2 minute read
A CAUTIONARY TALE
made our way into the narrow entrance of this crescent-shaped crater, the water shallowed considerably and became very lumpy. Kimberly easily spotted the surface buoy, and as we made a pass, I decided I did not like the conditions inside the anchorage, so we drove by and came about.
As soon as we started to make the turn, I realized we had just casually sailed into a very sketchy situation. The winds were now blowing 17 knots on the nose; the wind-chop waves that had been working their way across the bay were now a front-line assault against our exit. I pushed the throttle lever down to the cockpit floor and my 2GM20F Yanmar engine gave it all she had. I looked astern; we were about 500 feet from the cliffs of the crater's interior wall (a distance confirmed on our track after all was said and done).
I watched the iPad that was displaying Navionics, and it showed us making less than half a knot of speed. I took visual bearings on each side of the crater's outermost cliffs: We were essentially standing still. I pointed to port hoping to take the waves at a favorable angle and we made some progress, and then we both saw the water turn from cobalt to a very light turquoise as we came very near the reefs that lay atop the submerged portion of the crater's westernmost end. Coming hard to starboard, I could see we needed to get just a little farther out before I unfurled the headsail. We clawed our way forward against the waves and the wind. Finally, I called for the headsail to be brought out to 90% and sheeted flat. I controlled the furling line and the tiller as Kimberly ground the winch and got the headsail as flat as she could, and we pointed up. Our speed increased to 3 knots and we sailed hard into the wind, trying to make headway against the crater's eastern rim. Once out of harm's way, we pointed due east to possibly anchor at Oneloa Beach. As we sailed, I recalled how many times I had shown passengers the difference between the wind when one is running and closehauled. I was enjoying the sailing so much I did not heed the sea state as a warning, even after Kimberly mentioned and we spoke about the comfort of the ship.
Approaching Oneloa Beach, the sea state in the anchorage told us everything we needed to know, so we fell off the wind and pointed for La Perouse Bay, some 4 miles south. As we rounded Nakalele Point, the winds died down to less than 2 knots, and we motorsailed into the well-protected anchorage of La Perouse. Finding a good spot in sand in 10 meters' depth, we let loose the anchor. Once it was set, I stood on the foredeck and marveled at the stunning basalt cliffs that give this anchorage its protection. It will be some time before I merrily sail into a lee shore again while ignoring the signs of the sea. Molokini Crater was a lesson I shall not soon forget.
— james frederick www.youtube.com/sailorjames www.instagram.com/james.the.sailor.man