers. Service first, with a smile.
This will be our first impression by putting your foot down in New Zealand: the premises are nice, nice, friendly, warm, especially in the northern region of the north island, it seems. Well, as long as we eat is not as Marion Dufresne, as it should be fine in the south, I think.
We moored for a few days in the heart of the city: we see cars, grandmothers walking their grandchildren, neo-solid zeds wearing a hat like a farmer coming down Red Lion (the main competitor of Steinlager beer, but there are others!) on the terraces of cafes, concessions of Japanese cars and shops. Lots of shops. It fucked, Barbara and the kids are untenable, dropped like animals too long a leash in poverty it is true recurrent (apart from Papeete) small grocery crappy Pacific Islands ...
Note that I'm not the last found plenty to appreciate this for a while.
Happiness same material, is probably due to comparisons. Relativity.
The difficulty of happiness is perhaps the coup, when you can not compare ...
was then difficult to assess. To know his luck.
Because we are constantly immersed in abundance, for example.
What horror!
How I pity that poor Paris Hilton and (yes) Liliane Bettencourt! They
déconnent full blast, no longer know how to fool around more, but how could it be otherwise?
To avoid this, and to paraphrase my old friend and famous travel to Antarctica, Erik Orsenna ("Hi in the Grand Sud" by Erik Orsenna and Isabelle Autissier in Stock) one remedy: to travel! As possible, never consider stopping travel. And not first class.
Voyager, as a moral safety personal.
Yes, I think the trip helps keep things in their place.
to know oneself and also first, then reach out to others. Because few men, fortunately, that sufficient time to themselves.
Voyager, so.
For now, the trip turns materialism food! This is not what he does best. One of the first reflex of the crew, under the pretext of fetching fresh bread for tonight is really to rush to a cash dispenser of ANZ, a local bank, and rush in the nearest supermarket Pontoon Pak'nSave, the yellow sign.
And I'm not telling you: it's the shock. Visual. The shock of the abundance found. Rays
whole fruits, vegetables, meat, a fish counter worthy of Brittany North with extra-large mussels and smoked fish fillets, corner booze, white or red, incredibly well-stocked (we had to to worry about) with that of varieties of French origin, bread per m3 integers, and cheese, marked (here, we must get laid somewhere ...) "Sweet creamy pie" or "soft ripened brie!
I tell myself that the days of the boycott of French products in New Zealand, following the high-feat of arms of the French secret services of the day against the Rainbow Warrior fanch'mitt Greenpeace in the port Auckland (for the French nuclear tests at Mururoa and Fangataufa) in July 1985, is definitely over! France has gradually regained a prominent place in the heart of New Zealand.
Our sailors and sailing their beautiful machines, and sometimes the achievements of our national rugby team against the All Blacks (Ah, the match of 1999, remember? Half-final World Cup, France - New Zealand at Twickenham, led 24 -10, our players will end the match at 43 -31! What a game! Well, it's not every day ...) to impose here. Chabal is known and respected. Smiles predators during the haka, and the dismantling of a few conscientious New Zealand players have made it famous. The country comes alive at the time of the next World Cup rugby next year.
Well, after this first pass at Pak'nSave the regular menu is radically improved. The odds of atlantic sailfish and marlin in jars is pacific down, as I say, plummeting! Reappears in the cream sauces, meat is the menu for every meal, followed by cheese and a little red wine, with kiwifruit for dessert ...
The toilet the lip is also deserted. For a $ (NZD), the hot shower on the premises of the marina is recipe. Barbara is also running washing machines at full speed, everything goes, and I think at some point, just after the emptying of the two Volvo engines, I saved myself a little stroll in the drum Stainless ...!
The toothache, reappeared recently in large, are subject (excluding Social Security, we are no longer covered, when I think of what I paid him for decades ...!) to the local practitioner, it is not only the boat has to go stand ...
hurry to finalize our configuration of another family trip (with a 4 x 4), I started very quickly in disarming Jangada and the early work, before leaving water. Between the procedure for long term storage of the membrane desalination of seawater and thorough inspection of each terminating cable rigging dormant oil changes between revision levels of filter-engines and disassembly of the toilet pipes calcified by sea water, I connect to the internet site Trade Me, used by all New Zealanders to buy and sell of occasion. I'm looking for a second hand camper van, cheap.
Before our trip, we thought to Papa Tango Charlie (remember, the song of Schumann's death?), The Land Rover family dwelling on the long history, in a 20-foot container, the opposite direction on board a container ship. But it was too complicated and too expensive. Was our first idea to visit the country from north to south.
From time to time, since I was looking for an old camper, Barbara whispered to me that she does not see me driving this kind of gear. Too soon, too young ... Somehow, I was flattered. That said, if one day I can no longer travel differently, with more freedom and comfort on bad roads, and God willing, maybe I'd like my old father, who at 86 years, through Europe still driving his bulky gear ... He should be quiet, the old, but he has trouble. I know he is discreetly but carefully, our journey.
prices motorhomes are unreasonable for a few months. We change our tactics and I look at the 4 x 4. By observing the New Zealand market, I realize that the Land Rover Defender (our preferred model) are very rare here. The 4 x 4 Japanese monopolize the market. I select the Toyota Hilux Surf, and the Mitsubishi Pajero, many resale. 50 ads on pre-selected, I keep a dozen, then the half. The vehicles are in Auckland, Wellington and Christchurch ... We need to rent a car to go see them, and distances in New Zealand are important. No highways, kilometers convert quickly accumulate hours of driving. Not very welcoming, the short trip "purchase jalopy" looming for me. I ask Brian, the owner of the Marina, whom he must praise when he m'annone there a guy there on a small trimaran on the other side of the river, just tell him he sold his Land Rover! It reminds me to the phone, it's a Discovery 97, less than 100,000 kms, good condition, motor 4000 cm3 V8 petrol ... Uh, it consumes a bit, that sort of thing, right? Reminds me of my two former Jaguar XJ Series 3 (the most beautiful of the English brand XJ), who hummed the weekend in La Rochelle. But the guy told me he just let the vehicle consignment shop specializing in a box, signed contract, and he must now deal directly with them. Damn! Marin and I borrowed two bikes Tyee, and crash through the Port of Whangarei. Damned, the seller tells me that someone has already signed an option with funding. We will test drive, and to my surprise, the salesman made me sign a paper but do not come with us! It is the custom here. 10 km and a visual and aural later, the trial is successful. Fingers crossed, only a refusal to bank financing we deliver front line for the acquisition of the equipment. That evening, I phone, it's good! The way is clear, a banker still has raged
... We are with a new Land Rover Discovery for travel companion. It remains to equip it for camping, all our equipment has remained in France ...
soon as our little program implementation entitled "Change of Life! "Permitting, we fly walking on the trails around Whangarei.
Chlorophyll replaces iodine it is a joy.
Forest roads are nice, well marked, well maintained. Small rivers, streams, waterfalls abound in this green country. Ducks, cormorants, moorhens, gulls are everywhere. It is not a house that has its garden, lawn, perfectly mowed.
New Zealand is the country of the outdoors. Often, adjacent homes, we see a motor boat transported on a trailer, a 4 x 4 and a motorhome. And always the crucial gas barbecue, a respectable size.
With our new toy with four wheels, we leave in recognition on the east coast, north of Whangarei. The children took the rugby ball, and kites of La Tortue. With ours, we now have five!
the side of Bream Head, after Parua Bay, young bulls run through a huge meadow rolling and just sniff this funny thing that flies in the sky.
Girls worry, Marin is in charge, and I'm taking off with, behind me, my fan club cattle, I watch the corner of his eye.
After the sea air, the crew starts Jangada green for several months.
Olivier
Jangada heading southwest towards New Zealand in late October 2010.
We crossed the meridian 180 °, between Tonga and New Zealand. 180 degrees West or East, as you want! The antipodes!
quarterback with the Captain Adel, a pure delight!
On Thursday, October 28 in the afternoon, double Jangada Bream Head, we arrived in Whangarei!
Jangada the Whangarei Town Basin pontoon Marina. Water and electricity at will. River and flatwater. We had forgotten ...
nature walks around Whangarei, desires chlorophyll ...
New Zealand is the country of the outdoors. Everyone to remuscler calves!
Marino, new clothes for her return to civilization, to the waterfalls of Whangarei Falls.
House New Zealand, in Whangarei.
Water Outlet Jangada of the Chantier NorSand Boatyard, November 9.
Adelie and Simi build a shack behind Jangada under construction at Shipyard NorSand.
The Captain quickly found a new way to travel on land this time! A Land Rover Discovery 97, V8 ...!
La bella on the trail of Parua Bay, back to the fields!
Olivier, a kite survivor of the sinking of La Tortue, and young bulls of New Zealand for public ...
Children are shaped, the Captain has the lines drawn by three weeks of intensive work on the boat ...
landscape Northland (North Island) coast of New Zealand at the end of the austral spring.
Saturday, November 27, 2010
Ceramic Towel Rack Holders
Ticket No. 85a - Stories and drawings Adelie
CONTRACT:
CHARLIE:
My Best Friend:
Jangada MAG:
These are the stories and drawings of Adelie (thank you for Marichette layout)
As always the pictures of the blog, feel free to click on them to "zoom"
Maintain Confidentialy By Email
Ticket No. 85-A volcano on the island of Tofu, we found the Norton Bay and Cave Captain Bligh ...
- From Wednesday 20 to Friday, October 22, 2010.
By Olivier
On Wednesday, October 20, anchored the main village of Ha'apai, we complete our provisioning for our journey of 1125 miles to the New Zealand. I visited yesterday the authorities Panga to get our clearance outlet.
We left the Bay of Pang for a small anchorage south of the island of Tofanga, about ten miles to the west. Tomorrow morning, if weather trends continue, we will win the north coast of Tofu, about thirty miles west of Ha'apai, to wait for 36 to 48 hours, announced the rotation of winds in east-southeast, which will allow us to proceed to the southwest. To New Zealand.
Tofua is an inhospitable island, a volcanic cone plunging directly into the sea
There is no sheltered anchorage, but by carefully studying the chart I have, I noticed the existence of a small rocky outcrop covered with about twenty meters water north of the island. If it exists, we should be able to drop anchor, preventing it from falling into one of the abysmal pits of the Pacific Ocean ...
This will be an anchor precarious course. Another, you say! But the interest of the trip is also at this price.
conditions seem conducive to exceptionally Tofua my little expedition, following in the footsteps of Captain Bligh.
I have long believed, this small historical detour, but in Tonga crews who asked me to meet our sailing program in recent times did not seem to understand the reasons for my interest and recurrent for this detour by Tofua uninviting. (The living is not just tofu, visit this island and its neighbor Kao is suggested in any guide navigation of Tonga.) Probably felt they does not even interest me in the history of maritime expeditions. They ignored Tofua likely that had taken place in the late eighteenth century, an episode marking the legendary mutiny on HMS Bounty.
One episode followed by a maritime feat little known but very real, growing all marine warned to look with one eye more nuanced than the common grades of moviegoers Marine Lieutenant William Bligh, disreputable, Commander the Bounty, but landed in force by the mutineers. Most sailors, let alone the general public who have not bothered to cross-check sources believe that the famous mutiny led by the handsome lieutenant Fletcher Christian (played successively by cinema Clark Gable, Marlon Brando or Mel Gibson) against the evil Captain William Bligh was held from Tahiti, where this is true, most of the sailors on the Bounty, remained more than 5 month call, had found soft ties with beautiful women and lascivious vahinées
... No, she would be in Tonga, about thirty miles off ... tofu! Both
tell you right away: the true story of the mutiny on the Bounty (its genesis, its reasons, its conduct, the distribution of marine vessel on the one hand, on the boat the other, then the result of this incredible saga, the Austral Islands first, then to Tahiti to Pitcairn on the one hand, on board the boat to Timor Bligh then Batavia on the other, and England finally court-martialled for Bligh first, then a minority of the crew, is infinitely more complex, and therefore exciting, the film has shown in its various interpretations. Similarly, the temperament and the true personality of the two main actors of this epic, Lieutenant Bligh (Commander) and the commanding officer of 3rd quarter Christian (at wrongly presented as Second Captain, position held on board by John Fryer, an officer removed it is true enough) are not as simple as the film chose to show it to seduce the public. In short, you'll understand that Fletcher Christian was not as nice, good, fair, and that it (he was later murdered by the Tahitians came to live with him in Pitcairn) and William Bligh was not as nasty, nasty and that bad: Not only will it be acquitted by the court martial of the British Admiralty, but he will be promoted to captain, will leave for Tahiti with the same mission (to bring back breadfruit plants - uru - to implant in the British colonies of the Atlantic, especially in Jamaica) two years later, his mission will succeed with two ships, will be welcomed by Admiral Nelson at the Battle of Copenhagen in 1801, will be appointed Governor of New South Wales (the largest province of Australia), then became vice-admiral
... But that would take too long to tell. Already know ...
But, after all, nobody is forced to read me!
Returning For those interested, the events of tofu.
Bligh wrote in "Relationship of the removal of the ship The Bounty" (original title: "A narrative of The mutiny on board His Majesty Ship The Bounty"), in short his story:
"I fit the O- Tahiti 4 April 1789, having on board 1,015 breadfruit plants, and several other fruit trees very precious of these countries, which we had gathered by a series of constant attention for five months and ten days, and were at the time of departure, in the state of the vegetation the more perfect.
April 11, I discovered an island ... This island is named Yeah by natural-tu-tacks (Aitutaki, Cook Islands). On the 24th we anchored at Annamouca (Nomuka, to Ha'apai, Tonga), one of the Friendly Islands, where we completed our stock of water and wood, and we set off again on 28 to 27 ... The evening Because of the wind too weak, we were not yet out of these islands, and tonight I did wear the cape to the island of Tofo (tofu). The Master (Fryer, mate) commanded the first quarter, the gunner (Peckover, master gunner, watch leader) than midnight, and Mr. Christian (officer, shift supervisor), one of the officers, the morning ; thus the tours of duty were set for that night.
Just before sunrise, Mr Christian with coxswain (Churchill, a violent, later murdered by the islanders in Tahiti), the second gunner (Mills, later murdered by the Tahitians to Pitcairn on board with rebels) and Burkitt sailor named Thomas (one of three sailors on the Bounty later sentenced to death and hanged by the Admiralty to the large yard of HMS Brunswick, October 20, 1792), entered my room while I slept again, they seized me, I garrottèrent hands behind his back, threatening me kill me instantly if I spoke or if I was the slightest noise ...
Christian had a sword in hand, others were armed with rifles with bayonets. They roused me from my bed, I dragged in his shirt on the forecastle, causing me great pain for me hands tied knots tight. I asked them the reason for this violence, but no reply, they threatened me to kill me instantly if I'm not silent. "
April 28, 1789 (at the time, counting down the days Mariners 12:00 to 12:00) 24 days after sailing from Tahiti, 30 miles southwest of tofu. : Bligh and 18 of his men landed in the boat on the Bounty, which, overloaded, no longer can count.
(You should know that historically, the real assets of the Bounty mutineers are not more than 7 or 8, on a crew of 45 persons, besides the Captain. 5 sailors would have liked more follow their captain on board the boat, which can receive and retain the Christian, he needs them on board the Bounty.)
Bligh:
"We let the bosun and sailors who were destined for the boat, the freedom to pick up the rope yarn, canvas, lines, sails, some ropes, a tierce containing about 98 pints of water, and took the carpenter's toolbox. Mr Samuel (accounting board) took a hundred and fifty pounds of biscuit and a small quantity of rum and wine. He also won a district to take the height and a compass, but he was forbidden under pain of death, to touch or card, or ephemeris, or book of astronomical observations, or sextant, clock, or any of my surveys or drawings.
... I asked a few weapons: they laughed at me, saying I did not need it ... However, after we had spun the boat from behind, we threw four swords. ...
Without further ceremony, holding me by the rope that tied my hands ... I was thrown off the edge strength, and then they untied my hands. As soon as I was in the boat, they spun us behind the vessel by means of a rope: we threw a few pieces of pork, some clothing, and swords which I have already mentioned.
... After making me suffer a thousand jokes and keeping me well for some time to be their toy, they finally left us unfit rebels go adrift on the great ocean. ... "
" It was essential to a party thinking: my first resolution was to get a supply of water and fruit bread in Tofo. ...
Wednesday April 29. ... We had won so much wind, using our oars, we were able to sail with a light breeze from the East that arose then. However, it was already nightfall when we arrived in Tofo, where I was flattered to land, but the ribs found themselves so steep and so full of rocks, I was obliged to abandon this project and keep me all night under the lee of the island, supported by two oars, for there was no anchorage. Having ordered accordingly, I served to each man a half-pint of grog, and each gave as much as he could, rest our sad situation allowed to take.
the morning at daybreak, we followed the coast to find a landing location, it was not until ten o'clock or so, we discovered a rocky cove in the northwest of the Island: I threw the hook to twenty fathoms distant rocks. The blade is heavily deployed ashore. ... I watched this
Cove 19 ° 41 'South latitude. It is located in the north-west of Tofo, the most northwest of the islands of Friends.
... ... We landed and we entered the island, after being hoisted on top of a cliff in taking us to lianas that the natives of the place had been fixed there to purposely, and it was the only path by where one could enter the country. ...
around the country who is covered with lava and offers the most sorry.
... In the bottom of the cove, there was a remote cave about seventy yards from the seashore, where he had a width of about fifty yards from the rocks that lined the shore, and the only passage through which one could come to us from inside the island, was the one I described: this situation put us in the shelter of a surprise and I resolved to spend the night ashore with some of my people, to leave more space for others to sleep at home in the boat with the Master. I ordered this officer stand on one to grab and make the quarter to prevent an attack.
... I stared around for the night shift and those who were not on duty went to bed to sleep in the cave. We kept a good fire in front of the entrance. "
Bligh and his men stayed five days in the Bay of Tofu, from 29 April to 3 May 1789, trying to build, painstakingly, water and supplies. Gradually, relations with the island, more and more numerous, deteriorated, until the denouement.
"This position was not smiling for long, the Indians began coming in droves and I fancied he was going against us something. Soon after, they attempted to haul the boat ashore, I threatened Ifaou (one of the leaders of the island) lifted the sword, to force by then to make them let go, I am successful and all was quiet.
... I continued to buy the few fruits that brought us bread and a few spears to arm my world, for we had all weapons that four swords, two of them remained in the boat. As we had no way to improve our position I informed my world I would expect the sunset, hoping that this time we could find some way to get out of trouble. I tell them that we could not go into at this moment, we see no forced break this whole fighting, which would be more feasible at night, that by then we would try to pick up gradually in the launch everything we bought. The shore was lined with Indians, and was heard on all sides the sound of stones which they held in each hand, striking against each other and I knew that this signal for the attack.
...
soon as dinner was over, we began gradually to move our belongings into the boat, it was a difficult task due to strong waves, which were spread along the coast. I watched closely the movements of the Indians, whose number was still rising ... They took counsel together and showed me everything that we would be attacked. I sent orders to Master to hold the boat ashore accosted when we would go down, so that we could all embark promptly.
... The sun was ready to lie down when I gave the word to start ... we got ready at the moment to attack ... I ordered the carpenter to stay with me until all the others were on board. We all entered into the boat with the exception of one sailor, as I was getting into, jumped down and went to the mooring stern dismasted, despite the cries made to induce him to return The Master and the people of the crew who helped me out of the waves to enter the boat.
Scarcely was I on board two hundred or so, began the attack, the unfortunate man who was on the ground, was knocked out, and stones began to fly like hail.
Several Indians seized the mooring stern to try to pull the boat ashore, and they would certainly come if I did not lightly cut the rope with a knife I had in my pocket. We halama immediately on the hook, each of us is already more or less injured. I live in now five Indians around the unfortunate sailor they had killed, and two of them beat her head with rocks they had in their hands.
... I saw them fill their canoes with stones, and twelve men come to us to renew the fight, and they did so vigorously that they had almost come to us after intermission.
... We took off with our paddles. But the Indians paddled all around us, and we were obliged to receive their shots without being able to retaliate with stones that fell into the boat, and in this respect, the game was very uneven.
... Seeing this, I imagined the ruse to throw overboard some clothes, losing time to pick them up, night fell, they abandoned their pursuit and returned to earth, and left us free to think our sad condition.
The man whom I had lost was John Norton, was his second trip with me as quartermaster, and was a great topic (and a hell of a template, it seems) that loss has been very sensitive. He left an aged father, so I was told, to whom he gave help. "
Bligh then compares the attack Tofua it comes to live with the one he suffered in Hawaii a few years ago, when the death of the famous Captain James Cook (properly, if we might say, cut into pieces).
"Here I was unarmed, and the Indians knew and we were very lucky they had not started the attack while we were in the cave, in which case, our loss would have been inevitable and there we would have stayed else to do but to fight, ready to close and sell our lives dearly, what I had found each fully resolved to assist me. ...
We were sailing along the strip west of the island of Tofo, and I thought about it was more convenient to make, when all gathered and asked me to bring them back to our homeland.
I tell them that we had no hope for relief to the island of Timor, far away from us more than 1200 miles, where he is a Dutch settlement ...
Thereupon they agreed all to live with an ounce of cookie and an eighth of a pint of water per day. I made the visit to our store of food, and having recommended to be faithful to this promise, as the most sacred oath, we came to the open sea
We
entreprîmes therefore, in a boat open, long only 21 feet 9 inches, 18 men and carrying overloaded, with no map, and with only the aid of geographical knowledge that my memory could provide me ... we started, I say , through this vast sea including navigation is almost unknown.
I found myself very happy in this position alarming, that all my companions in misfortune were less affected than me. "
48 days later, Bligh and his 17 companions arrived, albeit in a pitiful state, lean and hungry but alive, on arrival, after overcome many dangers. Bravo all the same (ugly) Mr Bligh, to have achieved this high because of shipping.
must, on this point, you justice.
You had, whatever people may say, talent, and courage.
Because Tofua link to Timor, a distance of 1,206 nautical leagues, this is still a journey of 3,618 nautical miles or 6700 kilometers ... Without chart.
And 21 feet 9 inches for an open boat open to the wind and the sea, it is only 6.63 meters in length.
Width 6 feet 4 inches, or 1.93 meter.
With 18 men on board, the freeboard of the boat was only 20 centimeters ...
Bligh has brought all his men safely.
With the exception of poor Norton of course, killed by the islanders in the cove northwest of Tofu, heckled at the apparatus of the boat.
Bligh was then 35 years, the two young sailors in the boat 17 years, the two eldest aged 42.
Whatever the merits and faults of Captain William Bligh as commander, was undoubtedly also a good Marine. My personal belief is that the testing of the mutiny he experienced, having probably largely aroused, had to do with him thereafter, and from the boat journey to Timor, a leader of a pretty stamp, which necessarily had to think long and the art of controlling the men. And change its ways.
How exciting story! For all the incredible ingredients of myth are combined.
Interested? At least read the trilogy, although fictional, but above all well documented by Charles Nordhoff and James Norman Hall in Phoebus.
And we board our catamaran sailors modest and unknown, some two hundred years later, we are only ten marine leagues of Tofu, in the middle of the Pacific!
Not to procrastinate, we're just not there to cultivate the regrets!
Here we go! Cap on tofu!
Thursday, October 21. We leave the Ha'apai, are heading north-west, the massive volcanic cone that faces us. The wind is almost zero, we move to the engine. We see in the distance a whale blowing at the surface. An hour later, we just avoid the collision with another animal. Or more accurately, the monster, which crosses through to us, dives under the boat in extremis, even before I could throw myself on the engine controls. These large animals are much more clever than their impressive body may suggest. Humpback whales are fond of the west of Tonga. In early afternoon, we drive along the coast north of Tofua a few tens of meters. The eye on the sounder, I watch the recovery of funds that would confirm the existence of language submerged rock on which I hope to be anchored. I'm not really a backup solution, waiting to sail to New Zealand, but must first wait until the tide is turning for us to be more favorable. Fingers crossed ... Some
minutes later, the rock is well advanced at the rendezvous, there beneath our wings, and making several comings and goings from the unit, I located a proper anchorage for 18/20 meters deep. Not really sheltered, but very welcome.
However, we continue our journey north-west of the island. I have an aerial photo that shows the existence of three bays in the north-west of tofu. We drive along the coast a short distance, and I warn my people that most likely is that the first loop is indeed that of the sloop the Bounty. I reread the descriptions of Bligh noting every detail, the assumption is both more consistent with the text, but also with what I see on the aerial photo.
Jangada crosses the northwestern tip of tofu, and the little creek gently opens our eyes. The surf breaks violently. We see immediately the black spot in a cave in the vertical wall at the foot of the cliff. My pulse quickens, my belief is strengthened. Access to the bottom of the loop is as described by Bligh: not easy. Even with a southeast wind. Needless to imagine the show by the west wind ...
To remove any doubt, we continue to open the other two small loops visible on the aerial image, to the west end of Tofua .. But no doubt is possible, these two small cracks in the line of coast are overcome by impassable vertical walls of several tens of meters high.
We return to the cove northwest. The handle of the Loyalists sailors on the Bounty.
I can not help but make a few ripples in the water in the cove.
I observe. And I think.
There, before our eyes in this small bay inhospitable, the 18 men landed force on the boat on the Bounty with their captain stayed five days, there is a little over two centuries, before undertaking an incredible journey by sea in the western Pacific.
And John Norton, the solid quarter-master of 36 years which, in good sailor, was not like cutting ropes, died there on the rocks, beaten to death by the Tongan island of stones.
What have they done to her body? Nobody knows.
In this regard, do you know that a journalist named Luis Marsden that can be described - with little risk of committing an appalling mistake - the royal fool, saw fit to write, in March 1968, an article in National Geographic Magazine, stating that he had located, supporting photographs, and the cove where the cave had stayed Bligh and his men, on the southeast coast of tofu! Yes, south-east! At the exact opposite of historical truth, and logic maritime sailors. He even, in its total lack of ethics, describe a tomb which he attributed to John Norton ...! In short, his seamanship was to be like his honesty, kept to a minimum because the shore south-east coast of Tofua is exposed to winds, it is thus defeated by the waves. Simply reading notes Bligh (who reported on several occasions during his stay in Tofua a sustained wind of south-east) would have to go do exactly the opposite of the island ... As a tomb attributed to the unfortunate Norton I do not think I am right in saying that this concern does not touch the spirit of one second Tofua island in 1789. The most likely hypothesis is that, according to the customs of the time, his body had to be cut up and distributed among the chiefs of the island, as a trophy of battle, if not partially ate ... No one will ever know, it is better to refrain from any conclusive statement about this. Like what, even a great magazine generally deemed genuine can print anything ...
I note in passing, reading the screen of our GPS, as Captain Bligh did wrong that a little more than one arc minute (2 km) by calculating the latitude of the loop of Tofu.
is a very good accuracy, the justification is probably the fact that having spent several days in this place, he had to make several readings of the height of the sun when what is known in the meridian celestial navigation. This record, the only day that is independent of the precise measurement of time (the observer is content to wait for the solar disk rises and falls corresponding maximum angular height, before performing the calculations of spherical trigonometry) , had to be used to stall the Bligh few instruments at its disposal, including Peckover's watch, the master-gunner, who served until it stops, a little less than a month later.
Jangada We will anchor in the area previously identified, and with Marin, we're going on schedule to close the loop. But our attention is attracted by a blast of whale that sprays a few tens of meters. We decided to approach it, and find a humpback whale (humpback whale) adult who swims with her calf. We follow a time, they did not seem frightened by our presence unobtrusive.
We return to the ship to ship and Adelie Barbara, who warned, following the animals through binoculars for several minutes. We flippers, masks and snorkels. We soon find
these peaceful giants meet in the calm waters downwind of tofu. The mother as a small twenty meters, 16 to 18 say the calf 5 to 6 meters. More accustomed to eating krill in the cold waters of Antarctica, Humpback whales back in the tropics of farrowing and the first weeks of life in their small, before undertaking the long journey back to the sixtieth. Calves, to live, must learn to grow up quickly.
front of us, the young animal performs some jumps specific to this case. I guess he had to watch his mother. He did not leave more than a few meters, and the graceful ballet has something magical. We approach very near, engine off and see the clear water in the immense body of the mother, almost vertical, which pushes the calf's muzzle to the surface. Sometimes we find ourselves above the animals, and I am forced to restart the engine swiftly to get away a little.
Marin wants to jump into the water, but it's a bit of apprehension. I encourage him, telling him that these animals, despite their size, are not naturally aggressive, and they show great precision swimming. When I told him that he will perhaps not twice in a lifetime opportunity to swim a few meters a whale about 20 feet, he decided, and dives. It will
several minutes in the water near the animals, though we can detect in them the slightest movement of discomfort caused by our presence.
few moments I jump into the water, and take from those few seconds near a giant a strong sense of humility. The inordinate eye of the whale, especially, sparkles with intelligence, watching me a few yards away. Impressive.
Adelie also launches, but when she was in the water, it gets scared and goes.
Barbara is fascinated, she puts her mask and fins and will look more closely at the magnificent spectacle.
giant and gave us little more than an hour of unforgettable natural spectacle.
Night falls on the island-volcano tofu.
The silhouette of our sailboat at anchor in one of these deserted places, stands out against the skyline.
It is too late to land in the Cove Norton (I call and now too small, it bears no name on the card, but it seems normal to give it that name). This will be tomorrow.
the night the wind shifted, with a few hours ahead of schedule, east-southeast. I am informed by the work of the chain, which noisily wart on the bottom rocks, while the angle of pull is altered by the change of wind direction.
As expected, tomorrow we will sail to New Zealand. This is the beginning of the slot wind that we were told several days ago by Guru of Meteorology of New Zealand Bob Mc Davitt.
The sun rises over our anchorage precarious. Quickly swallow a bowl of coffee and we start with Marin to Cove Norton. We identify the places, then I arrived and remains in the annex at some distance from the surf.
I found a path to the black rocks where the boat should be moored by the stern, with a hook on the front. These same rocks on which I can imagine the violent images of the last moments of life of the quartermaster of the Bounty.
And, about fifty yards away, I find myself in front of the cave where the crew stayed loyal sailors of Captain Bligh. The sea is deposited driftwood, boulders and uprooted from the cliff storms from the west.
I spend a few moments to imagine the scenes that have taken place.
Then I go back on strike, just happy being here so far.
Marin gets me, we go on board and prepare for the crossing Jangada ahead.
Towards 10H00, everything is ready. We note the anchor with difficulty, we must return to the water to understand the complicated trajectory of the chain in the rocks, following the turning of the night, and maneuver accordingly.
She finally break free.
Whales are invisible this morning. Long life to you ...
We spend one last time before the little cove Norton, and send the web.
Hi, Captain Bligh!
Road to Aotearoa, the land of the long white cloud. Olivier
- From Wednesday 20 to Friday, October 22, 2010.
By Olivier
On Wednesday, October 20, anchored the main village of Ha'apai, we complete our provisioning for our journey of 1125 miles to the New Zealand. I visited yesterday the authorities Panga to get our clearance outlet.
We left the Bay of Pang for a small anchorage south of the island of Tofanga, about ten miles to the west. Tomorrow morning, if weather trends continue, we will win the north coast of Tofu, about thirty miles west of Ha'apai, to wait for 36 to 48 hours, announced the rotation of winds in east-southeast, which will allow us to proceed to the southwest. To New Zealand.
Tofua is an inhospitable island, a volcanic cone plunging directly into the sea
There is no sheltered anchorage, but by carefully studying the chart I have, I noticed the existence of a small rocky outcrop covered with about twenty meters water north of the island. If it exists, we should be able to drop anchor, preventing it from falling into one of the abysmal pits of the Pacific Ocean ...
This will be an anchor precarious course. Another, you say! But the interest of the trip is also at this price.
conditions seem conducive to exceptionally Tofua my little expedition, following in the footsteps of Captain Bligh.
I have long believed, this small historical detour, but in Tonga crews who asked me to meet our sailing program in recent times did not seem to understand the reasons for my interest and recurrent for this detour by Tofua uninviting. (The living is not just tofu, visit this island and its neighbor Kao is suggested in any guide navigation of Tonga.) Probably felt they does not even interest me in the history of maritime expeditions. They ignored Tofua likely that had taken place in the late eighteenth century, an episode marking the legendary mutiny on HMS Bounty.
One episode followed by a maritime feat little known but very real, growing all marine warned to look with one eye more nuanced than the common grades of moviegoers Marine Lieutenant William Bligh, disreputable, Commander the Bounty, but landed in force by the mutineers. Most sailors, let alone the general public who have not bothered to cross-check sources believe that the famous mutiny led by the handsome lieutenant Fletcher Christian (played successively by cinema Clark Gable, Marlon Brando or Mel Gibson) against the evil Captain William Bligh was held from Tahiti, where this is true, most of the sailors on the Bounty, remained more than 5 month call, had found soft ties with beautiful women and lascivious vahinées
... No, she would be in Tonga, about thirty miles off ... tofu! Both
tell you right away: the true story of the mutiny on the Bounty (its genesis, its reasons, its conduct, the distribution of marine vessel on the one hand, on the boat the other, then the result of this incredible saga, the Austral Islands first, then to Tahiti to Pitcairn on the one hand, on board the boat to Timor Bligh then Batavia on the other, and England finally court-martialled for Bligh first, then a minority of the crew, is infinitely more complex, and therefore exciting, the film has shown in its various interpretations. Similarly, the temperament and the true personality of the two main actors of this epic, Lieutenant Bligh (Commander) and the commanding officer of 3rd quarter Christian (at wrongly presented as Second Captain, position held on board by John Fryer, an officer removed it is true enough) are not as simple as the film chose to show it to seduce the public. In short, you'll understand that Fletcher Christian was not as nice, good, fair, and that it (he was later murdered by the Tahitians came to live with him in Pitcairn) and William Bligh was not as nasty, nasty and that bad: Not only will it be acquitted by the court martial of the British Admiralty, but he will be promoted to captain, will leave for Tahiti with the same mission (to bring back breadfruit plants - uru - to implant in the British colonies of the Atlantic, especially in Jamaica) two years later, his mission will succeed with two ships, will be welcomed by Admiral Nelson at the Battle of Copenhagen in 1801, will be appointed Governor of New South Wales (the largest province of Australia), then became vice-admiral
... But that would take too long to tell. Already know ...
But, after all, nobody is forced to read me!
Returning For those interested, the events of tofu.
Bligh wrote in "Relationship of the removal of the ship The Bounty" (original title: "A narrative of The mutiny on board His Majesty Ship The Bounty"), in short his story:
"I fit the O- Tahiti 4 April 1789, having on board 1,015 breadfruit plants, and several other fruit trees very precious of these countries, which we had gathered by a series of constant attention for five months and ten days, and were at the time of departure, in the state of the vegetation the more perfect.
April 11, I discovered an island ... This island is named Yeah by natural-tu-tacks (Aitutaki, Cook Islands). On the 24th we anchored at Annamouca (Nomuka, to Ha'apai, Tonga), one of the Friendly Islands, where we completed our stock of water and wood, and we set off again on 28 to 27 ... The evening Because of the wind too weak, we were not yet out of these islands, and tonight I did wear the cape to the island of Tofo (tofu). The Master (Fryer, mate) commanded the first quarter, the gunner (Peckover, master gunner, watch leader) than midnight, and Mr. Christian (officer, shift supervisor), one of the officers, the morning ; thus the tours of duty were set for that night.
Just before sunrise, Mr Christian with coxswain (Churchill, a violent, later murdered by the islanders in Tahiti), the second gunner (Mills, later murdered by the Tahitians to Pitcairn on board with rebels) and Burkitt sailor named Thomas (one of three sailors on the Bounty later sentenced to death and hanged by the Admiralty to the large yard of HMS Brunswick, October 20, 1792), entered my room while I slept again, they seized me, I garrottèrent hands behind his back, threatening me kill me instantly if I spoke or if I was the slightest noise ...
Christian had a sword in hand, others were armed with rifles with bayonets. They roused me from my bed, I dragged in his shirt on the forecastle, causing me great pain for me hands tied knots tight. I asked them the reason for this violence, but no reply, they threatened me to kill me instantly if I'm not silent. "
April 28, 1789 (at the time, counting down the days Mariners 12:00 to 12:00) 24 days after sailing from Tahiti, 30 miles southwest of tofu. : Bligh and 18 of his men landed in the boat on the Bounty, which, overloaded, no longer can count.
(You should know that historically, the real assets of the Bounty mutineers are not more than 7 or 8, on a crew of 45 persons, besides the Captain. 5 sailors would have liked more follow their captain on board the boat, which can receive and retain the Christian, he needs them on board the Bounty.)
Bligh:
"We let the bosun and sailors who were destined for the boat, the freedom to pick up the rope yarn, canvas, lines, sails, some ropes, a tierce containing about 98 pints of water, and took the carpenter's toolbox. Mr Samuel (accounting board) took a hundred and fifty pounds of biscuit and a small quantity of rum and wine. He also won a district to take the height and a compass, but he was forbidden under pain of death, to touch or card, or ephemeris, or book of astronomical observations, or sextant, clock, or any of my surveys or drawings.
... I asked a few weapons: they laughed at me, saying I did not need it ... However, after we had spun the boat from behind, we threw four swords. ...
Without further ceremony, holding me by the rope that tied my hands ... I was thrown off the edge strength, and then they untied my hands. As soon as I was in the boat, they spun us behind the vessel by means of a rope: we threw a few pieces of pork, some clothing, and swords which I have already mentioned.
... After making me suffer a thousand jokes and keeping me well for some time to be their toy, they finally left us unfit rebels go adrift on the great ocean. ... "
" It was essential to a party thinking: my first resolution was to get a supply of water and fruit bread in Tofo. ...
Wednesday April 29. ... We had won so much wind, using our oars, we were able to sail with a light breeze from the East that arose then. However, it was already nightfall when we arrived in Tofo, where I was flattered to land, but the ribs found themselves so steep and so full of rocks, I was obliged to abandon this project and keep me all night under the lee of the island, supported by two oars, for there was no anchorage. Having ordered accordingly, I served to each man a half-pint of grog, and each gave as much as he could, rest our sad situation allowed to take.
the morning at daybreak, we followed the coast to find a landing location, it was not until ten o'clock or so, we discovered a rocky cove in the northwest of the Island: I threw the hook to twenty fathoms distant rocks. The blade is heavily deployed ashore. ... I watched this
Cove 19 ° 41 'South latitude. It is located in the north-west of Tofo, the most northwest of the islands of Friends.
... ... We landed and we entered the island, after being hoisted on top of a cliff in taking us to lianas that the natives of the place had been fixed there to purposely, and it was the only path by where one could enter the country. ...
around the country who is covered with lava and offers the most sorry.
... In the bottom of the cove, there was a remote cave about seventy yards from the seashore, where he had a width of about fifty yards from the rocks that lined the shore, and the only passage through which one could come to us from inside the island, was the one I described: this situation put us in the shelter of a surprise and I resolved to spend the night ashore with some of my people, to leave more space for others to sleep at home in the boat with the Master. I ordered this officer stand on one to grab and make the quarter to prevent an attack.
... I stared around for the night shift and those who were not on duty went to bed to sleep in the cave. We kept a good fire in front of the entrance. "
Bligh and his men stayed five days in the Bay of Tofu, from 29 April to 3 May 1789, trying to build, painstakingly, water and supplies. Gradually, relations with the island, more and more numerous, deteriorated, until the denouement.
"This position was not smiling for long, the Indians began coming in droves and I fancied he was going against us something. Soon after, they attempted to haul the boat ashore, I threatened Ifaou (one of the leaders of the island) lifted the sword, to force by then to make them let go, I am successful and all was quiet.
... I continued to buy the few fruits that brought us bread and a few spears to arm my world, for we had all weapons that four swords, two of them remained in the boat. As we had no way to improve our position I informed my world I would expect the sunset, hoping that this time we could find some way to get out of trouble. I tell them that we could not go into at this moment, we see no forced break this whole fighting, which would be more feasible at night, that by then we would try to pick up gradually in the launch everything we bought. The shore was lined with Indians, and was heard on all sides the sound of stones which they held in each hand, striking against each other and I knew that this signal for the attack.
...
soon as dinner was over, we began gradually to move our belongings into the boat, it was a difficult task due to strong waves, which were spread along the coast. I watched closely the movements of the Indians, whose number was still rising ... They took counsel together and showed me everything that we would be attacked. I sent orders to Master to hold the boat ashore accosted when we would go down, so that we could all embark promptly.
... The sun was ready to lie down when I gave the word to start ... we got ready at the moment to attack ... I ordered the carpenter to stay with me until all the others were on board. We all entered into the boat with the exception of one sailor, as I was getting into, jumped down and went to the mooring stern dismasted, despite the cries made to induce him to return The Master and the people of the crew who helped me out of the waves to enter the boat.
Scarcely was I on board two hundred or so, began the attack, the unfortunate man who was on the ground, was knocked out, and stones began to fly like hail.
Several Indians seized the mooring stern to try to pull the boat ashore, and they would certainly come if I did not lightly cut the rope with a knife I had in my pocket. We halama immediately on the hook, each of us is already more or less injured. I live in now five Indians around the unfortunate sailor they had killed, and two of them beat her head with rocks they had in their hands.
... I saw them fill their canoes with stones, and twelve men come to us to renew the fight, and they did so vigorously that they had almost come to us after intermission.
... We took off with our paddles. But the Indians paddled all around us, and we were obliged to receive their shots without being able to retaliate with stones that fell into the boat, and in this respect, the game was very uneven.
... Seeing this, I imagined the ruse to throw overboard some clothes, losing time to pick them up, night fell, they abandoned their pursuit and returned to earth, and left us free to think our sad condition.
The man whom I had lost was John Norton, was his second trip with me as quartermaster, and was a great topic (and a hell of a template, it seems) that loss has been very sensitive. He left an aged father, so I was told, to whom he gave help. "
Bligh then compares the attack Tofua it comes to live with the one he suffered in Hawaii a few years ago, when the death of the famous Captain James Cook (properly, if we might say, cut into pieces).
"Here I was unarmed, and the Indians knew and we were very lucky they had not started the attack while we were in the cave, in which case, our loss would have been inevitable and there we would have stayed else to do but to fight, ready to close and sell our lives dearly, what I had found each fully resolved to assist me. ...
We were sailing along the strip west of the island of Tofo, and I thought about it was more convenient to make, when all gathered and asked me to bring them back to our homeland.
I tell them that we had no hope for relief to the island of Timor, far away from us more than 1200 miles, where he is a Dutch settlement ...
Thereupon they agreed all to live with an ounce of cookie and an eighth of a pint of water per day. I made the visit to our store of food, and having recommended to be faithful to this promise, as the most sacred oath, we came to the open sea
We
entreprîmes therefore, in a boat open, long only 21 feet 9 inches, 18 men and carrying overloaded, with no map, and with only the aid of geographical knowledge that my memory could provide me ... we started, I say , through this vast sea including navigation is almost unknown.
I found myself very happy in this position alarming, that all my companions in misfortune were less affected than me. "
48 days later, Bligh and his 17 companions arrived, albeit in a pitiful state, lean and hungry but alive, on arrival, after overcome many dangers. Bravo all the same (ugly) Mr Bligh, to have achieved this high because of shipping.
must, on this point, you justice.
You had, whatever people may say, talent, and courage.
Because Tofua link to Timor, a distance of 1,206 nautical leagues, this is still a journey of 3,618 nautical miles or 6700 kilometers ... Without chart.
And 21 feet 9 inches for an open boat open to the wind and the sea, it is only 6.63 meters in length.
Width 6 feet 4 inches, or 1.93 meter.
With 18 men on board, the freeboard of the boat was only 20 centimeters ...
Bligh has brought all his men safely.
With the exception of poor Norton of course, killed by the islanders in the cove northwest of Tofu, heckled at the apparatus of the boat.
Bligh was then 35 years, the two young sailors in the boat 17 years, the two eldest aged 42.
Whatever the merits and faults of Captain William Bligh as commander, was undoubtedly also a good Marine. My personal belief is that the testing of the mutiny he experienced, having probably largely aroused, had to do with him thereafter, and from the boat journey to Timor, a leader of a pretty stamp, which necessarily had to think long and the art of controlling the men. And change its ways.
How exciting story! For all the incredible ingredients of myth are combined.
Interested? At least read the trilogy, although fictional, but above all well documented by Charles Nordhoff and James Norman Hall in Phoebus.
And we board our catamaran sailors modest and unknown, some two hundred years later, we are only ten marine leagues of Tofu, in the middle of the Pacific!
Not to procrastinate, we're just not there to cultivate the regrets!
Here we go! Cap on tofu!
Thursday, October 21. We leave the Ha'apai, are heading north-west, the massive volcanic cone that faces us. The wind is almost zero, we move to the engine. We see in the distance a whale blowing at the surface. An hour later, we just avoid the collision with another animal. Or more accurately, the monster, which crosses through to us, dives under the boat in extremis, even before I could throw myself on the engine controls. These large animals are much more clever than their impressive body may suggest. Humpback whales are fond of the west of Tonga. In early afternoon, we drive along the coast north of Tofua a few tens of meters. The eye on the sounder, I watch the recovery of funds that would confirm the existence of language submerged rock on which I hope to be anchored. I'm not really a backup solution, waiting to sail to New Zealand, but must first wait until the tide is turning for us to be more favorable. Fingers crossed ... Some
minutes later, the rock is well advanced at the rendezvous, there beneath our wings, and making several comings and goings from the unit, I located a proper anchorage for 18/20 meters deep. Not really sheltered, but very welcome.
However, we continue our journey north-west of the island. I have an aerial photo that shows the existence of three bays in the north-west of tofu. We drive along the coast a short distance, and I warn my people that most likely is that the first loop is indeed that of the sloop the Bounty. I reread the descriptions of Bligh noting every detail, the assumption is both more consistent with the text, but also with what I see on the aerial photo.
Jangada crosses the northwestern tip of tofu, and the little creek gently opens our eyes. The surf breaks violently. We see immediately the black spot in a cave in the vertical wall at the foot of the cliff. My pulse quickens, my belief is strengthened. Access to the bottom of the loop is as described by Bligh: not easy. Even with a southeast wind. Needless to imagine the show by the west wind ...
To remove any doubt, we continue to open the other two small loops visible on the aerial image, to the west end of Tofua .. But no doubt is possible, these two small cracks in the line of coast are overcome by impassable vertical walls of several tens of meters high.
We return to the cove northwest. The handle of the Loyalists sailors on the Bounty.
I can not help but make a few ripples in the water in the cove.
I observe. And I think.
There, before our eyes in this small bay inhospitable, the 18 men landed force on the boat on the Bounty with their captain stayed five days, there is a little over two centuries, before undertaking an incredible journey by sea in the western Pacific.
And John Norton, the solid quarter-master of 36 years which, in good sailor, was not like cutting ropes, died there on the rocks, beaten to death by the Tongan island of stones.
What have they done to her body? Nobody knows.
In this regard, do you know that a journalist named Luis Marsden that can be described - with little risk of committing an appalling mistake - the royal fool, saw fit to write, in March 1968, an article in National Geographic Magazine, stating that he had located, supporting photographs, and the cove where the cave had stayed Bligh and his men, on the southeast coast of tofu! Yes, south-east! At the exact opposite of historical truth, and logic maritime sailors. He even, in its total lack of ethics, describe a tomb which he attributed to John Norton ...! In short, his seamanship was to be like his honesty, kept to a minimum because the shore south-east coast of Tofua is exposed to winds, it is thus defeated by the waves. Simply reading notes Bligh (who reported on several occasions during his stay in Tofua a sustained wind of south-east) would have to go do exactly the opposite of the island ... As a tomb attributed to the unfortunate Norton I do not think I am right in saying that this concern does not touch the spirit of one second Tofua island in 1789. The most likely hypothesis is that, according to the customs of the time, his body had to be cut up and distributed among the chiefs of the island, as a trophy of battle, if not partially ate ... No one will ever know, it is better to refrain from any conclusive statement about this. Like what, even a great magazine generally deemed genuine can print anything ...
I note in passing, reading the screen of our GPS, as Captain Bligh did wrong that a little more than one arc minute (2 km) by calculating the latitude of the loop of Tofu.
is a very good accuracy, the justification is probably the fact that having spent several days in this place, he had to make several readings of the height of the sun when what is known in the meridian celestial navigation. This record, the only day that is independent of the precise measurement of time (the observer is content to wait for the solar disk rises and falls corresponding maximum angular height, before performing the calculations of spherical trigonometry) , had to be used to stall the Bligh few instruments at its disposal, including Peckover's watch, the master-gunner, who served until it stops, a little less than a month later.
Jangada We will anchor in the area previously identified, and with Marin, we're going on schedule to close the loop. But our attention is attracted by a blast of whale that sprays a few tens of meters. We decided to approach it, and find a humpback whale (humpback whale) adult who swims with her calf. We follow a time, they did not seem frightened by our presence unobtrusive.
We return to the ship to ship and Adelie Barbara, who warned, following the animals through binoculars for several minutes. We flippers, masks and snorkels. We soon find
these peaceful giants meet in the calm waters downwind of tofu. The mother as a small twenty meters, 16 to 18 say the calf 5 to 6 meters. More accustomed to eating krill in the cold waters of Antarctica, Humpback whales back in the tropics of farrowing and the first weeks of life in their small, before undertaking the long journey back to the sixtieth. Calves, to live, must learn to grow up quickly.
front of us, the young animal performs some jumps specific to this case. I guess he had to watch his mother. He did not leave more than a few meters, and the graceful ballet has something magical. We approach very near, engine off and see the clear water in the immense body of the mother, almost vertical, which pushes the calf's muzzle to the surface. Sometimes we find ourselves above the animals, and I am forced to restart the engine swiftly to get away a little.
Marin wants to jump into the water, but it's a bit of apprehension. I encourage him, telling him that these animals, despite their size, are not naturally aggressive, and they show great precision swimming. When I told him that he will perhaps not twice in a lifetime opportunity to swim a few meters a whale about 20 feet, he decided, and dives. It will
several minutes in the water near the animals, though we can detect in them the slightest movement of discomfort caused by our presence.
few moments I jump into the water, and take from those few seconds near a giant a strong sense of humility. The inordinate eye of the whale, especially, sparkles with intelligence, watching me a few yards away. Impressive.
Adelie also launches, but when she was in the water, it gets scared and goes.
Barbara is fascinated, she puts her mask and fins and will look more closely at the magnificent spectacle.
giant and gave us little more than an hour of unforgettable natural spectacle.
Night falls on the island-volcano tofu.
The silhouette of our sailboat at anchor in one of these deserted places, stands out against the skyline.
It is too late to land in the Cove Norton (I call and now too small, it bears no name on the card, but it seems normal to give it that name). This will be tomorrow.
the night the wind shifted, with a few hours ahead of schedule, east-southeast. I am informed by the work of the chain, which noisily wart on the bottom rocks, while the angle of pull is altered by the change of wind direction.
As expected, tomorrow we will sail to New Zealand. This is the beginning of the slot wind that we were told several days ago by Guru of Meteorology of New Zealand Bob Mc Davitt.
The sun rises over our anchorage precarious. Quickly swallow a bowl of coffee and we start with Marin to Cove Norton. We identify the places, then I arrived and remains in the annex at some distance from the surf.
I found a path to the black rocks where the boat should be moored by the stern, with a hook on the front. These same rocks on which I can imagine the violent images of the last moments of life of the quartermaster of the Bounty.
And, about fifty yards away, I find myself in front of the cave where the crew stayed loyal sailors of Captain Bligh. The sea is deposited driftwood, boulders and uprooted from the cliff storms from the west.
I spend a few moments to imagine the scenes that have taken place.
Then I go back on strike, just happy being here so far.
Marin gets me, we go on board and prepare for the crossing Jangada ahead.
Towards 10H00, everything is ready. We note the anchor with difficulty, we must return to the water to understand the complicated trajectory of the chain in the rocks, following the turning of the night, and maneuver accordingly.
She finally break free.
Whales are invisible this morning. Long life to you ...
We spend one last time before the little cove Norton, and send the web.
Hi, Captain Bligh!
Road to Aotearoa, the land of the long white cloud. Olivier
The wetting Nomuka, the Ha'apai (Tonga), where the Bounty was released just before the mutiny.
The northwest coast of tofu, basically, the volcano Kao.
The island volcano of Tofu with, at the northwest end, flush with the frame, the small cove Norton.
Cove Norton and the Cave of sailors on the Bounty, clearly visible in the rock wall.
The boat was anchored on a grappling hook from the front. One line placed on a rock holding her to the ground from behind.
The area around the cave of the Bounty sailors did not change much for 221 years ...
The black rocks of the cove Norton where was moored the boat on the Bounty. This is where the quartermaster John Norton was killed.
Only at anchor Tofua, Jangada receives the visit, and not any!
Humback whale, adult female, about 20 meters long ...
At this point, the whale, which blows air to breathe her, moving in little over 20 feet of water.
Under the watchful eye of her mother, the calf trains the aquatic dance of humpback whales.
Marino decided he dives! Swimming with whales!
Once the initial apprehension defeated the animal, like man, quickly become accustomed to each other.
Bye bye, beautiful animal, and bon voyage to Antarctica with your latest!
Monday, November 22, 2010
Epsom Salt Ingrown Nail
Ticket No. 84-Adventures in the Ha'apai islands, the archipelago dangerous ...
From Monday 11 October to Wednesday, October 21, 2010.
By Olivier
Ha'apai, Tonga. Islands, islets and reefs. Reef tens ...
Monday morning October 11, we start clearance of Vava'u, fill the jerry cans of gasoline, let us turn to the market with fruits and vegetables, another in Chinese, and then we take sea without delay, to the south, Ha'apai in the direction of this archipelago located between Vava'u in the north, and Tongatapu in the south. The yacht
Turtle of our friends Nicolas and Marie-Laure, recently met in Niue, has to be wrecked. As usually very
in maritime incidents that end badly, they were victims of an unfortunate sequence of galleys techniques that increase gradually the situation, until it becomes a concern, then bad and finally disastrous.
A fairly standard process in such cases.
We go places and see what we can do, salvage equipment at worst, at best see if the boat can be salvaged, and otherwise secure the wreckage. The crew, he is safe in Nuku'alofa, and we are on him by e-mail and telephone.
Ha'apai, I called the archipelago dangerous: it deserves this name.
Probably more than the Tuamotus, whose first atolls is often clear, steep. Few boats venture there, at least in its remotest corners. This, in itself, is inevitably a good enough reason for me to justify going to see what it looks like ... We never change! But it's not, it's clear a corner conducive to learning navigation. Even seasoned sailors should beware. Bad things do happen to other surprises ...
First, the place is poorly mapped. Then the electronic mapping is shifted, that is false, several hundred meters. The currents are strong, despite a low tidal range. And reefs awash there are hundreds! Give you an idea of the place is relatively simple: only slight exaggeration, it is not a degree angle of the horizon where it omits the breakers that break! The floor of Sein, comparatively, is less tricky.
short, we must have an eye, not navigate that day, as much as possible with the sun in the back, do not hesitate to get in the spreaders, do not let go of the eye pollster, be always ready to handle emergencies, and try to secure anchorage before nightfall.
But the most insidious danger, are the grains, especially at night ...
We choose the road outside, to the west of the archipelago, safest, Kelefesia to get to the island's most south of Ha'apai: here, 115 miles south of Neiafu, the wreck of La Tortue was held. The winds are weak, unstable all night and day we see who rises to proceed with both engines. We spend a short distance from falling out of a long coral reef. The place is conducive to fish, birds are numerous. Suddenly, the two lines dévirent violently at the same time. The pawls metal panic alarms. Marin and I love it, plays Adelie neutrality strategic sisterhood forces.
is true that things are accelerating during this phase, the fuse instructions ("Wrap gennaker! Connects hand steering! Start the engine under the wind! Put down 10 degrees from the wind! Engaged the engine idle! Prepares neoprene gloves, the gaff fish, underwater gun, a club of teak, the kitchen knife! ... etc ...), the pulse rises, the instinct Hunter, males only, gets over for a few minutes.
We lose a dorado of 1, 50 meter yet reduced to a few meters from the boat, it will regain its freedom in a magnificent leap out of the water, carrying everything down the line with it. Well done, respect for the animal, which this time was the strongest.
The second, particularly combative, will be brought on board after a good physical effort, and I even keep a few scars on his legs, because once hoisted in the starboard transom, hard-sell me the animal's skin. This day, we will take another two bonito, fridge and find a high level, "to beam" as they say in the Merchant Navy. Barbara will make me promise not to put the lines in the water before long.
At the time, I have no choice ...
Late afternoon on the 12th, we faufilons between coral and Kelefesia approaching from the west. Zephyrus, the party on the eve of Vava'u, at anchor, and passed after a first dive, a Situation Report on the situation of the wreck. We turn next to the two poles of La Tortue, immersed in a dozen meters of water, and enter with caution in the small anchorage area which can hold only two or three boats, and again, provided you have the eye.
sorry sight this tower sinking into the water on the skyline. Everyone is silent, lost in thought, a story stopped there.
As mourning for a boat, after bringing a family history that goes back several decades, sees die here in this wild and inhospitable corner, the beginning of a new life plan, following a long sequence of restoration work, carried Tahiti.
How not imagine that such a mishap could happen to us too? Come on, touch wood.
(A sea event always occurs at one time or another, the sailors who sail.
Only sailors who remain docked to believe otherwise!)
A local boat lurking, with at local fishermen on board, obviously interested in the event and its aftermath. But their visits to the wreck have ceased with the arrival of Tropic Bird, a powerful pneumatic-powered armed for diving, which went on quickly scene after the wreck. With the arrival of Zephyrus, the relay has been passed, and our friends Andy (former Royal Marine Commando Her Majesty, do not forget it! And so far so nice and quiet) and his charming eco-Rhian took masterfully Started the bazaar.
Shortly before I arrived, I discreetly (early, because after, with the animal at the end of the line, it was more difficult!) Violated the prohibition of fishing from the cambusière chief, telling me that before future operations, amount of protein would be welcome there. We captured a large tazard nearly 2 meters long. We coupons in two: half for the fishermen, the other for Zephyrus. It puts oil in the wheels. Marin and I will dive on the wreckage before nightfall, to give us an idea of the possibilities of bailouts, and send by e-mail to Nicolas and Marie-Laure, Nuku'alofa. The water is totally transparent, the boat is built on large blocks of coral, saffron is broken, a gaping hole of 40 cm in diameter appears on the back. Andy removed the head of aggressive rock that caused it. But the vision of the bridge, completely intact, is impressive. The colorful fish have already taken possession of the wreck ...
Tyee The Canadian crew joined us the night before, and we all had dinner ... fish! Jangada aboard.
All available information was sent to Nicolas and Marie-Laure.
A trend is already on the one hand the equipment needed for bailout (parachutes airbags in particular) is not available in Nuku'alofa, it must bring a high price for New Zealand and secondly the expected costs of the overall operation (logistics support dives clogging of waterways, drainage, towing, water outlet of the wreckage in Nuku'alofa, repairs) are excessive in relation to the value of this old ship (uninsured). Clearly, moreover, our friends are, after the ordeal they have just experienced, and months of work they had spent on the rehabilitation of the family boat (not to mention the budget invested), the energy needed to move mountains. It's understandable. They give up, it's probably the wisest, at least financially. The turtle will finish his career there, Kelefesia on the reef.
End of a beautiful story about a boat. The crew and the boat had sailed from Papeete there is less than 2 months ...
This decision, he must secure the wreckage, that is to say, to remove the masts, and empty the boat. Nicolas gives us the green light by phone. Tomorrow we attack at dawn, because it must act quickly in this precarious anchorage. And Nicolas and Marie-Laure, knowing three sailboats on the spot, decided to return a few hours on the wreck site. Get a few things, remove the wreckage of what it contains, talk with Noa the son of the owner of the island, and also to mourn the final of La Tortue, and temporary project of life that the sailboat was the support. The small ferry to the islands tomorrow morning Nomuka deposit, and from there, Noa will take them up with his motor boat Kelefesia, where they meet for us in the afternoon and night.
I like the idea of returning to bid farewell to his boat, and I appreciate their courage and their decision to return to the wreck site.
Immediately after wetting our maneuver, I dove to make sure the path of the chain and burying the anchor Jangada, besides the two usual maneuvers to pull our side with the engines behind. In the night falls on a grain Kelefesia, and we find Andy on Zephyrus, on Tyee John and myself on Jangada, soaked and shivering in the wind, rain and darkness, headlamp-to-peer engines running and deck lights on, VHF on, trying to fight against the fury of the time, tricky to perfection in this kind of disreputable place. Zephyrus raft and find themselves side by side in choppy seas, one of us moved. We leave the defenses, I extension of 20 meters chain wetting, it goes, but the alarm of the night is still present in our memories ... Later in the day, I discovered that our anchor chain sheared potato coral hundreds of pounds she bypassed initially. The chain then pulled the shortest way under the rock, is what brought us closer to Zephyrus during the night. I am surprised again.
the day up, we will establish a defense on the mizzen mast, and then gradually coupons all the guys. This allows realizing that the wire-shears blunted guys soon: we must finish the job in hacksaw lubricated elbow grease. We learn every day from the sea
mast eventually switch gently into the water, then we will tow the small beach on the island with our schedule. Then comes the turn of the mainmast, held by 12 cables ...
Harder, longer, more physical, but arrives too. Spreaders hang before the coral beach, the mast is heavy, you lose time, but the fishermen are helping us: it is a kind of simplified principle of "No cure, no pay" applied yet (unfortunately) in rescue at sea, maritime law before International are changed following the sinking of the Amoco Cadiz, on the rocks Portsall in 1978 ...
We had the morning to tow the boat and dismasted poles on the beach. Fishermen have seen the work, the mine a little vexed, thinking no doubt that the windfall from the wreck was going to pass under the nose. In fact, talking with them, we learn that the King of Tonga, ago few decades has given the island of Kelefesia Noa's father, his friend. The island is deserted, uninhabited, inhospitable, but beautiful.
Only a rough encampment is home to fishermen Nomuka staying there from time to time. In the afternoon, I saw the boat coming from Nomuka Noa. I jump in the schedule and go to the meeting of Nicolas and Marie-Laure.
For them, it's the shock. And the tears of emotion.
Only the small inflatable raft, diving raft, I made fast to the wreck, said the sinking location ... At the time of abandonment, at nightfall, a few days earlier, while the boat tossa on the reef and the water already drowning floors, the boat was still floating when they had gained the shore Annex, taking with them the most.
They had launched a distress call with their Iridium satellite phone, by calling the CROSS (Regional Operational Centre for Safety and Rescue) Gris-Nez, France, which had passed to New Zealand and Tonga. A warship had sailed early the next morning in Nuku'alofa, had stopped off at dawn in a sea still rough, and had sent a tire to the beach to retrieve the four occupants of the Turtle, who had spent the night in the camp occasional fishermen, around a fire welcome.
Some black pigs roam free on the island, and their grunts were a little worried about the castaways in the heart of the night.
At their disposal by the Tongan warship, the crew of La Tortue was noticed that the boat had sunk in the course overnight, but it still floated.
There, at the moment the castaways re-discover the site appeased, only the small raft as we moored to the wreck's position was reported.
With a dash of diesel that the iridescent surface of the shell slowly escapes ...
Marie-Laure has difficulty controlling her tears, Nicolas is silent.
We are not much.
Lunch is welcome. Andy has managed to get a few bottles of wine from the wreckage, it feels good. We are almost to extort a smile.
Nicolas and Marie-Laure ask us to leave only 20 minutes to dive on the wreck, I drive attached to the vertical one, then we leave them alone to face adversity and reality what happened to their boat.
Then work on the wreck again, everything in it will be released in the afternoon. The material is salable on Zephyrus and Tyee who must then win Nuku'alofa. While Jangada must go north on the island of Nomuka, to drop the wife of Noah, who only speak a few words of English, came for the day with her husband and her daughter Cristina, try negotiate the transfer of ownership of the wreck (it will eventually ceded to the Government of Tonga). Anything that is not salable going on the boat of Noah. In the evening, when we came on board, and Nicolas and Marie-Laure moved into the cabin to starboard Jangada, Noa beckons me to come to the beach.
It makes me understand by gestures that everyone is invited to a barbecue tonight, and two pigs were killed for the occasion. I spread the good news and we are all a little later on the small beach where fellow Noa kindle a great fire, and cook two small piglets plump skewered on wooden picks.
Nice way to turn the page for the crew of La Tortue, which tomorrow will regain Nulu'alofa, and a few days later France, to start another life ...
I'm happy for our friends they have chosen to come back to see the wreckage: a nice way to say goodbye to this story, with nothing to regret, before turning the page.
Nicolas, nicely, give children's kites, removed from the wreckage. It is already too loaded. He filed a bag on the deck of shackles and hooks, a jerry can of diesel, a jacket. Elegance of gesture, but we were not there for that.
The next morning, Nicolas and Marie-Laure boarded Tyee that brings them back to Nuku'alofa, Zephyrus is to finish cleaning up the wreckage with the Islanders, and we head on Nomuka, a dozen miles to the northwest, to lay Maria.
Most boats, few in number, increasing to the future at anchor Kelefesia probably ignore that there, under water, in rocks, 200 meters from the small beach, lies the wreck of La Tortue.
Nothing else reports it to the surface of the waves.
Just remembered.
After our short stopover in Nomuka, we spend the afternoon at anchor near the wreck of a Korean fishing vessel. The sea breeze loudly on a shoal a few tens of meters.
The next day, we reach the island of Fonuafua. Still precarious anchorage. During the session CNED, I'm going to visit an island Schedule desert located 2 miles. I came across an enormous sow, busy eating coconuts, and as surprised as me about our meeting. We visited in late afternoon the little village on the island, exchanged a few words with the teacher, responding to questions from a few children. The news of the sinking of La Tortue has reached so far.
Night at anchorage is calm. This means that I get up only 2 or 3 times to make a quick round, taking advantage of what is without doubt in my end of a sleep cycle.
The geography of Ha'apai is complex, it needs to be immersed for a long time to get out a cruise itinerary consistent. We decide to earn a solitary island, sheltered by a long barrier reef, Limu Island, located about twenty miles to the northeast.
Fate is going to play a funny turn, but we do not know yet.
We zigzag throughout the morning between the reefs, clearly visible, and arrive in mid-afternoon near Limu. Device approach to coral reef area: I ride in the spreaders to give the pilot instructions, Barbara took control, Marin monitors changes to bows and ensures the beginning of the maneuver wetting Adelie ad every 10 seconds, the depth sounder and provides voice relay between us three.
The method has proven itself.
electronic mapping is shifted by at least 2 to 300 meters, an instant classic that goes into detail approaches to remote anchorages and little traffic.
We find a proper anchorage area in 4.50 meters of water, white sand bottom, with the turning radius provided over 360 °, two cables (1 cable's length = 1 / 10 nautical mile, or 185 meters) downwind of Limu. We dévirons the chain windlass with a little way back to lengthen properly, perform a first pull back to 40 feet with the engines, then a second, higher, at 65 meters, motors at 1200 rpm .. Despite the effort, the boat is stopped, the anchor was well hooked. As usual when we are anchored in a coral reef area where we plan to spend the night (no possibility to sail at night because of the ubiquity of reefs close to the least bad path exit), I dive to control the anchor position and trajectory of the chain. The anchor is deeply buried in the sand, string fully extended, the tidal range is less than 1 meter, we have 65 meters of warp rollers for a little over 4 feet of water, the wind blows easterly 10 knots, according to weather forecasts for the night. We are downwind of the barrier reef, and leeward of the island. We stop the engine, put the annex to the water, and land on the pristine beach of Limu. A small fishing camp, desert, traces of fire, hundreds of birds, shells on the sand. We tour the small island, children play in water, then seek the most beautiful seashells of the strike. I enter the foliage of the interior of the island to observe the nests of black noddies most of which accommodate a chick. I read somewhere that this island was also inhabited by sea snakes, but we saw none. We returned on board with the sunset. The weather was cloudy, but calm.
Sunday, October 17. Towards
2:00 am, the pounding of the rain falling heavily on the deck wakes me: I make a round. The weather deteriorated, the sky is overcast, loaded, the wind shifted about thirty degrees, 12 knots. Nothing alarming. Any way it is out of question to sail at night in this anchorage, electronic record (recorded on the computer screen navigation) or not: the approach is fraught with peril, he must deal with some meters, as is the case in many anchorages Ha'apai.
Only the light of day, liberating the concerns of the night, allows the apparatus.
I go back to bed. Around 4:20 am, I am suddenly awakened by a violent grain that falls above the anchor. Within seconds, a rainstorm falling on the bridge, gusting to 30/35 knots roar in the rigging. On deck, the darkness is total, complete darkness, the thick curtain of rain. Visibility does not exceed a few meters. I start the engines, said that the wind shifted suddenly with the grain of 150 °, it is now blowing from the southwest. But I can not see any of the usual signs of slippage of the anchor, whose bridle textiles has not voluntarily been put into position yesterday. Thus the sound vibrations of the chain who works in the background are transmitted directly to the metal structure of the bow: bow roller, front cross beam, windlass, and thence to the composite structure of the boat. This is more than enough to wake me up. That said, places in the mud of the rivers of Senegal aside, we never skidded. Within seconds I'm soaked and shivering with cold, I'll soon wake up everybody, grab a coat on watch, and goes on deck.
A few seconds later, I feel like touching the pins, small shocks without violence, but noticeable. We are on the coral!
I can not understand, but clearly, we slipped, we dérapons under the gusts of grain! The string is normally tense, no specific shocks, no vibration in the chain: we slip on the soft sand, the anchor has to go out of his soiled as a result of traction almost reversed. I put Marino windlass control, and told him to gradually turn the channel while I rush to the engine controls. The lack of visibility does not allow me to know in which direction he should try to go. I try to free the boat with the engine in the direction of the anchor chain, but I quickly understand that we will not go so easily of this mess. The chain continues to come effortlessly. Needless to stress. We annex to the water, on board Fortress anchor light in the glow of our headlamps, and let the anchor in 100 feet of rode the wind. The traction winch will not work, the keel port is already taken. We simply rotate the boat in the output shaft presumed. Do more is useless. It enrages me to have kept you, but we must accept the situation. There is no danger, it must simply be patient. The Ha'apai
just give us a warning.
The sea goes down, and we are quickly installed, trapped in a small plate coral.
fixed keels were very slightly toss, nothing nasty, and the highest grain rose in the space of ten minutes. The weather calmed down quickly. The first light of day shed light on Limu Island wan. Chop fallen as quickly as it had risen. I put on my overalls
and I dive under the boat. No luck, the pins are fixed past few centimeters above a coral plateau fairly flat, while the sea went down. Ten meters between us and open water. In our misfortune, it suits me.
I go back, requires a hot coffee to Barbara, and encourages my little crew take a solid breakfast. We will need energy! The boat took a few degrees to starboard, we're not used! I explain the situation to mine, not bad if the weather remains calm, explains what we do to get the boat out of this uncomfortable situation, and distributes the roles. I promise everyone that we float in open water again in a few hours. I feel the tension, concentration, but not worry excessively. I get to joke.
I guess however that recent events experienced in Kelefesia are not far from the minds ... But my optimism justified maintaining the morale of the crew. Marino also dons his wetsuit, we prepare everything on the deck hardware.
Barbara and Adelie remain on board, Marin and I embark on the schedule. We start with the most difficult: meeting all the main anchor at hand to embark on the schedule. I cut the bitter end, girls dévirent the windlass, the annex was sinking, but we bear the main anchor at 180 meters in the output shaft of the boat. Gradually we lengthen the chain, Marin plunges to bury the anchor plow and optimize the operation, then we bring the end of textile rode on the windlass drum. Tensioning simple, ready to turn. We note the slight Fortress anchor (whose outfit is surprisingly effective, I had already experienced) previously wet, and bring to 150 meters from the boat to starboard 20 ° to the longitudinal axis. The back end on the winch to starboard solent. Tensioning, the anchor was hooked, this is the second anchor line ready to tow the boat. Each is equipped with a float rope. But that's not all wear anchors away to bail out, it must also be able to stop the boat when he returns to open water, before it gets back on a potato whose corner is full! We anchored our third anchor 120 meters on the rear port side, close to the reef.
Overall, this work has taken us almost three hours. Barbara has prepared a huge dish of pasta with basil and olive oil. Resuming forces. The sea goes up since 9:00, the boat is recovering gradually. We are ready. I dive from time to time to monitor the situation under water, and Adelie is responsible for my bodyguard. It monitors the yellow and black snake that we saw repeatedly in the morning around the boat does not care too close to his Dad. It is the largest that we have insight far, about 1.50 meters, and it is better to avoid the encounter.
The starboard keel off at 12:45. I take a little tension on both lines before wetting. At 1:25 p.m., the boat begins to move toward open water. Unnecessary force, the weather is stable, calm seas, he must wait. Ten minutes later, I repeat again the voltage on the main mooring line. The boat is released shortly after the coral, we feel two or three small shock keels that hang slightly back towards the open water, the boat floats gently back over the white sand. I take back the mooring line, stopping the boat. We're out of business!
I uttered a cry of victory, and I see a nice smile on the face of Barbara. I know she has you concern, but she trusted me completely at sea Adelie also is relieved. She took on her for several hours, by paying attention to small tasks entrusted to him. Marino was great working all morning he helped me to implement the device anchors, my son grows up, and I'm proud of him.
We inspect the pins: A little rework low bowling, but no structural damage. The shocks were mild. The hulls and propellers have never touched. I reconnected the rudders, we note the secondary anchors one by one, then the main mooring line, which finds its place in the locker. Engines purr. We resolve to win Panga, the main village of Ha'apai, about twenty miles further north. The day falls gently on the sheltered bay.
The Ha'apai sent us two warning messages in a few days. Needless to stress. Sailors are superstitious.
We are looking now to the road which must lead us soon in New Zealand.
But first I want to make a detour to the island-volcano of Tofu, which I see the massive figure in the west for several days.
Tonight at anchor Panga, double ration of rum for the crew.
Jangada paid tribute to the dangerous virginity Ha'apai.
Olivier
From Monday 11 October to Wednesday, October 21, 2010.
By Olivier
Ha'apai, Tonga. Islands, islets and reefs. Reef tens ...
Monday morning October 11, we start clearance of Vava'u, fill the jerry cans of gasoline, let us turn to the market with fruits and vegetables, another in Chinese, and then we take sea without delay, to the south, Ha'apai in the direction of this archipelago located between Vava'u in the north, and Tongatapu in the south. The yacht
Turtle of our friends Nicolas and Marie-Laure, recently met in Niue, has to be wrecked. As usually very
in maritime incidents that end badly, they were victims of an unfortunate sequence of galleys techniques that increase gradually the situation, until it becomes a concern, then bad and finally disastrous.
A fairly standard process in such cases.
We go places and see what we can do, salvage equipment at worst, at best see if the boat can be salvaged, and otherwise secure the wreckage. The crew, he is safe in Nuku'alofa, and we are on him by e-mail and telephone.
Ha'apai, I called the archipelago dangerous: it deserves this name.
Probably more than the Tuamotus, whose first atolls is often clear, steep. Few boats venture there, at least in its remotest corners. This, in itself, is inevitably a good enough reason for me to justify going to see what it looks like ... We never change! But it's not, it's clear a corner conducive to learning navigation. Even seasoned sailors should beware. Bad things do happen to other surprises ...
First, the place is poorly mapped. Then the electronic mapping is shifted, that is false, several hundred meters. The currents are strong, despite a low tidal range. And reefs awash there are hundreds! Give you an idea of the place is relatively simple: only slight exaggeration, it is not a degree angle of the horizon where it omits the breakers that break! The floor of Sein, comparatively, is less tricky.
short, we must have an eye, not navigate that day, as much as possible with the sun in the back, do not hesitate to get in the spreaders, do not let go of the eye pollster, be always ready to handle emergencies, and try to secure anchorage before nightfall.
But the most insidious danger, are the grains, especially at night ...
We choose the road outside, to the west of the archipelago, safest, Kelefesia to get to the island's most south of Ha'apai: here, 115 miles south of Neiafu, the wreck of La Tortue was held. The winds are weak, unstable all night and day we see who rises to proceed with both engines. We spend a short distance from falling out of a long coral reef. The place is conducive to fish, birds are numerous. Suddenly, the two lines dévirent violently at the same time. The pawls metal panic alarms. Marin and I love it, plays Adelie neutrality strategic sisterhood forces.
is true that things are accelerating during this phase, the fuse instructions ("Wrap gennaker! Connects hand steering! Start the engine under the wind! Put down 10 degrees from the wind! Engaged the engine idle! Prepares neoprene gloves, the gaff fish, underwater gun, a club of teak, the kitchen knife! ... etc ...), the pulse rises, the instinct Hunter, males only, gets over for a few minutes.
We lose a dorado of 1, 50 meter yet reduced to a few meters from the boat, it will regain its freedom in a magnificent leap out of the water, carrying everything down the line with it. Well done, respect for the animal, which this time was the strongest.
The second, particularly combative, will be brought on board after a good physical effort, and I even keep a few scars on his legs, because once hoisted in the starboard transom, hard-sell me the animal's skin. This day, we will take another two bonito, fridge and find a high level, "to beam" as they say in the Merchant Navy. Barbara will make me promise not to put the lines in the water before long.
At the time, I have no choice ...
Late afternoon on the 12th, we faufilons between coral and Kelefesia approaching from the west. Zephyrus, the party on the eve of Vava'u, at anchor, and passed after a first dive, a Situation Report on the situation of the wreck. We turn next to the two poles of La Tortue, immersed in a dozen meters of water, and enter with caution in the small anchorage area which can hold only two or three boats, and again, provided you have the eye.
sorry sight this tower sinking into the water on the skyline. Everyone is silent, lost in thought, a story stopped there.
As mourning for a boat, after bringing a family history that goes back several decades, sees die here in this wild and inhospitable corner, the beginning of a new life plan, following a long sequence of restoration work, carried Tahiti.
How not imagine that such a mishap could happen to us too? Come on, touch wood.
(A sea event always occurs at one time or another, the sailors who sail.
Only sailors who remain docked to believe otherwise!)
A local boat lurking, with at local fishermen on board, obviously interested in the event and its aftermath. But their visits to the wreck have ceased with the arrival of Tropic Bird, a powerful pneumatic-powered armed for diving, which went on quickly scene after the wreck. With the arrival of Zephyrus, the relay has been passed, and our friends Andy (former Royal Marine Commando Her Majesty, do not forget it! And so far so nice and quiet) and his charming eco-Rhian took masterfully Started the bazaar.
Shortly before I arrived, I discreetly (early, because after, with the animal at the end of the line, it was more difficult!) Violated the prohibition of fishing from the cambusière chief, telling me that before future operations, amount of protein would be welcome there. We captured a large tazard nearly 2 meters long. We coupons in two: half for the fishermen, the other for Zephyrus. It puts oil in the wheels. Marin and I will dive on the wreckage before nightfall, to give us an idea of the possibilities of bailouts, and send by e-mail to Nicolas and Marie-Laure, Nuku'alofa. The water is totally transparent, the boat is built on large blocks of coral, saffron is broken, a gaping hole of 40 cm in diameter appears on the back. Andy removed the head of aggressive rock that caused it. But the vision of the bridge, completely intact, is impressive. The colorful fish have already taken possession of the wreck ...
Tyee The Canadian crew joined us the night before, and we all had dinner ... fish! Jangada aboard.
All available information was sent to Nicolas and Marie-Laure.
A trend is already on the one hand the equipment needed for bailout (parachutes airbags in particular) is not available in Nuku'alofa, it must bring a high price for New Zealand and secondly the expected costs of the overall operation (logistics support dives clogging of waterways, drainage, towing, water outlet of the wreckage in Nuku'alofa, repairs) are excessive in relation to the value of this old ship (uninsured). Clearly, moreover, our friends are, after the ordeal they have just experienced, and months of work they had spent on the rehabilitation of the family boat (not to mention the budget invested), the energy needed to move mountains. It's understandable. They give up, it's probably the wisest, at least financially. The turtle will finish his career there, Kelefesia on the reef.
End of a beautiful story about a boat. The crew and the boat had sailed from Papeete there is less than 2 months ...
This decision, he must secure the wreckage, that is to say, to remove the masts, and empty the boat. Nicolas gives us the green light by phone. Tomorrow we attack at dawn, because it must act quickly in this precarious anchorage. And Nicolas and Marie-Laure, knowing three sailboats on the spot, decided to return a few hours on the wreck site. Get a few things, remove the wreckage of what it contains, talk with Noa the son of the owner of the island, and also to mourn the final of La Tortue, and temporary project of life that the sailboat was the support. The small ferry to the islands tomorrow morning Nomuka deposit, and from there, Noa will take them up with his motor boat Kelefesia, where they meet for us in the afternoon and night.
I like the idea of returning to bid farewell to his boat, and I appreciate their courage and their decision to return to the wreck site.
Immediately after wetting our maneuver, I dove to make sure the path of the chain and burying the anchor Jangada, besides the two usual maneuvers to pull our side with the engines behind. In the night falls on a grain Kelefesia, and we find Andy on Zephyrus, on Tyee John and myself on Jangada, soaked and shivering in the wind, rain and darkness, headlamp-to-peer engines running and deck lights on, VHF on, trying to fight against the fury of the time, tricky to perfection in this kind of disreputable place. Zephyrus raft and find themselves side by side in choppy seas, one of us moved. We leave the defenses, I extension of 20 meters chain wetting, it goes, but the alarm of the night is still present in our memories ... Later in the day, I discovered that our anchor chain sheared potato coral hundreds of pounds she bypassed initially. The chain then pulled the shortest way under the rock, is what brought us closer to Zephyrus during the night. I am surprised again.
the day up, we will establish a defense on the mizzen mast, and then gradually coupons all the guys. This allows realizing that the wire-shears blunted guys soon: we must finish the job in hacksaw lubricated elbow grease. We learn every day from the sea
mast eventually switch gently into the water, then we will tow the small beach on the island with our schedule. Then comes the turn of the mainmast, held by 12 cables ...
Harder, longer, more physical, but arrives too. Spreaders hang before the coral beach, the mast is heavy, you lose time, but the fishermen are helping us: it is a kind of simplified principle of "No cure, no pay" applied yet (unfortunately) in rescue at sea, maritime law before International are changed following the sinking of the Amoco Cadiz, on the rocks Portsall in 1978 ...
We had the morning to tow the boat and dismasted poles on the beach. Fishermen have seen the work, the mine a little vexed, thinking no doubt that the windfall from the wreck was going to pass under the nose. In fact, talking with them, we learn that the King of Tonga, ago few decades has given the island of Kelefesia Noa's father, his friend. The island is deserted, uninhabited, inhospitable, but beautiful.
Only a rough encampment is home to fishermen Nomuka staying there from time to time. In the afternoon, I saw the boat coming from Nomuka Noa. I jump in the schedule and go to the meeting of Nicolas and Marie-Laure.
For them, it's the shock. And the tears of emotion.
Only the small inflatable raft, diving raft, I made fast to the wreck, said the sinking location ... At the time of abandonment, at nightfall, a few days earlier, while the boat tossa on the reef and the water already drowning floors, the boat was still floating when they had gained the shore Annex, taking with them the most.
They had launched a distress call with their Iridium satellite phone, by calling the CROSS (Regional Operational Centre for Safety and Rescue) Gris-Nez, France, which had passed to New Zealand and Tonga. A warship had sailed early the next morning in Nuku'alofa, had stopped off at dawn in a sea still rough, and had sent a tire to the beach to retrieve the four occupants of the Turtle, who had spent the night in the camp occasional fishermen, around a fire welcome.
Some black pigs roam free on the island, and their grunts were a little worried about the castaways in the heart of the night.
At their disposal by the Tongan warship, the crew of La Tortue was noticed that the boat had sunk in the course overnight, but it still floated.
There, at the moment the castaways re-discover the site appeased, only the small raft as we moored to the wreck's position was reported.
With a dash of diesel that the iridescent surface of the shell slowly escapes ...
Marie-Laure has difficulty controlling her tears, Nicolas is silent.
We are not much.
Lunch is welcome. Andy has managed to get a few bottles of wine from the wreckage, it feels good. We are almost to extort a smile.
Nicolas and Marie-Laure ask us to leave only 20 minutes to dive on the wreck, I drive attached to the vertical one, then we leave them alone to face adversity and reality what happened to their boat.
Then work on the wreck again, everything in it will be released in the afternoon. The material is salable on Zephyrus and Tyee who must then win Nuku'alofa. While Jangada must go north on the island of Nomuka, to drop the wife of Noah, who only speak a few words of English, came for the day with her husband and her daughter Cristina, try negotiate the transfer of ownership of the wreck (it will eventually ceded to the Government of Tonga). Anything that is not salable going on the boat of Noah. In the evening, when we came on board, and Nicolas and Marie-Laure moved into the cabin to starboard Jangada, Noa beckons me to come to the beach.
It makes me understand by gestures that everyone is invited to a barbecue tonight, and two pigs were killed for the occasion. I spread the good news and we are all a little later on the small beach where fellow Noa kindle a great fire, and cook two small piglets plump skewered on wooden picks.
Nice way to turn the page for the crew of La Tortue, which tomorrow will regain Nulu'alofa, and a few days later France, to start another life ...
I'm happy for our friends they have chosen to come back to see the wreckage: a nice way to say goodbye to this story, with nothing to regret, before turning the page.
Nicolas, nicely, give children's kites, removed from the wreckage. It is already too loaded. He filed a bag on the deck of shackles and hooks, a jerry can of diesel, a jacket. Elegance of gesture, but we were not there for that.
The next morning, Nicolas and Marie-Laure boarded Tyee that brings them back to Nuku'alofa, Zephyrus is to finish cleaning up the wreckage with the Islanders, and we head on Nomuka, a dozen miles to the northwest, to lay Maria.
Most boats, few in number, increasing to the future at anchor Kelefesia probably ignore that there, under water, in rocks, 200 meters from the small beach, lies the wreck of La Tortue.
Nothing else reports it to the surface of the waves.
Just remembered.
After our short stopover in Nomuka, we spend the afternoon at anchor near the wreck of a Korean fishing vessel. The sea breeze loudly on a shoal a few tens of meters.
The next day, we reach the island of Fonuafua. Still precarious anchorage. During the session CNED, I'm going to visit an island Schedule desert located 2 miles. I came across an enormous sow, busy eating coconuts, and as surprised as me about our meeting. We visited in late afternoon the little village on the island, exchanged a few words with the teacher, responding to questions from a few children. The news of the sinking of La Tortue has reached so far.
Night at anchorage is calm. This means that I get up only 2 or 3 times to make a quick round, taking advantage of what is without doubt in my end of a sleep cycle.
The geography of Ha'apai is complex, it needs to be immersed for a long time to get out a cruise itinerary consistent. We decide to earn a solitary island, sheltered by a long barrier reef, Limu Island, located about twenty miles to the northeast.
Fate is going to play a funny turn, but we do not know yet.
We zigzag throughout the morning between the reefs, clearly visible, and arrive in mid-afternoon near Limu. Device approach to coral reef area: I ride in the spreaders to give the pilot instructions, Barbara took control, Marin monitors changes to bows and ensures the beginning of the maneuver wetting Adelie ad every 10 seconds, the depth sounder and provides voice relay between us three.
The method has proven itself.
electronic mapping is shifted by at least 2 to 300 meters, an instant classic that goes into detail approaches to remote anchorages and little traffic.
We find a proper anchorage area in 4.50 meters of water, white sand bottom, with the turning radius provided over 360 °, two cables (1 cable's length = 1 / 10 nautical mile, or 185 meters) downwind of Limu. We dévirons the chain windlass with a little way back to lengthen properly, perform a first pull back to 40 feet with the engines, then a second, higher, at 65 meters, motors at 1200 rpm .. Despite the effort, the boat is stopped, the anchor was well hooked. As usual when we are anchored in a coral reef area where we plan to spend the night (no possibility to sail at night because of the ubiquity of reefs close to the least bad path exit), I dive to control the anchor position and trajectory of the chain. The anchor is deeply buried in the sand, string fully extended, the tidal range is less than 1 meter, we have 65 meters of warp rollers for a little over 4 feet of water, the wind blows easterly 10 knots, according to weather forecasts for the night. We are downwind of the barrier reef, and leeward of the island. We stop the engine, put the annex to the water, and land on the pristine beach of Limu. A small fishing camp, desert, traces of fire, hundreds of birds, shells on the sand. We tour the small island, children play in water, then seek the most beautiful seashells of the strike. I enter the foliage of the interior of the island to observe the nests of black noddies most of which accommodate a chick. I read somewhere that this island was also inhabited by sea snakes, but we saw none. We returned on board with the sunset. The weather was cloudy, but calm.
Sunday, October 17. Towards
2:00 am, the pounding of the rain falling heavily on the deck wakes me: I make a round. The weather deteriorated, the sky is overcast, loaded, the wind shifted about thirty degrees, 12 knots. Nothing alarming. Any way it is out of question to sail at night in this anchorage, electronic record (recorded on the computer screen navigation) or not: the approach is fraught with peril, he must deal with some meters, as is the case in many anchorages Ha'apai.
Only the light of day, liberating the concerns of the night, allows the apparatus.
I go back to bed. Around 4:20 am, I am suddenly awakened by a violent grain that falls above the anchor. Within seconds, a rainstorm falling on the bridge, gusting to 30/35 knots roar in the rigging. On deck, the darkness is total, complete darkness, the thick curtain of rain. Visibility does not exceed a few meters. I start the engines, said that the wind shifted suddenly with the grain of 150 °, it is now blowing from the southwest. But I can not see any of the usual signs of slippage of the anchor, whose bridle textiles has not voluntarily been put into position yesterday. Thus the sound vibrations of the chain who works in the background are transmitted directly to the metal structure of the bow: bow roller, front cross beam, windlass, and thence to the composite structure of the boat. This is more than enough to wake me up. That said, places in the mud of the rivers of Senegal aside, we never skidded. Within seconds I'm soaked and shivering with cold, I'll soon wake up everybody, grab a coat on watch, and goes on deck.
A few seconds later, I feel like touching the pins, small shocks without violence, but noticeable. We are on the coral!
I can not understand, but clearly, we slipped, we dérapons under the gusts of grain! The string is normally tense, no specific shocks, no vibration in the chain: we slip on the soft sand, the anchor has to go out of his soiled as a result of traction almost reversed. I put Marino windlass control, and told him to gradually turn the channel while I rush to the engine controls. The lack of visibility does not allow me to know in which direction he should try to go. I try to free the boat with the engine in the direction of the anchor chain, but I quickly understand that we will not go so easily of this mess. The chain continues to come effortlessly. Needless to stress. We annex to the water, on board Fortress anchor light in the glow of our headlamps, and let the anchor in 100 feet of rode the wind. The traction winch will not work, the keel port is already taken. We simply rotate the boat in the output shaft presumed. Do more is useless. It enrages me to have kept you, but we must accept the situation. There is no danger, it must simply be patient. The Ha'apai
just give us a warning.
The sea goes down, and we are quickly installed, trapped in a small plate coral.
fixed keels were very slightly toss, nothing nasty, and the highest grain rose in the space of ten minutes. The weather calmed down quickly. The first light of day shed light on Limu Island wan. Chop fallen as quickly as it had risen. I put on my overalls
and I dive under the boat. No luck, the pins are fixed past few centimeters above a coral plateau fairly flat, while the sea went down. Ten meters between us and open water. In our misfortune, it suits me.
I go back, requires a hot coffee to Barbara, and encourages my little crew take a solid breakfast. We will need energy! The boat took a few degrees to starboard, we're not used! I explain the situation to mine, not bad if the weather remains calm, explains what we do to get the boat out of this uncomfortable situation, and distributes the roles. I promise everyone that we float in open water again in a few hours. I feel the tension, concentration, but not worry excessively. I get to joke.
I guess however that recent events experienced in Kelefesia are not far from the minds ... But my optimism justified maintaining the morale of the crew. Marino also dons his wetsuit, we prepare everything on the deck hardware.
Barbara and Adelie remain on board, Marin and I embark on the schedule. We start with the most difficult: meeting all the main anchor at hand to embark on the schedule. I cut the bitter end, girls dévirent the windlass, the annex was sinking, but we bear the main anchor at 180 meters in the output shaft of the boat. Gradually we lengthen the chain, Marin plunges to bury the anchor plow and optimize the operation, then we bring the end of textile rode on the windlass drum. Tensioning simple, ready to turn. We note the slight Fortress anchor (whose outfit is surprisingly effective, I had already experienced) previously wet, and bring to 150 meters from the boat to starboard 20 ° to the longitudinal axis. The back end on the winch to starboard solent. Tensioning, the anchor was hooked, this is the second anchor line ready to tow the boat. Each is equipped with a float rope. But that's not all wear anchors away to bail out, it must also be able to stop the boat when he returns to open water, before it gets back on a potato whose corner is full! We anchored our third anchor 120 meters on the rear port side, close to the reef.
Overall, this work has taken us almost three hours. Barbara has prepared a huge dish of pasta with basil and olive oil. Resuming forces. The sea goes up since 9:00, the boat is recovering gradually. We are ready. I dive from time to time to monitor the situation under water, and Adelie is responsible for my bodyguard. It monitors the yellow and black snake that we saw repeatedly in the morning around the boat does not care too close to his Dad. It is the largest that we have insight far, about 1.50 meters, and it is better to avoid the encounter.
The starboard keel off at 12:45. I take a little tension on both lines before wetting. At 1:25 p.m., the boat begins to move toward open water. Unnecessary force, the weather is stable, calm seas, he must wait. Ten minutes later, I repeat again the voltage on the main mooring line. The boat is released shortly after the coral, we feel two or three small shock keels that hang slightly back towards the open water, the boat floats gently back over the white sand. I take back the mooring line, stopping the boat. We're out of business!
I uttered a cry of victory, and I see a nice smile on the face of Barbara. I know she has you concern, but she trusted me completely at sea Adelie also is relieved. She took on her for several hours, by paying attention to small tasks entrusted to him. Marino was great working all morning he helped me to implement the device anchors, my son grows up, and I'm proud of him.
We inspect the pins: A little rework low bowling, but no structural damage. The shocks were mild. The hulls and propellers have never touched. I reconnected the rudders, we note the secondary anchors one by one, then the main mooring line, which finds its place in the locker. Engines purr. We resolve to win Panga, the main village of Ha'apai, about twenty miles further north. The day falls gently on the sheltered bay.
The Ha'apai sent us two warning messages in a few days. Needless to stress. Sailors are superstitious.
We are looking now to the road which must lead us soon in New Zealand.
But first I want to make a detour to the island-volcano of Tofu, which I see the massive figure in the west for several days.
Tonight at anchor Panga, double ration of rum for the crew.
Jangada paid tribute to the dangerous virginity Ha'apai.
Olivier
dorado A particularly combative.
Only masts Turtle still emerging above the reef ...
... of Kelefesia, a small island of Ha'apai.
sad end of the story of a sailboat ...
Kelefesia The small beach, over which we have brought the towers of La Tortue. On the left, the boat of Noah.
Nicolas and Marie-Laure, castaways returned to the scene of the tragedy.
Local fishermen have invited us to dinner on the beach.
roasted pig on the menu!
Adelie, the village of Fonuafua, to Ha'apai.
Children on the Beach Limu Island.
On Beach Limu Island, it's not just shells ...
Jangada failed for several hours at Limu Island, on the morning of October 17.
Limu Island, Mon particular family memories for the crew of Jangada.
A powerful grain to Ha'apai, like the one we played a bad round. This is just a memory.
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