November 4, 2012
After our outing to the Tongan Beach Resort, it was time to deal with the more serious issue of getting back to Neiafu in preparation for the predicted weather front, now due to arrive Wednesday. Since first hearing of it the previous afternoon, we listened to that evening’s Drifter’s Net (the informal radio network of boats making ocean passages) and everyone was discussing it, even using the phrase “tropical depression,” which is a scary precursor to a cyclone.
At this point, the many boats who had already departed Tonga were now being advised to get to New Zealand as quickly as possible and absolutely not to stop at Minerva Reef. (Minerva Reef is a popular stop on the way to NZ, a sort of sunken atoll that is shallow and protected enough to anchor in if the conditions are good). The boats at the back of the pack had the difficult decision of whether to turn around and head back to Tonga or keep going. One boat opted to turn around, and by the next day, so did another.
Meanwhile, Port Maurelle (in Vava’u, about 30 minutes from Neiafu) was packed with boats all having checked out of Tonga and waiting to jump off to New Zealand. A couple of days ago, various weather authorities had given this edict: either leave for New Zealand now, or get to a safe anchorage by Tuesday night. I later heard there had been a discussion among the Port Maurelle boats, and everyone had opted to stay and take refuge in Neiafu except for two boats. One of those boats was the ill-fated Windigo, the other was likely (and I’m not sure of this) Adventure Bound. More on these boats in a subsequent blog entry.
Weather prediction is both a science and an art. There is plenty of information on atmospheric conditions (the science part), but different models will show different things and you have to know how to compare and interpret it all (the art). Rich gives a nice overview of this in a previous blog (link). The further out in the future you go, the iffier everything gets, but weather can surprise you even in the near future (we’ve all seen the chagrined-looking news weatherperson who totally missed the mark and now has to lamely explain why).
A good example of this in Neiafu was with our local weather guru, Baker. When the cruisers are in town, we all tune into his daily weather reports and our plans often depend on what he reports. Weather study is a hobby for him, but he’s pretty good at it. On Sunday morning, Baker gave his report as usual. I was confused to hear him say this thing everyone’s talking about doesn’t look like much and won’t be a problem. Another boat got on and said they no longer even saw it on their weather model. This put our friend Larry (he’s the one who uses Commanders’ Weather routing service) in the difficult position. No one likes to tell an authority figure they’re wrong, but leaving now could be a life-or-death decision and people needed to be fully informed.
Larry got on the net and talked about the reports he was getting. Luckily the weather guru, Baker, is a very nice guy, always willing to listen, and said he’d check into it again today and do a special radio net in the evening with what he found. Later, Baker did do the special net and had to say that Commanders’ was right: this thing is coming and will likely make it here by Wednesday.
It was Sunday afternoon when we arrived back in Neiafu, and I was shocked: it was empty! The only boats left were almost all owned by locals or boats that stay there year-round. You could count the cruising boats on one hand! As it happened they were all friends of ours, and we and opted to get together in town for dinner. Our group consisted of six people (two of them single-handers). We met on the dinghy dock and headed into town, which was eerily (and depressingly) quiet and still. The Aquarium restaurant was now closed on Sundays for the off-season; so we ended up at the Balcony. As we sat, just our small group left, I felt sad and said, “Wow, it’s really over, isn’t it?” Our friend Robin looked at me and said, “Oh, no, it’s not over; they’re coming back!” Robin turned out to be absolutely right.
The following day, boats started pouring into Neiafu. There had been more boats out at the anchorages and in Port Maurelle than I had realized. What shocked me the most were the large number of boats that came back up here from the Ha’apai Group of islands, an overnight trip from the south, into weather. They had the choice to make another overnight trip south to Nuku’alofa or come back here, and they decided this system looked bad enough to warrant backtracking to the most secure place in Tonga: Neiafu.
By Tuesday night, the moorings were completely filled, and the Aquarium Cafe was packed. It felt fun and festive here once again, but there was a serious undertone, too. We knew more about the system now, and that while it would get windy here, we’d be secure. But we were worried about the people en route to New Zealand and the conditions they might experience. The system was now predicted to arrive in the early hours of Wednesday, and all we could do was watch and wait. -Cyndi
(We’ll post more soon about the results of this storm. It was nothing serious for us in Neiafu but it was a major problem for boats at sea.)
