Cloud Nine went back in the water at Vuda with a freshly protected bottom and a fibreglass repair that had been overdue since the Galapagos to Gambier crossing, which is a long time to owe anybody anything. I was back from Canada, she was back where she belongs, and for about a day that felt like the whole job.

Then my Shore Crew arrived and we took her out for four days around Fiji to shake out whatever a spell on the hard had shaken in. There were a couple of dives, a visit to Mana, and an afternoon at the floating bar called Cloud Nine, so Cloud Nine went to Cloud Nine and nobody aboard either one thought that was strange. It was a good thing we went. A short list appeared almost at once, and at the top of it sat no gearbox and no seawater cooling. Either one is a show stopper. Together they make a sailboat in the strictest sense of the word.

This is where extra hands earn their keep. With more of us aboard we worked through the list one item at a time, solved both problems, and had everything repaired in time to anchor at Musket Cove as though that had been the plan all along. Then it was time to say goodbye, which does not get easier, and to fill the lockers again.

The weather toward New Zealand was questionable, so I opted for the extended tour, which was my preference anyhow. Vanuatu first. We set off for Port Vila with the wind behind us, and I went to sleep with full sails up and a good feeling about the seas ahead. Somewhere in the night the wind lost interest. The engine, freshly cooled and fully geared, took over, and the forecast said that was how the rest of the trip would go. The sea flattened quickly and the miles went by quickly with it. We came into Port Vila at six in the morning, perfect timing, and by ten I was checked in to the country.

I spent the first day walking around town, lining up some diving, and sitting in on a few hands of blackjack at the local casino. People were friendly and there were smiles everywhere along the waterfront, but Port Vila had a business to it that I was not looking for. So I set the plan to leave the mooring shortly after the dives and head south for Port Resolution.

The diving was great. We saw turtles and amazing coral beds, though there was too much crown of thorns among them, more than anybody wants to see on a reef. The highlight was a large lobster and a gator fish. I now have enough dives behind me to feel fairly comfortable as I dive.

The run down to Tanna was upwind against the trades, a beat in reasonable wind, and I would say it went about as well as a beat can go. It did not start that way. On the way out of Port Vila we lost seawater cooling, the same show stopper from the shakedown come back for another look, and this time there was no Shore Crew to share it with. So I replaced the impeller on the fly, underway, and we carried on with fresh rubber and water coming out of the exhaust where it belongs.

As we pulled out I had also noticed a boat called La Vagabonde just behind us and heading the same way. La Vagabonde is a big YouTube channel and quite a unique trimaran, and as any sailor knows, any two boats headed in the same direction are automatically enrolled in a race that is not a race. Nobody signs anything. The challenge simply begins.

There was a lot of back and forth through the night and into the next day, and by the last five hours of daylight we were side by side. Then the squalls came through, dramatic ones that dropped the visibility to nothing, and every time one cleared she was still right there off the beam. We arrived together in a downpour, dropped our anchors, and joined about ten other yachts in Port Resolution, all of us hoping to see the volcano and enjoy a short rest.

As for who won, it was not a race, and we both know it. Cloud Nine sat on her hook with the rain drumming on the deck, and somewhere up the hill the volcano was waiting. It could wait until morning.