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| Sunset Gisborne Marina |
The stranded Captain had called into my friends' work, the fishing club, requesting local knowledge of potential crew available to help deliver his boat to Wellington, his home base. I was the only sailing person she knew!
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| Proposed route: 268 nautical miles or 496 km. |
In spite of the reasonably legit sounding excuses of the quickly departing crew, thoughts of dodgy Captain stories came to the forefront of my mind. Accompanied with gnarly sailors' accounts of that particularly notorious stretch of coastline, including a number who haven't actually survived. Decided a Nanna nap was in order before making any hasty decisions to contact potentially dodgy Captain Haddock!
Arriving at the marina late afternoon, I had an idea which boat it was, having noticed new boats earlier in the day driving by. (Boat stalking, it's what I do!) Unfortunately, my friend had left work and the gate to the marina berths was locked. Taking my time heading back to the car and contemplating my next move, a taxi pulled up near the gate with the driver pulling out bags of groceries. My eyes met with the passengers' and enlarged instantly, recognising her as Lyn Pardy: legendary sailor and author of a number of books,
one of which I had dragged back and forth across the world!
Here's the book I had:
https://www.amazon.com/Care-Feeding-Sailing-Crew-4th/dp/1929214340
I had always imagined myself to act chilled if I ever had the chance to meet someone famous and treat them like any other normal person. Instead, I was totally star-struck, stuttering my recognition of who she was and barely able to get my name out, saying I was "just Vicki," (haha)!! I did at least manage to offer assistance delivering her groceries to her boat and was able to hold a conversation after the initial embarrassment!
James, the crew-less Captain was out washing his boat when I rocked up and introduced myself. Over a cup of tea on his very nice boat, we got on easily, he seemed to know his stuff and I left with no qualms about this guy being on the list of dodgy Captains!
Next day while at work, I got the message from James: the forecast is looking good to leave 5am following morning. Yikes! My mind kicked into overdrive with the things I would need to organise: picking up and dropping off kids - Mum?! Salem's home-school work, groceries, meals and baking for family and trip, sussing out affordable return transport home, packing. I had half a day, which also required the time for a counseling session and taking the boys to their "tricking" session at the gym in the evening. Finalising planning details with the Captain was rather essential too. He had another local crew member organised, thanks to Lyn: Noah, who coincidentally was the diver that helped Antje unravel her fouled anchor chain...
https://thepurplepirateship.blogspot.com/2018/07/crewing-gisborne-to-tauranga.html?m=1
All James's sources agreed the weather and conditions looked the best window you could ask for on this run. I tracked down Antje, to get her opinion once she'd had a chance to check over her weather sources. She also agreed the weather window looked like a primo opportunity to take.
Adrenaline or stress, or both, kicked in big time, my body felt like it was physically shaking most of the day. A lot of breathing techniques learnt from the counselor were applied. In spite of this I knew it was too good an opportunity to pass up. I was also weary that if I didn't go for it, I may have a lot less courage next time. Everything I had needed to organise seemed to work in my favour.
Stress consumed any space for sleep and 3.45am came around slowly as Dad pulled up to drive me to the wharf.
We meandered out slowly in the cover of dark and continued motoring most of the morning. My nerves had settled as soon as I jumped onboard but around 9am I was reminded somewhere back there on land my boys would be arriving at school...and would I see them again?! Just like that my heart began racing again. Thankfully, Noah and James were in a conversation about the importance of living in the moment: if you consider the current moment you are in, that seems to be scary or stressful, it's likely you're actually safe. It's scary yes, but probably, you're not actually sinking to the bottom of the ocean and out of air; worrying only makes it hurt twice - assuming it eventuates!
While writing this, I decided to look into the actual numbers as there was a bit of vagueness as to the exact ratio of stress compared to actual events, this is what I found on Huffington Post, the findings from a study:
Lo and behold, it turns out that 85 percent of what subjects worried about never happened, and with the 15 percent that did happen, 79 percent of subjects discovered either they could handle the difficulty better than expected, or the difficulty taught them a lesson worth learning. This means that 97 percent of what you worry over is not much more than a fearful mind punishing you with exaggerations and misperceptions.
By Don Joseph Goewey
Contemplating these things, sitting on the boat on a sunny morning, on a silky sea while most of the country were heading off to work, I was able to put a halt on the stress and be thankful for such an awesome opportunity and rest in the knowledge that my boys were safe and happy. Now it was up to me to enjoy what I'd been given. The stress left and didn't return.
By 10am the wind had picked up from the south west and we were close reaching under full sail, giving us enough speed and encouragement to tow a line out the back. We were well rewarded with 3 skipjack tuna in close succession of each other!
As previously organised by the Captain, Noah had breakfast prepared with the ingredients he had brought along. I was on lunch, dinner duties by James. I had prepared a roast vege salad the previous day and served it up along with three ham salad buns each for the boys, knowing from experience that boys are always hungry, moreso with the salt air. James was busy plotting our course and was the last to grab his plate. Seeing the three buns on his plate he queried if it was all for him. When the answer was affirmative, he replied, "Wow, you really are in the business of growing boys!"
It was fascinating to see Mahia Peninsula from the water perspective and to see their Rocket Lab launch facility perched atop the cliff...
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| Picture: greatthingsgrowhere.co.nz |
So too, realising just how large the Hawkes Bay was in comparison to our Turanga-nui-a Kiwa bay.
Late avo, the boys decided to have a tutu (play around - kiwi slang!) with the self-steering wind vane. James was sitting on the aft platform surround, trying to fix the rudder piece into place that wasn't holding. Noah and I were in the cockpit watching, trying to figure out why it wouldn't click into place. I was trying not to crack up laughing at Noah, who was so keen to get in and have a go, he couldn't stay still, fingers twitching, he was almost jiggling on the spot, frothing at the thought of solving the problem!! They did eventually figure it out and we got to enjoy it for a time.
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| The fellas in discussion/tutu mode with sails! |
This leg was in fact part two of James's maiden voyage aboard Abel Rest. He and his brother had recently bought the 40ft steel cutter rigged sloop, Ganley Tara design in Auckland. They'd intended to sail right through to Wellington but a fuel line issue arose, causing them to call into Gisborne. Probably just as well with the other crew member getting the emergency call about his wife.
I went down for a sleep and awoke to the cooking smells of fresh fish for dinner, it was soo good!
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| Yum, thanks Noah! |
My night watch we were motoring again for lack of wind. Inspite of the constant hum, it was still a beautiful evening, and set me into a fairly poetic state of mind! Here's my one and only log entry:
"The large egg yolk coloured 3/4 moon made a brief cameo appearance between the layers of cloud. For the next hour or so I stood mesmerised on the cockpit edge entertained by the playful antics of dolphins criss- crossing phosphorus tracks through the dark, silky ocean as they swam alongside Able Rest...this is living!"
The dolphins seemed even more incredible in the dark, they almost appeared like Chinese dragons dipping in and out of the water with their long phosphorus tails!
..."Lowrance is showing a depth of 0.0m eek!! Another instrument shows 13.3m though. Perhaps the dolphins swimming under the keel are messing with the instruments! According to Lowrance, we are nearing Cape Kidnappers to our starboard side.
The moon is back, blazing a bold, bright path across the ocean to meet the stern of Able Rest."
The boys' watches were not so peaceful, they had a dormant cruise liner and log ship to avoid along with a lot of sail changes.
Another clear, sunny day arose with light winds, 8-10 knots from the NNW. The boys decided to take advantage of the conditions and have a crack at hoisting the spinnaker.
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| Much strategic talk going on! |
It proved to be a worthwhile exercise, we could enjoy our lunch in the cockpit with a smoothe downwind sailing motion, the graceful slicing through the ocean was so much better than the noisy slightly jerky engine hum. It wasn't to last, the ocean appeared to be darkening and chopping up near land and was gathering momentum towards our direction. A wise decision to pack away the spinnaker sail before it reached us 'cos fighting this massive kite in big winds with ropes whipping about is no fun at all! I had gone below to make coffees while the boys made the most of the 15-20 knots of breeze upon us.
I had just finished pouring the coffees when a strong gust gave us a good shove, causing us to heel over, tipping the coffees all over the bench and beyond! At least it had high timber edge surrounds for such an occassion, keeping the sloshing to a better catchment situation. However by the time I had caught and cleaned it all, the queezy green feeling had overtaken and sent me hurtling upstairs for the leeward edge of the boat, apologising there's no way I was going to be able to make any more coffees! They suggested helming for a while to keep my mind preoccupied. Unfortunately, the lurching feeling arose again to the throat, sending me making noises for someone to grab the helm while I aimed and positioned myself for hurling out the back. Nothing came of it unfortunately and the only way I could feel slightly better was lying down on the cockit benchseat. The boys very graciously ran around getting me seasick pills, warm gear, pillows, while they covered the watches. I felt terrible for not being able to help share the load so in an attempt to try and be supportive, I slept in the cockpit all night, occassionally checking up on the helmsman to see if he was alright.
At some stage, lasagne was heated. Ironically, the cheesy smell sent me straight back to when I was 14 or 15, in a very similar spot, off the coast of Napier. I was aboard the Spirit of NZ with 39 other students plus crew, on what was supposed to be a 10 day sail to Wellington. The weather had been so bad, we'd had to turn back to Napier for a few days but then had to gap it 'cos kids had transportation booked from Wellington. I remember walking past the galley and the cheesy smell of macaroni cheese sent me running for fresh sea air. I've only eaten macaroni cheese once, much later in life, since!
I forced down my small portion, which would've normally been very nice, at a record slow snail pace, knowing that food in the tummy is actually more of a prevention for sea-sickness and the fuel would be much needed - moreso than I realised at the time.
On Noahs' watch, he offered me some hot water to drink. Once again, downed at snail pace, in the hope it would stay down with that lasagne lurking about! It was cold by the time I got through it but the warmth at the beginning did wonders being out in the chilly cockpit, the Autumn breeze blowing through. He also gave me his phone to listen to a pod-cast, as an attempt to preoccupy my mind. I kind of zoned in and out of sleep but it definitely helped.
On James's watch, we were motoring. I must've been a lot more out to it 'cos at one stage, lying down, my leg fell off the bench seat and kicked the throttle lever, sending the engine screaming into high revs, startling me into an instant upright position, gasping, heart pumping, eyes wide like a deer in headlights! James cracked up laughing, while adjusting it back down. I mumbled sorry before collapsing back down into my semi-foetal position again; decked out with 7 layers of clothing, beanie, gloves, PVC wet weather gear on top and gumboots, you don't get to curl up that small!
The wind was up around 30-40 knots that night so the boys had dropped sails and were motoring till we'd rounded Cape Palliser, when the southerly change came.
Just before dawn, it was clear James was getting tired and I felt I could probably take the helm to give the fellas a much needed rest after their stellar effort covering my watch as well as their own through the night. We were by now running along the Wairarapa Coast and expecting to arrive in Wellington later that avo. This coastline is notorious for big surf and dodgy sailing conditions. I was hoping to catch a glimpse of one particularly famous surf spot but the visibility was not in my favour due to the cloud cover.
By the time the guys had recuperated enough to venture back out, looking less zombie, so too returned the wind: 25-30 knots (50-61 km/hr approx) straight from the south, with 3-4 metre swells from the same direction.
Most of that day was a bit of a blur to all of us, filled with rubbish snacks when we could and dealing with the conditions! Nearing the harbour entrance mid afternoon, we decided to pull the sails and motor in. A potentially dodgy situation, we didn't fix the boom on the traveller enough to stop it from lethally swinging side to side. I turned us into the screaming wind, we were bucking up and down the steep waves, closely compacted together, sending the boom dangerously back and forth. I couldn't leave the helm to tighten the sheets. Screaming "sorry!" and "watch out!" was to no avail over the noise of the wind. Just trying to keep the bow steady into the waves was a mission enough. Noah and James were tethered to the jack lines of the boat but one whack from the boom while trying to pull the sails down would've been all over for them. It was a horrible helpless feeling as they stumbled, slipped and dodged all the while getting smashed by waves. Such a relief to have them in the safety of the cockpit, we could then head towards the entrance.
Taking turns in the different positions and getting accustomed to it, as the conditions eased, it gradually evolved into a competition of who held the highest speed record surfing down a wave, accompanied with plenty of hooting!
The boys did an awesome job of tidying the boat as I helmed us across the bay.
James then took over, pulling us into Chaffers Marina, right in the centre of downtown Wellington. We were welcomed with live music pumping from the annual Homegrown Music Festival. The party atmosphere from festival goers wandering along the waterfront only added to the surreal exhileration of mission complete.
For three individuals to have never met and within 36 hours or so be sailing/living together within close confinement for three days, it was amazing how effortless it was to get on well and work efficiently together as a team, all contributing something different.
Respect for the ocean and weather conditions was applied when due, but I loved that no one was intense and was just fun. The number of times I was at the helm trying to steer straight into the waves and wind, feeling sorry for the boys from the comfort of the cockpit, while they were tethered up front trying to pull sails down, getting dealt to by the waves. Yet their positive reaction quickly changed my mind, as their hooting and yahooing reached my ears, they had me laughing, getting back from their mission, eyes wide, big grins, fully pumped. Because they were having the time of their lives, I could relax and go, "yeah, this is awesome!"
I felt very blessed to have been a part of this mission: the beginning of an exciting new mission for James, learning more about sailing and sailtrim tactics from the very knowledgable Noah, and all round good times it felt like we were the dream team!
Not least to mention that passage was the best sailing I'd ever had..so glad I didn't pass up the opportunity!
