Tag: Opua

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 🙂

 

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

A love/hate relationship

After my first six months cruising I have discovered that sailing holds a unique place in my heart.

Because of the places it has taken me, the confidence it has given me and the amazing people we have met along the way, it has become
something that I love more than anything else.

On the flip side – when the weather and the swells aren’t co-operating – I hate the walls I am slamming into, I hate the cupboards that
disgorge their contents on me if I open them at the wrong time, I want to get off the bloody boat and I want to go home. Those moments feel like forever when you are in the middle of them but turn into great war-stories when you arrive safely on dry land.

I have heard passage making likened to giving birth in that nature makes you forget what it actually feels like so you keep on doing it.
Paddy reckons long ocean crossings are like going to the dentist. Few people actually enjoy it, but they do it because they have to – they just hope it isn’t too painful or expensive. Often it’s not much fun at the time, but at least we can smile afterwards!

Our passage from Noumea to New Zealand, up until the last couple of days, was actually pretty good. We managed to do it in exactly seven days and, when the weather and wind direction was on our side, we were doing between 7 to 8 knots – which is a bit of a speed record for us! We
got kicked about a bit in the last couple of days heading in to New Zealand (which I shall go into later), but overall it was a pretty good trip.

The day we left started ridiculously early, which was kind of my fault. The pattern for the previous couple of days was for a calm start
and then the wind to build up and get quite blustery as the day went on. Because of this we decided we were going to leave fuelling up until first thing in the morning on the day we left, before the wind got up. I set the alarm on my celphone so we didn’t sleep in but, because it had been flat for so long, I readjusted the time on it using the boat clock. When the alarm went off I was rather puzzled that it was still dark (usually it got light at about 5am) but I dutifully prodded Paddy until he woke up. It was then I discovered I had forgotten that Paddy had changed our clock to New Zealand time so we could keep up with our nightly ‘skeds’ with Russell Radio and that I had actually woken us up at 4am – not the most auspicious start!

After a bit of a catch up snooze we headed over to the diesel dock. Because it was so early in the morning there was nobody about to
catch our lines – a fact I was more than a little apprehensive about. Paddy managed to arrange things so that all I really had to do was run up to the bow of the boat, throw a line over a bollard and pull it back up on to the boat. Unfortunately I discovered that, while my throwing technique is much better, my aim is still rubbish. It took me three attempts but I managed to lasso the bollard before we ended up sailing past it – so all’s well that ends well I suppose!

Paddy then went to pick up our crew member Mike to do the Immigration dance. He had already had his share of fun with the Noumea Customs
department the day before and was hoping for an easier time of it. We’d deliberately arrived at the Customs office after the standard Noumean lunch break (11 till 1pm) only to discover that the chap we were looking would not be back until 3.30pm. Later that afternoon the customs official arrived at the same as Paddy, but failed to inform his staff who grew rather flustered explaining that they still couldn’t find him. Once that was sorted they were then faced with a serious technical difficulty. The customs officer had lost his stamp. He was actually really worried he wouldn’t
be able to check us out without it but managed at the last minute to find it under a large pile of paper on his desk. (It was a little less unnerving than checking out in Vanuatu though, where there was woman in a business suit whose sole job appeared to be pacing up and down the office casually swinging a machete!)

Any hope of an easy Immigration clearance was dashed however after about 30 people descended on one overworked immigration official. Most
people’s crew had all arrived on the same flight and all wanted to leave at about the same time. Things were a little rowdy in the waiting room until the nice man with a gun came and kicked them all out, only allowing two in at a time.

The final hurdle was the port captain, whose job was to take the documents from Customs and Immigration and give us an outward clearance. He however had decided to take his lunch break half an hour early and nobody knew when he would be getting back. Things got a little tense as most of the yachties needed to leave that day to catch the weather window for New Zealand and after a bit of pressure was applied a policeman was found, deputized as a port captain and outward clearance achieved.

The whole performance was a stark reminder that, although New Caledonia is a French protectorate, it’s still part of the Pacific!

Unfortunately for poor Mike this was pretty much all he got to see of Noumea before we piled him on the boat and packed him off to sea. To his credit he was very good humoured about it! He and his wife Danica plan to take their own boat across the Pacific next year (we met when Dani and I did our Boatmasters course together and discovered they lived aboard their boat just down the pier from us at Chaffers Marina) so it was all good experience for him.

We were fully expecting the first two days to be rubbish, because you can’t really avoid bashing in to the wind when you first leave New Caledonia for New Zealand, and the first day/night was true to form. We hadn’t even managed to get out of the lagoon surrounding Noumea before we were bashing into 20-30 knots pretty much coming from the direction we were wanting to go in.

I have to admit to being a little concerned that we were seeing that before we had even hit the open ocean, but it actually dropped off a bit once we got out there. We still had the wind on the nose, but it wasn’t too horrendous which helped. We were still quite well heeled over and it was a
little exciting, but it was vastly different from leaving New Zealand for Tonga. First of all I knew what to expect. I knew what all the noises meant, I knew which ropes were attached to which sails (most of the time!) and had heaps more confidence in the boat. I was a little bit apprehensive, but wasn’t scared out of my mind this time –a fact I am actually a little proud of!

The wind swung around to the east (a much better point of sail for us) much sooner than expected and by day two we were happily sailing
along between 6 and 7 knots. The swell died right down too and it was all pretty comfortable. I even managed to stay below deck long enough to do the dishes, which is unheard of for day two!

I was a bit queasy for the first few days (the drugs helped heaps though!) but while we were on the same tack I managed to avoid being
physically sick – at first. We all settled in to our night watches and I quite enjoyed listening to my audio books and looking at the stars. I had the 4am to 8am shift so I got to watch the sun rise too, which was always quite comforting in the mornings.

We all had the standard auditory hallucinations – Mike heard a radio and muffled conversations, I heard a baby crying and people calling my name. I also saw a UFO, which was definitely NOT a hallucination. Though Paddy claims its movements were consistent with a
satellite being de-orbited, which apparently was happening at the time, I in fact believe it was a type of Weird Dream Mothership. I say this because at the time I saw this light darting about in strange geometric patterns, Mike was dreaming of dog-fighting planes flying under the boat and popping out the other side while Paddy dreamed he was racing trucks while people shot rats at him
from a cannon. I rest my case.

As we got closer to New Zealand though, things got colder and greyer and lumpier. We had wind, we had rain, we had swells that
were all over the shop and heaps of water coming over the deck. There was water in the cockpit, water all over the cushions, water down the back of my wet weather gear (but no leaks in the boat!) and it wasn’t really that much fun. It wasn’t dangerous by any means, just bumpy and noisy and very hard to sleep. For Paddy and I, who had spent most of the last six months in places where the weather never dropped below 24 degrees, it was also a bit of a culture shock – wasn’t it supposed to be Summer in NZ?!

While the captain managed to stay on his feet, the crew took some pretty spectacular tumbles. Poor Mike lost his balance on a trip to the
toilet and, being a little taller than Paddy and I, managed to put his bum through one of our cupboards. They were just wooden slats and easily fixed, but I think the poor boy was a bit mortified! I myself managed to slip down the companionway and do a really impressive Tarzan-style swing from some ropes hanging off the stairs, managing to land on my feet without hurting myself. Unfortunately there was nobody there with a video camera because I reckon it would have made great Youtube footage! Some of my other tumbles were a little less graceful  – but we won’t go into that…

I did lose my sense of humour a couple of times during this part of the passage – particularly when sconned on the head by a full 2kg
container of rice, and lack of sleep meant there were moments where I was actually quite scared – though perfectly safe. I found in these cases I was better when I was concentrating on doing stuff and more comfortable when I was doing my night watches.

Our spirits lifted markedly once we were able to see land and our arrival was made even better by a welcome party of Hectors dolphins who
swum about the boat for about half an hour. It was one of the biggest pods I had seen and they stuck around for ages, playing in the bow waves and leaping out of the water. It was magic. Our escort home was completed by a single albatross who circled the boat for a while before going off on his business. It was good to be home.

We have settled into a berth at Opua marina and will be here for a week, tidying up stuff on the boat and generally recuperating. We then
plan to cruise the Bay of Islands for a bit before meeting up with our friends Fergus and Diane (our crew in Fiji) and cruising the Hauraki Gulf with them. I plan to keep blogging while we cruise New Zealand because we will heading to parts of the country that I haven’t really seen much of – and I am sure it will be just as fascinating as the islands!

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