The next stage in our continuing journey was the passage from La Paz, Mexico to Nuku Hiva in the mountainous, volcanic Marquesas Archipelago. This is one of the longest stretches of open water that a circumnavigator encounters.

We had forgotten how beautiful the skies over the Pacific Ocean were. During the day, azure skies with trade wind clouds and the blinding orb of the mighty sun. At sunset the sea darkens to a cobalt blue, the dying rays of a molten orange sun light up the clouds, followed by star speckled heavens, glittering in the dark navy sky with phosphorescence shadowing the boat’s wake. The shock comes when the moon rises slowly out of the ocean, momentarily putting the watchman on alert that he or she has missed a vessel on AIS or radar, only to heave a huge sigh of relief when it is identified as La lune. The dawn creeps up slowly chasing the darkness away, firstly grey then blue skies appear and the intense heat starts to build up.

Passages such as this allows you to think, contemplate life, change plans and most of all, reflect on the past, present and anticipate the future. Time passes incredibly quickly, interspersed with meals, sleep, “chores” and various interests from previous passages are revisited i.e. Debbie’s  “Union Jack” rug making kit bought years ago, remains as work in progress. Meanwhile Stephen gets into intricate routing plans and radio communication log spreadsheets! Fortunately the pair of us love these long passages and we try not to put any time constraints on our arrival at the next port, therefore we get there when we get there. Naturally we make sure that we have more than enough food and beverages on board, a fully functioning watermaker to produce the purest of water, a working generator and “Wally” the hydrogenerator topping up the electricity requirements. Our sails are ten years old and have sailed 60,000 miles……they are not pretty anymore. Repairs are visible, baggy in places and as the material degenerates, we are regularly dropping the sails to patch the tears. Despite this Amelie is a sailing boat, the sails are her propulsion and they continue to function well. We may not be fast but we sail comfortably, safely and we’re not in a hurry. Life is in the relaxed lane, the complexities of life recede, becoming irrelevant, our priorities change and our simpler life gives us new freedom. We do not take this life for granted and regularly “pinch” ourselves. For us this is the lifestyle we worked hard for, that we are enjoying and feel so lucky that we are healthy, fit and “young” enough to continue until we can’t.

After reading our OWR blog about the Marquesas (2013), our excitement grew with fond memories of our time there. It will be different this time, as we have some idea of what to expect, our close friends from the OWR won’t be with us although we are not shy at making new acquaintances and we will be living in various anchorages (rather than passing through) over the next few years. Maybe Debbie can perfect the traditional sensual dancing and Stephen could attend Haka classes with the men!

Previous blogs refer to Stephen’s distaste for seabirds, particularly Boobies, perching on top of the mast, potentially wrecking the instruments aloft. We described his tribal war dance (the Amelie Haka), shouts, armed with the bow hook and clad in a “Peace” sarong, he unsuccessfully stopped them from landing. This issue raised it’s head on this trip. During the day as Amelie stormed through the waves, causing the Flying Fish to take to the air, we watched the Boobies expertly engulf these marine morsels in mid flight. The problem came later when the sun was dipping, the same Boobies looked for a free ride on Amelie. Stephen’s latest tactic was to stand on the cockpit coaming, hanging onto the bimini, rocking the boat from side to side as Boobies engaged their landing gear ready to park themselves. Several almost collided with one another and failed to perch on the wind instrument. Our hysterical laughter was probably the reason they didn’t land, they realised that they were about to enter a mad house. Apart from seabirds (Red-footed Boobies, Juan Fernandez Petrels), trillions of Flying Fish and Striped Dolphins, the wildlife has been disappointing. Amelie’s decks are strewn with dead Flying Fish and Squid most mornings which are recycled in the sea. Stephen has developed a new fishing tactic…….leaving the galley window open and observing what drops through, only a dead Flying Fish. We have been unsuccessful with the fishing line.

The lighter yankee, after so many years of good service finally decided to retire in spectacular fashion, the cloth panels ripped out leaving noisy, flapping straggling bits catching in the wind. At the earliest opportunity, when the sea and wind had abated we dropped the sail and stowed it. Our next consideration was celebrating the crossing of the equator. We decided to recycle the afore mentioned defunct sail and hastily cobbled up two giant blue and white squid outfits. Photographic evidence shows that the reader needs an active imagination and we doubt that the House of Chanel will be calling on us soon for design and dressmaking breakthroughs! It was great fun and “jumping the fence” (as Alan described) was as exciting as the first equator crossing way back in 2013. At 17.03 hours (00.03 UT) on the 20th of March (Spring Equinox) we crossed over the invisible line in to the southern latitudes. 

Our passage making was fast for Amelie, with some of the best sailing we’ve experienced…….it’s up there with the southern Atlantic crossing to Brazil. We avoided the ITCZ (Doldrums) skirting around the area due to the Skipper’s expert planning and barely used the engine, just fantastic trade wind sailing. We managed to get enough sleep and never felt totally exhausted, our watch system suits us well and we haven’t changed it in five years. Typically the menus on Amelie were of the highest standard, eating only two meals a day but healthy, tasty, gourmet style dishes.

The day before we set sail, Amelie celebrated her tenth birthday. She may not be as shiny, with brown dribbles from the anchor locker, rusty anchor chain and small chips out of the transom gelcoat (visiting dinghy parking) but her teak decks are healthy and she is strong, sails well and is our cherished home. We can’t imagine a better lifestyle nor being without her, so Amelie and her trusty crew of two trundle on, exploring and seeking new adventures and cultures.