Mana Marina (near Wellington)
Tuesday 31 March 2020
Thought I’d go for a walk today. Not a long walk. But the sun was shining, the air was still and I thought I’d take the opportunity to check out the neighbourhood – the LOCAL neighbourhood of course – just for future reference.
I’ve been watching the trains go past on the nearby line – both freight and suburban – over the past 10 days or so, and figured I should have a closer look.
Due to the “lock down” the passenger service is running to a Sunday Timetable apparently, with travel restricted to emergency and essential personnel only. Consequently there aren’t many people in each carriage, and no one I could see on the local Mana station.
There were naturally very few cars on the road and everyone I encountered, either walking, or on their bikes, seemed happy to share a wave, or a “hi” … from a respectful distance; the threat of viral attack not dimming people’s innate politeness … yet.
Linda, back home in Melbourne, has been busy scanning selected memorabilia, photos and writings from my Lincoln University days (near Christchurch, NZ) and sending them through as email attachments. All part of keeping me “occupied”, and it’s been really appreciated.
Looking through all the material, it’s hard to believe that it’s forty years since I shared a student flat with three other blokes – one of whom was John Land, my sailing buddy up until a little over a week ago.
One of the key documents Linda sent through was a “Ships Log” from that time. A hand written, wool-bound manuscript, grandly titled – by a 20-year old me – “Nautical Log of the Good Ship Siebzehn” … which chronicled the adventures and misadventures of the small 15-foot dinghy that I owned jointly with friend and fellow flatmate from the time, Matt Brosnahan. For regular readers of this blog, you’ll remember Matt from the Picton to Akaroa stage of this voyage.
Siebzehn (the name we gave our gallant vessel) – we were informed at the time – was German for 17 … the same number as our flat. I don’t know why we chose the German word to name our boat, but our flat could be described as a vibrant, active residence, (set among 20 or so other flats on the edge of the university campus) where there was never a dull moment. Actually, that’s putting it mildly, because whilst we all did the required study and passed the necessary exams, we never let the demands of study get in the way of a new distraction, prank, project, or adventure.
At the time, buying a “flat yacht” – in October 1980 – seemed the ultimate in time-wasting. Even rivaling our, mid-week snow skiing, running a direct-sales-cheese-retailing-business and having the university contract for posting the daily mail in alphabetical order on the public notice board.
The idea for a boat came from Matt Brosnahan I think, which I quickly endorsed. Since I was the only one who had ever sailed a boat, it was also a fun opportunity to introduce others to the joys of sailing … and as it turned out … to better understand why it’s sometimes said that … “worse things happen at sea”.
In fact, I meant to bring the Siebzehn ship’s log over with me on Chimere, so as to recall in greater detail our specific Banks Peninsular adventures from all those years ago, and contrast them with our new adventures, albeit on a slightly bigger vessel this time round!
Maybe once I’ve sorted through things a bit more, and matched some of the photos with each sailing adventure, I can add them to the end of these daily blogs, as regular episodes; there seems to be a bit of a common theme running through both, as it turns out.
My online search for potential crew, to help me sail Chimere back to Melbourne, has effectively ground to a halt. The chances of finding a suitable-someone, who lives just down the road, is kind of slim. It doesn’t stop me checking out the various sailing forums and Facebook sites, (full of beached yachties from around the wolrd, all with similar issues to me – but some far worse off) where I invariably end up down rabbit-burrows of “online content”, ending with cat videos, ships battling storms at sea and Twenty Greatest/Smallest/Fastest/Most Expensive … this or that.
Something that did grab my eye, however, which is really an amazing coincidence, was a collection of video clips from a chap called Harold Neel. Now, I met Harold in Port Vila in 2017, while we were conducting the National Oral Health Survey with Medical Sailing Ministries (www.msm.org.au) aboard Chimere. I even bought Harold’s book and visited him aboard his, once-glorious, 63 foot schooner Cassiopeia.
Last November, during my visit to Port Vila, I got to wondering where Harold had got to, because his boat was no longer on its mooring, over near Iririki Island. So, imagine my surprise when I found a video of Harold, filmed live yesterday in the US Virgin Islands from what I can tell, enthusiastically engaging with his virtual, online crew-audience. His distinctly Texan accent delivering a mix of hope, love and goodwill, with a mix of global spiritualism, planet-saving-philosophy and home-spun sailing and life-skill advice, thrown in for good measure.
Harold was, and obviously still is, an irrepressible force. And you can check him out at the following link:
https://www.facebook.com/harold.neel
Seeing Harold again, it got me looking back through my Vanuatu Ships Log from mid-2017, (plus photos) to see how I recorded my “Harold Encounter” from that time.
It certainly brought back a few classic memories and if you’d like to read more, I’ve included the links here:
Mark’s first day in paradise, Thursday 13 July 2017, Port Vila
http://msm.org.au/marks-first-day-in-paradise/
Circus comes to town. Friday 14th July 2017, Port Vila (Refer to Post Script)
http://msm.org.au/circus-comes-to-town/
Tomorrow marks the end of Week 1 of the NZ lockdown … and whilst technically there’s supposed to be just 3 weeks to go after that, in reality, it’s probably going to be months, rather than weeks before an end is in sight. On my walk today I see that the family is still “living” in the small hike-tent over by the water’s edge, and the motor homes from the other day are still there.
How long I can remain on this seawall – free of charge – is also a question that will probably have to be addressed shortly. There’s only so much free electricity and hospitality one can accept, before alternative … more conventional (and fee-paying) choices need to be considered – such as a marina berth.
Smooth seas, fair breeze and off my leash today
Rob Latimer
NZ2020 