One Girl One Dream

by Dekker, Laura

  The public holiday that had begun when I arrived is over today, and everything is open again, so it’s time to look for diesel and do some shopping. I also need to complete the clearance procedure. I have to do the ‘health’ bit and send a form to Fiji. When I get to the health centre, I realise that I’ve left my ship’s papers on board and have to go all the way back. Returning to the health centre, I need to pay 100 Tongan dollars, which, of course, I don’t have on me. So off to find an ATM to draw some money to purchase another piece of paper with all those important-looking stamps . . .

  As I’m walking back to Guppy, my shopping bags tear and I struggle to get the contents on board intact. But that’s not the last of my less successful activities. . . There’s another important thing I left aboard Guppy, and I spend a good bit of time furiously looking for the ignition key for the outboard motor. All in all, it’s been a testing day, but by nightfall all the cupboards are stocked, my clothes washed and everything has been securely fastened so that Guppy and I can set off tomorrow.

  Tonga–Fiji: 470 nautical miles

  DAY 1: 14 July

  I didn’t succeed in getting my clearance papers from Customs yesterday, so I need to go back there this morning. I treat myself to a good breakfast at the outdoor restaurant with the view of the bay and check the latest emails. Icom America has offered to sponsor a new SSB radio and send it directly to Fiji! I’m so happy about that and it gives me even more reason to set sail immediately.

  After five days in the beautiful bay of Vava’u, Gup and I are off again. It was a fairytale experience to lie in amongst this group of small green islands. I would have loved to stay longer, but I need to continue my world voyage as the seasons won’t wait for me. So it’s time to head for Fiji which lies about four days’ travel from here.

  Behind me, Tonga shrinks as we sail away, and I see Sogno d’Oro’s little brown sail moving from side to side. Henk and I leave at the same time, but Guppy is much faster. As the SSB is out of order, I no longer have any contact with the outside world. But this does have its advantages, as I pick up my rhythm quickly and enjoy the peace and space around me even more.

  The crossing to Fiji shouldn’t present any problems. Somewhere midway there are a couple of reefs and islands, but the weather conditions are fair with lots of sun and enough wind. I’m really curious about Fiji. I spent a month there with my parents’ boat when I was just one year old. I still have a number of photographs from that time. There’s one of my dad with me in a baby carrier on a horse trek in the mountains. In another photograph, I’m floating in a dinghy. My parents tell me I was able to swim before I could walk; insofar as you can call doggie-paddle swimming, of course. I don’t remember a thing, but I think it’s going to be special to see these places with my own eyes.

  The wind is cooperating fairly well, but, alas, starts to ease and then comes from behind. This makes Guppy roll terribly, making life difficult on board. Sogno d’Oro had disappeared from sight within a few hours yesterday, and now Henk is also out of VHF reach. I’m cut off from contact with other sailors and peace has returned, so now I have time to read and write. By day’s end, Fiji is 340 miles ahead of me, but there are numerous atolls and reefs on my path which means hours of being on the lookout and little sleep tomorrow . . .

  DAY 2: 15 July

  I’m still waking up tired in the morning, but can’t work out why as I’ve slept fairly well. The sun is glowing like a copper plate above the horizon and it heats up quickly. There’s little wind, and Gup and I have to exert ourselves for every mile gained, but I’m having fun doing stuff like breaking open and eating the coconuts that I’ve brought from Tonga, reading and pruning my banana bunch.

  Towards afternoon, the speed drops drastically and the sails begin to flap. Dismayed, I switch on Mr Yanmar to spare the sails. Luckily, I’ve learnt to relax and not get annoyed anymore when we motor or are becalmed. There’s little you can do about it, and it’s always better to work along with nature than to fight it. It’s getting dark. Suddenly I see something in the distance . . . Ripples? The ripples become little waves, and before I know it there’s a good 15-knot wind blowing. The sails are set, and with a good beam wind Guppy is soon making for the atolls at a speed of 6.5 knots.

  DAY 3: 16 July

  To my great amazement, I see a hill rising out of the water in the distance, at the very spot where I expected to see an atoll. I rush to the chart and discover that I couldn’t have studied the obstacles on the chart all that well yesterday. But it doesn’t really matter if it’s a hill or an atoll: both are in our path and are merciless for any boat that ventures near them. I just need to avoid an island, a reef and various fishing boats, and I can make straight for Fiji. In the meantime, I pass the 180-degree line of longitude, and Guppy and I once again find ourselves in the Eastern Hemisphere.

  Unfortunately, the wind is dropping and Guppy is now running at only 4.5 knots, which means that I’ll be arriving in the dark. Fortunately it’s full moon and, according to the chart, there are leading lights to guide us between the reefs. Even in daylight you usually only see reefs when it’s too late. So Gup and I have decided to take a chance.

  DAY 4: 17 July

  With the city lights shining brightly, it takes a lot of effort to distinguish the leading lights that guide you through the channel in the reef to Suva. When I finally discover them, they are actually blue and very weak. It then starts to rain and they are hardly visible anymore. They’re just bright enough to guide Guppy safely through the reefs. The bay is full of moorings, with a number of unlit anchored ships. Guppy sails very slowly and I have to constantly walk to the foredeck to check with my search light so as not to bump into something. She manages to glide past all the obstacles without any damage and now lies peacefully at anchor. I’m now going to spend the rest of the night sleeping blissfully without interruptions.

  Suva

  I take a look at Suva when I wake up the next morning. It looks like a sizeable city. It’s cloudy and the bay is full of big cargo ships. I may as well inflate my dinghy and start the obligatory clearance procedure. It’s apparently not that easy on Fiji, so I’ll probably be busy for a couple of hours.

  While I’m inflating the dinghy, I’m told by the neighbouring yachts that I’m not allowed to go ashore before Immigration and Customs officials have come to me. OK, then I’ll just wait . . . The Customs launch eventually arrives in the afternoon with a mountain of paperwork, but they’re very friendly and wait patiently while I fill in the unbelievable heap of forms before they apply all the fat stamps.

  By the time we’ve finished in the late afternoon, I see Sogno d’Oro come puffing in. The Customs officials don’t want to clear him in at this stage, which means that I’m not officially allowed to board, but I’d promised Henk some pancakes on his arrival and bring him some anyway. I know what a treat it is when you’ve made a crossing and don’t have to cook for yourself.

  The next morning I meet a local boy at the yacht club and we visit Suva together, go to the cinema and drive around the city in a bus. Fiji is great, but it’s really busy with all the people and traffic and I have to get used to it. They also drive on the left, which means I really need to keep my wits about me when I cross the road.

  A bus ride here is quite an experience. Music blasts forth from enormous speakers and there’s no suspension to speak of. I almost hit the roof several times! It’s really something; especially if you’re used to a speed of 5 knots. So different, but also fun to have the luxury of cinemas, shops, buses and even a McDonald’s. It will only be a short stop, because Gup and I will be on our way as soon my vane is pointing in the right direction.

  When I look at the photographs taken by my adventurous parents, I notice that there are more of them taken on Fiji than I thought. While I am looking through them, I stumble on one of my mother with lovely long hair at the fruit market in Suva with me in the pram. I decide to see if the fruit market still exists. When I get there, I discover the sta
ll that is featured in the photograph. Not only that, the whole place still looks exactly the same! Of course, I don’t recall a thing, but it’s strange to be back at the exact same spot 14 years later.

  I increasingly feel like making a detour to visit my birthplace, Whangarei in New Zealand, but really don’t have the time now. It will definitely be on my route on my next voyage around the world. And that counts for lots of other beautiful places that I visited too briefly or not at all.

  Icom America has sent my new SSB radio directly to Fiji and I’ve just received a message from the yacht club that I can pick it up at Customs at the airport. It got there two days later than expected, but it’s arrived! Henk offers to help me install the complex radio. After a good day’s work, I’m able to email again and talk to people all over the world. It works like a bomb, and callers in Tonga even ask me to turn it down a little because I’m coming over too loudly. Awesome! A well-functioning SSB at last.

  There’s a beautiful old square-rigged three-master, the Alvei, which is anchored next to me. I’m soon on friendly terms with the crew, and they invite me to sail with them for a few days on this special ship. They’re on their way to the north of Fiji. The north end of the island is supposed to be lovely and, because I don’t have enough time to go there with Guppy, I don’t say no, of course. I ask Henk to keep an eye on Guppy for a few days and secure her with some extra anchor chain. I spend the rest of the day swimming and doing chores on Guppy. Henk and I go to McDonald’s for a hamburger in the afternoon; the first one since Tahiti. I then board the Alvei as they leave early the next morning.

  I wake up in the middle of the night and wonder where on earth I am. At 05.00 I’m shaken awake by the firing-up of the mega-big two-cylinder Sabb motor. After half an hour’s hard work weighing anchor, we sail out of the bay. It’s my second time on a square-rigged ship, but what a world of difference! The crew is much less experienced than the one on Stad Amsterdam, and of course it’s much smaller, too; but they have much more fun, even though all the equipment is incredibly old-fashioned and the ship is a great deal smaller. We set two sails, but roll them up again almost immediately as the wind drops and turns against us. After cruising on the old Sabb the whole day — a sound you can listen to all day — we arrive at Baque, an island that lies a few miles north of the main island of Fiji. The crew is very relaxed and I’m getting used to life on board here fast. The sea is beautifully clear, and we snorkel around a small reef.

  After two days I’m supposed to be taken to the main island, which is 10 miles from here, by a local boat, as the Alvei is not going back to Suva. But this boat is not running and I’m literally stranded on an almost uninhabited island until someone decides to sail to the main island. The island is beautiful and, together with three of the crew, we decide to find a waterfall. With some help from the locals we meet along the way, we finally find an awesome waterfall high in the mountains. We were advised not to follow the river back down, but do so anyway. We soon discover why: the river runs through cliffs and various caves. There are some more waterfalls along the way, which we clamber down over slippery rocks. We get back to the village by nightfall, totally drenched, muddy and tired, but an experience richer.

  While we are on the beach trying to crack open a coconut, I see a small fishing boat being loaded a little further up. I run to meet it and ask if they intend sailing to the main island.

  ‘Absolutely, and there’s a place for you if you’d like to come along,’ I’m assured.

  I say goodbye to everyone, grab my belongings and jump on board the small wooden boat. It takes more than three hours to cover the 13-mile crossing, and we moor off a fishing village. The locals tell me that the bus stop for Suva is on the other side of the village. After an hour’s ride with the usual blaring music, I reach Suva where Guppy lies peacefully at anchor. It’s wonderful to be back in my familiar surroundings after being absent for a while.

  I check the weather forecast via the SSB and see that it’s looking good for the next five days, and so I decide to get Guppy ready for departure. The next morning Henk is standing at the railing at 06.00. He’s also looked at the weather and seen that the next five days are perfect. A lot of wind on the quarter and then it will drop . . . The trip to Vanuatu could be done in five days. I want to leave immediately and that means getting to work. I gobble down a sandwich, collect my documents and am on my way to Customs. There’s a strong wind and I’m soaked by the spray and drizzle even before I get to shore in my dinghy. Once I get to Customs, the female official appears to have gone out, so I spend an hour checking the latest updates in an internet café. When she gets back, I try to fill in the forms as quickly as possible, but it still takes me two hours and many stamps before I’m finally done.

  I’m yearning to leave, and almost run back to Guppy. I’m longing for the open ocean, the wind and the sea air . . . I want to sail again! But the cockpit looks like it’s exploded with all the clothes, tools, spare parts, jerry cans and other things that are lying around. What the hell, that’s what I’ve got the aft cabin for . . . and I add it to the mountain of stuff that will be securely wedged in there for the passage. I then heave up the anchor as quickly as possible and turn Guppy’s nose towards the open sea.

  Suva–Vanuatu: 600 nautical miles

  DAY 1: 27 July

  Once I’m on the open sea, the water is nice and rough and Guppy is asking for a reef in the mainsail. The waves are washing over the deck, and a fishing boat which left at the same time as I did turns back to the safety of the harbour. But Guppy is in the mood for more and thunders on regardless; more under than above water. She is sailing high into the wind and straight into the oncoming waves to round an offshore island. I’m soaked to the bone and everything is wet and salty again, but anything is better than no wind! Passing the island, I can ease the sheets and sail on a beam reach. The wind is now on the quarter, but there is no way I can sit and read outside. Guppy is blasting through the confused seas with gusto. I’ve had some tiring days and want to catch up on some sleep. I fall asleep almost immediately to the wonderful sound of water rushing past the hull while the radar keeps watch.

  It’s been a long time since I’ve had this much wind during a crossing and Guppy is going fast. With a bit of luck we should arrive during the daytime. That will be a pleasant change from my night-time arrivals in Fiji and Tonga. Not that I need to sail around all sorts of reefs this time, but still. It’s also nice to be able to see something of your surroundings as you’re approaching, and have the time to enjoy your destination as soon as you’ve cleared Customs.

  This morning I’m sitting outside and enjoying the sunrise for the first time since my departure. The problem with so much wind is that the waves like to jump over Guppy. She’s performing well and bravely climbs up and down the waves, but it makes reading or writing impossible. Eating is not much fun for my stomach and I don’t manage more than a few carrots. But I can sleep well, and somehow it’s always fun to look at the churning waves. At 16.00 Henk, who has also left and appears to be 30 miles behind me, calls me. Towards evening a cargo ship comes into sight. I call the ship to ensure that it has seen me. He answers me politely and confirms that he has.

  DAY 2: 28 July

  I’ve been at sea for two days now and am about 300 miles from Vanuatu. Once again we’re running downwind and the wind has dropped considerably. The result is that Guppy is rolling a lot on the huge swell, with everything that isn’t securely fastened landing on the floor. It’s not too bad, except that my bowl of cornflakes has joined the rest on the floor and coated everything. Grrr! Let me try a sandwich. I swap the jib for the boomed-out genoa and am happy that the hatches can stay open again. It’s good to feel the sun and enjoy the fresh air. I eat my sandwich and continue reading The Long Way by Bernhard Moitessier. He took part in a non-stop sailing race, and then, when he’d gone all the way around, decided not to finish but to continue to Tahiti instead. The book was given to me by someone who thought I might d
o something similar.

  In the afternoon, I shake out the reef from the mainsail. Let’s hope the wind doesn’t drop any more or I’m likely to arrive in the dark again. It’s another 270 miles, which will take me two days, I think. Besides the cargo ship last night, all I see is the infinite, undulating, blue landscape. I haven’t seen any fish or dolphins since my big crossing. I’ve now definitely passed New Zealand. A pity and it hurts a little to be sailing past my country of birth at a distance of 1200 miles, but I’ve promised Guppy that we will definitely be going there together sometime. The sun disappears behind the clouds and the wind freshens, making Guppy go up to a lovely speed of 6 knots by evening.

  DAY 3: 29 July

  I have a wonderful night’s rest without waking up once; not even when the Echomax alarm that picks up ships at a distance of more than 40 miles goes off. I only need to get up three times to adjust the course, because the wind has veered to the quarter. The breeze prevails, but, unfortunately, the sun disappears behind the clouds. Rainy, grey, sad clouds which produce a few teasing drops but not enough nice freshwater. After an hour’s sleep, I chat to Henk who’s 96 miles behind me. I’m still having a little trouble with the SSB because it’s a newer model, and from time to time I’m unable to find the right frequencies. When I do manage to find them, I haven’t a clue how I did it . . . I listen to an SSB channel without really knowing what they’re talking about for a while, but it’s nice just to listen to people chatting thousands of miles away.

  Guppy still has 120 miles to go before she reaches Port Vila, and there’s a good chance that I’ll make it by daylight. The only problem then is that I’ll arrive at the weekend when it’s difficult to clear in without having to pay extra. I’ll probably have to wait until Monday to go ashore. Guppy and I have a good relationship, so we’ll be alright.