The Pashouwers meet Tayrona

15. Mar. 2016
/
New Zealand
/
6 Comments

Author: Miranda

Location: Auckland and The Hauraki Gulf

When Pete proposed that we set out on an off-shore sailing expedition, I really didn’t know what to expect. I grew up on a farm in Wisconsin- pretty much as far from any ocean as one can get. My previous boating experience consisted of being pulled behind a motorboat in a tube as a child, which later evolved into beers and catching an occasional fish from a pontoon boat as an adult. I was not exactly primed with a wealth of sailing experience. The schema in my mind of what blue-water cruising actually looked like was akin to that grey, fuzzy screen that appears on your T.V. when the signal goes out. But, I took some sailing lessons, read an obscene amount from other sailing blogs, talked to other sailors we knew, and gradually the grey fuzz started to take on shapes and images. In those first few months in the Caribbean, I learned how to sail and gained confidence in my ability to man a vessel for long stretches, far from land.

But my poor parents. They were supportive and interested and excited for us (Mom and Dad were even reading Sailing magazine cover to cover- some free subscription that came with our ASA lessons). Even after we set sail I can’t imagine their grey, fuzzy screen clarified into anything too much different from the one I started with many months before. They put on a good face, but I’m sure in they were worried. Dad told me once, “I know you guys are smart and will be fine, but often it’s better if I just don’t think about what you must be up against out there on the sea.” I have a sneaking feeling there exists somewhere an extensive catalog of you-will-absolutely-terrify-your-parents karma earmarked just for Pete and I.

So getting to show my folks what really happens aboard Tayrona was huge for me. Huge. Showing them how far I’ve come and what they should really visualize when we are out sailing (no more George-Clooney-Perfect-Storm images) meant the world to me, and I know it set them at ease a bit. And of top of it all, we got to catch up, enjoy each other’s company, and have one hell of a good time together on the water.

We started the trip with a few days exploring Auckland. Another perk of having guests is that it forces you to get out and see some of those touristy (but thoroughly enjoyable) spots you’d been putting off for too long. We toured the Auckland Museum and went to the Auckland Zoo. I was bound and determined to see a kiwi bird while we are in New Zealand, and they were worth the hype. The cutest birds I’ve ever seen! Photos were strictly prohibited in their nocturnal enclosure, so you’ll have to take my word for it.

It was nice for everyone to get their bearings on the boat while it was still tied up to a dock, but soon everyone was itching to get out to sea and away from the hustle and bustle of the city. Just like me, my parents feel like truly “seeing” a place doesn’t mean just strolling through city streets and looking at buildings. It means seeing greenery, animals, and the small towns that make up the real backbone of a culture.

On our only cloudy day of the entire trip, we threw off the docklines and sailed under spinnaker to Waiheke island. Waiheke is choked-full of wineries and cheeky shops, but it sure is beautiful and the libations tasty, so we had to stop.

On our first night, we stayed in Oneroa bay where we were successful in finding a killer lunch spot at Wild on Waiheke winery, but unsuccessful finding some fish for dinner.

On day 4, we had another beautiful sail up to the northeast corner of Waiheke, anchoring in Hook’s Bay.

We were hoping to walk up to the WWII gun battery on the island from here, but couldn’t find the walking tracks from the beach. So, we fished instead. We excitedly watched schools of fish jump out of the water as we anchored the boat, so figured we’d be reeling them in in no time flat. But, no cigar. Even went chasing the little buggers in the dinghy. We didn’t catch anything, but the weather was great and the scenery stunning, so we were no worse for the wear.

Cooked up some very tasty burgers on the grill for dinner, which made us all completely forget about the poor showing we had on the sea.

The next morning, we moved over to Man O’War bay on the eastern side of the island, where we were assured we could find the hiking tracks up to the gun battery.

The views on the walk up were well worth a bit of sweating in the hot sun. Wineries, Lord-of-the-Rings-style boulders, and adorable sheep, all set on a background of crystal blue sea and green, rolling hills.

The gun emplacements were constructed during WWII to guard Auckland from an air raid. Luckily for Auckland-ites, the guns were never fired in battle.

On the 6th day of their vacation (have you been counting?), we all decided to venture over to the Coromandel Peninsula, which is a bit more secluded and a bit less touristy than Waiheke.

And we finally caught some fish! Getting just another 10 miles from civilization proved to be key in hooking up with some Kahawai, whose name means “brave water” in maori because of their tendency to jump and fight on the hook. Sure makes them fun to reel in and the fact that they are pretty scrumptious doesn’t hurt either!

After lunch, Mom, Pete and I donned our wetsuits and went out in search of scallops. Pete found the lion’s share, but the ladies contributed one or two along way.

Bacon wrapped scallops and fish packets on the grill for dinner. I attest it doesn’t get much better!

The major settlement on the peninsula is at Coromandel Town, which is located on a large and well-protected harbor. So, the following day we left the boat on anchor and rented a car to see the countryside and explore the opposite side of the peninsula.

Along the way, we found a few beautiful little hikes, located just off the side of the road. I love this about New Zealand. There’s gorgeous nature everywhere, and the Kiwis have done an outstanding job of laying easily-accessible and well-groomed trails to bring it to everyone who might be interested. We got to gaze at several massive Kauri trees, somehow left untouched by the Kauri timber industry of the 1800s and early 1900s.

Then it was time for the major attraction of the eastern Coromandel: Hot Water Beach! At low tide, you can dig a hole in the sand and natural hot springs will fill your little tub with glorious hot water perfect for soaking and relaxing.

Dad took a shot at driving on the wrong side of the road, as we snaked up the coast, stopping for pictures and for some great local grub at a popular pub along the way home.

After our escapades inland, we took to the costal islands north of Coromandel harbor the following day for more sunny skies, killer beaches, and penguin-watching.

The kahawai were loving our lures, as we bagged several along the sail north. Everyone got a turn to reel one in, but we let most of them go. No need to be greedy.

Spent the night anchored in this little cove, and we had the place to ourselves. Did a bit of rock-hopping and digging around for shells ashore before heading back to the boat to feast on fresh fish tacos!

While we were eating, we noticed some odd splashing off in the distance. Grabbed the binoculars and realized it was a pod of dolphins! Naturally, we dropped our tacos and jumped in the dinghy to get a better look. We were treated to a sunset show by a very playful and very large pod of dolphins. It was certainly a drop-your-taco-worthy experience!

We woke to flat water but beautiful sunny skies on day nine, so we made a quick hop to another secluded little spot- Elephant Cove.

The water here was some of the clearest we’ve seen in New Zealand, so we all suited up, sharing a hodge-podge of wetsuits to do some snorkeling.

Dad gets the prize for closest-encounter-with-sealife, as this little eagle ray swam just underneath him, maybe a foot or two from the surface.

Elephant Cove was one of my favorite anchorages in all of New Zealand, but it’s protection was only moderate, so we moved over to the mainland of the peninsula for the night.

The guidebook promised a walk along the beach would offer fossils and gemstones… we found cows instead. Which as a Wisconsinite, certainly aren’t as exotic as fossils and gemstones.

As it was our last full day on the sea, we unfortunately had to leave the Coromandel the following day, and head closer to Auckland. The seas were dead-pan flat, so we motored, but the flat water was great for spotting birds, penguins, and even shark fins on the surface of the water.

For my parents’ last night in New Zealand, we did was we always do best: drank beer, played cards, and chatted about life, sailing, and our adventures on the open ocean.

And then it was time to go back to Auckland. Luckily Mom and Dad had a late-night flight, so we had the day to get cleaned up, do some packing, and have one last meal together at the pub.

I feel like I snapped my fingers and their trip was over. How did it all go by so quickly? In the end, I know that I’m one lucky lady. I have parents who are the perfect blend of supportive mentors but also people that are just plain fun to be around. We get to talk real with each other, but we also get to laugh, live it up, and genuinely enjoy each other’s company. So, the real question- where’s our next vacation going to be?

Wellington Road Trip

03. Mar. 2016
/
New Zealand
/
No Comments

Author: Pete

Location: Wellington, New Zealand

After a couple weeks slowly bobbing out to the Bay of Plenty and back, Miranda and I were ready for a little zip in our giddy-up. We rented a ‘flash’ ride from the local Rent-a-Dent (that’s seriously what the place is called) and took to the open road to Wellington. Much to Miranda’s chagrin, I did weasel a little boat work into our fun trip. Dinghy required a little gluing that was beyond my capability, so we crammed the front third of her into the rear compartment of the SsangYong for the short drive to Terminator Boats.

With poor, overworked Dinghy in the shop, our ride was a good deal more spacious and streamlined, and we zoomed unobstructed south. It’s really novel to move more that five miles an hour, and even more novel to be speeding along on the wrong side of the road! We broke the drive into two pleasantly uneventful days. Just like navigation afloat, I worked collision avoidance and Miranda worked charts. We floated serenely by rolling hills, cow pastures, and volcanic massifs with nary a touch of sea sickness.

Wellington is not only the seat of the nation’s government, but also the coffee and cultural capital of New Zealand. Wellingtonians are pretty hip. I saw a guy who was so hip, he couldn’t see over his own pelvis! In their defense, it is a cool city. One can’t saunter more than a few paces without stumbling over a brew pub, free museum, coffee shop, or funicular. It’s like the Seattle of the Kiwis.

After wandering our way into town from the Airbnb, we hit up Wellington’s fabulous Te Papa museum. It seemed like a good way to get acquainted with the local ethos. Maori artifacts, larger-than-life war memoirs, and colossal natural history collections filled the better part of a day.

MuseumVerts

Our sailing friends Martin and Lexi from s/v Pao Hana were serendipitously in Wellington at the same time we were. We met up with them for an afternoon of partaking in the local cuisine, café, and ice cream. We blamed our sloth and gluttony on the rainy weather, but really it’s the city itself that encourages indulgent wanderings with friends. Lunched at a great Vietnamese place. Noodles in hot broth sounded good on the blustery day, and we jumped in line to get a bowl. You know the place is going to be good when there’s a pho ‘queue’ out the door.

We spent a few days enjoying the fineries of the city. We went to performances in black-box venues and grand theaters. We slept in a fluffy, motionless bed like normal folk. We ate, drank, and people watched. It was a marvelous, much needed city fix indeed.

FerrisWheelVerts

Our way back north was speedy smooth. As we drove we relished the ease of motion and the lackadaisical attitude we took towards passing squalls, temperature fluctuations, and the darkness after the setting sun. Twilight be damned! Zoom on! Got to get back to our five-knot life.

Tauranga and White Island, NZ

25. Feb. 2016
/
New Zealand
/
2 Comments

Author: Pete

Location: New Zealand

The girls and I boldly cowered from the gale for three days in Tauranga. For ye purists out there, gales are generally classified as having 30-40 knots of wind, where storms have roughly 50-60, almost a hurricane at 70+ knots. Since wind power increases exponentially with velocity, gales are rough, but storms are serious bad news. When people talk about storms, they generally mean gales. But I digress… After ripping in from Mayors Island we had a heck of a time tying up to the slip with uncooperative current and twenty stubborn knots of wind yanking on Tayrona. It might be said that this was the worst job we’ve ever done. At one point, the dockhand helping us wrangle the boat said, “What are you feeding this beast!?” A steady diet of rusty docking skills drizzled with adverse weather conditions!

Once Tay-Tay was properly secured with every line aboard, the finger pier looked like it had been descended upon by Spiderman on a meth bender. Good thing too; the gloomy forecast didn’t disappoint. Concerned yachtsmen showed up from a hundred miles away to add more lines and fenders to their beloved vessels. Hushed whispers of the fifty-knot gusts predicted haunted the wharf.

The wind built steadily through the night and into the next day without sign of easing. Tayrona was not in optimal position with the brunt of the wind blowing rudely in from aft. Her high windage gave purchase to the gusts, and all day our lines grumbled audibly under the strain. I added a few extra just for kicks. As the gale progressed, the rain adopted a trajectory more commonly seen from an open fire hydrant. We watched nature’s fury from the comfort of the salon over coffee.

There was a pronounced hour in the night where the raging wind subsided leaving only biblical rainfall. Mixing with darkness, the torrents so completely engulfed poor Tayrona that at some point I assumed we had sunk at the dock and were in fact underwater. Finally the morning skies cleared. Though some low clouds still clung child-like to Tauranga’s skirts, the sun peeked out and dried the decks.

We walked three kilometers into town to stretch our legs and enjoy the prodigal sunshine. On the way back we stopped at Bobby’s, a legendary fish market dive that fries up big platters of battered seafood and french fries. “Bes fushn’chups n’a country!”, a passing gent with a tray of crispy goodness said to us as we wafted into the market. Consulting our Kiwi-English translator we realized that he meant, “Best fish and chips in all the land!” We translated, “Thank you very kindly, sir”, and replied, “Cheeyas mayte!”

P1160760

P1160764

We were up before sunrise the next morning, making coffee and throwing off dock lines. Tayrona eased out of the slip without recollection of the ordeal it had been to get her in. We made for the pass and snuck out of port like a thief in the night, heading east towards White Island under favorable winds. Named Whakaari in Maori, which means ‘dramatic island’, the island is the Kiwis’ most active sea volcano, constantly spewing gasses from its active crater. We were going to keep the drama queen company for a day or two.

The day couldn’t have been more perfect. We had a gorgeous fifty-mile spinnaker run, escorted by dolphins, and trolling for kingfish. Morning wind from astern started light built throughout the idyllic day. Soon we were making eight knots, almost expecting the hulls to clear the water as we barreled over the long-period rollers. The only marring of the blue sky was a lone cloud at the horizon, eventually a dark mass appeared beneath it, Whakaari belching its vapor plume.

volcanosailvert

We already had permission to tie to a mooring in Te Awápuia Bay, content with the pleasant passage and our interesting anchorage. The air of elation aboard was quickly replaced by noxious fumes from the venting island. Seems we were directly downwind of the crater. Nostrils puckering and eyes watering, we took refuge in the boat and dogged the hatches. Eventually the wind shifted and the the island ceased its chemical attack on poor Tayrona. One never fully lost the drifting scent of sulphur from the unapologetically off-gassing island. I thought the situation might lend itself to an evening of my own unapologetic off-gassing, but Miranda thought differently.

The next morning the gannets from the nearby colony flew formations overhead. The bay was clear of the green sulphur plumes sometimes ejected into the waters by the island’s volcanic vents. Apparently they come and go in a dance depending on the swirl of the currents and the gastric temperament of the island. The rippling bottom of the anchorage is a dark volcanic sand, low density that would make anchoring a pain. I was glad to have been on a mooring the previous night. Fish and rays hugged the bouldered drop off.

GOPR0013

The island is privately owned and under close scientific study due to its activity, which makes landing prohibited without a guide. We organized to meet up with White Island Tours here before we left Tauranga. They picked us up in a RIB in the afternoon and ferried us to the pummeled remnants of a wharf to explore. The crumbling remnants of an nineteenth century sulfite mine haunted the flats near the landing area and great pillars of steam stood tall in the crater. Craggy terrain painted up with yellows, oranges, and reds stretched from crater floor to rim. We slapped on gas masks and hard hats and followed our guide into the plumes. Even through the respirator the air’s bite made one’s throat scratchy. We poked around the mud pools, steaming vents, and hot runoff rivulets. In the center of the island a lake of acidic mud roiled, throwing blue sulphur dioxide plumes that rose several hundred feet into the air. We explored the volcanic island and the old mining site for a few hours and then were ferried back to the boat.

Woke in the middle of the night to an onshore wind and building chop. The anchorage wasn’t exactly cosy to begin with and now our gassy host was shaking us awake and telling us to get lost. Under a full moon we ditched out of the bay and happily rode the twenty-knot downwind breeze back towards the Coromandel. Ducking rocky islets and freighters along the way we covered what had previously taken us three days’ sail in sixteen jostling hours. We dropped hook on Great Mercury Island and slept like the dead in the flat anchorage.

SailingVertical

Dragged ourselves begrudgingly out of our berths the next morning for a fifty-mile run to Motuihe, just off Auckland. The wind was still providing us a favorable run, this time more comfortable (read: slower) under spinnaker. The leisurely pace gave us time to address the significant corrosion wrought by volcanic gasses on the stainless. All our glittering steel had turned to russet corduroy. It thankfully came off, but not without a good deal of scouring. It’s glamorous, the life of a sailor.

After a quick stopover night in Motuihe we motor-sailed back to our comfy Beach Haven mooring. Just as we were coming into the harbor the starboard engine overheated at the exact moment that we were descended upon by a thousand race boats from the Wednesday night Auckland regatta. I shut down the engine and jumped in the pit and Miranda took the helm, slaloming through the oncoming traffic. I’m glad she was driving; I’ve never been too adept in an arcade, and it felt like a giant game of Tayrona Asteroids. Fast moving ferries, maneuvering container ships, and a bottleneck at the Auckland Harbor Bridge added to the maelstrom. It was all very exciting.

By the time we reached our old mooring I had replaced the impeller on the raw water pump and the thermostat and we were back in business! Still, we tied up on only one engine until I could verify all was well with Belinda. The next morning I tore down the whole cooling system and also went up the mast to scour the rigging back into shiny shape. Always something fun going on aboard Tayrona!