Minerva Reef

November 2, 2003, 3:30 p.m. local time (UTC 2003/11/02 02:29), On passage from Minerva Reef to Opua, NZ.

LATITUDE: 23-47.83S, LONGITUDE: 179-07.76W, COURSE: 220T, SPEED: 5.9

Dear friends and family:

We spent the last few days at Minerva Reef -- a strange phenomenon if ever there was one. We traveled 3 days from Vava'u, arrived at a certain point in the ocean, and began to see breaking waves. We found the calm spot (the pass) and entered Minerva Reef -- a circular reef, about 3 miles across, which is entirely under water at high tide. At low tide you can go "ashore" and walk along a vast array of tide pools, and canyons leading into the ocean. We were the third boat to arrive (at least for the current weather window to New Zealand), and by the time we left there were about 15 boats anchored there. It's big enough that there's room for hundreds of boats. At high tide some ocean swell comes in, but at low tide, the water is like a mill pond. The water is crystal clear, but there's not much to see except the coral sand on the bottom -- which is visible even where the water is 50 feet deep.

As you approach the barrier reef, the bottom suddenly shelves up to 10 or 15 feet, and then gradually ascends to a depth of just a few feet -- or even nothing. In this shallower shelf area, we went snorkeling around a wreck of an old steel boat. There was a most fantastic array of fish life around this wreck -- we've heard about how wrecks attract sea life, but had never seen an actual example. It was the sort of thing that made you wish you had an underwater camera. There was a huge school of hundreds of yellow and white fish that motored slowly in a circle around the wreck, seemingly oblivious to the four of us snorkeling among them. The water temperature is getting noticeably less tropical -- we had 92 degrees in the Marquesas and most of French Polynesia, 83 degrees in Vava'u, and now 79 in Minerva Reef. We describe it as "brisk" or "refreshing" or "BRRR". It's still hot during the day, though, so midday swimming is usually "refreshing." Nighttimes are cool enough now to need at least a sheet, and sometimes even a blanket. I assume it will become more and more temperate (and we'll be less and less inclined to swim) as we go further south.

We were present for the Halloween founding of the "Minerva Reef Yacht Club" and we have membership cards to prove it! This was actually an idea for a party, dreamed up by Commodore Russ of Hyggelig, Vice Commodore Jane of Jane G, and Social Secretary Brycea of Windchime.

We all brought pot luck dishes to share, and laid them out on a couple of the dinghies pulled up onto the tide pools. We wore costumes (as appropriate for a Halloween party), and stood around in ankle-deep water (taking care to avoid stepping on the sea cucumbers), learning more about our fellow travelers.

Craig dressed as a Minerva Reef customs official (white shirt, name tag, & lavalava, complete with side pockets and watch pocket) with the addition of a Mylar fright wig which has served us well on several occasions. I raided the medical kit for a stethoscope and went as a doctor; Barbara Bates went as a sheriff and Reggie -- well who knows what he was, but it was very creative.

We became acquainted with San, a Japanese single hander (S/V Getten), who is full of information about fish, shellfish and other sea life which can be eaten raw or cooked. He was most interested in the wreck, because he was sure there would be big grouper around it (we didn't see any, but that doesn't prove a thing). San and Reggie walked out across the reef to the ocean, where San found some small shellfish which he said were delicious (he was going to take them back to the boat and boil them).

Craig spent a long time listening to Jean-Claude (a Belgian), who was serious speculating that 9-11 was a CIA plot to make the Bush presidency more macho. I had made a pumpkin desert in honor of the occasion, and it was a hit. Actually, Brycea gave me one can of pumpkin, but it wasn't enough, so I mashed up a very ripe papaya, which did a nice job of masquerading as a second can of pumpkin. We baked the mixture like a pie (with an unsuccessful crust, but oh well...)

Today we spent the morning cooking dishes in advance for the passage (bread, tabouli, paella, beef stew, sandwich fillings), and were finally able to take off about noon. Our weather guru, Bob McDavitt, seems to suggest that the next seven days will work fine for a trip to New Zealand. So far there is no wind at all, and the engine is putting forth all the effort. (Aside from Craig: one of the sailors compared sailing to New Zealand like a dog crossing a freeway, what with the periodic fronts and lows that sweep from west to east...so a day motoring in a flat calm is not the worst that could happen!)

Thanks to all for your messages -- we do enjoy receiving them! Best wishes to all!