13 days – 2500 Nautical Miles – 38 degrees South
By Capt. Prentice Brower, SV Resilience
The preparations for the Āvei Moana Expedition required months of planning for the field season alone. In addition, the crew ofs Resilience had their hands full with vessel preparation: two haul outs in Aotearoa, rigging, welding, painting, sanding, varnishing, electrical, canvas…the list had no end. What felt like months to prepare began to dwindle into weeks and then finally days. On May 9th, Resilience and her crew departed Whangarei, Aotearoa New Zealand and began the nearly 2500 nautical miles (NM) ocean passage to the Austral Islands, French Polynesia. This would be the first Ara Moana, or ocean pathway, of the Āvei Moana Expedition.
I had been studying weather patterns and forecasts for months leading up to the passage. This isn’t your typical “coconut run” ocean crossing. We could either head north for Tonga and Samoa and then east against the trade winds for French Polynesia, or head southeast into the upper regions of the winds known as the “Roaring Forties”. This part of the ocean is named after it’s latitude and is known for very strong westerly winds, which are accompanied by massive ocean waves. I chose to head south.
The weather window was everything. If you leave at the wrong time, you could get beaten up badly by wind and waves. We had heard of a couple of boats who headed out days before us and had to turn around due to bad weather and damage. A good window began to emerge in the forecasts and we took it. The first couple of days as we sailed away from NZ and past East Cape were intense. High gusty winds and steep waves required constant vigilance at the helm. The water and the air were cold already and we were heading further south. Thankfully on our way out to sea, dolphins and albatross joined us; a good omen for our passage.
With the wind at our backs, the days carried on and our crew settled into the routine of things. The miles continued under our keel and the swell got bigger, but it had longer periods, and therefore were much more manageable. We all took rotating watches at the helm. I slept in the cockpit for the entire 14day passage incase help was needed on deck.
Three days into our passage we saw a large dark grey whale pass by our bow. A moment later we caught a massive yellow fin tuna on our hand line! From that moment on, our depth sounder would occasionally signal shallow. We concluded that it was that same whale, swimming under our keel and keeping an eye on us during our passage. That whale sighting also marked the start of our eDNA data collection work for this Ara Moana (the data collection points for this portion of the expedition are illustrated below).
By May 12th we had reached 39degrees south, the furthest south we would sail. We could finally, slowly make our way north as we approached longitude of the Austral islands. Once we got close to being nearly due south of these islands, we could safely turn due north and still maintain a good wind angle. The weather thus far had been incredible, albeit cold. We had good speed. Nearly every morning we would have a rainbow as small rain squalls would pass by. I was hesitant to mention how great the weather had been. We continued north. The water and the air began to warm. Layers of clothing could be removed.
With only a few days left until landfall, lightning appeared on the horizon. At first, it seemed like it was remaining in the clouds and seemed to be of no threat. We used to call this heat lightning as kids. The day passed without a worry, but then night came. Lightning steadily intensified. Suddenly it was striking the ocean surface all around us. The dark night sky would flash to something the seemed much brighter than any daylight. We made sure to put rubber soled shoes back on, feeling a bit more vulnerable with our feet in the water running over the deck. We also decided to hold the helm with our right hand; the idea being that if electricity were to flow through us, it wouldn’t pass our heart. I have no idea if either of these things would really make a difference, but it made us feel a bit more settled. The radar showed squalls all around. We searched for pockets to pass through the worst of it; setting us on a course that would bring us west and sometimes even south. This was our weather for the final three days of our passage. We would have short breaks between, but the lightning was always on the horizon. Heavy rains would come in and out. The silver lining was that Resilience was receiving a good freshwater washdown before landfall.
On May 22nd, we sighted land for the first time. Tubua’I emerged from the clouds. Spirits were very high. We entered the lagoon just before sunset and the crew jumped in the water as soon as the anchor was set. We had made it. We could now rest and settle into French Polynesia…or so we thought. The squalls that joined us for our final days at sea were still out there and although we were anchored, we were not necessarily safe. I’ll share more on that in our next log.
Our Anchorage in Tubua’i
Tubua’I is a beautiful island surrounded by reef in the Austral Islands. The people are wonderfully kind and
I no longer slept in full pants, wool socks, scarf and hat and wrapped in a sleeping bag.
There are two more popular routes to take when sailing this way. One is to sail North for Tonga and Samoa before beating (sailing upwind) for 1500NM to Tahiti. Even then, Tahiti was not where we were ultimately headed and French Polynesia is a massive country. We were headed for the Marquesas, another 1300NM. The second route is to sail South and East from New Zealand and make your way into the strong westerlies that constantly blow around the bottom of the earth. This second route is far less contrary to the elements, in that you’re not trying to sail against the ocean, but it does mean high winds and big seas. Even so, we decided to sail South East.
