Once we cleared the main island of Tongatapu, we bore off on a slowly curving track that would put us more and more downwind with time. The wind then backed, which was not in any of the forecasts, and then died down a lot. We spent nearly the next twenty-four hours just trying to keep the boat moving while being pointed in roughly the right direction.
An overcast passage to South Minerva Reef
When the wind finally did start to move forward and strengthen, we were relieved to be finally able to clock up some real miles before the waves could build to a height that would be uncomfortable.
That didn't really happen. Over the course of about twenty minutes in the middle of the night, our light headwind stopped completely and was then subsequently replaced by moderate tailwinds. The new seas overwhelmed the first batch and after about an hour of confused chop, a gentle, following swell rolled us towards Minerva.
Our slow day had really messed with our ETA. Normally on passages, even ideally, I like to arrive early enough that we have to slow down at the end to wait for daylight. This time, with our spinnaker pulling us faster than predicted, we were right on track for an eight o'clock arrival by sailing just as we were. By the time we rounded the atoll and entered the pass, the sun was just high enough for us to be able to sight our way in past the widely-spaced bommies. We dropped anchor just a hundred meters or so from the spot we used our first time here in 2018.
South Minerva Reef is clearly visible from satellite imagry, not so much as you approach by boat (just a few bits of coral are above the water at low tide)
In many ways, Minerva Reef is a lot like Beveridge Reef. It's a lagoon surrounded with coral and with sand in the middle, they can both be a bit choppy at high water and pretty smooth at low water. Minerva is, of course, divided into North Minerva and South Minerva, which are separated by about twenty nautical miles of deep ocean. In this particular instance, we were in South Minerva. South Minerva Reef is only about a quarter of the size of Beveridge Reef and forms a figure-eight shape, only one lobe of which is accessible for anchoring (although some brave souls have been kown to squeeze into the other lobe in perfect conditions). Because of this, there is lots and lots of interesting coral to see, particularly in the middle belt of the figure eight. Also, South Minerva is twenty miles closer to New Zealand. In theory at least, that should fractionally reduce one's chances of encountering unpredicted severe weather on the passage between the two.
South Minerva also has a narrower, shallower, and less well-charted entrance through its pass than North Minerva. Because of this, most boats opt for the "easy" stop at North Minerva en route. I'm sure this won't be the case for much longer as more and more boats have drones and high-speed internet with which they can email pictures of their successful inbound track to their friends behind them, but for now, South Minerva offers the best chance of solitude by far. Sharing a remote spot in the ocean that is two hundred miles from land with a hundred other people makes it feel less like the rare gem that it is than an anchorage outside of Fort Lauderdale. I realize many of the others that come may never have that experience because the whole way there, they were in constant contact with the whole rest of the group via text and social media, so they never got the feeling of being far from anywhere or anyone. I, however, have come to enjoy the solitude of being the only boat in sight, or the only boat I have seen for days. We can get plenty of time with the crowds in the big city anchorages when we land. For now, I like that way out in the ocean still feels like way out in the ocean.
Still, we were surprised when we closed on South Minerva reef that we could see no mast tops breaking the horizon. Eventually, the only candidate turned out to be the tower for the current navigation beacon. On our once-a-day email download, Maryanne got a message from another boater that there were already more than a dozen boats in North Minerva, with lots more on the way. It was hard to believe no one opted for the South Minerva overflow lot to ease the pressure.
Snorkelling the nearby reef is our main entertainment
It wasn't until our fourth day in South Minerva, while we were out snorkeling the inside of the reef to the northeast of Begonia, that we finally spotted a triangle of sail approaching from the north. We expected more to follow, since banana boats usually travel in bunches. By the time it was close enough to sunset for us to be assured that no one else was coming today, it was just Begonia and the new boat, Goose, anchored about half a mile south of us. Goose told us that when they left North Minerva for a change of venue, they had left behind thirty-two others.
Over the next three days, two more boats arrived and anchored widely apart. I'm so surprised they were the only ones. We entertained ourselves by thinking up jobs for our upcoming haulout. This is less like shopping for fun, new furniture than signing up for Boot Camp.
When we couldn't take it anymore, we would take a break to go snorkeling. The water temperature in South Minerva is colder than it was back in Tonga. We noticed that there is a definite time limit before, even with wetsuits, we get too cold to be able to enjoy any scenery. Usually, we get to that point while still at the reef. Swimming hard in a beeline across the flats to Begonia helps to decrease the rate of heat loss, but by the time we finally climb out, we are usually both shivering pretty energetically.
For our last day at this part of the reef, we decided to do another last, last big clean of the bottom before setting off for the fun part. Afterwards, I had just made it to the reef and only been sightseeing for a few minutes before I had to give up and head back. Maryanne toughed it out another hour before she returned. I was just getting ready to put the kettle on for her when she informed me that she wanted to do another whole series of photos in case she needs to prove to New Zealand biosecurity that Begonia was even cleaner than it was when we left Tonga. The list of what they want to see is extensive. By the time Maryanne finally left the water, she had been in for over another hour and was REALLY cold now. Fortunately, it was objectively hot outside, so a fifteen-minute rest on the settee was all she needed to feel back to normal.
We had a spell of calmer weather over the next few days as we waited for the next weather window to New Zealand to open in earnest. We took the opportunity to anchor in a less protected spot by the pass, right by the middle of the 8 connecting the two lagoons. The snorkeling is really good there, with lots of deep holes, steep, but narrow chasms, and plenty of interesting sea life. There are even a few shallow, warmer spots that allowed us to extend our thermal endurance somewhat. By the second day, we had managed to scout a long, sinuous path clear across the 8 and into the deep water of the southwest lagoon, where Begonia was so far away that she could be blocked entirely from view with a pinky finger at arm's length. We were cold again when we finally climbed aboard after the long journey home, but both agreed that the swim was totally worth it and a nice way to spend what may end up being our last day in South Minerva Reef for a while.
Snorkelling across the middle bar of the 8 we especially enjoyed; and (not pictured) more cleaning of the hulls in preparation for our New Zealand arrival
For those planning a visit to Minerva (north and/or south) - here is a really great report from another boater we know:Pogeyan
NE Anchorage location >> 23° 55.52'S, 179° 05.91'W see google
Due South of Pass (closer to access the other lagoon) 23° 56.56'S, 179° 07.72'W see google
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