Slow and steady may not win the race – but it’s a heck of a lot more comfortable

Slow and steady may not win the race – but it’s a heck of a lot more comfortable!

The types of boat on this regatta are many and varied – a lot of them being performance cruisers (racing yachts converted into cruising boats).

These are light and fast and get places a lot quicker than we can. They do, however, tend to bob around like Champaign corks in a bathtub when conditions get a bit rough. Wildflower II is neither light nor fast. We tend to arrive after everybody else but we bob around a whole lot less.

It’s not Wildflower’s fault she is a bit on the heavy side. She’s made out of steel and no amount of crash dieting can do anything about that. She also has a lot of stuff in her – a decent sized generator, a water maker, half a tonne of batteries to keep her powered up and a huge fridge-freezer that is the envy of the fleet.

The lighter boats have much less in them so they go faster, but they struggle to keep things cool and are constantly working to conserve power and water. Wildflower is also more likely to win an argument with any coral we (heaven forbid) should ever hit.

As you can probably guess, we are playing catch up with the rest of the fleet at the moment – in company with another steel boat (Sara II).

We first dropped behind when we, and another group of reprobates, decided we weren’t going to follow the rest of the fleet from Espirito Santo to Asanvari Island for a festival they were holding there. At the time they left the wind was blowing 20+ knots from exactly the direction we were planning to travel in, which would have made for a slow and uncomfortable trip.

As we discovered on the way to Tonga, Wildflower goes to windward like a walrus takes to roller-skates, so it was pretty much out of the question for us. Some of the other boats were also disinclined to bash to windward, so a group of us stayed put. Sara II bravely decided to persevere but tore their genoa (head sail) in a squall and came straight back..

Unfortunately when we all decided to move on, the wind decided it was going to play silly buggers again. The lighter, faster boats were able to push on through but we were just burning diesel and getting nowhere. Every time we crashed into a wave the boat would pretty much stop – and Sara II was in the same boat (s’cuse awful pun). So we both turned around and headed for Pelikula Bay where we could get a ride into Luganville to pick up a few more supplies and wait for the weather to change.

Sara II’s owners, John and Chris, are a lovely British couple in their 70s. They are great fun to be around and have a wonderful, adventurous outlook on the world. They are halfway through their circumnavigation and are exactly the way I want to be when I am their age. Unfortunately for them their fridge broke down and it turned out to be one of the few things Paddy has been unable to fix on this cruise (mostly because of lack of appropriate parts). However, since our fridge is big enough to fit a corpse, we have been able to take their food on board to keep it cool. Since we both go at pretty much the same pace, we plan to stick together until they can get replacement parts in Vila.

Being a little behind the rest of the pack has in no way detracted from what has been a fascinating trip so far, with the four of us having the opportunity to explore all sorts of villages and bays.

A stand out for me would be Wali Bay on Pentecost Island, where we got to have a look at a land diving tower. This suicidal sport is kind of a forerunner of bungy jumping which involves locals tying a springy vine around one ankle and jumping headfirst from a rickety looking platform. The tower we saw was about 75 meters tall and looked like the mutant offspring of a drunken game of Jenga and pick-up-sticks – you could not pay me enough to jump off that thing!

Land diving is a seasonal sport because the vines are only suitable at a certain time of year. Apparently someone tried it out of season when Queen Elizabeth visited the island a few years ago and it didn’t end well. We arrived out of season but checking out the tower was fascinating enough. Women are not allowed to take part in this lunacy (a fact I put down to them being far too sensible) and cannot touch the tower until the season is over when they can chop it up for firewood. I certainly know what I would rather be doing! The locals gleefully told us how dangerous the sport was, totting up the injuries during the last season. We get the feeling there is a fair bit of peer pressure to jump among the young men on the island.

Wali gave us another example of lovely locals too. Being stopped by people who genuinely just want to say hello and have a chat is taking a bit of getting used to – but we like it!

Another great spot was Ranon on Ambrym Island. There are two active volcanoes on Ambrym which shroud the top of the island with puffy white smoke and give off an eerie red glow at night. Ranon sits under the volcanic Mt Benbow, which you can climb up with the aid of a guide if you are feeling particularly adventurous. An Australian couple who tracked us down after hearing Paddy on the radio (they couldn’t get theirs to transmit and thought he sounded like he knew radio stuff – he fixed it for them of course) told us the walk was great but took 12 hours. Since we were still playing catch up we decided to give that one a miss (it had nothing to do with us being unfit and lazy)

We did go ashore to check out the village though, which is famed for its carvings. They produce these huge creations called Tam Tams (kind of a cross between a totem pole and a drum) which I really like because they have big googly eyes that make me think of Muppets. There are large ones lying all around the island made out of coconut trees or hardwood and local carvers produce beautiful polished pieces that would look wonderful in a garden. The larger pieces were too big for the boat but we met a couple of local kids who took us to their village where they had smaller pieces – and two kittens which gave me my catlady fix (the kids thought this was hilarious) – so I managed to score a beautifully carved mini Tam Tam (about 30cm high) and a little Tam Tam necklace for the equivalent of $NZ 15. I love that I’ll be able to look at them and know exactly where they came from and who made them.

We did eventually get to Asanvari too and, while we missed out on the festival, we were treated to some very cool custom dancing, took a walk/climb up to a beautiful waterfall and were able to stock up on fresh fruit and veges from amazing gardens that put any of mine to shame.

John, Chris and I did the waterfall walk while Paddy stayed on the boat to do some sail surgery. Our guides were two little girls – Lisha and Angeline – who I suspect were part mountain goat. They bounced effortlessly from rock to rock (one barefoot and one in jandals) in places where Chris and I had to resort to going down on our bums, and I am guessing that it was hard work for them to refrain from bursting out laughing. They did a great job and the view from the top was well worth it. We could even spot Paddy working on the sail from there.

We were also given a tour of the island’s school, which only really had the bare essentials. They were in the process of building a school library because they lost most of their books in a cyclone. They were using materials supplied by some people who came out for a diving holiday and transported for free by the dive operator, which I think is really awesome. We still had some of the books we had picked up in Opua and we were happy to be able to help out in some small way by donating them. It was the school holidays but the head teacher took time out to show us and some people from a cruise ship. His tour included very proudly showing us the class that his wife taught. When one of the Australian tourists asked what she taught he said “Classics.” Needless to say the rather educated sounding, middle aged woman was quite surprised. Her response was something like “Well I studied Classics at school but I am surprised that you teach it here.” In the ensuing awkward silence I happened to notice the large number 6 on the door of the classroom and realised she actually taught “class 6”!

My final stand out spot is the bay we are at right now, Lamen Bay on Epi Island. This is a beautiful bay with a lovely village where you can buy fresh bread and some vegetables – but its best feature, as far as I am concerned, are its critters. The bay is full of big beautiful turtles. All you need to do is pop your snorkeling gear on and jump off the boat and within a few meters you can see them swimming about or munching on the grasses at the bottom of the bay. You can also spot them coming up for air from the boat itself. The turtles are pretty used to people and don’t even interrupt their lunch when you swim up to them. They are even quite happy to let you snorkel down and give them a pat. I think they are just beautiful. Lamen Bay also has a resident dugong which is apparently quite people friendly too. I haven’t managed to spot him yet but even if I don’t the turtles more than make up for it!

We are thinking of you all back then and hope things are going great. There will be annoying amounts of photos to come once we get some decent internet connection in Vila.

Lots of love,

Anna and Paddy

PS – those of you who get Paddy’s e-mail updates as well will notice I have pinched some of his words for this – hey, the man has hidden talents, and it’s not plagiarism if I admit it, right? 😉

Million dollar waste

Luganville in Vanuatu boasts a couple of sites that are on many divers must-do list – the wreck of the President Coolidge and Million Dollar Point.

The Coolidge, a 200 meter long luxury liner, was sunk during World War II in a case of friendly fire (it struck an American mine – though the own goal wasn’t publicised until much later). Fortunately there were very few casualties. The ship however was totaled, leaving divers the opportunity to check out weaponry, tools, and a swimming pool, a porcelain statue known as The Lady and the personal belongings of the 5000 soldiers who bailed out of there as fast as they could.

The Coolidge site is quite deep and if you want to see much further than the outside then you need to do a decompression dive, which I am not qualified to do yet. So, while some of the cruisers checked it out, I gave it a miss.

Paddy has a horror story about diving the Coolidge during an earthquake that put me off a little as well. He was inside a lift shaft at the time which silted up completely, leaving him unable to see the light from the torch he was shining right into his eyes. Then the dive guide wrapped Paddy’s hand round something and left him there while he looked for the other divers. While everybody did get out safely, as far as I am concerned sitting in a black lift shaft deep under water, unable to tell which way is up, where the exits are or how much air you have left is the stuff nightmares are made of. It has cured Paddy of deep penetration wreck dives and I think probably me too!

Million Dollar Point however is a nice easy shore dive that doesn’t go below about 25 meters and, in my out-of-diving-practice state, I figured it would be more my sort of thing.

The story behind Million Dollar Point does make you despair about mankind a bit though. It dates back to the end of WWII when the US navy pulled out of the Pacific. The Americans left behind thousands of tones of military paraphernalia that wasn’t worth their while taking home – but at the time Vanuatu had both a British and a French government and neither could make up its mind who was going to pay for the gear. In a fit of pique over this the US navy decided nobody was going to get it and dumped everything into the sea. So cranes, bulldozers, tanks, trucks, boats and an entire field hospital are now disintegrating on the ocean floor.

It makes a great dive site (once you are able to work out what the twisted bits of metal actually are) but it’s such a senseless waste. The people here don’t have a lot and probably had even less back then. Who knows where they would be now if they had actually been able to make use of that infrastructure and health care?

Paddy and I met an Australian couple who were using their boat to provide transport for doctors visiting the islands. The medics come from overseas, set up in villages and in some cases spend days doing conveyer-belt consultations and operations. There is such a need that they just have to churn people out one after the other.

We were told that one of the reasons ni-Vans have such poor health is dehydration. They simply don’t drink enough water. Ironically it is water that is one of the other leading causes of illness here. When villages build wells they just dig a hole in the ground, instead of lining them with stone (I am guessing mostly because they lack the raw materials). The stone filters the greeblies out of the soil and helps purify the water. Without it run-off in the form of pig poo, chicken poo and people poo leeches into the soil and makes people sick.

Its little things like that I never would have thought of and it’s such a shame because the people here are so lovely. When you are in towns or villages and people come up to say hello it’s not “hello I want to sell you something” it’s just “hello.” They seem genuinely interested in who we are, where we come from and where we are going and, despite what they lack, they always seem to be smiling.

On a slightly lighter note, the dive at Million Dollar Point was very cool, even if it did make me feel sad. Lots of fishies and coral have taken up residence among the tires, tanks and number plates, which makes a lovely juxtaposition. Also, I surfaced with nearly the same amount of air as Paddy, which is a record. Paddy barely breathes (I suspect he is hiding a pair of gills somewhere), while I usually hoover air in the same way my cat inhales food – so I must be getting better!

Paddy had a WWII find of his own as well when we were snorkeling at a little bay on Aese’ Island. He spotted a bottle buried in the sand which turned out to be a WWII era Coke bottle. There were crates of them dumped at Million Dollar Point but most have been souvenired (we also noticed quite a few popping up in souvenir shops in Luganville). You can tell it’s the real deal because the bottle is shorter than the remake ones they did and it comes in fluid ounces instead of mls – so we thought it was a pretty good score.

We’re thinking of you guys back home and hope you are managing to stay warm. We are struggling with the humidity a bit at the moment (it doesn’t get much below 30 degrees and 70/80 % humidity) but are acclimatising more and more each day. I honestly have no idea how I am going to cope when we get back to the real world. My money is on me having a cold or flu within the first week of being back! xx

Wellington to Auckland in pictures

Our neighbours Mike and Dani wave us off
 
Yay!! It looks like I’m able to upload photos again so I am going to stuff as many as I can into this post. The technical difficulties may have stemmed from the fact that the wifi antenna at the yacht club was left sitting on a rather jaunty angle after some rather gnarly winds swept through here. It appears to be upright again now, so fingers crossed!
 
Paddy with our shiney new NZ ensign flag ready for duty
 I should probably also mention that I have Cal the travelling good luck troll with me as I upload, so credit where credit’s due 🙂
 
Fergus takes the wheel
 
Night watches were a little chilly until we got further north!
 
First mate Fergus
 
Heading round East Cape
 
East Cape
 
 
 
Fergus hoping in vain for some wind to blow us around East Cape

 

It's a tough life!
 
Leaving Whitianga after refuelling due to lack of wind
 
Paddy playing with his navigating toys

 

 

Sun setting over Needle Rock leaving Whitianga
 
Needle Rock
 
A slightly salty sunset
There are some much better sunset shots from the Opua trip!
 
 
Auckland skyline - lots and lots of lights!
 
The awesome orange flowers work gave me before we left
Okay, so the last shot has nothing to do with the Welly to Auckland trip – I just really like the flowers!
 
 

 

 

Patience is a virtue…

Leaving Wellington - oh so long ago!
 
Sorry guys! WordPress seems to hate my photos at the moment so this is all you get (will try sticking them up on Facebook)

Well my idyllic introduction into the world of cruising has been a little less than idyllic.

It has, however, been an amazing learning curve  and certainly hasn’t been boring!

We are holed up in Opua with the rest of the fleet at the moment and it doesn’t look like we will be out of here any time before Friday. The weather, not to put too fine a point on it, has been complete arse – interspersed with the odd fine patches.

Apparently this has been the longest time the Island Cruising Association has held off on leaving and one or two skippers are definitely getting a little bit twitchy! The good news is that from Friday onwards we should be heading into a great big high with just the right amount of wind blowing in the right direction – ie perfect sailing conditions. Most people (particularly those of us who had a bit of an uncomfortable trip up here) are more than happy to hang around for the good stuff!

The only real issue is boats with crew who have a set amount of leave and have booked flights back from Tonga – though it looks like our crew will be okay – thank goodness! It sucks for some people who pretty much have to turn around and go back as soon as they arrive but, as I am fast learning, that is the nature of cruising!

Poor old Paddy had this lovely vision of us having a b beautiful sail up north, which would help me become more of an experienced boat-chick for the trip offshore. Unfortunately. the weather had other ideas.

We either had no wind at all or it was blowing from the direction we wanted to go in – making for a couple of lumpy nights.

I’ve had some great help through the scarier bits from both Paddy and a friend of ours Fergus, who was kind enough to help us take the boat from Wellington to Auckland and Auckland to Opua. Fergus was really patient with me jumping at shadows and was a brilliant help when it came to the early morning watches. I definitely think I would be in a much different headspace going in to this if it wasn’t for him!

For the first couple of days out of Wellington both Paddy and I were rather jumpy. Paddy was up and down like a meerkat checking out the boat’s every little whirr and creak and I was making myself nervous about having to do night watches.

For my first couple of night watches I was hyper-vigilant, jumping at stars and shadows, thinking they were land or other ships. At one point I dragged Paddy out of bed because I spotted the port light of a HUGE ship that wasn’t showing on the radar and was heading straight for us. It turned out to be the moon rising.

 (I have since discovered this is a common rookie mistake so I don’t feel so bad!)

After a while though I realised that things happen pretty slowly out at sea and looking around every 10 minutes is just fine. Once I got a little more relaxed about it I was able to set up an alarm, put my ipod on and lie back and watch the stars, which was quite lovely.

I have to admit there were times when things were a little challenging for me on that trip. We had quite a few fishing  boats lurking around in the dark during a particularly lumpy night when the wind was against us, and they did make me a bit panicky. We were also shepherded out of the way by a ridiculously long vessel we later discovered was a ship towing a 10 kilometre cable doing a seismic survey. We suspect it was the Petrobas boat, which could be why it didn’t radio to tell us what it was up to  – it probably thought we were protestors, but all we wanted to do was get out of its way!

Navigating our way into Auckland harbour at night was also pretty exciting. We wouldn’t have done it the way we did if we didn’t have Fergus’s local knowledge, but he was able to expertly guide us on a rather interesting course. The scary thing about heading towards Auckland is that there are so many damned lights it seems impossible to see which ones apply to you – what I thought was a navigation buoy tur ned out to be the Skytower!

It took us four days to get to Auckland and we arrived at 5am, absolutely knackered. Fergus’s wife Dianne had managed to secure us a  berth next to their boat in the marina (they are both live-aboards too) and we had a Champaign breakfast – minus the breakfast – to celebrate completing our first leg, before falling into unconsciousness.

We camped out at Bayswater Marina for a few days waiting for a window in what was already looking like some pretty crummy weather. It worked out great for us though. We were literally able to step off our boat and onto Fergus and Dianne’s, where we had some delicious meals (Dianne is a primo cook!) and great company. Dianne also gave me lots of helpful tips for cruising survival and some bread recipes I’m looking forward to trying out.

I also had a surprise visit from quite a large chunk of my family, some who live in Auckland and even an auntie from Australia (will post pics when WordPress loves me again) which was really lovely.  So Paddy got to meet the family, all at once, in a very small space! He did very well and I have a sneaking suspicion they might quite like him 😉

Mum and Dad came to check out the boat before heading off to meet us in Opua (which is just as well because we couldn’t get a marina berth in Opua and had to anchor off and I don’t think Mum fancied a lumpy dingy ride!) They’ve spent the past few days with us, which has been really great and even arranged for a bit of shore leave for me.

Hanging around in Opua has been really interesting actually because it has given me a good insight into the sailing community here and the people we will be travelling with.

The next blog will be an Opua special (including the trip over) and hopefully I’ll be able to get some photos up as well  xx

Lots of thank yous and a blog-pology

I apologise in advance for what will probably be a sorry excuse for a blog.

I have enough material and photographs to write about 10 of the things on our last few weeks of preparation, but  we have pretty much run out of time – so you’re not getting any of them.

I do promise a huge blog backlog when we get to the islands though!

At this stage it looks like we will be leaving for Auckland on Monday. That should take 4 to 5 days, and then we head for Opua. From there we will sail on to Tonga around April 30.

I have to say this unemployment lark has not been living up to its reputation at all! (Although I’m not technically unemployed as I am taking unpaid leave from my job)

Instead of sitting around smoking pot and playing playstation (or whatever else our lovely minister of social development believes unemployed people do) we’ve been getting up earlier than did while we were working and have been going round the clock getting Wildflower ready to leave. Paddy even ended up pulling an all-nighter rewiring the engine panel!

At this stage it looks like sailing across the Pacific is going to be the easiest part of the whole process! (touch wood.)

There have been a few speed bumps on the road to paradise (like the company we insured the boat with going bust and me thinking my cat had done a runner) but everything has been sorted now.

We have been given the okay by our new insurance company, and just minutes ago Wildflower had her category 1 status sign off – woo hoo! (there is a whole blog waiting to be written about this, but it will just have to continue waiting for the moment.)

I know I have been a bit of a stress bunny lately – and I would just like give a big thank you to my family and friends who have helped and supported us and put up with my twitchiness.

I would also like to thank those people (and tradespeople) who have gone the extra mile to help us out and who gave us faith in humanity when others were stuffing us around.

In the wonderful people category I would like to include;

Mike  our lovely next door neighbour – an engineering geek like Paddy – who has been over on our boat day and night helping weld stuff and mount stuff and who lent us his 4W drive to help clear out one of Paddy’s sheds. We will be meeting he and his wife Danica in New Caledonia and they will be sailing back to NZ with us, which should be a lot of fun.

Jenn and Trevor for helping us out with the (increasingly frustrating) job of getting the cockpit cushions sewn. In the end it turned out that we were working with a sewing machine that was in need of a serious tune-up – so Jenn’s infinite patience and Trevor’s help in eventually out-sourcing the work was very much appreciated.

Rebecca and Jared for helping me out with the grocery shopping trip to end all shopping trips at Moore Wilsons to stock Wildflower up for the journey.

Paddy’s Dad David for looking after my fur-child Ollie while we’re gone. It makes me feel so much better knowing he will be living in a place that he knows, where he will be looked after and fussed over rather than being shoved in a cattery.

My Mum and Dad, for supporting me through all the lunacy. Mum for staying strong and supportive even though I know this trip worries her and she will find it hard to let us go (we will be fine though!) and Dad for going back to school to get his amateur radio licence so he can talk to us out at sea. Oh, and one more for Mum for letting Dad put a dirty great pole in the middle of her garden to aid in said communication!

(there is a blog – and photos – on this to come!)

In the wonderful tradies category I want to include our international boat building family (Gregor the Maltese welder and David the Chilean carpenter) for all their hard work making Wildflower safe and beautiful inside and out.

Grant Henderson who managed to tame our recalcitrant sewing machine and even made us a repair kit to take away with us, should it need further ‘persuasion’ (for the record, the machine is running beautifully now.)

Dave and Ian from Wellington Providoring who have also been a great help.

 Finally I would like to thank Paddy for building a beautiful boat for us to go away in and for working so hard to make sure that it is safe. Also a huge thank you for being there for me when I became a crumbling wreck after I thought Ollie had run away. To be fair (even though he probably has better eyesight than me) an 80 year old man looking for a black cat that likes hiding in dark places was always going to be a big ask – but I wasn’t about to see sense. I think it was the final push that broke down the damn holding the stress, tiredness and nervousness in and I just needed to wail like a banshee for a bit. I’m fine now (and the cat came back) and feel heaps better for it, and Paddy didn’t run away screaming, which is always a good sign!

Hopefully we will be able to jump online some time before we head to the islands, but if not. I’ll write again when I’m lazing under a coconut tree drinking something with an umbrella in it 🙂

One for the stalkers

Just a quick entry because I am in the middle of house packing hell at the moment.

This one is for the nervous family members, nosey parkers and stalkers among you (you know who you are! 😉 )

The Island Cruising Association has set up a way for people to see where in the ocean we are as we travel.

This running fleet position reporting is done through a map on a website called Skipr.net, which will follow us as we progress on each leg of the trip. It’s free so friends and family can use it to have a perve at where we are, and it’s pretty easy to use.

* First go to the skipr.net website here: http://skipr.net/

* In the box that says “where is that boat?” type in Wildflower II (long story and the subject of another blog) and press ‘search’

* You’ll see a picture of us with a map next to it. There is an upsidedown teardrop on the map that shows where we are (at the moment it says Chaffers Marina Wellington)

It’s pretty basic at the moment but we will add more information and pretty pictures when we have a bit more time.

A few of you lovelies will be meeting us on various islands to dodge the winter for a bit – and no doubt we will be missing you all by then. For others interested in hanging out in pretty places with us for a while, here’s our itinerary –  there are lots of cheap flights to the Pacific on at the moment and we would love to see you xx

12 hacksaw blades and don’t skimp on the buckets

Yesterday I learned that you cannot leave this country in a boat unless you have 12 new hacksaw blades and four buckets on board. This is just a small sample of the demented shopping list we need to check off to get Wildflower up to category one standard so we can legally go offshore.

One or two hacksaw blades I can understand, but 12! What on earth for? Are we going to need to break out of prison? Is there an island I don’t know about that barters in hand tools? Are we going to be boarded and demanded to produce the requisite number of hacksaw blades?

The buckets make a little more sense – they can be used for bailers or collecting sea water and make excellent receptacles for queasy passengers (which I can sadly vouch for from personal experience…) But even if you are sailing single-handedly, you still have to have four of the things – offerings for a passing lolrus perhaps?

Along with the hacksaws and buckets, category 1 also involves spending thousands of dollars on equipment we don’t ever want to use. Flares, lifeboats, fire extinguishers and flashy beepy locatory things all have expiry dates on them – so you buy them and (all going well) don’t use them, only to have to chuck them out and buy new ones that you don’t want to have to use – a little perverse really.

Also, it turns out that New Zealand is the only country in the world where you have to meet a required standard before you can leave on a boat – and, while I would like to think this is because we are a particularly safety conscious nation, it probably has more to do with the fact that New Zealand covers the largest search and rescue area in pretty much anywhere. If people get in trouble in their patch then a lot of money is spent getting them back – and it’s  a pretty big patch!

Our search and rescue patch

So mother, you can rest assured. I will be leaving New Zealand in a ridiculously safe boat!

On a different note – a couple of people have asked me if the quake in Christchurch has put me off going on the trip, and I have to admit there were a couple of moments (and I recognise them for what they were) when I didn’t want to leave because I was afraid  something else might happen while I was gone. But I know that is something that, even with all the willpower in the world,  I have absolutely no control over.

What I do have control over (and what everyone does) is my fear. And a perfect example of that is Christchurch. Watching life doing its damnedest to go on when I was down there at the weekend was truly awe-inspiring.

You can’t live a life of what-ifs, because you never know when a boulder is going to roll into your living room and sell on TradeMe for $60,000. If the quake has taught me one thing it’s not to put off what’s important. Do the things you have always wanted to do, tell the people you love that you love them, don’t hold anything back because you never know what’s around the corner. If the people of ChCh have the strength to pick up their lives and keep going, then I sure as hell can run away to sea with the pirate I love and have a life-changing experience.

I’m a Cantabrian born and bred, and every day we are seeing how tough that lot are!

Anna vs the machine

Being about as practical as a rollerskate on a walrus, it will come as no surprise to many of you that mastering Paddy’s industrial sewing machine has proved a bit of a challenge for me.

That machine has an amazing ability to turn me into a swearing, sobbing, fabric munching, bobbin snagging monster. I don’t like it when i can’t do something and when something as simple as sewing a straight line flummoxes me, I become a very angry, frustrated little person.

But last weekend, I actually managed to complete something useful

Paddy quietly worked on his generator while I cursed and spat at the machine in an attempt to make drawstring bags to secure various bits and bobs onto the boat. It didn’t help that I’d left Paddy’s canvass-sewing-for-dummies book at home and that every ‘how to make a drawstring bag’ page on the internet started with “this is a great project for a child learning to sew” – and hardly any of them had pictures!

Now I like to think I am a reasonably smart person, but when it comes to reading technical stuff – I’m not the sharpest tool in the shed. So when something that was supposedly so simple that a child could pick it up just wouldn’t compute at all, I started getting pretty shitty with myself. In the end Paddy took pity on me and helped me make the first one (admittedly after a fair bit of “I should be able to do this myself dammit!” protesting from me) and once I actually saw one physically done, it made much more sense to me, and the rest were much easier.

One of the cool things about canvas is that instead of cutting it, you melt it – which means you get to burn along the edges with a hot-knife (kind of like one of those poker machines you use to make pretty designs on money boxes in woodwork at school.)

Burn baby burn!

Industrial sewing machines are quite grunty too – because they have to sew things like sails – so it was a wee while before I managed to master the art of the straight line…

Look! A straight line!

…and was pretty proud of myself when I did!

Okay, so they are only small – but they are something useful, and I made them myself!

The next step is a little more complicated and I will be enlisting the help of a lovely friend of mine Jenn, who knows a little more about this sewing lark than I. We are going to get stuck into the cockpit cushion covers, which should be a challenge!

Unfortunately, after celebrating my success with the drawstring bags,  I got a little cocky and tried to sew together a couple of lee cloths (basically a bit of netting that stops you rolling out bed when the boat gets a bit wobbly) but unfortunately and this point the sewing machine decided it didn’t want to play anymore and stubbornly refused to sew.

No matter what I tried it didn’t work and Dr Paddy ended up having to take a look under the bonnet.

Paddy operates on my nemesis
Checking under the bonnet

When this didn’t work we both decided it was probably time to put the machine away before one of us threw it at something. When it still wasn’t working days later, Paddy was muttering about taking it back to the guy he brought it from and I was convinced I was jinxed and had destroyed the thing.

But on a flight to Auckland Paddy had a Eureka moment. He was reading the  instruction manual on the plane (as you do…) and discovered that sometimes when sewing particularly thick material the machine’s timing can go a bit skewiff. The actual answer is much more technical but went in one ear and out the other – so I will leave it to Paddy to explain in the comments for anyone who is interested.

So I haven’t killed the machine, its sewing again and the big stuff is yet to come – will keep you posted.

Our boat has six eyebrows!

Over the past lord only knows how many nights, Paddy has been lurking in his shed pasting fibreglass into moulds and inhaling all manner of chemicals.

This has all been in the name of plastic surgery for Wildflower – eyebrows to be precise.

Like eyebrows for people – which are designed to keep sweat out of our eyes – eyebrows for boats are designed to keep water (rain, sea spray) out of open windows.

 

Monobrow!

 

This weekend we got the chance to complete Wildflower’s facelift and since so much work went into these things I feel the event should be documented.

Paddy with two of his creations

 

Paddy was so persnikety about his work that we even ended up with a spare – one perfectly fine specimen hit the cutting room floor just because it had a couple of tiny green splodges.

 

The successful candidates

 

Like plastic surgery, you have to mark where the work will be done…

 

Eyeliner
Emo Wildflower

 

And then there’s the heavy-duty eyebrow trimming

Slightly more hardcore than tweezers

 

 

And finally the application.

 

 

Perfectly sculpted eyebrows

 

 

Don't hate me because I'm beautiful
The bandages will come off tomorrow and an extra layer of sealant put around the edges and she’ll be good to go.
It was a labour of love for Paddy but he did an awesome job. The amount of work he’s done to make Wildflower what she is is phenomenal. I’m really proud of him – and his beautiful boat.

 

The countdown begins

It’s 2011 and it’s official – we are running away to sea in a matter of months.

I am excited, exhilarated and scared out of my mind.

Sorry Mother but this is not a window to try to talk me out of this! 😉 It’s a stock-take of my own capabilities – where I am now and where I need to be in a few months time when Paddy, Wildflower and I take on the briny deep.

This is really happening. I am stopping work, putting my life into storage and disappearing for eight months. It’s one of the biggest, maddest things I have ever done. I’m not going to lie to you, it’s scary – but scary in the most thrilling way!

We spent a fabulous week over New Year’s sailing around the Marlborough Sounds, which gave me the chance to hone my practical skills and work out where my head was at.

But I was faced with my first limitation before we even left the marina. I discovered that –  despite having done two sailing courses – nobody had actually taught me how to throw a sodding rope. Unfortunately trying to tie a boat up alongside a fuelling dock (in full view of  people on the waterfront having coffee in the sun) is not the best time to realize this! Luckily, after a few abortive attempts and a lot of ineffectual arm flailing, a kindly chap managed to catch the end of the rope and help pull us in.

This humiliation necessitated some remedial rope- throwing lessons once we got to the Sounds, and  I was pleasantly surprised to find that it wasn’t actually that difficult once I knew the technique (it’s all in the way you coil the rope before you throw it.) Being slightly ambidextrous also made things a bit tricky – but that’s the subject of an entirely different blog!

The Sounds were gorgeous – we chilled out in our favourite spot in Erie Bay where I did a lot of reading, writing, snorkeling (and maybe a teensy bit of wine drinking…) and then headed to one of Paddy’s favourite haunts, Flipper Bay – near Picton.

 

Chilling out at Erie Bay
Flipper Bay bound

On the way to Flipper Bay we did a bit of sailing and I got to practise my boathandling. Unfortunately –  because of  either crap weather or a depressing lack of wind (yes I am aware of the irony of the latter, living in Wellington) – most of the travelling I have done on Wildflower has been under motor. So I have actually had more experience on the little boats I learned in at the Port Nick Yacht Club than I have on the boat I spend half my time living on.

This meant I over-steered, under-steered and sailed us round in circles – which would have been fine if there weren’t so many other boats about! At that point I was getting so flustered that I would go into a blind panic every time another boat approached, despite the fact that I knew all the give way rules and exactly what I should do.

This was around the time that wretched little beast Self Doubt reared its ugly head. “How the hell am I supposed to take this thing around the Pacific when I can’t even get it to go in a straight line?!” The funny thing (and a credit to Paddy’s patience) was that the more I breathed through the frustration and just did it, the easier it became and the more I watched the other boats in the water and worked out where they were going, the less frightened of them I was. By the time we were heading home even the ferries weren’t phasing me.

Flipper Bay is a lovely spot. It’s sheltered, the water is relatively warm and it is surrounded by regenerated native bush. This means you wake up in the morning to a gorgeous chorus of native birds. There are also quite a few jellyfish (not the stingy kind!) about and they are fascinating to watch propelling themselves through the water.

Neighbours at Flipper Bay
Native bush at Flipper Bay
Paddy looking for mussels on the beach
What became of said mussels

Flipper Bay also has tame ducks. These crafty little devils have worked out that if they tap on the side of visiting boats in the mornings for long enough someone will eventually come out and feed them. Paddy once witnessed a mother duck teaching her babies exactly how to do this. We ran into a mother and brood while we were there but I don’t think she was the sharpest tool in the shed because while we were standing on the beach throwing out food for them she decided to swim the troops over to the boat that we were no longer aboard and tap in vain instead.

Mama duck and brood
But you're going the wrong way!
Mama duck's failed attempt to tap food out of Wildflower

We left Flipper Bay for Wellington when we had what looked like a good weather window and we had a gorgeous sail for a good part of the trip. We had a 25 knot northerly pushing us exactly where we wanted to go.

Waiting at the entrance of Tory Channel

Then we reached the south coast of Wellington – and things got a little exciting.

We probably should have reefed the sails in sooner, but we were having such a great trip. Unfortunately this meant we had quite a bit of sail up when we got walloped by the 45knot winds (gusting 50k Paddy says). When the boat started tipping so far on its side I thought we’d be able to converse with passing fish Paddy suggested we should perhaps pull in the sail. I agreed (in a very small voice while clinging to the safety rail with every muscle in my arms.)

A note for the worriers: The boat cannot tip over. It is physically impossible. Because of all the weight in the keel it will only lean so far sideways before righting itself again. Paddy has actually experimented with Wildflower to see how far she will lean (NOT with me aboard I might add!) Secondly, we are attached to the boat at all times by safety harnesses that we can move up and down the boat with.

I handled it fine for the most part (with a few terrified noises and the odd expletive) but there were a couple of gusts that had me praying under my breath. At one point we had a postage stamp sized scrap of sail up but were doing 9 knots (which is apparently faster than the boat is actually supposed to be capable of going) which I think was pretty impressive! In the end though it was nothing the boat couldn’t handle, and that’s what helped me through it. When I saw Paddy calmly steering the boat in the direction we needed to go it really helped.

It was actually really good for me to see that the boat can cope with those conditions easily. The only casualties were the wind indicator at the top of the mast (Paddy says we needed a new one anyway…) and a few books that came out of the bookshelf. Wildflower and skipper did brilliantly and it gave me even more confidence in both.

Besides, apparently it would be very unusual to come across conditions like that in the Pacific (touch wood). They do say if you can learn to sail in Wellington you can sail anywhere!

The northerly stuck around so we had a bit of a sloppy trudge into the harbour using the motor, but at that stage I was so pleased that we weren’t diagonal anymore that it didn’t faze me at all.

So in short (with a few hiccups along the way) this trip has given me more confidence in the boat, the captain and myself. I intend to get out on the water as much as I can before we go –  and to keep learning.

Captain Paddy got us home safe and sound