AS the squall passed and the stars began
to appear in the inky night sky, a gentle
southerly breeze filled in and replaced the
tradewinds that had been driving Carina rapidly
along our rhumb line. “Drat, noserlies,” muttered
Leslie, “maybe it’s time to motor.”
After almost twelve days of squalls
interrupted by calms with a few delightful
hours of easy sailing, we agreed it was time
to burn some of the ancient dinosaurs stored
in our diesel fuel tank. It was 0300 local at 01
degrees south latitude in the lonely western
Pacific Ocean and we were on passage from the
Republic of Palau over 800 nautical miles away.
We could just begin to see the
signature of the fringing reef of our
destination on our radar; dawn was
not far away. A mid-morning arrival
at the pass would allow us ample
daylight for conning and picking our
way through the shallow reefs into
the deep lagoon to our anchorage.
Given the intensity and direction
of the wind we had, motoring was the only
option in order to cover the remaining distance
to reach our anchorage when we hoped to. We
furled in our headsails and held our breath as
we turned the key to the engine, releasing it only
when the Yanmar came to life at the push of the
starter button.
The rumbling little diesel engine and our
anticipation of landfall at a place few visit
would keep us both awake, so we set about to
make sweet hot tea and settled into watching
our track on a satellite photo displayed on asmall tablet PC as our charts were at
best inaccurate.
With no moon and no swell to create breakers
on the reef, there was no room for error as we
closed on the atoll. As the eastern sky began
to glow, silhouettes of tiny motus emerged on
the horizon and we cautiously approached,
following the waypoints we had uploaded to our
GPS and peering ahead continuously searching
for uncharted hazards. Unlit sailing canoes are
known to ply these waters.
The pass was only a narrow east-west break
in the coral and the rising sun was still low
in the sky, so Philip took a bow watch and we
pointed Carina at the location indicated on
the geo-referenced satellite image. With no
tide tables to guide us, we had no idea what
we might find for current in the pass but
hoped for the best, or enough wiggle room to
abort if necessary.
As we entered the pass, Carina began to
sashay with the outfalls and small whirlpools
and our speed dropped to about two knots.
Leslie increased the engine revs. and we kept
pushing stubbornly against the tidal f low
until we emerged inside the lagoon, negotiated
shallows and proceeded south, all the while on
watch for reefs.
“This is it”, Leslie advised when we had
reached the waypoint of our chosen anchorage
and I let the anchor drop into the bright
turquoise water, let Carina drop back and
then set the anchor hard. We felt a mixture of
exhaustion, elation and disbelief. After months
of planning, purchasing and packing hundredsPREVIOUS SPREAD:
... and they are off in
The Great Ninigo Islands
Canoe Race.
THIS PAGE, LEFT TO
RIGHT: Locals watch
the racing with Philip.
Surprisingly nimble craft.
Building a new canoe.66
Cruising Helmsman June 2017“NINIGO IS ABSOLUTELY SAFE;
YOU ARE TREATED LIKE
HONOURED GUESTS THERE.”
DESTINATION
SE ASIA