Sailing New Caledonia - The Great Check In Adventure

28th June 2017

Baie Maa - New Caledonia

The Great Check in Adventure

As participants on the Down Under Go East Rally, we had sailed from the Gold Coast and arrived in Noumea on a Sunday morning. Unfortunately, The immigration, Customs and Quarantine departments of New Caledonia do not work on a Sunday. That means we were not allowed to get off our boat or have visitors aboard.

Fortunately the organizer of the Down Under Go East Rally, John Hembrow, suggested that we call  the Port Moselle marina in Noumea, to advise them we wanted to check in. He would then contact the yacht agent, Noumea Yacht services and find out arrangements for the 15 or so boats that had arrived in Noumea.

Unfortunately, when I called Port Moselle Marina, they told us that we should not delay in coming to their office as the immigration department stops work at 11.00am. They told Neville from Bossa Noava the same. He had crew flying out, so we didn’t want to be stuck on the boats for another day. There was no mention of the rally all being checked in at the marina office or when that would happen. Also quite unfortunate was that we had been told we should take any trash or rubbish with us to Quarantine, as they would want to dispose of it properly.

Fortunately, Neville and I set off without further ado. We took all our crew passports and necessary paper work for each of our boats. We arrived at the marina office and fortunately the lady there spoke very good English. Fortunately she had obviously given instructions on where to find the three offices we needed to attend many, many times and also gave us a pretty good French map.

Unfortunately, it was quite a walk to the immigration office. All the signs and street names etc… are in French. Unfortunately together, Neville and I only know about five words of French. Unfortunately for Neville, the bag of rubbish he had to carry contained many empty wine bottles. Unfortunately for me I had 2 bags of rubbish. We got many strange looks as we marched up the man street of Noumea, one with a rattling bag of bottles, the other with two bulging bags, a back pack and trying to read a French map as we marched along.

Fortunately, by some considerable stroke of luck, we found the four-storey police station we had been told to look for and there, across the road was the doorway that lead to the immigration office. We hauled our trash and ourselves up the stairs to a small waiting room. Then a bit of a regroup while we got out all the forms we had with us.

Unfortunately, this is when I realised I didn’t have my reading glasses and Neville realised he didn’t have a pen.  We did get some curious looks as Neville and I kept exchanging forms, glasses and the pen backwards and forwards.

Fortunately, I heard an Australian talking in the next room and soon realised that you had to go into the next office to let them know you were here. This is where I handed in one form and had all the Easy Tiger’s crew’s passports stamped.

Unfortunately, the ladies in the immigration office know very little English. They did try to explain how to find the customs office to Neville, who shall we say could have better hearing. He said they told him to go to a yellow house. After walking in a circle with about a fifty metre radius we saw a yellow building with something like Agricultures on the sign. That had to be it I thought, but unfortunately the people in that office looked at us and our smelly bags of rubbish, as if we had just dropped in from Mars.

Fortunately, a young guy in the next room had enough English to explain that we were in the wrong place and we should go down the dual lane road. We did this and then found another yellow building with a very small sign on it that said what I thought was costumes but on entry found it was customs. While waiting at the counter, I managed to make eye contact with a guy sitting in the office out the back. He slightly nodded and raised an eyebrow so I crept towards his desk. He didn’t seem to mind so I explained, using all my five words of French, that we had come by bateau and we were looking for customs to check in. He motioned to a stack of forms on his desk, which fortunately Neville recognized as one the forms we had filled out back at immigration.

Unfortunately this is where a mild case of panic set in for me as I couldn’t find the form for Easy Tiger’s clearance out of Australia. Going through my stack of papers in a quick flurry still didn’t produce the right one. The guy at the desk was definitely not going to sign us off without it.  What is French for “Oh shit, I think I’ve lost the most important form?”. The fourth search through my well organized boat papers file revealed it tucked in behind something far less critical.

Fortunately as this was going on another Aussie yachter came into the office enquiring as to whether this was customs. We said yes and told him we would see him at Quarantine where ever that was. Fortunately; He said he had just come from there and gave us instructions on how to get there.

Unfortunately at Quarantine, they didn’t speak much English.  We waited for some French people in front of us who were asking if it was ok to bring a sprig of wattle in to New Caledonia. They were whisked off to another office by the muscle shirt wearing Freddie Mercury look alike who was working the counter.  When Freddie came back, I asked very politely whether he spoke English. With a “non” thrown over his shoulder he disappeared into the back offices of the building.

Fortunately it wasn’t long before the wattle people and a big dark skinned man in uniform came out. He took a look at us, took a whiff of our rapidly degrading rubbish and gestured us into the office he had just come from. Just as we were about to commence proceedings with him, a young lady came running down the corridor. She said some rapid fire French to the big guy, who we had just handed our garbage to. She looked at Neville and I and fired rapid French our way. Looking at her smile and blue eyes with the French accent… I missed everything she said. On her third repetition I picked up the words Rally, Mellanie and marina.

Unfortunately, putting two and two together, I worked out that she was saying because we are on the rally, we must meet Melanie at the marina so that she can inspect our boat. Damn. We had better hightail it back to the marina or miss our boat inspection. Almost as an afterthought I asked the nice lady if we could leave our rubbish there. She said “of course” but the big guy wasn’t too happy about it, especially when he heard the clunk of the wine bottles in Neville’s bag. That meant it wasn’t separated so he’d have to sort through it.

Fortunately we knew the way back to the marina and it was a lot easier walking without toting the smelly rubbish bags. Fortunately when we did arrive at the marina office, we saw the other rally participants standing in a line that went out the door and around the building. We asked what they were lining up for and they said to get checked in by immigration and Customs as arranged by the rally organisers!

Unfortunately We had walked about 5 kilometres, carrying stinking rubbish, struggling to make ourselves understood to carry out our check in to New Caledonia, when we could have got it all done right here!  But as Neville and I said to each other, it wouldn’t have been half the adventure.

(sorry, there are not enough bars where we are...not those bars! internet bars. Having trouble loading photos...more to come)

Sailing New Caledonia -Follow that boat!

30th May 2017

Noumea -  New Caledonia

Follow that Boat.

Australia seems so far from anywhere, when you look at the map. I guess that’s why it seems such a great feat to think that we would sail to a completely different country.  It is only 800 or so nautical miles. I suppose it’s no problem or hardly a challenge for Europeans, but for us it was quite daunting.

The fact that we were included in a “rally” of sailing boats and lead by a fella that has done it eight or nine times before made it a lot less daunting, but I still didn’t sleep all that well the night before we departed.

Were we ready? What had we forgotten? What could go wrong? How would we physically stand up to the task? All these and many more questions raced around in my head, most of the night. All the suggestion, discussion, debating, decision making, planning, organizing, financing, provisioning, learning, talking, shouting, frustration, effort and time that had gone into joining the down under go east rally had had finally come to this point, where we lift the anchor, hoist the sails and leave through the Gold Coast Seaway for the destination of Noumea, New Caledonia.

All too soon, dawn broke and activity aboard Easy Tiger began. The five of us aboard milled about getting breakfast. At 6.15am I did a final tour of the boat with Ian and Sue, explaining where things like fire extinguishers were located, and which rope did what. I had prepared a list of things we expected to be done while on watch and went through the log book that we would keep for the journey, once more.

6.30am came around in the blink of an eye. Anchors up, ready to assemble at the Seaway for an all in 7.00am departure. Many others came past us with their sails hoisted but we decided against hoisting our sails until we were out in the ocean. As we rounded the headland and straightened up, we were alongside our sailing family Eva and Brian on Zofia. Instant flashbacks to 3and a half years ago when at 4.00am we departed Busselton WA next to each other, bound for what we thought then was a round Australia circumnavigation. Here we are now together departing on an international sailing adventure.

Right on the knock of 7.o’clock am, the Gold Coast Seaway spewed forth 18 or so boats. Easy Tiger was in about the first half dozen ejected from the between the rock walls, spat out of the safety and quiet of the Broadwater, and dissolved into the Pacific Ocean.

Although it was a very well organized and planned rally, it seemed that of the 18 or so boats, there were 18 or so courses taken. Leanne was watching on AIS and Marine traffic and was marveling at the spread of boats to all eastern directions on the compass. We seemed to be in the middle again, heading due East. Some said this was a good strategy. Me, I was just following closely, the guy who had been there 9 times before.

By mid afternoon on that first day, the rally had pretty much spread-eagled. We had lost site of most, save for half a dozen immediately around us. It seemed even at that early stage that waiting for the right weather had proved a master-stroke. We had a pretty flat sea except for a small rolling swell and just enough wind to make it worthwhile putting the sails up, while still having to keep 1 motor going. This was fortunate, as Easy Tiger, Leanne and I hadn’t sailed in the actual ocean for nearly two years.

On the first evening, a side on swell had developed as we approached the first lot of ocean table mounts. These are underwater mountains where the sea depth changes rapidly from around 4000metres deep to say 500metres deep. Doesn’t sound much, but the change in depth causes currents that combine with wind and conditions to have Easy Tiger doing a kind of bumpy gallop rather than a smooth canter. The result of which saw all on board except Luke, produce burley and feed the fish. Sue was the first to succumb, followed by Ian. On dusk Leanne faded after trying to prepare curry for dinner, I was unable to complete my shift after throwing the curry overboard so to speak.

Thankfully, early morning day 2, saw us feeling quite a bit better. We had maintained contact with four other boats, which was comforting. Bossa Nova were one of these, with Neville’s dulcet tones providing encouragement over the radio. Ian says Neville sounds so good on the two-way he should work for the ABC! We had contact with the rally organizer on the vhf radio as well. Once we were well clear of the table mounts the sea flattened out. The wind came and went during the day, which meant more motoring.

By the afternoon of Day 2 we had settled in to our 3hour rotation on the helm. Sue, even if she was still a little queasy, took to the helming and “on watch” tasks with aplomb. Luke showed his skills and proficiency by plotting our position on the paper charts and getting weather updates via satellite email from Metbob. Metbob’s weather reports were compared with the Predict Wind Offshore app that I downloaded each day and from that we formed a plan for our route. That plan normally concluded with “follow the guy who’s been there 9 times before.

At nightfall of Day 2 we had a weather forecast that said the winds could get upwards of 20knots. We decided to reef in the sails for the night. This means that we decrease the sail area to reduce the stress and strain on the rigging. Unfortunately this also means that the boat slows down, which meant that we lost contact with the other boats.

Our third day at sea, the 25^th of May, was my birthday. For me it started early as I completed my shift from 3 to 6 am. My son Luke wrote a nice message in the log book. It was just so nice to have him crewing on the boat. As I sat at the helm as dawn broke I reflected on my good fortune. To have a wonderful life partner who has supported my crazy ideas (such as buying a catamaran and sailing around Australia), my two children who continually amaze me and my great fortune to have been born in the wonderful country that is Australia.

By midday on the 3^rd day there was plenty of crazy stuff going on, onboard Easy Tiger. There was a bit of a competition to see who had the craziest music on their play list and even crazier dancing and wobbling about as those crazy tunes were blaring. Lot’s of nice birthday wishes came over the satellite communications. It was also nice to no that the crew onboard San Souci had scones with jam and cream in my honour.

At night fall on the third day, there was a beautiful sunset. We had been maintaining a due East course until we received word from Metbob that we could alter course and start easing our way North. That was a nicer feeling to be actually aiming at our destination. That night we were treated to a lightning show on our southern horizon, that went for most of the night.

Friday, the 4^th day at sea, we ran out of wind and fired up another motor. On my dawn shift I started to ponder many of life’s burning questions, like why are there so many there’s. Could we think of a better word for their, they’re or there. Another of those questions was “if they call them apartments, why are they all built together?”I think maybe I was getting a bit bored or maybe conditions were that nice for sailing along, that I had time to think a bit too much.

Friday was probably the crew’s flattest day too. We did break out a few conversation type games and then resorted to the crossword and Sudoku puzzles in the Brisbane newspaper we had brought with us for an unknown reason.

Saturday the fifth day also came and went slowly by, but the knowledge that we should arrive the next morning kept spirits pretty high. Predict Wind, Metbob and the guy who had been there nine times before, all showed a direct route to Amedee lighthouse that is only a handful of miles from Noumea. The wind was constant in direction but ranging from 5 to 15 knots. It kept teasing us to put up our screecher and when we did it would disappear, to have us pack the sail away again.

The sixth day, Sunday, Everyone was up and about a bit earlier than usual. There was a real buzz from the feeling of relief that today we would arrive. We made the way point to turn into the pass between two reefs at exactly high tide, 9.30am. We arrived with another rally participant, the lovely ketch Suena Azul. Luke got out his drone and after a really hairy take off was able to get some great pictures of us sailing past the Amedee lighthouse which marks the entry into the New Caledonia Lagoon, which is the second biggest barrier reef system in the world.

At 11.30am we dropped our anchor in the Bay de Oliphant right next to the guy who has been here 9 times before, the organizer of the Down Under Go East Rally, John Hembrow. Their crew aboard Songlines were on board to wave, cheer and clap, as were Bossa Nova, Skellum and the Albatross.

At midday the champers and beers were all cracked and the arrival celebration commenced. What a terrific experience we all had shared, what a relief that we made it safely, in good weather and had no trials or tribulations to report. How nice it was to be anchored in calm water and to watch the rest of the rally boats arrive one by one. 

So now if you ask me, what was the best part about sailing to New Caledonia from the Gold Coast of Australia? I would answer without any hesitation…arriving.

Happy Scenes on ET's arrival at Noumea, Capital of New Caledonia

Sailing New Caledonia - T Minus

20th May 2017

Gold Coast, Queensland Australia.

T Minus

When I was a youngster I used to enjoy watching rockets loaded with astronauts blast off into space. Actually, the thing I really liked was the anticipation of the countdown. Part of that countdown was the term T minus. I think this was a technical term for announcing the time left before takeoff .

Last week we had our own version of the countdown to take off. The Down Under Go East Rally organisers and the weather routing services had found a suitable weather window, and announced this via email on Friday the 19^th May. So I guess that we could have said that that was the start of our T minus procedures.

The call came and at T minus 100 hours into overdrive and straight into the Hope Harbour marina we went to tie up and get all the last minute bits and pieces done.

Our countdown went like this;

T minus 100 hours. Marina sorted, motored to and tied in to the pen, ablution keys in hand, headed for the one machine laundry along with four other crews, for last minute washing, girls headed for the shops for last minute fruit and veg supplies.

T Minus 97 hours – Empty Jerry cans gathered on the jetty, ready to be taken down to the service station. Repacked “stuff” (again) unpacked “stuff” to find wet weather gear.

T Minus 72 hours -  Took our 8 and Bossa Nova’s 6 Jerry cans to Service Station and filled them all. Took them back to the boat and readied to top up boat tank,

normally a simple task. After the little bit of motoring around the Gold Coast, I thought it should take about 5 or 6 litres in each tank to top them up. I poured 22 litres out of the jerry can into the port tank. Then began to worry when I still didn’t hear the gurgling sound it makes when nearly full.  Where the hell was all this fuel going?

I rushed down stairs to inspect the tank. Didn’t have to wonder too long. As soon as my foot hit the carpet on the port side I heard the squelch and felt the greasy fuel under my foot. Undoing the inspection cover I found the reason that I had just poured 22 litres of nice fresh smelly diesel onto the floor and into the cupboards. The hose that is supposed to connect to the outside filler port to the inside floor tank was no longer connected to the top of the diesel tank!

T minus 71 hours until T minus 65 hours = spent cleaning and soaking up diesel from behind and underneath the cupboards, pumping the bilge full of diesel into unused jerry cans and washing all the surrounds with hot soapy water. The procedure was wipe up diesel dispose of rag, scrub with hot soapy water and dry off, then repeat as the diesel seeped out from the hidden places we couldn’t get to. What a job!

 “T” minus 60 hours, I began noticing black soot like pieces of things swimming around in my right eye. Like all little weird things that go on in my body I thought it would just go away. Back to service station, refilled used Jerry cans and this time poured into boat tanks, not floor, so all full of diesel. Job completed a day behind schedule.  Then I started noticing brief flashes of light in the right corner of my eye. Now that had my attention.  I googled what it was all about and was a little horrified by what I read. Still I thought it would go away. That night we went out for a crew night to the AFL football (our crew are Adelaide Crows Supporters who were playing the Brisbane Lions). While at the football I kept noticing these swimmers were still there wandering around my right eyeball. Still I thought nothing of it.

T Minus 48 hours  A day behind on our list of things to do thanks to the fuel debacle. We hoisted our main sail to check that it would go up ok. We would look a bit silly if we departed with 16 other boats and could hoist our sail. Also we repacked and sorted “stuff”.

That night most of the rally participants went for dinner at a nearby Thai restaurant. We took Neville and Amanda from Bossa Nova. On the way we began discussing what was happening in my eye. Neville had a friend who had been through a similar scenario, and rang him while we were in the car. He said that he had a similar occurrence and it was because his retina had started detaching from his eyeball. Now that got my attention and I was now in really concerned mode.

The evening was a fun night but I must say that it dragged on because all I wanted to do was get back to ET, find a doctor and sort out my eye problem. I  would have to get it sorted by 9.00am the next morning, as that was when we were due to be processed by customs for clearance out of the country. Finally, we got home about 11.0pm. I was straight on the phone to 1300Health in Queensland which is an over the phone service. After answering a dozen questions from the phone doctor she put me on hold for a minute. She came back on the line and said her prognosis was that I should attend an emergency hospital within 1 to 4 hours!

T Minus 30hours, Its’ now only 30 hours to when we are supposed to be departing the country and sailing to a foreign country and I am sitting in the emergency department of the University Hospital. I was feeling pretty low at this point believing that there was a strong possibility that we would not be departing as planned. All the suggestion, discussion, debating, decision making, planning, organizing, financing, provisioning, learning, talking, shouting, frustration, effort and time that had gone into joining the down under go east rally had been foiled by these annoying black spots in front of my right eye.

As quick as they could, the doctor came and set up the machinery and technology to look into my eyes. After about half an hour of the lady doctor getting very up close and personal, she said that in her opinion it was not a retina detachment. Good News. Not so good news was that she recommended I go to an Opthamology specialist to double check the cause of entertainment I was getting in my right eye.

T minus 24 hours, I wonder where you could find an opthamology specialist who could fit you in for an appointment at 7.30am on a Monday? It appears that not on the Gold Coast, but that was what would be required if I was to be checked out of the country by Border Force and customs at  9.30am with the rally. In the end, I had to dodge the possibility of ending up in a detention center, by going to my appointment at 3.30pm, well after I was supposedly checked out of the country! I still had plenty of reservations around whether Easy Tiger would be leaving with the rally. Luckily, the opthamologist at Sanctuary Cove had a vacancy, as all the locals there were out of town while the annual boat show was held. He was positive that it was not retina damage and was relieved when I told him we were travelling to Noumea, as he said there would be suitably equipped eye doctors there, should I have ongoing problems.

T Minus 15 Hours To say that my crew, particularly my first mate, was relieved that I had a medical clearance, at T minus 15hours, would be an understatement. We celebrated by throwing the ropes and motoring out of the marina to spend the night at Bum’s bay, ready for departure with the Down Under Go East Rally at 0700hrs the next day.