Bon voyage Mirabilis!

The last few weeks have felt like stepping into a time warp, as we watch our neighbours scramble to get ready to head across the Pacific.

I recognise and empathise with all of it – the race against the clock to get the boat ready to go before the weather decides to play silly buggers, the boat maintenance by tourchlight, the million little things that need to be tweaked , tied down and ticked off before you can hit the waves. Then you have to wrap up your life, wind up your job, pack away all your worldly possessions – you find yourself so busy your friends and family begin to forget what you look like.

I watch our neighbours get ready and part of me sympathises with them. But the other part of me is jealous as hell.

Mike and Danica Stent are about to embark on one of the biggest, maddest adventures of their lives. They will get to go places that tourists don’t often go and see things that most people never get to see. They will learn a whole heap about themselves, meet a bunch of amazing people and learn how to live life in whole new way.

Paddy and I first met our neighbours when Dani and I wound up on the same Boatmasters course. When we got to the whole ‘class introduction/why are you here?’ bit we were astonished to discover that not only were we both living at Chaffers Marina but we were on the same pier and practically right next door to each other. Paddy and I were planning to do the Pacific trip and Mike and Dani were getting their boat ready to do the same thing the following year.

It also turned out that Mike shared Paddy’s engineering geek traits so the two of them got on like a house on fire. It got to the point where I was a little concerned Dani would ban him from coming over – because every time he did it ended with “well Paddy’s got this and I think we should…”

This time last year it was Mike and Dani standing on the pier, waving us off – and this year we will happily return the favour.

Mike and Dani see us off

It has also been great fun watching the nameless boat next to us grow handrails and new sails and morph into the lovely Mirabilis. A Mirabilis is a type of nudibranch – basically a really tiny, really pretty sea slug (Dani is a seasoned scuba diver and her work involves hanging out with all manner of interesting sea-critters). Mirabilis has only recently had her name unveiled, and I think it is pretty stylish!

Before the big reveal
Ta-da! Isn't she lovely?
An actual Mirabilis

 

I’m not going to say when they are planning to leave, because I don’t want to jinx anything – but lets just say it’s soon! I’m sure they will be great. Dani has had the chance to get out on the boat a bit more than I did before we left so she’ll have a much better idea about what all the bangs and creaks and groans mean.

Mike was our crew when we brought Wildflower back home from Noumea and he was great – he even did the cooking when I was too crook to manage it and he witnessed me having a bit of a meltdown reefing a sail in some bouncy conditions heading in to NZ and didn’t run away screaming, which I think bodes well.

But if I can offer any advice at all, here are a couple of things:

1) If you see the Port light of a massive ship coming for you when you are heading towards Auckland – it is probably the Skytower

2) If you see the Port light of a massive ship coming towards you late in the evening – it could very well be the moon rising

3) Venus is a b*tch – no matter how many times you see her and you know it’s her, there will still be a part of your brain that reckons she’s a boat

4) Reheatable passage meals are awesome. The last thing anyone feels like doing is cooking if the boat is bouncing about a bit and sometimes the simplest task seem to take hours while you are down in the galley. Being able to throw stuff in a pot and just stir it till it reheats can be the best thing in the universe!

5) Try to get some sleep. It’s really easy to stay awake all day, particularly if it is nice and sunny and you are really enjoying yourself, but if you don’t have at least a bit of sleep before you go on nightwatch you can end up jumping at shadows all night

So guys, enjoy. You will have an amazing adventure. There will be times when it’s not easy, there will be times when you fantasise about pushing each other overboard – but those will pass. There will also be times when you have to pinch yourself to believe you really are where you are – and you will create memories that will last a lifetime.

We will miss you, and we will expect updates on your progress – no excuses!

Happy Sailing!

Paddy and Anna 🙂

 

Bon voyage Mirabilis!

The last few weeks have felt like stepping into a time warp, as we watch our neighbours scramble to get ready to head across the Pacific.

I recognise and empathise with all of it – the race against the clock to get the boat ready to go before the weather decides to play silly buggers, the boat maintenance by tourchlight, the million little things that need to be tweaked , tied down and ticked off before you can hit the waves. Then you have to wrap up your life, wind up your job, pack away all your worldly possessions – you find yourself so busy your friends and family begin to forget what you look like.

I watch our neighbours get ready and part of me sympathises with them. But the other part of me is jealous as hell.

Mike and Danica Stent are about to embark on one of the biggest, maddest adventures of their lives. They will get to go places that tourists don’t often go and see things that most people never get to see. They will learn a whole heap about themselves, meet a bunch of amazing people and learn how to live life in whole new way.

Paddy and I first met our neighbours when Dani and I wound up on the same Boatmasters course. When we got to the whole ‘class introduction/why are you here?’ bit we were astonished to discover that not only were we both living at Chaffers Marina but we were on the same pier and practically right next door to each other. Paddy and I were planning to do the Pacific trip and Mike and Dani were getting their boat ready to do the same thing the following year.

It also turned out that Mike shared Paddy’s engineering geek traits so the two of them got on like a house on fire. It got to the point where I was a little concerned Dani would ban him from coming over – because every time he did it ended with “well Paddy’s got this and I think we should…”

This time last year it was Mike and Dani standing on the pier, waving us off – and this year we will happily return the favour.

Mike and Dani see us off

It has also been great fun watching the nameless boat next to us grow handrails and new sails and morph into the lovely Mirabilis. A Mirabilis is a type of nudibranch – basically a really tiny, really pretty sea slug (Dani is a seasoned scuba diver and her work involves hanging out with all manner of interesting sea-critters). Mirabilis has only recently had her name unveiled, and I think it is pretty stylish!

Before the big reveal
Ta-da! Isn't she lovely?
An actual Mirabilis

 

I’m not going to say when they are planning to leave, because I don’t want to jinx anything – but lets just say it’s soon! I’m sure they will be great. Dani has had the chance to get out on the boat a bit more than I did before we left so she’ll have a much better idea about what all the bangs and creaks and groans mean.

Mike was our crew when we brought Wildflower back home from Noumea and he was great – he even did the cooking when I was too crook to manage it and he witnessed me having a bit of a meltdown reefing a sail in some bouncy conditions heading in to NZ and didn’t run away screaming, which I think bodes well.

But if I can offer any advice at all, here are a couple of things:

1) If you see the Port light of a massive ship coming for you when you are heading towards Auckland – it is probably the Skytower

2) If you see the Port light of a massive ship coming towards you late in the evening – it could very well be the moon rising

3) Venus is a b*tch – no matter how many times you see her and you know it’s her, there will still be a part of your brain that reckons she’s a boat

4) Reheatable passage meals are awesome. The last thing anyone feels like doing is cooking if the boat is bouncing about a bit and sometimes the simplest task seem to take hours while you are down in the galley. Being able to throw stuff in a pot and just stir it till it reheats can be the best thing in the universe!

5) Try to get some sleep. It’s really easy to stay awake all day, particularly if it is nice and sunny and you are really enjoying yourself, but if you don’t have at least a bit of sleep before you go on nightwatch you can end up jumping at shadows all night

So guys, enjoy. You will have an amazing adventure. There will be times when it’s not easy, there will be times when you fantasise about pushing each other overboard – but those will pass. There will also be times when you have to pinch yourself to believe you really are where you are – and you will create memories that will last a lifetime.

We will miss you, and we will expect updates on your progress – no excuses!

Happy Sailing!

Paddy and Anna 🙂

 

Happy Birthday ZL3JDK

There were times when we were bouncing around in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, miles away from anywhere, when the most calming sound in the world was my Dad’s voice.

Before we left New Zealand, Paddy donated his old radio to Dad so he could keep in touch with us (it of course had nothing to do with the fact that it gave Paddy the perfect excuse to buy a flash new radio…) – and Radio Clarkville was born.

ZL3JDK working the mic on Radio Clarkville

At one point Dad and I were both studying – me for my Boatmasters certificate and Dad for his amateur radio license,  and we both managed to pass. Dad did a bit of radio work while he was in the airforce though, so it wasn’t really a surprise that he did well on the test, but it’s pretty awesome that he went ‘back to school’ and did that for us.

ZL4HP tries out Radio Wildflower's flash new equipment

So Dad turns 70 today and I’ve decided to mark this milestone by sharing that fact with the internet (I know you still love me Dad – you have to!)

I’d also like to use this opportunity to say thank you Dad, and let you know how much it meant to hear you in the middle of nowhere (even when I was too crook to come below deck and talk to you!) It even helped just knowing (when we were too far for conversation) that you guys were listening to our position reports. It was great to know that, even when there was nothing in sight but sea and sky, that my family knew exactly where I was.

Exactly where we were - Dad gets his Navigator-geek on via AIS and Google Earth

Mum played no small part in this either – enabling the creation of Radio Clarkville by letting Dad stick a dirty great pole up in the middle of her garden and trail a bunch of wires from the trees to the sleepout. It’s not exactly something you can hide with some well-placed shrubbery!

Radio Clarkville construction - breaking out the concrete mixer
Going up...
Still going up...
It's not that noticeable Mum, honest!
Multi-purpose - the pole does its patriotic duty during the rugby world cup
The 'before' shot - See you in eight months Mum and Dad!

Dad also played a vital role in sourcing all manner of bits and bobs for us while we were away. When you are in the islands the simplest things can be really difficult to get hold of – and the more complicated ones practically impossible.

And even though we were pretty much sailing in a floating toolshed, there were often times that we needed things even Paddy hadn’t foreseen.

So Paddy set Dad up with a bank account and every now and again he’d receive a shopping list from us asking for everything from batteries to ceiling fans.

Dad managed to arrange getting all manner of things with buttons, wires and flashing lights to us in all sorts of out-of-the-way places and knowing we had that back up there was really great.

When we got back to New Zealand our plan was to take the boat to a little place called Houhora – up North where Dad grew up.

When my sister and I were kids we spent a lot of our school holidays down South with our rellies in Dunedin. Now I’m not bagging Dunners, it’s an awesome little town – but it’s not exactly famous for its heatwaves…

In contrast, Houhora was our tropical holiday spot – and I have some amazing memories of visiting Grandpop, white sand beaches, critters in rockpools and attempting to catch fish. My tastebuds also have amazing memories involving Grandpop’s amazing home-smoked fish, eating oysters straight from the rocks and devouring far too many watermelons. I hadn’t been there for years and I was really looking forward to taking the boat over there.

Dad got in on the act too, sending us the GPS coordinates to all the good fishing spots and where the rock oysters were.

Unfortunately, the weather had other ideas. It blew from the North, it blew from the South, but never the same direction for more than two days. At one point it looked like we would be able to get there, but then we would be stuck for too long to be able to get home for Christmas.

I was gutted – I was really looking forward to going (and may have thrown a teeny, tiny tanty…)

Paddy, bless him, said that if it was so important to me we’d get a rental car and go.  So we did, and it was awesome.

We found Grandpop’s old house and walked down to the harbour from there, and it was exactly as I remembered it. It was actually a little bit emotional.

Some things had changed though. The corner dairy had become a huge Four Square and the gift shop that sold tacky little souvenirs had been replaced by a liquor store.

There was also a gorgeous sign on the fish and chip shop saying ‘sorry, but we will no longer batter fish you bring yourself’ – sign of the times I guess!

Houhora Harbour
Me outside Grandpop's old house
The view at the end of the street - Paddy overlooking Houhora Harbour
Rock on - where my sister and I used to play when we were kids
Wot are YOU lookin at? - Paddy staunches out a Houhora crab
Crabby - Houhora crab is unimpressed
Locals fishing
No fish guts in the backpackers!

So happy birthday Dad. I hope you have a great day, and thank you for being with us while we were away – in more ways than one!

Lots of love,

Anna and Paddy xxxoooxxx

Reality and punk cabaret

The boaties among you will be wondering what on earth punk cabaret has to do with sailing, and those of you reading this because I posted it up on a punk cabaret forum will be wondering the exact opposite – but bear with me, the twain shall meet, honest!

So after spending the best part of last year sailing around the South Pacific, reality has come crashing in with a loud and rather inconsiderate thud. I am back home, back at work and back to the world as I once knew it.

It’s been great – it’s been wonderful to see the family and friends I have missed so much, to catch up with my workmates and to see my cat again, but it hasn’t been easy.

Once the novelty of not having to do laundry in a bucket or ration your showers wore off, I was faced with a stark reality – the world was the same, I was not. I’m a lot better now but when I first got back I was a complete insomniac. I’d gone from being out in the middle of nowhere with sporadic communication (other than radio and the odd burst of internet or celphone reception if you were lucky) to constant connectivity – celphones, blackberries, emails that can reach you wherever you are, television, radio, advertisements, planes, trains and automobiles. And when I went to bed I just didn’t know how to switch off anymore. I would lie there staring at the ceiling with stupid radio jingles, work emails, TV cop shows and what was trending on Twitter that day whirling around in my head. It was clearly a case of over-stimulation, I just didn’t know how to turn my brain off.

The other thing that is different about cruising is the way that you look at the world. The things that are important when you are sailing are much different from the things that are important in the ‘real world”. When you are sailing the decisions you make are simpler but the ramifications much bigger. When you are sailing the decisions often boil down to where and when you are going and how you are going to get there. They are simple decisions but ones that potentially, if you screw them up, can kill you or somebody else on the water. You don’t really have time for the nuances, it’s ‘pull this rope right bloody now before we lose a sail”, obey the collision avoidance rules or you could smash into somebody else’s boat, plan and look where you’re going or you could run smack into a reef – there isn’t really much time for interpretation. Interpersonal politics, other people’s agendas and whether or not you might have offended someone kind of takes a back seat.

For some of the people we met on the islands it was even more black and white – grow, catch and find food or you starve, look out for your family and your village or you won’t have a world. If you have books to read or pens to write with, you treasure them. It’s hard to go from that mindset to “he said this, she did that” and öh my god I missed my bus and I have to wait another 15 minutes for the next one!” A lot of the crap that I used to give myself an ulcer stressing over just doesn’t seem so important anymore.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying the details aren’t important. I know that the minutiae behind the decisions that are made can have massive “consequences. I know that the political arguments and intrigues are deeply important (nowhere is that more apparent than in places like mainland Fiji which is so politically screwed up it’s beyond words) – I just need to get my brain working back on that level again. I can do it if I concentrate, but it’s not natural like it used to be.

So where does the punk cabaret come in? Well I decided I needed something to bridge the gap, something creative (other than writing), that no-one was paying me to do, and something that wouldn’t be the end of the world if I screwed up.

So when I heard that ticket sales for punk cabaret duo The Dresden Dolls weren’t going so well in New Zealand and they were looking for street teams to poster and get the word out, I jumped at the opportunity.

Listening to the Dolls on my i-Pod helped heaps during my first few night-watches at sea. They are so punchy and anarchic and joyful that it’s almost impossible to be scared when  you are listening to them.

This song was a particular favourite:

The Dresden Dolls – Sing

Those of you who are masochistic enough to have been with me from the beginning may remember this blog I wrote before we left:

And I never lose my wallet

The Amanda Palmer who wrote that particular song is one half of the Dresden Dolls, so I figured it was worth a repost

They are not everyone’s cup of tea, and definitely not Paddy’s (he is more of a Tom Petty man – who I also think is awesome). But I figure if we can survive eight months at sea without killing each other then we can cope with having different tastes in music. Though when admitted he didn’t particularly like my one true obsession – David Bowie – it did nearly end in mutiny. It kind of put me in mind of a song by a lady called Eileen Quinn called “”If I killed the Captain” – A sample of the lyricS:

But if I killed the captain – really, who would know?

We’re two weeks out of port, we’ve got one more week to go,

And all that it would take,

Would be a timely little shove… whoops!”

For some reason this is a favourite song among many women cruisers! She’s a little bit country and not my normal style, but the lyrics are brilliant and I’ve developed rather a weakness!

So anyway, I’ve been spending my evenings going around Wellington putting up posters in strange places, playing with glitter pens and fraggles – and it has been damned therapeutic! It’s helping me find the other Anna again. She was always there, but she’d just taken a back seat for a bit. Punk Cabaret Therapy might not work for everyone, but it certainly has for me!

So the Wellington Gig is this Saturday at the Opera House and the details for that and the Christchurch and Auckland gigs are here:

Upcoming shows

If you want to come along I am pretty sure it will be awesome!

In a nutshell yeah, I’m a different person – I’ve done some things that scared the hell out of me, I’ve stuffed up some things but was lucky enough  to be able to learn from my mistakes. I found things about myself I didn’t really like very much and things that I am extremely proud of – and I am sure I will be able to find a way to channel that into my life back home.

In the meantime – thanks to punk cabaret, I am starting to appreciated the stimulation again – bring the noise!

What’s in a name?

Since its silly season and we are being inundated with news stories about baby names I figured it would be a pretty good time for me to finally write my boat name blog.

 When I was a junior reporter I got all the good jobs – and one of them was the dreaded Baby Name Story. Back then this hardy annual involved physically going through the birth section of the year’s papers and picking out the most popular and any patterns.

 The year I landed the job we had a run of precious stones. We had a Diamond, an Opal, an Emerald and several Rubies. This year I was quite surprised to see history repeating itself with Ruby being the most popular girls’ name. I was quite shocked. I’d figured it would be something from the Twilight saga.

I guess the inner cub-journo never dies because I found myself doing the same thing on our Pacific trip – collecting quirky boat names and picking up patterns.

Our boat – Wildflower (II because of a teensy lapse in registration) was named after a Tom Petty song about freedom on the ocean (or perhaps wacky bakky – who would know?) and there were certainly a number of other musically inspired names out there.

They ranged from the Pink Floyd inspired – Comfortably Numb and Crazy Diamond to the sublimely tacky Elvis on Tour – complete with picture of The King’s head. Others included Simply Red (painted red), Santana and – a personal favourite of mine – a big old steel lady called Iron Maiden.

Then there were the fantasy inspired names. The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe produced Narnia and Dawn Treader, Lord of the Rings Frodo and Star Wars Jedi.

Back home in Opua I was quite taken with the names of the racing boats at the local yacht club – Trouble Bubble, Frivolous Fish and – my favourite – Hogwarts Express!

Others that tickled my fancy were Saline Solution, Bamboozle, Secret Agent Man, New Kitchen and the Magic Roundabout. We also came across one called Viagra, which prompted all sorts of theories on how it earned its name!

We also heard tale of a boat called Jolly Rogering which caused much hilarity when called over the radio.

Bad Kitty was one of my favourite names for a catamaran, closely followed by Catatonic.

Colour and name also went together with some boats with Simply Red joined by, Citrus Tart – yellow and our friends Fergus and Dianne’s boat Only Blue, which was dark blue until they discovered the sunlight on the paint made it really hot.

There were also lovely puns like Sea-esta, several Infinities and numerous variations of Charisma.

The flip side of the annual baby name story is the list of names people were not allowed to call their babies. These have included such gems as Violence, No. 7 Bus Shelter and the poor girl who had to go to court to have her name changed from Talula Does the Hula from Hawaii.

You are also not allowed to give your child a royal title or any other that they have not actually earned and the same goes for boats. You are still not allowed to name a boat after a member of the royal family, because back in the day most royals had boats names after themselves. I am unsure whether there are any other rules about what you can and can’t name a boat, but would be interested to find out!

Paddy says if he ever got another boat (don’t listen Wildflower!) he would name it Never Again II, so here is my question to you. If you had a boat, what would you name it? I think boat names say a lot about people.

I would also love to hear any interesting boat names that other boaties have come across –  just to add to my collection 🙂

 

Christmas at Sea

As you can probably tell by the title of this blog, we didn’t manage to make it home for Christmas day.  The original title was ‘Weather Forecasters are Lying Bastards Part 3’ – but after the lovely Christmas day we had on the water I decided that was far too negative.

When we were finally able to leave Auckland it looked as though our biggest problem would be not enough wind – and for the first couple of days that was pretty much true to form. When the wind did blow from the South (the direction we were trying to travel in) there was so little of it that it was inconsequential – which was why the 30 knot Southerlies we got in the middle of the Bay of Plenty came as such a rude shock.

We’ve been in stronger winds and much more uncomfortable conditions in Wildflower before and coped fine, but I think that must have been the last straw for me, because I kinda lost it. I was still able to do everything I needed to, including clambering up on deck in the howling wind (with a harness on Mummy!) to reef the mainsail and frantically pulling on ropes while the poor boat’s sails crashed and banged, but once all that was done I am ashamed to admit that I hunkered down on the floor of the cockpit and bawled like an angry kitten. I had had enough, I wanted off the boat, I wanted out of these shitty conditions and most of all – I just wanted to get home.  It felt like we had been trying to get down south forever. We had already planned to have a belated Christmas with my family in Christchurch, but I was really missing them and was just a teensy bit over it all.

Paddy handled it like a champ. He held my hand and let me rant and rave, which was exactly what I needed. In the end we tacked out to sea for most of the night to keep us clear of the land and tacked back in again in the morning so we could round East Cape. It meant we lost about a day going out of our way but by the time we got round East Cape (which has a reputation for being a little windy) conditions had settled down and it was pretty uneventful.

Unfortunately for Paddy my next attack of Neurotic Crew Syndrome came the following day when we finally got the chance to check our Winlink radio email. Paddy came up to the cockpit, gave me a hug and said “there’s been a couple more quakes in Christchurch, but everybody’s okay.” Dad had emailed us to let us know because he had assumed we would have heard something on the news and been worried, which was absolutely the right thing to do. Unfortunately we hadn’t had any traditional radio access for a while so I didn’t really know the extent of what had happened – though I had figured if Dad was able to email then things must have been alright. I replied straight away and then checked our email before I went on my first night watch. We hadn’t had a response (though it turned out Mum, Dad and little sis had all taken turns writing in an email but for some reason it hadn’t gone through then). This meant I had spent a large chunk of my first watch glaring at my celphone and waiting for some sort of reception and when I got it – at 1am – I immediately woke my poor parents up to make them tell me they were okay. After hearing their voices everything was so much better and when the email came through in the morning it really made me smile.

So when Christmas day dawned, I was in a much better headspace. It helped that it was a lovely, calm, sunny day. Sure, we had to burn some diesel because there wasn’t much wind, but at that point I was okay with that!

Neptune started giving us our Christmas presents at first light, when the fishing rod started going nuts. We caught three decent sized tuna in quick succession before I made Paddy put the fishing rod away (we hadn’t managed to get anything done that morning because we were constantly running to the fishing rod, and there’s no point in being greedy!) We had a couple of albatross fly around us for a bit after that and, no sooner had I started thinking ‘the only thing that would make this more perfect would be dolphins’, they started to turn up.

First it was just a little guy on his own who jumped out of the water a couple of times and then disappeared but he must have got some of his mates because the next thing we knew we had a couple of pods of them hanging out with us for the rest of the day. It was really lovely.

Paddy and I and the goodluck trolls pulled Christmas crackers, wore silly hats, told awful jokes and ate scorched almonds – so all in all it was a pretty awesome day.

The rest of the trip was pretty uneventful and we even got a bit of good sailing in and were able to give poor old Big Red the engine a bit of a rest. We got a classic Wellington welcome home this morning though, with a couple of knots of tide against us going up Cook Strait. It was reasonably comfortable though, just made the going a little slower. The wind pretty much dropped off completely until we hit the South coast of Wellington, which decided to remind us what city we were heading towards by cranking things up from about 2.5 to 35 knots in rather quick succession. There is a bit of a wind funnel effect there with the land but, because there is such little sea room between the land and you, there is very little swell. So you have a lot of wind but the boat isn’t bashing around. It is a little surreal.

Once we got into Wellington Harbour though everything had settled down and we were able to enjoy watching home appear over the horizon (in between the ferries and mad buggers kite surfing). Once we had managed to get the boat docked at Chaffers Marina we jumped off and hugged each other. We’d made it! Around the South Pacific and back all in one piece and without killing each other. It has been an incredible experience and one I will not forget in a hurry.

I also – despite the way I felt in the Bay of Plenty – definitely want to do it again. There is a line in an Irene Quinn song about a rotten sail in wretched weather that says ” it’s a good thing sailors have got short memories” and I think that’s pretty much it. The rubbish stuff feels like it is going on forever while it is happening, but it is only a tiny part of it. A chap we met in Opua before we left summed it up pretty well too, while climbing soaked out of a dinghy in rough weather, “sailing – the good stuff outweighs the bad stuff” he said, before shaking himself dry and heading towards the yacht club. And, having now experienced it, I couldn’t agree more!

We are headed to Christchurch (on a plane!!!) tomorrow to spend Christmas with the whanau and will be back in Welly early Jan when I will be forced to get used to being back in the real world again by starting back at work. I am actually really looking forward to catching up with my friends and workmates, so it should all be good.

I still have a couple of retrospective blogs to write when I get the chance – so don’t think this is the last you will be hearing from us! I am also working on converting this blog into a book (with lots of extras of course!) so I will keep you posted. If you love me, you will buy it 😉 xxx

In Limbo (and more dolphins!)

 “It’ll be great, we’ll get three summers in a row!” –  This was one of Paddy’s selling points when trying to lure me into running away to sea

After several days of listening to rain pounding on the roof and wind shrieking in the shrouds though – I have been given cause to doubt the wisdom of that particular statement. It seems we have been waiting on the weather in some form or another since we have been back in New Zealand.

It’s a strange kind of limbo – we’re home but we’re not really home. We still have quite a bit of sailing to do before we get back to Wellington.

The plan was to sail around the Bay of Islands for a bit before heading to the Hauraki Gulf where our friends Fergus and Diane would show us around their cruising ground. The one flaw in the plan however was the sodding weather.

We had some lovely days up North (in between the grungy ones) and we did manage to get out and about in the Bay of Islands for a bit – but our plans to head further South have pretty much been thwarted at every turn.

It got to the point that – should we have any chance of getting home for Christmas – we simply had to go as soon as we safely could. The day we left the Bay of Islands was grey and pouring with rain. The conditions weren’t dangerous, the wind wasn’t even blowing that hard – it was just cold and wet. (I did get the chance to wear the funky orange hat I picked up at the boatie swapmeet in Opua though, and it was brilliant!) It took us longer than expected to get out of the Bay of Islands because we did had the wind and swell against us a bit – but nothing compared to what we’ve had on previous trips.

For some reason though, I started getting jittery – which is strange because it was the first time I had felt that way sailing for ages. I think part of it was the fact that, other than puttering around the bay, we haven’t really been out for quite a while. The other part probably had something to do with the weather. Even when the conditions are fine, if it’s cold and grey everything just seems scarier.

So I tried to imagine that the sea and sky were a beautiful Pacific blue instead of grungy New Zealand grey – that helped a little. Then I started trying to think of things that made me happy and I hit upon the dolphins that came to play with us at Robertson Island. Just as I’d finished talking about them with Paddy, I saw a splash out of the corner of my eye and, sure enough, it was a dolphin – I couldn’t believe it! There was a wee pod of them – they were smaller than the last ones we saw (maybe bottlenose?) – and they played around in our bow wave, leaping over the top of each other, diving under the boat and popping up out the other side. There was one that particularly liked leaping out of the bigger waves and slapping them with its tail when it came down – they were just having a good old play. Of course that completely cheered me up – it’s hard to feel bad when you are surrounded by creatures that are having so much fun.

In the Hauraki Gulf they have a bylaw that states boats cannot be within so many metres of dolphins and that you should not disrupt their path. That’s kind of hard when they decide they want to play with you and start swimming around and under your boat (clever critters though – they know to stay away from the propeller). If we tried to stay out of their path we’d have been weaving all over the show, and they probably would have thought it was part of the game! I have a sneaking suspicion that the person who wrote the dolphin bylaw hadn’t actually spent much time on a boat around dolphins.

Once we were out of the Bay of Islands we decided to overnight in a little place called Whangaruru Harbour and leave first thing in the morning, that way we wouldn’t be trying to get to our original destination, Tutukaka, in the dark. The next day we headed for Great Barrier Island. We actually had a pretty good sail, with about 18 knots on the beam we managed to make about 70 miles in 12 hours. I felt much better about things too – I even managed to relax enough to have a wee snooze in the cockpit. I felt a bit silly about getting butterflies the day before, but I think I am just one of those people who have to keep doing things or they create all sorts of silly fears and blocks in their head. I guess it was just high time I got back on the horse.

The plan was to overnight in Great Barrier and then head for Auckland where we would wait out a forecast Southerly but, in keeping with the theme of our previous plans, the weather put paid to this too. The wind was forecast to get up pretty high for a day, which is why we headed for Great Barrier, but then it decided to stick around. We were lucky though because we were tucked up nice and sheltered while the rain and wind walloped the rest of the country. It is rather unusual to have the low pressure systems that are this aggressive at this time of year – but it just seems to be the theme of things at the moment. The spot we were in, Port Fitzroy, was lovely and I’m sure is even lovelier when Mother Nature isn’t throwing a tantrum.

I do admit I started to lose my sense of humour a little though (read had a minor meltdown). This feels like the longest, slowest limp home ever and it’s just frustrating to be so close to home but have it take so long to get there. I am used to a world where, if you need to be somewhere, you just jump on a plane and you are there in an hour. Technically we could do that from Auckland, but it wouldn’t solve any problems because we’d still have to get the boat back to Wellington. Leaving the boat in Auckland over Christmas isn’t really an option because its pretty much impossible to find a berth or a mooring at this time of year and those that are available will be hideously expensive. We could leave the boat at anchor, but that is dodgy in itself. If something happens – someone hits it, the weather packs up or the anchor drags and there isn’t anyone on board to do anything about it then the boat isn’t insured (not to mention we don’t want our baby getting hurt!)

The biggest issue for me is that I’m determined to be home at Mum and Dad’s in Christchurch for Christmas (we will be flying from Welly now, not sailing) and at this stage it looks like we will be cutting it pretty close. I got pretty upset about it initially but then Paddy got me to realise that getting upset at the weather wont change anything – the weather will do what the weather will do and I’ll just be upset. So we’ll wait for the Southerly to go through and then we’ll go from there. There is a big high lurking around the corner and if we can hook on to the back of that then we stand a reasonable chance of getting to Wellington on or around Christmas (though it’s hard to predict what the weather is going to do so many days in advance) – wish us luck!

 

 

Parking woes and playing with dolphins

So we’re still sitting in Opua. The weather has been rubbish so Paddy decided it would be a good time to get some rigging work done on the boat (it is much cheaper here than inWellington).

Unfortunately what we thought would be a one-day job hit a couple of snags and it looks like it won’t be finished until Monday. The tricky part of the whole performance is that we are not staying in the marina anymore – being so close to the yacht club bar and the chandleries (shops that sell boat stuff) was proving a little expensive, so we decided to go live on the pick outside the marina.

This was fine until we needed to get work done on the boat. The rigging company we were using had the use of a marina berth that belonged to one of the ferries though, so we were allowed to stay there while our rigging was being worked on. That too was fine – until the ferry returned and wanted its berth back. It left at 6am and returned at 11pm so we were okay to stay there during the day, but had to clear out by the evening. That also would have been fine, except that it has been blowing like a bastard for the past few days and anchoring and berthing the boat has been a little challenging to say the least!

Each morning we have had to up anchor and maneuver Wildflower into the berth. This can be tricky at the best of times but, with the wind howling and current ripping through the marina, squeezing 18 tonnes of steel into a space between two other boats can be pretty interesting!

It became even more interesting the other morning when our engine decided it was going to die at the most inopportune moment. We were heading into the marina, there were boats everywhere, the wind was blowing and I was standing at the bow of the boat ready to throw a line to friends of ours who have been helping us park over the past few days.

Paddy popped his head out the cockpit and very calmly said “we’ve lost the engine. I’m going to try to get us into that empty berth (luckily there was one nearby) but there’s a chance we might run into it, so make sure you don’t get hurt. I’m going to jump off (the boat) and you are going to have to throw the lines to me – but you’re going to have to be quick.”

The funny thing was, I didn’t panic. When we were out at sea sometimes I freaked myself out thinking of all the things that could go wrong, but when we were facing an impending crash landing I was reasonably calm. I figured there was nothing we could do to change the situation we were in so we had to do the best we could to get ourselves out of it. I guess taking the choice out of the matter kind of took away the fear.

Paddy managed to coast the boat into the empty berth and leap off the side, while I threw him the ropes. I’m afraid all the excitement may have affected my throwing technique a little (read I flailed ineffectually) but I got the ropes to him and that’s all that really matters! Paddy tied us up to the dock and someone from a boat nearby ran over to give us a hand. I noticed he adhered to the marina code of helping us out, checking that we were okay and buggering off before it got too embarrassing – well done that man!

I was really impressed with the way Paddy calmly assessed the situation, worked out what needed to be done and did it with the minimum of drama. Had I been on the helm I would have been more likely to wave my arms in the air like Kermit the Frog on a bad day and go hide under something.

The most likely culprit was an air bubble in our fuel (I’m sure there is a more technical explanation but that will do for now) caused by all the jostling round we were doing out at anchor. We are now making sure there is a lot more fuel in our tanks just in case – and so far haven’t had any more problems (touch wood!)

Once the day’s work on the boat has been done we then have to back out of the berth in a slightly nerve-wracking three-point turn (which Paddy executes like a pro) and head back out to the anchorage. Anchoring can also be quite fun when you are trying to do it in 25 knots of wind. There comes a point when you stop looking around thinking ‘that’s a nice boat’ and start thinking ‘that looks expensive!’

At one point we were trying to do this at the same time that the cruising club was running its weekly yacht race. I don’t know whether the racers recognized that we were trying to anchor, but it was certainly rather unnerving trying to steer the boat into the wind while race boats zipped right behind us.  You can honk your horn to signal if you are turning to port, starboard or reversing, but as far as I am aware there is no signal for ‘piss off we’re trying to anchor’ – please feel free to correct me if I am wrong though!  If there isn’t then there jolly well should be and I shall be campaigning vigorously for it to be included in future Boat masters training!

We did get to escape for a couple of days though, before the work on the boat started. We headed out to the Bay of Islands and anchored up at a little place called Robertson Island. It’s a nature reserve with lots of birdies and stuff and a snorkeling trail that I am sure will be a lot more appealing when the water is a little warmer than 10 squillion degrees below zero! We did see a couple of terribly hopeful looking girls lying on the beach in bikinis – we on the other hand were rugged up in jackets and jumpers.

The highlight of that trip came on the first afternoon we were there. I was cleaning up below deck when Paddy called me up to say there were dolphins in the bay. We watched them leaping around the bow of a large boat that was anchored there (which was strange in itself because dolphins tend to hang around moving boats and disappear when they get bored.) I suggested we take the dinghy over but Paddy reckoned that might spook them, so we watched from the boat for a while. Then I spotted a couple of kayakers heading out and was amazed at how close the dolphins got to them.

When somebody else turned up in a dinghy and it didn’t scare them off I started doing my best annoying little girl impression “Can we? Can we? Can we??!!!” Paddy eventually caved and we headed out towards the pod. It was the most amazing experience. The dolphins were huge (common dolphins we think) and had no problems with us being there. They swum under the dinghy and leapt out of the water right in front of us, doing flips and generally showing off. They were having a great time – and so were we! The funny thing about dolphins is that, no matter how many times you see them, you still get a buzz out of it. They are just stunning, sleek and shiny and joyful, and all the people out there with them were clapping their hands and letting out involuntary squeals of delight. I’ve seen dolphins from the boat a few times now, but that was the closest I had ever been to them. You could have reached out and touched them – if they had stayed still long enough!

Its funny – other than swimming with turtles and snorkeling with tropical fish – I didn’t actually have much luck when it came to spotting sea critters during our Pacific trip. We left Tonga before the whales turned up (though we did see some from a distance while we were traveling), we waited two days in a place called Manta-ray Bay for the mantas to turn up – only to have them arrive the day after we left, and don’t even get me started on dugongs – I swear they are a mythical creature!  It wasn’t until we got home that I got to get up close and personal with sea creatures! I know there is a whole debate about whether you should get up close to dolphins and whales, but these guys had no issues with us being there – if there was even the slightest sign that they were distressed we would have been out of there. We didn’t feed them and we didn’t go out on a trip to hunt them out – they came to visit us! So I figure that’s okay.

Below is a public link to a Facebook album with dolphin pics (I tried to upload them to WordPress but the wifi here didn’t like that). They were taken from the boat because our camera isn’t waterproof (that’s definitely on the list for the next trip!) so they aren’t as great as they would have been had we taken the camera in the dinghy – but you get the picture!

Floating trailer trash

Grotty yachties, crusty cruisers, floating trailer trash – boat people are known by many names.

They are also known for being a bit tight (everything about sailing is expensive), wearing the same clothes for several days running (wouldn’t you if you had to wash in a bucket?) and committing some serious fashion crimes (Crocs and socks anyone?)  – And after six months, I am proud to say I consider myself one of them.

 The cruisers I have met on this trip have been many and varied, but they all have one thing in common, they all know the value of looking out for fellow sailors.

 They know that it is a special type of nutter who goes to sea when they could arrive at the same destination by plane in a matter of hours, and that nutters like us need to stick together.

 Throughout our Pacific trip I have watched people share experience, spare parts, tools and expertise. I’ve seen people work together to fix each other’s engines, radios and refrigerators. I’ve seen people get in their dinghies and tow boats out of harm’s way when their engines have stopped working, and do the same for people who have run aground. Advice on dealing with fear, sleeplessness and seasickness – particularly from fellow women cruisers – was much appreciated by me, and I hate to admit that I may have even swapped a recipe or two.

 And that is just within the fleet – pretty much anyone out there on a boat will help another on theirs. Complete strangers will look out for each other – kind of like a floating neighbourhood watch. Just the other day I was told about a boat that ran into trouble heading in toTonga. They had lost their mainsail, their headsail and – just as they were nearing land – their engine. Basically they had no real way of controlling their boat. They got in touch with the Tongan authorities and requested a tow only to be told that, yes they would tow them in, but they would have to pay for the privilege. When they asked how much, they were told they would only find out after the deed was done. This was a young couple with a limited budget for cruising and it was obvious they were worried that they couldn’t afford it. In steps the floating neighbourhood watch – another boat, which had only just arrived inTonga, got on the radio and told them not to worry, they would come out and tow them in. The boat had just reached the end of a long passage, they were a few miles out, but they picked up the hook, turned around and helped the other boat in – you hear stories like that all the time.

 The same thing goes for people living in marinas. There is a kind of unspoken code if someone is having difficulty getting in or out of their berth. You help them, make sure they are okay and then bugger off and let them lick their wounds – because you just know that next time it is going to be you.

 Paddy and I officially joined the grotty yachtie ranks the other day when we joined a fellow sailor pawing through the rubbish at Opua marina. It was the day after a boatie garage sale of sorts that marked the end of the All Points Rally (a series of activities and seminars held for sailors and those new to NZ). We’d already picked up a couple of bargains (a pair of boat fans for $10 – they retail at $100 and Paddy just had to do a little tweaking to fix them – and a funky orange waterproof sailing hat, that I wish I’d had on the way back home!) I guess what didn’t sell ended up in the rubbish/recycling corner at the marina, because, when we went to drop off our rubbish, we spotted a fellow sailor furtively sifting through the rubbish, grabbing a cast-off floatation device to use as a dinghy cushion. We thought that was a great idea and grabbed one for ourselves. Then both he and Paddy fossicked through the rest, pulling out bits and pieces that could be of use on our respective boats. It may sound like penny pinching, but when it comes to sailing – those pennies really need to be squeezed. For most people sailing isn’t a discretionary activity, it’s a lifestyle. They have made the decision that, instead of putting money in the bank or into investments, they are going to pour it into a thirsty tub and float it about the place. That is why sailors get tonne of quotes from a tonne of different places before they get any work done on anything. We ourselves have discovered that we need quite a bit of work done on Wildflower’s sails for us to travel quickly and comfortably in certain conditions, and are waiting to find out how much that is likely to hurt. Paddy has also managed to save about $1000 on a second furler to help us travel better downwind by sourcing a second-hand, never used one from TradeMe, much to the chagrin of the local rigger. We will be using local tradespeople to install the thing though, which I think is a pretty good compromise.

 The All Points Rally was a little therapeutic for me too. A lot of the people on the rally stuck around for this and that meant I didn’t have to say goodbye to everyone all at once. By the end of our sojourn around the Pacific our little group of floating trailer trash began to feel like a family of sorts, so it has been hard to say goodbye. Particularly since, in the cruising world, goodbye is a kind of amorphous concept. Goodbye could mean you’ll see them in the next anchorage, but it could just as equally mean you will never see them again. The nature of cruising means that people scatter in different directions. You can spend months living in each other’s pockets and then wind up on opposite sides of the globe.

 Of course the internet makes the world a lot smaller. You may not see each other in person, but you can keep in touch electronically – and there is always the chance of running in to people when you least expect it. There have been several occasions on this trip where people have managed to catch up with people they met while cruising years ago, without even knowing they were in the area. Even here at Opua Paddy ran into a chap who was his neighbour at Chaffers Marina inWellingtonabout 10 years ago. A sailing phrase which sums it up pretty well is “I’ll see you out there.” There are only so many oceans in the world and only so many crazies in boats, so it stands to reason you are likely to bump into eachother again.

 So to everyone we have met on this trip, both in and out of the rally, thank you for making it so memorable – and we’ll see you out there!

PS – the weather forecast is rubbish for going up North at the moment so we are still lurking around Opua. We are hoping to be on the move by the weekend though, so we’ll keep you posted.

Dodgy neighbours, shipping containers and getting our land-legs back

A couple of days ago one of our ICA friends – a commander in the Royal Australian Navy who has already headed home – got in touch to let us know the Australian authorities might want speak with us.

Don’t worry Mum, we haven’t done anything dodgy, but it turns out our neighbours at Port Vila may have been very naughty indeed! It seems we were unwittingly parked up next to $80 million worth of cocaine the whole time we were tied up at the dock there. The boat next door to us – called Friday Freedom – was intercepted on it’s way to Queensland from Vanuatu with  300 kilograms of Peruvian dancing dust (Paddy’s term) hidden in it’s hull. It was the fifth largest cocaine bust in Australian history and is all over the news there.

It’s funny, we would never have known. They seemed like quite a nice young Spanish couple. Their English wasn’t that great, but they did manage to tell us that they had just bought the boat. It seemed to be their pride and joy and they were out every day scrubbing and washing it down. One of them even helped fish Paddy out of the water after his rigging mishap! They and a friend of theirs came and went but never caused any problems – the crying baby on the boat on the other side of us was much more irritating! Apparently they had also won a Best Dressed Pirates competition at a welcome BBQ at the port and played with all the kids there. I guess it goes to show that sort of thing isn’t easy to spot. They were allegedly part of a big international crime syndicate the Australian authorities had been keeping an eye on for a while, but I have a feeling they weren’t particularly high up the chain. Apparently the police will be trying to trace their movements so we may very well end up hearing from them.

For those interested here’s the link to a news story about them: http://www.abc.net.au/news/2011-11-14/300kg-drug-bust-in-queensland/3664164

The other news we are keeping an eye on is the wreck of the container ship Rena. For those of you not from NZ, this accident has been dubbed the worst maritime environmental disaster the country has seen. Basically a chartered container ship – ran aground on Astrolabe reef off Tauranga, spewing hundreds of tonnes oil all over the area and dropping shipping containers into the sea.

There are so many theories about how it happened, who should pay and how to deal with the cleanup, I could write a blog on that alone. The mess it has made of a wonderful diving spot, the huge amount of wildlife killed and the impact on those who make their living there is absolutely tragic –  and although they have managed to clean up most of the oil, weather is still hampering proceedings. What  yachties are keeping an eye on though are the 1200 shipping containers on the back of the thing. Most of them are still on the ship but a fair few have also fallen in to the water. There is an exclusion zone around Tauranga and a good chunk of the containers have been located, but there are still a few that haven’t been. Most of these won’t be a problem because they are vented and designed to sink, but any refrigerated containers (or reefers) are sealed and will float.

There is a regular maritime safety warning that goes out over the radio daily which I have to admit makes me smile a bit. It says “if you see a shipping container in the water in the Tauranga area please do not touch or attempt to intercept it. Just take down its GPS coordinates and any details you can.”  What do they think we are going to try to do? Lasso the thing! Paddy reckons it’s to stop people trying to salvage them themselves – but that would take some serious determination!

We are keeping an eye on things before we head back down south. At this stage it looks like we will still go down the east coast of New Zealand, but will try to do it as day sails. They are already hard at work removing containers now and there shouldn’t be too many floating by the time we leave.  In such a big ocean the risk should be pretty minimal as long as we keep our eyes peeled. If the ship breaks up before they get the rest of the containers off it will be a different story though. If hundreds of containers end up dumped in the sea, we’ll definitely look at heading round the west coast. Basically we’re just going to be pretty careful and keep an eye on what’s happening.

Drugs and shipping containers aside, we are starting to settle back into life in New Zealand. It’s a strange feeling being back home and for the first week or so I found myself feeling a little displaced, like the whole trip away was just some sort of strange dream. Before we left, six months seemed like forever. I had never had that much time when I wasn’t either working or studying and I was actually afraid I might get bored with all the downtime. On the contrary, it seemed like we were always doing something and those months disappeared in the blink of an eye.

At first it took a little while to get used to not living life on an angle. When we first arrived at Opua marina, I was in the process of making a coffee when Mike politely said “Anna, you are still holding on!”  When I queried this he informed me that I had not let go of the stove until I had one hand on the pantry shelf and didn’t let go of the pantry until I had reached the galley bench. And it really did take a while for my brain to register that I could move from one end of the boat to the other without having to hang on for grim death!

After the initial excitement of remaining upright, guilt free hot showers and being able to use the marina washing machines instead of a bucket, things did start to feel a little flat. People we had been cruising around with for half a year started disappearing in dribs and drabs and we didn’t really know what to do with ourselves. We were suddenly bombarded by newspapers, advertisements, election coverage and bank balances – all those things that remind you that the real world awaits. The world we only managed to get a glimpse of through dodgy internet connections is suddenly there in all its glory. It seems almost indecent to just be able to walk into a supermarket and have everything on your shopping list in stock, and to have several different varieties available instead of having to hunt for substitutes. Everything is the same as it was before we left – but we’re not.

On the other hand we are hearing from friends, we’re able to talk to our family on the phone and I am getting updates on my much missed moggy. We are making plans to catch up with people when we head to Auckland, Wellington and Christchurch for Christmas and I’m really looking forward to that. I’m even looking forward to heading back to work and seeing everybody there. And there are all the little things I have missed –meeting up with friends for coffee, seeing a movie in English (or at least with English subtitles), wasting time in a book store and gardening. So I am sure I will settle back in again fine.

It’s been quite good staying here in Opua for the past week too because there is a yachting ‘rally’ on (essentially a bunch of boating seminars and pot luck dinners) and a lot of the ICA cruisers have decided to stay for a bit to check it out, so we haven’t had to say goodbye to all our friends just yet.

On Sunday, weather permitting, we will be out of here for a bit though. We are heading up North to Houhora harbour where my Dad grew up and where we used to visit my Grandpop when we were kids. I haven’t been there since I was little, but I loved it then, so I’m really looking forward to it. Dad’s filled us in on all the good fishing spots too, so it should be good fun!

PS – I am slowly getting all my photos up on facebook and volcano videos on youtube. Once that’s all sorted I will put up a blog with public links to them so you can check them out