New Caledonia 12th October 2025

 

With my French crew ,Camille and Marjorie, we are on ‘Asinara’ a friends 

40 foot catamaran. We are anchored in the Great South Lagoon marine park

at the bottom of New Caledonia.

Yesterday Marjorie hurt her back while making many attempts to learn to

wind foil and when we get back to Noumea she will need to see a Chiropractor.

Today though she is sitting crosswise in a hammock at the back of the boat as

if it were a swing. She is holding a glass of chilled Chablis while Antoine, 

the boats’ owner, sings and plays the ukulele.

I am lucky to be here and to feel so alive.

 

 

 

 

Australia November 2025

 

Are you superstitious? 

In England, the place where I had my first keelboat, there is a belief amongst

Sailors that you should never set sail on a Friday. This was especially common

In the 18th and 19th Century where ships Captains and crews believed events 

that began on a Friday had a higher chance of ending in disaster.

At 11.30 am on Saturday the 8th November I tied my 27 ft sailboat to the

Customs dock in Brisbane having sailed to Australia from New York, 

via Nova Scotia. A few days later my crew and I made the inland waterway 

channels down to Southport on the Gold coast where we exited across the 

sandbar to rejoin the Ocean for the short 166 mile passage down to Coffs harbor.

We had set off on a Friday.

Here’s what happened:

Despite the forecasted 25 knots of wind it soon increased to 30 knots and 40 in

the gusts. For the first time I was forced by the short very steep seas to run in

front of them with no sails up. We then encountered  a short distance off,

the biggest breaking wave I have seen at sea.

Then we were hit by a black squall which flattened the waves into a beautiful 

oily swell. When it passed there was no wind for a while but when it returned 

contrary to all forecasts it was head on.

Later a warship appeared on a collision course.

In the afternoon we saw a school of humpback whales. Yay! 

Then two of them swam directly toward the side of the boat, Yikes!! 

One went right under our feet and left our legs shaking.

That night, with the wind behind us now, we were heavily rigged with sails on 

either side but had to get it down to alter course for a trawler.

The next day there was no wind. We drifted along the edge of the busy 

shipping lane. “Why didn’t I turn the engine on?” might be a question running 

through your head. Because it had started overheating is the answer so I’d shut

it down, and then there was an electrical fire in the engine compartment.

Luckily when everything had cooled the engine would start, but then to 

my horror it couldn’t be switched it off. Mental panic! Fortunately I remembered 

being shown years ago how to shut it down manually. 

Eventually a slight wind came back. Not enough to lift the flag but enough to fill 

the very lightweight cruising spinnaker.

And that’s how, in the moonless night, we entered and anchored in Coffs Harbor. 

 

 

 

Coffs Harbor 23rd November 2025

 

I’ve sailed 11,873 miles to get here and now there are just 245 miles to go down 

to Sydney. It’s a short distance but somehow I am intimidated by this voyage. 

We are not in the Tradewinds anymore with the wind behind us.

Here they vary dramatically in both direction and strength with not much time

in between. The sea outside the marina breaks heavily on the beach and the wind

roars over the embankment and whistles through the boat’s rigging.

To the South for the past three nights the sky has been lit with sheet and forked 

lightning and I’m glad not to be amongst it.

I’ll be happy to have this upcoming passage done with.

 

 

Sydney Australia 14th December 2025

 

Death is right up in my face these days. Jim O’Mahony one of my closest

friends has just died. I read somewhere if the Earths’ history was compressed

into a year, in one minute most of human history has passed.

On that basis our life span is just a milli second. Less than a mayfly’s.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Laughs along the way with French crew.

 

Bob speaking to a French restauranteur.

Marjorie -“Bob, speak in French.”

Camille- “He is speaking in French.”

 

Vanuatu:

Two people appear together on the beach. A big man with a long white 

Beard and a small dark skinned woman.

“Look!” says Marjorie. “It’s Joe and Lupita our friends from Fiji.”

Bob, arms outstretched running toward them. “Wow!! Hi! Hi! Hi!”

They are total strangers.

 

Antoine our friend and boat neighbor comes to pick us up in his dinghy 

to take us  back to his boat for a cold beer.

I tell him we have to wait because Camille is on the toilet.

Meanwhile her shit floats by his dinghy. No one notices. 

Camille boards and says ‘Oh no! is that my shit?”

 

Isle de Pins, New Caledonia. I’m setting up my tent at the campsite.

Unbeknown to me a pig appears. Marjorie decides to quietly 

chase it toward me.  In the process she trips and falls.

I turn to see Marjorie laying in the sand with a pig running past her.

 

 

Postscript to the dinghy close call at Tonga (see “Lucky to be here”)

 

With Camille and Mathilde ( crew from Tahiti) we’d had dinner at the 

restaurant opposite our anchorage and left with a pizza to go. 

It had been raining heavily and the dinghy was wet so the girls had 

taken their knickers off because they were down to their last dry pair. 

This became obvious to Brian and the crew of “Delos” who rescued us. 

There was also a large pizza floating around the bottom of our dinghy.

“What’s been going on in this boat?” they  were wondering. 

“Please don’t put any of this on YouTube” I asked.

(‘Sailing Delos’ has a million subscribers.)