Most of the time our world is small. It closes in around us with manmade and natural barriers that limit its size. The horizon reaches only as far as the nearest building or hill, while the sights and sounds around us bring our attention closer in. On QuickStar, the world grows as we head further from shore. When we reach open water the boundaries of the world are limited only by the curvature of the earth; there is nothing between us and the horizon – the world has no limits. While the horizons expand as we head out to sea our lives contract to just the four of us. For days on end we gaze out into the vast ocean but our lives are no larger than those aboard QuickStar.
For five days we sailed from New Zealand with no one and nothing sharing our vast blue seascape. At night, when there is no moon, you can’t distinguish the sea from the horizon and the blackness is only broken by an infinite array of stars that suggest where the ocean meets the sky. The Milky Way takes on a life of its own out here, flowing through the sky in the same rhythm we rise and fall on the swell.
Then something happens and our world starts to shrink again. We are nearing the Minerva Reefs, an oasis in this watery desert that draws sailors to it with a magnetism few can resist. After days of solitude, we start to hear radio chatter, then masts appear in the distance as yachts that have sailed in isolation for more than a thousand kilometres are seduced by Minerva’s promise of a place to be relieved of night watches and constant movement. We navigate the narrow opening and the sea becomes calm. The crew aboard QuickStar are joined by voices on the radio, welcoming new-comers and discussing life at Minerva. The call goes out: “All ships, all ships, this is Domino, Domino. Everyone at North Minerva is invited to sundowners aboard Domino this evening at 4:30. Bring drinks and snacks.” So in an instant our vast world shrinks to the size of a cruising cat and our lives extend to the crews of 20 other boats.
But the true magic of Minerva lies in her natural beauty. We are mesmerised by the clarity of the water. As the anchor sinks 15m to the bottom I watch it all the way down. We can’t wait to dive in and as soon as we do we are physically and mentally revived by her warm, comforting waters. Fish too are drawn to Minerva. As we snorkel around the inner reef our world fills with colours we have missed for many days with nature having given us nothing but blue. The array of tropical fish and clams is spectacular, with reef sharks joining in the show. We didn’t quite know what to expect from Minerva, but we are not disappointed and we feel privileged to be able to experience something so few people will ever see.
After two nights at anchor we head out into depths of up to 3,000m for the final leg to Fiji. As quickly as we had been drawn into Minerva’s sanctuary, we are released to the Pacific which tosses us in 3m waves and 25knot winds, throwing us once more into isolation for the days ahead. By the time we reach landfall we will have been at sea for eleven days. Things have broken, seasickness has struck and the winds have seldom been favourable, but the 2,000km sailed was all worth it for our visit to Minerva.
Bosun