Lyttleton Harbour, Te Ana Marina
Saturday 15 February 2020
The day began with the mist still hanging around the upper peaks of the surrounding hills; but with the promise of clearing skies sometime through the day. That said, a rainbow could be seen in the low, grey clouds to our west, as the yellow rays of sun woke the day. But this would soon pass.
Around this time a smallish cruise liner with a dark coloured hull, backed into the berth off the township. Soon after, an enormous cruise liner could be seen in the distance advancing up the bay and the thought occurred to me … “they’ll be anchoring out there in the harbour and shuttling people to and fro”. Not so. Having forgotten about it, I was busy having breakfast 30 minutes later and looked out to see this enormous wall of white windows, portholes and perspex drift past our starboard windows into a berth almost next to us. It was quite a sight and an exhibition of precision manoeuvring on the part of the two tugs in attendance and the dudes on the bridge of this behemoth.
With a couple of days in port, we were keen to pack in as much shore-based activities as possible and so John, who had departed to his Christchurch home (and wife, Maryke) for a few days, would be returning late morning with a “spare” car for us to use in seeing some of the local sights.
But first there was the local Lyttleton Saturday Market to enjoy, as we mixed it with passengers off the two cruise ships.
The market itself was what you might call earthy, authentic and grassroots, with an eclectic mix of artisan food vendors, crafts people, entertainers and miscellaneous extras … all arranged either side of the blocked off main street.
In some respects, the market gave hints of a 1970s cheese-cloth, ty-dye, macramé past, (only with a lot more face and body metal and tattoos) … that you might have thought was long past, but not so. Think Ninbin, Woodstock and Brunswick St Melbourne, all wrapped into one, and you kind of get the idea.
It was a great experience and well worth a visit.
As Sandy observed … “if ever I need more water buffalo tiramisu mascarpone, accompanied by organic brewed coffee and locally grown spices, with a wedge of water buffalo camembert cheese on the side, then I’ll know where to come”.
Speaking of water buffalo, which you don’t do a lot of on a yacht it must be said, I asked the nice lady at the water buffalo camembert stall … “where do you keep your water buffalo?” … As non-plussed and as expressionless as you like she answered … “in the paddock”. I suppose I was hoping for more, but I thought better of pursuing things further and instead strolled on.
It was about 11:30am that John dropped the car off and after dropping him back to his home, just 15 minutes away, plus having lunch with him and his wife Maryke, I returned to have second-lunch with Dean, Sandy and Samantha, aboard the boat; which consisted of a really big slice of non-faux meat slice, bought NOT at one of the market stalls, but in a regular pastry and pie shop.
By early afternoon we were ready to hit the road, all four of us eager to see the nearby sights and views of Banks Peninsular. Looking back, you might say we were ambitious, even courageous, in what we set out to do… probably covering 200 kilometres or more in just a few short hours.
Our first destination was Sumner Beach, up and over Dyers Pass, where we indulged in a coffee and soaked in the beach vibe and setting. It was then off to Lincoln University. Something of a nostalgic trip for me, which Dean, Sandy and Samantha happily accommodated, because it was here between 1978 and 1981 that I pursued the “getting of wisdom”, finally obtaining a bachelor of commerce degree in horticulture.
Before heading to the Lincoln Pub (the traditional watering hole of all young folk back in the day), we had a quick look at the key university sights, including the old flat of John Matt and me.
The pub itself is no longer simply called “Bob’s”, as it was 40 years ago. Like many things around here it suffered the effects of the big earthquake and in addition was “yuppy-fied” over the course of years into a slightly more upmarket establishment called the “Famous Grouse”
Ordering a jug of beer, instead of individual glasses, Dean was keen to know the name of the local drop … “It’s called Pin Hid”, said the jolly lady behind the bar … “Pin Hid?”, repeated Dean with a quizzical look … “yeh, Pen Hed”, she repeated … “you know, like frying pin” she continued … pointing to her head with one hand while shaking what looked like flying pan in front of her with the other.
“Pen Hed??”, persisted Dean, clearly still a little unsure of this strange combination of words, but wanting to get it right, he repeated … “It’s called Pen Hed? is it?”, thinking he’d finally nailed it.
“No, it’s a Pan Head IPA”, said the bar lady; probably wondering, by this time, about Dean’s cognitive ability.
“Oh!!!! … Pan Head”, smiled Dean, by now eager to move away and wrap things up.
The beer went down well, and it was nice to soak in the memories and feelings of times-past as a student, in this place, at a very formative time of life.
We now mounted a serious assault on the peaks, valleys and winding roads of Banks Peninsular, taking in a quick stop at Little River to buy fruit from an old class mate who owns an orchard and road side stall there. We almost got to see Matt and Philomena’s home at Little River, but they were out at the time. So we headed up to the Hill Top Hotel, overlooking Akaroa Harbour, before making our way to Pidgeon Bay, Port Levy and Diamond Harbour before skirting Lyttleton Harbour back to the marina.
By the time we’d got to Port Levy, it occurred to me that we’d certainly covered some ground in this wee car. And whilst small Toyotas are very fuel efficient, they still need to be filled up occasionally. Glancing at the fuel gauge a few things then instantly ran through my mind as I lifted my foot slightly from the accelerator … in particular … “how far will this car travel when the gauge is below empty?” … “Is there any chance there might be a petrol station this side of Lyttleton – still at least 50 km away?”, and is it worth telling my passengers of the impending dilemma?”
In the end, to my immense relief, we made it to an automatic petrol station on the outskirts of Diamond Harbour, where I put in as much of the precious liquid that I could.
It had certainly been a big day and after dropping the car back to John’s, having a chat with my new-best-friend Alan, off the yacht next door, it was time for dinner – it was around 9:30pm.
Sleep was fast approaching, but not before we watched the enormous cruise ship inch its way out of its berth, just a short distance away.
Tomorrow would be our big trip around Banks Peninsular … by yacht … Chimere in fact, with friends and family joining us for the jaunt. The weather for tomorrow looked “OK”, not brilliant, just OK … but there was the guarantee that as we headed south and west around the coast, that the land would afford an increasing amount of shelter … always a good thing for novice sailors.
For now, it was time to go to sleep bro, big time!
Smooth seas, fair breeze and up, down and around
Rob Latimer
NZ2020 