Toward the Ile des Pins and Nouméa…

It was the beginning of April in New Zealand. We were two weeks into fall. The light and the colors were beginning to change. The temperature had dropped too, barely reaching 10°C at first light in the mornings. After a five month stopover in the land of the long white cloud, it was time to start studying the weather charts again. Jangada is waiting for a weather window while anchored in Opua, in the Bay of Islands. This weekend had been very windy over Northland, and only yesterday there had been 40 knot gusts. It looked as though there could possibly soon be a maximum 5-6 day weather window to allow us to get to New Caledonia. We would have to take the shortest, most direct route. We could forget the planned stopover on Norfolk Island. Although the cyclone season was nearing its end, it was always capable of springing a surprise upon sailors who were in too much of a hurry to get going, with a late but powerful cyclone. We were perhaps about two to three weeks too early in the season. The Kiwi weather guru, Bob McDavitt told us that there was a perennial cyclone risk in mid April. Initially in the Coral Sea and then descending south towards New Caledonia… It’s a known weather phenomenon which is not rare. We could therefore set off, but mustn’t hang about en route… 

In this type of situation, when I’m convinced that I’ve analyzed all the angles, and have then taken a decision, I don’t like to hang around. When a weather window opens up, every hour wasted could count against you. We docked and took on water and diesel and carried out the departure formalities… Our friends came to bid us farewell. This year we’re one of the first sailboats to head north. At 11am on the 6th of April, we set off, crossing the Bay of Islands and hoisting the mainsail. We were off! The crew certainly have mixed feelings. What lies ahead could be a difficult few days. And what a marvelous time we have just had. It’s a beautiful, captivating country with a lovely way of life. Au revoir New Zealand!
As the crow flies, it’s 889 nautical miles from Opua to Nouméa, and the zones for sheltering from cyclones are close to Nouméa. So the waypoint that we would aim for would be the entrance to the southern channel which leads to New Caledonia’s Great Lagoon. The advice that I quietly gave myself regarding this difficult crossing was to maneuver as much as necessary to ensure that we went as fast as possible over the water without breaking anything. The perfect scenario would be to sail into Nouméa’s southern channel after five days at sea. It was the skipper’s secret challenge.

Our first night at sea. Crew morale at the start of our crossing seemed to be struggling with being back to work after our long stopover in New Zealand. It was up to me to lift their spirits. So, I make the most of the night time to cut in half the amount of time that they have for their negative thoughts. It makes my life easier. When it’s like this, I like to know that everyone is safe and sound sleeping below deck, and hope that the pain of leaving the land will heal. I can then get installed in the salon for my first night of watches for months. I check that everything is well organized, get a towel to wipe my feet that are wet from the spray on the deck and after each patrol I slip under a sheet and sleep for an hour at a time. There is no one else about. The flashing light at the top of the mast lets the squid know that Jaganda is sailing a 330° course at 8 to 9 knots. Out of our way!
The next day it was all about slipping along on a sea that had become perfectly blue again, after the murky green waters of the Bay of Islands. Our speed was usually between 9 and 11 knots, although we had reached 14 knots a few times… A large albatross, probably from the Kermades Islands came along to lend us a hand with our maneuvers for a while, before heading off again on its never-ending flight in its quest for food. The sea temperature had risen to 22°.
The wind picked up thanks to a depression over to our east, to the south of the Vanuatu Islands. It was blowing at 22/25 knots with a 3 meter swell.
We have slightly changed our course and are heading for the Ile aux Pins. The weather forecast isn’t bad for the next three days. There are no depressions in our area, and there are no cyclones forming in the Coral Sea. We had definitely planned on a stopover on the Ile des Pins if the weather allowed it at the end of our crossing. The island is on our route, about thirty nautical miles from Nouméa’s southern channels. So, a change of waypoint, a small adjustment to our course, a little further to sail, but here we go. At dawn tomorrow, we will be able to experience the joy of landing. The approach to the coral channels, the reefs,lining up for entry, and then we will drop anchor in the Bay of Kuto, or perhaps Kanumera, in water that’s at around 26°C. Back in the Tropics.

At dawn, it was still magnificent. The Ile des Pins was silhouetted on the horizon, just to starboard. We hoisted the spi for the last twenty miles and left two lines in the water in the hope of catching a fish before we got into the lagoon. If it’s a good size, it can be prepared ideally on the sugarscoop when we’re anchored. And if it’s very big, preparing fillets to keep is much easier when at anchor than when at sea. After our long stay in New Zealand, our fish reserves are empty! A catch just before arriving would ensure that our first meals of this stopover would be fresh ones. Very gratifying! I cast the first line and then ask Marin to change the bait on the other line as I don’t like it. We both agree on an orange and fluorescent green bait. Ten minutes later it’s action stations on board Jangada: both lines bite at the same time, and the noise of the pawls manages to mobilize all the male crew. The fish on the starboard line manages to get away, but the fish to port which took our fluorescent bait appears to be well hooked. It’s a good size, as he manages to take all of our 300 meters of line, despite the brake. Marin can’t get control of the line. The reel is really heating up, but together we finally manage to take control. The battle lasted 15 minutes. It was a tough beast, and he had a tendency to try and jump vertically. It’s typical tuna behavior. Marin fires a harpoon arrow and the tuna hook came to our rescue. We got a noose around the caudal fin and finally managed to haul a magnificent albacore tuna onto the sugarscoop. It must have weighed 35 kilos! We headed off to the right, to the Ile Infernale, and entered into the lagoon of the Ile des Pins. A large cruise ship is anchored in Kuto Bay. Aaargh! Can’t stay here! We head just to the south in the small Kanumera Bay. Columnar pines line the coast. It’s midday. We drop anchor in clear water, five days after setting off from Opua. Mission accomplished!

L’Ile des Pins (columnars), a foretaste of Caillou…

Kuto Bay is the main anchorage for the Ile des Pins. For the mainly Australian passengers on the many cruise ships that arrive, the immense white sand beach offers just the kind of tropical vista that the company had promised.
We preferred to settle in the small, adjacent Bay of Kunamera, just to the south. It’s a little more exposed to the southern winds but is much more peaceful. We anchored about 50 meters from a beach that was ringed with coconut palms.
Arriving at l’Ile des Pins, which is 120 km south of Nouméa was the signal for us to get back into the water after our fresher New Zealand summer. Our first dives in the warm waters of the Bay were fabulous. We rented a car from the quiet and well-run hotel in the south of Kanumera cove and set off to discover the island. It is 18km by 14km and there are around 2000 inhabitants, most of whom are Kanaks. It was Cook who discovered the island on his second trip around the world, and he named the island after the many, rather particular looking columnar pine trees which had grown on the island. The white sand beaches, clear blue waters, the typical islands of Upi Bay and the silhouette of the pines, all add up to form a memorable image of the Ile des Pins. In Saint Joseph Bay we saw our first sailing pirogues and outrigger canoes, and then headed on to the village of Vao before arriving at Oro Bay. We stopped by the Meridien Hotel, one of that chain’s most beautiful, on our way to the natural swimming pool at Oro, where we swam amongst a multitude of unfazed fish. We headed back via the north and west of the island and past the penal colony of the Paris communards who were deported between 1872 and 1881. Around 3000 of them were exiled to this small southern pacific island. After 3 days of relaxation we took to the water again, and took the winding route through the coral reefs of the Grand Caledonian lagoon to Nouméa

Nouméa, capital and New Caledonia’s only town…

In around 10 hours, the tradewinds had pushed Jangada along the marked channel which leads from the Ile des Pins to Nouméa and the Woodin Canal. Close by the red laterite hills which were covered in the vegetation which is endemic in the Caillou, we ran into a few hefty squalls which meant that we had to put in a second reef. In the distance, we could see the first buildings which covered the east of the Caledonian capital. It seemed to be totally outsized, given that all the other localities of Grande Terre were so small. The town of Nouméa has a population of over 100,000, with 165,000 including the suburbs. The whole of New Caledonia has a population of just over 200,000. But the bush starts right at the edge of the town. Nouméa is the only town in New Caledonia…
We approached Port-Moselle, which is the mandatory stopover for sailing boats that arrive in Caillou. Including those that make a (clandestine) stopover at the Ile des Pins. The marina is choc a bloc. With our 9 meter wide catamaran we are hardly welcomed with open arms. … The only solution is an uncomfortable and charmless mooring away from the jetties for the least time possible whilst we get all the formalities out of the way. The chap who came out to explain the phytosanitary rules relating to the protection of species that were endemic on Caillou was very enthusiastic. Barbara was able to whip up an impromptu omelet and the agent left with just the egg shells… he was a willing chap too, as when I took him back to dry land in the dinghy, our outboard motor broke down for the first time during our voyage! And no matter what I did I couldn’t get it started. So, oar in hand, the agent rowed his way back to the Caillou. However, he did seem to see the funny side of the situation. Friends of friends made an ideally situated anchorage available to us in the Orphelinat Bay, and this allowed us to rapidly escape the uncomfortable and rather uninviting anchorage outside Port-Moselle. We headed for the chic areas of southern Nouméa. I soon knew all the different quarters like a local: Vallée du Tir (to test our dive tanks!); Nouville (chandlery); Ducos (industrial suppliers); Magenta (Champion supermarket); Motor Pool; l’Anse Vata and the Baie des Citrons, as well as the Vallée des Colons or the Faubourg Blanchot. However, our home was on board Jangada, solidly secured to her buoy in the Baie d’Orphelinat. For our trips on land, we squatted on a finger dock in the Port-Sud marina. So within 24 hours we had a great spot right in the center of Nouméa. Thank you friends!

Historically, the development of Nouméa owes much to the presence of the Caledonian penal colony which lasted for over three decades (1864-1898). It was situated on the island of Nou, which today is linked to the town by the isthmus where the commercial port is situated. The practically free labor (22,000 convicts were deported to New Caledonia) enabled the colony to clean up the mangroves, and to carry out the major excavation and road building projects which allowed the town to develop. We wander around the Place des Cocotiers, in the shade of the royal poincianas, take a detour by St Joseph’s Cathedral, built on a small promontory and then head to the Bernheim library, housed in a former pavilion from the Universal Exhibition in Paris (1900). The kids preferred to go to the « Jeudis du Centre Ville » on the Place des Cocotiers with friends that they had made at the marina. We only briefly checked out the chic areas of Nouméa, mainly Anse Vata and Baie des Citrons, as they were quite a way from our anchorage. As far as beaches are concerned, while those in Nouméa aren’t bad, we have recently been lucky enough to discover nature’s most beautiful beaches on certain islands lost in the middle of the Pacific Ocean…

However, the jewel in the crown of Nouméa is its huge lagoon. I dream of spending longer there one day, on a trimaran with a shallow draft…