Engine damage

The wind is whistling around my ears as we stand off Moorea, tighten the towline and set the mainsail. According to the weather forecast, it should now be nine knots. In fact, we have fifteen knots of wind and the wave height is not 1.5 meters, but three meters. I look a little worried because I know what's coming.

Cook Bay Moorea

A few days earlier, we were still anchored in Cook Bay. The wind picks up a little, and gusts of over 30 knots keep coming into the bay. An English yacht comes in and drops anchor far too close to ours. By the time he realizes his mishap and weighs anchor again, it's too late for us. Our anchor starts to slip. I start the engine, and we haul in the hook. To get away from the others, we look for a place with more space. Unfortunately, it's dark, and the strong gusts don't exactly make the maneuver easy. Suddenly, I see smoke rising from the saloon and the engine ventilation. I panic, thinking at first that our boat is burning down. Shortly afterward, the engine alarm goes off. I shout to Gaby, who is standing at anchor and doesn't notice any of this, to lower the anchor immediately. A little confused: “What's going on now?” - The anchor drops to three meters. I switch off the engine, and the smoke subsides. Under the saloon bench, where the engine is installed, it hisses and bubbles. The cylinder head gasket has failed spectacularly. This should now also clarify the cause of the loss of oil pressure and power. The fact that the specialists in the Marquesas and, above all, the Yanmar service in Papeete were unable to determine the cause probably speaks in um favor of this service.

Engine damage

I go up to Gaby and say, “Give it a bit more chain; it has to hold now; otherwise, we'll have a problem.” “What happened?” she asks. I tell her that the engine is broken. She looks at me, stunned. We are now lying quite well, and we will spend the next few days organizing how we can get out of here and where we can best repair the damage. SY Freya has already left, and SY Lady Blue is now moored in the neighboring bay. But the bigger question is: where to go? The shorter distance speaks in favor of Tahiti. Personally, I would prefer Raiatea because I have heard that the shipyard there does a good job. We discuss the pros and cons and decide in favor of Raiatea. Helmut from Freya, who speaks perfect French, clarifies this for us. But both shipyards turn us down due to overwork. So we have no choice but to sail back to Tahiti after all. 18 miles into the wind.

Katinka in tow, Moorea

The mainsail is up, and I cut the towline to SY Lady Blue. Horst came over from Opunohu Bay shortly before he left for Raiatea and towed us into the open water. With a wind angle of 40°, we start to turn up. Later, I even managed 32°, a new upwind record on the Katinka. The wind is coming from the east-southeast, exactly where we want to go. Once again, a hell of a trip for man and material. Especially as the weather forecast once again generously exploits the deviating conditions due to local circumstances. The wind is not coming from the south-east at 12 knots but, as already mentioned, almost from the east and has a strength of 22 to 26 knots, gusting up to 32 knots. Accordingly, the waves are not a moderate 1.5 meters high, but three meters. Initially, we sail exactly north. By trimming the sails, however, we manage 10° to the east. So it's going to be a long journey. We set sail at 3 p.m. and at 5 p.m. dusk sets in here at 17° south. The difference is simple: you can no longer see it crashing in the run-up; you can only hear it. The Pacific wave has considerably more energy than the Atlantic wave and keeps trying to throw us off our course, which is still 10°. The Marlon Brando Island of Onetahi appears in the northeast. The locals call the island Brando Island because a movie with him was once filmed there. Unfortunately, there is a military firing range off the island, which is part of a small atoll. Shortly after 8 p.m., we are almost in the middle of it until I realize what the symbols on the map actually mean. So I think it's probably better to turn around and do so immediately. 180° is the new course, so directly south and again, not an inch to the east. Even now, I kite everything out of the sails and manage a degree or two to the east. What's more, after a good hour, the wind shifts to east-northeast, and we can set a course of 160°. At 0.20 a.m. we are in the shadow of Tahiti, in the channel between Moorea and Tahiti. With the wind suddenly gone and the speed out of the catamaran, the turn is, of course, over. A jibe has to be made and takes us a valuable distance to the east again. Slowly, our Katinka regains speed, but the wind is not long to return, and so we plow through the waves at up to 6 knots, which are still slapping infernally against the sides of the boat. The wind has shifted back to the east, and we now leave Brando Island clearly to port. The idea is to get to the height of Papeete with this stroke and then, after the turn, simply sail south. But as is the case in real life, there is always a discrepancy between the idea and the actual implementation. The wind continues to shift to the north-east, forcing us to tack at 3.00 a.m.; otherwise, we would drift west again. We now have 30 knots of wind and the conditions are not easy. We make the tack and manage to head exactly south. But this time, we are lucky. The closer we get to Tahiti, the more the wind shifts to the southeast, and we reach the last mile to the east and can head straight for the Papeete Pass. Our welcoming committee consists of Tim from SY Nica and Ralf from Barbarella. We organized this with Gorm, the owner of SY Nica, before we left Moorea and have been in contact with Tim, who is waiting for us behind the pass, for some time. Half a mile before the pass, I get in touch with Port Control, Papeete, via channel 12 and announce my arrival. I get clearance, and we enter the pass and hoist the sails shortly afterward. Phew, after 83 nautical miles and 22 hours, we have covered a distance of 16 miles. I just want to sleep! 

Back in Tahiti

But first, our Katinka has to go into the box at Papeete Marina. Helmut from SY Freya has put his, which he has paid for until September, at our disposal. Tim and Ralf tow us into the harbor with the dinghy. After we have moored, a lot of weight falls off our shoulders, and we both feel relieved. Tomorrow, we'll see if we can get the engine repaired. On that note, as always, fair winds and keep a stiff upper lip.