About this Blog

........................ To navigate the site.

...... .............Use the Blog Archive (below right)

...or.click the appropriate link at the bottom of the page.

...........................

......................

Monday 28 April 2014

New Zealand 2

For the sake of completeness I will recap a little.

We sailed from New Caledonia on the last day of October, 2013. It was a classic ten day passage for this part of the world. We steered a course for a point some way to the west of Norfolk Island, the passage plan being to escape the trade winds. Some miles off Norfolk Island, and bang on time, a low from the Tasman Sea stirred things up a bit. As the front came through, for a short while the sailing became rather lively. But once the front had passed, things calmed down and we were able to steer our course to New Zealand.


A welcome dawn on passage.

We arrived in Opua at dusk on the 9th of November. Then tied up to the quarantine berth, and went to bed. We had called the customs people by radio earlier in the day, so we knew we wouldn’t be disturbed until 9 o’clock in the morning. How civilised.


Opua marina provided an opportunity to relax a bit, catch up with other sailing friends, and spend lots of money. Willis Sails helped us out here by making us a new Main sail and Spinnaker. So now we have a complete set of cruising sails from this fine sail maker. 

Other large investments were an ipad and an AIS transponder. The former you will know better than me. The latter is a wonderful piece of electronics that gives the position, course, speed and closest point of approach of ships in a 60 mile radius. It also tells them the same information about us. It should greatly assist the lookout on watch, with the task of collision avoidance. 



Rangihoa. Pohutukawa. Bay of Islands.

We spent December visiting old haunts in the Bay of Island and exploring the Cavalli islands, a little further north. We found the Cavallis to be even better than the Bay of Islands. Much more remote, lots of interesting navigation, and plenty of sheltered anchorages.


Whangaroa in the Cavallis was noteworthy not just for the complete protection it provides from any wind, but because of its narrow and hard to find entrance. As we approached the sheer cliffs dead ahead, we stared through the binoculars but could see nothing!  I rushed down below to re check the chart and the GPS. Then, all of a sudden, there it was, no problem!  But I wouldn’t want to enter in a gale. 

Our reward for braving the entrance (easy on subsequent visits) was a perfectly sheltered anchorage with good holding off Milford Island.


Mahinepua Bay. Whangaroa. Cavalli Islands.

Mahinepua Bay is yet another very attractive anchorage and had the bonus of providing a very pleasant walk.

After doing a little more exploring, we returned to Whangaroa to take up local residents Richard and Joy’s offer, of driving us to Opua to attend an Ocean Cruising Club party. We expected the lift, but were also treated to an unexpected hot shower, and lunch in their delightful house. How kind.

The party itself was hosted by Nina and Tony Kiff.  As one would expect it was packed with fellow matelots and a grand time was had by all. What we couldn’t possibly have expected, was to meet Roger and Frances Robinson. 
As well as having sailed with Tillman, Roger had sailed in Sula!!!  Then named Slooper of Armoy, with her previous owner Jeremy Knox.

Another port of call was Mangonui Harbour. It proved to be a fine harbour and pleasant village. We bought provisions including beer, rum and whisky (Glenmorangie) at the bottle store. And grub from the supermarket. However we decided against fish and chips, even from the reputed “World famous fish and chip shop”.

Brodie’s Creek.

Brodie’s Creek was the northern limit of our cruise. From there we worked our way back to Opua, calling in at a few anchorages we had missed out on our way north.

The fine islands of Hamaruri and Panaki are very close to the site where the Rainbow Warrior has been laid to rest. 

Older readers will remember that she was sunk in Auckland harbour in the mid-eighties. Two limpet mines were placed on her hull by French Secret Service agents, as she was preparing to sail for the Tuamotu Islands, to protest about the French nuclear bomb testing. 

Hamaruri Island

As January approached it was time to be heading off once again for Whangarei, our stepping off place to the South Island. As well as having a good boat yard and an airport, it also had a number of convenient hill walks. And we desperately needed to do something about our atrophied walking muscles.

On one of our walks we were joined by Clive and Stephanie. Stephanie being a cousin of Jane Ball, a good friend of ours from Yelverton in Devon. We had an enjoyable time with them, and I was able to swap old navy yarns with Clive, who had also served in the Royal Navy. Though he rose rather higher than my ‘Captain of the Heads’.




Bream Head (on another occasion).

Our old and faithful dinghy had a heart attack. One of it’s valves was playing up, and while Pippa was trying to fix it, an essential part blew out and went for a one way swim. She saw it describe a perfect arc over the guard rail, make a small splash, and sink without trace.

Stop Press.
A repair kit was flown out to us and we have affected a repair.


The 21st of January 2014, saw us at the Norsand jetty in Whangarei, awaiting our haul out. The forecast was for force 8 or 9 winds! However, in the morning only a moderate breeze was blowing. We were due to wait until another yacht was launched. But sensibly, the owner decided to stay put.

I got a phone call from the yard manager inviting me to move alongside his jetty asap before the wind got up. I was only too glad to oblige. In due course Sula was put in a cradle, hauled out of the water and parked in a sheltered part of the boat yard.  It was time to go Tramping.


“Let’s just take a line to that post”

0615 on Saturday 1st February 2014.

Our taxi arrived only a few minutes late and ferried us to Whangarei airport.

A toy like 19 seat aeroplane awaited us on the runway. It had real propellers! There was an aisle, but with only one passenger on each side, and ten seats deep. The missing seat was to allow room for the door. The pilot, who hadn’t got a door to his cockpit, was a real grown up. They must have shoe horned him into his seat. The steward doubled as the co-pilot, or perhaps it was the other way round. Nevertheless we were conveyed in comfort during the one hour flight to Auckland.

Once there we had to dash to the check in for the connecting flight to Wellington. Then we had time to stroll round the waterfront, looking at all sorts of things you might expect to see at an historical harbour. And jolly nice it was too.

The penultimate leg of our journey was aboard the Blue Bridge ferry, which took us to Picton in the Queen Charlotte Sound. Picking up our pre booked hire car was a breeze, and we were soon ensconced in a cabin at Smith’s Farm Campsite.

Our efforts to arrive at some sort of walking fitness in Whangarei paid off, and we were soon doing respectable, if easy tramps. Not walks. Not hikes. Not rambles you understand, but Tramps. We were, after all, in New Zealand now.
Wikipedia describes tramping thus:-

 …recreational activity involving walking over rough country carrying all the required food and equipment, for trips of at least one overnight stay in the backcountry.

We decided to avoid the Great Walks. They are overcrowded and normally have to be booked in advance, The huts are much more expensive. And the tracks themselves are over- groomed. 

On an early coastal walk we came across Cable Bay. The starting point of a successful underwater telegraphic cable laying project, to Sydney Australia, in 1876.  I’ve just checked with the chart, and that’s a minimum distance of 1,150 nautical miles. Quite some feat of engineering. 


Not Onamlutu, but another lovely campsite.


We enjoyed the Department of Conservation campsite  at Onamlutu for just $6 per night, a camping ground with an immaculately mown lawn, surrounded by trees. We were serenaded by a huge orchestra of cicadas and various birds, all singing their heads off; quite wonderful.

The first real mountain we climbed was Mt Patriarch. We had been staying at the Lake Chalice DOC hut, after doing a steep tramp, through dense woodland that eventually led to a minor peak known as the Old Man.



Lake Chalice Hut.


The following day we rose early and set out to climb Mt Patriarch. 
We drove to the end of a dirt road. And from there we were treated to a long and hot walk. Some excellent scrambling was encountered halfway along a ridge, with a fair amount of exposure that focused our minds wonderfully. It was certainly no place to slip. We were even provided with some quite tricky route finding in places. The Old Man and Mt Patriarch had us itching for bigger and better things.

By now we had learned that many tramps mentioned in our guide book, didn’t go to the summits at all. They are old Maori trading routes, or perhaps hunting paths that provided multi day tramps, without ever getting above the bush line.


Another tramping feature we came across is the use of river beds. It is quite common in these parts to have to ford an ice cold river, or even follow one up or down stream for some miles. Heavy rain could, and does, cause rivers to rise to a dangerous level, leaving one with no option but to walk back to a hut, or bivouac until conditions improve. We took care to avoid such tramps if possible. 

It got deeper and colder with every step!


Despite what I have just said about river crossings, Mt Armstrong provided us with a grand day (or two) out. We waded across the Haast River below the Fan Tail falls. It really hurt. How can water that cold remain a liquid? 

We were rewarded with a pleasant three hour walk to the excellent Brewster Hut. The following morning we left early and quietly to avoid disturbing the other  occupants. An enjoyable scramble past many bluffs led us in an hour or two to the fabulous summit. We relished the 360° panorama of the mountains, and especially fine views of the snow-capped Mt Brewster.

Mt. Brewster.

The first three days in March were spent in the excellent company of Steve and Lynne Brodie in their house in Frankton, near Queenstown. Steve was enjoying his rest days from guiding on the Milford Track (a Great Walk.) He and I had in the past worked together, at the Prince’s Trust Activity centre.

We took the advice of a local tramper we met in a DOC hut. He thought the Green Lake was a stunningly beautiful place. The walk sounded pleasant enough so we went to have a look. 

It had snowed the day before we arrived and poor weather was forecast. So we thought it best to get a move on. I’m so glad we did. It was a smashing walk. The upper reaches of Eldrig Peak were covered in new snow, as were all the high points we could see. The climb was easy enough but we needed to take care in the prevailing conditions. The decent was a tad tricky, and quite honestly I don’t think I chose the best line. So we tottered down the steep snow covered slopes of our mountain with great care.




Eldrig Peak.


Green Lake

It was mandatory of course for us to visit Milford Sound, but we chose a bad day for the visit. The mist was low and we only caught the odd glimpse of the high mountains. What we did see though would have made the ancient Maoris weep.

They thought the sound to be the most beautiful place on earth. So beautiful in fact that Hine Nui Te Po, the god of death, had invented Namu. The vicious biting Sandfly (midge) to deter people from staying too long.

What we saw though, was a huge booking office and car park, dozens of camper vans and many tourist coaches. On the water were several large tripper boats. Is nothing sacred? Apparently not, Mammon rules. 



Milford Sound 1




Milford Sound 2

All was not lost however. We later tramped our way to the Gertrude Saddle and scrambled up perfect gabbro rock on the Barrier Knob. The tramp was good enough in its own right, but we were further rewarded with stunning views of Milford Sound and Mitre Peak. Sans tourist industry.


Piopiotahi (Milford sound). Ahh that’s better.

One of our favourite tramps was Mt. Arthur via Gordon’s Pyramid. We set off from the Salisbury Lodge, delightfully set in grassland with fine views of the surrounding hills. A steep climb with some scrambling led to Gordon’s Pyramid.

There followed a pleasant walk to join the Mt Arthur track. Then things became less clear. ”It must go over there”. “But that’s much too far away”.     ”But that way’s much too steep”. 

In the end things sorted themselves out. A good and well marked trail,led up and over, then sidled round and across the most unlikely limestone terrain. I certainly took my hat off to the original path finders. It was a magnificent piece of route finding. For them that is. Not us. We just followed the track and marker poles!


Gordon’s Pyramid.



Mt Arthur. The summit ridge.

Soon afterwards our tramping holiday was over. The New Zealand mountains are magnificent. It took us a while to get into the swing of things, but once we did it all clicked together.

We couldn’t climb the highest mountains because of:- Our lack of mountain fitness. Lack of alpine equipment and bad weather. Nevertheless we had a wonderful time.

Our return to Whangarei was easy and entertaining, first on board the ferry and then the small aeroplane, which took us to within a short taxi drive of Norsand Boatyard and Sula. 

Back on board, the jobs list was waiting for us. We have been hard at work since then, getting Sula ready for another ocean passage.

We are due to launch on Tuesday the 29th of April. Then we sail, as the weather allows, to Opua. This will be our shakedown cruise. Once back in the Bay of Islands, we will be studying the weather forecasts. And waiting for the optimum time to depart, on the two week (ish) passage to Bundaberg, Australia.

To be honest I’m a little worried about Australia. It seems that all the wildlife is out to get you. Pippa found a reference to poisonous beasties. It seems that out of the ten most venomous snakes in the world, Australia has ten of them!

Well that’s it really. I could have bashed on lyrically for hours, about this wonderful island. But I just don’t have the time. Perhaps I need a holiday!
I’m quite sure that had I come to New Zealand twenty or more years ago, I would have stayed. They won’t have me now. I’m too old and not rich enough. Not that I’m complaining though. I do miss my friends and family, and of course my hole in the river bank.

To conclude, here a few more pretty pictures. In no particular order:-





The Brewster hut.



Oh what fun! Stuffing box maintenance in Whangarei.




 No Worries.


The Moeraki Bolders. Near Otago.


Moeraki Bolders 2.



From near the Bush Line hut.



Able Tasman National park



Honeydew and Lichens on NZ Beech trees.



The view from the loo at the Ces Clarke hut.