September 25, 2007

Talkin’ ‘bout the weather;
On the way back to Savu savu on Monday, the bus ran into a misting rain as we came down the ridge toward the bay. Even though it’s the dry season, it seemed reasonable for there to be occasional showers. When it was still raining on Tuesday, we checked the weather maps to find that there was a big atmospheric trough running along the north side of the islands, causing a shift of the wind from southwest to northwest, and frequent rain showers. It’s now Saturday night. It’s still raining. The trough stretches from the Soloman Islands, 600 miles west of here, to the east side of Tonga, 500 miles to our east. And it’s stationary. The public water supply in town is brown, stained with the tannin of the leaves on the forest floor, as it leaches into the streams and even the shallow aquifers that feed the springs. Fortunately, we don’t need to take water from the taps. We can collect far more than we can use or store in a few hours of this rain. Can’t wash clothes though. Not much chance they’ll dry in less than a week. So much for the dry season.
There are a couple of problems with this situation. One is that we keep tracking water into the boat, and it won’t actually ever dry until the rain stops. The bunk and work counters are doing OK, but the floor rugs are getting a damp feel to them. Another is that we have an inverse power demand situation. The northwest wind is lighter than the usual trades, and doesn’t drive the wind generator much. The solar panels don’t get enough sun to make more than a tenth of their capacity. And with it not that pleasant out, we’re doing some reading, some writing on the computer, and some DVD watching. So we’re using more electricity and getting less than usual. That means I’m back to having to run the little generator to charge batteries, now up to 2 hours a day. But I don’t want it running out on the deck in the rain, so I’ve jury rigged a little shelter under the cockpit awning. Near the companionway door. It’s pretty quiet as generators go, but…… So, once again we encounter the universal truth; If you wanna play, you gotta pay. In this case, with a liter of fuel and two hours of 70 decibel background noise.
It’s been busy in town for us this week, with a couple more projects preparing for the sail north. One is the continuing battle to get an anchor windlass sent here from the supplier in Australia. It took me no less than five phone calls and two threatening emails to convince them to ship it on DHL rather than Fed Ex. The problem with Fed Ex here is that Carpenters, the customs agents who clear all their stuff in Suva appear to be thieves. I’ve experienced their “service” three times, trying to ship to Also Island from NZ, and other cruisers here have had similar experience. Virtually every shipment stalls in Suva, requiring extra fees, storage and handling charges, and sometimes a personal trip to the warehouse, to retrieve it. I’m not flying to Suva for my package. I priced having it shipped DHL, at the local agent. She quoted a 10 kilo Junior Jumbo shipping box at $105 from Australia. The invoice from the supplier just charged me $300 for DHL. I’ll sure be spreading the word about HIS service.
The other pressing issue is fuel for the cooking stove. We opted for an Origo alcohol absorption stovetop on Sequester, because it’s the simplest, least expensive, and I believe safest boat stove on the market. We researched availability of industrial alcohol, or “methylated spirits” before we got it, and found that most hardware and paint stores carry it. We found it, at varying prices, from the Caribbean to the USA to Panama, and across the Pacific. When other yachts were fretting about compatible filling valves for propane cylinders, we were pouring a little alcohol into our canisters. Until now. Here in Fiji they’ve had a rash of folks drinking the stuff, poisoning themselves. So it’s now next to impossible to get a license to sell it. We’re now pursuing the last option, a pharmacy supplier in Lautoka, on the other big island. We’ll know next week if they can let us buy 10 liters. It would be a bit of a kick if we had to sail 300 miles to windward, to American Samoa, to go to the hardware store in Pago Pago for alcohol. So, the quest for a perfect place continues apace. But it’s the journey, not the destination that we must enjoy. Life is good. Ted