Day 116 Really tough going

S 19º47 W 159º48 @0830
Mark's accountant in NZ rents several houses in Rarotonga every year and invites several families to join him for a week. This year, he has invited Mark and Molly so she and Kendall will arrive on the 6th. If that were not the case, it is unlikely that we would have continued on to Rarotonga with the weather as it was.
By the middle of last night it became clear that the last 100+ miles was going to be rough. The wind was blowing from the East SouthEast so it was about 45º off the bow when we set a course southwards to Rarotonga. The swells were still in the 10 to 20 foot range and coming from the same direction. Under these conditions, it was impossible to sail directly South so in the middle of the night, Mark started the engine so we could maintain our intended heading. The boat was now plowing into the waves - every third or fourth wave came over the bow and washed down the sides, the boat was heeled over to starboard (leaning strongly to the right) and being pummeled by the waves. Down below in the galley it was very challenging to stand up and not be slammed against the walls. Up in the cockpit it was wet as the spray from the waves was blown across the boat. All-in-all, this was not a pretty sail.
To make matters worse, just as Mark and Andy tried to furl the jib (roll it up) the furling line parted from being chaffed and the jib fully deployed. We spent an exciting next few minutes while I steered and they did an emergency splice so we could bring in the jib.
The rest of the day was spent hanging on and watching the GPS show us that we were indeed making progress. It was a bit like undergoing something painful that you know will stop at a certain point and being able to watch the progress to the end point - so that becomes the focus of attention. When we were 40 miles away from the island I pointed out that we were almost there. The next day, Mark mentioned that this comment was the only thing that caused him not to call off Rarotonga and head North. We spent the rest of the day and night fighting our way South.