In April 2019, I set out to sail across Tasman Sea, from
Auckland (NZ) all the way to Gold Coast, on a 44 ft Beneteau s/y Ocean Gem. This
post will describe the sailing, another will account for my experiences on NorfolkIsland, and the third will tell about the anchoring adventures.
There are less people who have sailed across Tasman Sea than
there are people who’ve been up on Mt Everest, and there is a good reason why.
The weather there is highly unpredictable, and no weather report can be trusted
– something I got to experience first hand. The sea stretches from the 30th
parallel, all the way to just south of 55°. So if
you look at the southern part of Tasman Sea, you’ll see that nothing is there to
stop the winds blowing from the Roaring Forties, from the Screaming Fifties –
and all the way from Antarctica. The many weather systems, including depressions
and cyclones normally travelling from the West, will enter Tasman Sea and
result in freezing Antarctic winds and high swells, sometimes against a
countercurrent making the waves even steeper.
 |
| Weather change coming along swiftly |
The trip I was attempting is over 1400 nautical miles,
which means anything between 7 and 14+ days depending on weather and the setup
of the boat, and there are no possible stops for fuel, food or shelter along
the way except the island of Norfolk, a stop which may cause more difficulties
than it may solve. Most sailors would instead go North towards New Caledonia,
Fiji or Vanuatu, and take the shorter and more predictable and comfortable
route from there – avoiding this area (also called “The Ditch”) altogether.
Tasman Sea is 5,493 deep, the bottom consisting of
globigerina ooze. Globigerina is plankton which has populated the world’s
oceans since the Middle Jurassic. There are many sea mountains, rising from a
few thousand meters to just a few hundreds. Also, there’s a reef or two that
are not visible during high tide (and not at all when there is lack of light).
There is a multitude of shipwrecks at Middleton Reef alone, and a family that were
on a yacht that got wrecked on the reef were stranded there for 6 weeks, living
in the remains of an old shipwreck to get protection from the elements.
 |
| Blue waves of the Tasman Sea, on a calm day |
I landed in Auckland on the 1st of April, after
over 24 hours of travelling from Sweden. I crewed on s/y Ocean Gem, joining
David, a skipper whom I have preciously competed in RSHYR with. I now crewed as
Second In Command for this passage – a great opportunity to do some training
for the coming RSHYR in December 2019.
The arrival day was spent organizing the provisions on
board, and going through the medical kits to get them settled for the safety
check before departure. Both activities were very useful, making sure I knew
exactly what was located where. The two other crew arrived later that day,
completing our team of 4. The day was concluded with a full safety walkthrough
of the boat together.
In the morning of 2nd of April, the safety check
was conducted by the NZ authorities. All jobs on board were completed, and we
headed off to the Royal New Zealand Yacht Squadron to have a look at America’s
Cup displayed at the headquarters, along with all other prizes, trophies,
paintings, banners and memorable objects. The whole team got admittance to
Members Only Bar, where we enjoyed a few drinks and an evening meal, with
superb views of the sea, including the former America’s Cup boats that were out
and about!
 |
| America's Cup on display at RNZYS |
 |
| Watching America's Cup boats in the background - after having a look at the actual America's Cup. On photo: Lena Padukova, aka Adrenalena |
We sailed off at 10 am on the 3rd of April, after
I was hoisted up the mast to adjust some rigging, while the customs clearing out
took place. Before setting sail, we removed the main and replaced one of the
slugs that had been broken. There are considerable forces on these, and they are
made to be broken easier than the sail itself, acting as sacrificial protection
to the main.
 |
| Selfie from the mast, after adjusting the rigging |
The crispy sunny morning weather gave us a few photo
opportunities before prompt changing to gray clouds and rain. The weather
report showed clearly how the rain system will follow us all the way to the
North Cape of New Zealand, changing to 25-30 (or more) knots of wind and up to
4 meters of swell. This promised some serious sailing, potentially very
strenuous for crew and gear both.
 |
| Bye bye Auckland! |
As we progressed northwards along the coast, nothing prepared us for any surprises. But suddenly, we
lost our steering ability! The wind caught the sails and we crash gybed, but
managed to engage emergency steering very fast, turned around and went to the nearest
marina, which happened to be the Gulf Harbour Marina. Well docked there, we found
the cause of the problem. The last reparation service of the steering cable, which was carried out in northern New Zealand, was
done incorrectly.
The repair was made again in the morning and off we went
again! The breakdown set us back almost a day, but this meant that the rain
systems had passed and the wind and swell was going to have calmed down as we
would enter the open sea, which was good news – there’s far less risk sailing
with slighter weather and seas. Dolphins accompanied us in the evening, a sign
of good luck!
 |
| Sailing on! |
We steered manually and run night shifts of two hours.
Tricky steering as the moon was new and the stars were hidden by clouds,
impossible to fix on anything on the horizon as everything was in almost
complete darkness. The next morning brought slightly chilly winds (which called
for a hot breakfast) with a lot of sun and some beautiful seas! We passed Cape North in the afternoon, seeing
Cape Reinga in the distance, a beautiful moment. The next day, some whales made
us company. Wind was unfortunately absent, so we motored a bit South of our
intended course in order to pick up the S breeze that was promised by the
weather reports. The night came with very little wind and quite a bit of rain.
On the next day, the 7th of April, we finally
managed to pick up the wind, and sail goose-winged with the genoa poled out.
The wind picked up as the day progresses, and we surfed down the waves making
10-11 knots! Unfortunately, this was the day when the autopilot gave up. This
meant now that we could not leave the helm at all, as the 25 knots’ wind on the
aft is just too happy to gybe at any moment. I stayed at the helm until 8 pm,
and divided the rest of the night into 3 hours shifts for me and the skipper
only, as the helming has become increasingly tricky. However, as I woke up for
my shift, I was told that I am relieved, and would be called when it’s time. I
tried an hour later, and same answer followed Turned out that the wind had
picked up, defying anything that the weather report stated, and continued at up
to 25 knots the whole night, which closed the possibilities for sail change,
and meant that a crash gybe was a constant risk, and a potentially extremely
dangerous one at this weather. David helmed manually the whole night, as he was
far most used to the boat and managing these conditions. What an effort!
Just before sunrise, the wind dropped to just below 20 knots
and we managed to gybe and execute the sail change, however managing to first
furl the genoa around the forestay (and save it), and then to drop the genoa
into the water. The halyard got stuck in the rudder and needed to be cut;
luckily it did not get fouled further, and could be reused (however becoming a
bit shorter). By the effort of three crew, we manage to pull up the sail, heavy
from the water on top of it. We continued by main alone, which was enough to
power the boat at this point. I took the helm, and we finally arrived to the
island of Norfolk around lunchtime on the 8th of April.
 |
| Approaching Norfolk in a bit of swell. |
There is a separate post about Norfolk Island and another one about our adventures and challenges there. We managed to sail off on the 10th of April, after spending a lot of time trying to get away!
 |
| Off the anchor, and soon ready to go - Cascade Bay off Norfolk Island. |
And finally we were sailing Westwards again. Sun and light winds gave us ease of mind. After about half a
day, wind changed to more favourable. We motor sailed and listened to music. It
felt like we could do with a few days of monotonous sailing to make up for the
eventful days.
The only dramatic moments consisted of a freak wave breaking alongside
of the boat and drowning the cockpit, including me at the helm and David who
was peacefully sleeping on one of the benches – what a horrible way to wake up!
Some other "dramatic" highlights include a cuttlefish flying into the cockpit and
slapping David who was standing in the companionway; a flying fish jumping
straight over the boat – and another one landing on my foot when I was helming.
 |
| Another beautiful sunset at Tasman Sea! |
Just as the inhabitants of island of Norfolk, we’re running low on milk,
which meant we needed to find creative solutions for breakfasts - and also needed to ration fuel as we only managed to refuel 40 litres. When the wind was too weak, we'd turn on the engine, but run it just enough to reach our target speed, so we would not run low. We emptied the extra fuel we carried in jerry cans into the tank. It had to be done having to balance on the transom in the swell, always a bit risky in case a wave would break against the aft and flood the tank as well as wash away the jerry cans, but there was no drama at all and we were once again somewhat filled up.
 |
| Hitting 1,000 nautical miles! Almost two thirds done. We celebrated with ginger sodas in champagne glasses. |
On the 11th, I noticed that the topping lift was gone,
but that was not an urgent issue as long as we could use the main, even fully
reefed. The days were spent sleeping, eating, doing a few minor
housekeeping/repair jobs, and of course helming. By this time, my arms and
fingers were swollen, and wrists getting tender – over a week of active manual
helming can have that effect. A few days further, my fingers would become numb.
All of that naturally disappeared after the sailing is over and I could have a rest of more than a few hours. I was however very happy to
get a possibility to do all the manual helming in these quantities, both to get
the training by volume instead of just using the autopilot, and to get used to
the physical effect and analyse how it progresses. I had sailed across the
Pacific helming manually in larger volumes, a couple of weeks with waves of 4-5
meters and constant four-hour on/off watches, but I have managed to forget the
physical effect it can has.
 |
| Att the helm, in the end of a night watch, the sun rises as it is time to finally get some rest. |
The wind was definitely not behaving as the weather report
predicted. Especially during the nights, it would change dramatically in
strength and direction – suddenly changing over 40 or 50 degrees. During an
overcast night, with no stars, moon or horizon, these wind changes can get you very
disorientated. A lot of motor sailing had to be done, so we could make a decent
speed towards Gold Coast – otherwise we’d spend many more days in the Tasman
Sea, thus risking more unpredictable weather, more wear and tear, and also run
out of food... and eventually, I could even miss my flight home.
The last two days there was a bit more action. Rain systems
with beautiful rainbows, Milky Way and falling stars, a waterspout going our
way, a warship VHFing a boat ordering them to stop immediately so they can get
on board and “enforce Australian law”, a Black Hawk from another warship
circling our boat (we asked them whether we could assist them, the answer was a negative).
 |
| Sailing among rainbows in western Tasman |
As we were running low on fuel, we decided to change to a lighter
sail, a gennaker, during the last day. As the bowsprit is missing, we made it
fast directly onto the bow, a solution that chafed through pretty soon but we
managed to save the sail and set it again.
We were chasing our way to Gold Coast with some great
gennaker sailing, but the rain clouds were chasing us! The wind picked up, and
there was some fun to be had at the bow as we changed to genoa, and flew further. But
then suddenly the wind dropped – and turned against us.
 |
| Cruising among dark clouds, wind changing to all possible directions... |
This was a race against
time – we had made an appointment with the customs as they drove all the way
from another city to meet us up at the dock and clear in.
Finally, we got some good wind, and sailed into the glorious
sunset to the sounds of Australian national anthem. I was frankly a bit
unprepared to see land, and I got overwhelmed by the beauty of the moment and the epic views. It
felt unreal. After everything that has happened - we’re finally here!
 |
| Sailing into the sunset on Gold Coast, Australia |
We sailed into the seaway in the darkness, but there were
people on the wall to meet us! With torches, honks and shouts they welcomed Ocean Gem back to its home port. An amazing welcome, another unreal and very heartwarming moment.
The last setback waited at the dock. It turned out that the
Health and Quarantine inspector, despite being informed and prompted about our
arrival, did not care to come out at this time. That meant we were stuck at
the quarantine dock until some time tomorrow morning. For me, it did not really
matter. But for our skipper, who had come home to his home port after being
away at sea for 5 weeks, it was a bitter blow. Family and friends had come to
meet him, and were standing on the dock arm ready to come on board, but because
the boat was not cleared in by Quarantine they could not even give him a hug.
That was heartbreaking to watch.
 |
| Finally there! Southport Yacht Club in Gold Coast. |
We were finally cleared in by about 11 am on the 15th
of April, and docked in front of Southport Yacht Club. Our skipper could get home, the crew were preparing for travelling further, and I was soon to make my way to the airport and go back home for this time.
This sailing leg was 1681 nautical miles, and became a part of my continued circumnavigation. One of my top passages
ever – I loved the adventure, the challenges and the new experiences. Once
again, a pleasure and a privilege sailing with David on Ocean Gem. I will be
back on the boat in December, competing in this year’s Sydney to Hobart – my second to go!
