GO Canopus final sea log

These are Captain K's last posts from GO Canopus as she ends her charter for the salvage of Rena. Back "on the beach",  he is looking at new horizons in the offshore oil and gas sector. 900MB of data and photos are coming AM's way and with the non-disclosure now behind us there will be an opportunity to post the 'best of the best' unpublished shots when the salvage was in full swing.

AM

26th June
I was up soon after 05:00 this morning and cleaned my bathroom, in preparation for handing over to my relief tomorrow. I have still not heard who he is, as we have not yet received a crew list of those who are replacing us.
I made a half arsed attempt to pack, but will have to complete that tomorrow morning.
I had my day planned out with everything that I had to complete, prior to arrival in Benoa tomorrow, but as I have long ago learned, the best laid plans often have to be put aside, due to the unexpected.
Late last night I had received an email from the operations manager in Perth, asking me to phone him at 08:30, which I duly did. We discussed the ships security plan in some depth, before he asked me to undertake a desk top security exercise with him and to activate the Ship Security Alert System (SSAS) alarm at 10:00.
After that I was to update the security log with all of the details of the drill and results of the alarm test.
Bugger. I really need this on my last day at sea, like John Kennedy needed to go to Dallas.
The first thing I had to do was locate the 2nd secret activation point, which I eventually did after some extensive searching. These discreet 2nd activation points were required to be installed on each ship, as part of the ISPS code. I wonder how often ships have changed owners and crews since then and with those changes lost the knowledge of just where the hell did they install that 2nd button.
The entire episode took me most of the day, by the time I had completed writing it up and sending it to the office. So much for everything that I needed to do with relation to signing of the crew and updating discharge books, which still needs to be undertaken. Such is the life of a ship’s Captain.
I have taken time out of my evening to update this diary entry though, as it is time that I need to make to record the penultimate day of my voyage.
As I sweated my way through the day of security trials and tribulations, we continued sailing West through the Flores sea on the 8th parallel, passing North of the dormant volcanic island Pulau Sangean and the magnificent peak of Gunung Tambora on Pulau Sumbawa. Again the haze impeded our viewing somewhat, but they were still impressive to observe.
Of all of the voyages in my 35 years at sea, this stretch of water is still holds for me the attraction of being the most scenically impressive. It is such a shame that the peak of Gunung Rinjani on the island of Lombok will pass by us in darkness tonight, as at 3,726 metres high, it is the most majestic of them all.
The departure details of all of the off signing crew arrived today, but I have still received no crew list of those who will replace us.
I have been advised that the vessel will be in port for less than 15 hours and will now proceed directly to Singapore from Benoa, the proposed tow job having fallen through. The 2nd mates have hastily prepared a passage plan for the voyage to Singapore, as the on signing crew will barely have time to get their feet under the table before they are required to sail.
We had no further luck with our solitary lure today, so it was wound up on board for the last time soon after sunset this evening. At least we have the photos to prove that we did catch something. We will leave the lines and lure on board for the oncoming crew to use as they see fit.
My duties call me.
Signing off from due North of Lombok Island, in the Bali sea, for the last night of this sea passage and the penultimate day of my voyage.


27th June
I didn't sleep very well, this last night on board. Too much going on in my mind to be relaxed I guess. That combined with no air conditioning of course.
I was up soon after 04:00 and finished off my hand over notes before tidying my cabin and completing packing my bag.
We had a light rolling motion, so I could tell that the Indian Ocean swell was being funneled up through the Lombok Strait. I have sailed through Lombok Strait a few times in my career, so I had been passed Bali, without actually ever visiting the place. I knew to expect a South Westerly swell from the Indian Ocean, along with a significant southery set through the strait, as the Bali sea flows South through to the Indian Ocean.
I had left night orders to slow down overnight to suit the arrival time of 07:00 at the pilot. We had increased speed soon after clearing Torres Strait, so now had three hours up our sleeve.
I was on the bridge soon after 06:00 and checked that everything was going to plan. It was, other than the fact that the mate had been unable to raise the harbour radio on VHF. That is hardly unusual in this part of the world, so I wasn't too worried.
I completed and sent off my last daily report then relieved the mate on the bridge so he could go down for an early breakfast.
Due to us having slowed down to 7 knots, the current was pushing us southward as expected and we were having to steer 255° to make 240°. In nautical terms that is referred to as having to apply 15° of counter set to maintain our desired course over the ground.
The wreck of a supply boat high and dry on the reef, passed down our starboard side. It was not much smaller than the GO Canopus and like the bow of the Rena on Astrolabe reef, it made both a superb radar reflector and a perfect reef marker buoy. Fair warning all mariners.
The pilot finally answered the VHF and called us in to the pilot boarding station at the fairway buoy.
The Fairway buoy is the outer marker buoy of the harbour entrance channel. This one marking the entrance to Benoa harbour, is charted very close to the shore, rathe than the conventional mile out. It was painted red and white and was very difficult to see, even with binoculars, due to it being so close to all of the multi coloured yachts, boats and waterfront buildings.
We soon spotted a high speed craft making its way out to us and assumed that to be the pilot boat. Not so, as it whizzed us by, rather a rich mans high performance toy. Further peering through the binoculars ahead, revealed the true pilot boat to be a rather sorry looking, beaten up, rusty orange hulled old tug boat, similar in size to the Edward G in Tauranga, but very much worse for wear, barely capable of five knots.
The pilot boarded at 07:22. He was a very amicable young man who had received his pilots training in Singapore. He recognised the GO Canopus as "HAKO JILLION" a vessel that he had pilotted earlier in his career in Singapore. That was her previous name, prior to being chartered by GO Offshore.
It was a short uneventful pilotage, but fairly narrow. I spun the ship around 180° as we approached the wharf and we berthed port side to, so to use our crane to place the gangway.
The pilot disembarked soon afterwards, to be replaced by the agent and customs boarding officer. All of the documentation was in place and in good order, so it was a smooth clearance, until the agent asked for some graft for the customs officer.
We don't carry a bond of booze or cigarettes, so I figured I was immune from the age old tradition of baksheesh. We settled on a case of coke zero and a box of chilled chocolate bars. Probably a lot cheaper graft than many before me might have paid; Johnny Walker Black label and multiple cartons of cigarettes, being the standard currency for this type of transaction.
Several of the crew had declared prescription drugs, which the customs officer wanted to see, but other than that, there were no issues.
Once the customs clearance was granted, the immigration official boarded with the agent. Again everything was in order, this time with no gratuity required.
The new Captain boarded soon thereafter. It was Vadim Finnigan, the same Russian Captain who had sailed the GO Canopus down from Tahiti in October last year. That would make my handover so much easier, him having had previous experience on board here.
I asked him about his most peculiar surname for a Russian; which is a story within itself
His great grandfather was an Irish immigrant to Ukraine in pre-revolutionary Russia, working in the early oil industry. Unlike most, he survived the ravages of the revolution and married a local girl. Hence Finnigan is now a Russian name - albeit a very rare one. Ces't la vie.
The agent had brought a great wad of cash down, so I signed the crew off the articles next and paid them out their expenses and cash advances. They were all millionaires in the local currency. NZ$100 converting to 720,000 Rupiah.
I explained to them that the agent still had their passports which had to be taken to the immigration office for clearance. The plan being that she would deliver them back to me at 14:00 and I would return them to the crew when I checked into the hotel. Some objected about leaving the ship withoutt their passports, however the more experienced ones knew that this was the norm.
As in most countries, seamen paying off a ship are treated differently to tourists (Captains not exempted), due to historical misdemeanours and general poor standing in societies social structure, emanating I am sure from the press gang era of naval history. Seafarers certainly do not have the finest historical reputation. The agent is required to take them direct to the airport for immediate repatriation. No country wants drunken scaley backs causing mayhem on their turf.
So a couple of days of R&R (rest & recreation) requires additional paperwork of both the agent and the immigration department. Possibly also a financial "bond", but I can not confirm that for sure.
They were soon all packed and left the ship by 10:30, leaving just the chief engineer and myself to continue the handover to the replacement crew.
In addition, a GO Offshore superintendent and surveyor boarded, to check over the vessel and undertake an off hire survey. Again, everything had been prepared for them, so there were no major issues, other than for some notable hull indentations and minor structural damage on the port quarter, for which I could find no incident report or record.
We had obviously received a fairly good hit from something, somewhere, sometime, but there was nothing recorded anywhere. A black mark on someones record keeping.
At 15:00, I formally handed over command of the GO Canopus to Vadim, recording an entry in the official log book as such. The chief and I having completed going through the documentation, starting and stopping the engines, changing over to the aft bridge console and going in to DP.
As I knew he would be, Vadim was immensley pleased that I had completed the end of month report and had sent it off for him. No one should have to walk on board a ship and have to complete a monthly report two days later.
It had taken me over an hour to write off the articles, those personnel who were on leave and had not signed off. This was then followed up with entries to that effect in the official log book. All a ritual of a bygone era, long since outdated, irrelivant and superceded, yet still a time consuming legal obligation, required of the modern ship master.
As promisd, the agent had returned with the crews passports and at 15:30 the chief engineer and I walked down the gangway for the final time; thus ending both this chapter in my life on board the anchor handling tug GO Canopus and my literary career.
I will not lose any sleep if my diaries are never published, however I know that in the trusted hands of MP, they will stealthily find their way into the record of New Zealands maritime history.
Hindsight, revelations and retrospection may render some of my recorded observations and opinions incorrect, however I believed them to be accurate with the knowledge that I had, at the time of writing them.
To my friend IM and the fellow members of the Conrad Club, JJ, MP, SS (Antipodean Mariner), HS & JM who have all given me their unswerving support over the past nine months, I owe a big thank you, for the inspiration to continue with this log.
To Husky Hudson, the chief mate on the salvage tug "Bulldog", who inspired a young man to go to sea, a big thank you also.
Now, in the centuries old tradition of jolly Jack Tar paying off and going up the road, I intend to find the nearest bar and relive salty tales with my ship mates, over many a shared ale, amid lots of laughter, so putting the trials and tribulations behind us.


Here ends the tale of the Rena blogger.


Signing off in Bali, for the very last time.

GO Canopus sea log 22nd to 25th June

22rd to 24th June

These two days in the Arafura Sea have been as non-descript as I remember the place to be. Other than the occasional fine period, and meeting a containership or two, it is dull and gray. Certainly nothing to get excited about nor even much to write about. Although the temperature has dropped a few degrees and the humidity with it, I can see people starting to deteriorate both physically and psychologically because of the lack of air conditioning.

I had to relieve the 2nd Mate on the bridge today, as he was so weak with exhaustion and lack of sleep that he was shaking and looked like he was about to collapse. I sat him down with a damp towel draped around him and almost had to force him to drink 750 mls of mineral water, followed by a bottle of ginger beer. He came right in less than an hour, so it was all that he needed.

Amokura, or Bosun Bird

We had a visitor on board today for an hour or so, a very tired Red tailed Tropic bird or Amokura. It is the very first one I have ever seen in all my 35 years at sea, distinctive because of its red beak and 2 long red tail feathers. I knew what it was, as I had sailed on a tanker called ‘Amokura’ [AM - the tanker on the header of the 'Antipodean Mariner' blog] as an apprentice in 1979 and there was a painting of the namesake bird in the officers lounge. Despite its magnificence it looked rather disheveled as it rested and regained its strength, before crapping on the chief mates new paint work on the focsle, then flying off. And people wonder why I call them shite hawks. They always leave their calling card.

I repaired the 2nd fishing lure today and ran it over the stern in a positive frame of mind. To no avail, the fish basket is still empty. Ces’t la vie. I rebooted the faulty DP screen again today and it worked fine. Will leave it on for the remainder of the voyage to monitor it. I received an email today from IMcL on the sister ship GO Capella. Apparently the air conditioning has packed up there as well. That says something for the quality of the air conditioning systems that were installed on board doesn’t it.. We should make landfall off East Timor about 16:00 tomorrow (Sunday 24th), which will break up the monotony of this leg of the passage.

Thereafter it is a coastal passage, with some good scenery and several significant volcanoes. Hopefully we will pass those in daylight as well, but I have not yet checked that. Signing off from the Arafura Sea

24th June

It was still dark when I went out on deck soon after 06:00 to set our fishing lures over the side. Venus and Jupiter were both shining brightly low in the Eastern sky, as the dawn brightened the horizon. In spite of the air conditioning failure, I seem to be sleeping OK, or maybe it is just survival instinct cutting in.

Whichever the answer, I am faring better than most on board. In fact, the only ones faring better than me are the weevils in the galley store, which appeared out of nowhere 2 days ago. The warm humid conditions must have been perfect to hatch long dormant eggs, as there had been no sign of weevils all of the time the ship had been in New Zealand. The cook was pretty switched on about it and separated the different dry stores before throwing out the infested products, which was mainly flour and other dry ingredients. A good spray out, followed by a thorough cleaning of the store and a mop out with disinfectant should have it in hand. Least wise for the remaining few days until we get off. I don’t think there will be too many muesli eaters on board as weevils seem to like muesli type products. Best to stick to sausages and eggs for breakfast. That way, if you get a weevil it has been well cooked beforehand, rather than still swimming in the milk of the cereal bowl.

Most on board, including myself, have taken to eating our meals out on deck, to escape the heat of the mess room, which is directly adjacent to the galley. Although there is full sun outside, at least there is a decent cooling breeze cascading across the deck. All very pleasant really and a world away from the “summer” weather I experienced in Aberdeen this time last year. We made landfall off the Eastern tip of East Timor at 16:00 as anticipated, although we had some of the smaller outlying islands to the north, on the radar for most of the day.

Although it is a quite steep and majestic looking piece of land, the details are lost in the omnipresent haze of the atmosphere. We take for granted in New Zealand, the clarity of the air which allows us to see twenty miles from Trevor’s airstrip to the Opua inlet. Not so up here however, as charcoal cooking fires smoulder 24 hours a day, reducing visibility considerably and dulling the clarity of that which can be seen. It does however make for the most magnificent display of deep orange sunrises and sunsets.

There was a little bit more shipping traffic apparent today, mainly containerships, as Wetar Strait, through which we are passing, is one of the common east / west shipping routes between Australia and Asia. At over 3000 metres, it is very deep water here, considering how close we are to land. We are also encountering over a knot of current on the nose at the moment, probably from the equatorial counter current. However, we remain on schedule to arrive off Benoa on Wednesday morning.

The results of our attempt at fishing remain the same. Still nothing to show for our efforts! I don’t anticipate catching anything off the Indonesian, as this area is extremely heavily fished by the locals. I have started my handover notes and have been preparing a dry dock list of jobs to do and equipment that needs repairing. We have been told that the Canopus may soon have a tow job to undertake from Benoa to Fremantle, then will be returning to Singapore for a dry docking after that, possibly in August. The three month window to complete all of our statutory surveys will end in September, so the docking should not be postponed beyond then.

I have also used these past few days to complete the format of my diary and to wade through some of the more than 10,000 photographs, totaling 18 Gb, that I have taken since October last year when I started this project. I have selected the best 500+ which best illustrate the time line of my log, then will burn both the photos and diary to a disc to save. A select few to receive it, tucked into a sleeve of a collector’s edition of “Black Tide”. There is over 900 Mb of data selected, so I will have to slightly drop the resolution of some of the photos, to ensure that they all fit on one disc. I will also have to start thinking about packing and cleaning my cabin soon, as the last few days will disappear very quickly, with all of the last minute things that need to be done. Signing off from North of East Timor

25th – caught a fish!

Mahimahi form the GO Canopus' lure

Captain K

GO Canopus sea log 21st June

I woke to my alarm at 23:30 as intended, although I don’t really think that I had been to sleep. After a quick shower I was on the bridge for the handover of the 8 – 12 watch to the 12 – 4. As expected we had arrived at the entrance to the Torres Strait channel at 22:00 and by midnight were heading WSW. The duty mate had called up the Reef traffic reporting system and advised them of our planned transit through the passage. All was going well. I explained to the 2nd mate that it was his watch and that I was there to observe. He was happy with that. By 01:00 I could tell that he had regained his confidence and had everything in hand, so I left him to it and tried to get some sleep. I awoke at 06:00 to a most peculiar and unusual motion, of a short jerky roll and waves banging on the hull. It was caused by the short sharp waves inside the barrier reef, induced by the steady trade winds. They were striking the hull just forward of the beam, hence slapping against the curve of the hull. There is no swell inside the reef. There had been minimal traffic encountered overnight, but at dawn we overtook the “Natuna” an accommodation barge being towed at 3.5 knots by the “Lewek Eagle”.

Nantuna and Lerwick Eagle

The Natuna appeared to be similar in dimension to the Smit Borneo, although with significantly more accommodation, a smaller crane and less deck space. The Lewek Eagle is a supply boat, slightly smaller than the GO Canopus. I certainly did not fancy being on either of them. I am guessing that they would be returning to Singapore for a refit or awaiting their next project. They were the only vessels we encountered throughout the 14 hour reef passage, which struck me as odd, as we had been expecting more. When the Islands and channels were first surveyed and charted up here, the surveyors must have quickly run out of imagination when it came to naming them. They are sequentially called Tuesday Island, Wednesday Island, Thursday Island and Friday Island. At least when Captain Cook named Piercy Island (Hole in the Rock) in the Bay of Islands, he did so with a wicked sense of humour. He named it after the First Lord of the Admiralty at the time, Lord Piercy, who felt most honoured, when advised of this. What he didn’t know was that Cook did not much like him and thought Lord Piercy had a hole in the head, hence named the hole in rock after him. End of the history lesson.

Booby Island, Torres Strait

Booby Island was the last Island in the group that we passed and I snapped a shot of it as we passed close by. It will be the last bit of land we see for several days as we head across the top of the Gulf of Carpentaria, through the Arafura sea to the North eastern tip of East Timor. The seaman who had been pooped on the previous day became quite ill last night and I had to consider the possibility of a medivac for him as we passed Thursday Island. It was not needed however, as he had just become dehydrated and came right overnight with water and electrolytes. Everyone is now upping the water intake to avoid the same fate. 


People are now getting a bit cranky and tired after being 4 days and nights without air conditioning. By keeping some doors and port holes open and others closed, we have managed to get a cooling draft flowing through the accommodation. It cools somewhat, but comes a very poor second to air conditioning. Enjoying a beer in the cool comfort of an air conditioned hotel room in Bali is sounding very attractive right now. 


The fishing has not improved at all, in spite of us passing some schools of shoaling fish soon after exiting the reef passage. Most disappointing. We met several ships over the afternoon, two containerships and one bulk carrier. Nothing overly impressive. They probably thought the same about us. We slowed down briefly to allow the engineers to clean the lenses in the oil mist detectors in each engine. They detect any signs of vaporized oil within the crank case of the engine, a precursor to a crank case explosion. Very important that they are clean and work properly.


I refitted the repaired DP console screen this afternoon, with the help of the 2nd mate. It worked for an hour or so, but then reverted to the same rainbow screen fault that had necessitated its replacement many months ago. Not too much more need be said about that is there. We continue to make a voyage average speed of 11.3 knots, however this evening I received instructions from the Perth office to increase speed to arrive at the pilot station at 07:00 27th June. I nudged the pitch up to 80%, which will increase our speed to the necessary 11.7 knots, increasing our fuel consumption commensurately.


Signing off ninety miles West of Booby Island


Captain K.

GO Canopus sea log 20th June

The tropical days without air conditioning are starting to tell on everyone. No one is sleeping that well in the warm muggy accommodation. We still have a week of it to go.

The weather is still directly from astern. So the 20 knot South Easterly wind is offering minimal cooling properties at all. At times the sea and sky are both a brilliant blue, but as we make steady progress North, the gloomy grey sky of the inter tropical convergence zone (ITCZ) has become predominant. Heavy tropical rain squalls come and go, heralded by the occasional bright rainbow. Nothing special enough to write home about though.

Our fishing skills have not improved one iota, with neither lure appearing to be attractive to fish. The home-made lure was showing signs of decay when we hauled it on board for the night, so I will give it a spruce up over the next day or so.

The gannets that have accompanied us for the past few days have now departed. They are not a tropical bird, so we are probably now beyond their temperate foraging range.

A very funny story from last night, which occurred about 20:00 hours, at the change of the watch.

A rain squall had appeared on the radar and was tracking to pass over us. This information was passed over from the existing lookout to the oncoming one.

Soon after the new lookout felt the rain. It was not until he looked down at his wet arms, that he noticed the wet spots were very white. It transpired that a passing flock of migrating birds had found sanctuary for the evening on the horizontal spreaders of our main mast. Prior to settling in for the night they all needed to dump.

The 8 – 12 lookout just happened to be standing downwind and in the wrong place at the wrong time.

I didn’t see him, but apparently he was absolutely covered in it, as were the entire bridge deck, monkey island and foc’s’le decks the next morning. All needed and received a good soogee.

Our noon position today was latitude 10° 19.9’ South, Longitude 145° 18.3 East.

We continue to make a steady average speed of 11.3 knots and we are expecting to enter the Northern Torres Strait channel at 22:00 tonight. We have seen very few ships on this route, but are expecting the shipping to increase as we approach the entrance to the Strait.

So it is an early night for me, in an endeavour to get some sleep in these sticky conditions. The day time temperature barely exceeds 33°, so the accommodation is not stiflingly hot, just still and sticky.

Signing off twenty miles South East of Torres Strait.

Captain K

Go Canopus sea log 17-19 June

Sea Log 17^th, 18^th 19^th June

We are well and truly in the tropics now, and the days are significantly warmer and noticeably more humid. We have maintained a steady speed of 11.3 knots and expect to be at the entrance to Torres Strait at 22:00 hours on Wednesday 20^th.

Noon on the 17^th had us at latitude 19° 45.8’ South, Longitude 155° 35.4’ East.

Noon on the 18^th had us at latitude 16° 34.0’ South, Longitude 151° 53.9’ East.

Noon on the 19^th had us at latitude 13° 26.5’ South, Longitude 148° 34.2’ East.

After working in the equatorial tropic regions for over 10 years, the heat and humidity do not bother me too much. Although I sweat freely, I seem to thrive where most other white men wilt. I do keep up my fluid intake though, well over 2 litres per day.

Everyone is feeling better now that the bad weather is but a distant memory. The only spanner in the works is that our air conditioning system packed up totally on the 18th.

The chief engineer recharged it with gas twice in two days, but there is obviously a significant leak in the system that he has not been able to locate. The result being, we are without cooling on board, other than the two small independent units on the bridge and in the engine control room. It is more than a wee bit warm inside the accommodation, and there will be no respite next week. It will get even hotter then, as we pass North of Flores, getting up to latitude 8 degrees South.

Sitting here at my computer writing this, I have sweat running down my face and neck. No one is getting a restful sleep at all I surmise.

As anticipated, the weather has continued from the ESE at 20 knots throughout the passage. This is almost from directly astern, so is no doubt assisting our speed in some small way, however is doing nothing to pass a cooling breeze through the open accommodation.

We undertook some routine safety drills on Sunday. Abandon ship, Fire fighting and a talk about ship board security. Although there is a recognized piracy problem in Indonesia, it should not be an issue on the route we are taking. There is a greater risk of piracy closer to Singapore, centred around Batam & Bintan Islands. However it is prudent to take overnight lock down precautions regardless, as we have a very low freeboard and would be seen as an easy and soft target to board.

We also undertook a statutory emergency steering drill this morning. It was operationally functional, however as is similar on most ships, virtually impossible to maintain a prescribed course. Regardless of the practicalities of the system, the log book will dutifully recall that the emergency steering system was tested and found to be operationally functional. All satisfactory.

One would not really want to have to steer the vessel for any length of time from the steering flat.

Other than for one unfortunate flying fish being washed up on to our stern roller in the heavy weather and another smaller one today, the results of the fishing have been abysmal. Not a single strike so far on our lure, in spite of them being trolled from dawn to dusk. Due to us being in the open sea in very deep water, there are possibly not many fish around here.

At 11½ knots we are also possibly going too fast to really have much hope of getting a strike, other than from a passing Wahu.

The 2^nd mate completed constructing a multi coloured lure yesterday, so I put it over the stern today (19^th). The only creatures showing a keen interest in them are a pair of mature yellow headed Gannets swooping low astern of us as they complete great arching loops around the vessel.  There was four pair of them circling the lures this evening.

They are certainly a long way from their home at the Muriwai cliffs rookery.

I received an email from IM today. He is flying out to join the GO Capella today, sister ship to the GO Canopus. A very small world. The last time we sailed simultaneously on sister ships would possibly have been the Ngapara and Ngahere, over three decades ago.

Signing off from the Coral Sea, 300 miles South East of Torres Strait.

GO Canopus sea log

'GO Canopus' is sending in a daily report on life at sea on an AHTS as she heads to Bali for demobilisation and redeployment. Here's a few days in a digest.

AM

GO Canopus

12^th June

It was still quite dark when I came to the bridge soon after 06:00. The flashing light from Mokohinau Islands was just forward of the port beam. It had been well over a decade since I had last seen that light, when I had been working on the NZ coastal tankers.

It was a grey dull dawn and remained that way throughout the day, although not unpleasant.

The wind had continued from the West overnight, but backed through to the South East over the course of the day.

Noon saw us past Cape Brett, at the Southern entrance to the Bay of Islands. As the day progressed we later observed Cape Karikari, then North Cape, both as low grey shapes on the Western horizon.

Everyone spent the day securing for bad weather. Additionally, the seamen gave the ship a good wash down, to get rid of the build of grime, mud and dust from our anchor handling and port visit. They also made up two incinerators, from 200 litre drums purloined off the wharf in Tauranga. We will need these for burning the paper and cardboard rubbish build up throughout our voyage; so rubbish segregation is very important.

Our voyage trip will take us from the eastern side of Great Barrier Island on a direct course of 312° to the Coral Sea. We will pass 40 miles to the South West of Norfolk Island and 280 miles to the South West of New Caledonia, all the while heading towards Torres Strait, the narrow gap of water between the northern tip of Australia and Papua New Guinea. We should transit these straits on the 20th or 21st June.

From there we will head across the Arafura Sea, to pass North of East Timor, then through the Flores sea on the Northern side of the Indonesian archipelago. These are familiar waters to me, as I was on a regular run to Singapore through these waters in 1983, on the small tanker “Pacific Trader”.

This route will have us passing north of the islands of Flores, Komodo, Sumbawa and Lombok, before heading down towards Bali, in Lombok Strait. It is a most picturesque passage, passing by some very large and magnificent looking active volcanoes.

That is something to look forward to, but well over a week away.

Meanwhile, the depression that had formed off Brisbane has been steadily tracking to the ESE, so we are expecting 2 days of shit weather from tomorrow. Thereafter we should have pleasant following conditions until we reach Torres Strait.

Signing off from 30 miles North East of North Cape, New Zealand.

Captain K

13^th and 14^th June

As expected the weather deteriorated rapidly overnight. It blew a steady forty knots from the ESE for 36 hours, before easing to 30 knots as it veered through to the SSW on Thursday evening.

The massive swell rolling in from our starboard quarter caused a 'figure of eight' corkscrew, rolling and pitching motion. It was most uncomfortable.

I managed to keep a bowl of fruit down for breakfast and a small yogurt for lunch, but spewed my roast lamb dinner up, after about 30 seconds. Bulimia – twice the taste – zero calories.

Everyone was most surprised when I came back to the dinner table to resume my meal soon after. I felt much better.

Productivity for both days was limited to sending off the daily report and not much else. I tried many time to do some computer work in preparation for our arrival in Bali, but 2 minutes of looking at a screen made me feel very queasy.

Other than doing a meal relief for the mates on watch, my bunk was the best place to be.

On the morning of the 14th we picked up Norfolk Island on the radar at 36 miles off our starboard beam. The 2nd Mate heard on the radio that a racing yacht “Beau Geste” was sheltering in what lee it could find off the island. It had been participating in the Auckland to Noumea yacht race when it suffered serious damage in this heavy weather. Such yachts are built light for speed and are not designed for these heavy weather conditions.

We heard that they had subsequently lost their anchor, so they had to keep motoring. Would not have been pleasant for them.

There was also a mayday call for some yachties missing off Tonga. Poor buggers if they are experiencing similar conditions to these.

As is my usual habit, I felt better on the second day of bad weather, so although we experienced similar weather on Thursday 14th, I managed to eat more, keep it all down and do some work.

By sunset on the 14th, the weather was very obviously easing, although the large South Easterly swell was not abating quite so readily and the corkscrew motion continued well into the night. It was bearable, but only just.

Signing off from Northwest of Norfolk Island.

Captain K

Demobilisation

With 'GO Canopus' off-charter from the salvage of Rena, Captain K penned the following final message before departing Tauranga for de-mobilisation of the boat in Bali. Like a gift that keeps on giving, my heartfelt thanks to Captain K, Captain MP and everyone who has contributed to the Antipodean Mariner blog over the last 9 months.

I was up at 03:30 this morning, after having quite a good sleep. The walk around the mountain last night had had the desired effect. The mates were due to change from 12 hour watches to traditional 4 on 8 off sea watches this morning.

There was a stiff Westerly blowing all morning, gusting to 40 knots at times. At least it was blowing us directly on to the berth, so there was no danger of mooring lines breaking or the ship ranging along the wharf at all. Hopefully it would ease prior to sailing. I don’t fancy going out in the dark while it is blowing forty knots.

Other than for a couple of phone calls about loading enough fuel for the ship to get to Bali, I have not received any formal notification that the project is over and our charter terminated. Most odd.  On Saturday I had ordered some additional charts to get us through Torres strait and to Bali. They are due at noon today, which is cutting it a bit fine. We can’t sail without them.

I have opted to go through the northern passage of Torres strait, which is but an 18 hour transit, rather than the 5 day inner reef passage. The pilot book indicated that the south east trades were the predominant wind pattern through the Coral sea at this time of year, so this route would give us following weather once clear of the northern Tasman sea.

The weather map was not looking good further north. A deep low has formed off the Queensland coast, which will impact us in a couple of days time. All going well, the weather should be on the starboard quarter, which although uncomfortable, should not adversely affect our speed.. In fact, once on the northern side of it, we should benefit from following seas.

It was still dark when the first fuel trucks rolled on to the wharf soon after 06:00. They were very well organised and commenced bunkering us at 06:15.

About the same time, a minivan showed up at the gangway of the Smit Borneo, obviously ordered to take demobilized personnel to the airport. Like any other project, once notice of termination has been given, personnel are demobed very quickly, as there is no economic sense in paying people when they are not needed.

By mid morning, I had confirmed the sailing time for 20:00 hours tonight, to allow time to complete the loaded bunker survey and get things secure for sea. It would also give personnel (including myself) enough time to catch a nap, prior to sailing. Bad form if an incident occurred while departing the port and I had been up without a break since 03:30.

There were lots of little jobs to complete today, but nothing too difficult. We topped up our fresh water this morning, even though our tanks were almost full. No one knows when we will next have the opportunity to fill them.

The chief mate went up the road for some last minute shopping, so I had him post my entire memoirs to Captain MP in Wellington, just as an insurance policy, should something befall me or my hard drives, between now and  when I am due to return home.

 Once the office opened in Perth, I phoned the ops manager and asked him to send me some official notification of termination of charter. He promised to do that, along with issuing voyage orders for Bali. It never hurts to get these things in writing.

The food and dry stores arrived at 13:00 as scheduled and were quickly loaded aboard.

I went with the Agent to rent some DVD’s for the voyage and buy some heavy duty fishing gear. I bought some heavy long line monofilament with a breaking strain of probably in excess of 400 kgs, swivels and large double hooks,– nothing sporting here.

Reminiscent of my days with Dilmun tankers. When travelling at 11 knots, one needs heavy gear to absorb the strike impact of a 40 kg Wahu, Mahi-mahi or Yellow fin Tuna. We can’t slow down or stop to play it or reel it in sportingly.  The crew were quite astounded at the size of the gear I bought, even the experience fisherman 2^nd mate. I recall on the delivery voyage of the Searanger, we pulled in several Mahi-mahi jaws, without the rest of the fish, such is the force of water rushing into a fishes open mouth. Not very nice to think about.

The customs clearance officer arrived at 14:15 and granted us outward clearance 20 minutes later. The advantage of having all of the paperwork prepared in order for him.

All throughout this time, the fuel trucks kept rolling in and out of the wharf, delivering us the planned 550 cubic metres (550,000 litres) of gas oil. The discharge to us was completed soon after 1600. I went on the wharf and took a few photos of us refueling, along with shots of the Smit Borneo demobing her gear. There was nothing special about the photos though, nowhere as impressive or dramatic as many of those I have shot out at Astrolabe reef in the preceding 8 months.

I turned in soon after that, as planned. Didn’t sleep at all, but a two hour lie down is certainly better than nothing.

When I arose, things were well in hand for sailing. The wind was still a brisk WSW’ly, but had eased under thirty knots during the afternoon. An hour before sailing then technician returned our repaired Converteam DP computer screen. I had been chasing it up for a few days, as I needed the external frame from it, should GO decide to replace the wide screen with an original size one. Nothing like leaving it to the last minute is there.

We departed the wharf at 20:01, using a lot more horse power than I have had to use in the past, due to the strong wind. The departure went without a hitch and we were clear of the port half an hour later, passed “A” beacon, heading due North. I thanked the port radio operator for all of their assistance over the months and asked him to pass on my thanks to the pilots and the rest of marine team. It was sad to say my final farewells to Tauranga.

In spite of the obvious tragedy of the grounding, pollution and sinking, this project has afforded me an incredible experience and a once in a life time opportunity. The emotional journey, memories, friendships and photographs will last me a life time. That I had the foresight to record my observations from day one and the courage to continue doing so throughout, is something that I am eternally thankful for.

Hopefully the select few, who I have trusted to share these with, along with my sometimes most intimate thoughts, will feel the same way.

Details fade from the memory with the passage of time, whereas my written word and photographs will remain as an accurate account of events as they occurred. One day perhaps, when the Orwellian nature of the agreement between MNZ and Svitzer has been exposed for the Stalinesque abomination that it is, they will be in the public domain.

Until then though, they remain the Rena blogger's secret diaries.

Signing off from the Bay of Plenty for the very last time.

Captain K.

AM

Storm at Astrolabe Reef

New Zealand is battening down for a storm this weekend, but out at Astrolabe Reef the faithful are maintaining their vigil over the Rena.



Winds are forecast at 40 knots, gusting to 60 knots, and Smit Borneo has been berthed in Tauranga to avoid the worst of the weather.



The calm before the storm - Smit Borneo and Go Canopus (LOC/Maritime NZ)

The condition of the two parts are being monitored as the heavy swells could cause the stern to drop into deeper water - the bow seem to be well grounded and has apparently not moved since October.

Photo: Vaughan Williams, Maritime News Clippings

Any change in status will be posted but this weather system is the worst forecast since Rena sank on 10th January.

AM