South East Bay, Mayor Island, North Island
Monday 14 June 2021
They say a bad day at sea is still better than a good day in the office. Although there were a couple of people on board … maybe three if push comes to shove … who would beg to differ.
To give you the end of the story first, we are currently at anchor in a snug little cove barely 200 metres across. It’s open to the south east, where we entered, flat calm, with the northerly wind howling through the rigging and the trees that rise on the steep hills that surround us. Oh, and it’s raining.
Going back to the start of the day … after paying our dues at office, along with my farewells to Anna and Julie, we got away at slack water. That brief period of time between the tides when it’s neither coming in nor going out. In our case, it was high tide and so once clear of the marina we rode the ebb, gaining speed all the while.
By 10:30 we were leaving the harbour, setting a course for Mayor Island, just 25 miles north of here. Not a big day’s sail, but being winter, days are short, and this was the first day out for everyone. Some, for around 10 days, some for a few years and in Martyn’s case his sailing experience extended to a Day Sail aboard Chimere four years ago in Port Vila.
So here we were, off on a short hop north, into what we thought would be favourable weather. Not ideal, but favourable. Which, in this case meant seas of just 1-2 metres – easy to drive over or through … and northerly winds of around 15 knots – on the nose, but we could still make good time tacking to our destination. After all it wasn’t that far away.
Things started out so calm, we didn’t even bother putting up the sails. In the absence of a breeze there was nothing for it but to set our course, put the engine at around 1700 REVS and make the most of the conditions – a speed of around 4-5 knots into the lumpy conditions.
We were all nautically dressed for action, out in the cockpit, and so with John in charge, I retreated to my cabin for a sleep. Admittedly, it was only 11:00am, but there’s a built-in automatic response to build up the “sleep deposits” when any conditions allow, plus the fact that I can sleep pretty much anywhere. Which I did, only to be woken by John’s voice an hour later, informing me that the wind was up and that we could maybe hoist some sail.
This we did, putting a single reef in the mainsail and only setting about half of the jib. All sheeted in tight to maximise our forward motion into the 15-20 knot wind. The seas, although not large had a particularly large “pothole” about every 7th wave. Just enough to slow things down to an annoying degree, despite the engine still ticking over in the background.
In the end, I think there must have been five tacks in all. Each one sending us forward, but still around 30 degrees off our final destination, and each one more painful than the last as the wind and sea grew more and more. Eventually, the wind came in at around 30 knots, which had the effect of lifting the seas, and for a couple of souls onboard, whatever was left of breakfast.
No names, of course … and no photographs … we don’t want to break the “footy-tour-code”, but looking on the bright side, we all recovered remarkably on entering this small wee bay, where the calm, tranquillity and dare I say, “the serenity” is utter bliss.
The time was 4:00pm, and after a brief catch-up on lunch for some – consisting of cheese on toast – and a small mug of tea and a drink of ginger beer for others, we all retreated to our bunks for a recuperative sleep.
Our fisherman friend, from the marina, on hearing that we were going to Mayor Island, announced … “well you’ll have it to yourself” … and he was right. There are buildings on shore, but no sign of life. And certainly no one else anchored in here. In fact, more than 5 boats and you might start bumping into each other, with the swirling wind and tides having you pointing in all directions on your anchor
It’s now dark, we’ve all just finished an amazing (pre-prepared and frozen) chicken dinner – complements of Annette – and the earlier wind and rain has all blown away. It’s as still as … bro. The stars are shining above, and it’s not quite warm, but then again, it’s not really cold. The wind from the north sharing some small piece of the tropics, even this far south.
The stillness is quite spooky, just a gentle rocking, this way and that, accompanied by an occasional ripple of water against the hull. Our anchor light is shining forth atop the mast and the white “clouds” above us really aren’t clouds at all, they are clusters of stars; the Milky Way.
Just for the record, Mayor Island – where we are anchored – is a wildlife refuge, privately owned by the Tuhua Maori Trust. We don’t intend to land, so there’s no problem just dropping anchor, then heading off when it suits. For us, that’ll be tomorrow sometime, after a lazy start … possibly a very lazy start. After all, we’ve been aboard together a little over 24 hours now and already we’ve experienced a fair variety of conditions. Officially though, we are still in the “easing into it” stage.
That also goes for some of the essential systems on board. In particular, that most mysterious of machines … the toilet, or “head”. Specifically, the electric one on the starboard side. The one hooked up to the holding tank. Again, the bro-code prevents me from giving too much away, but in the candid, yet humorous, de-brief afterwards – the “blockage” having been successfully cleared – John suggested that we could write a guide titled … “40 Uses For a Ryobi Wet-Vac Vacuum Cleaner”. Point “Number 1” would naturally be vacuuming carpets, Point “Number 2” would un-naturally be vacuuming “Number Toos”. Regardless, she’s a great little machine that Ryobi … and tonight she really took one, or twos, for the team!
Feels bad to finish the night’s blog on such a low note, but everyone’s gone to bed, and with no phone reception out here, I’ll need to get this message relayed on the Iridium Satellite Phone; the first time since leaving Wellington. If I can’t then it’ll have to wait till tomorrow, when we hope to be back closer to the coast.
Smooth seas, fair breeze and it started out calm
Rob Latimer
NZ2020 