Get Lost On Purpose

Category: Beveridge Reef

  • R.I.P. Dinghy

    —–Ahhh…Beveridge Reef, what an unkind animal you can be. We sit here on your sandy shelf and wait and wait for good weather to explore your outer reefs, inner lagoon, and your mysterious windward shipwreck. When finally a day comes, we join our neighbors for a day of spear fishing and collect your bounty as though it were our own. Grouper, Jack, Parrotfish…all relinquish themselves to the spear tip. Though we look carefully, you hide your lobsters and leave us with only molted shells. “Tis the Season” I guess, but the fishing is good. Blood gathers in the dinghy and the surrounding waters and you send your sharks to fend us off. Whitetips, no problem, but when your rally your Grey Reef sharks, we retreat and head home, taking with us pounds of fish for untold meals to come. We plan our first feast that evening aboard the good-ship Brick House, a Valiant 40 from Rhode Island. We gather and socialize while the wind outside rises, the anchor lines stretch. A shot of fine Italian Amaretto begins the meal. We sit. And then you knock us down.
    ——

    P1000155

    It was two hours before Patrick climbed up into the cockpit to check on things. Our dinghy was gone. A miscommunication, a mistied cleat, it’s not really important. Patrick took off in their dinghy for the mile and a half trip across the lagoon to search the other side. Even with a full moon, a good light, a night vision scope, and two hours of searching…no luck. My Caribe dinghy and Nissan outboard, together one of the most expensive pieces of equipment on the boat, were gone. Either it hit the reef, flipped, and got smashed to bits or it cruised right out the pass and is halfway to southern Tonga. We thought about leaving immediately, in the darkness, to try and catch up to it, but what if it really was on the reef and this isn’t exactly a friendly place to come and go in the night. What if we passed it in the night? We looked at the situation again the next morning. A small windshift, a twelve hour headstart, a dead downwind sail, an approaching low pressure system…what were the actual chances of finding it? Patrick reexamined the reef taking into account the angle of the wind and current and surmised it most likely hit some breakers and flipped. An APB went out on all the nets for boats in the vicinity to keep an eye out. The government of Niue and the entire anchorage Alofi was notified since it could float in that direction if it did make it out of the lagoon. After a brief period of mourning, Marge and I could do nothing but pick our heads up and start searching for a replacement. Patrick and Rebecca have agreed to alter their plans as needed to help us find another one. They feel awful about it and though it’s frustrating as hell, it was an honest mistake and could happen to anyone. Right now, it sounds as though the Moorings base in Vava’u Tonga may be our best bet. I’m hoping Zen and Flashback who are only a week or two away from there can send out some feelers and make some connections. The last thing we want to do is spend weeks waiting anywhere for a shipment from the states. Thankfully a few boats have offered up loaners as well.

    Other than that, we’re still here in Beveridge. There a small system passing over us today and tomorrow and we’re heading to Niue on Monday. We went spearfishing on the outside of the reef again yesterday. My feet are so blistered and raw from hours in my fins I duct-taped the balls of my feet and put on some socks. The sharks got a lot more curious. They’d swim right up to me near the surface, even if I was hanging on the side of the dinghy. A quick glancing blow with the spear gun sent them running. We finally gave in and let them have the reef. We weren’t doing so well anyways with only two groupers (one large and one small) for the day. Not that we didn’t try. Patrick and I spent hours in the water chasing groupers and parrots through the ravines and caverns of the reef. We dropped the carcass of a huge grouper to the bottom. The Grey Reef Sharks and huge snapper fought it out for the remains while we hid off to the side and watched. I wish one of those snapper would let me get close enough to shoot it. Another boat, Peter and Nikki on Bagheera arrived this morning and we all moved to the northwestern side of the lagoon in anticipation of a windshift. So far it’s the prettiest day we’ve had since arriving. In a half hour or so I’m putting my wetsuit on Margie and we’re heading out to snorkel the inside of the reef. It’s nice to be outside enjoying this place finally. Even though there’s a black cloud hanging over us from the loss of the dinghy, we’re doing our best to soak up the rays and go to sleep happy. I’m hopeful it’ll all work out in the end.

  • Draggin round Beveridge Reef

    This one is for the cruisers out there.

    I’m not leaving here till I get at least one calm, hot, sunny day! The wind hasn’t dropped below 20 knots in three days now. Normally that’s not a problem. It’s usually a good thing but with no land and a reef that submerges at high tide in front of us, I have finally found a challenge “old Bruce” (my oversized primary anchor) can’t live up to. The sand must be ultra-fine down there or something. This is the first time I’ve had a problem with my ground tackle dragging on Dosia. Right now, on my third set in three days, I have 150′ of chain out in less than 10′ of water (all sand, no coral). I’ve tried less, I’ve tried more…nothing seems to stick. We don’t suddenly start dragging and fly across the lagoon with the wind and current, anchor trailing out behind us. It’s a gradual thing. After twelve hours or so rocking and howling in the wind, we may move .04 miles backward. Not much I know but I don’t like the idea of moving AT ALL. I get a good set on the anchor every time. I can see it hit the bottom clear as day even at night, which happens to be when we’ve had to reset both times. Speaking of which, Margie and I have evolved in masters of the anchoring process. Marge takes her place at the helm and I’m on the bow. There’s no speaking or yelling back and forth, no radios, and no eye contact. She watches for my hand signals and steers the boat exactly as I need it. At night, I put on a headlamp and light up my hands so she can see my signals. It’s a work of art. Resetting in these conditions with 30 knots of wind in darkness but no other boats or obstacles in the way has been great practice for us. And it’s also reassured me that I did a good job setting up the anchoring system with massive backing plates, offset rollers, an oversized windlass, and substantial cleats for the snubbers. You can see good photos of the process on the “About the Boat” page. Everything is performing exactly as I intended it except, right now, my dependable Bruce anchor is not doing its job. Of course, it’s not the anchor’s fault. It’s mine. I’m asking it to perform in conditions where it does not excel. That’s why today, I’ll be pulling the CQR off my secondary rode and replacing it with my big Fortress anchor. The danforth design should dig in a lot better in this soft sand. It’s something I should have done two days ago. I don’t like the fact I’ll be using it with only 50′ of chain but there isn’t a coral head in sight on this sand bank as big as a football field so no worries about it chafing through. We’ll probably move over closer to Brickhouse, the only other boat out here so we can make new friends and talk to someone other than each other!

    The weather has somewhat cleared. At least the rain is no longer constant and I can usually find some area of the sky that is blue. I could probably go for some snorkeling today if I want to battle the wind and waves up to the reef in the dinghy. The forecast shows no break in the wind till Friday when a Low coming from the west sucks up all the breeze. Then, of course, that Low moves over top of us on Saturday, sending the wind counterclockwise meaning we’ll probably have to move to the other side of the lagoon. I’m beginning to wish we took the northern route and stayed away from all these Low pressure systems. No need to rush off to Niue before this Low. If it gains in strength it would make the anchorage there 10x worse than we’d ever get in here. Might as well wait it out and see. We have movies, games, tons of books, wine, and bacon. That’s all I need to survive. Plus, I haven’t touched my wallet in 7 days!

  • Being thankful for what ‘cha got…

    I finally managed to clean up my pile of tissues that had accumulated from the two hours of torture I inflicted on Drew that was “the Notebook”. Not really, he took it like a champ. Wish I could say that we’ve been diving in the wreck or snorkeling amongst massive schools of fish but some higher power is set on keeping us inside Dosia for days on end. At night, once the sun has set and hopefully the moon is providing an illuminated view of the reef we hear forcefully pounding out our windows, I find myself quickly donning a pair of long pajama pants, a long sleeve shirt, and wrapping myself from head to toe in a blanket. It’s cold. Okay, okay…my “idea” of cold has changed somewhat since having lived in French Poly for three months. For here, it’s cold. So to be honest, should a day finally produce some sunshine around here I’m not so sure the water temps are going to be anything I’m prepared to handle. I’ve actually been perfectly content holed up with Drew for a few days. Days which we have filled with movies, eating, books, drinking wine, more movies, and yesterday we taught ourselves to play rummy. While he says it’s about “expanding our horizons and learning something,” I really think Drew was just tired of having his keester handed to him time and time again by yours truly in Uno! He successfully kicked my ass yesterday in rummy and today’s attempts to get even will no doubt be intense.

    So in living on Dosia my “idea” of things changes on an almost daily basis. I’ve learned to live without some things and some things I’ve just had to learn to live with in a different way of that which I’ve always been accustomed, all the while realizing that I’m lucky to have any of this AT ALL. For instance, the head, a.k.a. the toilet. On Dosia, you do your business, close the lid, and to your left is a handle. You proceed to pump the handle up and down, up and down, up and down about fifteen to twenty times. In doing so, the vacuum formed in pumping is sucking water into the bowl, cleaning, and taking your business out as it goes. Too much? Nah. You can handle it. The other day Drew pulls out a spare toilet bowl lid. He says to me that while many might laugh at him for carrying a spare, should our existing one crack or anything happen to it, we wouldn’t be able to flush the toilet and we’d be up shit creek. Literally!

    Second example, the water. Dosia has two tanks that hold 90 gallons of water. That water gets into those tanks in one of three ways. It either 1)comes through the hose when we are docked, 2)we jerry jug it, or 3)we make it. Once the tanks are full our mission is to make that water last as long as possible. We never know if there will be a hose at the next dock we pull into or if the water on that particular island is even considered drinkable because sometimes it is unsanitary. Back home, I was not one of those people who was conscious of how much water I used in the shower, shaving, washing dishes, cooking…how quickly that has changed! When showering in our 2ft x2 1/2ft shower, you get in and turn on the water just long enough to get wet. In running the engine we can flip on the water heater and have a hot shower so from time to time we indulge as a treat to ourselves. After drenching myself I shampoo, shave, clean, and rinse before I turn the water on again and then it’s left on just long enough to wash away the suds. Showers over. It’s a quick process and depending on temps outside it can either be really refreshing or really chilly!

    If it sounds at all like I’m feeling sorry for myself or trying to gain sympathy points this is not the case at all. Believe me, we have it G-O-O-D out here and I am by no means roughing it. Some people we’ve come across don’t have a shower. Some people’s shower is over their toilet. Some people don’t have a toilet but a bucket instead. A BUCKET!!! Some people don’t have a fridge. A lot of people don’t have freezers which for them means that 95% of the time their meals consists of something from a can. Some people don’t have technological communications. Some people don’t have water makers so if they leave land with 90 gallons then they have to make that last until whenever they pull up to a water supply again. Our water maker, god bless it, makes one and a half gallons an hour. But you know what, that’s one and a half gallons more than we’d have if it wasn’t a luxury of ours.

    I think sometimes I write about these things not only for you but almost more for myself. As a reminder to me that anytime I get down or wish that something was “better” that there is always someone out there with less. Always. And who am I kidding, look at my tradeoff. There’s no 20 minute, hot shower in the world I’d swap for another chance to witness a whale putting on a show 50 yards from the boat. Nah, I’d definitely have to say I’m getting the better end of the deal…

  • Anchored inside Beveridge Reef

    We arrived at Beveridge Reef yesterday just after noon. The last day of sailing was crap compared to the first three days. It started raining in the middle of the night Friday and so far, it hasn’t stopped but for one hour long window the sun just happened to show itself and guide us safely across the lagoon. The fact there’s no land here, just reef, is still crazy as hell to me even though we’re anchored right here in the middle of it. It’s much larger here than I thought it would be. The lagoon is probably 2 miles across and double that north to south. It’s shaped somewhat like a kidney bean. There is a small wreck on the eastern side and we’re anchored south of it on a sand shelf in about nine feet of water. One other sailboat is in here about a half mile to our north. The reef is dead ahead about 200 yards so if the rain wasn’t stopping us from opening the hatches and windows we’d be listening to the soft, relaxing beat of waves crashing. As it happens, the weather is not so relaxing.

    Last night it started blowing hard. The perfect forecast I’d been staring at for the last week suddenly had a change of heart and formed a low just southeast of us. It looks like we’d be far enough west to avoid it but obviously we’ve not much luck when it comes to weather avoidance as of late. I feel really sorry for the folks who left Raro just behind us. Especially Chuck and Joan on Tender Spirit who departed on Thursday and are probably getting the crap kicked out of them. The wind is blowing in the 30-35 knot range, the rain is shootin’ sideways at us, and enough of the ocean swell is coming in over the reef to make it bouncy. I put an extra snubber on the anchor line early this morning in case we chafe through the first one. The great thing here is that if the anchor did break loose, we’d have plenty of time to unknowingly drift before we hit anything! It’s hard to say whether we’re better off in here since if we’d kept going we would certainly be far enough west to avoid this thing but it is nice to be anchored and sitting somewhat still. Of course, it’d be a lot nicer if I was snorkeling and diving in this crystal clear water instead hunkered down in our little home drinkin coffee listening to the wind howl through the rigging! After the sneak preview of what the water in this place looks like yesterday during our little sunshine window, there’s no way I’m leaving here till we get a chance to peek under the surface and see some wildlife.

    Speaking of wildlife, yesterday we finally saw one of my all time fantasies come to fruition. We were barely a half mile off the south side of the reef motoring around to the lagoon entrance. The rain had let up for a couple of minutes and was just a sprinkle. I was staring over at the breakers on the reef when directly in the middle of my field of vision a massive Humpback whale breached almost completely out of the water! It was so far above the surface I could see on its body where the skinny part of the tail started to widen into the flukes. It did a kind of a twist in mid air and land with a massive splash. I screamed “WHALE” and Marge came flying off the settee and up to the cockpit. There was at least one more humpback, maybe two, because as soon as she stepped foot on deck the second whale breached the surface and she got a great look at it. They danced on the surface for another minute or two before they calmed down and swam around shooting water out of their blowholes. We slowed down and waited, camera in hand, for another show but they finally dawdled off altogether and we lost sight. After talking to each other in Dory’s whale voice (“Finding Nemo” fans will know what I mean) for three days hopeful that we’d see one, Marge and I couldn’t believe our luck. It certainly goes down as one of the coolest things I’ve ever seen. The fact we’re in the middle of the ocean on our own boat next to a remote reef it took over three days to get to made it all the better. There’s no better way to appreciate such an experience and it will certainly go down in my long list of unbelievable things this trip has allowed me to see and do.

    Alright, looks like it’s time to wake Marge up and start movie day here on Dosia. It doesn’t look like this weather is calming down any time soon and I promised we’d watch “The Notebook” on the next rainy day.