Day after false start, wind dies as soon as the sails are up. We're close enough to turn around and re-anchor at a different spot.
Then we depart at last, gentle sailing and lots of motoring in oily calm, tried stopping at Rua Sura but a close call with reefs coming up from 25 to 3 meters definitely discourage us (too late in the afternoon for good visibility).
So on we go, another night sailing to Honiara. The morning after we pick up a mooring in front of the yacht club and can fnally taste meat again and cold beer (for me missing for almost a month).
Honiara is dusty and messy, but it's the last outpost of civilization as far as food and boat supplies are concerned. In a few days we gain an intimate knowledge of all the hardware/marine/paint stores. I also take off the windlass and take it to an engineering shop. It's working fine, but the plate attaching it to the deck have suffered eons of saltwater and high resistances, the aluminum is completely butted and corroded. The anchorages will be deep and the windlass quite important, so it needs care now.
Massive food provisioning, cans, flour, sugar, toilet paper, cleaning products, tang, one million plus items of all sorts. The engineering shop delays us a while (couple weeks...Solomon time), until we decided to spend the day at the engineering shop pushing the owner to get done with it. He does (an elder chinaman had to thread SS bolts on a lathe, what a master!). By now it's itching bad to leave (we had enough internet, ice-cream, beer, burghers, steak, cars, noise, pollution), so I just put back the windlass as it is (without a proper test, it turns after all) and leave for Savo, Russell, New Georgia. Had to buy a new PC in order to get C-map, then with the restore disc managed to revive the old Dell (who barely survived a tropical storm the year before), now without its own keyboard and screen. So I hook it up to a wireless keyboard and mouse and to the flat screen I received in Vanuatu, and so manage to have one computer now only dedicated to navigation safely nested in the chart table, away from any spray and not cluttering the nav station.
In Honiara one evening attempted pickpocket. Grabbed him by the neck and shaken thoroughly...must have been surprised at the 'uncompliant white tourist'. Other people hushed him away too.
Savo is a partially active volcano, it has no sheltered anchorage, but we've been told a pod of dolphins has residence there. After the usual motoring (no wind, again), we drop anchor on the SE side of it, nearby a village and in not-too corally bottom. TJ as his usual, immediately goes on mission to befriend the locals and find out just about everything there is to find out. Kids on canoes come around to look at us, the boat, but politely and without too much intrusion, as it happened before in S.ta Cruz. We try snorkle to the reputed 'dolphin cave', but the dolphins are nowhere to be seen, except when we're not in the water. We suffer a few days of rain and wind, but we are reasonably sheltered behind Savo and don't have to move...although without the bad weather we wanted to hike up to the live volcano vents up the mountain.
Weather clears and off to Russell. Light winds most of the way and then motor to make the anchorage nearby a cocoanut plantation. Got immediately swarmed by flies and canoes, some with friendly demeanour, some with raggamuffin teenagers checking out what to grab in the night...not much, sorry buddy.
Sorry, no cigarettes, sorry no alcohol, sorry no toys. The nice kids get a double treat of choccolate candies (and a tennis ball), for the others I've stopped letting them cajole me into giving stuff away just because...
The anchorage is very sheltered, but deep dark water and too many people around.
The wind is up next morning so we decide to take advantage of it. Windlass not spinning, breaker snapping, so it's up by hand (relaxing way to start the day).
We sail beautifully out the NE side, going by turquoise reefs by Lagholon Island.
Next big wish is stopping at Mborokua, another spent volcano with no people on it. Slow sailing again but no motor. Basicallly drifting with current more or less. The wind disappearance makes it too late to motor, once there we drift some more waiting for daylight. At dawn we're just couple miles off and we go investigate the bay entrance or find a fabled mooring on the W side. Needless to say the swell is huge and makes it impossible to get in the fairly exposed tiny bay, and the fabled mooring isn't really there. We motor all around it and what we see is stunning anyway: The island is ringed with flowers emanating a sweet perfume all around, coastline dropping to infinite depth, birdlife, fish jumping, all absolutely untouched and unanchorable.
We are forced to go on, determined to get to and anchorage by the afternoon. Unmarked on C-map and cruising guides (thanks to a tip in Honiara), we arrive early afternoon in a reef-enclosed perfect bay with tiny village and plenty fresh water (even a jetty) at the entrance of the Marovo lagoon.
We are approached by the first carvers wanting to display their wares...nice stuff but we're not interested, but they want to show it anyway. We notice the people here are beautiful.
Neither Melanesian, neither Polynesians, for some reason both men and women are very different (and much darker). Could be the ethnic influence of Bougainville, where people are said be the blackest on earth. Not hard to believe. After nearly two weeks we are happy to see a little general store, where we guzzle warm Coke and peanuts. While relaxing and smoking on the jetty a US expat woman of nearly 70 steps off a dive boat. Rather than introduce herself she starts barking that smoking isn't allowed anywhere on or around the jetty and store, even if everyone's been smoking there all afternoon, no drinking in town either (only ok for 'Nature lodge' guests).
"She brings dive business" is what makes her valuable here, although everyone despises her bossyness and silly 'civilizing' rules straight out of California. We soon acquired the locals' attitude: comply when she's there, do whatever when she isn't.
All the while trying to relax and enjoy (the Nazi is always in ambush) I take apart the windlass several times, finding only that the gearbox alignment is somehow not right (one week spent hauling the heavy motor in and out of a dark smoking-hot chain locker...ugh!).
We make friends anyhow and aren't pestered by canoes or whatnot, we can even top up our water tanks from the jetty with clear tasteless crystal water. Excellent.
Then we depart at last, gentle sailing and lots of motoring in oily calm, tried stopping at Rua Sura but a close call with reefs coming up from 25 to 3 meters definitely discourage us (too late in the afternoon for good visibility).
So on we go, another night sailing to Honiara. The morning after we pick up a mooring in front of the yacht club and can fnally taste meat again and cold beer (for me missing for almost a month).
Honiara is dusty and messy, but it's the last outpost of civilization as far as food and boat supplies are concerned. In a few days we gain an intimate knowledge of all the hardware/marine/paint stores. I also take off the windlass and take it to an engineering shop. It's working fine, but the plate attaching it to the deck have suffered eons of saltwater and high resistances, the aluminum is completely butted and corroded. The anchorages will be deep and the windlass quite important, so it needs care now.
Massive food provisioning, cans, flour, sugar, toilet paper, cleaning products, tang, one million plus items of all sorts. The engineering shop delays us a while (couple weeks...Solomon time), until we decided to spend the day at the engineering shop pushing the owner to get done with it. He does (an elder chinaman had to thread SS bolts on a lathe, what a master!). By now it's itching bad to leave (we had enough internet, ice-cream, beer, burghers, steak, cars, noise, pollution), so I just put back the windlass as it is (without a proper test, it turns after all) and leave for Savo, Russell, New Georgia. Had to buy a new PC in order to get C-map, then with the restore disc managed to revive the old Dell (who barely survived a tropical storm the year before), now without its own keyboard and screen. So I hook it up to a wireless keyboard and mouse and to the flat screen I received in Vanuatu, and so manage to have one computer now only dedicated to navigation safely nested in the chart table, away from any spray and not cluttering the nav station.
In Honiara one evening attempted pickpocket. Grabbed him by the neck and shaken thoroughly...must have been surprised at the 'uncompliant white tourist'. Other people hushed him away too.
Savo is a partially active volcano, it has no sheltered anchorage, but we've been told a pod of dolphins has residence there. After the usual motoring (no wind, again), we drop anchor on the SE side of it, nearby a village and in not-too corally bottom. TJ as his usual, immediately goes on mission to befriend the locals and find out just about everything there is to find out. Kids on canoes come around to look at us, the boat, but politely and without too much intrusion, as it happened before in S.ta Cruz. We try snorkle to the reputed 'dolphin cave', but the dolphins are nowhere to be seen, except when we're not in the water. We suffer a few days of rain and wind, but we are reasonably sheltered behind Savo and don't have to move...although without the bad weather we wanted to hike up to the live volcano vents up the mountain.
Weather clears and off to Russell. Light winds most of the way and then motor to make the anchorage nearby a cocoanut plantation. Got immediately swarmed by flies and canoes, some with friendly demeanour, some with raggamuffin teenagers checking out what to grab in the night...not much, sorry buddy.
Sorry, no cigarettes, sorry no alcohol, sorry no toys. The nice kids get a double treat of choccolate candies (and a tennis ball), for the others I've stopped letting them cajole me into giving stuff away just because...
The anchorage is very sheltered, but deep dark water and too many people around.
The wind is up next morning so we decide to take advantage of it. Windlass not spinning, breaker snapping, so it's up by hand (relaxing way to start the day).
We sail beautifully out the NE side, going by turquoise reefs by Lagholon Island.
Next big wish is stopping at Mborokua, another spent volcano with no people on it. Slow sailing again but no motor. Basicallly drifting with current more or less. The wind disappearance makes it too late to motor, once there we drift some more waiting for daylight. At dawn we're just couple miles off and we go investigate the bay entrance or find a fabled mooring on the W side. Needless to say the swell is huge and makes it impossible to get in the fairly exposed tiny bay, and the fabled mooring isn't really there. We motor all around it and what we see is stunning anyway: The island is ringed with flowers emanating a sweet perfume all around, coastline dropping to infinite depth, birdlife, fish jumping, all absolutely untouched and unanchorable.
We are forced to go on, determined to get to and anchorage by the afternoon. Unmarked on C-map and cruising guides (thanks to a tip in Honiara), we arrive early afternoon in a reef-enclosed perfect bay with tiny village and plenty fresh water (even a jetty) at the entrance of the Marovo lagoon.
We are approached by the first carvers wanting to display their wares...nice stuff but we're not interested, but they want to show it anyway. We notice the people here are beautiful.
Neither Melanesian, neither Polynesians, for some reason both men and women are very different (and much darker). Could be the ethnic influence of Bougainville, where people are said be the blackest on earth. Not hard to believe. After nearly two weeks we are happy to see a little general store, where we guzzle warm Coke and peanuts. While relaxing and smoking on the jetty a US expat woman of nearly 70 steps off a dive boat. Rather than introduce herself she starts barking that smoking isn't allowed anywhere on or around the jetty and store, even if everyone's been smoking there all afternoon, no drinking in town either (only ok for 'Nature lodge' guests).
"She brings dive business" is what makes her valuable here, although everyone despises her bossyness and silly 'civilizing' rules straight out of California. We soon acquired the locals' attitude: comply when she's there, do whatever when she isn't.
All the while trying to relax and enjoy (the Nazi is always in ambush) I take apart the windlass several times, finding only that the gearbox alignment is somehow not right (one week spent hauling the heavy motor in and out of a dark smoking-hot chain locker...ugh!).
We make friends anyhow and aren't pestered by canoes or whatnot, we can even top up our water tanks from the jetty with clear tasteless crystal water. Excellent.
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