The weather forecast showed this
wonderful weather turning in a couple of days time, so on Monday
morning I was keen to be on my way to make the most of it while it
lasted. I upped anchor from Oneroa before 9am, passing over the spot
showing as Honey's destination on the Oracle. There were less than
forty yachts anchored in the bay, the majority having departed on
Sunday afternoon. With light winds and both the mainsail and headsail
raised, I slowly sailed north, passing between D'Urville Rocks and
Ahaaha Rocks, heading in the direction of Kawau Island. Passing
outside of Tiritiri Matangi Island, and then between Kawau Island and
Flat Rock, the wind dropped off and we motor sailed across Omaha Bay
into Omaha Cove. After topping up the diesel tank, and anchoring in
the cove, I rowed to shore, keen to walk up to the town of Leigh.
My very first memories are from when I
was 3 ½ years old and sailing with my parents from Auckland to the
Bay of Islands on a H28 yacht, and my absolute first memory was
walking up a big hill with Mum and Dad, holding Dad's hand, and where
the hill flattened at its top there was a shop where we bought a sand
castle set – I had been told this was Leigh and I was keen to
revisit the place of my first memory and see if it was as I
remembered it. As I walked up the hill there was nothing familiar,
but once I turned the final bend and saw the Leigh General Store in
front of me, it was exactly as I had remembered it! The store was
even painted the same blue colour and they still sold the same sand
castle sets! I bought an icecream and excitedly told the shop keeper
that I hadn't been here since I was 3 ½ and it was lovely to see it
just the same.
|
The Leigh General Store, just as I had remembered it! |
Honey and I stayed in Omaha Cove that
night. Dad was due to join me for a long weekend from Thursday, and
was keen to visit Great Barrier Island. With the weather due to turn
I decided I would head to Great Barrier Island the following day so I
could be tucked up on Tuesday evening before the storm was due to
hit, then Dad could fly out to meet me.
I was up at first light on Tuesday
morning, eager to visit the Goat Island marine reserve before I went
to Great Barrier Island. Honey and I motored the short distance from
Omaha Cove around Cape Rodney, anchoring on the south west side of
Goat Island. Matt had recommended feeding frozen peas to the snapper
who would almost eat out of your hand. Without a freezer I had no
frozen peas, but armed with a bag of dried peas and mixed vegetables,
I jumped into the water with snorkel mask and flippers. It wasn't
long before the snapper, heaps of them and some pretty large ones,
were swimming up to me and snapping their mouths at the peas – very
cool! As well as snapper there were some smaller fish, terakihi I
think. I didn't spot any blue cod that I was later told are so large
that they attack and terrorise the crayfish!
|
Snapper at Goat Island |
After my swim I stowed the dinghy, ate
a quick breakfast and readied Honey for the day sail across to Great
Barrier Island. Lifting anchor I motor sailed towards the south end
of Little Barrier Island in light winds. Half way across Jellicoe Channel, the water between Little Barrier Island and the North Island, I motor sailed into the middle
of a huge pod of dolphins that seemed to stretch for many miles,
heralded by some spectacular acrobatics that held me captivated for
several minutes! The winds were due to build from the north and shift towards the north east, and as I left the dolphins behind the winds picked up sufficiently to have a lovely beam sail across to Little Barrier Island, passing close enough to read the notices
that landing is not permitted. There were a few sharks off the south
east corner of the island, which I am told were most likely bronze
whalers. Leaving the lee of the island the winds had picked up more
and from the north east as forecast, now blowing 20 knots. A gust
whipped the working gib out from the furler, leaving it flapping
furiously, held up only by the halyard and at the bottom of the luff. I
tried to lower the sail, but with no working autohelm I could not
keep Honey facing into the wind. Turning down wind the sail lowered
and dropped into the water, and with the wind filling part of the
sail and the sea the remainder I still had no luck with retrieving
the sail. Turning back into the wind, the gusts whipped the sail back
out of the water, I raised the sail up and turned again towards the
lee of Little Barrier Island, which was fortunately only just over a
mile away. It was clear there was no way I could lower the sail with
the wind blowing relatively strongly, and if I didn't get it down
soon it would tear. Tucked in behind the lee of the island, just
offshore from the 'No Landing Permitted' sign and out of the
strongest of the wind, I easily dropped the gib and stowed it away,
deciding to continue under motor with assistance only from the
mainsail.
|
The Approach to Little Barrier Island |
With one reef in the main, Honey and I
motored towards the southern end of the Broken Islands, keeping north
of Horn Rock which is about half way across Craddock Channel. The
wind continued to build to about 25 knots from the north east, as had
been forecast, and once we reached False Head I maneovred Honey
around all the small islets in the approach to the Man O'War Passage
which marks the entry into Port Fitzroy. The passage is very narrow,
only 0.05 miles wide, which makes Port Fitzroy almost land-locked and
free from any swell. With storm force easterly winds forecast, we
headed for shelter in one of the bays on the eastern side –
Kaiarara Bay. It has been a few weeks since I had seen Ian and Marcia
on Rose of Therese, and I half expected I might see them at Great
Barrier – sure enough they were anchored in Kaiarara Bay! There
were already about 20 boats at anchor in the bay and we made our way
around the boats to a nice sheltered position in the south east
corner. I dropped the anchor and went to set it, but I
couldn't get it to dig in. By the time I had pulled the anchor in and
attempted to set it two more times – with each time it dragging, a
chap from a neighbouring yacht rowed over to me – he explained that
the mud in the harbour is very light and silty, and it would be hard
to get my anchor to hold. Honey's main anchor is a delta. With the
daylight fast disappearing and the strong winds forecast, I made my
way to one of the moorings on the north side of the bay, resolving to
change to my danforth anchor in the morning.
The wind picked up that night, gusting
to over 40 knots, and Honey was buffeted from side to side.
About 2am I woke up with a start – with a bang and then a chap
shouting “your boat is on mine!”, and I rushed on deck. It was
pitch dark, wet and windy, and my first thought was that Honey had
dragged the mooring block – I am always a bit nervous picking up an
unknown mooring. But it soon became clear that the other boat had
fallen back onto Honey – the skipper said that he wouldn't have
dragged, that he had too much scope out on his anchor, but I had my
doubts. He pulled in his anchor and headed further out into the bay
clear of the other boats, and I went back to bed. In the morning, he
returned on his paddle board to check if he had done any damage – a
skin fitting on the port side was broken, and he apologised and
paddled off in the opposite direction of his boat saying he had
checked the weather forecast a day or two previously and didn't
believe the storm was coming! I had heard on the VHF that the front
had just hit not far from where we were and the chatter was to 'brace
yourself, it's a goodie', and within 5 minutes the Tasman Tempest was
upon us, with heavy rain and winds whistling down the bay. The
mooring I had picked up was outside the Jetty Tourist Lodge, and I
called them up and they kindly allowed me to stay on the mooring a
further night and assured me that it had a decent 2 Tonne block and
was in survey. Honey and I hunkered down for the rest of the day to
weather out the storm – the winds continued to build and reached
their maximum at about 10pm that night, at 60 knots in the Colville
Channel just over 10 miles away.
|
The winds and rain of the Tasman Tempest starting to set in at Kaiarara Bay |
The following morning, Thursday 9th
March, dawned a little brighter – raining but not as heavy,
although still blowing a gale. Dad was due to arrive in the afternoon
but I was unsure whether the flight would be cancelled with the wild
weather. There is no public transport on Great Barrier Island, only
taxis, and it was going to be very expensive to get a taxi ride from
the Claris airstrip to Port Fitzroy, a much cheaper option was for
Dad to get a taxi to Whangaparapara Harbour – but that meant that I
had to run the gauntlet through the storm and sail Honey from Port
Fitzroy to Whangaparapara. I thought I would have a sheltered run
down to the Broken Islands, but once I had cleared the Junction
Islands the full force of the winds would be on Honey's nose while I
covered the approx 3.5 miles to Whangaparapara. Dad was relieved when
I said I would attempt the passage, and I readied Honey with storm
gib on deck and danforth anchor in place of Honey's delta. The rain
lifted, and just before 2.00pm I dropped the mooring and motored out
of Port Fitzroy and south towards the Broken Islands. The hills
provided good shelter, and I raised the fully reefed main just before
my approach to Flat Island, and then raised the storm gib after I had
cleared Rangiahua Channel which separates Flat Island from Great
Barrier. Passing the Junction Islands, the weather didn't look as
wild as I had thought, as I motorsailed towards Whangaparapara
Harbour. Until I had covered the first mile, and then the force of the winds and
the waves hit, stopping Honey in her tracks – my speed dropped to
less than a knot and in the wrong direction as the 3 metre waves
broke over Honey! It took over 1.5 hours for me to coax Honey the
short distance into Whangaparapara Harbour, tacking back and forth,
making only a few hundred metres good for every 2 mile zig and zag. I
tracked my progress against the Pigeons, a small group of rocks
surrounded by white water about 2 miles off Great Barrier, and was
relieved when they were finally behind me. Once I cleared Whangara
Island and within half a mile of the coast I was back into relative
shelter, and now sodden wet made my way up the harbour towards the
jetty outside Whangaparapara. Dad's flight had just landed, and the
taxi delivered him to the jetty where I picked him up in Honey,
dropping anchor just beyond the jetty. Dad arrived looking very tired, and when I asked him what he wanted to do he said just rest
and sleep – with the weather so bad at least we weren't missing out
on much. After a meal on board, we turned in for an early night.
After a lazy relaxing morning at anchor
on Honey, I moved her alongside the jetty to fill up the water tank
and then Dad and I took a short stroll through the very quiet village
– I hadn't been ashore since Leigh and I was keen to stretch my
legs. It was raining lightly, but before we got back to Honey it
started pouring down, and we waited out the rain in the shelter next
to the jetty, which was also filled with second hand books much to
Dad's delight. Braving the rain we set out back towards Port Fitzroy,
prepared for the winds and waves with three reefs in the main and the
storm gib. When we left Whangaparapara Harbour, we found the wild
weather had subsided, with winds of no more than 30 knots and waves
down to about 1.5m. As Honey was under-powered with the sail set-up
and we had only a short distance to cover, we motor sailed in the
rain retracing my path from the previous day. The rain was heavy, but
once we were past the Broken Islands, the heavens completely opened
up. I put on a cap to stop the water streaming through my eyes, and
Dad said he had never seen such heavy rain in his life. Two minutes
later, the rain doubled in strength, just incredible! We
entered into Port Fitzroy with the rain still pelting down, being
buffeted by the occasional 50 knot plus gust, and made our way into
Rarowharo Bay, where the Port Fitzroy village is located. We tucked into
Warren's Bay behind Coigne Island, dropping anchor not far from two
boats on moorings, taking care to ensure there was enough scope with
the gale force winds forecast that night, but not so much that Honey
would risk colliding with the moored boats. Making the most of the
rain, I showered in the cockpit, the rain being heavy enough to wash
away the suds! We had intended to go ashore and have dinner at the
Port Fitzroy Boat Club, which we'd heard had great food, but with it
so wet we opted to stay on board.
The winds whistled through the bay that
night, with Honey being jostled back and forth. Fortunately Dad slept
through most of the weather, and I got up at midnight when the winds
were at their worst to sit on watch perched in the companionway under
the shelter of the dodger. Honey held fast and swung very close to
one of the moored yachts, to within a boat length. After about 2
hours when the winds eased, I crept back into my bunk for the
remainder of the night.
The winds had eased to 25 knots with
only light rain by morning, and with a pretty good forecast for that
day – winds from the north east easing to 20 knots. The weather was
forecast to whip up again the following day - Sunday, and Dad needed
to be back in Auckland by mid afternoon to catch his flight home.
Rather than risk a long day's sail in storm force winds the following
day, we decided to sail off in the afternoon across the gulf to Kawau
Island. Dad had brought a replacement autohelm drive with him and he
wired on the plug whilst I put the working gib back on Honey's
furler. Two of the kiwi slides had been torn off, so to avoid having
a repeat of the gib pulling out of the furler track I would need to
maintain two turns of the sail on the roller. I nosed Honey up to the
Port Fitzroy wharf so that Dad could jump ashore and grab some
supplies from the store, and then shortly before 1pm we
headed off back through the Man O'War passage towards Kawau.
We had a lovely sail across to Kawau
Island under full sail, with the winds blowing 15-20 knots from the
north east. The rain stopped just before we left, and for the first
time in days we even had patches of blue overhead. Dad had recharged
from the rest he'd had over the last two days, and he was up sailing
with me in the cockpit, tinkering with the wind pilot and dropping a
fishing line to troll for fish. Dad caught five very large kawhai,
and I caught one, all of which we threw back over board once we had
landed them. Rounding the northern end of Kawau Island, we sailed
down to Bon Accord Harbour and I dropped Dad off on the jetty outside
the Kawau Boating Club at about 7.30pm, in time for last orders for
dinner. After I had set Honey's anchor not far from the jetty, I
paddle boarded ashore and caught up with Dad who had met and struck
up a conversation with Don and Margie, two solo sailors living aboard
their boats that were also anchored a little beyond the jetty. After
we had tucked into our dinner – snapper and chips, yum! - and
chatted with David the manager and a few other locals, we headed back
to Honey – me on the paddle board and Dad with Don and Margie in
Don's dinghy.
|
Dad and one of his large kawhai |
The following morning, Sunday 12th
March, we set off in good time at 9am, with a fairly terrible
forecast – 40 knots of NE, changing 50 knots W at midday, and
easing to 25 knots SW by the evening, and with heavy rain. Elliott
had offered to pick up Dad to take him to the airport in the
afternoon, and our plan A was to sail to Half Moon Bay Marina up the
Tamaki River and be met there. With the bad weather, I had several
back-up plans: plan B to sail to Waiheke Island where Dad could catch
the ferry, plan C to Gulf Harbour Marina, plan D to Mahurangi Harbour
and if the weather was really bad plan E was to make to Sandspit only
about six miles from where we were anchored. There was a good 35
knots of NE blowing when we left Bon Accord Harbour, with the main
sail fully reefed and the working gib partially furled – enough
wind for a good fast sail and not so much that we needed to consider
plan E. Skirting Martello Rock we sailed through the rain down the
Inner Channel west of Moturekareka Island and then turning to pass
north of Motuora Island towards the Whangaparoa Passage, passing
inside of Tiritiri Matangi Island shortly before midday having
averaged 6 knots. The wind eased, rain lifted and the sea flattened
and once we were past Tiritiri Matangi I fully unfurled the gib (bar
the two turns left on the furler) and we needed to start the engine
to maintain even 5 knots. About 2 miles south of Whangaparoa
Peninsula en route to the Rangitoto Channel, it became clear that we
were passing through the calm before the storm. Menacing black clouds
approached us at pace from the west, and I had time to only ease the
gib sheet before we were belted by 60 knot winds accompanied by
teeming rain – the sting in the tail of the Tasman Tempest! I sent
Dad into the cabin to wait out the worst of the weather with the
washboards and hatch shut, whilst I struggled to furl in the hugely
over-powered gib. I was not sailing with the autohelm as I didn't
want to risk it getting waterlogged – I would need it for my long
overnight passages on the journey south – and it was proving very
problematic to steer Honey into the wind and furl in the gib at the
same time. I couldn't uncleat the furling line to wrap it around the
winch, as that would fully unfurl the gib and with the two broken
kiwi slides tear it clean out of the furler. Fighting against the
wind which by now had eased to 50 knots, I pulled the line with one
wrap around the winch and Dad poked his head out of the cabin
suggesting that with the front past he could steer Honey while I furl
in the gib. This made for quick work in furling up the gib, and I
made a mental note to in future leave some turns of the furling line
on the winch before I cleat it off. I turned Honey to head for the
Rakino Passage knowing that we would struggle to make any headway
towards the west in these winds, and Dad sat at the tiller while I
went on deck to untangle the very large birdsnest that the wind had
turned the two gib sheets into. With the winds now only blowing a
gale, we partially unfurled the gib and sailed through the Rakino
Passage and into the shelter behind Motutapu Island. It was just on
2pm and we judged that we would have sufficient time to make it to
Half Moon Bay Marina, although with the spring low tide we would need
to pass north of Brown Island before we turned into the Tamaki River
mouth. The westerly was still whipping down the Motukorea Channel and
as we passed Browns Island the depth gauge warned that we had very
little clearance between Honey's keel and the ground, but we made it
without further mishap into the Tamaki River, and on up to Half Moon Bay. Dad
had been growing more anxious and irritable as the day had worn on,
probably with concern about making his flight and his pending return
to reality, and I called up the marina security to assist me with
berthing Honey in the winds while Dad got himself packed and ready to
leave. Safely berthed, Elliott arrived shortly afterwards to take Dad
to the airport and returned to the marina to have a good look over
Honey – and also exchange sailing stories! I had my first night
away from Honey since I set off from the Sounds – no sooner had
Elliott left when Pete and Charlie (who was celebrating his 7th
birthday) arrived to take me back to their house in St Helliers where
I enjoyed one of Fi's lovely home cooked meals!
I stayed with Pete and Fi for two
nights – very comfortable and lovely to catch up with them, and so
good to be warm and dry and to have all my washing done, although it
did seem strange away from my swaying cocoon aboard Honey. Late
morning on the Monday I did pop down to the marina – to complete my
berth registration and start tidying up and drying out Honey after
all the days Dad and I had spent traipsing in and out of her in the
rain. And in the evening I took my first Uber ride across town to
visit Rich, Flo and Sally in Ponsonby, and enjoyed another home
cooked meal!
On Tuesday 14th March, Pete
dropped me off early to Honey armed with some of Fi's baking –
ginger crunch, good for seasickness! Once I had finished tidying and
cleaning up, Honey and I headed out of the marina shortly after 9am,
back towards Kawau Island so that I could have a better explore of
the place. It was a clear sunny day, blowing 15 knots from the south
west, and we re-traced our path from the two days prior but this time
sailing through the Rangitoto Channel to the west of Rangitoto
Island. It was a lovely day on the water under full sail, passing through the
Inner Channel on route to Bon Accord Harbour, where I dropped anchor
in Harris Bay opposite the Kawau Boating Club. Margie motored over in
her dinghy to say hello soon after I arrived, but she couldn't linger
as she was needed at the boating club where there was to be an
attempt to get rid of ghosts that were said to be haunting the place
– I never did hear how successful this was! A host of other yachts
and power boats dropped anchor around Honey, and Paul on one of the
boats motored over and invited me for drinks with them. I duly accepted and after I'd
finished my dinner joined them for a fantastic evening aboard
– they were a big group of friends who worked for Air New Zealand,
and this was their annual regatta in the gulf comprising a boating
and fishing weekend. After drinks and freshly caught snapper bites,
out came the guitars and boating play lists and we had sing-a-longs
well into the night!
Wednesday dawned a beautiful warm sunny
day, with a strong breeze blowing from the south. After a relaxing
morning aboard Honey, waving good-bye as most of the Air New Zealand
crowd departed, I set off on my paddleboard to Mansion House Bay.
There are several walking tracks on the island, although a number of
these were closed whilst DoC was assessing the stability of the
ageing pines on the island. I wandered along one of the open tracks
that dropped down to the old disused copper mine, with the remains of
the coppermine engine house standing out along the shore – this was
used unsuccessfully in the 1850s to pump sea water from the copper
mines that were mostly below sea level. After a good stretch of the
legs, walking back to Mansion House via Dispute Cove and Ladys Bay, I
paddled back to Honey and readied her for the sail the following day
across the gulf and back to Great Barrier Island.
|
The view along the Mansion House Bay jetty |
|
The remains of the coppermine engine house |
|
The view south from Kawau with the coppermine and surrounding islands |
|
Mansion House |
The forecast for Thursday was for 20
knots from the SE, easing to 15 knots in the evening, which meant I
would be sailing into the wind. Honey and I set off shortly after
8.30am, out from Bon Accord Harbour and south around Kawau Island
passing through Rosario Channel. The wind was coming almost directly
from the east and was straight on the nose until I had passed
Challenger Island and then Flat Rock. I then set the headsail and
sailed in a ENE direction towards Great Barrier Island, pleased to be
averaging 5 knots. With the wind direction, I was unable to sail
Honey directly towards Tryphena Harbour, where I was intending to
anchor overnight, steering instead in towards Blind Bay. After a few
tacks and by this point becoming a little weary with the head on
seas, we passed Amodeo Rocks and made our way into Tryphena, dropping
the pick in one of the eastern bays in the harbour just before 6pm.