ABOUT: Chris & Manuela departed San Francisco, California, on April 18th on their J-40 sloop to sail to the South Pacific and points west. We think we'll be sailing 2-3 years, and then return to our normal lives. ARCHIVES:   Friday, September 19, 2003   Hello to all of you, It has been a little over a month since I last wrote to you from Tonga, from where we are about to leave. Internet service has been rather spotty (supposedly still the results of that nasty internet worm/virus), so I am not sure if I’ll be able to include any pictures with this email – you’ll know as you read this. One of the things that Manuela and I were anxious about when arriving here, was our relative inexperience with anchoring and navigating through coral, which are things that are difficult to practice in the SF Bay. I am happy to say, that we feel much better in this regard now. We’ve dropped the hook in most of the plentiful anchorages here in Vava’u, and learned much in the process. Especially helpful has been to snorkel/dive on the anchor after setting it, and inspecting the results of one’s efforts. For those of you heading out in the future, I’d definitely put a set of mask & fins on the list of things to take along. Somewhat disquieting was initially most of the holding ground, which seems to consist of rapidly dropping off sandstone covered in about 1 foot of sand. The anchor never really digs in deep, but instead typically hooks behind some rock or coral. But despite my worries and modest wind shifts, we never dragged or came loose. My brother Ben & his girlfriend Rosa came to visit us for a little over 3 weeks – it was really wonderful to have company here on Argonaut. With Ben and Rosa, we braved the Fanautapu Pass, which leads from the western part of Vava’u to its eastern half. The pass itself was much wider and easier to navigate than we had assumed. Yet, the route from this pass to Kenutu, the easternmost island in Vava’u, was a bit nerve-wracking. We carefully picked our way through a somewhat lengthy region of reefs, shallows and coral heads. While Ben & I were on the bow looking for the different shades of blue that foretell a reef or shallower ground, Manuela had to (blindly) follow our steering directions. At times it looked to her as if we were guiding here directly onto a reef, which must have been rather disquieting. As we arrived in Kenutu, we found 3 yachts at anchor, one of which had run aground and was more lying on its side than standing up. Yet with the help of the next high tide and a kedging anchor, he easily pulled free and all was well. Rosa, Ben, Manuela, Chris on the Beach at Kenutu Kenutu itself is a rather large, uninhabited island that is part of the outer reef string of Vava’u. The western shore is one long, somewhat rough, sandy beach, while the eastern shore has been pounded by the arriving seas into a near vertical 100-200’ abyss. Similar to Kenutu and barely 100 yards to the north lays Unuma. The “Lonely Planet” had described a fresh water cave on this island, so we set out in our dinghy with a nice cleansing swim on our minds. Sadly enough, the water was at best brackish, so no refreshment here. The next morning we were greeted by a rather garish sight – the catamaran Dandelion had run aground on one of the reefs towards Kenutu, despite having posted a lookout on the bow and being careful in their navigation. The charts in these waters here are still based on British surveys from the 1890’s (I am not making this up), so navigating purely based on charts is a pretty chancy preposition. Dead reckoning and eyes are much preferable over pure GPS navigation. In addition, the light conditions (sun from behind to avoid glare) are important – something that was probably missing in this case. Working to free Dandelion Anyhow, Max (a single handing Bavarian also in Kenutu at the time), Ben, and I dinghied over to Dandelion and offered our help, which was gladly accepted. We joined the group of Roger, the owner, his friend John, daughter Caren, all from South Africa, and a local Tongan. Max, who had prior experience in the salvage of large vessels, soon directed the overall effort. We set two anchors by dinghy: number 1 directly behind the cat to help pull us off; number 2 angled off to one side to give us directional stability. In parallel, we attached a large number of fenders to the hull to aid with flotation once the tide would rise again. Lastly, we lightened the boat as much as possible, emptying the water tanks, etc.. The work was made doubly hard by the waves rolling over the reef. Something as simple as pulling a chain over the reef required multiple attempts, as the chain would get hooked behind a coral, coral would give way underneath one’s foot, or a wave would topple one over. Needless to say, coral cuts were a basic ingredient of this work. Only a native Tongan, who worked the whole day BAREFOOT, did not show a single cut a the end of the day. How, none of us could understand. As night fell, the tide began to rise, and the hull began to move on the reef. The most dangerous time had begun, as the hull could easily grind itself to bits if we didn’t manage to get it loose before the waves did their work. To add a little drama to the work, Poseidon decided to send a squall-line our way. Now we had lightening, wind, waves, and rain to aid us. Fun. To be honest though, I think Poseidon did have our best interests at heart, as the larger waves were in fact helping. We had tensioned the anchor lines to such an extent, that each time a wave crest lifted us, we would shoot back a foot or so over the reef and then settle down again. A little over half an hour later we were free. Wow, what a feeling. And how Roger & family must have felt. A young Tongan dancer Well, we are now back on the western, easier, side of Vava’u. Ben & Rosa left yesterday. And Manuela and I are about to bid farewell to Tonga and set sail for New Caledonia. At roughly 1200 miles (2000km), this will be one of the shorter passages we have yet undertaken. I am really looking forward to spending time truly sailing again. And, with a bit of luck, we’ll be in Noumea, New Caledonia, in 7-10 days. ‘til then, Chris & Manuela Christoph 7:39 PM