Wednesday, October 12, 2011

The Arafura Sea

The Arafura Sea. This stretch of water between Australia and Indonesia is 40 feet deep for hundreds of miles. Stereotypical of the nearby coast of Australia, the creatures are deadly. Shark sightings were common and appreciated until one decapitated a large tuna leaving only half the head on the hook. Once an old desert now covered in water, we witnessed about a dozen sea snakes over a hundred miles offshore.

Despite the dangers, we did have watchdogs in the air. The Australian sea patrol plane hailed us on the radio, presumably to verify we did not deter from our Bali destination. We did not relay our fishing report which was noteworthy. We caught tuna on request along with one large wahoo weighing 38lbs. Stripped and dried, wahoo yields some pretty tasty jerky.

Days are easily lost out at sea, however, one was celebrated. August 2nd, our (including Makai’s) birthday. We found Makai in California the first week of October; she was eight weeks old at the time. She did not come with a birth certificate so naturally, we fabricated one. She celebrated with the jerky and we ate a chocolate cake. The attendance was lean this year with family and friends to be desire. The wind and sun were guests gifting sail and solar power respectively. The generosity ended with the Arafura Sea.


Entering the Timor Sea, the wind ceased to exist for 5 days. A surprising number of people ask us what we do out at sea when there is no wind. Well… we wait. Most sailors go crazy not moving, we see it a vacation from sailing. Reading books, laying in the sun, watching movies, casting for fish, isn’t a bad way to spend a few days. No wind or swell, the sunsets, sunrises, and stars all seem better. One of the world greatest destinations is the middle of the ocean with no wind, waves, clouds or moon. The stars are so bright they reflect off the water. It is nearly impossible to tell where the reflection ends and sky begins. I imagine is similar to being in space void the view of the earth. It is also quiet... so quiet it takes a little while to get used to it, like being underwater. These rare moments never last forever. The wind revived and whisked us off to Bali.

Pacific to Torres Straight

It took just over a month to sail from Fiji to Bali. We ghosted by the Vanuatu’s Makura and Mataso Island on a rainy morning and, unfortunately, continued West. Consistent wind and moderate seas, we averaged 135 mile days for the last leg of the Pacific Ocean.

We were looking forward to the Torres Straight after rumors of scattered coral islands, strong current, and congested shipping lanes. With a fair SSE wind, we decided pave our own way. Minding the easterly current kept us out of the shipping lanes we kept our distance from the shipping lanes. We were making great time and life was good until a gale forced us to drop sail a few hours after sunset. Lacking a working jib as a result of an incident in Fiji, we hove to with a reefed mizzen. We drifted slowly towards the shipping lane eight miles away, we felt pretty uncomfortable tuning into the VHF radio for cargo traffic and popping our heads into the gale every five minutes. I took a nap as Chad was on watch knowing it would be a long night. I’m not sure when exactly I woke up. It could have been the noise, but I would like to think I awoke while flying. Either way, my flight crashed landed after only 8 feet. I hit the starboard cabinets while shielding my head from airborne books, laptops, and Chad’s throwing club from Africa (I have to find a new storage place for that). A wave broke over the beam and mizzen sail. I was sure our mizzen mast was gifted to Poseidon. Chad and I looked at each other thinking “Where the hell did that come from?”

Throughout the night, the wind continued to build accompanied by rain as the current graced into the danger shipping zone. Visibility dropped significantly rendering watches all but worthless. Around 3am Chad came down below for a few minutes from his shift and disappeared again out into rain and darkness. “Hit all the lights! Get on the radio! Three hundred foot cargo ship is going to run us over!” is all I heard. Every light we own was on within seconds. I grabbed the radio following protocol by announcing our location off the ship’s port bow, stuttering through rough coordinates and desperately seeking a response. The ship immediately veered to starboard missing us by “a football throw” as Chad so described. 4am I made coffee and blueberry pancakes to shake off the night and start the day off right before the sun lit the sky. By 5am the wind had settled to 30 knots, so we rose a double reefed main slowly pinching upwind.






Late morning we caught the tidal current and favorable wind. We paid our respects to Twin Island as we cruised on past. Records were broken as we hit 12.5 knots through the Prince Wales Channel. I have to attribute at least 5 knots to the current. It felt like sailing down a river as we were swept into the milky green waters of the Arafura Sea. Goodbye Pacific, hello Indian Ocean.