Hurry up before it gets bad

 

Sunrise on the Pacific

The night is pitch black and only the occasional star flashes through the clouds. I've now broken the 1000-mile mark and the wind has picked up again. The last few days the sun has even shone for several hours, but the sky keeps closing in towards evening. The waves still don't have a consistent direction. The direction of the swell is southeast, but due to the many small thunderstorm cells on this huge ocean, the swell is repeatedly overlaid by the waves of a fast-moving squall. As there is nothing to stop this momentum, it spreads out across the ocean, sometimes crashing violently against the side of my boat and keeping the autopilot constantly busy. Yes, some of the waves have such immense pressure that they sometimes shift the boat. The autopilot then always compensates for this with a lurching course.

On the way to New Zealand

After the 1000 miles, I quickly reach the summit and leave half of the total distance behind me. The cork pops. I took a bottle of red wine with me for moments like this. I drink a glass to the 1000 miles and another to the halfway point. The next glass will be at the International Date Line and the last one on arrival.

The International Date Line

The International Date Line here in the area is 172.5° West. This is because the Chatham Islands belong to New Zealand and should of course have the same day as the mother country. So the date line has been moved back to the west, as has been done for various South Sea islands. The main reasons are probably the economic orientation of the islands, so that trade is not further complicated administratively by the different days. It sounds trivial, but you have to think a bit about exactly which day it is when you cross this imaginary line. The following principle applies: “From east to west, keep the date; from west to east, let the date go.” On the night of 25.11.2024 to 26.11.2024, I cross this line from west to east with the Katinka and lose a whole day. In fact, 26.11.2024 does not exist for me. By crossing it, I go on a journey through time and find myself on 27.11.2024. Living through a day at the speed of light, so to speak. If that's not worth a sip of red wine.

But it also means that I will arrive in New Zealand a day later. That's not a big problem at first, as I've allowed enough time, but unfortunately the weather doesn't cooperate. On the whole crossing, I have so far benefited from a favorable wind direction, which comes from the southeast, mostly from the east. However, a storm depression is brewing on the west side of New Zealand next week, which will push the wind around the northern tip and therefore come from the west. So I should reach my destination before Tuesday. That's why I'm going to tack before the wind picks up. No one needs to be bolting up against 30 knots so close to the finish line. So I hope that everything continues to go well to avoid the whole thing with the storm depression.

At work

Another 560 nautical miles to the finish. At the current 5.6 knots, that's just over four days. So it should be fine. The Kermadec Islands lie ahead of me. The islands are scattered over 33.6 km² and are of volcanic origin. Around 500 nautical miles from New Zealand, they are roughly halfway between New Zealand and Tonga. I will pass the islands in the far south. I probably won't get to see L'Espereance Rock, a rock that rises 70 meters out of the water, as it will be dark by the time I reach it. Well, you can't time everything. Of course I'd be delighted to see land again after 13 days, but I'll manage the few days until New Zealand. All in all, I've seen very little so far. It was clear from the start that there were no ships on this route. The few islands that served as waypoints, but which I didn't see for weather reasons, were also taken into account. Apart from a gannet and a few small seabirds, there was not even any wildlife to be seen. And these seabirds are only now coming into view as I approach the Kermadec Islands. So it seems to be a very lonely area. Maybe it's because of the temperatures. The water temperature has dropped permanently and is now 21.5°C. The air temperature is even worse, dropping to below 18°C at night. Even during the day, the thermometer only manages 20°C, which makes a chilled outdoor shower a race against time.

On the Katinka to New Zealand

Last but not least, there is the pre-registration with the New Zealand authorities. This must be announced no less than 48 hours before arrival. Any change to the arrival time must be reported. To save myself the trouble of reporting the change, I will of course wait and report my arrival as late as possible and then hope that this will be done in one go. A form, a photo of the boat, the insurance certificate and the boat papers have to be sent along. In the meantime, I'm really glad that I have Starlink on board. I wonder how this was done in the past. Unfortunately, Starlink consumes a lot of power, so I can't leave it running all the time. In the beginning, it took almost an hour to restart every morning. The closer I get to New Zealand, the quicker the antenna finds a satellite. The clearance process in New Zealand will also be exciting, which I'll tell you about next time. Until then, fair winds and keep a stiff upper lip.