Ship's time is still on Raiatea time, so it's around 4am when I get up for my watch and there is a glow on the horizon 10 nm in front that I hope is Vava'u. We have to go around the side of the island and then back all the way into a long indent where the port area is.
I am not overly enthused about the check-in requirements, which mean tying up to a commercial wharf. I'd have thought they would have something a little more yacht-friendly.
The last 24-hour run was 146 nm, and we had much the same weather as the rest of the passage, i.e. 12knts to the mid-20s, occasional rain and gloomy periods followed by sunshine.
Apparently, the cold we are experiencing is indirectly an El Niño influence. The exact mechanics are a little beyond me, but El Niño helps shift the location and behaviour of the large anticyclones, and the circulation around them is sucking a nice stream of cold air north and straight into my cabin.
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| If you look closely the is a darker black strip - Vavau |
It's funny because after 1,400 nm of sea, an island 10 nm away seems almost too close for comfort and makes me a little nervous.
I think it's because when we started out, there was no such thing as chartplotters and we had to put pencil crosses on a photocopied chart. I definitely wouldn't have been approaching an island in pitch-black conditions with the confidence we do today.
The technology is great, but I think it can get you into as much trouble as it gets you out of. We are only a blown fuse or poor connection away from being completely lost!