Mamanuca Islands Fiji and Kauai's North Shore

We have been fond of saying things like, “You are welcome to visit us, but you only get to choose the place OR the date, not both.” Our cruising style firmly requires not to have any set dates, because they tend to create a lot of stress when trying to keep to them amid constantly changing weather. Of course cyclone (hurricane for you northern hemi dwellers) season is one of those dates that is not too flexible, at least it is a month long target. However, there is always an exception to the rule and we found ourselves committed to be in Nadi, Fiji to catch a flight to a close friends wedding on 4 October 2012 (Chris as groomsman for a close undergraduate friend, Matt Gehrke). Since we bought the tickets while in Samoa, our cruise track and timing decisions have been shadowed by a set date putting a bit of a squeeze on our time. So yet again, we continue to struggle with not having enough time to explore as in depth as we would like. Realistically though, if we want to keep our goal of reaching Australia this season, it has been important to keep pushing, and we realize that we have been amazingly lucky to fit in as much as we have. Several times thus far in Fiji, we have both felt the Universe aligning for us allowing safe weather passage, more time than we thought in several areas, catching up with some super fun fellow cruisers, and yes, even making our pre-chosen flight date. We are so grateful for everything we were able to do and see and recently have felt like some guardian angel was helping to align moon, stars, and planets to allow us to see and do so much.

Our trip to Hawaii, though difficult to arrange and expensive, was marvelous and totally worth it! Admittedly it was a whirlwind and we didn’t fit as much in as we had hoped (such as daily yoga, visiting yoga friends in Kapaa or visiting our frequently utilized HAM station that is based there), but it was truly special to be able to part of Matt and Carmen’s beautiful Kauai wedding, and Shawn even caught the bouquet. Of course Chris caught some great Hawaii surf with Matt and all the fun surf friends that showed up from far corners of the world for the wedding. In addition, besides Shawn finally succumbing to a cold, as we laid over in Honolulu we were able to visit Chris’ grandmother and his father Dave, mail 2 boxes of our collected souvenirs back to the mainland, as well as drop a package full of gifts for folks on Fanning Island off at the Kwai (it showed up when we were down there and is headed back again in the next few months). Shawn even managed to fit in a Bikram Yoga class the day before we flew back to Nadi, Fiji.

 

It sure takes a lot less time to fly from Fiji to Hawaii than to sail from Hawaii to Fiji- 12-hrs and you get a day back versus 6 months and so many unique irreplaceable experiences! Of course, we also lost the day again flying back across the date line. And we were actually lucky to be let back into Fiji, because apparently we were supposed to visit immigration before we left to get permission to come back in with what they consider a one-way ticket. It is so hard to follow all the rules and we really do try. Regardless, they allowed us back in and Tao was fine after her 10-day rest. We flew in just a few days after a beautiful weather window for heading west (which both Convivia and Britannia took to Vanuatu), so we gladly resigned ourselves to enjoy a little bit more of Fiji while awaiting the next window. We spent the next 4-days at Vuda Marina recovering from our vacation from our cruising lifestyle as well as preparing the boat by implementing some sewing projects (including Drifter and weather cloth repair and making a tiller cover), filling propane, and adding diesel for the first time since we left Hawaii in May (only 15-gallons!).

Saturday 20 October we motored out of Vuda, Chris wrestling with our “drunken” autopilot Captain Tilly, and then had a nice upwind sail approximately 10-nm SW to Musket Cove in Malolo Island, during which Chris played with his new GoPro camera and Shawn somehow managed to get quite sunburned in an overcast but summer Fiji day. A week quickly passed by in the safe anchorage, packed with at least 30 boats each night. We met several fun people, talked to other cruisers that also await weather windows (many toward NZ), went to BBQ’s on shore, and generally enjoyed the safety of the deep anchorage as a low pressure system passed south of Fiji. One day, we even adventured in Tao out of the reefy protection to Namotu Island at the outer edge of Viti Levu’s reefs, where Chris surfed a small swell and we both enjoyed some clear water snorkeling. Unfortunately, winds picked up to make the anchorage a lee shore and we had to make haste out of there in the early afternoon back to Musket Cove, but a few days later Chris was invited to dinghy over again for some more stellar surf. 

After spending a few nights anchored in a bit shallower (37-ft versus 58-ft) “secret spot” that Chris found after rowing around in Fatty, we grabbed a mooring for a few days in hopes of being able to check out with a group bound for NZ. We took the opportunity to deep clean Tao and remove Rocky in preparation for offshore passage. Unfortunately the outer island checkout fell through for our time-frame, so we reattached the anchor and sailed 20-nm downwind to Lautoka to formally check out of Fiji on our own schedule, during Fiji business hours of course. Although we would love to visit all of our friends in Vanuatu, we feel the need to make westward tracks to stay ahead of cyclone season. So far the weather window looks great for the approximately week long passage from Fiji to New Caledonia. If the weather window closes, we’ll have the option to duck into Noumea for some protection. If the window stays open, however, though we would love to explore there as well, we may bypass New Caledonia and continue on to our goal for this season: Brisbane, Australia!

Weather and Plans

After our yoga day on the N shore in Nabari at the Meleang Tabwai Secondary School (MTSS), we returned to Tao where the water jugs were filled and the rain had finally relinquished. Still, dark thunderclouds lined the distant sky, and there was now not a breath of wind. We usually filter the freshwater from Fatty into large buckets on deck, but today, the buckets were already full and Fatty was riding extra low in the water. Chris had the brilliant idea to use Fatty and her copious fresh water catch as a bath; what extravagance, and quite an amazing view from the near water level tub! The next day dawned sunny and the stillness continued. It turned into a work day as we diligently checked items to-do-before-leaving-Fanning off the list: change Moni's lines, check rig tension, check prop and rudder zincs, upload uncharted reef waypoints into the GPS, plot our course, download more weather data, manage our photos, air out cushions, and the list goes on. Tuesday morning we had planned to go to the main village, Tereitaki, on the other side of the channel and check out of Kiribati. But the day flowed differently. Before we were able to organize ourselves for the day, Michael from Fianna rowed across the channel for the first time to visit, so we spent the morning catching up with him. Soon after, Quixotic moved to our side of the channel and motivated an "everyone-is-leaving-soon" cruisers potluck. We reluctantly let go of our "plans" for the day and went with the flow.

The following morning we meticulously performed some detailed weather analyses to determine the most favorable timing for departure. As we have yet to find useful discussion or forecast (from the seemingly exhaustive list of saildocs from which we pull down our weather data; if anyone has this data, please enlighten us) of the area we are about to enter, we poured through the last week of collected weather data and tracked the development and movement of the Inter Tropical Convergence Zone (ITCZ) by plotting where our Pacific Forecast text stated it was located. The ITCZ (aka Doldrums) is a belt of permanent low pressure near the equator where the NE tradewinds and SE tradewinds converge, characterized by calm and variable winds accompanied by thunderstorms and squalls. Light, variable, or no winds punctuated by 30-knot squalls with the possibility of heavy thunder and lightning are far from ideal sailing conditions (at least for us), so we would like to minimize our exposure to this constantly shifting area (check out our Planned Cruise Track post to see an approximation of where it is usually located). Our plots of the ITCZ movement clearly indicated that the day we experienced continuous heavy downpours, lightning and thunder, and subsequent fluky winds (which even came from the west (?!) for a time), the ITCZ axis had moved directly over and even a little bit north of us. With this knowledge, we went back through previously downloaded GRIB files and noted that this disturbance had indeed been demonstrated by the wind barbs in the forecast. Looking at newly downloaded GRIB forecasts, we see a similar, but larger, disturbance brewing between 2-deg N and 3-deg S next Tuesday and Wednesday. Whether under sail or motor in such light and variable winds, it would be impossible for us to avoid this disturbance.

With our conservative "wait for the weather" attitude, leaving this Saturday as we were revving up to do is unfortunately (at least for keeping to our "plans") no longer the plan. Although frustrating because we know there is so much awaiting us to see farther along our cruise track, and each day that ticks by at this point we forgo seeing something else, we agree (yet again) that waiting for the right weather window is of ultimate importance. So, we'll wait and continue to gather detailed daily weather data. We think that we were lulled into believing the winds here just always blew since we'd been here over 3-weeks and seen nothing but solid 18-20-knot ENE winds. It has been a gentle reminder of an important lesson: in addition to already keeping on top of overall basic weather in areas with which we are not completely familiar, we need to start looking at detailed weather data at minimum a week before we really actually want to push off. On the up side, it's not like we've nothing to do to keep busy. Another swell is forecast to get here the 16th through 19th. We will continue to watch the ITCZ movement, and instead of having a long list of things we still want to do, we will spend the next week actually preparing ourselves and Tao to be ready to pull the anchor whenever the moment is right.

Wait...for...it...

Time: 1800 Zulu (10am Hawaii time)
Position: 19-deg 40-min N 156-deg 01-min W
Wind: calm Seas: calm
Avg. Course: 002 (at least that's the direction our bow is pointed)
Avg. Speed: 0.0-knots
Rig: 80% jib and mains'l nestled in their sail covers
24-hr distance traveled: 0-nm
Distance to Fanning Island: 965-nm

The best things come to those who wait, right? Testing our patience, we  have chosen to wait another 24-hrs in hopes that the long-term-turned-near-term forecast of decreased winds and seas off South Point continues to hold. So, we will do the walk of shame to the Harbor Office telling them that we are here just one more night, Chris will replace our engine start switch (last evening post wash down, the starter circuit was shorting- again), and we will continue to enjoy eating the produce that refuses to wait with us. The new plan is to get up tomorrow (Wednesday) morning, top off diesel at the fuel dock, and slowly sail south in the light winds found in the lee of Hawai'i. All of this in hopes to time reaching the area off South Point (approximately 24-hrs after leaving Honokohau) in a period of more comfortable winds and seas. Only time will tell...

Goodbye and Fair Winds Don Anderson

Don Anderson
Obituary Picture via
Orange County Register

I have a huge soft spot for Don Anderson and I am deeply saddened to hear of his passing. He has been our mainstay weather guru throughout our cruising s/v Tao over the past 5 years. I actually have a little guilt as well, because I am angry. Our time with him was not finished. I was actually not-so-patiently awaiting a reply e-mail from him regarding general weather routing in the next month from Hawaii to the South Pacific when I found out. I know he does not like contact via e-mail, but we are currently preparing to leave and in a harbor that is too noisy for good reception so were trying to set up a time to be able to bug him via HF radio with his beam antenna pointed our way. Rather solitary out here in Hawaii, without the cruiser connectivity (as Don had warned us, this is not considered a good cruising ground and after spending a year here we think it deserves more of a chance, though most cruisers don't give it the time), we did not hear of his passing right away. Luckily, before we sent a second e-mail, we heard the disturbing news when talking with Midnight Blue, cruising friends from Mexico, who had heard via the PacSea net. And I am angry still, because after this season’s cruise we had special plans to stop in Oxnard to present him with a bottle of scotch, give him a hug, and talk story with him about what a huge impact he has had on our lives.

Chris and I finally threw off the dock lines from Berkeley, CA in November of 2008. We slowly moved down the California Coast toward Mexico and unfortunately did not know about Don until we were way downwind of Ventura. If we had known him yet, we would surely have made it a priority to stop in and say hello. We slowly made our way down the Outside of the Baja and found one of the nets he forecasted on. As we neared Scorpion Bay, where we hoped to set the hook and surf for a few days we finally got up the courage to ask for a weather fill. He was happy to report (we were to find that the bigger the storm, the more excited he was to report on it) that a big low was coming down, and winds were going to be from the south all the way down to our intended anchorage. His advice, he would not be caught in there! We took his advice and continued on to the protection of Bahia Santa Maria. The southerlies did not end up making it quite that far south, yet we were grateful to have had his fill, were content with our conservative decision, and happily hunkered down from the strong northerly flow that set in. From then on, we listened to Don religiously. He provided us relief and knowledge and education (about both weather and radios) from there on.

Through our first season in the Sea of Cortez in 2009, we were entertained as we listened to his weather reports and learned about squash zones, northers, coromuels, adiabatic winds, and iCom 802 clipping. Then he talked us through a second season in 2010 which included several unexpectedly motorless long distance passages as well as us being early season cruisers in the Northern Sea of Cortez where he patiently explained to us what Elefantes were the morning after we had encountered a blessedly small one, forecast Chubascos as they began to menace, and the promontory effect, of which he often spoke, suddenly became clear. Most of our time in the Sea of Cortez we tended to be away from the bulk of cruisers, so we frequently chimed into nets for weather fills in “off the beaten track” areas. Don was always willing to provide us fills and often times we got way more than we asked for. We trusted his advice all the more as over and over again his predictions were spot on. Then in 2011 we decided to jump from Mexico to Hawaii. Without fail, Don was there standing watch before the Amigo Net every morning of our 26-day passage (except Sundays) logging our track, ushering us in the right direction, allaying our fears of hurricanes, and providing us special weather routing. One morning when I questioned him about squalls we were seeing he replied "South of 22-deg N, you are in the tropics, my darling, squalls are everywhere and are impossible to forecast. You forecast them with your eyes and your radar. They always travel NE to SW and you will see an increase in local winds of 5 to 10-knots". Yup, this was exactly what we saw (though we don't have radar). Lovingly, get used to it, was written between the lines. He further educated us about trade winds, channelized winds, and warned us about the channels between the islands as we approached Hawaii.

We were unable to reach him via radio through the noise once we landed in Hawaii but were able to thank him via e-mail and expected we would have more contact once leaving the Hawaiian Islands. We are profoundly distressed to imagine never hearing his soothing voice discussing weather over the radio waves again. We learned so much from him and feel lucky to have known him at all. Thank you Don, for the tireless service that you provided the cruising community, we are forever grateful.

For an excellent tribute to Don Anderson, check out Just a Minute's blog.

Unstable Winter Weather Passages

Sunrise in Lahaina on the 10th of December brought moist, windy, and rainbow filled conditions. We constantly monitored the 6-hourly updated NOAA weather reports surrounding the unstable atmosphere and watched the rapidly changing conditions trying to make a plan. In an afternoon lull in the wind, we managed to get to shore in time for the Saturday market in Banyan Tree Park. While ashore we visited the Lahaina Yacht Club to check in, then went to the grocery to buy our favorite Hawaiian style poke and sushi snacks, and finally we scoped out areas to leave Fatty and park a rental car. We were hoping to spend a few days on the mooring, rent a car and tour some of eastern Maui that we have not yet seen (Haleakela and Hana). Unfortunately, that night we had another poor night of sleep. The strong currents (reminiscent of La Paz, Mexico) held us as strange angles to the wind and waves, allowing our roll stabilizer to tangle with the mooring. When we awoke to hear that the motor boat next to us broke free of its mooring and damaged a nearby cruising catamaran, we decided that it was time for us to move on.

Holiday Banyan Tree

One of these dinghys doesn't look like the others.
We love Fatty!!

After visiting new friends on Quixotic (whose catamaran had sustained damage from the errant powerboat), we prepped Tao to sail. The fickle winds vanished just as we were about to sail off the mooring, but with our minds set on moving to a more comfortable sleeping anchorage, we fired up Yannie and headed east. New destination: Sugar Beach at Kihei, with back up of McGregor’s Landing if Maalaea Bay was too rough to cross (there were 20 knot winds forecast for the day). With our full main and 80% jib, we sailed on the inconsistent shifting winds in the lee of the Maui West Mountains. We passed Awalua Beach anchorage, where we had spent our 10-yr anniversary, and continued on around the point and past Olowalu. It was at this spot on our way west that winds had screamed down the valley prompting our decision not to anchor here. This time, however, we were more prepared and dropped the full main before reaching the slot in the mountains while sailing by. The weather felt electric. Ahead toward Maalaea Bay, conditions did not look good with the tops being blown off frothy white caps. But still determined, we continued on. However, we were quickly overpowered when we reached the gap winds. It was indeed as rough as it looked from afar. These were not the predicted 20-knot winds, closer to 40-knots! Upon Shawn’s pleas and knowing that we were indeed overpowered with our current configuration, Chris jibed us and we headed back toward the safety of Awalua Beach. Unwilling to believe that we were unable to even reach McGregor’s Landing, stubbornly Chris begged Shawn to let us try again. With longing glances over his shoulder, he claimed it looked like conditions were mellowing again and maybe we had just seen the leading edge. A second attempt, however, had us quickly running back to safer conditions.

We reached Awalua Beach just in time for the winds rushing down the 4K-ft mountains to reach there as well. Yannie chugging away and sails down, we headed for our previous anchor point where we knew there were expansive sandy conditions. Over the howling winds Chris yelled “Drop the hook!” And Rocky was immediately on the job setting without the engine. For good measure we did back down on the anchor as we observed what the astonishingly strong winds did to Tao at anchor. Flying dust made it difficult to look into the wind, water was being blown off the wave tops, whirlpools of water were being sucked off the surface, and waves were already kicked up by the time they reached Tao only 350-yds off shore. And then suddenly, it would mellow to 20-knots, only to come raging back again clocked up to 40-knots with our anemometer. We let out nearly 7:1 all chain scope to handle the sudden extreme gusts which continued consistently late into the night. The NOAA forecast showed the next morning would be clear to move, but when we awoke, the gale warning that had finally been issued was extended and there were still lingering gusts. So we stayed put and used it as a recovery day even though the conditions appeared to be waning. Shawn cooked and rowed Chris into shore where he hitched a ride into town to grab a few more food items. Tired from several nights of poor sleep, we went down with the beautiful setting sun and slept for a solid 11-hrs.

Recovery setup below decks

We awoke early Tuesday the 13th, and were underway by 0900. Surrounding conditions were much improved and NOAA forecasts were still looking favorable (SW winds 10-15) for a Wednesday Alenuihaha Channel crossing. Slight breezes filled in and we slowly sailed toward La Perouse, our planned jump-off anchorage on the SW edge of Maui. It was a whale watching extravaganza. As far as we could see each direction, there were spouts, humped backs and whale tails diving. The whales were apparently on the move and it was magical. We made it across Maalaea Bay by 1300 where the winds disappeared. Drifting on the currents, we turned on Yannie to move the final few miles to La Perouse and checked the weather again. Not surprisingly, the forecast had changed. NOAA was obviously having difficulty forecasting with the unstable air masses aloft. The updated forecast predicted that conditions would hold through the day (now E 15-20) and then Wednesday deteriorate to solid 20-25-knots. We could see heavy storm clouds hanging over Haleakela promising rain, and feared that the window was closing for making comfortable safe passage across the Alenuihaha Channel.

Clouds menacing over Maui

Decision point, do we stay or do we go? We decided to conservatively poke our nose out into the edge of the channel where we figured the late afternoon winds would be at their maximum. If it was too much, we’d turn around and happily enjoy more time on Maui. As we left the protection of Maui around 1400, winds filled in solidly from the E at 15-knots with seas to 4-ft. Flying along under 80% jib alone, Shawn lobbied to turn back, pull into La Perouse and get the boat more prepared for the crossing, then leave before the sun set. Chris lobbied to continue on and prepare underway to make miles across the channel while the sun was shining. Together we decided to go for it. Chris bravely went on deck to set the jack lines and detatched the anchor in order to put the teak plug into our haus pipe. Feeling uncomfortable, without options to reduce sail, Shawn quickly talked Chris into a heads’l change. We dropped the jib and spent 20 uncomfortable, very wet minutes on the foredeck attaching the storms’l and removing the 80% as we floated side to the swell. Up went the storm jib, and we needed a little more area, so a triple-reefed mains’l quickly followed. We wanted to point toward the north end of the Big Island (120-deg magnetic), but instead, we settled for the southern point (150-deg magnetic) which was as high as we could point in semi-comfort. We were being set by a strong current and it was apparent that we were ferrying across a massive river of water squeezed between Maui and the Big Island. By 1530, the winds were gusting to 25-knots with seas building to 5-ft and an ominously cloudy sky. By 1700 we had lost some wind speed, and  by the time we saw the last rays of sun, seas had increased to an uncomfortable 8-ft. Five hours after entering the channel we were half way across when the winds and seas abruptly decreased and the clouds began to break, letting stars peek through. We raised the full main and sailed another half hour in less than 10-knots of wind and 4-ft seas when it finally became obvious that we weren’t really sailing, but drifting due south with the currents. Chris voiced the option of waiting for the wind and Shawn, still feeling exposed, barely half way across the channel, voted for the iron genoa.

Yannie to the rescue, again. It wasn’t until the winds reduced to nothing and then switched to the SE that we finally believed that, although still 20-nm out, we were once again in the lee of the Big Island. We both felt that we were being welcomed home into the safe embrace of the Big Island’s shadow. With the engine on we were able to motor sail another 6-hrs in mostly calm conditions with stars ablaze and phosphorescence in our wake. We watched on the AIS and subsequently searched for lights of not one but two cargo ships barreling down the Alenuihaha Channel at 14-knots of speed and one tug-towing-barge north of us leaving Kawaihae Harbor at 8-knots for points west where we had been shortly before. The quarter moon finally rose brightly but was quickly obscured by a squall that brought a half hour heavy downpour and complete freshwater rinse for Tao. As we approached our waypoint for Kiholo Bay we were greeted by the sweet scent of freshly rained upon land. Although we don’t like to come into anchorages at night, we were confident with our previous exploration and luckily dropped the anchor right into the large patch of sand just before 0200 early Wednesday the 14th.

Our eastward journey across the Alenuihaha Channel was 50-nm, 20-nm longer than our westward crossing much higher in the channel. If you add another 18-nm from Awalua Beach to the edge of Maui, we traveled 68-nm over 17-hrs. We are grateful to have made another safe passage across the deservedly infamous Alenuihaha Channel, and would not like to see it in conditions any stronger than those we saw. Although the weather window did stay open throughout the next day, it has since slammed shut and there are currently gale conditions (>35-knots with 17-ft seas) in the channel which are not forecast to let up until just before the New Year. In the safety of the Big Island leeward waters, we reveled in the land of black sand and red sunsets. We spent two gorgeous days at anchor in Kiholo Bay listening to whale blows and songs, watching huge manta rays swimming, sailing over reefs in Fatty and exploring ashore, all the while discussing our next options. When a space came open in Honokohau Harbor on the 16th, we quickly made our way there to secure moorage in safe harbor for the holidays during the dangerous Kona-wind season. As we motorsailed south along the coast, we watched whales and dolphins blow and dive. Once in the harbor, after topping our fuel and talking to the DLNR office, we were welcomed by Tim of Midnight Blue (who we last saw in Punta de Mita) on his new paddleboard as we made our way to our current home, slip J-28.

South Maui: Anchorages and Weather

With the mountainous lobes of Maui, Kaho'olawe, Lani, Molokini, and Molokai visible, views in every direction are each spectacular and distinct. We are surrounded by beautiful landscapes and ever-changing weather conditions as the light, clouds and winds change seemingly by the minute. Thus, it is no surprise that we have been closely observing the weather patterns since we arrived in Maui. Although the predominate winds are NE in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, the land masses we're near create their own weather systems and since here in Maui, we have yet to sail in NE conditions. Winds appear to “bend” along land forms and have come from every direction sometimes suddenly and without warning.

Ignore this paragraph unless you want specific descriptions of winds... At the SE anchorages, winds were from the E and N as the NE was quite blocked by Haleakela. Through "the saddle", the low-lying connection between Haleakela and Maui’s western and older volcano Mauna Kahalawai, the NE trade-winds are funneled and accelerate, creating strong N winds each afternoon down Ma’alaea Bay directly into Molokini. On the SE side of Ma’alaea Bay the cindercone Pu’u Ola’i creates decent wind protection at Big Beach, though the wind and swells that travel down the bay bend around the cindercone during the afternoon making it a bit rolly (note that it does mellow out over night for comfortable sleeping). Just W of Ma’alaea, shadowed by the West Maui Mountains, winds are completely different. For the most part, we experienced W winds until far enough around Maui’s W side where N winds resume in the Pailolo Channel as the NE trades bend around the north end of Maui... Regardless, we've found several safe, comfortable and beautiful anchorages along the south side of Maui and we are indeed glad to have brought the flopper stopper (roll stabilizer at anchor).

La Perouse. We spent 3 nights here watching amazing stars, Jupiter and sunrises and sunsets. La Perouse Bay has Haleakela to its E, is surrounded by lava to the N and S, and has stunning views of Kaho'olawe to the W. We enjoyed crashing waves on black and white lava and coral studded beach, a’a lava plus columnar jointing on the cliffs providing us shelter, a hike to the lighthouse and the King’s Trail with goats, sailing Fatty at its limit (really just too gusty for comfort), and joining spinner dolphins at the other end of the bay in Nature Preserve.

Big Beach. Just around the corner from La Perouse, Oneloa, more commonly known as “Big Beach”, is just that: a huge white sand beach with the foothills of Haleakela looming overhead with rainbows and clouds. We enjoyed views of Molokini and Kaho'olawe and Chris stumbled upon a clothing optional enclave at the N end of the beach. We spent a whole day here meeting Bay Area friends Marie and Laura who were on the island visiting family. They whisked us inshore and shared a little bit of an otherwise inaccessible-to-us inland trip to the beautiful Iao Valley as well as a stop at their condo for ice cold drinks, fruit and boiling hot freshwater showers and a delightful Indian lunch. It was very special to cross paths with them all the way out here in the middle of the Pacific Ocean.

Molokini. A remnant crater a mere 2-nm from Big Beach, this world class snorkel and dive site, is a Marine Preserve to 180-ft and the island itself a bird sanctuary where frigates abound. On our first attempt to get there we sailed out of La Perouse on slight early morning winds and finally engaged Yannie for the final approach. After slowly motoring around the deep south edge of the island, we found one of the state provided first-come-first-serve moorings on the E side of the crescent moon shaped bay just before 1100. Luckily we hopped in quickly because a mere hour later, the perfectly flat calm sunny and boat filled crater had been vacated by all the commercial charter boats and filled with swells that had rolled down from Ma’alaela Bay from winds blowing through the saddle in Maui. This made the previously placid area not only uncomfortable, but dangerous, so we quickly made haste out of the crater. No wonder all of the commercial boats had mysteriously disappeared around the time we got there… Not deterred, we just decided to make a focused motor boat trip of it for a second attempt as the winds just don't fill in early enough to sail there before the afternoon pick up. On the first of October, not having been able to talk Marie and Laura into joining us, we were underway toward Molokini by 0645, moored on the W side of the crater and in the water by 0800. For the next hour and a half we marveled at the colorful coral forests and swam with schools of unafraid black trigger fish and innumerable other species. The highlight of this morning was snorkeling over the steep drop off outside edge of the crater to see larger pelagic fish and even a large ray. An underwater camera might have captured what words can not. Although we felt like we could stay there forever, knowing the winds would soon fill in from the direction we hoped to go, we got underway again to the west side of Maui.

McGregor Landing. 9-nm due N of Molokini and just west of the windy lane of Ma’alaela Bay is a protected little cove called McGregor Landing. The steep rocky cliffs that surround this anchorage and the green-brown land jutting up toward the West Maui Mountains are beautiful despite the 2-lane highway atop the cliffs filled at all hours with vehicles hurtling by and huge white wind generators further up the slope. We spent a comfortable night here and sailed off late morning to work our way NW along the coast. A nice light breeze filled in from the W and we did one big pleasant tack to our planned anchorage, Olowalu, surrounded by well developed reef. The moment we got there, however, winds suddenly began to howl menacingly through the mountains from the N creating quite a wind chop in addition to the forecast building S swell. With so much reef and no one big sandy patch, we decided to continue on along the coast. Another mile NW and we finally dropped the hook at a roadstead anchorage dubbed Awalua Beach that gratefully was filled with a sandy bottom. After an hour of setting the primary and stern anchors (bow into the forecast S swell) as well as the flopper stopper, we sat back to watch the sun set, the swell build and enjoy a fresh baked pizza for our 10-year anniversary dinner (has a decade really already flown by?!).

Lahaina. Monday October 3, we sailed the last 4-nm to Lahaina. When we arrived, there was fortuitously space available in the small boat harbor (anchoring is not recommended due to only a shallow layer of sand over bedrock) so we decided to take advantage of its protection for the swell instead of the available moorings just outside the surf. With surfers swarming breaking waves to our port and starboard, we made our way in through the small channel seeing depths drop alarmingly to 6-ft and a shipwrecked sailboat just to port before we made it inside the breakwall. After a quick stop in the luckily vacant Lahaina-Maui ferry side-tie to check into the harbor office, we capitalized on the momentary slack winds and squeezed our way into the open space that somehow fits a powerboat larger than us. Once safely Med-tied (Tahiti-style) with our stern to the dock we watched how the continuous surge moved Tao and her sailboat neighbors and hung every fender we had. Since then, the S swell, one of the last of the summer seasons, has been breaking just outside the breakwall and has been loads of fun for Chris to surf. It is refreshing to find that here in Lahaina in the small boat harbor (as well as on the outer moorings and just north at Mala Wharf) there are several sailors. Though quite touristy, the main drag, Front Street, is close and most importantly, we can walk to Bikram Yoga Lahaina. We plan to spend a week here surging with the tidal changes in the harbor as the moon waxes toward full, enjoying the surf off our back porch and yoga just up the road, re-provision and then weather permitting, continue on up along Maui’s W coast.