Check-in May 7, 2025; 02:51 UTC

Current Position: 16 04.284’S 142 21.989W; Local Timezone: UTC-10; HDG: N/A; COG: N/A; SOG: N/A; Distance to Waypoint (Raroia): At Anchor; Total Miles Sailed: 3892 nm;
Comments: I woke up this morning with the intention of moving the boat, but the wind is blowing hard (15-20 kt) and the surface of the water in the lagoon is not smooth, making it difficult to spot coral heads. I will get ready with the hopes that the water settles down later. I weighed anchor at 10:30. It was challenging because it the wind. Even though the wind continued to blow, it was easy to spot the coral heads with the sun high overhead. I arrived at the Kon Tiki site about 1:00, after carefully navigating through the coral heads, and dropped the anchor in about 30’ of water in front of a small motus. There is not much shelter here from the wind and in places the surf crashed over the reef, so the boat is rocking a bit. I worked on the wind vane a bit, then went snorkeling in a beautiful spot, and finally visited the memorial for the Kon Tiki. Even though there are three other boats here, they are spread out even more so than the boats at the north anchorage, so it seems more isolated here. I even have my own motus. I will ready the boat for the passage to Tahiti tomorrow. A small shower arrived at 16:50.

Check-in May 6, 2025; 01:18 UTC

Current Position: 15 57.155’S 142 19.120W; Local Timezone: UTC-10; HDG: N/A; COG: N/A; SOG: N/A; Distance to Waypoint (Raroia): At Anchor; Total Miles Sailed: 3885 nm;
Comments: As the sun set last night, there were thunderstorms to the north. Since shark steaks were not on the menu, I finished off the lentil dish I made a week ago. Sunset was at 5:11. The morning is partly cloudy with a stiff breeze. After doing some departure planning, and I thought about leaving tomorrow, but it would be a shame not to see where the Kon Tiki landed. I will finish my business at this anchorage today and then move to the Kon Tiki sight (16 3.944S, 142 21.802W) tomorrow (Wednesday). On Friday, I will make my way to the passage and cross at slack (high) tide at 12:45. A departure Friday at midday should have me clear the navigation hazards of the atolls after 24h of essential a SW heading, then about midnight Sunday a due W heading for an arrival Tuesday night (Wednesday morning after heaving to on the leeward side of Tahiti. My goals for today are finish fixing the wind vane, pack up the boat, do some snorkeling in two outcrops near the boat, and catch a blacktipped shark, in that general order. I accomplished all of my goals.

Check-in May 5, 2025; 01:18 UTC

Current Position: 15 57.155’S 142 19.120W; Local Timezone: UTC-10; HDG: N/A; COG: N/A; SOG: N/A; Distance to Waypoint (Raroia): At Anchor; Total Miles Sailed: 3885 nm;
Comments: The tuna is now five-day-old-fish and has been stored in a fridge I cannot cook all the time. I had a double portion last night, but I could already tell it is going off, so I am some as crab bait in a trap I just placed. The good news is the sun finally came out. The bad news is it is 16:40, a half hour before sunset. I’m at 96%, but ran the engine for another 30m mainly so I could cool the fridge a little more before shutting everything off for the night. I pulled the trap up after about 2h, and something had eaten through it and gotten the bait. There are a lot of things with sharp teeth here. It is sunset and the weather seems to have passed. I can see patches of blue sky. The location is mystic. You can hear the ocean raging on the other side of the reef, although your view is obscured by the coconut trees. On this side it is tranquil, like a swimming pool. The sea life takes refuge in the lagoon just like I have, and it is abundant. I have been in many tropical waters, but this is different. It is an aquarium. I dropped the crab cage again. It was down 15m and I noticed the line was taunt. I brought it up. Not only was the bait gone, but the bet cage was gone! All that was left was the wire frame. I looked down in the water and deep I could see dozens of sharks. Plan B will be a chunk of meat on a hook. Blacktip shark is supposed to be tasty. In the middle of the night, there was a small rain shower, as I had hoped for. I climbed the mast this morning to work on the wind instruments. I forgot how easy it is to get up there when the boat isn’t pitching. The WS310 unit is wired via a single NEMA2000 connector at the top of the mast. I was able to monitor whether the unit was working at the top of the mast using my iPhone connected to the Cortex system. I unplugged the unit (no evidence of corrosion) and reseated the plug. It still did not work. I brought the unit down with me and plugged it directly into the dongle on the network (bypassing the cable that goes up the mast, but it still did not work. Figuring I had nothing to loose, I removed the four screw that hold a plate on the unit, but found everything inside was encased in epoxy. It was not designed to be serviced. Just to be certain, I unplugged the dongle and moved the whole unit to the beginning of the network, but it still did not work. Either the dongle or the wind instrument is defective. I turned on the Starlink for the first time since leaving Mexico. I still have service until the 8th, but by turning it on I assume I am starting the clock on the “two month rule.” I ordered replacement wind instruments and had them sent to my brother David in Tucson. I am still not sure how I will get them. Tahiti required that I use a customs agent, which costs at least $250. Also, there is no guarantee the part would arrive/clear in time for me to get it in Tahiti. I am looking into having it shipped to the Cook Islands because I do not plan to spend much time in Tahiti … it is a zoo and they don’t make it easy on transient sailors. While in the Internet, I also looked into more details regarding anchoring in Tahiti (rules are changing all the time) and I ordered the Navionics maps for the South Pacific islands. Another small shower passed through at 14:00. No wind to speak of, just a gentle rain. I left the dive gear out to be rinsed, but took all the dry ropes, etc. in out of the rain. At 14:00, I also tossed a line out with a chunk of six-day-old-tuna. Five minutes later, I had a four-foot blacktop shark on the line. It moved deliberately and cut the line on what I believe was the boat’s prop. I had been using the spinning rod. I moved to the open reel and put on a heave steel leader before trying again. Within a couple of minutes I had another strike … not a shark, it seemed like some sort of large reef fish, but the hook did not set. I went to look for my gaff and could not find it. I fear I left it on the deck when I caught the tuna and it got washed overboard. Since it was dark, I might not even noticed. At 14:30, just 30 minutes after starting, I had my second four-foot blacktip shark on the line. I fought it about 10 minutes and had it by the side of the boat when it bit clean through the steel leader. I fabricated a leader out of stainless steel wire and will try one last time. Within a minute there was a strike. By the time I got it to the surface, it was just a head. I had caught a good-sized reef fish, some sort of bass, but the sharks had made short work of it. By now the sharks were in a frenzy. I threw what was left of my fish in the water and they caught over it, some leaping out of the water. It was time to call it a day. I’ll try tomorrow when things settle down.

Check-in May 4, 2025; 01:26 UTC

Current Position: 15 57.155’S 142 19.120W; Local Timezone: UTC-10; HDG: N/A; COG: N/A; SOG: N/A; Distance to Waypoint (Raroia): At Anchor; Total Miles Sailed: 3885 nm;
Comments: I was awoken about 2:00. The boat was heeled over and the wind was howling with gale-force winds. The boat was healed over because I had lashed the boom to starboard to expose the solar panels while at anchor. I went on deck and untied the lashing and the boat uprighted. I went below and turned on the AIS so I could use the Cortex system to determine if the anchor was dragging. Also, it was disorienting outside. The only light was from the boat anchor lights at the tops of the masts. The water spray reduced visibility. I turned on the instruments and discovered the boat was facing due south. The wind had shifted almost 180 degrees. The anchor was holding. I am thankful I moved the boat yesterday from the cramped/dangerous anchorage at the village and I am also thankful I put out extra rode yesterday when I set the anchor because this feels like 40 kt winds. I woke again at 4:00 and the wind was blowing from the NE again, but not as hard. When I got up at 6:00, right after dawn and after having slept nearly 12h, it was calm with a breeze from the SE. Even before breakfast, I fixed the DC-DC charger and fired up the engine (maybe for the first time) specifically to charge the house battery bank. I ran the engine for 90m and reached a charge of 87%. Perhaps more importantly, I was able to run the fridge while the engine was running. Even though it is very dark today, I am hoping the solar system will charge the batteries the rest of the way. The black tipped sharks still circle the boat. I am definitely going swimming with them when the weather clears up. By midmorning, it was becoming clear that the weather was breaking up. The lockers in the cockpit had taken on water during the passage. Both have pumps, but they are not automatic and the one on the starboard side is not positioned at the lowest point in the locker. I had to remove everything (mostly rope on the starboard and dive equipment on the port), wash in seawater, and set everything out to dry, I’m hoping there is another good rain shower to rinse everything off. I took the dinghy to shore. It is so freaking cool. There are all sorts of tropical fish, crabs, clams, sharks and other marine life right next to the shore. In a case of two for two today (first the DC-DC charger), I believe I fix the wind vane … I used a bigger hammer. When I studied how the windvane was binding via the gears, it was obvious the lower shaft had been pushed forward ever so slightly when the tug moved me at Hiva Oa. It wasn’t obvious to the eye. I got in front of it in my dingy and gave it a couple of swift kicks from both sides, and now the windvane moves freely. It is still slightly out of alignment (there is a procedure for physically aligning the windvane and watervane), but I will fix that when the wind isn’t blowing so hard. I won’t be able to test the wind vane in the lagoon of this atoll because it is too dangerous to sail (too many coral heads), but I’m pretty confident I will have it working before I return to open sea. I am going to see if I can solicit help when I go up the mast to look at the wind instruments. It would be helpful to have someone below to tell me if they are working while I jiggle the connectors at the top of the mast. Now I’m going to have a beer.

The Raroria Atoll

While my original plan was to sail from the Marquesas to the Fakarava atoll, Nature had other plans for me. My wind vane wasn’t working, the TillerPilot was being temperamental, and some nasty weather was on the way. The idea of navigating the dense atolls without a wind vane in inclement weather was not appealing. About one-third of the way to Fakarava I bailed and headed south to the Raroria atoll, which was 100 nm closer. Raroria is known for the location where Thor Heyerdahl’s Kon-Tiki raft arrived after its 101-day journey from South America in 1947. I reached Raroria after dark, so heaved to offshore until morning, when I passed into the lagoon about 8:00, during slack (high) tide. I first went to the small village of Raroria, which has a population of about 200, mostly pearl farmers and fishermen. As it turned out, the once-a-month supply ship had arrived the day before, and the small store was relatively well stocked. I anchored in the small bay with a catamaran that had arrived an hour before me, and took my dinghy to the dock. The dock had a few colorful boats moored to it.

The village consists of a network of narrow concrete roads. Before I went to the store, I took a look around the village. There is an interesting open-air chapel constructed of rocks.

I also visited the cemetery. While there were many graves from the early twentieth century, most of the headstones for those were hard to read due to weathering. There were also some recent graves.

I followed the directions I was given to the store and almost ended up in the living room of a stranger. Although I don’t speak French, the woman figured I was looking for the store and kindly showed me where it was. The couple who ran the store were delightful. They tried to talk me into staying the night because there was always a party on Sarurdays with music and dancing when the pearl farmers on the other side of the atoll returned for the weekend, the party and church the next morning. However, the anchorage at the village was sketchy and bad weather was forecasted. The anchorage is surrounded by reefs and an unmarked wreck, and not much room to swing on anchor in a storm. I decided to move my to the north side of the lagoon, about 10 nm away. And, that was a good decision, because one heck of a gale hit that night.

Check-in May 3, 2025; 01:38 UTC

Current Position: 15 57.155’S 142 19.120W; Local Timezone: UTC-10; HDG: N/A; COG: N/A; SOG: N/A; Distance to Waypoint (Raroia): At Anchor; Total Miles Sailed: 3885 nm;
Comments: Sunset was at 17:20. I am still 14 nm from the passage into the lagoon and just west of the smaller atoll Takume. As predicted, the wind is shifting more northerly and is lighter, making progress slow. The waves cause the headsail to flag and the boom the swing. The seas are calmer and there is no threatening weather to the north or east. I reached Trinity at sunset. They gave me advice regarding passage into the lagoon and recommended I make my the 10 nm north to where they are currently anchored. I was told the anchorage is not great by the town and the coral heads are easily seen in the lagoon, especially if the sun is high in the sky. When I was 7.5 nm from the passage, I heaved to. My position was 15 51.963’S 142 27.557’W at 19:09. I was traveling about 1.5 kt at 328, generally away from the atoll. If X is the number of hours I am heaved to, I will be:
(7.5 + 1.5*X) nm from the passage 12-X will be the time I have to sail to the passage
If I can sail at 4 km/h I must be able to sail the first distance in the second time. In other words …
4 nm/h = (7.5 + 1.5X)/(12-X)
Solving for X …
48-4X = 7.5 + 1.5X 5.5X = 48-7.5 X = (48-7.5)/5.5) = 7.3
Checking my work, if I have heaved to 7.3 h, I will be 7.5 + 1.5*7.3 ‎ = 18.45 nm away. And, it will take me 18.43/4 ‎ = 4.608h to sail that distance. 7.3+4.6=11.9h.
Bottom line is I should sleep 5h then plan to sail back to the passage. Note, I could have lowered the sails instead of heaving to, but under bare poles the wind would have pushed me towards the reef, not away from it, so what I am doing is safer. Before going to sleep, I checked the chain locker to make sure the chain was in order. I set periodic alarms. At midnight I determine I am drifting closer to 1 rather than 1.5 kt. At 3:30 I got up and made some chai tea. I was 15 nm from the passage. At 3:50, I set sail for the passage with the double-reefed main and half the Yankee. I was making 4 kt. Sunrise is in 90m. By that time I should be close to where I was when I heaved to last night. It is dark … no stars or moon. It is a strange feeling sailing towards a reef in the darkness. Another boat, “XIII”, apparently a 56’ sailboat is between me and the passage, very close to the atoll and perhaps 5 nm from the passage. Another one, “Lulu”, is 70 nm away following the same course I took to get here. At 4:45, the wind was lightening up, I’d say 8 kt from the NE, so I unfurled more of the jib to make a little over 4 kt. The wind picked up at sunrise (5:30), which was spectacular. I am doing 5 kt and I have 9.5 nm to go to the passage. The weather to the east looks threatening. I can see a squall is passing behind me, which is probably the source of the new-found wind, which is driving the boat 5.5 kt. At 6:00, I am essentially back to where I was last night, 7.5 nm from the passage, which ai am schedule to reach about 7:30. At 6:00, I turned the Radar on and confirmed the accuracy of the charts. I see the squall behind me on the Radar, but nothing else threatening. I am 7.2 nm out, essentially the same distance I was when I heaved to last night. I can see now my waypoint is about 2 nm from the passage and XIII is about 1 nm offshore when it turns at 6:10, not towards the passage but away from it, turning 180 degrees to head up into the wind, presumably to drop sails. At 6:15, I spot land, motus, the palm-fringed mini-islands that circle the atoll. It has been strange to be so close and not see anything, but then the whole atoll is the height of a coconut tree. At 6:20, XII turns to enter the passage. She follows the waypoints Bandit gave me exactly. I notice she gives the reef on the north side of the entrance, the one Trinity told me about, a wide berth. I am about an hour away from my waypoint. At 6:35, XIII has made it through the passage and is turning SW (200) towards the village, still following the waypoints. At my last waypoint (R7) she continues straight for about 2 nm before anchoring. Since the wind was light and I had two reefs in the main, I didn’t round up when I reached my outer marker, but just started the engine, furled the jib, and dropped the main while still under autopilot, which was directing me where I needed to be to avoid the reef anyway. The green seems out of place. I reached the outer marker at 7:40. From about a mile and a half out, I motored through the passage, following the waypoints. The channel was larger than I expected. The sails were stowed and secured by 7:50, about one mile from waypoint R1 and under motor at 5 kt. It seems I will pass into the lagoon exactly at high tide, just in time as there are squalls coming. A quarter mile from R1, I disengaged the autopilot and hand-steered. As I entered the passage, I could see the motus on the other side of the lagoon. There were markers in both sides of the entrance to the channel. I could see water coming over the reef to the left. There is a second reef in front of you as soon as you cross the barrier … hence the sharp right turn. There are standard red/green markers after that showing the water the anchorage at the village. The first green one marks a boomie, so stay to the left. In fact, all of the green and red markers are on top of boomies. The anchorage is in 35-40’ of water. It feels dicey as I cannot pay out enough chain because of a reef behind me. I want to check out the village. The once-a-month supply ship arrived/departed yesterday and so the store is supposed to be stocked. I met several nice people in the town , including a woman, Karen, whose home I thought was the store. When she understood what I was looking for, we both had a laugh about me inviting myself into her living room. She kindly showed me where the store was. I stocked up on some things, went back to the boat, and hauled anchor just as to more large catamarans were arriving. I navigated the 1 1/2 nm channel then headed out across the lagoon for the 8 1/2 nm trip to the north side. There is no way all four of us would have fit safely at the anchorage. I was hesitant to move. It was squally, which was of course precisely why I needed to move. I thought I might be difficult to see the coral heads without sunlight, but they stuck out like turquoise patches on the grey water. The only way to navigate across the lagoon single-handed was to put the boat on autopilot and sit out on the bow, going back to the cockpit to divert the boat when I spotted coral. The threat was real. I would have hit a dozen coral heads had I not spotted them. About halfway across the lagoon a squall hit. There were high winds, but not rain. Since I was not sailing, it was not an issue, except waves were kicked up in the lagoon and I was sprayed with seawater while sitting on the bow. Shortly after that, about two-thirds of the way across, I had to take quick action to avoid what appeared to be abandoned fish traps. I arrived at the anchorage about 2:15. Two boats were leaving as I arrived, leaving five boats to my port and two to my starboard. However, the boats are spread out hundreds of yards apart. As I was setting the anchor, two black-tipped sharks joined the party. B I just cannot imagine a more beautiful place than this … angry grey skies, turquoise water, green palm trees and white sand. This may be the best place I visit on my trip for diving, so I’m going to spend some time here. There is an issue with my AGM battery bank, Alternator, or DC-DC charger. The AGMs are charged (13.08 V), but the “input voltage” to the DC-DC charger is only 8.51 V, so the alternator did not charge the lithium bank during the crossing. This is an issue because there was no sun today and the lithium bank was used hard over the past 24h for Radar and autopilot. While I was trying to figure this out, I was hit by the hardest-driving rainstorm in awhile. The timing was good, because I needed a shower, but the water was very cold. Returning to the DC-DC problem … I believe I have found the issue … a short between the input wires. This was draining the starter battery bank. When things cool down in the engine room (after motoring), I will fix the problem (tomorrow) and run the engine to make certain the system is working and to charge the main battery bank. Even during the storms, the boat does not rock a bit. This means I have three things to fix here …
The wind vane The DC-DC charger The wind instruments at the top of the mast
I think this is going to take me a couple of weeks.

Check-in May 2, 2025; 00:14 UTC

Current Position: 15 34.095’S 142 20.881’W; Local Timezone: UTC-10; HDG: 187 COG: 190; SOG: 4.4 kt; Distance to Waypoint (Raroia): 25; Total Miles Sailed: 3835 nm;
Comments: I watched the large squalls I avoided late yesterday pass behind me in the setting sun. At dusk, I slowed the boat down to 3.5-4 kt to let some more squalls pass in front of me. As they did, despite being having only half the Yankee deployed and a double reef in the main, the wind picked up to drive the boat 7 kt. Sunset was about 17:15. Soon after that I passed within 15 nm of a small atoll, the only real obstacle between me and Raroia. For a change, the TillerPilot operated flawlessly, and I would have slept through the night if not for the 2h periodic alarms. The wind was stiff but the seas relatively calm, so I travelled at 5.5 kt with little sail, little heeling, and little rolling. One of the most pleasant nighttime sails. At midnight I went to the cockpit. There was no moon or clouds. I turned off the running lights for a minute and looked at the stars. I was headed straight for the southern cross. At 14.5 degrees south, I took note that it was cooler than a few weeks ago when I crossed the equator. The last course I plotted with PredictWind was at noon. Despite reducing sail and attempting to slow down, I was ahead of schedule for an arrival of 18:00, right after dusk, and perhaps 2.5h after low tide. The tide would be coming in through the pass. It is highly unlikely I will arrive before dark, and there is no way I am going to try to navigate through the unfamiliar pass in the dark, so I am going to have to make a decision tomorrow about where to heave to. There is a smaller atoll to the north of Raroia that needs to be avoided. The eastern side of Raroia is supposed to be treacherous … it’s where Thor Heyerdahl’s Kon-Tiki raft arrived in Raroia after its 101-day journey from South America in 1947. I will need to heave to on the west side, where the pass is. The wind is supposed to die down tomorrow night and blow more northerly. I will need to check the currents, but it may make sense to sit bare poles NE of Raroia and drift south until Saturday morning. I note the S/V Trinity (the one that contacted me earlier in this passage) is anchored where I intend to, so I will reach out to it when I am within VHF range. Sunrise was about 5:40. It was partly cloudy without any immediate threats. As best as I can tell, there were no squalls last night. Despite relatively light winds and a minimal sail plan, I have still averaged over 5 kt overnight. A small squall passed behind me at 6:00, increasing the wind a bit and bringing a light drizzle. Because my instruments were down at 9:00 yesterday, I was unable to record my location or progress, so I have no point of reference for today, and by 9:00 tomorrow, I should be at anchor. About 9:00, there was a gentle rain and I rinsed off. I celebrated by eating the last apple I purchased in Nogales seven weeks ago. It was still in pretty good shape. I still have one from Cabo and another I bought in Hiva Oa. Unfortunately, I had to toss out 2 1/2 baguettes that were getting moldy after four days at sea. They looked surreal floating on the water. It is 14:00 and I am about 25 nm from the passage into the Raroia lagoon. I am about 10 nm from the waypoint that I intend to heave to. At that point I will contact Trinity. I will set periodic alarms tonight and move within 5 nm of the passage before daybreak (5:40), about 2h before slack tide. About 7:30, I will position myself close enough that I can study the water with binoculars before actually entering. I don’t expect there to an issue because the winds are supposed to be relatively light tonight, but sometime the winds can interfere with slack tide by driving water over the atoll.

Check-in May 1, 2025; 01:08 UTC

Current Position: 13 45.774’S 141 41.654’W; Local Timezone: UTC-10; HDG: 184 COG: 190; SOG: 5.3 kt; Distance to Waypoint (Raroia): 142; Total Miles Sailed: 3718 nm;
Comments: Sunset was approximately 5:20. It looked a bit squally ahead, so I turned the radar on. Indeed, there was a storm about 8 nm ahead of me, but I do not believe I will be significantly impacted by it. The wind picked up after sunset. At times I was doing 7 kt. The TillerPilot alarm went off every 10-30m all night as it struggled to keep the boat on course. I sometimes ignored the alarm if I seemed to be on course. Once it woke me and I found the boat had heaved to. A rain storm hit at midnight. I turned on the radar to assess the threat. I was located on the southern leading edge of a 12 nm-long squall line that was presumably traveling east, so I tried to ride it out. The boat slowed from 7.5 to 3 kt as the storm passed. Sunrise was about 5:35. It is partly cloudy and no threats. The boat is making 6.5 kt to Raroia. I’ve discovered one of the issues with the TillerPilot. It must be getting multiple commands from the NEMA2000 network. For example, there are three compasses on the network: the CORTEX AIS, the Precision-9 compass (where all of the instruments should be getting their information from), and the internal compass in the TillerPilot (which is inaccurate and should not be used). The TillerPilot is switching between the last two. When it is using a heading for from the Precision-9 and it suddenly switches to its internal compass, it becomes confused and goes off course. At 8:30, almost all NEMA2000 electronic went offline. I shut down the power and opened the main panel. The wiring was hot. I disconnected the elements of the network to find out which is the problem. The TillerPilot is operating independently while U work and I broke out the analog compass to make sure I stay on course. I confirmed the TillerPilot does not draw current from the network. Here are my findings by component for the first zone:
Zeus 3S Chartplotter – 0.1 Ah Two Triton 2 displays – 0.2 Ah Remote Autopilot Control – 0.2 Ah
All of the above, but isolated from the rest of the network draws 0.4 Ah and the wires are not hot. There are basically two more zones, a backbone in the radio compartment to which the VHF, AIS, and the PW DataHub are connected, and a backbone under the settee to which the two boat speed sensors, depth sounder, compass, and wind instruments are connected. The three backbones are daisy-chained, so I cannot really isolate each component, but many have separate breakers. I isolated the second and third backbone. When I plugged in the second backbone, it drew 15 Ah and blew the 10 Amp fuse in the first backbone. There were eight cables going into the second backbone:
Cable from first backbone Cable to second backbone AIS DataHub Ethernet Fuel level sensor Fuel management dongle NEMA 183 adapter for the TillerPilot
It was the TillerPilot cable that was drawing the 15 Amps. Since the communication with the TillerPilot is faulty anyway, I left it unplugged and will use it in stand-alone mode. The system is working again. During the three hours it took me to disassemble, test, and reassemble the NEMA2000 system, the TillerPilot worked fine on its own. No alarms, no course deviations … just plugging alone. I suspect the short in the TillerPilot NEMA182 cable has been the origin of a lot of problems I’ve had with it. The wind lightened up in the afternoon so I shook the second reef out about 13:30. I was making about 5.5 kt toward the waypoint at 186 with 150 nm to go. At 14:30, squalls appeared to the east. Radar showed four. The ones at 9 nm would probably miss me, but the two at 3-5 are likely to hit, so U am reducing sail. I managed to reduce the jib to 50% and put the second reef in before the first squall hit me square on. I went out and got a shower. The boat was doing 7 kt beam reach, but was in heeled over 5 degrees. I can see more squalls developing. It’s going to be one of those nights. I am leaving the sails reduced. I have made 133 miles towards Raroia in the last 24h. I expect to arrive tomorrow evening, but will have to wait until morning for slack tide to enter the lagoon.

Check-in April 30, 2025; 01:32 UTC

Current Position: 11 41.616’S 140 55.604’W; Local Timezone: UTC-10; HDG: 181; COG: 188; SOG: 5.1 kt; TWS: ?; TWD: ?; TWA: ?; Distance to Waypoint (Raroia): 274; Total Miles Sailed: 3597 nm;
Comments: Note I am in a new time zone.The gusts increased in frequency and speed as sunset approached, driving the boat at 6.5 kt. The skies were partly cloudy and nothing looked threatening, so I left the main with a single reef and the Yankee fully deployed. I had an alarm set to retrieve my fishing line at dusk. When the alarm went off, I thought to myself, it’s been awhile since I caught a fish. Moments later, the struck indicator went off. I could tell it was not a small fish (it was taking my line with full drag), so I heaved to and tired the fish before landing it. It was a good-sized tuna, certainly a week’s worth the food. While I was cleaning the fish, I received a VHF call from S/V Trinity, a 46’ multihull doing 10 kt about 19 nm away. They had noticed that I had altered course and speed (because I was heaved to) and wanted to make sure I was okay. I explained I had caught a fish, which they congratulated me on before continuing on their way. When I got back underway, the wind had picked up … I am guessing 15-18 kt. The boat was doing 7-7.5 kt with the single-reefed main and the full Yankee. I had trouble getting the wind vane to keep me on course. The problem was periodic wind gusts that would cause the boat to round up to 180 (from the desired heading of 210). When the gusts stopped, the wind vane would over correct, setting a heading of 240, presumably because I had weather helm because the main was reefed and the jib was fully deployed. In the end, the TillerPilot was used. It had the same problem, but corrected faster, so the swing was more like 15 degrees rather than 30. Nonetheless, the TillerPilot’s alarm went off every time there was a gust because its arm had been fully extended and the course had not been corrected to 210 (it was more like 200). The alarm went off every few minutes and sometimes the TillerPilot could not correct itself, so I would have to get up. To try to address the issue, I tried to better balance the sails by furling in half the Yankee. This seemed to help. However, while trying to set up the TillerPilot, it stopped working. I would engage it in auto mode and it would immediately kick out to standby mode. I tried to reboot it, but the problem persisted. Finally, I check the deck-mounded plug and sure enough it was corroded. I did a quick clean and it started working again. When I have time, j will clean it better and pack it with dielectric grease. It was 2:00 before I got to bed. I woke at 6:00, nearly sunrise, with the alarm on the TillerPilot going off. The alarm is on the unit itself and not the main siren, so it is not as loud. The course was 195 (instead of an ideal 210). That seemed to be where the trim of the sails wanted to point the boat, so I reset the course to 200 to turn the alarm off. My goal today will be to try to evaluate the Monitor wind vane so I can report to the company and solicit a fix. It is partly cloudy. None of the clouds look particularly threatening, but there is the potential for a squall. My 9:00 check showed I made (570-455) 115 nm on, which is not bad considering all the difficulties I have had. The current forecast is for storms on Saturday the 3rd and Sunday the 4th (when I am supposed to arrive). Also, easterly winds are going to become northerly, making it difficult to get an angle on Fakarava unless I loose some latitude. Right now, the TillerPilot is only happy on a course of 230 or 180 (less than 239 and it rounds up to 180). I need to get as much rest as possible before Saturday, when I start navigating the atolls and will need to be awake most of the time. My plan is not to enter the atolls is foul weather … to either back off on my speed or plan to heave too and let the weather pass. About 10:00 is started to feel squally. It got grey, started to sprinkle, and the wind picked up. Especially as I expect to slow things down past the weekend, I put a second reef in the main. The boat handled better and I was still making 5 kt with only a sliver of Yankee. The boat seemed stable on a heading of 200-210 (waypoint 209), so I went below to take a nap. I laid down 45m, checked the weather and my route. Storms are predicted Saturday and Sunday when I would be navigating the atolls without reliable autopilot. I have made the executive decision to bail on Fakarava and make my way to Raroia, which is more than 100 nm closer and does not require me to navigate atolls. It is 1:00 local and Raroia is 290 nm away. If I can average 5.5 nm/h (probably not), I can be there before dark on Friday, before the storms are scheduled to arrive. If I don’t make it before dark, I can heave to and come I at first light Saturday. PredictWind has me arriving Saturday, but I have a very conservative model at night (only 3.5 kt). I am currently doing 5.5 kt with a double-reefed main and 80% of the Yankee on a heading of 188 to Raroia. The TillerPilot has stopped communicating with the chart plotter altogether. I tried cleaning the plug contacts, which worked before, but no luck. Fortunately, the TillerPilot can work independently, just no Nav or Wind mode. I fixed myself a healthy portion of the tuna … not going to run out anytime soon.

Manifesting a Bigeye

I have not caught any fish since the Dorado I caught before crossing the equator. Honestly, I have not been fishing much, but I had a line out yesterday. As dusk approached without any bites, the alarm I had set to retrieve the line went off. A good way to lose a rig is to leave it unattended overnight. When the alarm went off, I thought to myself that it’s about time I caught a fish. As I reached for the pole, the strike indicator went off and the line started paying out uncontrollably. I put full drag on, but it hardly slowed down. I quickly heaved it to take some pressure off the line and I played the fish until it was tired enough to gaff. I had caught a Bigeye Tuna. Before the sun sat, I cleaned the fish, producing enough meat for several weeks. While I was working on the fish, I received a VHF call from S/V Trinity, a much larger and faster catamaran that was about to overtake me. They wanted to know why I had stopped and offered assistance. I explained I had caught a fish. Their reply (in my best Australian accent) was “Good on ya, mate. Cheers!.”
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