Heading North !

[The first of the Liz's letters home from our passage north]

Greetings!

If you have been watching our Predictwind tracker, you will see that we finally made it out of Majuro Atoll after a bit of a false start. If you have been watching it closely, you might have noticed that we seem to be stumbling erratically. We have actually been sailing a surprisingly straight line but we think we might have jammed our Iridium GO GPS with some of the silver insulation we put into Fluenta's ceiling in preparation for the cold weather ahead. Once again, those 'secondary effects' have made themselves known, and rectifying this is now 'on the list'.

We were later than expected clearing customs on Tuesday: when I went to the office on Monday, the agent and I set a time of 1pm the following afternoon for him to come to the dock to stamp us out, but I found myself on Island time ... waiting until 4pm! He was very apologetic when he finally showed up, but given that this was the longest period during which I had 'just sat' since we arrived in Majuro in early April, that my provisions were being labeled and stowed by two teenaged elves onboard Fluenta, and that there was a steady stream of cruisers coming and going at the dock to chat with, it wasn't an unpleasant afternoon!

Accompanied by the sound of horns from a neighbouring boat, we slipped our lines a couple of hours later, and headed out to the moorings five miles away at Enemonet, where we had spent such a good time with the other kid boats over Easter. This late in the season, we pretty much had our pick of the moorings, and tied up just as the light was fading. After an evening and a day spent stowing provisions, we raised our mainsail and slipped quietly off the mooring just around 5pm Wednesday, with time to head through the pass before sunset. As I was taking 'one last photo' to post with our remaining internet, I was vaguely aware that all was not well in the cockpit. When I gave the situation my full attention, I found Max and Johnathan wrestling with the genoa furler: it was jammed, and the only option was to return to our mooring and have a look at it. At that moment, we had no way of knowing whether it needed a slight adjustment or a mail-order of new parts (which would have pretty much put a wrench in all our Alaska plans), so we simply ate an early dinner (mac & cheese, a popular passage-making first meal) and called it a night.

By 7am the next day, we had the genoa out on the deck, had hoisted Max up the forestay once to ease the head of the sail over a protruding set screw (easily tightened with a 3mm allen key at anchor, but much more difficult to deal with at sea), and had calls into the manufacturer and to our preferred rigger in NZ (Thanks Rob at NSR). Then began the waiting game, as we gave our contacts time to consider our situation. We couldn't really replicate the issue, and when he turned the furling drum, Max didn't notice any grinding or binding. The bearing seals seemed in good condition. We had noticed when we took the sail down that the halyard tension was less than normal, which would have put more of the weight of the sail on the bearings, but we didn't know if this would have been enough to cause our problem. Finally, by mid-afternoon, the calls had been returned, the heads had been scratched, and we were building a consensus that the furling unit was probably fine. We put the sail back up (once again hoisting Max aloft to ease the sail over a slight mis-alignment in the extrusions, with Victoria on the halyard winch, Johnathan at the foot of the sail easing it up the track and myself on the main winch controlling Max's elevation; Benjamin's contribution was to keep out of the way!). We made sure there was plenty of tension on the halyard, eased it in and out a number of times without incident, and decided that it was time to head North!

It took several days into a relatively uneventful passage for everyone to get their sealegs back. We have spent the last two months on our mooring in Majuro working night and day to effect repairs and improvements in preparation for our trip, so our bodies complained a bit at the constant movement of being at sea (despite the relatively benign conditions!). We celebrated our escape from the 'gravitational field' of Majuro with our first bag of "milestone chips" once we were out of the pass and truly on our way. (In the Maritimes people eat "storm chips" when they are storm-stayed at home with bad weather; we eat 'Milestone chips' when we have something to celebrate ... I have bought bags and bags of chips in preparation for this passage!)

Our wind generator self-destructed on our return to Majuro back in April, so we have been listening to the sound of our gas generator pretty much once every day. The first charge controller we received from our supplier seemed to have a fault that kept us from making power so we had them send us another one. Just in case there was an issue with it as well, we agreed with their suggestion to include a basic rectifier. When the second charge controller didn't work in our system, it was the rectifier that we finally installed. It is a little more manual of a system (eg we have to shut it down with the big brake switch if the wind goes over 27 kts or the wind generator will overheat) but otherwise it is working fine. Coupled with our water-towed generator, which we deployed for the first time in a couple of years, we were pretty much holding our own power-wise on this passage, and we could leave our gas generator snuggly tied in its place on the back deck.

For once, our course was not hard upwind, so Fluenta has been speeding along. Victoria has been a constant daytime presence in the cockpit, while Johnathan has been on 'Benjamin duty' downstairs. We have decided to 'pull over' in Rongerik (an atoll near the very north of the Marshall Islands) to make a few repairs (including a leaking window gasket that lets in just enough water over the starboard bench to make its occupant feel like they are in the cockpit and some rigging issues) and to wait for a good weather window to set out on the remaining distance to Alaska. To create a daylight entrance into the pass, we have had to slow our speed significantly (ie from over 7 kts to 3.5 kts). Even with a small main and miniscule headsail, Fluenta was still determined to move at 5 kts through the water, so we forereached back and forth in front of the western pass (and in the lee of the island) to wait for daylight.

We arrived in the Rongerik lagoon mid-morning on Sunday, and transitted the 7nm across the pass without incident. If we were coming back, we would time our arrival even later in the day, as the bombies were hard to see in the morning sunshine. Thank goodness for satellite imagery and bluetooth headsets!

We are pretty much alone here at Rongerik: the island is uninhabited by people. We have, however, seen dolphins, flocks of curious boobies and other sea birds, and even a shark, which was rude enough to hook itself on our lure as we came in through the pass! We had been hoping for a tuna for dinner, but we got quite a surprise when Max pulled the line near enough to the boat for us to see his catch - it was a little reef shark, which we had to very bravely cut loose by holding it steady and cutting the ring that held the hook to the lure. Max asked whether I wanted to lift or cut, and I was pretty quick to volunteer to lift! I held it steady near the toerail, and he got close to the teeth with his side cutters to cut away the hook. Thankfully, the shark seemed to be 'playing dead' and it didn't fight at all once we got it out of the water. There was no weight to the creature, and it swam away very quickly once we cut it loose. Hopefully it won't try that kind of bright green & yellow 'Halco fish' again!

For now, we will rest, repair, and enjoy the last of the tropical scenery before we head North towards Alaska.

All is well on board.

Love to all,
Elizabeth
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At 2019-04-01 6:37 AM (utc) SV Fluenta's position was 11°23.08'N 167°30.32'E

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