Making it to the flip side

Some of our boat neighbors, also stuck at Minerva Reef waiting for a weather window, began leaving just short of our two week anniversary within the protection of the reef. A Tuesday it was, and a coupe boats ventured out the pass to begin their week-or-more long passage to New Zealand. It was still a little frisky out there, so we opted to stay until Thursday. On Wednesday a few more neighbors took their chances and departed, leaving just a few boats remaining at the reef. Thursday morning, at a leisurely hour, we picked up anchor, hoisted our mainsail, and set for the open ocean on what we figured would be an eight day sail to traverse the final 850 miles to New Zealand – all the way on the other side of the Pacific Ocean, finally.

Once out of the protected waters, we pointed towards New Zealand and brought out both headsails. The wind, perfectly on our beam, along with the three sails out, propelled Meriwether along at 7+ knots, thanks in part to a slight current running in our favor. If we kept this pace, we would arrive in five days! With none of the crazy down-wind rolling back and forth, the boat was extremely comfortable and extra the speed was welcomed. We got straight to our sleep schedule and settled in for what would be our third longest passage in our career.

The days melt into each other out there. The only things that change are reefing down each evening, and shaking those same reefs back out each morning. Very little takes place but for movie watching, book reading, sleeping and the rising and falling of the sun. However, one constant that has been with us since May was changing. The ever present heat of the South Pacific islands was slowly being replaced with cooler days and nights. I had spent all my days in just a pair of shorts since we left Mexico, and I hadn’t used a blanket during that time either. But as we headed more and more South, this all transformed over a couple day period. Full length pants, even during the daylight hours, and a cozy jacket for the evenings. A weighty blanket at night helped me sleep much better to boot.

Each of us sleeps as much as we can during our off-shifts, at least for the first few days. On the third day our bodies start to acclimate to the 4 hour sleep windows and things begin to get easier. It was about then that we begun to hear a hammering sound coming from under the boat. We checked that we didn’t have a line dangling off the deck and slapping the hull (that is often the case) but not this time. I traced the sound coming from our transmission, so I topped off with some fluid and the sound went away. Our propeller free-spins while we are sailing, which turns the transmission as well. This is working as designed, but there is some added noise of all those gears spinning, especially at the speeds we were moving at. There, I fixed it!

A day later the hammering returned, but topping off the fluid did not resolve it. In fact, we would not have enough fluid to keep replacing it at this pace anyway, so that was not a solution. We finally decided to do something we have never done before while at sea; heave-to and make a repair. It was simple enough to heave-to (heaving-to brings the boat to a stop, pointed into the wind and waves) which allowed me to remove the large sections of wood, and everything stored in them, covering our engine and transmission. It also stopped the propeller from spinning. This allowed me to clamp on a pair of vice grips which would prevent the propeller, and transmission, from spinning while we at speed. The idea was that at least we would not be losing more transmission fluid, and we can remove this “fix” as we get within a few hours of land. I also took the time to call a mechanic in New Zealand (thank you Starlink!) and discuss the issue with him. We now understood we likely have a broken clutch plate inside the transmission, and *if* it would go into gear, it may not come back out of gear or go back in again. So, once we engaged it, we should not take it back out of gear until we were at a dock. 

Once we put everything back together and got back to sailing, there was this huge elephant no longer in the room. The constant whining of propeller and gears fell silent. It was amazing! Who would have thought that sailing could be this nice? That whine would wake us as it would grow in urgency along with boat speed. At 7 knots, it was like a fire alarm at all times. Now it was total silence but for the wisp-sound of the water passing under us.

We continued on, sailing in silence and having one of our nicest passages, until 150 miles out from New Zealand where the wind died off completely as the sun set. This was forecasted, but we hoped we would still have a tiny breeze to keep us under sail. We didn’t want to have to motor for that length (about 36 hours worth) with the transmission issue. That night we both slept while the boat drifted in the ocean, with sails down to prevent them from flogging. We drifted for the night, mostly just to get the timing right so not to arrive in New Zealand at night. At morning we removed out make shift prop-brake, engaged forward gear (it worked!), and motored for 34 hours to finally arrive in New Zealand after what feels like an eternity and millions of miles of sailing since Mexico.

Kerri spent those final hours of motoring into NZ down in the galley, preparing us a Thanksgiving meal – since it was Thanksgiving day and all. Even though we arrived to the customs dock at 6pm, we were able to immediately relax over a hot meal, a couple drinks, and get a good night’s sleep (together) before the customs officials would come in the morning to check us into the country. Only then cold we try to put Meriwether back into gear and get to our slip. With a little bit of underlying anxiety we tried the transmission once more. All went well and we tied up in a slip that will be Meriwether’s home for two months as the transmission gets repaired and Kerri and I fly back to the States to visit family.