The following day Nick and Ben wake up early, eager to get going, while I'm still having the few drags out of my after-coffee cigarette. No problem, five minutes and we're ready to go. The wind veered a bit West, and will turn northerly. Still, perfect to get started, still on a broad reach all day. It is sunny again!
Mid afternoon finds us between Small and great Barrier Islands, the forecast is not so good for the couple days to come, so I fire up the computer to loook for a nice anchorage.
I find one, well tucked behind a coiuple points, just large enough to accommodate the boat. We pass by a bird rookery: a whole hill made white by the birds and their guano. We anchor in seven meters, by a small beach, in a bay that looks like out of a postcard.
The day after it's blowing hard, but we're well sheltered, and we have a good sleep. While I pour my coffee I hear Ben shouting to come up! Come up!
Of course I spring out there, always in fear of a dragging anchor or something. Instead it's a pilot whale, circling mischievously around the boat, blowing now and then. She makes a few circles then comes alongside on it's side, letting and eye clearly emerging from the water and squinting at us. And off she goes.
Beautiful. She actually winked.
We finish breakfast and decide to change scenario and motor to the main sheltered area near to 'civilization'. Outside it's blowing 50 knots, there's a big swell coming at us, but Keturah bobs gracefully up and down, without lurches or rolling. Thanks god for the sheletered cockpit, or we'd be all drenched in salt water and instead of feeling like a funride it would be like facing Cape Horn. We go through the narrow passage by , I see a red boat down in a cove that looks just like Pig Iron, the boat by Elsa and David, a lovely old couple that would always welcome me back at Pier 21 to let me vent a bit of frustration and have a glass of wine. They've lived on her boat for twenty years and have been just about everywhere.
We go by them, noticing what a sheltered spot they picked up, wave a turn around to go to Port...., see what's there as the guys are already itching to get ashore. We anchor in rocky bottom, drag a bit, so I decide to let them go and stay on Keturah. The place looks deserted anyway. They inflate the dinghy and leave in exploration for the rest of the afternoon.
Later, once they're back, we decide to change spot...port..is not so sheltered, the williwaws come down the surrounding hills like angry devils. We decide that Pig Iron's spot was very nice after all, and even if we feel a bit like intruding, we go there.
As soon as we are anchored (dragging on rocks again), they shout to come over, actually David takes the dinghy and makes sure we do and it is soon discovered why:
they decided to quit smoking and left without cigarettes, so when they saw us, knowing we'd have cigarettes, they REALLY wanted us to anchor next to them. We have a nice afternoon drinking wine while I, nervously, can't keep my eyes off Keturah in the fear that she may be dragging anytime. She's been swinging quite a bit in the wind, and the previous experience with rocks didn't reassure me one bit.
We are invited for dinner, after we move to a different anchorage, as the wind from northerly is turning west again, and there's a little bay right opposite us that will do nicely: Smokehouse.
Arrived there everything is calm again, and ashore is some fish smoking facilities, a big grill, and a wood-operated boiler with a shower and an outdoor fire-tub, a bathtub one can light a fire underneath...never seen before.
We have a lovely evening with lots of wine on Pig Iron, I fall asleep by the wonderful diesel heater that's glowing and warming the whole boat. The morning after we will leave.
Mid afternoon finds us between Small and great Barrier Islands, the forecast is not so good for the couple days to come, so I fire up the computer to loook for a nice anchorage.
I find one, well tucked behind a coiuple points, just large enough to accommodate the boat. We pass by a bird rookery: a whole hill made white by the birds and their guano. We anchor in seven meters, by a small beach, in a bay that looks like out of a postcard.
The day after it's blowing hard, but we're well sheltered, and we have a good sleep. While I pour my coffee I hear Ben shouting to come up! Come up!
Of course I spring out there, always in fear of a dragging anchor or something. Instead it's a pilot whale, circling mischievously around the boat, blowing now and then. She makes a few circles then comes alongside on it's side, letting and eye clearly emerging from the water and squinting at us. And off she goes.
Beautiful. She actually winked.
We finish breakfast and decide to change scenario and motor to the main sheltered area near to 'civilization'. Outside it's blowing 50 knots, there's a big swell coming at us, but Keturah bobs gracefully up and down, without lurches or rolling. Thanks god for the sheletered cockpit, or we'd be all drenched in salt water and instead of feeling like a funride it would be like facing Cape Horn. We go through the narrow passage by , I see a red boat down in a cove that looks just like Pig Iron, the boat by Elsa and David, a lovely old couple that would always welcome me back at Pier 21 to let me vent a bit of frustration and have a glass of wine. They've lived on her boat for twenty years and have been just about everywhere.
We go by them, noticing what a sheltered spot they picked up, wave a turn around to go to Port...., see what's there as the guys are already itching to get ashore. We anchor in rocky bottom, drag a bit, so I decide to let them go and stay on Keturah. The place looks deserted anyway. They inflate the dinghy and leave in exploration for the rest of the afternoon.
Later, once they're back, we decide to change spot...port..is not so sheltered, the williwaws come down the surrounding hills like angry devils. We decide that Pig Iron's spot was very nice after all, and even if we feel a bit like intruding, we go there.
As soon as we are anchored (dragging on rocks again), they shout to come over, actually David takes the dinghy and makes sure we do and it is soon discovered why:
they decided to quit smoking and left without cigarettes, so when they saw us, knowing we'd have cigarettes, they REALLY wanted us to anchor next to them. We have a nice afternoon drinking wine while I, nervously, can't keep my eyes off Keturah in the fear that she may be dragging anytime. She's been swinging quite a bit in the wind, and the previous experience with rocks didn't reassure me one bit.
We are invited for dinner, after we move to a different anchorage, as the wind from northerly is turning west again, and there's a little bay right opposite us that will do nicely: Smokehouse.
Arrived there everything is calm again, and ashore is some fish smoking facilities, a big grill, and a wood-operated boiler with a shower and an outdoor fire-tub, a bathtub one can light a fire underneath...never seen before.
We have a lovely evening with lots of wine on Pig Iron, I fall asleep by the wonderful diesel heater that's glowing and warming the whole boat. The morning after we will leave.
No comments:
Post a Comment