Last Days in New Zealand

24. Apr. 2016
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New Zealand, Passages
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2 Comments

Author: Pete

Location: Bay of Islands, New Zealand

Well, it’s time to go. We’ve been drifting around New Zealand for almost six months and the time has come to head for Australia. Half a year seemed like a long time to stay in Kiwi-land when we were planning the trip, but so much has been packed in that the time has flown and all of a sudden it’s time to go. Plus, it’s getting to be fall and the weather is oscillating between gorgeous and rainy, and I my wimpy blood just can’t handle that kind of climate swing.

Standing in our way is the mercurial Tasman Sea. Somehow in my mind the Tasman looks like an ogre with a boar’s head, jealously guarding Australia’s golden shores. It’s late April now, and the highest chance of finding Taz in a pleasant mood. This is the sweet spot after the hurricanes stop threatening to drop in from the north and before hellacious winter storms roll up from the south. The window seems to last about four weeks and we’ve been watching the weather patterns closely as they develop over “The Ditch.” For the crossing, we’re enlisting the services of Bob McDavit, a local weather router guru who we used coming down from Fiji. The reassurance of an extra pair of eyes in the sky with current meteorologic data cannot be over exaggerated. I’d seriously sell my left kidney for it.

In the last couple weeks we’ve been working to get Tayrona gussied up and ready for sail and sale. After two years of salt abuse, some of the woodwork looked road-rashed like it fell off a Ducati. The varnish on the cockpit table was completely gone and the brightwork around the boat had dings and scuffs. Brightwork is commonly known in the non-anal-sailor community as ‘wood.’ We brought the two tables to a good local carpenter, and then I sanded and varnished everything else myself. It was a lot of dust in the boat, but now it looks sparkly and new. Hot showers in the marina take care of the dust even though you have to pay for them. I love the adage passed down from our friends on Pao Hana that, “Four dollar shower is more than twice as good as two dollar shower.” True dat.

We also took the bimini off and replaced all the zippers, enjoying our convertible for a couple of days in the process. Predictably, we got a good deal of rain just about that time. I also went up the mast and polished the upper rigging, changed the oil and engine mounts, replaced the sink faucet and refrigerator latch, replaced head mirrors, and ejected tons of redundant equipment. Four anchors? Who needs four anchors? Tayrona is sitting a good six inches higher in the water.

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Although a host of projects filled our time from dawn to dusk, but we did get to spend time with friends. Most of our cruising buddies are gathering in Opua, staging here to provision before sailing to foreign shores. Our intended trajectories spread out in all directions, and it’s bittersweet to talk about everyone’s plans for the next months. The end of this entire trip is showing itself on the horizon. I’m taken aback by the realization that we likely won’t see some of our good friends again after we leave here. There are only a handful of boats that cross the Pacific Ocean every year, and in sharing stories and libations over thousands of miles of ocean crews form a unique bond. Sailors are brought together by mutual love of the life aquatic, the freedom of the boundless ocean, and more than a touch of masochism. Sailing friends celebrate the stunning experiences and bemoan the sorrows of sailors together, leaning on each other for support and camaraderie in some of the most beautifully inhospitable places on earth. Then, as it always happens in life, especially ours as expatriates, paths diverge. You have to say goodbye, wish each other fair winds and following seas, and know that your courses may not cross again. It’s sad, but part of the deal.

On a positive note, we picked up Denny from the Kerikeri airport after five flights from Traverse City. I expected to see a trickle of midwesterner come oozing out of the airplane door and puddle on the tarmac when the hatch was opened, but he showed little signs of travel wear. That’s a good sign for crew! We all went out for ribs, and in the next days got a few more things done around the boat and introduced him to friends we’ve been sailing with for the last year and a half. Watching the weather we got dire news about the conditions in the Tasman. Our weather router predicted winds and seas to be “VERY HIGH”, so we sensibly opted to let the trough pass the north island before venturing out to Brisbane. No sense getting needlessly pummeled.

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It worked out well, actually. We had some down time to explore the old whaling town of Russell and get out to the islands for a couple of days.

Now, before shoving off, we’re checking out of the country and replacing the lost ballast with provisions, water, and fuel. Can’t get too greedy about the speed. Looks like the passage weather will be good, worth the wait as a big ugly trough is ripping through The Ditch right now. Taz seems to be in good spirits.

So now it’s time to go. That’s the short of it. Hauling anchor in the morning and out we’ll go on the falling tide. Back to the sea with Tayrona one last time.

Tayrona’s Return to Opua, NZ

06. Apr. 2016
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New Zealand
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Author: Pete

Location: Northeast coast of New Zealand

Before shoving off north, Miranda and I took our favorite mooring for a few days to get some work done on the boat. We ended up blowing off our to-do list to spend time with our Kiwi friends Bruce, Linda, Mel, and Nico, locals of Beach Haven. Bruce and Linda have an amazing house overlooking the water, complete with a boathouse and dock. We met them in our last couple of months around Auckland and have gotten together here and there when we’re in the neighborhood (read: moored out in front of their house). They took us out to a burgeoning taproom with local beer, we met up at a weekend farmers market, and went out to lunch. One night they even had us stay in their gorgeous house when we miscalculated the tides and Dinghy was stuck in the mud. It’s been fun to be around long enough to connect with interesting people. The flip side is that it’s sad to start saying goodbye to said interesting friends. On our last eventing in Beach Haven, we took Dinghy over to their boat shed for “an afternoon glass of wine and some snacks on the wharf,” turned into many glasses of wine, turned into delivery pizza, turned into trading our sailboat for Bruce’s country home in north New Zealand. Yup, these are those kind of good buddies and a perfect day was had by all. In the early morning we rode the tide one last time under the Harbor Bride and out of Auckland with heavy hearts and and slightly aching heads.

The winds were light as we left the city astern. We motorsailed to Omaha Bay our first day, then made for Whangarei the next. Miranda and I anchored Tayrona off Marsden Cove and went out to dinner with our friends on Georgia. We were all so involved in catching up from the last couple of months’ activity that we didn’t realize that we’d likely not be seeing them again after that evening. Back aboard Tayrona later in the evening I stood on the transom and watched the birds play in the flood lights of the shipyard. Their feathers lit up in orange under the sodium lamps as they caught insects, but they disappeared from view as they flew outside the light’s beam. The birds disappearing and quickly reappearing was an oddly comforting sight after saying goodbye to good friends.

The next morning we rounded Whangarei Heads and continued on our journey north, this time with much more favorable winds. It was a long sail up to Whangamumu Harbor, but in twenty knots of wind with full canvas up we scooted right along. It felt great to be stretching our sails after several weeks in Auckland.

When the sun was high overhead, a pod of dolphins swooped in to ride Tayrona’s bow wake. They ended up staying around the boat for two hours, jumping, cavorting, and carrying on. They’d take off for a few minutes, then chase the boat down, surfing along in the following seas. When they’d approach from the starboard, their spray caught the sunlight and lit up in rainbows. It was like an eight year old girl’s dream- dolphins and rainbows. I kept looking around for a boy band to show up riding unicorns.

Over the past two years I’ve developed a special technique to capture underwater images.

Sometimes the dolphins would zoom by the boat in a silver streak. They’re blowing bubbles out of the top of their head as they swim, leaving a trail like smoke off a stunt plane. I thought it might be dolphin flatulence.

After a night in secluded Whangamumu, we ran again under accommodating winds up to Cape Brett. We squeezed between the headlands and Motukokaku Island, the seas tumultuous from waves reflecting off the sheer bluffs. It can be difficult to see the sides of the pass with the sails eased out on a run. Sort of like driving your car with newspapers stuck to the windshield. We came around the point and jibed the mainsail, fighting some current to make it through the pass and feeling like real sailors with our fancy maneuvering. Then we were back in the sheltered waters of the Bay of Islands. The wind was still ripping at twenty knots as we raced into Opua- the place where our whole New Zealand adventure started and will soon come to an end.

Gorkiewicz Galavanting in New Zealand

29. Mar. 2016
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New Zealand
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Author: Pete

Location: North Island, New Zealand

My folks had been on the move for several days by the time Miranda and I picked them up at the airport. They had spent a few days in San Francisco en route to break up the Chinese Checkers game one is required play to get to New Zealand. They shouldered the jet lag admirably as we explored Auckland the first few days. Muriwai beach is a short drive away and we got out body surfing to wash off some of the road dust. Gannets nest on the cliffs around the beach and there are paths where you can look down on their colonies, which look like egg cartons with evenly spaced pits and bumps. Curiously, the birds lay their eggs on the bumps, which seems difficult to keep an egg balanced on the top of. It must be stressful for the adult gannets, keeping their little fluff-ball offspring from rolling off the precipice like a tumbleweed in the sea breeze. I’m sure my parents identified with their plight in trying to keep their brood out of danger…

Miranda and I had been planning a little road trip to see some of the countryside with my folks, and after a few days in Auckland we drove south down the wrong side of the road. The first day found us Waitomo, a rolling land riddled with deep caverns, most of which are inhabited by alien life. In the blackness, glow worms cling to the cave ceiling wielding blue-green luminescent tails. Their otherworldly light attracts cave insects, which are caught in sticky hanging filaments before being devoured by the worms. I was glad they were only a few inches long. Nothing worse than being eaten by carnivorous, glowing worms.

The bioluminescence attracts not only prey, but also gaggles of tourists. We weren’t able to resist. Guides lead oglers into the earth along dimly lit catwalks and cathedrals, and it feels a little touristy until the boat ride. In small groups, we were ushered onto metal boats. After each boat filled, it disappeared silently into the dark. The crafts are pulled along by shadowy boatman along a series of ropes strung throughout the cave. In the darkness, the collective titter of the group stops completely. Not a ripple nor a sigh is to be heard; it is what I’d imagine a journey across the river Styx to be like. To make it more surreal, the glow worms blaze away on the ceiling above, blue-green, spreading out like galactic clusters. The webbed structure of their colonies reminded me of images brought back by the Hubble Space Telescope. It’s quite a trip. Eventually the boat emerges from the gloom and everyone disembarks, blinking in the light and quieted by the experience. Photography isn’t allowed in the caves to protect the glow worms and the unique experience- a couple of these shots aren’t ours.

We spent a few hours in the Otorohanga Kiwi House & Bird Sanctuary, which has several live kiwis in circadian-inverted enclosures. The habitats are made dark during the day so visitors can see the nocturnal birds, helpful if you don’t want to spend the night in the bush with night vision goggles. Leave that noise to the military spooks. Aside from the star kiwis, there were flocks of other interesting avians in the sanctuary, some quite friendly indeed.

New Zealand has fantastic short hikes everywhere you go. Between Waitomo and Taupo, our next point of call, we explored some great hiking tracks. We wandered through tree fern forests one day and to alpine cascades the next.

The short hikes were a good warm-up for us in preparation for the Tongariro Alpine Crossing. The approach to the volcanic massif is through rolling steppe covered in tall grasses. The day-long trek starts by following a wide river valley, then up rocky switchbacks to a saddle between a pair of peaks. It was a bit of a slog for our withered boat legs but worth the effort for the views.

The following day, we drove to Rotorua, the geothermal capital of New Zealand, and stopped to soak our achy legs in Kerosene Creek. Some springs are often lukewarm, but the whole rushing river is hot hot! At the end of a dirt road, a short walk leads to a waist-deep pool under a short waterfall. Steam rises from the churning falls and obscures the overhanging trees. Rotorua feels a little touristy, but Kerosene Creek is still a quiet, local swimming hole. Aside from a little grit in the swim trunks, you couldn’t ask for a more perfect hot springs experience.

The plan was to explore Rotorua’s geothermal parks but the weather was delivering the deluge promised by the forecast. We calculated that a sunny day on the boat was better than a rainy day in a car, so we left a day early to get back to the good weather around Auckland. After a brief provisioning, Tayrona rode the ebbing tide out into the Hauraki Gulf. We spent a night in Oneroa and then Hooks Bay on Waiheke. The weather was fantastic, and we caught a few kahawai. They put up a good fight. Kiwis describe them by saying they “punch above their weight class.” I like that. We also harvested swarthy green-lipped mussels which we made into fritters.

Tayrona carried us fifteen miles east to Coromandel peninsula to find the fruitful scallop beds off of Motuwi Island. My dad and I dove for the tasty mollusks until the current threatened to blow us out to sea. We raked in a good dozen or so and then sailed to Chamberlains Bay on north side of Ponui Island where we celebrated our hoard like pirates after a raid. The night was cloudless, and we slurped garlic scallops under star-encrusted skies.

In the morning we motored in a light headwind to Rangitoto, a volcanic infant right in the mouth of Auckland Harbor. After dragging dinghy up the landing ramp, we tromped a few hours through the sharp scoria to the summit. There were more tui birds than we could count on our hike. The chortling ramble of their calls reminds me of R2-D2. In the late afternoon we made the summit, rewarded by the sixty meters deep crater lined with climbing vegetation and the panoramic views of the Hauraki Gulf. Rangitoto also has some neat lava tubes that we explored with head lights before heading back to the boat. Breaks in the earth let the pseudo-spelunker hike through passages melted out by lava tendrils only five hundred years ago when the bulk of the island was formed. Tubular.

Even had an owl sighting on our hike back to the boat. This little guy is a New Zealand native called a Morepork. I’ll have some more… pork! Gotta love that name.

In the morning we hauled anchor and sailed back under the Harbor Bridge in Auckland. New Zealand had been voting on a referendum to change the nation’s flag. For the last months the bridge has sported both the current flag and the new proposed banner, but as we rode the tide in only the old Union Jack flag flew. We are certainly creatures of habit. Back at Hobsonville Marina we rustled up some hot showers and lunch before my padres took off to the airport. It’ll be a long trip back home for them. Their transportation home to Charlevoix will include a sailboat, ferry, bus, several airplanes, and a long car ride. We have some fanatically supportive parents to come so far to see us. We were so happy that we got to explore New Zealand together!