And
fortunately, I know Sara Johnson.
Quickly,
for those of you who don’t follow the Wondertime blog, Sara and Michael and
their two daughters are weaving an interesting life. They sailed from the
PNW to Mexico in 2011, crossed the Pacific in 2012, cruised and settled for a
spell in New Zealand, got residency, moved back to the PNW to try the house
life for the second time in their married lives (they’ve lived aboard and
cruised three different boats), abandoned said house life this year, and moved back
to New Zealand to travel and explore the country in an RV.
All
of which put them in the perfect position to be ready and available when an old
cruising friend asked them to oversee the lux resort they own on a small
private island in the Kingdom of Tonga…for almost three months.
All
of which put the Del Viento crew, hanging in Tonga for most of this cyclone
season, in a perfect position to hang out with the Wondertime crew late into
the evening for their daughter’s birthday party a few nights ago.
We’ll
be back in time for Thanksgiving dinner, cooking in a large, open kitchen in
paradise.
In
the meantime, we are preparing Del Viento to ride out a major storm (or storms)
on a mooring in the relatively protected waters of the Vava’u group of islands.
It’s unnerving. There is no discrete, perfect list of things we can do to
guarantee a good outcome if Mother Nature unleashes on Tonga and Del Viento.
It’s a matter of doing your absolute best with all the knowledge you have and
can get from others, and then hoping for luck.
We’re
prepping to attach two independent mooring lines to the boat via the anchor
rollers, attaching both our anchors to the leads where they attach to the
mooring blocks, and running last-resort, back-up lines through the bow chocks,
around the mast, and down to the mooring.
And now
for the rest of the story: We’re all headed back to the States in a few weeks
to stay Christmas through Easter with our families. We’re leaving Del Viento unattended
for a chunk of the season. Unattended for the first time since we began
cruising.
Before
we depart we need to remove the sails, the dodger, the solar panels, some running
rigging, the kayaks, the dinghy, and everything normally attached to the rails.
The spinnaker pole deck chock could chafe some of the lines we plan to run, so
that’s coming off too.
We’ve
got to prep our water tanks—If they’re filled with rainwater, how much chlorine
bleach do we add to stave off yuck and yet not damage the stainless?—and make
sure every locker is ventilated. We’ve got to eat all our food and open the
fridge up. That's just a taste; Windy's making lists.
Then
we can start being anxious about our uninsured home floating alone, thousands
of miles from us.
--MR
Holly turning 7 at the Mandala Resort on Fetoko Island. It could be worse. |
A splendid place to hang with old friends. |
And it's pleasant enough at night to enjoy a fire--though it's supposed to get warmer as the summer months come. |
This was our approach to the Vava'u group. The geographic comparisons to the San Juan and Gulf Islands came immediately. |
These clothes are for sale. Someone hangs them here daily, in Neiafu. Haven't seen the salesperson, but I think these are her kids. |
Walking past a couple high school girls. That's the big Catholic church in the background. |
School kids catching a ride back out of Neiafu to home. |
No comments:
Post a Comment
Thank you for taking the time to comment; we look forward to reading your feedback. Don't forget that you may also contact us directly at delviento@hotmail.com (please type DEL VIENTO in the subject line)