Hello from (almost)Vanuatu! Salt Lines is making her way into Port Vila as I type, with 1541 nautical miles logged since leaving Tonga only 13 days ago. I find approaching shore after an offshore leg is often very bittersweet, with this morning no exception. There’s always the change in vibe onboard as soon as we’re back in cell reception, as the bubble of being offshore is broken and calls to loved ones begin. It's been a really amazing trip thanks to an epic crew and ideal sailing conditions, with plenty of highs and lows from start to finish. 

On Wednesday morning, we checked the updated weather forecast and saw that a massive weather system passing south of us had spawned a front, predicting a significant wind shift set to hit us on Friday night. The forecast suggested that the wind would steadily build and shift from the light southeasterlies we’d been experiencing, making Wednesday potentially our only day to fly the spinnaker. We decided to seize the opportunity!

On only our second attempt, after losing both the tack and the safety line on the tack on our first attempt, we sent the Salt Lines spinnaker flying. We all took turns practicing the helm while flying a kite, and found that our best helm onboard was 16 year old Ruben, who despite having minimal experience sailing before this trip, was an absolute natural keeping us on a steady course. 

This trip hasn’t been all smiles and successes, though. Our resident fishermen have more tales of heartbreak than any sailor deserves. Despite having a line out for the whole time from Walllis to Vanuatu, Jimbo and Andy have yet to land a prize fish. Each time one bites, the fish has fought its way to freedom at the last moment. The crew has remained ever hopeful, with the soy sauce and wasabi ready at hand whenever we hear the reel go off. Jimbo has landed one prize however, when an unlucky flying fish soared right into our rigging and beached himself on the foredeck. Too small and winged to fry up, we sent him back to the sea to soar another day. 

Speaking of soaring, we’ve had a few very unwelcome crew come onboard this week. Every sunset, a few seabirds settle into our mizzen mast spreaders for the night, leaving their mark on the deck and even unlucky crew member, Simon. They perfected their aim so well that they managed to cover the boat’s iPad through an open hatch, creating what we’ve dubbed the “Great Sh*tsuation.” Just another reason to remember to close the hatches at sea!

Thursday brought a new adventure as we broke out the sextant! Andy, Jo, Jimbo, Rob, Aaron, and Shannon each took turns taking sun sights. The celestial navigation exercise received mixed reviews—everyone was enthusiastic during the sight-taking portion, but the number crunching that follows was not quite as fun. If nothing else, it was a new found appreciation for our modern technology and the ease of position fixing from the GPS. 

Friday night the crew settled into the night watches with a reefed main, expectant of the wind and 180 degree shift that was forecasted. Around midnight, Andy poked his head into the aft cabin, waking me up saying there was a “big scary dark cloud” on the horizon and was hoping I could do something about it. Despite big clouds not being in the standing orders, we got up to assess, and found our wind shift. We followed the change in direction around and turned back towards Wallis for a few minutes while setting up for a tack, which was all very exciting in the pouring rain and seas. At around 2 in the morning the wind started to slow back down, and the rest of the night was drizzly and uneventful, as the low pressure system settled in. 

Everyone’s looking forward to a shower, cold beverage and going out for a meal we don't have to cook or clean up after. Vanuatu is welcoming us with its stunning sandy beaches and lush green hills, and we’re all buzzing to explore. Here’s to the end of the leg of the journey and the start of Salt Lines time in Vanuatu!

Cheers! -Liv