Crossing
from New Zealand to New Caledonia
Checking out of Opua was simple. As we were
lining up waiting for the immigration lady, we talked briefly to Lars of Ambika (Beneteau 45) who was heading the
same way but intending to call in at New Norfolk 120 nm to the west of the
direct route to Noumea. Lars had bought his 500K boat from the proceeds of
training Indian pilots to fly airbuses.
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| routine on the crossing |
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| routine on the crossing |
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| routine on the crossing |
The SE wind was fair for departure and,
despite Rejane’s protests of ‘I’m not ready yet’, we slipped mooring and
crossed the BOI, rounding the Nine Pins two hours later. Once offshore we set
course (330°T for most of the next week) and
trimmed sails.
Over the first 36 hours we all succumbed to
mal de mer (seasickness) as the sea was rough and tumbly. This is not pleasant but for some of us it seems
to be the entry ticket to the delights of the cruising life.
By day 3 stomachs were settled and we coped
easily with a wind change due to a front centred on New Norfolk. We managed to
skirt around this and as the SE wind resumed and then dropped, we motor-sailed
for a day then hoisted our enormous MPS sail.
On day 7 Dan sighted land and by 1300 we
slipping through the pass at the elegant Amadee lighthouse on its tiny sand
island 12 nm offshore. It was Sunday arvo of a long weekend and the beach was
covered in sunbathers with over thirty boats, large and small, anchored in the
lee. We hoisted the yellow quarantine flag and sailed on into Noumea harbour
making radio contact with the Bay de Moselle Capitainerie on the way in. 
The marina has quarantine berths for incoming
yachts but we decided to save 30$ and anchor for the night, immediately outside
of the marina entrance. This area is crowded with moorings so we ended up in
the fairway with returning boats wizzing by till late in the evening. We left
Dingo lit up like a Christmas tree with anchor, deck and stern lights on all
night. In the morning the friendly gendarme of the brigade nautique called to
make sure we were moving. As we had plenty of questions they pulled alongside
for a chat. One item of news was a Canadian boat which had arrived 2 weeks
earlier with 200kg of cocaine on board. |
| Amedee lighthouse |
Noumea
We tied up on quarantine berth 22,
surrounded by visiting yachts. Great to see the variety of craft, nationalities
and attitudes. Checking in consisted of a short wait for the bio security lass
who took our popcorn and little else (but carnivores beware), we were then told
to wait till midday and if customs did not arrive we could go ashore but not
take down the Q flag. Customs never arrived (long holiday weekend!) so off we
went to speak French, Franglais and English with the marina’s friendly staff.
Then off to the Place de Cocotiers in
the center of town, where baguette sandwiches and ice cream satisfied the inner
landlubber. A few days later Rejane and I walked off to find immigration,
assuming they would like to check us in. Armed with a small map from the marina
office we spent 40 minutes searching the area indicated, asking various locals,
none of whom knew where it was. Eventually we found a sign the size of a
postcard, in the foyer of a building selling surgical appliances, indicating it
was upstairs.
The Q flag came down on day four!
The neighbours in berth 24, Bruno and Catherine,
of Nosy Day a 32ft aluminium yacht,
were extremely friendly and helpful. Catherine took Rejane to the big
supermarket in their car. Bruno took Jamie round to the chandlers and metal
works to buy aluminium bar for the mast steps, essential for coral navigation (Dan made up and installed these over two days
J). They lent us their ancient
photocopy of the Pilot and three large scale charts of the southern region of
NC.
Bruno and Catherine have lived and sailed
on their boat for over 20 years, visiting Norway, Svalbard, Faroes, Iceland, a
winter in Greenland, Newfoundland
America Caribbean and the Pacific.
Noumea
impressions
Jamie: The smoke and dust from big nickel refinery and loading port are
first impression from the sea (second biggest nickel deposit on the planet).
Town is well set up with a few colonial era buildings nice central park and a
fish n veggie market daily (with morning croissants!) near marina. Lots of
tourist shops. Local Kanak community are either rich or (mostly) poor. There is
an anti colonialist graffiti and a strong Kanak independence movement (but when
the referendum is held, will it become independent when France pays for all the
amenities?)
We heard the Kanaks prefer foreign yachties
to French ones. The colons (French new cals) tend to be anti foreign, even anti
French!!
Rejane: For me, the best part of a crossing is arriving, so Noumea was a
great sight. I love discovering a new city in a different culture! Interesting
to see the elegant French women smoking like chimneys, alongside the Kanak
large women in their ‘missionary’ unflattering but colourful dresses.
Dan: The crossing: two days wanting to die, then an enjoyable
wilderness experience, phosphorescence on starlit nights. Sighting land,
perceptions of space and distance change, the earth is a bigger place. Rejane’s
cooking wonders J
New Cal and Noumea: Queensland coastal outback
landscape sweeping down to a coconut fringed paradise. Weird mix of French and
islander culture with its old school colonial feel. Plenty of Kanak people,
young ones into Rasta, keen to sell me weed, ?due to my hair. Retarded
internet, croissants better than at Phil’s bakery. Rich blokes in G strings,
tanned to perfection, hosing down their motor boats.
Noumea
to Ouvea (Loyalty Islands)
Leaving the marina after a week we chugged
round to the nearest bay to sort out Dingo. Here we met Stephen (OZ) and Heidi
(Canadian) on Namarra their 34-foot
Brolga which had been their home for eight years. They came aboard to swap
yarns and gifts, and next day we sailed together to Bay de Priony and we were
thoroughly outsailed by this tiny yacht! They had crossed from BOI to NC 10
days before us and had a very rough passage in ‘enhanced trade winds’ with big
rough seas, which seemed to have dented their enthusiasm for sailing somewhat.
Anchored in Paradise Bay, Rejane and I went
up to the lighthouse, a 2-hour walk through the rain forest, alpine bush and
red terrain scarred by massive erosion gullies.
We then rounded the southern end of New Cal,
traversing Havanna pass to gain the east coast and a series of day sails via
delightful anchorages: Port Boisé, Yaté with its private nickel mine (no road
access, a ship from Japan every few weeks, workforce down from 200 to 15, where
we were welcomed by Dédé who had been there 40 years), then Ouinne.
Leaving at 0400 with moon and starlight to
guide us, we headed out to sea by an unnamed pass for the day sail to Ouvea.
The SE trade wind on the quarter and a good swell saw us into the pass of Ouvea,
‘close to paradise’ with its world heritage lagoon.
We have seen local cricket, admired the
church and various Virgin Mary grottos, met the Grand Chef to ask for
permission to swim bathe anchor walk around (granted with a smile) and a
hilarious ‘guided’ tour of the Lekine cliffs with Felix in his punt.
More photos later as we're running out of internet time!!J
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