"Houston, we have a problem"

Just when we thought things were getting back to normal after the storm another reminder of the cruising learning curve came and paid a visit.


I was working on the computer when it went down (inverter problem) followed quickly by the charging system going down (battery problem).  I was watching the battery bank amps visibly bleeding out, and voltages dropping.  Ack!  No problem, I'll just start the boat and charge things up.  Click - click.  No go.  Boat won't start.


Before explaining what  happened I'll give you the sage advice most long term cruisers have probably learned the hard way.  1) Don't mix battery types in a charging system (i.e. Lead acid and Gell cells).  2) Don't trust amp hour readings - only look at Voltages.


Those of you saying "Of course you do those things," well... you're in the club already.  Now so am I.


When we bought this boat, the previous owner Max was to install all new batteries in the battery bank, which he did.  Four good deep cycle lead acid 6 V Golf cart batteries, plus a 12 V Starter battery.  Check.  Trouble was, the starter was a Gell Cell battery - which he told me was a sealed lead acid - and not reading Spanish - I wasn't able to argue the point.  In retrospect - the "sealed" part should have been the give-away.


Anyway...  so the problem is that our regulator has been overcharging the Gell Cell's (they accept a lower voltage) - and so the the Gell Cell Starter battery had a electrolyte boil off.   The bad Starter dragged the rest of the house bank ( the other 4 batteries) down, and me... well I was watching the amp hours available (which is an imaginary number since it is based on voltage only - and your word that the battery capacity is "X" - presuming "X" is a good value like 400 amp hours.  If the capacity of the batteries has been degraded the Voltage will still show fully charged - but the capacity is minimal.  Yeah, like a fully charged tricycle.


So once we figured out our House Bank was dragged down - we had to bring it back to life.  We stuck it on a charger for three days, and brought the capacity back so every cell was in the green with the hygrometer - which checks the specific gravity of the acid in the cells.  Now we've isolated the starter (which is now a pretty gutless battery) and we are back in business.  Dodged a bullet.


We probably will get a proper lead-acid 12 Volt Starter batter to replace our crummy one - thanks Max.  Trouble is that here in New Zealand they start at about $350.00 - roughly 3 times the cost back home.  We may wait till we get to a cheaper place.  Not sure yet.  Gotta love import taxes here.


So all is well.  Pedestal is basically done - excepting some varnish.  We'll go into the dock soon to clean our water tank - an annual job.  We also have to do some sail maintenance, replace a broken batten on the main, and get a tang welded to strengthen it.  Coming along.  Seems like most boats here have a list about as long or longer.


Everyone's got a cold - snuffles and stuff.  Tamsyn even has a low fever - she usually dodges these things, but not this time.  Carrie's brother Tim has had some medical problems that we are all concerned about, and that's been a bit of a worry.  We're also trying to figure out where we will head when we leave NZ.  Cheers.


Owen

Calls in the Night, plus Chocolate Cake

March 17 - 23

The "storm" predictions broadcast as Securitee Warnings were caused by two systems converging. One coming up from the Tasman Sea (a high heading northwest) and another from the Pacific Ocean (a low heading Southeast). We would be in the squash zone. The winds predicted were up to 60 knots (a level 1 hurricane begins at 62 knots.) Again there was the calm before the wind. The day before the storm hit, the water around the boat was like glass, the air was too still and the moisture high. It felt muggy. All day as the radio warned. Owen and Griffyn watched the barometer fall. We cleared the cockpit, stowed things, brought our garbage to shore, and bought fresh food. The big drops fell steadily now. I wish we could put up the rain catcher!

We all took Meclazine (sea-sickness medicine) before bed. We called S/V Puddy Tat, S/V Kudana (and other friends) to let them know that we would have the VHF radio on all night. We wished them a safe night and would check-in in the morning. Around 11PM, we found a puddle on the navigation desk. Owen swore and I threw him a towel. Everything seemed to be wet. We quickly moved log books, tools, external drives, papers off the nav station. During all the repairs it had become a pile of miscellaneous parts and tools (in addition to the home for our main navigation computer.) I grabbed a bowl and we put it under the steady drip coming from the grab rail above the desk. (Over the next 36 hours we would collect more than 8 ounces of water from this leak.) The winds picked up around midnight. Owen turned on the wind speed indicator. It was blowing 20 plus knots. I went to bed alongside Griffyn in the V-berth. Owen would be on the settee until the storm passed. I don't know what time it was when I woke up with a stomach ache. The boat was whirling, the waves were huge - seconds of zero G. Madrona was pulled away from the anchor one direction, healing deeply then swung around and pulled the other direction again healing deeply. It's hard to sleep when your bed feels like a carnival ride without seat belts. I'm always glad to sleep with another body - a warm buffer from the cold damp walls of the V-berth. The winds howled loudly, the halliards swatted the mast. I felt anxious, sweaty and a little scared. I looked out at Owen. He was prone on the settee. 

I couldn't tell if he was awake or asleep. He had set two anchor alarms and a watch alarm to go off every 15 minutes all night so he could check our position, the wind speed, listen for problems and look at our neighbors. I didn't want to wake him. I got up and took 1/2 a tablet of Stugeron (stronger sea-sickness medicine). The rain was pounding. I looked around for drops (leaks). The bowl on the nav station was half full. I emptied it, adjusted it and stumbled back to bed. Thank God for narrow walk ways and lots of hand holds (a mast, rails along the ceiling and above lockers.) 

I rolled around for an hour falling in and out of sleep. I was awoken by a woman's voice on the radio. She called, "Attention Fleet, this is Georgia J, we've broken our anchor. We are drifting. We are disoriented and don't know where we are." Then there was radio silence. She sounded less panicked than I thought I would be in her situation. I wondered where her boat was. Was it anywhere near ours? I looked up at the port lights, it was a very black night. About 1/2 an hour later she called, "Our head sail is half out, it's jammed and we've run out of ideas on how to bring it in. Can anyone give us suggestions?" I drifted off. Owen told me later that another boat had gone to their rescue.

Around dawn I woke to hear David on Puddy Tat calling Kudana. He asked, "How do I reach the authorities? Philip V is 20 feet away. No one is aboard." Then I heard, "Zulu Lima Mike, Zulu Lima Mike." I fell back asleep.  Puddy Tat, a 42 foot cat had deployed two anchors the night before. They put out a "Bahamian mooring" - which uses two anchors - an pretty secure anchoring system designed to keep a boat from dragging in any position. Some time near dawn, the 80 foot fishing trawler "Phillip V", which had been moored near us, dragged 1/2 a mile through the anchorage. David and Sylvie (Puddy Tat) had to get out in the maelstrom and lift the bahamian mooring, move their vessel and set the anchors again. The owner of Philip V had been reached. He drove the trawler to the fuel dock. It must have cruised past our boat on it's way to Puddy Tat. We never heard if other boats were damaged (Postscript - it did hit at least one other boat).

The next day it poured all day, the gusts hitting 30 knots. Owen told me the highest winds he saw the night before were steady upper 40s. Gusts were in the 50's.  If there were gusts up to 60's I think more boats would have dragged. The securitee warnings predict for an area, since we are in a bay with foothills surrounding us (near the ocean), the warnings for our area include the coast line. The winds probably were in the 60 knot range near the unprotected waters along the coast. 

Our beds felt very damp that morning. There was new leak in the V-berth which dripped the whole width of the mattress (along the grab rail). We cancelled school today and put out more towels. We were cold. I decided to bake to warm us up. I made bread, cinnamon rolls and cookies. The baking took all day. Having the oven on all day did heat the boat, but it also caused water to condense out of the air onto colder surfaces. The bronze port lights dripped steadily throughout the day - all over the boat. The cabin house walls in the v-berth also dripped onto two corners of the mattress. We didn't find these spots until bedtime for Griffyn - they were soaked and there wasn't much we could do about it. It was still raining. When I decided I couldn't stand the sheets that came with the boat (and got rid of them), I also got rid of the mattress cover. We have been using a fleece blanket as a mattress cover below the sheets since then. That fleece against the wet mattress has helped keep our sheets drier than a standard mattress cover would. Fleece is both good and bad on a boat. If it is exposed to air or body warmth regularly it stays pretty fresh and dry-ish. If you stow it away and it gets the slightest bit damp from moist air - it sours badly - worse than cotton (Postscript - we have fixed those new leaks - and things stayed very dry in heavy rain subsequently - Amen).

When you don't have eggs or butter you can eat chocolate cake. (We have requests for this recipe every time we share it.)

Craving Chocolate Cake (originally from S/V Jack Nesbitt, made more chocolaty by me)

Sift together in a large bowl:

1/4 c Cocoa

1 1/2 c Flour less 1 Tbsp.

1 tsp Baking Soda

1/2 tsp Salt

Add:

1 c Sugar

Mix well. In a small bowl mix together:

5 tbsp Oil

1 tsp Vinegar

1 c Water, cold

Pour liquids into solids and beat just until glossy (not too much). Bake 35 min. at 350 degrees F/180 degrees C. Makes one layer of a round cake. Double recipe for two layers and bake 45 min. 

Waiting for NZ immigration, plus Kale Salad

March 6 - 16

We had submitted our Visitor Visa Extension Application to NZ immigration a week ago and heard only that they wanted more stuff. Every day Owen got up and checked his email hoping for some answer - our time here was running out. Owen felt compelled to get the steering pedestal fixed so that if we were denied we would at least be able to steer our way out of NZ waters (as safely as possible during hurricane season.) Friends kept reassuring us that we would get an extension, "They can't send you out during hurricane season - there's no where to go."  But still Owen worried, checked his email and worked on the pedestal. 

He had to completely rebuild the pedestal - it couldn't be repaired. The aluminum cap of the steering column was also cracked, but mostly intact - that could be repaired with aluminum putty and some reinforcing steel plates. He designed a new pedestal to be made out of wood and plexiglass. (pictures). He cut the wood at the local wood shop and brought it back to the boat. As each engineering problem was solved, a new problem was discovered - for instance, after measuring everything precisely, drawing up plans, cutting the wood, gluing it and installing one half of it, - he found that the teak cockpit floor was cupping. The pedestal had to be adjusted or remade. He worked from dawn to dusk on the pedestal everyday that it didn't pour down rain - there have been a lot of rainy days. Everyday the cockpit was full of power tools, hand tools, sand paper, carving tools, appoxy, glues, aluminum putty, metal plates, etc. We could barely enter or exit the cabin without getting in his way. And still we heard nothing from Immigration.

Apparently this is an unusual "summer" for NZ - it's much rainier and cooler than usual. The last three weeks have felt more like Seattle (in the fall) than any form of summer I have ever known. We are cold when we wake up, cold during the rain and cold when we go to our damp beds to sleep. I have come to one certain conclusion, I could never live on a boat in the Pacific Northwest. The most frustrating part about the rain is that it is almost always a gale when it rains, so we cannot collect water and we are stuck inside the boat hoping the anchor will hold. 

The list of things that needed to get fixed loomed before we sailed anywhere and with the number of rainy days we were experiencing, we couldn't count on any specific number of repair days. Everything became unpredictable. If only Immigration would let us know. Owen started calling them. "We're working on it," they would say. Owen was no longer available to teach school - things had to be fixed and the dry sunny days were becoming infrequent. I needed a Math and History curriculum for Tamsyn and workbooks for Griffyn. We needed a new home school plan short one teacher. Flexibility was the issue, so I started only teaching on days when we had to stay in the boat because getting off the boat was a matter of sanity (as well as getting supplies). I tried to teach 5 out of 7 days of the week but no longer paid attention to which days those were. And because our work days don't end at 5 PM rather they end at dusk we were sleeping later and we started school after breakfast whenever that was.

Griffyn burns holes in his shoes, rips through his clothes, and is growing. Tamsyn is more gentle, she simply outgrows her things like a weed in a wetsuit, (4 inches this year.) When I was invited to go with Sylvie & David (S/V Puddy Tat) and Bob & Dawn (Sylvie's parents on S/V Kudana) in their borrowed car (from Don, S/V Spirit of Yami Yami) I couldn't pass it up. I have quite a list of things I'd like to find at "pop shops" (the thrift stores) rather than buy new. This is the first country we have visited that has thrift stores. Bob & Dawn picked me up in their dinghy that cool misty morning on our way to shore. The mist turned to rain as we huddled under the awning at the Opua Cruising Club waiting for Sylvie & David. David rowed slowly through the rain - his outboard on the fritz. After they docked, we walked over to Don's car and put our purses and jackets next to the enormous 175 lb. anchor in the trunk. (Just carry an anchor in your trunk next winter - it works better than sand bags - and if you get stuck you already have the tow hook.) Don's anchor has an tiny cotter pin holding the shaft of the anchor to its  head. Imagine a 175 lb. anchor (that's a huge anchor) resting at the bottom of a brackish river, attached to 300 feet of chain. Then imagine 40 knots of wind blowing a 40 ton ketch around. I can see a weak spot. The safety of the whole boat was resting on the strength of this little rusty cotter pin.

None of us are big people but the car definitely bottomed out as we drove out of the parking lot. The opp shops are run by volunteers, retired women who totaled purchases by hand - and credit cards weren't accepted. I found nice clean sheets ($3) and lovely pillow cases ($1) and cool kids clothes for a dollar (1 kiwi dollar = 80 cents U.S.) I sure miss having a house to fill. I love thrift stores, there are always a few things that attract my attention. I have to pick them up, to feel them and smell them. I imagine the object in my kitchen or bedroom. I want to know who used them before me. I can see a hand on an old egg beater turning it. I love that whatever I find - it is really cheap. I can afford it. I love that I am not part of the big new consumer market - rather that I am helping a local charity. And if I make a mistake with a shirt, I didn't invest much, I can give it to a friend. I don't worry about getting a spot on it.

At the paper stores, I found school work books for the kids (beginning reading, problem solving, fractions, spelling, vocabulary, and grammar). This stuff was new and expensive ($150.00 - but still much cheaper than the $250 / week tuition at the local 'public' school). We hit the hardware store, the grocery store and then checked out an organic market on the way back. I found Kale!!! We haven't had kale since the U.S. It's always a full day when I get a ride to go shopping. Sylvie and David were so kind, they told me not to rush at each store we visited. I was the only one with lists. We arrived back at the dock at 6:30 PM. I had bought a lot of groceries, I had too much for a ride with another couple. Dawn sat with Tamsyn and Griffyn on Madrona while Owen drove our dinghy out to get me. By the time we got home, dropped Dawn off at Kudana, and unloaded it was near 7:30PM and everyone was hungry.The kids really wanted to see what I had bought for them. Dinner would wait. Here's our favorite Kale salad.

Kale Salad (4 servings)

Kale, 1 bunch

Virgin Olive Oil (non-virgin will also work)

Nuts, roasted chopped (pecans are best, but walnuts or cashews work)

Dried Fruit, chopped (prunes are best, but apricots, craisins or raisins work)

1/2 tsp. Salt (or more)

Black Pepper to taste

Parmesan Cheese, finely grated

1 Egg, hard boiled & chopped

Balsamic Vinegar

Steam the Kale until wilted (5 minutes in boiling water - covered). Drain and chop into bite size pieces. Put into a large serving bowl. Pour the Olive Oil over the Kale until it is fragrant plus a little more. Then add the Balsamic Vinegar slowly tasting it. It should be sweet and tart but not over-powering. Add salt and pepper. Dry roast a large handful of pecans in a heavy frying pan over low heat until they are fragrant. Add to the bowl. Add a large handful of chopped prunes. Add the chopped egg. Toss everything well. Sprinkle Parmesan over everything until it is all covered. Toss again. Serve. 

While Owen worked on the pedestal, I spring cleaned. I had not had the time or the motivation to really scrub the bathroom since we bought the boat. In the beginning, in La Paz, we had too many other more pressing projects before we sailed across the Pacific. In French Polynesia and Tonga we needed to sight see - that was the point of the trip right? But here in NZ, stuck in the boat for days on end, I had to get serious about that little room that smelled all too often. I had found a squirt bottle on the last shopping trip (I couldn't find one in French Polynesia and all of ours had rusted). I had also found "Simple Green".  I now had rolls of paper towels, a vinegar and water solution in a squirt bottle, and Simple Green in a squirt bottle. 

I was finally prepared to tackle a big cleaning job. (In Tonga, Griffyn had broken the head. He had enjoyed making a brown fountain shoot up above the bowl of the toilet after her pooped that day as he pushed and pulled on the handle. The poop went everywhere. Of course we had fixed the head and cleaned thoroughly but the head in a boat is a tight space and it's hard to get everywhere especially without a squirt bottle. Today I would try again. I wanted to 'know' what was in and around my bathroom. I cleaned everything. I polished the brass, I dusted the vented doors, I washed the walls and the wood work. And I left nothing on the toilet untouched. It smelled good in there and now we would have a new routine every time we flushed. After flushing #1 - squirt the bowl with the vinegar water solution (vinegar dissolves calcium deposits which stink as they build up), after flushing #2 - scrub the bowl with Simple Green and flush again, then squirt with the vinegar and water solution.

Inspired by my shiny success in the bathroom, I continued to clean. There are 26 vented doors on this boat - each collects dust on it's slats. I hate dusting, but in a boat, such a small cramped space, clean feels more spacious than dirty, dusty or cluttered. We work daily at reducing the number of items on this boat. Every time we go to shore we bring a couple items off the boat. The free box at the laundromat has provided us with tons of reading material - which we must read and return as quickly as possible lest the already packed book shelves breed. 

Free clothes have been my downfall. I have a hard time resisting free things in general, but clothes that fit me and look half way decent are almost impossible to resist. I bring them home, try them out and if I don't absolutely love them (and am willing to get rid of something similar) bring them back to the laundromat. I have found pants, shirts, shorts, jackets, a purse/backpack, bathing suits, undershirts, foul weather gear, hats, shoes - all in very good shape. If you are about to purchase a boat for a long cruise - don't bring too many clothes they all sour or get mildewy anyway. And you will either find free things or buy souvenir clothing along the way. Or you will want to buy all the gorgeous tropical fabrics and make your own things. (I wanted to buy a bolt of fabric in Tahiti, but settled for 8 meters of two different floral patterns).

The next day it was sunny so I decided to really look into the wet locker. Our foul weather coats and pants had mildewed a couple times now since we've been on this trip. Since we have been in NZ, I've been opening up that closet - leaving the doors ajar - every time we left the boat. And still our jackets and pants - even our boots were covered with small black specks. I was so frustrated. I pulled everything out, wiped the locker down with Dettol (an anti-fungal and anti-bacterial solution), taped over the seam in the removable floor board,  soaked all the foul weather jackets, coats, pants, and boots in Dettol and hung them out to dry in the sun. (Of-course it wasn't sunny long enough to thoroughly dry the jackets so they hung around inside the cabin for a couple days as it rained.) I hate this weather. 

3 days before our Visitor Visas expire, we get the official email - our Visitor Visa extension has been approved. The pedestal is not finished. It's still raining. 

Shaken ... not stirred

So the storm is winding down.  We made it but was didn't get much sleep.  We didn't drag an inch.  Our top sustained winds were around 50 knots.  Many other boats did drag, including the 100 foot trawler Philip V - which was anchored near us - it dragged 1/2 a mile, and ended up right next to S/V Puddy Tat.  One boat had its anchor actually break - then their jib unfurled and shredded.  Oops.

Anyway - we're moving slow.  Carrie made bread and cinnamon rolls, and we watched The Mummy for our "snowstorm" day off afternoon movie.

More soon.

Owen

Storm Warning - is this summer in N.Z.?

Hi all,


Just touching base to say that we're getting ready for a storm here in the Bay of Islands.  Forecast for the Brett area (which we are in) is for 50 knots, with gusts in the mid-60 knot range.  Oh joy.


We've got out our 75 lb. spade, and 130 feet of chain in 20 feet of water.  So hopefully we'll be good.  Everybody here is quite on pins and needles tonight. We'll check in when it's over in a day or two.  


Going to the Madrona cinema this evening.  Hope you all are well back home and abroad.


Owen, Carrie, Tamsyn & Griffyn

Morning Fog & Ants & Securite Warnings

February 28 - March 5

Griffyn woke me up this morning to see the fog. We were socked in. It was a completely still sunny morning. The sun, low in the foot hills north of us (upstream) was just peeking. Everything was covered by large drops. It was chilly. The wet deck felt cold on our bare feet as we walked around the cabin house shivering, watching the fog lift all around us. 

We have been battling ants for some time now, the ants we brought with us from Tonga. We didn't drag our fruit and veges through the water (off the side of our dinghy on our way from the market) as we should have. And we brought lots of critters on board. After we noticed the ants crawling off our pineapples, we started to submerge our fresh produce. The bananas were a haven for everything from large millipedes to huge spiders and of-course ants. The only pests that really moved in were the ants. We have successfully killed 4 nests now. There was a nest under our starboard winch in the cockpit, a nest in a hole near the galley on the port side of the cabin house, a nest in a food storage locker under the starboard settee and a nest under a large gray sail bag in the bow - that one I killed today!!  It was completely exposed once I picked up the sail bag. I squashed the queen, the eggs and every single ant I could find. I keep scratching my head and clothes. It feels like they are crawling all over me - ugh. 

I have discovered, I relish killing ants almost as much as nonos (and of-course mosquitos.)  (Postscript - The ants are gone!)

In Waipapa (a small town beyond KeriKeri, 1 hour north of Opua) on the first Friday of each month at 7PM, there is a Ceili (pronounced Kalee) a Scottish/Irish Line Dance (with a caller who calls the steps out for everyone). The 'Yachtee Shuttle' driver who lives in Opua and usually goes to the Ceilis, offered to drive his shuttle to the Ceili.  So back in January, the kids and Owen along with the family from S/V Pegasus danced at their first Ceili. I stayed home that night just too tired to go. Each family brought something to share (Owen brought chocolate covered short bread) which all the kids gobble up. Around 11PM, Tamsyn, Griffyn and Owen came back jumping up and down excited about all the live music and dancing. Tamsyn described the most amazing dance in which the dancers form the parts of a sail boat, the men were the main sails and the women were the mizzen sails and they dance around each other as the boat sails. Owen told about dancing a traditional old line dance we have all seen in the opening scene of 'Pride and Prejudice' where Kiera Knightly and her sisters first meet Mr. Bingly. Griffyn and Tamsyn were so excited that they had to eat a small meal before they could settle down enough to feel tired. 

Some how we managed to miss the Ceili in February. We just weren't listening to the morning net and missed the announcements until the Saturday morning after. That day I got a calendar and highlighted the next Ceili (March 2nd). I was determined not to miss it again. We listening to the morning net all week. We tried to meet up with the Yachtee Shuttle driver on Wednesday, but he didn't show at his regular time. On Friday morning, the shuttle driver announced over the VHF that he would not be driving to the Ceili - there wasn't enough business this month. He has cancelled his service until April. We were all heart broken, myself especially. I plan to bring a camera to the next one and share it with you.

"Securite Securite Securite" (pronounced with a French Kiwi accent: 'Say-cur-e-tay')

Have I mentioned the winds? or the rough seas or the rain showers or the swells or the gusts?

We must get a gale here every week at least. Perhaps the shuttle driver didn't want to go to Waipapa for the Ceili because a 45 knot gale was expected and he knew no yachtee in their right mind would leave their boat. 

March 4th was a cold Friday morning. The barometer had dropped. There wasn't a breath of wind. The water was so calm that everything sat as still as if we were on land. It was erie, considering we weren't. Owen was chilled. He suggested that I bake today so that we would have bread (in case we were trapped on our boat for the weekend.) He taught Math while I put yeast, sugar and warm water into my large plastic canister. The nonos bit my ankles. The barometer dropped again. After I kneaded my second batch of dough and both were rising (about noon), we decided to made a quick trip to shore for butter, fresh fruit and vegetables. The kids had brought their scooters and were racing around in the parking lots. When we told Griffyn it was time to get back to the boat (only 30 minutes on shore) he lost his temper. I was looking out at the water across the marina when Tamsyn started to cry, holding her head. We ran over to her and asked her what happened. Griffyn had rammed his scooter into her while she was petting a dog. She had a scrape on the side of her head. We stormed over to Griffyn who was crying also and demanded to know what had happened. He admitted that he had driven in to Tamsyn on purpose because he wanted to ride his scooter longer. I was so upset I wasn't sure what to do. We had to get back to the boat. We grounded him and took his scooter away while applying fresh raw meat to Tamsyn's head. In New Zealand there is a law against spanking a child. If a child says he was hit by an adult the adult can go to jail. Hmm.

When we returned to the boat, we raised and secured the motor and the dinghy. I made lentil soup for lunch and finished baking (dinner rolls, two loaves of bread and cinnamon rolls.) The securite warnings came over the VHF regularly now each slightly altering an updated weather forecast. In each case, the winds were expected to get a little higher. The barometer dropped again. Owen checked his email to see if our Visa Extension had been approved. He got an email that said they needed more documents by Tuesday at 2 PM or we would have to start over. The Visa Extension form for visitors to New Zealand was 25 pages. Owen remarked that it was harder, required more details about his life, than the annual taxes for the IRS. He was a little stressed that they wanted more documents - copies of our passports, boat papers, things that were not requested on the application. He would have to go ashore and find a copy machine on Saturday and hope that his documents would arrive in Aukland before Tuesday. It was a bit of a downer, we had heard how easy it had been for other boaters and were not thrilled about having to risk leaving the boat during a gale. 

At 4 PM David (a local fisherman) stopped by our boat offering us two kicking snapper. We accepted and thanked him. Owen cleaned the snapper and cooked us dinner. While Owen cleaned the fish, Griffyn asked lots of questions. Owen showed him the parts of the fish. I could hear them above me while I was below in the V-berth. I was  still feeling badly about what Griffyn had done to Tamsyn. Owen and Griffyn were so gentle while they were cleaning the fish, so good to one another. 

I wanted to bring some fresh cinnamon rolls to David. This was the 4th time he had shared his catch with us. Owen was hesitant, the water was getting rough, the sky was darkening. But I felt so dreadful, I needed to do a good deed to make my day better. Owen agreed to go, so we tried to lower the motor onto the dinghy. The waves were bouncing the boat up and down as much as three feet. It was hard to position the motor so that it's blades wouldn't pop the dinghy as it was being lowered. We finally managed and everyone piled in. I brought 4 large warm cinnamon rolls to David. He was very pleased. Then we went to visit Sylvie and David (S/V Puddy Tat), they always welcome us and I needed a glass of wine. She and I talked about Griffyn's behavior and she agreed that a firm hand was necessary. That night we we put him in the 'dog house' and explained the new rules. 

Owen took the bimini, the rain catcher and the clothes rack down, so they wouldn't blow away. He tidied the cockpit. He stowed things that could roll. By midnight there was still no wind, the barometer continued to drop. We went to bed. Many boaters had napped during the day to be able to stay up all night - to be awake when the gale hit. 45 knots is the highest wind advisory we had heard in New Zealand. Sometime in the morning the winds began to blow. I woke up, Owen had moved to the starboard settee (closer to the GPS unit which is supposed to beep if our anchor drags). I was feeling a little seasick, the V-berth was pitching and rolling. The winds were howling through the shrouds, the halliards were slapping the mast hard. As we rolled one direction, I could hear the anchor chain stretching out, each metal link creaked as it pulled against it's neighbor, transferring the metallic sounds up through the hull. The boat healed deeply as the end of the chain yanked on the anchor. I held my breath, would it hold? A bucket crashed above rolling along the deck. The anchor held. The boat heeled deeply again, this time the other direction, the chain links crunched. We held. After a few bouts of this I was able to relax a little, I knew Owen would get me if he needed my help - if he woke up. I kept falling in and out of sleep until dawn. The winds had calmed.

Saturday March 5th, Owen had to go ashore to send more visa paperwork. He left the boat after Math class. He warned me that the swells would increase as the tide turned, I was to expect to feel a significant change in the waves. I started Griffyn's reading lesson while Tamsyn wrote about what she liked about La Paz. It was hard to concentrate, the winds were gusting higher. I finally gave up on the lessons and went up to the cockpit and turned on the wind speed indicator. The water was choppy, the swells higher. I looked behind our boat expecting to see S/V Far Star but he was way way behind us, just then someone came on the VHF saying a boat was definitely dragging. Far Star was so far behind us I thought he must have moved. We tried to hail him, but he didn't answer, we tried again, "Kennedy are you there?" Then we saw him on the bow working with his anchor. I felt anxious, where was Owen? I went down to check our GPS to see if we had drug. It wasn't on! I couldn't turn it on! Damn. I decided we would have to keep watch in the cockpit while Owen was gone (Griffyn and I above and Tamsyn below.) The winds were so loud we couldn't hear the radio in the cockpit.  Bob (S/V Kudana) was able to reach Far Star and Kennedy (S/V Far Star) had dragged. He thought his anchor, plowing up the river bed, would catch so he let it drag, but it didn't. When he was in 14 feet of water, he put out a second larger anchor with 200 feet of chain and it stuck. The wind indicator was beeping regularly now (it beeps at 30 plus knots.) I felt awake like I hadn't felt since we sailed into the Bay of Islands. 

I kept measuring our position in relation to other nearby boats (S/V Kudana and a German boat south of us.) The waves rushing past our boat were so loud that I kept looking for our dinghy. Owen didn't show up for another hour, while we sat watch and listened to other anxious calls on the radio. S/V Spirit of Yamiyami was dragging. Yamiyami is 50 plus feet and it's windlass isn't working. Don can't pull the chain alone. Two other boaters had jumped into their dinghy's and rode over to help Don. They just got it under control before it hit another boat. Finally I saw Owen coming across the water. He stopped at the aluminum French boat and told them they were dragging before he came home. When he got on board we quickly raised the motor and the dinghy. There was a white boat just ahead of the German boat (directly in front of us) that was dragging a lot. When the white boat was much too close to the German boat, the owner finally pulled anchor and moved the boat away. We breathed a sigh of relief. The German boat was unattended - no one on board. If they dragged, they would hit us.  Owen decided it was time to put out bumpers and pull the dinghy up on deck (so it wouldn't be crushed if the German boat let loose). The wind was now topping 40 knots regularly - it was hard to stand on deck. We were holding steady. Later that day the winds calmed and I felt exhausted.

Postscript - the Visa extensions came through.  Yeah!

Boy Noises, Hiking to Paihia, Helping Puddy Tat, Winds that Drag

February 23 - 27

Every morning Griffyn wakes up before us all and goes up on deck. He shouts, "waves coming!" as boats come near. We are anchored in the middle of a river - boats are always going by. Early in the morning it is mostly small fishing boats who wave as they go by. Griffyn shouts out to everyone - a true Irishman - ne'er a one goes by without his pronouncement. After seeing what is happening outside, he comes back down and begins to set up a war. He has a tons of figures, he collects small sticks and other sharpish things (swords and other weapons). He can spend an hour setting up his two armies and 10 minutes in a whirlwind of explosive sounds deciding the battle. Griffyn has an amazing array of boy noises. He loves to ambush any unsuspecting or sleepy person exiting the head in the morning. He loves to spit loudly over board (it is banned indoors unless brushing his teeth - we can't seem to stop those explosions - but generally they hit their target.) He reminds us a lot of Calvin (& Hobbs). He loves to tell stories (it is hard to stop the story once he has your attention.) He keeps me chuckling if not outwardly - always on the sly.

School is going well - this couple of weeks the elective subject is History / Geography. Mostly the kids are learning about U.S. History (Tamsyn gets a little world History too). A couple of our Art days have become Hiking Days. We were feeling restless after being sick and so we went for a hike along the waterfront, from Opua to Paihia. It's listed as a 2 1/2 hours (one way) hike - it took us all day. It is a beautiful hike (not as stunning as the last one) but lovely - through mangroves at high tide, lowland forest, back yards and sandy beaches. No one owns the beaches (high tide to low tide and more) so we can walk along the water anywhere in New Zealand. We walked to a camp ground where there is a small play ground. The kids played there while I sat at a picnic table and stared out at the water waiting for Owen (who took pictures along the way) to catch up. It feels so good to stretch your legs, feel the heart working, and breathe deeply.

Starting out along the shore in Opua.

We loved these flowers.

Here there be dragons.

Exploring...

Mind the dinosaurs...

Intrepid hikers.

A peek into the Bay of Islands from a rise on the trail.

You remember this....

Mangroves at high tide.

The yellow brick road.

Primeval.

Watch out she'll bite your head off.

Being in one place - New Zealand - for a long time (it will be 5 months when hurricane season in the tropics ends and we can sail North again), has been a bit hard psychologically. This is a small space, we get seasick on the windy days as the boat bounces funny at anchor, and then it rains, but not enough to collect water - which means Owen hauls 40 lb. gerry cans of water to the boat from the dock every week. We can only do laundry (when we have enough water on board) on days that aren't rainy or too windy, which means that we do not change sheets weekly or even every two weeks. We cannot go to shore when ever we want, some days it is just too windy. We don't shower on deck (too windy) like we did in the tropics or below deck like we did on passages. It's too cold here. We pay for hot water showers ashore about twice a week, so we itch now and then and it isn't just from the nono bites. We have bedhead. It feels like camping and that gets old when you are not distracted by sailing to a new island, or exploring your way around a new town, or fighting head winds. The things we worry about - boat repairs, the high cost of everything, our diet, dental check ups, a mammogram - pray on us. A local cruiser went to a dentist here and was charged $380 for a single "temporary" filling. She was supposed to come back in a month and pay another $400 to get the "permanent" filling. What the hell is a "temporary filling?" She hasn't gone back. I don't even want to check on what a cleaning would cost for 4 people. We are in the "first world" once again. I read in "Latitudes & Attitudes", a sailing rag, that the delivery costs of their baby (in a hospital) in Fiji or Tonga (a 'third world' country) was only 50 cents!  Medical care is completely socialized here - but we are foreigners. Maybe we get special prices. The kids are both loosing baby teeth so often these days that I figure we have some time before their adult teeth need a good cleaning. We brush and floss daily.

Our friend, Sylvie (S/V Puddy Tat), is an artist who makes her living selling her paintings online. She was born in Rhodesia (now Zimbabwee) and has had to flee her country twice (due to political unrest between whites and blacks) leaving everything behind. She seems well suited to the cruising lifestyle. She has found that less of her paintings go missing (via standard international mail) if they have children's drawings all over the envelopes. So she is paying Tamsyn and Griffyn to make pictures on her manilla envelopes. Tamsyn and Griffyn love their first payed job. David (S/V Puddy Tat) asked Owen to run their engines (a catamaran has two engines) for them while they were on South Island visiting with family. David said his engines needed to be run daily for 15-20 minutes in the morning to keep the batteries charged. So Owen was over at Puddy Tat every morning for the last 10 days - some of those days were cloudy and rainy and their single small solar panel wasn't generating enough power to keep their frig/freezer running and store enough to charge the battery bank. So towards the end of their vacation, Owen was spending as much as two hours a day over at Puddy Tat. (They left us some cash and food as a thank you.) Once again, I am grateful that we have 4 large solar panels. 

The local elementary school in Opua, held a regatta (like a carnival fundraiser) Saturday morning. Tamsyn and Griffyn bought tickets (for unlimited time) to two inflated rides (the giant slide and a pirate ship) while Owen and I wandered around and watched races. Every New Zealand event seems to have a sausage sizzle - think bangers and mash. (Kiwis do not like spices or too much flavor - bangers are finely ground meat with lots of added cereal and few spices.) There were tables piled high with stuff for sale (like rumpled old clothes at a rummage sale), raffle tickets for 'meat packs' (packages of assorted frozen meats for a BBQ), and races: dinghy races, swimming races (all ages) and the most anticipated race - the raft race (rafts made by kids). One raft made of bamboo trees with four highly disorganized gangly boys barely floated and the boys kept slipping off (reminding us of "Gilligan's Island"). The boys had a big bag of water balloons aboard which distracted them from winning. They came in 5th out of 6. A miniature catamaran named 'Double Trouble' won the race. These well prepared kids had a lot of help from their adults. Another raft splashed with black and white paint made of old used gerri cans lashed to a center board kept loosing its' gerri's (which floated away and had to be retrieved by the referee boat) as it was waddled through the course. Those girls still came in ahead of 'Gilligan's Island'. By the end of the race, kids were throwing water balloons everywhere (many more balloons had appeared) and falling into the water (lots of good clean fun).

Speaking of fun....

Here Carrie & Griffyn rock out with some tunes.

These pictures are not chronological.  It just seemed a good place to put them in - editor.

Saturday the water was very choppy, by noon the winds had picked up to 35 knots. Owen, looking anxiously out towards the anchorage, saw Madrona positioned much too close to that heavy trawler, Craig Isle. So he jumped in the dinghy and drove back to her, leaving us ashore (the kids were playing with the boys from S/V Bonne Aire.) When Owen got to Madrona, our bow line had been secured to a mooring ball. Benjamin (our closest boat neighbor) had come aboard and attached Madrona - no doubt because we were dragging. (It is customary to board and secure boats in danger when the owners are missing. Owen went aboard a large cat in Atuona, on Hiva Oa, French Polynesia, that was banging into another cat, the owners of both boats were away.) When Owen boarded Madrona, she was 20 feet from Craig Island!  Owen turned on the engine and the windlass, then released the bowline from the mooring float and hauled anchor as quickly as he could. As soon as the anchor was up he raced back to the cockpit to steer her away from Craig Isle. He drove Madrona further up the river and re-anchored. Hours later when he came to pick us up, he was exhausted. I can't imagine moving the boat by myself - usually it takes both of us, one in the bow using the windlass and the other at the wheel - especially in a dicey situation. I am so grateful for Owen's quick thinking and strength - he keeps our home safe. It is quieter anchored out here and we are bracing for yet another wind storm. I have to remind myself that all this wind is much milder weather than the tropical storms fed by the warm waters north of New Zealand. That we are in fact much safer here in the Bay of Islands - than we would be in Figi, Tonga or other warm water hurricane holes.