Speedwell of Hong Kong

Sailing the Blue Lane to Fiji

Saturday, May 22nd, 2021

May 2021

While I was moored in Kerikeri I spoke to the skipper of a New Zealand boat who had sailed to Fiji and back last year using the newly created ‘Blue Lane’ scheme to allow yachts to safely visit the islands. I had been under the impression that once there, you had to remain tied up in a marina. Apparently not. I was not really looking forward to another cold winter and did some investigating. What had to be done was to submit to a Covid-19 test and if it was negative, leave within 72 hours of the sample being taken. It was also necessary to have an AIS transponder active for the entire voyage to prove that no stops were made along the way. An agent was essential to coordinate the negotiations.

I decided to go for it and had Speedwell hauled out at the boatyard in Opua for a fresh coat of antifouling. I was able to buy an AIS transponder and antenna splitter while I was there. I also installed a new solar panel and controller to power the additional electronics.

I moved back to the anchorage near Russell and made an appointment for the test at the local medical centre. The sample would have to be sent to an approved pathology lab in Auckland, the results returned to the medical centre and then to me so that I could forward it to my agent in Fiji, who would pass it on to the officials that end and get their approval for my trip. Only then would I be able to clear with customs in Opua. All within 72 hours. Of course, advance warning of departure had to be given to New Zealand customs and an appointment made with an officer to travel from Whangarei to Opua on the planned day, dependant on receiving permission to travel to Fiji from that end. Oh boy. Of course, the weather, which is normally the most important factor when planning to start a voyage became irrelevant.

Well, amazingly enough, it all came together and on the morning of 30^th April (a Friday) I left the Bay of Islands with 2 hours to go before the time limit was up.

Friday, 30^th April, 2021

I woke early to get everything ready for departure before 9am which is when my 72 hours would expire. A final notification to NZ Customs that I was now actually under way and another to the agent in Fiji giving my ETA. As it had taken 19 days for the passage from Tonga to Opua I used the same time frame for this trip. I think that the agent was more used to dealing with superyachts who could do the trip in under a week and he seemed a little incredulous.

I dropped the mooring I had conveniently ‘borrowed’ and we were off at last. I raised the full sail but had to use the engine as there was no wind. I had to admit to a nostalgic pang as I passed the anchorage near Russell, but the wind was picking up a little and at last I could kill the noisy engine. It was a perfect day for starting a passage, a gentle F3 SW wind and a calm sea. I had the full sail up and the new battens looked very sound and confidence-inspiring. I hooked up the Navik and it coped magnificently. A small group of little blue penguins watched our approach and prudently dived and disappeared as we got closer.

At sunset we were still within internet range of the coast and I was able to get a last weather forecast. I downloaded the PassageWeather charts for the next few days and they seemed fairly reassuring. Some stronger winds were forecast but I was hoping that the worst would have passed by the time I expected to arrive in Fiji.

I slept in 20 minute snatches as there is quite a bit of big ship traffic near the coast. The AIS warned me of 3 which came within my 5 mile range. As usual, I actually spotted them before the warning went off.

Saturday, 1^st May,2021

Before dawn, I was rudely awoken by an unexpected gybe. Oh dear, the Navik windvane was flopping about at an ineffective angle and seemed to have become disconnected. I hauled the sail in and hove-to. The weather was still beautifully calm and the moon was up. I had to unbolt the vane section and bring it in-board to repair it. The problem had happened before and was easy enough to fix. Soon we were on our way again.

For the next few days things were pretty steady and we were able to make good some easting which I was happy about as the stronger winds that were forecast were all from the east. Daily runs ranged around about 70 nm which I was quite content with, confirming my normal passage planning speed of 3 knots.

Wednesday, 5^th May, 2021

The weather turned nasty today as predicted by the forecast. Speedwell has no wind instruments but judging by the state of the water and the performance of the Navik, and the quantity of seawater arriving in the cockpit I judged it to be 25-30 knots. I blessed the junk rig, put in three reefs to maintain our comfort level, and we plugged doggedly on, now hard on the wind but still able to lay the course. Things could be worse. Instant noodles for dinner tonight.

With no way of picking up a weather forecast one tries to get clues from the state of the sky. According to the rules compiled by Admiral Fitzroy (Darwin’s captain on the HMS Beagle), ‘A bright yellow sky at sunset presages wind; a pale yellow sky, wet’.

The sunset tonight was an ominous lemony yellow.

Thursday, 6^th May, 2021

Another day of awful weather. Grey skies, big seas, strong winds, wet boat. But we are holding our own, painfully jogging along to windward (with a flat junk sail!), actually the sail is doing remarkably well and we are still averaging a healthy 50+ nm a day. With constant seas over the deck there is a lot of water in the bilge. I use the little electric pump to keep it under control. Unfortunately the regular extreme heeling to port causes water to slosh up the inside of the boat and has thoroughly soaked the foam mattress of my bunk. A nasty squelshiness that I must endure. There’s no way to dry it out, so I’ll just have to put up with it for the rest of the trip.

Proper cooking on the primus has become just too much of a challenge, but using the small fully gimballed gas stove I can at least make tea or coffee, or boil water for those noodles.

It’s a bit dark and gloomy down below, so whenever possible I don full foul-weather gear and wedge myself safely in a corner of the cockpit, hoping to spot a whale, a dolphin, a bird, anything really. So far no cetaceans, but there have been some beautiful petrels. With the help of Peter Harrison’s wonderful book on Seabirds (thanks again Annie!) I was able to identify two Kermadec petrels, a Westland Black and a Whiteheaded. I would love to try to get photos but I don’t have a waterproof camera and can’t risk using my phone.

Friday, 7^th May, 2021

The heavy weather continues. The AIS is flashing a red error light every now and then. I hope it is still working.

Sitting in the cockpit I watch the birds which seem to have befriended us. There are two Westland petrels which return every afternoon. They circle the boat and swoop down to pick up whatever appears in our wake, then make a low, slow pass up the starboard side of the boat, flying to windward, almost stationary as they work hard against the wind, barely 10m away. A wonderful opportunity to really look at them. No binoculars required.

The sun was occasionally breaking through the clouds and two skittering and fluttering white-bellied storm petrels were making the most of the tiny sea creatures disturbed by our wake. They were a joy to watch, but how hard they have to work to feed themselves.

Baked beans (cold) for supper.

Saturday, 8^th May 2021

Chocolate biscuit with my coffee this morning as it’s my birthday (73).

I think I’ll keep the bubbly till I get safely in to Savusavu.

A passage from the book I’m reading seemed rather apt, the last sentence particularly:

This sunset for instance, how lavishly it was laid on, the clouds, the light on the sea, that heartbreaking, blue-green distance, laid on, all of it, as if to console some lost, suffering wayfarer. I have never really got used to being on this earth. John Banville – The Book of Evidence

Sunday, 9^th May 2021

And still the weather continues. Just 3 panels up, periodic swampings by breaking waves, but laying the course and making steady progress. 60 nm per day.

Passed the half way mark this evening – 580 nm to go.

Ready-to-eat curry for dinner, I don’t think I’ll try that again.

Tuesday, 11^th May 2021

More strong winds and massive seas. Big waves break over us and water gushes through around the sides of the sliding hatch, drenching me as I lie in my bunk.

The Navik was wobbling about again and I have used a length of string to secure it as things were a bit too rough for dismantling it as I did before.

I’ve been filling in crosswords as a break from reading.

The wind eased off a bit this afternoon and the sun came out. I was able to raise a 4^th panel and the sunset this evening was a promising pink. Dare we hope?

Wednesday, 12^th May 2021

At about 4am I was awoken by a gybe. As dreaded, the Navik had come completely adrift again. It was a moonless night and I decided to wait till daybreak before attempting repairs. I disconnected it from the tiller and allowed Speedwell to steer herself. Only an occasional nudge from me was required. Conditions were easy, with a calm sea, F4 wind just ahead of the beam and the stars out in force. I steered by keeping the southern cross astern. It was much better to be out in the starry night than struggling to sleep in my clammy bunk.

As soon as it was light I got the windvane dismantled and did the necessary repairs. This time I used some contact adhesive on the offending bits and secured it again with string. It’s becoming a familiar routine. Getting it re-connected to the paddle at sea can be a challenge, even hove-to, as we were, but it slipped back easily into position and I tightened the securing screws with relief. We were on our way again.

Saturday, 15^th May 2021

A slight change in the motion of the boat had me climbing out of my bunk at about 0200. The wind had dropped a bit and we were falling off course. I tried to raise another panel as we had been creeping along with 3 reefs in. Oh dear, the halyard seemed to be jammed and it was impossible to see what might be causing it in the pitch dark night. I decided to go back to bed and wait until morning.

After my first cup of coffee, I hove-to and tried to sort out the problem. The halyard was totally jammed. Impossible to raise or lower the sail. The culprit was my ragged NZ courtesy flag which I had neglected to lower when I left the Bay of Islands and later the bad weather kept me off the foredeck. Now it had become partly detached and had wrapped itself around the halyard, effectively making a secure slip knot which tightened under tension in either direction. Something had to be done. I tried jiggling it about with the boathook, but it was a long way up the mast and my position was precarious. I had a little think.. OK, loosen the flag halyard and try to carefully reverse the winding, Easier imagined than done, but we got there in the end. Another lesson painfully learnt: never go to sea with a flapping courtesy flag in the rigging.

At noon today, Matuka Island was just visible in the haze, 23nm to the NE.

For the first time, the wind blew warm and tropical.

Sunday, 16^th May 2021

We are getting closer. Passed Moala island to starboard at dawn.

Two red-footed boobies came to inspect us,

At noon we had just 100 nm to go.

The afternoon was spent constantly raising and lowering one or two panels as one squall after another hit us. Lots of rain.

A wonderful red sky in the evening was this sailor’s delight. I toasted it with my last can of beer.

Monday, 17^th May 2021

A beautiful sailing day. I had a shower in the cockpit enjoying the wonderful tropical warmth.

I was able to do a bit of cleaning and tidying up in the battlefield below. We are not going to get in before dark today (those squalls yesterday really slowed us down) but there are still plenty of days before we could be forced to arrive during the weekend with overtime fees payable. I mixed up a sweetcorn and smoked salmon salad for lunch which was delicious.

There have been very few birds over the last couple of days, but two masked boobies flew past – an adult with a juvenile in it’s wake.

At about 11pm I hove-to 10 miles off the coast to wait for dawn.

Tuesday, 18^th May 2021

In the morning I sailed the last few miles into Savusavu Bay. I wasn’t sure where I was supposed to wait for the Navy to escort me in to the quarantine anchorage and tried calling them on the VHF. No response. I carried on sailing. Another lovely day. Once around the point, the water was flat and a useful breeze kept us moving. It felt good to be back in the tropics. Green hillsides, small houses scattered about on the steep slopes. One or two yachts anchored off tiny white beaches.

Eventually someone picked up my radio calls and a motor boat with 3 be-masked and be-gloved officials came out to meet me. I was news to them, although I had expected my agent in Denarau to have forwarded my info. I had to repeat all the advance notice of arrival information verbally. Then another longish wait, motoring now to stay in place. At last they were back and led the way to the quarantine anchorage.

Tags: Blue Lane, Fiji
Posted in Cruising, Fiji, South Pacific | 1 Comment »

Back to the Bay of Islands

Saturday, March 6th, 2021

January/February, 2021

I was reluctant to leave Great Barrier Island as I had really enjoyed being there. The magnificent scenery and unspoilt countryside. The remoteness. One of the few places I could imagine living out my dotage.

But time was passing and I had to be on my way. No news yet re the extension of my visa, so uncertainty reigns.

My reason for leaving Great Barrier was really to be in Whangarei for the launch of Annie Hill’s new boat FanShi. She has spent 5 years building it and it is a stunning achievement. Junk-rigged of course, so there would be a faithful contingent of ‘junkies’ there to watch the splash. The weather was kind, the boat floated on her waterlines and Annie popped the required bottle of fizz to consecrate the vessel, in great style.

Later there was a celebratory gathering on Le Canard Bleu, Paul Thompson’s more spacious boat. Next day 5 junks took off down-river in slow formation, the wind being extremely light. I followed later after fixing a problem with Speedwell’s engine, and joined them in Parua Bay for a few days, before starting up the coast to the Bay of Islands.

I made a short stop at Tutukaka and this time went ashore to do the walk to the lighthouse, which was quite spectacular and busy with weekend hikers. I was able to get some pictures of the entrance which can be quite thrilling to negotiate under sail. Now the water was calm and it was hard to imagine the crashing waves on either side that I’d experienced on my first visit.

The next day I sailed further up the coast to the wonderfully sheltered Whangaruru Harbour where Annie had holed up so that she could make some necessary adjustments to the set of FanShi’s sail in the calm water to be found there. It was my first visit and it was a chance to get the kayak inflated and to a bit of exploring. The water was on the murky side, but I paddled happily around the mangroves. A flock of fairy terns were making spectacular dives on their unfortunate prey despite the less than clear water. Three days later I was ready to leave and a convenient southerly wind gave me a speedy ride as far as Cape Brett at which point I had to turn into the wind to approach the Bay of Islands and struggled for 5 hours to beat in for the last 10 miles. I made it to the nearest convenient sheltered anchorage just before sunset, thanks to an hour of motor sailing. Hard on the wind in a rough sea is not Speedwell’s best point of sail. It was still blowing strongly, but tucked snugly into the passage between Moturua and Motukiekie islands it was reasonably sheltered for the night. Next morning it poured with rain and I was quite happy to stay exactly where I was and watched as more hardy souls ventured out into the nasty, blustery weather.

Soon enough the sun came out again and the next day I had a delightful sail across the bay to the Te Puna inlet. It was a Sunday and a swarm of Moths were racing around the buoys at breathtaking speeds, virtually airborne on their ‘stilts’. I plodded stolidly on, trusting that they were capable of avoiding me. It reminded me very vividly of the International Moth Regatta I’d attended with Dale in Bermuda a few years ago.

There was an ideal place to anchor near a small beach in a spot called Patunui Bay. The water was invitingly clear and I had a quick swim to freshen up. Now I had a chance to contact Karin and Richard who I had met in 2009 when we were moored at San Isidro, near Buenos Aires. They had sailed from New Zealand on their gaff-rigged boat Isis, taking the southerly route and through the Beagle Channel. Now, after many adventures, they are land-based and settled near to the Kerikeri Basin.

I waited for a rising tide and picked my way carefully up the winding channel to Kerikeri. As I neared the basin, I spotted Richard and Karin rowing towards where their current boat, Escapology, is moored, tucked in to a bend in the river. They helped me tie up Speedwell alongside their boat and whisked me away for a quick tour of their very wonderful riverside property. The next day Richard helped me move across the river and tie up between two posts. An absolutely perfect spot with a great view of the historic Stone Store and easy access ashore via a floating dinghy dock complete with fresh water tap. It doesn’t get much better.

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Exploring the Hauraki Gulf

Sunday, November 22nd, 2020

November, 2020

My stay at Smokehouse Bay was cut short when the weekend crowds arrived and I scuttled off to find a quiet spot in Wairahi Bay just a short mile away. It is a fairly narrow and steep-sided fiord-like bay which reminded me of some of the beautiful caletas in Tierra del Fuego (with better weather).

 

 

I stayed for a few days putting a new coat of varnish on Speedwell’s tiller, and then moved on down the coast of Great Barrier Island to Whangaparapara. As I was sailing along, a big white area on the rocky shore turned out to be a densely packed breeding ground for gannets. Many birds were flying overhead and diving on unsuspecting prey to take back to their hungry brood.

 

 

The wind was coming from the SW and I found good shelter near the entrance to Whangaparapara in Graveyard Bay. I had thought of hiking up to the hot springs but it meant a long row across the bay and the wind was really picking up. True to its name, there is a small graveyard ashore, and as darkness fell a faint light glimmered eerily from one of the graves. I reassured myself that someone must have planted one of those solar-powered garden lights there. Next day the wind turned more southerly and it was a grey drizzly day so I stayed put and settled down with a good book.

 

 

Once again I needed to do some shopping so as soon as the weather cleared I sailed on to Tryphena where I had been told there was a grocery shop. It was a lovely little sail into a fairly open and shallow bay. I needed to anchor quite a long way off the beach at Mulberry Cove. I had become used to always being able to get internet access on my phone, but here it was very patchy. I rowed ashore and hauled my dinghy up the sandy beach, very grateful that it was sand and not mud. A local dog-walker gave me directions to the shop in the next little bay which led me along an interesting footpath following the coastline with beautiful sea views round every corner, then across the next beach to a good shop and an Irish Pub. Internet too. I restocked with as much as I could carry and headed happily back to Speedwell.

 

 

Soon it was time to move on again, and with a favourable forecast I sailed across the gap to the Coromandel Peninsula lured on by the romantic sound of the name. My new battens looking very smart and shiny. Passing Cape Colville the water was quite turbulent but we made steady, if rather uncomfortable progress and then a fast dead downwind run along the string of large rocks and small islands leading to the entrance to Coromandel Harbour. The wind was now just E of North and I wanted to get in to Te Kouma Harbour a little further on. But then the sky darkened and we were struck with a drenching cloudburst reducing forward visibility to less than the boat length. I hastily hauled in the sail, which by now was reefed right down, and hove-to to let the squall pass. I was suddenly surprised by a noisy dive boat which had motored close up wanting to know if I was OK. I gave them an emphatic thumbs up and they roared off into the gloom. It was thoughtful of them to stop by. Soon enough the rain eased off and I was able to see where the gap in the rocks leading to Te Kouma was. Off we sailed again and after a gentle gybe were able to make the right-angled turn into the harbour and beautiful Squadron Bay.

 

 

I spent a few days just relaxing and enjoying the exquisite surroundings and an easy stroll ashore up a grassy hill which gave a good view of Whanganui Island and Coromandel Harbour. Once again I waited out a weekend until most other boats had left and then moved around to a sheltered little cove on the SE coast of Whanganui. I was able to pick up a weather forecast here and it seemed like a good idea to move across to Rotoroa Island just off Waiheki which would be a fine place to shelter from the NE gale warning. Another fast downwind sail and exciting passage through a narrow gap into the shelter of Southwest Bay on Rotoroa. A sprinkling of other small boats had also decided to take refuge there and I later discovered we were four single-handers, 3 women and 1 male. Average age over 70. We all weathered the gale successfully.

 

 

When the wind eventually dropped I moved Speedwell a little closer to the beach and joined Helen from one of the other boats for a good walk ashore. The island is a nature reserve and a lot of work is being done to replant trees and restore the vegetation. Once again magnificent views of the maze of craggy islands and deep inlets all around. The distinctive Sky Tower marked the city of Auckland a mere 10 or so nm to the west.

On Saturday the ferry arrived bringing people to watch the release of a young kiwi. The island provides a safe predator-free refuge for the chicks at a stage when they are very vulnerable. Their survival rate in the wild being about 5%. By keeping them protected until they are more able to fend for themselves they have something like a 60% chance of making it when returned to their natural surroundings. I was thrilled to be able to watch as a young bird was removed from its protective crate and gently cradled in the arms of its keeper who then carried it around for everyone to get a good look and take photos. No touching, of course. It was quite passive and sleepy as they are nocturnal creatures. It was a wonderful and unexpected experience.

 

 

I had hoped to spend a bit longer exploring Rotoroa but now the wind was shifting more to the west and the anchorage was very open in that direction. The other boats, being more familiar with the area suggested a move across to Omaru Bay on the east coast of Waiheki Island. It seemed like a good idea and I had a slow sail to windward to join them. By now I was running out of stuff again, my main problem being my last dwindling bar of chocolate. There is a good supermarket on the island which can be easily reached by bus from Rocky Bay on the south coast, so on I sailed to yet another beautiful spot. Unfortunately the wind was now turning more SW which made Rocky Bay a less than ideal anchorage and I did not feel that I could leave Speedwell unattended to go on a shopping expedition. We spent one night there and then sailed on heading in a clockwise direction around the island to Oneroa on the north coast. Although the wind had dropped by now, there was an uncomfortable NE swell rolling in. There were no other boats there but a Strong Wind, possible SW Gale Warning was in force and I decided to hang in there.

 

 

In the morning more boats started to arrive and the bay was soon quite crowded with others seeking shelter from the SW wind. And it did blow. I spent the day on board. The shopping would have to wait another day. Fortunately Helen had given me a bag containing a selection of survival rations (including chocolate) before she left and I had plenty of my very successful home brewed wine to keep my spirits up in the evening.

 

 

When the weather finally cleared it was beautiful and I had a chance to explore the village and walk all the way across the island to the ferry dock at Matiatia. There is a choice of paths and naturally I took the less-travelled high track which proved to be very interesting as there has been a big effort at replanting trees in the area. The original kauri and other timber trees had been plundered for ship and general construction leaving the land bare. There is a lot of new growth and here and there a neat little sign has been planted next to a tree giving its name and description. I had been quite frustrated up to now trying to identify the local trees which were mostly all strange to me so this was a very welcome addition.

 

 

Over the weekend more and more boats arrived in this really lovely bay which is also conveniently close to the crowded marinas of Auckland. The weather was perfect and people were making the most of it. A swarm of little Optimist sailors were being put through their paces in the middle of the bay, the gentle wind barely enough to keep them moving. I decided to move around to Hooks Bay on the eastern coast of Waiheki to be ready for a jump back to Great Barrier when the weather was right. I motored carefully through the packed anchorage and once clear of the Optimists had a lovely gentle sail around the coast. As I was leaving the bay I spotted Oryx motoring in in the distance. The first time I had seen her at sea.

 

 

Hooks Bay was almost empty of boats and I found a good place to drop the anchor in 5m. I was a little disappointed when I rowed ashore the next morning to find that the Stony Batter trail had been closed since March due to Covid-19. Maybe someone had forgotten to take down the sign as all other trails appear to be open. I had a pleasant stroll along the beach and watched some dotterels, a caspian tern, red-billed gulls and some paradise shelducks pottering about at the mouth of a small stream that spilled out onto the beach.

 

On Tuesday there was a good wind for the sail back to Great Barrier Island where I hoped to find a place where I would be able to stop for a few days without having to be constantly aware of the ever-changing wind direction and forced to keep moving. All rather different to places like the Caribbean where you can depend on a pretty steady NE trade-wind for weeks on end.
I made an early start as the entrance to Port Fitzroy was 40nm away and had to be entered in daylight. A slightly slow start in SW F2-3 but by 9am we were moving nicely at 4 knots in something a bit stronger. Really, really great. As we approached the coast the wind strengthened and veered more to the west and I found myself once again on a dead downwind run into a narrow rocky inlet. Not really my favourite activity. I reefed down to 4 panels and struggled to see just where the opening was. Not easy to spot. Luckily I had a waypoint for the entrance but needed to actually see it. Of course once in the sheltered approach between a series of small islands our speed dropped right off and the wind direction became a bit confused. I prudently started the engine and with the sail sheeted tightly in, motored through the Man of War passage in a sedately safe fashion.

One reason for returning to Great Barrier was the lure of the fresh water and laundry facilities at Smokehouse Bay. Although it was only a Tuesday the anchorage was totally crammed with boats. I decided to sail on by and made my way to Wairahi Bay a little further on which was almost empty and where I’d spent a few days on my previous visit.

 

 

A short while later Bob and Kate on Sylph VI motored over to join me. They had recently relaunched after spending many months on the hard in Whangarei doing a very extensive refit. The boat was looking immaculate and it was great to see them again. On Friday Kate and I rowed across to a little jetty across the bay which gave access to Barrier Gold where Sven has an ingenious and enormous still for extracting the precious volatile oils from Manuka and Kanuka leaves. It was noisy and I couldn’t really hear what he was saying but he gave us a detailed lecture on the process and I was happy to be able to buy a small jar of Original Kanuka Balm which is good for an enormous variety of uses.

But Bob was keen to keep moving and after a farewell dinner on Speedwell I watched them sail away on Saturday morning heading for points south.

 

I still haven’t got my laundry done, but it looks as though the crowds are thinning out at Smokehouse so maybe it will be washday on Monday.

Posted in Cruising, Great Barrier Island, Hauraki Gulf, New Zealand | 1 Comment »

Great Barrier Island

Saturday, October 24th, 2020

23^rd October 2020

I left the comfortable anchorage in the Hatea River where I had spent nearly 3 months since relaunching. I had hoped to leave sooner but got caught up in the complexities of applying for a visa extension. If it is granted I will be able to stay in New Zealand until June next year by which time it might be possible to continue voyaging. Uncertainty reigns.

 

My first stop was all of 2.5 nm from where I started, at a convenient anchorage on the north coast of Limestone Island. It was a Sunday and the area was busy with local boats. Not much movement as most were just drifting with sails up, waiting for some wind. It came eventually and the little flotilla moved off in a cloud of pointy white sails.

 

The tide was falling and the coastal path that circles the small island was soon sufficiently exposed to allow an exploratory ramble. I rowed ashore and followed the coastline. The island is a sanctuary for Kiwi fledglings but I saw no evidence of them. Not much chance really, as they are nocturnal creatures. Variegated Oystercatchers were gathered en masse on an old jetty making a lot of raucous noise. I’d never seen so many together in one place before. It was quite an uneven rocky shore and I had to watch where I put my feet. Steep limestone cliffs showed where the abandoned quarry had been.

 

I was able to get a good look at the anchorage on the opposite shore to where I had stopped with Speedwell. It would give better protection in a northerly wind and was a bit more remote from the activity around the club at Onerahi. But two other boats were already anchored there and I was happy to stay where I was. The path led through the ruins of the old limestone factory and a small flock of woolly sheep observed me ruminatively from the shade of an enormous tree. Oystercatchers continued their piercing cries. The next day I dutifully took the higher path which was quite interesting and gave magnificent views of the river.

 

An easterly wind was forecast for the next few days, so I decided to head down to The Nook in Parua Bay to wait for the right weather for the next leg of my trip. I was able to sail the short distance with the ebbing tide helping me along and found a perfect spot to shelter from the coming wind. The Nook is a popular spot for boats in transit up or down the river providing a well-sheltered place to wait for a favourable tide. I needed a good wind to help me on the way to Great Barrier Island about 45 miles to the SE. Unfortunately the wind seemed determined to blow strongly from that very direction and, not being in any sort of hurry I was content to just wait.

 

After a few days of unrelenting south easterly winds my supplies were starting to run low and I moved around to the inner bay where I thought I might be able to get ashore and do some shopping. I rowed as far as possible towards the shallow eastern end of the bay. It was low tide and the mud flats extended a long way. I soon had to abandon the dinghy, tied to the root of a tree at a rocky spot on the southern shore, and then walked the rest of the way. It was a very muddy experience. Luckily I happened upon a convenient fresh water hose on an open lawn area. Not sure if I was trespassing or if this was a public park, I very gratefully rinsed the mud off my shoes, feet and legs up to the knees and headed along an interesting path to the village of Parua where there is a small supermarket. By the time I got back to the dinghy the wind had picked up from the east and I had an exciting and very fast downwind row back to Speedwell, taking great care not to get blown past my little yellow boat.

 

I still had about 7 miles to sail to Whangarei Heads and the open sea, so as soon as the weather improved I moved down to Urquharts Bay where I would be well placed to start the trip to Great Barrier. Nancy and Tim were there on their boat, ‘Larus’ and picked me up to go for a walk ashore. Another very good trail with a mixture of great sea views and rolling green hills dotted with black cattle busily converting grass to beef.

At last the weather seemed possible for heading out and I left early the next morning. Of course, now the wind was just too light and I was forced to motor sail most of the way to get in before dark. But the sun was out and the batteries got a good charge. Although it wasn’t able to do much with the lack of wind, the sail looked very good with its straight and shiny new battens. At about six I dropped anchor in Nagle Cove and realized that I was in a totally different sort of place to busy Whangarei.

 

Next day, after a leisurely breakfast I hauled up 4 panels and had a delightful downwind sail to Kaiarara Bay where I anchored near to the start of a trail that goes up to Mount Hobson, the highest point on the island. This must be one of the most beautiful trails around. A well maintained path with raised causeways in places to protect the nesting areas of local birds. Whenever a stream needed to be crossed there was either a wooden bridge or an exciting suspension bridge. No need to scramble all the way down, boulder hop or wade across and then scramble all the way back up. Luxury hiking indeed. I had been warned that reaching the top involved many, many steps and this was no exaggeration. But they were much appreciated, as I don’t think I would have made it to the top without their help. The view from the summit was spectacular.

 

At low tide I became aware of the extensive mud flats at the head of the bay. I was closer than I had realized when dropping the anchor but it was well dug in and the weather was mild. I had a wonderful view of the birds foraging for food in the shallows. At one point I saw a pair of brown teal, three white faced herons, numerous oyster catchers, two caspian terns, a pied shag, some gannets, a sprinkling of bright kingfishers and the usual seagulls. There must have been plenty of life in that mud to have kept them all interested.

 

 

I needed a day of rest to recover from all that exertion and then moved on to Smokehouse Bay where I am now. The big attraction here is a fresh water supply and a wonderful bush laundromat complete with mangles. I really needed to get some washing done and it was fun using the old mangles. There is also a proper bath and a boiler where you can light a fire and heat the water. Maybe tomorrow..

Posted in Cruising, Great Barrier Island, New Zealand | 1 Comment »

Hatea River, Whangarei

Friday, July 17th, 2020

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Friday, 17th July 2020

It’s raining and dark clouds cover the sun. Speedwell is back in the water, anchored in the Hatea River a little way down from the boatyard.

 

 

After nearly four months on the hard, connected to shore power, I suddenly find myself dependent on solar panels to keep the ship’s batteries charged. I have one approximately 40 watt panel mounted above the stern which does the job happily on long sunny days, but at this time of the year in New Zealand, the days are short and not very sunny. To complicate matters, the boat swings with the tidal current and/or the wind which means that unless I keep a careful watch and manually adjust the angle of the panel to the sun it is often directed away from the energy-giving rays.

Annie and the informal JRA once more to the rescue. A stack of old panels resides in Annie’s boatshed and I was invited to take my pick. I couldn’t imagine where to mount either of the large, rigid ones but there were also two promising-looking flexible panels. After testing with a multimeter we found one that had an open circuit voltage of over 17V. Great! I hooked it up in parrallel to my existing one and voila! Of course, this is not a perfect world and now that I am seriously in need of the extra amps I have discovered that as the two panels are of very different efficiency, there is a need for bypass diodes in the circuit. Fortunately my little charge controller gives a clear indication of whether or not current is actually flowing in the direction of the battery and as soon as this stops, I jump up and disconnect the big flexible panel which is the culprit that is dragging down the voltage. Like magic the controller is happy again. My energy needs are very low so I’m content to put up with this less than ideal arrangement. Having the extra input when conditions allow, makes a big difference to the hours that I can indulge in using my laptop. I just have to be careful not to become mesmerised as I gaze bemusedly at the flashing led that indicates the charging status of the system. If all else fails, I can always resort to the brutal solution of running the engine to revitalize things.

 

 

The anchorage is very well protected from all wind directions and the muddy bottom provides good holding. A fact I was very grateful for two nights ago when a cold front passed through bringing heavy rain and gale force winds. It struck after dark, as these things do, and interrupted my dinner preparations. After being warned of other boats dragging, I hastily struggled into full foul-weather gear and ventured on deck to pay out another 20m of chain. The wind raged on but as there is no fetch in the river the water was relatively calm. I was able to finish my dinner (a rather good kumara, onion and garlic frittata) but spent a restless night keeping anchor watch. By morning enough rain had fallen to refill all my water tanks.

About a week before relaunching, while Speedwell was still cradled ashore a tornado swept through the boatyard creating some shocking devastation. I was very lucky and Speedwell was not directly in it’s path and was only a little roughly shaken but other boats were lifted or blown over with a lot of chaotic damage.

 

 

Annie was incredibly fortunate that her boat shed was spared. Another shed a few feet away was demolished. Annie describes it all very well in her blog.

My last few weeks in the boatyard were spent refurbishing the dinghy. It had been getting more and more difficult for me to lift it out of the water and stow it on deck. Either the dinghy was getting heavier or geriatric decrepitude was taking it’s toll. Not much I could do about the personal aging problem so I decided to try to lighten the dinghy by stripping off the multiple layers of paint that had accumulated over nearly 20 years. It was a messy job.

 

 

I carefully collected all the old paint scrapings in a bag and it weighed in at over 3kg by the time I was finished. Some had to be added back with a new coat of epoxy and paint, but the difference is very noticeable and I feel quite encouraged about my remaining lifting ability.

By the time launch-day arrived I had managed to tick off most of the items on my job list. A major achievement was being able to lower the mast, repaint it and check all the masthead fittings. We had been through some rough times and it was reassuring to see that all seemed well. I replaced the lazy jacks with new dyneema line which I covered with water hose to protect both lines and sail from chafe. I patched and restitched most of the sail and one fine day, Marcus arrived to help to raise the mast and settle it back in the tabernacle.

 

 

Now it was my job to reassemble the sail. I had smartened up the boom and yard with new paint and fendering and it was a pleasure to insert the shiny new aluminium battens. This was all done in the boat shed lean-to and then Annie and Gordon helped by transporting the sail bundle on the roof rack of Annie’s car to a convenient spot next to Speedwell from where I was able to winch it aboard and complete the rerigging exercise.

 

 

The launch proceeded smoothly with only one delay caused by an airlock in the new cooling water intake hose that I’d installed in the engine. David who was directing the proceedings, very ably fixed the problem and showed we what to do if it should ever happen again. Once floating, there was space for Speedwell to be warped around in the channel so that we could chug out to the river without having to manage an awkward reversing procedure. Many thanks to the Norsand Team!

Posted in Cruising, New Zealand | 3 Comments »

Life Locked Down on the Hard

Saturday, May 2nd, 2020

29th April 2020

Yesterday New Zealand relaxed into a level 3 lockdown and the boatyard has come alive once more. After 5 weeks of ghostly quiet, with the birds becoming bolder and bolder, the gates have been unchained and the workers are back on the job, albeit keeping the mandatory 2m social distance. Not always easy.

Speedwell is secured in a cradle at the edge of the slipway which gives me a good view of the water and the boats being hauled out or relaunched. There had been no movement during the level 4 stage of our lockdown, but now the slipway is open again and I have something to watch while I sit in the cockpit having a coffee break.

 

 

It has been a fairly productive month. I find it much easier to get things done in the cooler weather without being plagued by my glasses fogging up and sweat running into my eyes as I battle to reach into unreachable spaces with a screwdriver or spanner.

The first job was to sand down the underwater part of the hull to get rid of all the flaky old antifouling paint. I had invested in a battery powered orbital sander and a bargain-priced vacuum cleaner which could be attached to it so that no noxious, toxic dust could make it’s way into the atmosphere. The system worked well but the vacuum cleaner wasn’t quite up to the heavy industrial-type demand. It needed some coaxing to keep it going till the job was done, after which it quietly expired.

 

 

The mast had been lowered with help from Julie just before the gates closed which has meant that I’ve been able to properly repair the chafed patches caused by the parrels rubbing against the corners. When I set up the rigging this time I’m going to try using webbing at the mast which might help to prevent this happening again. It might also overcome the problem of the parrels jamming up on themselves as the sail is raised. We shall see.

Annie has been a wonderful help, generously giving me access to her impressive collection of tools. We share a ‘bubble’ so are allowed to visit each other and many a convivial evening has been spent discussing world affairs over the odd glass of rum. Sometimes, for a treat, we sit in the exquisite interior of her almost-finished boat, Fanshi, two crazy old bats sipping bubbly from crystal glasses.

 

 

I spent about a week repairing and patching my hard-working sail using her heavy-duty sewing machine. All the webbing loops for attaching the sail to the battens were looking very thread bare and have been replaced. Now all looks good for the next 10,000 nm providing, of course, that we will ever be allowed to freely roam the seas again. The day before the lockdown began I was able to take delivery of five lengths of 50mm o.d. aluminium tubing to be made into a new set of battens for the sail. The old ones were 35mm and I have been told by those who should know, that there will be no need to reinforce the new ones with glass and epoxy. It certainly makes things easier.

 

 

The weather has been turning wintry with some cold, wet and windy days. Time for inside jobs. The electrical wiring on Speedwell had become a bit of a rats nest over the years with rather too many unidentifiable loose ends and dodgy connections. It seemed like a good time to tackle the problem. Annie to the rescue again with the loan of her professional-grade wire crimper for replacing the connectors, along with a kind donation of heat shrink insulation from one of the other boatyard inmates, making the job relatively easy. Some nightmarish bits of almost chafed-through wire were discovered and replaced, redundant wires removed, all corroded connectors renewed and every single wire labelled. I felt quite proud. I’m even thinking about drawing up a wiring diagram.

 

 

The engine came next. I thought that all it really needed was a bit of a clean-up. Maybe a wipe down with an oily rag, as I’ve been told one should do on a regular basis. I set to with a will. Hmm.. there seemed to be quite a lot of water in the bilge. Surely I had dried it all out just the other day? Oh, dear. The culprit was a steady drip coming from the raw water intake pump allowing all the old water still in the system to find it’s way into the bilge. So, the pump was removed, not without difficulty, and to my great relief I was put in touch with an engineer who has done a great job of repairing it. How different to the agonisingly difficult time I had trying to get the same thing done in Annapolis a few years ago.

 

 

In these quite extraordinary times, I count myself very lucky to have landed up in one of the safest places I could hope for.

Posted in Cruising, New Zealand | 5 Comments »

Down the coast to a Whangarei lockdown

Thursday, March 26th, 2020

26th March 2020

I left the Bay of Islands in mid-January and made a leisurely passage to Whangarei with some interesting stops along the way.

 

 

A very slow start in light winds saw me making my first anchorage of the voyage at Deep Water Cove, a mere 10 miles from my starting point and the last possible anchorage before leaving the Bay of Islands area. The cove lives up to its name and I had to approach far closer to the rocky shore than I would normally choose to do, but the weather was settled and I felt it safe enough. One reason for choosing to stop here was that there is a small rocky beach from which a path gives access to the Cape Brett Trail. The full trail takes a day each way with an overnight stop in a hut at the point, but from Deep Water Cove its possible to do a round trip to the light house and back in less than a day.

 

 

I set off early and the trail was quite hard-going but spectacular. Some stretches of the path were along a narrow ridge with vertiginous drops either side. The anchorage was well sheltered from the west wind that was blowing and I only realized how strong it was when I was exposed to it on the ridge. I was almost tempted to drop to all-fours, but carried on bravely vertical.

 

The lighthouse is situated high up on the ridge, but the hut is back down at the waters edge. Of course I had to get down there, and found a table to sit at and enjoy my sandwich for lunch. I didn’t want to spend too long relaxing as I was a little anxious about the safety of Speedwell in the rocky cove. A long slog back up to the top and soon enough I was safely back on board. Pretty tired after a really great walk.

 

 

Next day it was an interesting sail around Cape Brett and I got to see the lighthouse and Piercy Island from a sea-level perspective. Tourist boats were taking sight-seers through the hole in the island.

 

 

The wind was light and fluky so I decided to stop at the nearby Whangamumu harbour where there is an old whaling station and access to some other good walks. My shoes had rather fallen apart on the hard Cape Brett trail and I spent a while stitching the uppers back to the soles with my handy-stitcher, an invaluable tool.

 

 

The next day I had another good walk (wearing my repaired shoes) to Te Toroa Bay. It was also quite tough with many steep ups and downs. I found a good stick along the way which helped to stabilize me on the steep parts. When the trail reached Te Toroa I was delighted to find a small beach with a tidal pool. There was no one around and I had a quick refreshing skinny dip. Big waves were crashing on the rocks nearby. Quite a dramatic place.

 

 

I spent another day or two at Whangamumu enjoying the calm, clear water and doing some more exploring. The waterfall where I had hoped to get some fresh water for the boat had practically dried up as there hadn’t been any rain for some time. Linda and Bryan on Fantail were also there and we had a good walk together to Tangatapu with lunch on Fantail afterwards.

When I eventually left, I had a really good sail down the coast with a NE wind giving the junk sail a chance to do what it does best. I reached the entrance to the recommended anchorage at Whangaruru about lunchtime, but decided to carry on to Tutukaka as we were doing so well. The entrance to Tutukaka was quite narrow with waves crashing on rocks either side. I would have loved to take some photos but was fully occupied in just getting safely through.

The spot that I chose to anchor in when I first arrived started to seem alarmingly shallow as the tide began to fall and, unsure of what the bottom might be like, I prudently moved to a deeper place while it was still possible.

Next morning I left early at slack water and motored most of the way to the entrance to Whangarei. The wind I had hoped for never materialized, but I enjoyed watching enormous flocks of seabirds (prions, petrels, shearwaters) sitting on the water, comfortably riding the swells. They seemed unsure of us as we approached and would take off at the last moment and land again a short, what they considered safe, distance away.

 

 

I was able to reach the entrance to the bay at Whangarei with the tide in our favour and had a fast trip up to Parua Bay where I anchored in the Nook for the night. A lovely peaceful spot. The next day I waited until 14:30 for the tide to start coming in and had an easy trip up to the anchorage off Norsand Boatyard. Fairly shallow but a soft muddy bottom so not too much of a problem if we touched.

Once I was settled in I contacted Annie Hill who is building herself a boat at the yard. She kindly invited me over to join her for dinner at her boat-shed. Annie’s boatbuilding deserves a separate post and you should have a look at her blog. She has been wonderfully helpful in showing me arround and providing transport for serious shopping trips.

 

 

I spent a few weeks anchored in the rather muddy waters of the Hatea River having to plan my trips ashore very carefully. There is a strong tidal current with a nearly 3m tidal range. The bottom is very soft mud and walking and dragging the dinghy through the mud at low tide was not a good option. Timing was of the essence.

 

 

I had planned to haul Speedwell out of the water at the beginning of May and fly to the UK for a few months to be able to extend my visitors visa, but now the coronavirus has made that impossible and I find myself ‘locked down’ aboard on the hard at Norsand Boatyard. No excuses now not to get really stuck in to all those long-outstanding boat jobs. A pity that all the hardware shops and chandleries will be closed, but I did manage to get a just-in-time delivery of 5 new aluminium battens. So, on we go.

Posted in Cruising, New Zealand, South Pacific | No Comments »

Bay of Islands

Sunday, January 12th, 2020

January, 2020

Soon after arriving I found a nicely sheltered anchorage within reasonable rowing distance of the small town of Russell. The Russell Boating Club generously allows visiting dinghies to tie to their dock from where it is a short walk to the centre of town. It was quite a culture shock to suddenly find myself in a first-world tourist town. Nothing ramshackle here. Proper pedestrian pavements, no feral pigs and dogs. Real supermarkets. I restocked with as much as I could carry back to the dinghy and picked up some information about walks in the area. After a few weeks at sea I was keen to get some exercise.

 

 

There is a great variety of well-maintained footpaths to choose from. My first short walk was a path leading up from a nearby beach to the road. Not very exciting you may think, but it was quite magnificent. My first taste of the wonderful tree ferns that seem to be everywhere. Also my first sighting of the delightful fantail bird. It was steep and I was aware of how unfit I had become. I made an instant decision to make these walks a regular thing.

 

 

A more ambitious walk, the ‘Bay of Islands Coastal Walkway’ took more than the advertised 5 hours to complete. Starting from the ferry dock at Russell for the crossing to the bigger town of Pahia on the opposite shore. The path follows very close to the water’s edge and unfortunately I hadn’t done my homework and the state of the tide put the path underwater. But the overland alternative was interesting enough and soon rejoined the coastal trail. The Pahia beachfront was busy with holiday-makers but I seemed to be the only one doing the walk.

 

 

There were beautiful views across the bay, although, what I really enjoyed the most was when the trail entered deeply wooded areas. Usually with steep ups and downs. The dense tree-ferns creating a wonderful green lacy groin vault cathedral ceiling. Birdsong was everywhere, but I found it very difficult to spot them in the dense greenery. I was thrilled to see my first tui, which is a fairly big honey-eater, easily identified by two white tufts of feathers under its chin. They are wonderful songbirds and create an amazing variety of sounds. The one that I kept hearing, before eventually spotting, it made a loud screeching double-squawk followed by two most beautifully liquid notes.

 

 

Once clear of the trees the path came out at the head of a shallow bay and I could see Speedwell anchored not all that far off. A long boardwalk takes you over the muddy mangrove swamps. At low tide the mud seems to stretch for miles and the farmed oyster beds are exposed. If you stop for a while mud crabs emerge cautiously from their holes.

By the time I arrived back at my starting point, which was the dinghy dock at the boat club, I was pretty tired, hot and thirsty. Luckily for me it was a Friday, one of the 3 days of the week that the club bar is open. That icy cold beer was wonderful. After a 17km walk I felt I’d earned it.

 

 

Of course, I have also found myself in one of the most beautiful sailing grounds one could possibly hope for. At first I was quite content to stay comfortably anchored and just relax after the long passage from Tonga, but soon enough I felt compelled to see what lay around the corner. I started sailing about, exploring a few of the other anchorages, always with a possible shoreside walk in mind. Distances between the various small islands and bays are short making it possible to easily move to better protection if the wind should suddenly change.

 

 

There were plenty of other boats around enjoying the holidays but it always seemed possible to find a less crowded spot to anchor. I really enjoyed a walk on Moturua Island which is very popular. It was another fairly long trail all the way around the island with plenty of ups and downs. Magical views as you come down to the coast every now and then to find an exquisite small bay with sandy beach. On one of the beaches, quite a long one, I stopped to watch a big black oystercatcher making its way along the waterline, foraging in the sand with its strong red beak. It was steadily approaching me. I kept still, wondering how close it would get before it saw me and flew away. I was charmed to realize that it had me in sight all along and as it reached a point about 10m away, it kept a beady eye on me while circling to seaward, still walking, keeping exactly the same distance away until it felt it had safely passed, and then continuing along in its normal way. How considerate! How polite! I followed its example and continued on my way.

 

 

On Saturday I was lucky enough to be given a place on Gordon Gregg’s ‘Tystie’ which was taking part in the annual Tall Ships Regatta, a major Bay of Islands event. I was a little disappointed to see that there were no actual tall ships taking part, but something like 10 junks were there and it was a very colourful event. I refrained from entering Speedwell as I have no experience of racing and, with no third-party insurance, the thought of jockeying for position at the start or tight manoevering round the buoys frightened me more than any ocean crossing.

 

Posted in Cruising, New Zealand, South Pacific | 3 Comments »

On to New Zealand

Thursday, November 21st, 2019

Vava’u, Tonga

31 October 2019

I was ready to go. A bad chest cold that had been bothering me had cleared up, but now a strong southerly wind was blowing, not ideal. I decided to wait another day and went for a last walk on the wild and windy side of the Island. Sheri came round in the evening with a bag of surprises to be opened at sea. What a lovely thought.

Friday, 1 November 2019

The forecast was too good to miss so I decided to leave despite the fact that it is Friday, normally considered a taboo day for starting a voyage. The dateline takes an artificial kink around Tonga, so I felt justified in putting superstition aside.

 

 

A slightly slow start with not enough wind to sail off the mooring had me motoring for a short while. The engine didn’t sound too happy and died after a few minutes, but we were underway at last and I decided to keep going. I suspected that the problem was just due to an airbubble caused by a recent filter change. We had a lovely sail down through the maze of little islands and soon enough we were in the open sea. I started to feel a little queasy. I had spent too long in flat, protected water.

By the evening I was feeling better and we were sailing smoothly along with 2 reefs in the sail doing a comfortable 4 knots. I had a sundowner beer followed by a some lentils and rice for dinner.

The restored Navik wind-vane was working well with a bit of help from the famous green bungee to compensate for weather helm. I was very glad that I had moved the table over to the port side so that I could use the starboard bunk. With the wind from the east It looks like we could be spending a lot of time on a port tack. I unearthed a derelict old cell phone which has a good loud alarm and used it to wake me every twenty minutes.

At about 2am I spotted the lights of a ship about 2 or 3 miles off, heading north. No AIS warning. We passed safely.

2 November 2019

A reasonably comfortable night, sleeping well between the 20 minute wake-ups.

 

 

In the morning the volcanic island of Kao rose steeply out of the haze ahead. Quite a surprise. We passed safely about 5 miles off. In the evening, Tofua, its flatter sister was still in sight to port. The wind had dropped a little so I was using the full sail. Before dark I dropped one panel.

3 November 2019

Wind a lot stronger and heading us. I hastily reefed down to 3 panels. Now the area of volcanic activity which I was hoping to pass east of lay directly in our path. I eased off on the sheets to pass more comfortably to the west. The sea now very rough and we were just plugging along at 1 to 2 knots, but laying a reasonable course. I had been reading about volcanic islands suddenly erupting about here and was anxious to get clear of the area. The sea seemed very bumpy. Maybe something was brewing down in the depths. No choice but to carry on.

4th November 2019

The day started out with a squall. Grey skies, wind up and down. After lunch the sun came out. Things always look better when the sky and sea are blue.

5pm and 1000 miles to go.

5 November 2019

A big ship passed one mile off during the night. I first spotted a faint glimmer of lights on the horizon. A struggle to see with the binoculars. Switched on the AIS and waited for it to get a GPS signal. Still nothing. Now I can definitely see its a ship and coming our way. Get out the hand held compass and take a bearing. Ahh..the AIS has woken up at last, loud alarm to warn that the closest point of approach will be 1.5 miles. A bit close for comfort but safe enough. I sat out in the moonlit cockpit and waited for it to pass. Then back to my bunk after first checking that the battery had plenty of life and deciding to leave the AIS on.

6 November 2019

After an easy night with a beautiful half moon and no more ships we had an idyllic day on a smooth sea doing a steady 4 knots, wind just abaft the beam.

7 November 2019

Wind really picked up this morning from the NE. Now racing along under just 2 panels.

8 November 2019

Fast sailing all night. We’re out of the tropics now and it’s starting to get chilly. The Navik still performing perfectly. What a relief.

 

 

I noticed that one of the lashings at the end of a lower reefed batten had come adrift. Hove-to to fix it. Must have happened when the top sheet span got caught under the reefed bundle.

Moving fast.
Noon position showed our best days run so far. Just over 100 nm.

Later down to the top panel only. A bit less wild.

9 November, 2019

Wind still F6. Making good progress but not very comfortable. Crossed the 180 meridian so now we are East instead of West.

The wind picked up to F7 later with scary streaks of foam on the water and rather big waves. I decided to gybe and head more to the west where the weather fax indicated better conditions.

Just before dark I hove-to as it was getting really rough. Too much water on deck and in the cockpit. The odd one reaching the chart table. Massive waves.

After about 2 hours of drifting northwards I packed it in, decided it wasn’t really all that bad and started sailing again.
10 November, 2019

Made it through the night. Still on a WSW course. A bit of rain this morning and sun occasionally breaking through.

No dolphins, flying fish or birds. A lonely sea.

11 November, 2019

Working slowly to windward.

 

 

A bit of a rainy patch this morning but now lovely sunshine. I had been taking a lot of care not to let myself get wet when going outside, always putting on a waterproof jacket and taking off my long pants. As the sun came out, I became careless and of course, one of those little rogue waves leapt into the cockpit just as I was adjusting the Navik and soaked my warm jersey. I had to scratch around to find something else warm to wear.

Saw an albatross.

12 November 2019

Still very windy and rough this morning. During the night the Navik vane got blown about 30 deg out of alignment which set us rather off course. Too far east. Not good. Well, that’s another thing I must remember to check hourly. Now back on track but what a waste.

13 November 2019

Spent many hours in the cockpit last night trying to get the sail working properly on the port tack. Adjustment of the sheet seems critical when close-hauled. The wind had gone light and the sea was still lumpy which didn’t help. It was pleasant enough, with a nearly full moon. I had put on my heavy duty off shore gear to keep warm. No more bare arse and light jacket. The duvet is on the bunk and it still feels chilly at night. You know you’ve left the tropics when the coconut oil solidifies.

We eventually settled on a reasonably steady course, jogging along at about 2 knots, clawing our way westward.

This morning I noticed that the parrel on the second batten from the top had almost completely chafed through. All those days of running downwind, deeply reefed. I found a suitable length of line to replace it, hove-to and we were soon on our way again. A beautiful day. I made some sweetcorn fritters for breakfast as the muesli and fruit juice was becoming boring.

A pair of Kermadec petrels came over to check us out. Yesterday I spotted an albatross. Too far off for exact identification but thrilling to see.

After the noon position-taking ritual I tacked to work back to the rhumb line. Exceedingly slow and frustrating. The sail definitely works better on the port tack, but we were heading too far east and something had to be done. We hung in there, determinedly. Reading Pratchett.

14 November 2019

We had been going along quite nicely and things were looking up. I was getting a few hours sleep, when I was rudely awoken by bumpy seas and loud thunder. OK, a cold front had been shown on the weather fax. This must be it. I lowered a panel, although the wind didn’t seem very strong. Heavy rain. As the squall passed, the wind direction changed and now was heading us again. End of comfortable progress. I tried for the best possible course and went back to bed till morning.

15 November 2019

When the sun came up the wind had died completely. Time to get the engine going. What a pain. It ran for about 20 minutes and then totally died. Oh dear. Not too difficult to check things out on a nice flat sea and it seemed that the problem must be fuel starvation. Something wrong with that filter I’d put on before leaving. Luckily I had another spare and it was easily installed. We were on our way again.

 

 

I dressed up warmly and sat in the cockpit hand steering. Slow progress. With much careful adjustment of bungees, engine revs, chain position on tiller and angle of wind vane, I managed to get the Navik to hold us reasonably well on track. Not good enough to just leave and go below, but no longer necessary to have a hand constantly on the tiller. Progress indeed.

I missed the 1pm weather fax but then noticed fine high cirrus in the sky, which doesn’t normally bode well. I managed to pick up a clear chart at 3pm which gives the 72hour forecast. No storms looming. No wind either. Big high pressure system. It would be a doddle if the electric autopilot was working and I had a few more litres of diesel.

Some beautiful petrels soared and skimmed nearby. Maybe our wake kicks up little edible creatures.

Switched off the engine at midnight to get a few hours sleep.

16 November, 2019

 

 

Sea flat calm. Not a breath of wind which means the Navik is no use at all, but the bungee is coping well enough to hold us on course with the engine running.

It was warm and sunny and I grabbed the opportunity to have a rather overdue shower in the cockpit using the garden sprayer. Feels good to be clean and fresh again.

17 November 2019

A really good day. After a decent night’s sleep I woke to find there was enough wind to really start sailing again. A smooth 1-2 knots and as the wind gradually freshened the Navik was able to take over the steering. What bliss after 26 hours of noisy motoring.

And then a pack of about 30 dolphins appeared on the scene, circling and making multiple passes. I did my usual demented singing thing which they seem to appreciate. Before leaving, a big one surfaced right near the boat and gave me a friendly, if slightly curious, look in the eye.

The weather is sunny and warm and I can sit in the cockpit without getting drenched by every passing wave. Only 140 miles to go now, and the 48hr forecast looks fair.

18 November, 2019

The wind picked up quite strongly overnight and I had to reef to 3 panels. Now moving at 4-5 knots on a steady course.

By noon we had covered just over 100 miles. Amazing. It started to look as though the end was in sight.

It had become quite hazy with visibility limited to about 1 mile. During the day I don’t have the AIS on as I spend a lot of time looking out, but because we were almost there, I was busy filling in the multitude of forms needed to clear in and hadn’t had a look out for some time. When I belatedly stuck my head out a massive container ship was just looming out of the murk. Far too close for comfort and on an obvious collision course. As they say, ‘the show ain’t over till…’ I quickly switched on the AIS to get an accurate assessment and tried calling them on the radio. But couldn’t waste too much time as it was obvious that I would have to get out of the way, and smartly. With the sail far out and deeply reefed, I was worried about gybing and causing a fan-up. But I would have to turn more downwind to pass safely. My luck held and although we were forced to sail by the lee the sail stayed firmly in place. What a wonderful rig. The ship passed with half a mile to spare and we were soon back on course again.

Just before dark a black squall loomed over us. Thunder and lightning. Wind going crazy. When it settled down about 2 hours later, the best course I could manage was hard on the wind and about 20deg W of the course. Still nearly 40 miles to go. Looks like we wont get there today.

19th November, 2019

The wind held steady all night and we made slow progress. I managed to get a few hours sleep in 20 minute snatches. At about 5am it was just light enough to see ahead and to my amazement the land was visible. Still about 8 miles off but the timing was good as now we were reasonably sure of arriving in daylight. I managed to light the primus and made a mug of coffee.

 

 

Then the wind dropped again and I was able to shake out all those reefs and soon decided that the engine would be a good idea. As the day brightened, a welcoming committee of three dolphins and two gannets came to greet us. Just perfect. A big catamaran approached from astern and soon passed us. Also on the way in. A bit later there was another mega yacht motor sailing past.

The land was still a grey silhouette on the horizon, but as we got closer colours started to fill in. A very interesting scattering of rocky islands.

Soon enough I was in the thick of ferries, small sailing boats, a para-sailor, a plethora of small motor boats out fishing. It was a struggle to stay awake and keep my wits about me. I was delighted by a flotilla of small penguins who hurried to get underwater and swim rapidly away as we approached. At last, there was the customs dock at Opua. I managed to tie up alongside and the officials took over. The bottom of the hull was checked for marine growth by using a video camera on a long stick. I held my breath, worried that they might find the odd determined barnacle, but we passed the test. Passport stamped, contents of lockers inspected and we were free to go. Whew.

 

 

I moved around to a quiet little anchorage for the night and cracked the bottle of bubbly.

 

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