Precious Moments

Otaio Bay, Urupukapuka Island, Bay of Islands Marina, North Island

Wednesday 7 July 2021

After the excitement of finally arriving, despite the forces against it, our latest arrivals – James and Eva – crept off to their cabin around 11:00pm last night, closely followed by everyone else; not to James and Eva’s cabin you understand, but to their respective bunks.  

The wind outside was really howling and after an hour or two, it started pouring with rain, which seemed to keep up till morning.

For ventilation, and who knows … a quick escape if necessary … each cabin has a hatch, opening up on the deck.  At night, we mostly sleep with the hatch handle on the first notch.  Not totally sealed down against a breaking sea, but slightly ajar to let in some air.  Well, last night the rain was so hard it seemed to find its way through the tiny crack and onto our faces as we slept – enough to have us sealing the hatch right down.

By morning the wind had pretty much blown itself out, but drizzle persisted and as our gallant crew began to stir in their bunks I worked my way through the list of “departure tasks” I’d made the night before … top up the water tanks, put the bag of snorkel gear back on Chimere from where it’s been stored in the large dinghy, (which we’ve been leaving tied in our berth rather than have it clutter the foredeck) pump diesel up from one of the four onboard storage tank into the “day tank”, from where the engine (and generator) draw their supply and remove most of the mooring lines and replace them with two simple lines, fore and aft, that can be easily retrieved as we back out of the berth.

By 8:30am there was still very little action onboard, and so there was nothing for it but to start the engine.  I’ve found in the past that this seems to focus people’s attention, because everyone knows the sound of the engine … and it wouldn’t be turned on if we weren’t going somewhere … which naturally prompts the question in people’s minds … “are we going somewhere?” …

Pretty soon, Matt and James were on the scene to ease out and retrieve the bow and stern lines, as we slid out of our berth, text book style, heading out into the grey, misty soup of the morning.

Breakfast was served up as each person emerged and by 9:00am the Opua wharf was well astern.  It was a flat, dead calm morning, with the threatening clouds of the night before receding on the horizon.

Beyond the confines of the harbour – that lies between the towns of Opua, Paihia and Russell, the wind gathered and the swell whipped up from the last day’s blow caused us to rise and fall on our way to our first stop for the day – Robertson Island …

“That’s you”, said Eva, pointing to James …

“What??” I inquired 

“Robertson … Robert’s-son”, she persisted … “Ohhh … I get it … very good … never thought of that before” I said.

“Has it got another name?”  asked Eva … “arr yes … Motuarohia Island, I see” said Eva, looking at the chart plotter

Having stopped in here just the other day, Linda and I were keen to show the others.  It really is an amazing island, combining the high peak of the historic Maori Pa, the direct connection with Captain Cook who anchored here in 1769, not to mention the amazing rock formations, lagoon and narrow isthmus.

Fortunately, the sea was calm in the shelter of the bay, despite the onshore breeze and whilst Linda remained aboard to guard the fort, I took Matt, Cathy, James and Eva ashore to do some exploring.

By noon we were back on board boiling the kettle, with James at the helm as we lifted the anchor and headed out to explore some more islands.

This took us out through the narrow Okahu Passage and then back through the equally narrow Waewaetorea Passage, the 2-3 metre swell keeping James on his toes as he maintained a track in the deepest middle sections  

We were looking for an anchorage that was NOT impacted by the swell – we were sick of the pesky rolls – plus we wanted a remote bay where the south west wind blew offshore … AND where internet and phone connectivity was at least a 3-bar quality. Talk about picky. 

In the end we scored a solid 2 out of 3, having to compromise on the offshore wind bit.  Our final choice was Otaio Bay, on the western side of Urupukapuka Island where we found a sandy bottom in about 4 metres of water.  The wind blew straight into the bay, but there was no swell, only a small chop that was barely noticeable, plus 4G communications!   How good is this kids!?

By now it was past 2:00pm and after some snacks, and some lying around, it was finally decided to run ashore again to stretch our legs and do some more exploring.  James and Linda remained aboard to catch up on some sleep – plus Linda was keen to get dinner on the go … what a trooper … with Matt, Cathy, Eva and I heading off to shore.  By now the sun had won its battle with the clouds and was shining down on everything.  The sky was mostly blue and the last two hours of the day were shaping up as a magical time, with even the wind starting to take a rest. 

Once ashore we took the shortest track UP, along a path through green grass that looked just TOO green.  After a short time, we made our way onto a ridge that led the full length of the island and it was here that “magical” turned to sublime. 

Under a mostly blue sky, the low-hung rays of the Winter sun made the green grass glow and turned the distant misty clouds a washed-out vibrant yellow. 

We followed the grassy ridge path and after 5 minutes or so we encountered what Matthew described as … “his best tree ever” … and none of us could argue.  If Hobbiton was looking for a sister-city with a sea view, setting aside Makatu in the Bay of Plenty, then this grassy ridge, under the comforting arms and boughs of this truly amazing tree, would have to be high on the list

It was hard to draw ourselves away from the tree – “the best tree ever” – but soon enough we were back onboard – the inviting comfort of the cockpit and saloon hitting us like a warm embrace.  Along with the smells and sounds of dinner of course, which Linda had well in hand.

As Matt and I started the process of winching the dinghy onto the back davits, Cathy and Eva declared, “I think I’ll go for a swim” …  

I’d heard Eva say something similar up on the grassy ridge … but that was up there … and here we were down here … our little bay shrouded in shadows, sunlight fading, and a light shower starting fall from a passing cloud.  At the time, up on the ridge, I thought Eva was kidding, but no, here they both were adjusting their bathers, each clutching a towel, as they looked out of the cockpit windows at the grey world outside.

“Well, I’ll let down the side ladder … this looks serious” I said, moving forward on the portside.     A short time later Cathy and Eva appeared, descended the ladder and dived right in.  A fine example for us all!!  Not that anyone was about to follow their example … but they were the first (and only) ones to take the plunge since Nicola took a dive a couple of weeks back.   (Bit of a gender imbalance in the swimming department I’m detecting here …)

So, against all odds, as we approach 24 hours since James and Eva stepped aboard, we reflect on the precious moments we have all shared today – having the “whole gang” together, in this most wonderful part of the world. 

As a friend in Melbourne commented in an email to me yesterday … “Good to finally see all of you together, it’s been a worry for all of you. Enjoy all of you being together, take heaps of photos and soak up every minute I know how quickly life can go pear shaped so please enjoy each other.  Safe boating.“

Which is good advice … maybe it was Yoda … “Mmmmm you must “BE” not just “DO” mmm” … soaking in the present, the now, the precious moments we share together, not taking them for granted, or wishing them away in favour of a future time or ideal.

  Getting deep now, but as the ol’ man used to say … “you don’t want to die wondering”.

Smooth seas, fair breeze and precious moments

Rob Latimer