A nerve-wracking crossing
Jacqueline Cope and her partner try to outrun a cyclone on passage from Tonga to New Zealand
Seven years ago I gave up my job as head of physics in a comprehensive school and joined my partner Don on his Nicholson 39ft ketch, Antares. Since then we have been drifting our way through the Mediterranean, across the Atlantic to the Caribbean, and down to the South Pacific, New Zealand, stopping en route to live on a small island in the Dodecanese in Greece for four years.
Our cruising life has taken us to remote islands in the Marquesas, French Polynesia, the Cook Islands, Tonga and Fiji, which are difficult to reach by public transport.
Many of these sparsely populated islands have no electricity, running water, shops or even money, and the inhabitants live by fishing and growing their own food.
Very few tourists visited so they were pleased to see us. We were able to help with mending outboard motors and in other ways. It was a great insight into their way of life, with many inhabitants endowed with great creative and artistic talent.
Our adventures have given us wonderful highs but some lows too. One particularly nerve-wracking passage springs to mind.
NEW ZEALAND CROSSING
After spending the season cruising the South Pacific islands, the time came for us to leave Tonga. It was November and the cyclone season was approaching.
Sailing south to the main island Tongatapu, we moored Antares stern to the quay in Nuku‘alofa harbour. There were many other cruising boats there, preparing for the 12-day crossing to New Zealand.
Frighteningly, we had heard on the radio that an early cyclone was approaching Tonga. Everyone was quiet. Had we left it too late for our departure?
After two days the authorities declared that this cyclone would pass by Tonga, but we worried that there would be another one.
We set sail, and initially, the wind came on the beam from the east. It wasn’t too strong, so we put out a full genoa and main sail.
Don was very quiet. We would have liked to have taken on crew but none were available. He knew it was a risk if one of us was taken ill. The boat was rolling about in the big swells and I was getting my sea legs.
Later, the 30 knots of wind was quite comfortable under reduced sail but the heavy rain leaked into the saloon cabin.
At that point we had 644 miles to go, heading 194° at 6.4 knots. The sails were reefed and the mizzen sail was raised.
Then the wind quietened but we were experiencing 3m swells due to the gales that were hitting our friends 50 hours further south of us.
We heard horrific tales of sails being blown out or ripped in 50-knot gusts. The swells we were experiencing were like desert dunes, with the boat rising and falling over them.