Saturday, June 1, 2013

Building a Hard Bimini for Galena

I decided to build a hard bimini for Galena.

When I bought Galena she had an open cockpit; No bimini and no dodger. After a year or so I decided I needed to get out of the sun and so built a soft bimini. It was made of Sunbrella stretched forward from the stern mounted boom gallows to a set of aluminum bows mounted on the coach roof. The bimini covered the enter of the cockpit and the companionway hatch.

This cloth bimini was about five feet wide and ten feet long and it worked fairly well. When new the Sunbrella fabric was waterproof and thus kept some of the rain out of the cockpit and companionway. But being only 5 feet wide it didn't really cover the 'seating area' of the cockpit. For those who don't know the design of a Westsail32 the cockpit is really just a footwell; you sit on the deck around the edges of the footwell. For the most part one was not under the bimini. The bimini did provide some shade for at least one side of the cockpit. I tried to use the bimini as a rain catcher; fresh water being somewhat scarce where I cruise. But being cloth it flapped in the wind, throwing any rain off before I could direct it into buckets.

Here are two photographs of the old cloth bimini. One from the outside and one from the inside.


The original cloth bimini. It gave some shade but little protection from rain.



This view shows the underside of the old cloth bimini


In the years after I first built that bimin I'd had to replace or repair it several times. The cloth would lose it's water-resistance and also it would eventually begin to tear from exposure to wind and sun. Also the main boom was low enough to allow the sail cover to rub along the top surface, wearing away the threads of the seams. Finally I just gave up on it.

For the past year I've sailed without any cover over the cockpit. The result has been lots of sunburn. Additionally, whenever it rains I have to close my main hatch and put in the drop boards and that really reduces comfort below. And I really need a rain catchment system as the local water is often unappealing.

Recently two of my cruising friends here in Fiji (s/v's Drifter and Mambo) decided to build hard biminis of fiberglass coated plywood for their boats. I watch Arnold on Drifter build his and then I watched as Heinz on Mambo began his design process. It didn't look all that hard. With so much expertise and help at hand I decided to finally build a similar top for Galena.

The first thing I had to do was to draw up some plans. This wasn't the first time I'd considered a hard bimini so I wasn't really starting from scratch. There were several considerations:
- For support I decided to use the existing aluminum framework along with the aft-mounted boom gallows. I therefore had to dimension it to fit in the same space as the old cloth bimini.
- On passage I carry my hard dinghy on the coachroof. When it's in the davits, the dinghy's stern extends over some of the companionway opening. I had to leave room for the dinghy to be hoisted into position on its deck davits. - I wanted something a bit wider than what I had before but I still had to be able to walk around the side decks. So the maximum allowable width would be about 6 feet.
- The bimini had to be capable of catching rain and directing that water into deck jugs; even when windy.

After taking a lot of measurements I decided that I'd need a bimini with a finished size of 6-ft by 10-ft.

The plywood was available locally. Using 6mm (1/4") sheets of exterior grade plywood would result in a nice compromise between strength and light-weight. Rather than minimizing waste, I decided to go for maximum strength and that meant minimum number of joints. To get that I'd need three sheets of plywood. The available plywood sheets, being cut to metric measurements, are just a little smaller than the standard 4' by 8' sheets I'm used to. The three sheets cost about US$ 90 total.

The epoxy resin was also available locally in the brand name of Resene. It is similar to West System but mixed at 4:1. Cost was US$ 125 per gallon. I'd need two gallons.

Fiberglass cloth was not available locally. The local hardware stores had glass mat and some heavy woven cloth available. But I wanted relatively fine 200g cloth. That I had to order New Zealand. While ordering the cloth I also ordered epoxy fillers. I'd need 8 liters of Microlight and 4 liters of Colloidal Silica. Cost including shipping was US$ 250.

One gallon of two-part polyurethane paint, white, was available locally at a cost of US$ 125.

Some lumber and incidentals added another couple hundred to the tab. Final cost was about US$ 800.

The construction took about 4-weeks working about 4 hours a day. There were two reasons for the short workday: I could only do so much before I had to stop and wait for the epoxy to go off, and it gets very hot in the afternoons here in the tropics.

Most of the work was done on the porch of the Savusavu Marina office.

I like my little marina, but before you get the wrong image in your head, let me show you the place.


This is the office for the Savusavu marina. You can see the biminis for Galena and Mambo on the porch 'workshop.'



And this is the marina's only wharf. To the far right is Galena at her mooring. And to the far left about 3/4-mile away you can see the Copra Shed Marina.


I also had the help of my good friends Jeff and Jose (s/v Stravaig). They are very experienced in fiberglass work. In fact they had built their own boat several years back. Jeff helped me with the details of the design. His wife, Jose, is an artist with glass cloth. In fact most of the glass work was actually done by Jose while I was relegated to mixing pots of resin and taking notes.


Plywood sheets.

The first step was to cut the plywood sheets to size. From the three sheets I needed thee sections: 6'x4', 6'x4', and 6'x2'. They would be joined on their long sides resulting in a single sheet 6'x10'. That also resulted in a lot of waste: three sections 2'x4' and one 6'x2'. The latter would be used to construct the cross beams so that one wasn't really wast.

Once these plywood sections were cut I laminated them on both sides with 200g fiberglass cloth. One of the first things I learned from Jose about handling fiberglass cloth was how to cut it. In order to get a clean and straight edge one first pulls a thread out of the weave at the place you want to cut it. This creates a line to follow along the weave of the cloth thus virtually eliminating fraying. Then one cuts it with very sharp scissors.


Pulling a thread out of the fiberglass cloth to make a cut line



Cutting the cloth along the line made by pulling out a thread


To laminate the plywood with fiberglass the wood is first saturated with epoxy resin. The mix is pure epoxy for flat surfaces. When the cloth must be contoured around a corner or other shape one thickens the epoxy with some colloidal silica. This thickens the epoxy and makes it 'sticky.' The cloth then adhears to the wood and wraps nicely around any curve. Next the cloth is laid in place. Finally more resin is squeeged over the glass saturating it and removing any excess resin. One has to take care not to distort the cloth. Jose was constantly scolding me for 'adjusting' the cloth after it was in place.


Jose and Jeff wetting-out the plywood and laying on the fiberglass cloth


Once all three sections were covered with fiberglass cloth on one side I had to wait until the next day to do the same on the other sides. This waiting for the resin to go off would be the project's biggest consumer of time.

Crossbeams.

I wanted the surface to be slightly curved from left to right while straight in the fore and aft directions. To achieve the desired curvature I raised the center of the bimini about 2". I planned to place four beams across the bimini to give support and form the desired curve of the surface. These beams were constructed from plywood arcs roughtly 1.5" high, 1/2" thick, and the full 6' long. I rough cut eight plywood strips in the desired arc with a jigsaw. Then I glued two 1/4 inch thick arcs together to form the four 1/2" thick beams. Using a Surform plane I carefully shaped one beam to the 'perfect' size/arc. Using that one as a template I went out to s/v Stravaig and used Jeff's router to machine the others to match.


Jeff using his router to shape the beams on board Stravaig.


Assembly.

In the yard next to the marina office was an large boat trailer. It's shape and size lent itself to being the initial construction bed for the bimini. By placing some weights in the middle the plywood it bowed nicely into almost the proper shape.


All the parts are laid out on the trailer. The three sections of plywood, the butt blocks, and the cross beams. I've also placed the boom gallows board at the far end and the bows at the near end. Yes, it's upside down.


I joined the three sections together using simple butt joints with 4" strips of plywood forming the butt blocks. These butt blocks were glued and glassed into position while the plywood sheets were held to the desired curve by the cross beams and some weights in the center of the sections. As with most of the construction I'd use stainless steel screws to hold the parts in place until the epoxy would set. Then the screws were removed and the holes filled with epoxy. Most of the epoxy used was first thickened with colloidal silica thickener (West Systems 406)

The aft-most beam was special in that it included a large surface that would be bolted to the existing boom gallows board. That would fix the bimini in place at the stern. It was also notched to provide clearance for the brackets holding the boom gallows board to the stainless steel arch at Galena's stern.


Here I'm putting a fillet of colloidal-thickened epoxy resin along the aft-most beam.


All of the cross beams and butt-blocks were covered in fiberglass cloth for both strength and weather-proofing.

Once all the epoxy had gone off I moved everything to the marina porch. There was an old wooden dingy on the porch and that would become my construction table for the rest of the project. In the picrure below my bimini is standing against the wall while Heinz (s/v Mambo) works on one half of his bimini. Mambo is a large catamaran so his bimini was almost three times the size of Galena's.


My bimini is against the wall behind Heinz who is working on half of the bimini for Mambo, his large catamaran


After placing a for-aft beam in the center of the bottom I used Microlight (West Systems 410) filled epoxy resin to fill-in the weave of the fiberglass cloth covering all the wood surfaces. A light sanding left a very smooth surface for painting.


Bottom surface after sanding the Microlight. Almost ready for paint.


The top side of the bimini required a raised edge on all sides to both stiffen it and to catch rainwater. I opted for a rail of 1x2 inch lumber. This was a bit of overkill. It should have been only 1-1/2 inches tall. Less than that would have let the water overflow in a downpour.

In order to get the front and rear end rails to bend to the desired curve I had to cut kerfs up from the bottom every 6 inches along their lengths. The side rails had their bottoms milled (using Jeff's power planer) at a slight angle to allow them to stand vertically on the edge of the sloping top surface. All the side and end rails were radiused on the top edge. I also added a glassed 1x1 inch foam beam (left over from Mambo's bimini) down the center to for additional stiffness.


Top surface just before wrapping the side rails with glass.


The glass that would wrap around the side rails would extend down and around the edge of the plywood. Therefore I had to radius the edges of the plywood to allow the glass to take that bend. Jeff helped by using an angle grinder to do the rough shaping and I followed up with a Surform plane to smooth it out.


Jeff radiusing the edge before glassing the rails. The glass would wrap all the way from the top surface, around the side rails, and on to the bottom surface.


The forward end of the bimini would be held up by the old aluminium bow system, but would be somewhat unsupported torsionally. I added some pad eyes at each forward corner to allow me to tie cross-brace lines down to the coach roof for stability.

Sanding and prep for painting.

Once the bimini construction and fiberglassing was finished I began the sanding phase. There is always some excess epoxy on the surface of the fiberglass. And that must be sanded off without cutting into the fiberglass cloth itself. Also at all places where the glass cloth overlaps other fiberglassed areas the exposed edge has to be reduced a little to allow feathering of the edge.

I used 60 grit sandpaper and a small block of wood to do all this sanding. Smoothing the large surfaces were easy. Mostly there were just a few drips and laps to sand. The problem was the corners. There were 18 corners on this thing and each was a pure pain the butt to smooth out. But all I had to do was knock off the high spots.

Speaking of the corners Jose showed me a neat trick for glassing a corner. First of all you stop the main glass running up to the corner about 1/2" from the actual corner. Then you cut a circle of glass cloth. The circle will, with a little dabbing from a 1" brush, form itself nicely into that corner.

Once all the high spots were sanded down, I started the second-to-last phase: filling.

To achieve a very smooth surface one has to fill the weave of the glass with epoxy and then sand that epoxy smooth. Pure epoxy is extreamly hard so one uses a soft powdery additive (Microlight, West Systems 410) to reduce the density of the epoxy making it much easier to sand. The process is to squeege the thickened epoxy (thickened to the consistance of peanut butter) over the surface being sure to press it into the cloth. Then wipe it away with a metal squeege leaving only the weave filled. Along the edges and in the corners I used my fingers to spread a smooth layer of epoxy.

Once this hardens (here with the high humidity it often took two days to become hard enough to sand) you sand it smooth. With 80 grit paper it sands very quickly. Most of what is applied is sanded away leaving a very smooth surface.

With every other phase of construction I always had the excuse that mistakes could be corrected or covered up with the next phase. When a piece of wood was cut too short I'd think, "It's OK, I can cover that up with fiberglass." When the glass was a bit wavy I'd think, "I can fill that later with the sanding filler."

But then I started the Microlight filling phase. Even I know that pain never hides or covers up anything. All it does is hightlight mistakes. I knew that I was going to be staring up at the bottom of this bimini for the next several years. I didn't want a badly filled seam shouting at me, "Why didn't you spend just a little more time on me? I'd have disappeared!" So I was determined to spend the time required to make this as 'right' as possible.

The process is: fill with epoxy. Wait for it to harden. Sand it off. Look for imperfections. Fill them with epoxy. Sand it off. Look for imperfections. Repeat.


Here's a picture of me sanding the Microlight filling epoxy off the top of the bimini.


And here I'm sanding a central corner on the underside of the bimini


While I was still sanding Heinz had finished his painting. Here he's joining the two halves of his bimini. It's about 20 feet wide and 7 feet deep.


Heinz joining the two halves of his bimini.


Painting.

Once the surfaces were as smooth as I could make them (actaully I simply got sick and tired of filling and sanding) it was on to painting.

Of course as soon as I was ready to paint Fiji suffered a week of squalls with high winds and heavy rain. But eventually things dried out and I got on with my project.

I used an APCO brand two-part polyurethane paint in white. Proper rollers are unavailable here in Fiji so I used what was at hand. The results were acceptable but not great.

I stood the bimini on it's edge against the poles on the porch. That allowed me to paint both sides at once, reducing the time spent waiting for the paint to dry. The only part I couldn't paint was the lower edge. When I had two coats on both top and bottom I placed the bimini back on the table and painted the edge.


Two views of the bimini after it was painted

Installation.

I brought my dinghy up to the dirt boat ramp. Hienz and I carried the bimini out and placed it on my dinghy. I fitted a lifting bridle in place and we towed it out to Galena. Once along side I used the main haliyard winch to hoist the bimini up and swing into position over the cockpit. It dropped into postion without any fuss.


The new hard bimini in place on Galena.


View from the bottom showing the structure and supports

I have about 2.5" of headroom when standing in the cockpit and that's enough.

All that is left is to secure it into place and install the plumbing for the rainwater. In the future I may install virtical supports at each foward corner. But aside from that it's done.

Tuesday, January 15, 2013

Return to Savusavu, Fiji

Return to Savusavu, Fiji
07 January 2013

As I've noted earlier, since Cyclone Evan tore up Musket Cove, the place just isn't much fun anymore. The (new) owners told me that repairs to facilities for yachties are at the bottom of the list. The Island Bar and the main wharf repairs will not even be started until May or June. That, and I'm the only yachtie left on the island. The others have gone elsewhere for the season.

With just a little urging from my friends at Savusavu, and the promise of a safe storm mooring, I've decided that I'll sail back and there spend the remainder of cyclone season. The route along the south coast of Viti Lavu is a bit longer than that around the north coast. And it's generally to windward. But it's open enough to allow sailing at night. And I want to get this passage over with as soon as possible.

I'm up at about 5:30, 8 January 2013, and I cast off from my mooring at about 7AM. I had to wait for enough sunlight to visually avoid the many patches of coral surrounding Musket Cove.

First problem I encounter is that Galena's engine is still starving for fuel... sometimes. As I motorsailed out of Musket Cove on Monday morning the engine sounded fine. For about 5 minutes. Then it started to surge and act like a diesel unable to get enough fuel. I thought I had resolve this. It was running fine yesterday. But today it's still 'broken.'

I thought about turning back and picking up my mooring and working on the engine to find the problem. About then it sorted itself out and began to run smoothly. Screw it, I'm going. I called s/v Stravaig on the phone and told Jose I was on my way.




Musket Cove is lower left, Savusavu is upper right, Track is red line


As soon as I motorsailed out through the opening in the reef I knew this was not really a nice day for a sail. The seas out there were 8-feet and the wind chop was another 3-feet on top of that. The wind and waves and current were from the southeast and of course I'm heading southeast for the first 30-nm of this passage. With wind and waves and current against me I really needed my engine to assist. But it would only run at about 50% power. Tacking back and forth I was only making about 3-kts through the water and only about 1.7-kts VMG.

The reefs around Fiji are nasty. The whole way around Viti Lavu I had reefs to my left. I wanted to stay at least a mile off but the further off-shore I go, the longer the trip.

I had planned on making the turn north at the southeast corner of Viti Lavu by dawn of day 2. In actuality it was the evening of Day 2 when I made that turn to the north and began actually sailing downwind.

Ahh, the evening of day 2. Tuesday. At about 5:30 I was watching the reef go by to my north when I suddenly realized that the water I was sailing through was muddy brown. Strange. I've been in deep blue water most of the past couple of years. Why was this water so brown? Shit, I wonder how deep it is. Now, Galena's depth sounder is very old. It only has a range of about 400 feet. After that it just goes a little nuts and starts throwing up random numbers. So for that reason I usually switch it off whenever I head off-shore. I switched it on and after a bit of start-up time it said, "42 feet." I was shocked! This can't be! The depth here should be over 1000-ft. I saw blue water to my front right. I had to get into deeper water.

I was about to turn toward what I thought would be deep, safe water as the depth sounder continued to read, "47, 53, 74, 68, 55" when my Raymarine Tiller Pilot (my electric autopilot) began making loud, clunking sounds. Within a minute the tiller was slamming stop to stop; the autopilot was suddenly broken. OK, have to replace it with my spare. Now, where is that spare... First, get Galena to deep water.

Just then there was loud noise from just over head. The mainsail boom suddenly swung around and smashed into the stays. I look and see that the boom bail has broken. The mainsheets were dragging in the water and the boom was swinging wildly about. I had to get that under control before it caused more damage. And I had to get to deeper water. As the autopilot was no longer steering Galena she had begun to swing away to the south. Then the 130% genny was backwinded and swung the bow completely around.

By now it's about 5:35. I dropped the mainsail and roped the boom in. I would have to wrap a bit of line around the end of the boom and attach the mainsheet to that. As I pulled the boom in I grabbed hold of the boom gallows at Galena's stern. The wooden piece with the notches for the boom broke off in my hand. Damn near fell overboard! The brackets that held the wooden gallows to the support bow had broken off. I threw the wood piece to the deck and finally wrestled the boom in and tied it off. Then I dropped the backwinded headsail to slow down Galena's motion toward the reef.

That's when Galena's engine decided to simply quit. So there I was, this is no shit, Wind and current pushing me toward a very nearby reef, no mainsail, no power, shallow water. I had had a bad few minutes.

So I got a bit of rope around the end of the boom and re-attached the mainsheet. Then I raised the mainsail. That gave me some motion and that gave me steerage. I turned Galena's bow south and headed toward deeper water and away from the reef. Then I raised the headsail and that gave me some speed (3 kts). I managed to get the engine limping again and that brought my speed up to 4-kts.

I'm looking at my chartplotter and seeing very little detail for this area. Should have been more info but wasn't. Just low-res charts. Then I remembered that I had not planned on heading back this way. I had removed all the charts of areas east of Musket Cove and installed the charts for areas to the west. I had just base-line charts for this area. Great!

Then I look closely at the depth sounder. Remember I said that after about 400 ft it just put up random numbers? It was actually saying four-point-two feet, five-point-eight feet. I was in deep water. I just had a demented depth sounder. And I was too groggy from lack of sleep to have understood what I was seeing.

It's getting dark as I make the turn to the north. With the reefs so close at hand I had not been able to sleep in the past 36 hrs. I was tired. I still had reefs to my left as I headed north toward Ovalau. I also had some shipping traffic to deal with. So again, I couldn't sleep this night, either.

By dawn I had passed through the cut in the reef at Makongai. I had 5-hrs of open water ahead of me. I went below, curled up on the port settee, and slept off and on for most of that five hours.

The passage around Namena reef was uneventful. Thankfully. I was approaching Savusavu and the wind was dieing away to nothing. I tried to start the engine. It didn't want to run. Finally it caught and chugged to life. Then it suddenly surged to full power and ran perfectly!

After about an hour of motorsailing I thought maybe I should save this 'good-running engine time' for my entrance into Savusavu. So I shut down the motor.

I came around the corner and into Savusavu harbor and called s/v Stravaig. The mooring field they were in is way back into the harbor. There's reefs back there that I was not familiar with. They were going to come out and guide me through them.

I'm having a fine sail into the harbor. No waves, nice breeze from a fair direction. Galena was prancing along at 6.5 kts. After an hour of this I start the engine and it sputters and dies. I try again. It comes to a stumbling life. I call Stravaig and say I may need a tow in. He and several others respond saying they were standing by with their dinghies. Nice to have friends.

As I approach the main mooring field at the Copra Shed marina the engine comes back to full power and I have no problem maneuvering through the boats and following Jeff to my new mooring. It's a convoluted route but it's sort of marked and if you stay off the coral heads the water is about 30-feet deep all the way in.



Galena's track for the final mile into the harbor at Savusavu, Fiji


I get tied off to the mooring and Jeff and Jose come over and give me a ride back to Stravaig. We have a beer and I tell them the story of my passage from Musket Cove. We play a little 'whatever-happened-to?" and decide to go into the yacht club for a beer.

It was very nice to see the old gang again. Pete, Bernard, Sheron, Leon, et al. But after only a couple of beers I needed to go home and get some rest.

Now it's 5AM and I'm ready to start cleaning up the mess inside Galena. The ride was so rough at the start that there's stuff thrown everywhere. You can hardly walk around inside. After that I have a lot of work to do on her systems; Starting with that engine.

Thursday, December 20, 2012

Cyclone Evan, Musket Cove, Fiji

I never put together an actual note entry or web site page on the events at Musket Cove during the recent tropical cyclone. I've pulled together a few pictures and various Facebook entries and came up with this write-up.

On 5 December I started seeing signs of a storm developing over the Solomons, several hundred miles west of here. The usual path for these storms is right down the island chain and then between Vanuatu and Fiji. Then they turn east and blow themselves out well south of Fiji.

This storm showed a different path. It was going to head directly west toward Samoa passing north of Fiji. Strange but it would still have little effect on us.

By 7 December the projected track showed a disturbing twist: The storm would hit Samoa and then stop, turn southwest and move directly toward Fiji. This was not good. Everyone started checking all the available web sites and weather sources. The projections said it would hit us on or about 16 December.

As we watched the various forecasts I noticed that the US Navy site (The Fleet Numerical Meteorology and Oceanography Center (FNMOC)) was the one the other sites followed. During the next few days the forecast changed constantly from
- it's going to pass just west of us
- it's going to pass right over us
- it's going to pass just east of us
(repeat)

The forecasts wind speed and directions from WindGuru looked like this:


The sequence, top to bottom, of the forecasts we received



My assigned spot was where the ferry docks. They were going to run that ferry until the last possible minute. I didn't want to be out on the mooring when the winds started building. So I moved Galena into the main dock. There was no one there and the dock master didn't mind. That also got me very close to the island bar. Cool.




Galena tied up alongside the main dock. The island bar is just off to the right of this picture



Patrick, the dock master, was on vacation. He was supposed to come back and manage the movement/placement of all the boats in the area. The other resorts send their support boats (dive boats, excursion boats, party boats, et al.) to Musket Cove for shelter and once they start to show up it's a serious Charlie-Foxtrot. Well, Patrick decided not to come back. I understand he had his own home and family to worry about. But he also had responsibilities here.

Anyway, one of the expats, Dave, who runs Musket Cove's excursion boats took charge. He began directing who goes where. When I said I was worried about getting back to my spot if I waited too long, Dave understood. He directed me to a position just a few hundred feet down the dock from my assigned spot. As the ferry made it's last run evacuating the last of the tourists I moved into position and started securing Galena. I hauled my metal dinghy up on shore and put it behind a hedge and tied it to a tree.


Just about ready



The forecast at that time called for winds out of the NNW. I was pointed N with the floating dock on my starboard side. I strung most of my lines from Galena's bow to the trees on shore and the dock pilings. At the stern I just put a couple of lines to the dock and a tree on shore. The Malolo Cat I was going to stay on the dock directly in front of me and that would block some of the force of the wind from that direction. Also, at low tide Galena's deck was below ground level. That would help too.

The forecasts kept getting worse. This was now a Cat 3 and coming right for us. But the day before the storm we had a lovely sunset as we partied at the Island Bar. Little did we know that it would be the last party at that bar.


The day before Cyclone Evan. Sunset at the Island Bar



By mid-afternoon on the 17th of December the winds were picking up. The radar forecasts were looking bad.


Cyclone Evan with Musket Cove circled



The last forecast indicated a direct hit of the eye over Musket Cove. Winds in they eye-wall were 120-kts. Rain heavy.

The barometer was dropping fast. Everyone was doing last minute checks of lines and fenders. I walked over to the cyclone hole behind Armstrong Island. Everything looked good on the couple of boats I was 'watching' for friends.

Gradually the winds climbed as the barometer fell. But the winds were from the SE. Throughout the afternoon they continued to build and slowly clock to the East. That put the winds on Galena's starboard quarter. The one place where I didn't have as many lines as I might have had. Galena rocked hard over with every gust. Remember I was below ground level. The wind hitting the rigging was rocking her 20-degrees!

I started to see leaves, coconuts, palm fronds and then whole trees blow by. The water was whipped to a mist in the little lake that made up the inner harbor (it was only 250 meters across and it was rough as a small lake).

The big ferry also on the dock just in front of me started to pull the dock away from it's mooring poles. I saw the crew out on the dock and on the land frantically passing more lines around trees and using 'come-alongs' to pull the big boat back against the dock. I was concerned since I, too, was tied to that dock. If the dock let go, I knew my few lines to the trees wouldn't hold Galena, the dock, and the big ferry. We'd all be swept out of the harbor and out to sea. I went out to help them. We were wearing dive masks so we could see. We got a couple more lines to the trees and managed to coax the ferry back into position.

About then one of the few lines from Galena's stern to the dock exploded. It was about 16-mm 3-strand nylon. But it was a bit old and it was way too short (no room to stretch). I wasn't too surprised by it's failure. What surprised me was the way the other lines (much longer as they went up to the trees on shore) stretched and let Galena swing about eight feet from the dock. Too far for me to jump off and run another line. I was seriously considering abandoning ship when the crew from the ferry ran up and tossed me a line. I secured it to Galena's stern cleat and they pulled us back to the dock. I was so thankful they were there to help.

Finally just before dark the wind suddenly let up. The eye of the cyclone was on us. The sky was bright white. The air was almost completely still. The barometer read 945mb. I've never seen it anywhere near that low before.

I went for a walk to check on things. The devastation was pretty amazing. I met John, the guy who runs the dive operation for Musket. He was checking his shop and surrounding buildings.


John checking his dive shop during the passage of the eye of cyclone Evan



The rain started and as I hurried back to Galena the wind started to pick up. Within just a couple of minutes it was blowing hard again. Now from the NNW.


Looking across to the Trader from Galena. This is the little harbor that's only a couple hundred yards across



With the wind on Galena's port bow she was being pushed against the dock. Now Galena was pulling on the bulk of her lines which went from bow to shore. She was also somewhat shielded by the big ferry in front of her. She was also not healing over nearly as far. I knew her hull paint wouldn't look good in the morning, but, she needed a repaint anyway.

I curled up on the port settee and fell asleep. I awoke many times and there was no change. Winds howling from the NW and Galena rocking against the fenders on the dock. Back to sleep.

At dawn I got up and surveyed the damages. Galena was in good shape. One solar panel had a broken hinge. The plywood steering vane had snapped off (I was unable to loosen the bolt that held it so left it) and one of her lines had snapped. I walked around and took a few pictures of the damage:


Galena after the storm




Looking across to Galena and the ferry




Banana trees stripped to almost nothing




Many trees were toppled over




The fuel dock was pretty much destroyed.



After a bit of cleaning up those of us who had been on site for the storm got together in a small hut near Galena and had a drink. This is the picture from that survivor party.


This is the Cyclone Evan Survivor's Club, Musket Cove, Fiji



The main wharf leading out the Island Bar was damaged. The power lines to the island were cut. So there would be no island bar drinks for a while. And I had to move right away since the Ferry had to start service. So I went back out to my mooring.

I talked with the owner of the resort, Will Smith, and asked when the docks and Island Bar would be repaired. He said Yachtie support was at the very bottom of his list. Maybe he'd get around to that stuff in May or June. This made me feel very unwelcome. I was no longer happy in this little corner of paradise.

I called my old friends Jeff and Jose on s/v Stravaig. They had recently arrived in Savusavu, Fiji. I expressed my displeasure with Musket Cove. They suggested that if I came back to Savusasvu the owner of the marina would put in a new cyclone mooring for me. I decided that I would head back to Savusavu as soon as I had a reasonable weather window.

Wednesday, December 19, 2012

Musket Cove, Malolo Lailai, Fiji

Musket Cove
Malolo Lailai, Fiji
October-December 2012


October 30, 2012

Done now with Suva, I headed out for another overnight sail. This time it was a bit further. Actually a day-nigh-day sail. And there was absolutely no wind. And none was forecast for the next few days. I ended up motorsailing most of the way with only a couple hours of actually sailing.

Departing Suva I had to contend with a fleet of Chinese longliner fishing boats that also decided this was a great time to exit the harbor.


Chinese Longliner departing Suva

The passage along the south coast of Viti Lavu, Fiji's main island, was uneventful. No wind most of the way. But that also meant calm seas, which is always good.


Galena's track from Suva to Musket Cove, Fiji

I was a bit apprehentious about the entrance to Musket cove. The area if full of reefs. The reefs are easy enough to see in good lighting so I had to time my arrival to have the sun over my shoulder. Between the reefs the water was deep; over 200 feet in most places.

>
From Google Earth, the reefs around Musket Cove

My Garmin chart plotter had been pretty accurate so I was trusting it to get me close and then trusting my eyes to make the final adjustments to my course.


From the Yachtsman's Guide to Fiji, the reefs around Musket Cove

However, about one mile out just as I was motoring between two reefs, the engine sputtered. It had been running perfectly for about two years and now, when I could least afford it to have a problem it decided to act up.

I ran down into the cabin and opened the engine compartment. I switched the fuel supply valve from the port tank to the starboard tank. That should fix it. But it didn't. The engine was still running, but sputtering and surging as if starved for fuel. I looked at the reefs close by. I looked at the depth sounder. It read 180 feet. Too deep to anchor. But maybe I should prep the anchor for a quick release. Maybe I should raise a sail to at least give me some semblance of control if the engine dies.

I went forward and prep'd the anchor for a quick drop. I pulled the sail ties off the staysail and released the hold-down at the stay.

The engine continued to sputter. Wait... It sounded a little better for a second. Then better still. Finally, slowly, it smoothed out. I was back to speed and heading in to the harbor.

Passing the last reef mark before turning in toward the yachts moored in front of the Musket Cove Resort I called on the VHF and asked for mooring instructions. "Just pick up any mooring you like and come in and see us when you get settled." I found one that wasn't too close to the other boats. Which meant it wasn't too close to the resort, also. I had no problem picking up the mooring. There was no painter just a heavy loop and about three feet of line above the mooring ball.

Once I was secured my friends Ernie and Charlene (s/v Lauren Grace) came by to say, "hi." After a brief chat they gave me a ride in to shore and Ernie took me around to introduce me to everyone and show me what was where. Having been up all night I barely remembered what he was saying. So I soon went back to Galena to put her to bed and then do the same with myself. After a nap I launched my dinghy and found my way to the little island bar at the entrance to the marina.


The "Island Bar" with Galena at her mooring to the far right

There I immediately felt I had found a home.


The "Island Bar" with Vasiti and Lavinia. At one time this was called the $2-Bar (Just about everything cost $2). By the time I got here it was called the $5-Bar. When I left it was up to $5.50-Bar


Some of my good friends, Chris and Paul, at my favorite place.


Me doing what I do best: harassing the tourists

Ernie had shown me where they park yachts for cyclone season. It looked very safe to me; sort of a mote around an artificial island surrounded by hills and trees. And the cost was very reasonable. I made the decision to stay for the cyclone season. This place had everything: bars, restaurants, pools, hiking trails, small store, laundry. And the ferry to the main island ran four times a day. On the main island one can get just about anything; within reason and for a price.

I decided to stay here for the cyclone season.

One of the comfortable places to hang out at Musket Cove is the Trader. It's the small cafe and general store. A large porch surrounds the building with nice views and constant breezes.


Charlene, her friend, Linda, and Ernie (s/v Lauren Grace) on the porch at the Trader

Musket Cove is very nice for a Pacific Island resort. Musket Cove is one of three resorts in the cove. Further along the beach to the south is the Plantation Resort (more family-oriented) and then there's Lomani (strictly adults only). But Musket offers a nice level of pampering and class.

There are two ferries that make 4-times a day runs to the mainland (near Denarau, Fiji). While I was there they hauled Cat II out for maintenance.


The main ferry that runs between Musket Cove and the mainland of Fiji

They are building a new one near the airfield and expect it to be ready for next tourist season.


The newest of the Malolo Cat ferries being built near Malolo Lailai Airfield

While the modern Malolo Cat ferries are fast and comfortable they haul only passengers. The small island trader m/v Bili Bili is the workhorse of these islands. This little ferry is almost constantly making cargo runs between the islands and the mainland.


The hardest working boat in Fiji: m/v Bili Bili

Patrick, the man who runs the marina assigned me to a spot that I would move to in case of a cyclone. We walked around to the hurricane hole and he pointed out where Galena would set and where I would tie lines to the shore. Everything was arranged. I would stay out on the mooring until a storm threatened. At that time I would move into the lagoon and tie up to the central mooring and to the shore. It was a nice arrangement. And interestingly they don't charge for that reservation for the storm mooring until/unless I actually go in and use it. I'm not complaining.


From the ridge line looking down on Armstrong island and the cyclone hole

Then, a week later, a huge power catamaran came in to the resort (m/y Safari Swell) and John, the owner, wanted to leave it here for the cyclone season. Under their agreement with me the marina would be able to charge me a pittance for just the few days Galena might be in the cyclone hole. But if they put that big cat back there they would make a bundle each day for months. So I was out. I was told, "So sorry. we seem to have 'overbooked.' I told Patrick, well and good but we had an agreement. He said he would find a place for me. He did. Not as good and maybe not as safe. But not bad, either.


Musket Cove. Z-Galena's mooring, B-Island Bar, X-Galena's Cyclone Spot, Y-Galena's promised spot

Practic Run into the Cyclone Hole

On the 18th of November 2012 we received word of a possible cyclone heading our way. Forecasts were calling for winds over 40 kts. I told Patrick I wanted to come in and asked where my new position was. He said he'd put me up against the walkway bridge leading to Armstrong Island. This was the place normally reserved for the BiliBili barge. But he was not coming in for this storm and I was welcome to tie up there.

First we moved s/v Lauren Grance into position. Ernie had done this before so I just assisted by handling lines for him.

Then we moved Galena into position.


Galena moving through the small draw bridge and to her cyclone spot against the Armstrong Island Bridge

Once I had her in position Ernie helped tie her up to the bridge and I put out an anchor off the port beam.


Galena secured to the Armstrong Island Bridge

The only problem with this arrangement was that the bridge is static and the tidal range is about six feet. Soon I was unable to climb up from Galena's deck to the bridge. I had to use the dinghy to go over to the nearby floating dock. Also, at low tide Galena was firmly aground. She was sitting in soft mud so I had no worries about damage. But it made living aboard a bit strange as she sat bow-down and listing to starboard.


Galena about a foot out of the water at low tide

As it turned out the storm was nothing of note. Winds were a little brisk but not too bad. Still I was happy to be where I was rather than out on the mooring. At least here I was able to get to the bar without using my dinghy.

Within a couple of days I was back out on the mooring and everything had returned to normal. All in all it was just a nice practice run. Although now Patrick says my official spot will be just outside the drawbridge at the Malolo Cat dock. Good enough I guess.

Erie was sailing over to Denarau (on the mainland) and asked if I wanted to come along. Sure, why not? I was going over to buy some heavy line to use during the cyclones and he would be able to bring it back with ease.


Charlene and Ernie onboard s/v Lauren Grace

We had a very quiet motorsail over. This marked the first time I was ever on a catamaran while underway. Very different motion compared to a monohull. And Ernie, having been here many times was eager to show me all the features of the route between Musket Cove and Denarau. When we got to the mainland Ernie guided me to all the boat chandleries and hardware stores in Denarau and Nadi. Finally we took a taxi out to Manaka near the Nadi Airport. We finally found a store with the 20-mm yellow polypropylene 3-strand rope I wanted. But the store wanted F$6.80 (about US$4.20) and I needed 100 meters. With a lot of haggling my taxi driver got him down to F$6/m. Still a lot. Then I saw some of the same rope in white rather than yellow on another spool nearby. The spool said it, too, was 20-mm. The only difference was that it was white. My taxi driver picked up both to compare them and in so doing twisted the yellow against the lay (it expanded in diameter) and twisted the white with the lay (it tightened up). The result was that the yellow looked a lot larger than the white. He showed them to the store keeper and asked how much this 'thinner' rope was? The guy said, "Oh, that's a lot smaller and is only F$4/m" "I'll take it," said I.

I hung out at the main tourist center at Denarau and partied a bit during the following weekend. They have the standard attractions such as a Hard Rock Cafe.


The ubiquitous Hard Rock Cafe, Denarau, Fiji

And along the harbor is the boardwalk with all the tourist traps one might want. Everything from bars to pizza shops to fried chicken fast food to cafe's with nightly fire-dancers.


The main boardwalk looking out at the tourist ships that take people to the outer islands

The mooring field at Denarau only has about 12 moorings. And they are not rated for cyclones. But nearby (about 1km) are two creeks that carry 7-ft at the entrances and go back several kilometers into the mangroves. During a recent cyclone there were 40+ boats back there and not one sustained any damage.


Mooring field at Denarau. Lauren Grace is the cat right of center.

Back at Musket Cove I'd go for walks along the beach. Well, that's not entirely accurate. I'd walk to the various resorts' bars on the beach. While walking near The Plantation Resort I happen upon Tom Hanks' raft from the movie, "Castaway." The island scenes were actually filmed on Monuriki Island, about 12 miles NW of here.

Look closely and you can see that the raft is completely stainless steel and fiberglass. In fact, everything that looks like wood is actually fiberglass.


Me playing Tom Hanks. In front of me is what's left of Wilson.

Another bar on the beach, between Musket and Plantation is Ananda's. It's just past the airfield and has some of the best food on the island. The beers are also a little cheaper than the big resorts. Ananda's was the first bar up and running after Cyclone Evan. With the demise of the Island Bar it became my favorite bar. But it was a far cry from the Island Bar. And a far walk from the dock.


Ananda's.

Walking along the beach between Musket and Ananda's you crossed the end of the airstrip. The end of the strip ran right into the ocean. The sign wasn't kidding. Sometimes I'd be about to walk into the path of a landing plane. They were still a hundred feet high, but it's scary none the less.


Crossing the end of the airstrip on the beach road

And on some mornings, waking up and looking across the mooring field I'd be presented with the most wonderful sights.


Rainbow over the mooring field at Musket Cove from the deck of Galena

One thing I've not really gotten use to here in 'The Islands' is the absence of OSHA. Here we have the problem of trimming trees that are well out of reach from even the highest forklifts on the island. What do they do? The build a scaffold and lift THAT with the forklift. Works fine. But it's a little shaky.


Tree trimming from a scaffold on a forklift



Cyclone Evan - Monday, 17 December 2012


On 5 December I started seeing signs of a storm developing over the Solomons, several hundred miles west of here. The usual path for these storms is right down the island chain and then between Vanuatu and Fiji. Then they turn east and blow themselves out well south of Fiji.

This storm showed a different path. It was going to head directly west toward Samoa passing north of Fiji. Strange but it would still have little effect on us.

By 7 December the projected track showed a disturbing twist: The storm would hit Samoa and then stop, turn southwest and move directly toward Fiji. This was not good. Everyone started checking all the available web sites and weather sources. The projections said it would hit us on or about 16 December.

As we watched the various forecasts I noticed that the US Navy site (The Fleet Numerical Meteorology and Oceanography Center (FNMOC)) was the one the other sites followed. During the next few days the forecast changed constantly from - it's going to pass just west of us
- it's going to pass right over us
- it's going to pass just east of us
(repeat)

The forecasts wind speed and directions from WindGuru looked like this:


The sequence, top to bottom, of the forecasts we received

My assigned spot was where the ferry docks. They were going to run that ferry until the last possible minute. I didn't want to be out on the mooring when the winds started building. So I moved Galena into the main dock. There was no one there and the dock master didn't mind. That also got me very close to the island bar. Cool.


Galena tied up alongside the main dock. The island bar is just off to the right of this picture

Patrick, the dock master, was on vacation. He was supposed to come back and manage the movement/placement of all the boats in the area. The other resorts send their support boats (dive boats, excursion boats, party boats, et al.) to Musket Cove for shelter and once they start to show up it's a serious Charlie-Foxtrot. Well, Patrick decided not to come back. I understand he had his own home and family to worry about. But he also had responsibilities here.

Anyway, one of the expats, Dave, who runs Musket Cove's excursion boats took charge. He began directing who goes where. When I said I was worried about getting back to my spot if I waited too long, Dave understood. He directed me to a position just a few hundred feet down the dock from my assigned spot. As the ferry made it's last run evacuating the last of the tourists I moved into position and started securing Galena. I hauled my metal dinghy up on shore and put it behind a hedge and tied it to a tree.


Just about ready

The forecast at that time called for winds out of the NNW. I was pointed N with the floating dock on my starboard side. I strung most of my lines from Galena's bow to the trees on shore and the dock pilings. At the stern I just put a couple of lines to the dock and a tree on shore. The Malolo Cat I was going to stay on the dock directly in front of me and that would block some of the force of the wind from that direction. Also, at low tide Galena's deck was below ground level. That would help too.

The forecasts kept getting worse. This was now a Cat 3 and coming right for us. But the day before the storm we had a lovely sunset as we partied at the Island Bar. Little did we know that it would be the last party at that bar.


The day before Cyclone Evan. Sunset at the Island Bar

By mid-afternoon on the 17th of December the winds were picking up. The radar forecasts were looking bad.


Cyclone Evan with Musket Cove circled

The last forecast indicated a direct hit of the eye over Musket Cove. Winds in they eye-wall were 120-kts. Rain heavy.

The barometer was dropping fast. Everyone was doing last minute checks of lines and fenders. I walked over to the cyclone hole behind Armstrong Island. Everything looked good on the couple of boats I was 'watching' for friends.

Gradually the winds climbed as the barometer fell. But the winds were from the SE. Throughout the afternoon they continued to build and slowly clock to the East. That put the winds on Galena's starboard quarter. The one place where I didn't have as many lines as I might have had. Galena rocked hard over with every gust. Remember I was below ground level. The wind hitting the rigging was rocking her 20-degrees!

I started to see leaves, coconuts, palm fronds and then whole trees blow by. The water was whipped to a mist in the little lake that made up the inner harbor (it was only 250 meters across and it was rough as a small lake).

The big ferry also on the dock just in front of me started to pull the dock away from it's mooring poles. I saw the crew out on the dock and on the land frantically passing more lines around trees and using 'come-alongs' to pull the big boat back against the dock. I was concerned since I, too, was tied to that dock. If the dock let go, I knew my few lines to the trees wouldn't hold Galena, the dock, and the big ferry. We'd all be swept out of the harbor and out to sea. I went out to help them. We were wearing dive masks so we could see. We got a couple more lines to the trees and managed to coax the ferry back into position.

About then one of the few lines from Galena's stern to the dock exploded. It was about 16-mm 3-strand nylon. But it was a bit old and it was way too short (no room to stretch). I wasn't too surprised by it's failure. What surprised me was the way the other lines (much longer as they went up to the trees on shore) stretched and let Galena swing about eight feet from the dock. Too far for me to jump off and run another line. I was seriously considering abandoning ship when the crew from the ferry ran up and tossed me a line. I secured it to Galena's stern cleat and they pulled us back to the dock. I was so thankful they were there to help.

Finally just before dark the wind suddenly let up. The eye of the cyclone was on us. The sky was bright white. The air was almost completely still. The barometer read 945mb. I've never seen it anywhere near that low before.

I went for a walk to check on things. The devastation was pretty amazing. I met John, the guy who runs the dive operation for Musket. He was checking his shop and surrounding buildings.


John checking his dive shop during the passage of the eye of cyclone Evan

The rain started and as I hurried back to Galena the wind started to pick up. Within just a couple of minutes it was blowing hard again. Now from the NNW.


Looking across to the Trader from Galena. This is the little harbor that's only a couple hundred yards across

With the wind on Galena's port bow she was being pushed against the dock. Now Galena was pulling on the bulk of her lines which went from bow to shore. She was also somewhat shielded by the big ferry in front of her. She was also not healing over nearly as far. I knew her hull paint wouldn't look good in the morning, but, she needed a repaint anyway.

I curled up on the port settee and fell asleep. I awoke many times and there was no change. Winds howling from the NW and Galena rocking against the fenders on the dock. Back to sleep.

At dawn I got up and surveyed the damages. Galena was in good shape. One solar panel had a broken hinge. The plywood steering vane had snapped off (I was unable to loosen the bolt that held it so left it) and one of her lines had snapped. I walked around and took a few pictures of the damage:


Galena after the storm


Looking across to Galena and the ferry


Banana trees stripped to almost nothing


Many trees were toppled over


The fuel dock was pretty much destroyed.

After a bit of cleaning up those of us who had been on site for the storm got together in a small hut near Galena and had a drink. This is the picture from that survivor party.


This is the Cyclone Evan Survivor's Club, Musket Cove, Fiji





The main wharf leading out the Island Bar was damaged. The power lines to the island were cut. So there would be no island bar drinks for a while. And I had to move right away since the Ferry had to start service. So I went back out to my mooring.

I talked with the owner of the resort, Will Smith, and asked when the docks and Island Bar would be repaired. He said Yachtie support was at the very bottom of his list. Maybe he'd get around to that stuff in May or June. This made me feel very unwelcome. I was no longer happy in this little corner of paradise.

I called my old friends Jeff and Jose on s/v Stravaig. They had recently arrived in Savusavu, Fiji. I expressed my displeasure with Musket Cove. They suggested that if I came back to Musket Cove the owner of the marina would put in a new cyclone mooring for me. I decided that I would head back to Savusavu as soon as I had a reasonable weather window.