As we left the wind shadow of the island, the trade winds filled in and we slowly accelerated away. When the first rays of the rising sun fell upon our sail, all that any of the other boats back in the mooring field would have seen of us is the top half of a pink/orange triangle disappearing over the horizon.
We had good tailwinds, with a large, three to three-and-a-half-meter swell rolling across our beam. When the wind decreased slightly, I switched to the spinnaker and our speed shot up to more than it had been before. The general trend was forecast to be decreasing, but we had a small spike in intensity the next afternoon. I held on for a while, but the boat was starting to be overpowered as we surfed down the waves. When it looked like conditions were not as temporary as hoped, I want forward and changed back to the jib for a while so that Maryanne would not have to be gritting her teeth through her watch.
By the time I came back on, the wind really was slowing down. We had been trying to get to Tonga early on Friday in order to have time to complete our entry formalities without having to pay the extra weekend fees. It was starting to look like our ETA was now going to be mid-afternoon. Once again, I switched back to the spinnaker, which put us back to arriving comfortably in the wee hours of Friday morning. As I was tidying up the lines, I looked up and saw a big split in one of the upper panels. Damn! I stood there for a few minutes, willing it not to be true, and then, dejected, undid all of the work I had just done.
We've had a few spinnakers now. I think this one is our fifth. We use them a lot, mind you, but of all the ones we have had, I think this one has been the most disappointing. Almost as soon as we unpacked it from the sailmaker, a year and a half ago, the color started to fade rapidly. By the end of summer, five months later, it looked like a ten-year-old sail. The bright yellow panels in the middle are now indistinguishable from the white. The fabric seems to have aged equally quickly and it has not held up well to the stress of normal handling. I don't know if this is our sailmaker's fault or if they are using a subcontractor in Asia that is using inferior materials but, honestly, it seems like we have been sold not a sail, but a sail-like awning for use in indoor lobbies and atriums only. So far, our other sails look just fine. The stitching is in good shape and well-done, and the material is showing no signs of stretching or sun damage. Let's hope that stays that way for a while.
With our jib now being our best option for our point of sail, we were now back to worrying about not being able to complete our clearance in Tonga before the end of Friday business.
Then a squall came through, and then another, and then another. It turned out to be a good thing the spinnaker was safely down below in the Recovery Room after all. That kept our speed up for long enough that we finally made it into the lee of Vava'u in the last hours of darkness. By the time we pulled into Port of Refuge at Neiafu, we had just enough time to tie to the Customs wharf and tidy up from our passage before they opened for the day.
Sunrise at sea, and before long we find ourselves at another customs dock (this time Nieafu in the Vava'u group of Tonga
Anchorage location >> On google maps
