Mana Marina (near Wellington)
Sunday 29 March 2020
After finishing off the last episode of the (DVD series) “The Kettering Incident” late last night … or was it early this morning, I excused myself for sleeping in, with the rain and wind keeping up their battle all night outside. Mercifully, the halyards remained silent. Or, perhaps I’m getting better at ignoring them, or was just too tired to care.
As for The Kettering Incident … the Tassie-based, sci-fi thriller which is kind-of a cross between Rosehaven and Doctor Who … was really good and engaging, but that said … I’m just hoping there’s another 8 additional episodes somewhere out there, because it’ll probably take that many to resolve all the loose ends. But then again, I was getting a bit tired and maybe I was in need of some more, less-subtle, cues and clues, to draw everything into a coherent conclusion.
Around lunch time, here in New Zealand, which coincided with the end of my breakfast, it occurred to me that it was Sunday – one day already starting to blur into the next. And being two hours ahead of Melbourne I realised it was not too late to log into my home-church in North Ringwood, where instead of meeting in person, the clever folk … or a few of the clever tech-savvy ones … had set up the technology to Live Stream the service, pretty much as if you were there.
It was really good, and a chance to re-connect with so many friends I haven’t communicated with since January, with Comments being posted down the side of the screen, throughout the proceedings.
Then, in the early afternoon, all of a sudden it was like someone turned off a tap, or more correctly … a hydrant. The boat resumed its upright position, the noise in Chimere’s rigging and every other boat in the marina fell silent and the sound of rain on the roof stopped. It then came out sunny and warm, with the trees and water as still as still.
It wasn’t long before the walkers and cyclists made an appearance, on the nearby path, over on the playing fields and in the distance on the walking trails across the channel. Like someone had sounded a starting gun, and off everyone went, released from two days of forced additional isolation, on account of the weather.
The calm conditions gave me a chance to re-attach a cockpit awning that had become unzipped as a result of the wind’s force. The reattachment, this time, involving quite a bit of additional stitching of the zip itself, to ensure it can’t be forced open again; or at least reduce the chance of it being unzipped by the wind again.
I too was tempted onto the pavement and dawdled off along the edge of the nearby channel that connects the open sea to the inside harbor and marina, and which we navigated on arrival back on the 20 March. The tide was running out this afternoon and the short, steep waves indicated that the water was travelling at a reasonable speed, with the edges of the channel clearly very shallow, with expanses of sand appearing here and there. The only deep water being the narrow strip of middle-turbulence extending, maybe a mile out towards the entrance
A short distance away I gained a glimpse of how some others are living out their isolation … in campervans, motor homes, cars and even a small hike tent. These were all located on the raised grassy land that rises from the water’s edge. The break in the weather seemed a welcome event for all, but in particular the occupants of the small tent, who looked like they needed the opportunity to dry out, with the nearby trees full of everything from undies to sleeping bags.
Not a scene you can easily photograph, without naturally raising suspicions, but it was good to see people finding solutions.
It gave me the feeling that, in these serious times, maybe we have now crossed the line from a world that says, “… but the law says you can’t camp here” … to a more pragmatic world that says … “well, if you aren’t doing any harm … just do the best you can, and just clean up when you leave”
Which might seem like a step back to an earlier, less legalistic time, but in so many ways it seems a healthier step forward, into something of the past we have sadly left behind and should capture again; the absence of formal rules and their replacement with values, being more the measure of progress, than an ever-expanding statute.
Maybe I’m just dream’n
In some small way, I’m just thankful I’ve been allowed to “camp here” aboard Chimere, on the seawall at the Mana Cruising Club. I’ve received instructions indirectly from the Commodore of the club, that approval for a temporary stay has been given, until I have a certain plan. So, in the meantime I’ll just keep quiet, here in the corner, right out of anyone’s way.
Late afternoon and my regular “Howdy” call came in from cousin Keith, who, as I’ve mentioned before lives nearby. He and Christine are making the most of their isolation time. I asked about whether he was into board games and he suggested it wasn’t his thing, and I got the impression that also included jigsaws. It reminded me of a picture of a “completed” jigsaw which my son James recently sent around on our family chat group, with the caption … “Nailed It”. I’m not sure if the jigsaw was completed by him, or an accountant who reckoned financial statements just needed to be … “within a few hundred bucks of it”. But I thought it was very funny. After all, jigsaws can be so confining and restrictive, what with all those pieces and edges, not to mention colours and contrasts.
Several years ago a self-contained, flat screen DVD player, on a swinging arm, was installed in Chimere’s saloon. The theory being that in quiet times, we could watch movies from time to time. In reality, it’s hardly been used. It’s fun to have when the time is right, but usually, there is no time. We are just so busy doing “stuff”, or so tired we need to sleep, to be able to sit around a TV. Consequently, all the DVDs and CDs on board have been stored in a big plastic bag; stowed away. That is, until now.
As you can see from the photo, I’m setting up the saloon more like a pool room and less like a sailing boat. And whilst the fresh fruit and commonly used food items are readily at hand, the bulk of the pantry is in lower lockers and in the big freezer. Including some of the fish caught down the West Coast and in Fiordland – some of which is on the menu tonight. Along with chips and salad of course. Doh!! there I go talking about food again?!
And now it’s dark, it’s started raining again. But there’s no doubt, they do need the rain in these parts. It’s actually been a bit too dry these past few months and the rain is most welcome
Smooth seas, fair breeze and like someone turned off the tap
Rob Latimer
NZ2020 