We left Port Denarau just before lunch on Wednesday, 29 July, and the ocean clearly decided to give us a proper farewell.

The second we cleared the pass we were welcomed by big, confused seas, winds in the low 30s and gusts nudging 40 knots. 

Fiji clearly wanted us to earn our passage to Vanuatu.

Unfortunately, I had also woken up with one of those “I’d quite like to stay in bed today” moods. Add a lively sea state to the mix and suddenly all my usual anti-seasickness tricks—music, constant snacking and siting at the helm—were promoted from problem solved to merely damage control. To my great surprise, I spent the next 36 hours feeling spectacularly ordinary.

Mark wasn’t exactly in top form either.

The boys, however, chose a different strategy.

Within a couple of hours they’d settled into a full-blown movie marathon, somehow completely unfazed by waves the size of houses rolling beneath us. I still don’t understand how anyone can happily watch a screen while the floor is trying to imitate a rollercoaster, but apparently children possess a level of resilience that disappears somewhere around adulthood.

Thankfully, the weather has since remembered its manners. Our beautifully repaired Code 0 is poled out and quietly pulling us along at anywhere between 5.5 and 7 knots. I’d happily accept a little more enthusiasm from the wind, but at our 2:00 a.m. watch handover Mark and I mutually agreed that making sail changes in the dark sounded like an excellent job for Morning Us.

The other surprise has been the temperature.

After spending almost a year drifting around the tropics, we’ve become complete softies. I’m currently wearing long johns under my trousers, several more layers underneath my sailing jacket, and still find myself wondering how we ever thought swimming in Vanuatu sounded appealing.

Thankfully, we’re not heading there primarily for the snorkelling.

We’re going for Mount Yasur.

An active volcano.

With actual lava.

At this point, that sounds less like sightseeing and more like central heating.