Sailing around the world

Arrived in NZ, Bay of Islands, Opua from New Caledonia after a slow 6.5 day trip. Good progress up to Norfolk but we were pushed west which added to the miles. Running engines for passage making really sucks as far as I am concerned but we did not have much choice in the mostly light winds for the rest of the trip. We could have waited for the wind or a storm but if you are familiar with the weather in this part of the world you would burn the diesel anyday. A journey to NZ by sea where you did not encouter a storm or suffer damage is a good trip. We had a good trip.

We sailed with the current and made good time to Luganville. Not much of a town but managed to fill up with much needed dinghy fuel, after having begged and borrowed from cruisers heading back to Port Vila. Thanks, Ian, Edna and Anthony from “Squid” as well as Max from “Frasimada”. Top of the grocery list was eggs- (we got the last dozen), cheese (available only in 2 kilogram slabs) so did not get as we still have refrigeration problems, and butter (not available). We were not too impressed. What did impress was Million Dollar Point where the yanks dumped all sorts of goodies. Just dumped it into the sea rather than give it to the locals. Still the locals now make money from it as a popular dive site where all the treasures can be viewed.

We did not stay long in Luganville but headed to Oyster Island (Peterson Bay) and on the way saw the most divine bay and stopped about 7 miles short of our intended destination. Beautiful white sand and glimmering turquoise water. This proved a popular spot. We saw 2 other boats in this bay but it was not long when the whole of the rally fleet from Fiji and Tonga sailed into the bay making it about 30 boats in total. There was lots of room and we were happy to spend the evening with “Different Drummer” (Phil and Joy). Next day we headed for Oyster Island and during high tide, nervously picked our way through the narrow entrance through the reef.

This was an ideal spot, very sheltered (a hurricane hole), and internet (albeit intermittent) with a superb restaurant a few boat lengths from us. The big attraction here besides the anchorage itself was the blue holes and the coral reefs. We explored these and saw huge and colourful coral in the clear water beyond the reef on a snorkelling outing with Nancy and Burger.

We have sailed so many miles, over 33,000 now and anchored off stunning beaches. Yet after all this one of our favourite stops was the Chagras River in Colon. Such a change to be anchored in river water totally surrounded by dense vegetation with accompanying jungle sounds. It was unforgettable.

Here, on a much smaller scale and with the big boat safely at anchor we took the dinghy almost 2 miles up the river past mangroves and huge banyan trees. Dodging the remnants of old bridge buttresses where the water was forced through a narrow gap. It gave an adrenalin rush as we shot the rapids to get through against the fast flowing out going tide. The river in places was thick with patches of water cress and left only a narrow path. Slightly off track and the dinghy was behaving like a blending machine. We had to lift the motor and remove the vegetation before continuing.

Gradually the water became clearer and bluer until we reached the end. A clear blue pool of fresh water bubbling up from the spring 40’ below. A long rope hanging from an overhead branch was an added attraction. James was off like a monkey up the banyan tree roots and across the nearby branch to do his Tarzan act, swinging into the water below. I had to give it a go too. After a hesitant start nervously balancing on the branch I swung into the water, a damp squib after the anticipation.


Early next morning, catching the last of the incoming tide we were off to the other blue hole, about a mile away to the south corner of the bay. From the start this was different to the northern blue hole trip. The water was blue right from where it meets the ocean and incredibly clear all the way up to another blue, blue pool. All this fresh water could not be wasted and we went armed with buckets of washing. Having soaked it overnight we had the perfect spot for rinsing.



Drifting down with the out going flow we could appreciate all the jungle sounds and with glimpses of parrots and giant fruit bats known as “flying foxes”. They are as big as chickens and the locals catch them for their dinner. It was a memorable trip in the company of Sally and Geoff from the yacht “Grace”.

All the stops are special, for the locals we meet and also not least for the friendships we make with other cruisers from all over the world. Here we spent time with and enjoyed the company of “Grace” – Sally and Geoff, “Halekai” – Nancy and Burger, “Charisma” – Kristen and Alan, “Airwego” – Cindy and Mike, and “First Light 111” – Bernie, Diane and Claire.

It was time to head back to port Vila about 200 miles south against the prevailing winds. We had just received an email from Lloyd and Ngaire that they had booked flights to Port Vila and were joining us for a week or so.

Maurice and Sophie, with their children, Massimo and Annabelle.

Over the past year since the yacht “Timella” struck a reef in Fiji and sank, giving her three crew over to the perils of the sea, we have often thought, what if….

Along with other cruisers we sail the oceans of the world, each in our own little self contained unit. A live aboard yacht has its own power, water, gas, transport, medical, refuse, security and maintenance departments (and the list goes on). The community of cruising sailors is close knit and generally always ready to lend a hand to someone in need, never knowing when you will be needing assistance yourself. Boats and their equipment have a habit of letting you down at the worst possible moment.

We have grown accustomed to our own rigging and the sound it makes. At 15 knots there is a low hum, at 20 knots a soft tuneful whistle while at 25 knots and above the noise increases dramatically. At 25 to 30 knots, even anchored behind the shelter of a reef the waves slap frantically and buck and bounce the boat. You can hear the roar of the sea and the waves crashing against the reef. Out there in the open sea it is seriously rough.

Sailing south between the Vanuatu Islands recently put us hard on the wind into a rough sea. It was uncomfortable to say the least and after 10 hours we had had more than enough and welcomed the opportunity of anchoring in a sheltered bay for a night’s nerve relaxing rest before taking on the remainder of the journey in hopefully better conditions.

Away from the bright city lights either passage making or at a remote anchorage the night can be dark like you seldom experience ashore. The stars on a clear night are awesome but on a cloudy or dark and stormy night it can be impossible to see your hand in front of your face, let alone the horizon a few miles away. While miles out from land the dark is not too much of a problem but close to a coast line, hazard or reefs it is nerve wracking.

We have written about the reefs in Fiji and how the charts there are a little out of kilter with the navigation aids aboard. Huge bommies (coral heads) crop up at random like mushrooms, here there and everywhere.

Tucking into the shelter of a lagoon is often through a narrow pass between rock hard walls of coral where the current can sometimes run as fast as the engine will drive the boat, ripping either in or out depending on the state of the ever changing tide.

Put all these worst conditions together on one night along with a Mayday call, then consider the what if question….. What if we had been the only ones to pick up a Mayday call?

How easy is it to leave the shelter while the wind is well and truly whistling, to motor or sail into the wind and sea through reef strewn waters with still hours of darkness ahead?

No matter how much you would like to help, no matter how capable you are, no matter how reliable your equipment, it still takes a boat load of courage to haul up your anchor and leave your safe and stable position. Then dodge the coral heads, the reefs, the rip in the channels and head out into the worst of it, in the dark.

It was in conditions like this that Maurice and Sophie went out to rescue the crew of “Timella”.

Hats off to them, or maybe hats on for them. They were nominated by the New Zealand government for the United Nations award for exceptional bravery in saving lives at sea. They are about to be presented with this well deserved top award. They collect their medals at a ceremony in London in the next month or so.

I am sure all sailors everywhere will join with us in saying, “Congratulations to them both”.

See the full story of this dramatic rescue elsewhere on our website at:

http://my.opera.com/cjwilding/blog/2008/10/13/timella-rescue



Passage to Nomea

10 Sept 09

Arrived Noumea, New Caledonia. Not such a long sail at 340 miles. Made it on one tack but we had to sail hard on the wind – not as predicted, but the wind eventually freed to 60 degrees apparent. This made for a fast but uncomfortable sail for the first day in the choppy and uneven swell. Never the less we clocked up over 200 miles for the 1st 24 hours and were on schedule to do the trip in a day and a half with the wind freeing and doing 11 knots at times. With the sea settling to aft of the beam it was time to hoist the much patched spinnaker. Yep, you’ve guessed it, it lasted half an hour. Even I now have to admit that this sail is now toast. With the wind freeing even more we had to sail due south and on a dead run making our progress relatively slow.

We made the Havannah passage (a 14 miles cut through reefs) just after dark and along with head winds and miserable rain made our way to a sheltered bay and decided to park and continue the rest of the 30 mile passage to Noumea at first light.

We are now settled safely under anchor and getting on with the normal tasks after checking in, i.e. resting, cleaning and eating. Meeting up with friends (Paul, Brent and Josh) from the 50’ sloop “Montego Bay”, we enjoyed watching the very tense encounter as the SA rugby giants took on the much daunted NZ hard men. SA becoming tri nations champions with a very well deserved victory albeit a very tense and narrow one.

Our intention is to cruise the southern part of New Caledonia in particular the Isle of Pines as soon as the normal chores are completed here.

We will write about out experiences in Espiritu Santo, the blue holes and the Maskelyne’s as well as Lloyd and Ngaire’s visit to us.

James & Lorna

1st Friday in August

The dugong was here first but the cruisers began sailing into the bay at the north west corner of Epi from mid July. Everyone was jumping overboard into the sparkling clear water for the chance to swim with the friendly dugong that forages for food around the anchor chains.

At about three and a half meters the caramel coloured mythological like creature surfaces about three times for a breath then rounds its hippo like back and with a flip of its whale tail dives for the next four or so minutes to feast on the seabed grass along with a few huge turtles that are also regulars. It is an unusual looking animal. I managed to get within a meter or two when it came up for air and the rest of the time I snorkelled on the surface while it “walked” on its fore flippers on the seabed snuffling the sparse grass with nearly ten remora fish hanging off its sides waiting to suck up the scraps. I saw it snap at one of these hangers on when it appeared to get too close to the large flappy mouth.

The racers set off from the beach.
Their hollowed out logs with outriggers all cobbled together with bits of sticks and tied up with twisted vines hardly look sea worthy enough for the two to three mile stretch of open water to Laman Island. They are however surprisingly sturdy and stable. A couple sported the luxury of a go faster stripe but I’m sure all had a bailing scoop. If they could avoid the waves splashing over the 30 cm high sides the weather had conspired to fill them from the heavens while giving the spectators a day long dowsing. Such a pity to have a day of rain for this event but even so we all had a good time.

A bouquet of palm leaves served as the sail that was tied fore and aft with more bits of vine and stripped palm leaves, for the outbound leg. All rope on the island is used to tether their cows. When they reached Laman Island they ditched the sail and rowed back. They made surprisingly good speed out of the bay, one of them almost wearing his sail like a hat when his knots came undone. It didn’t hinder him too much as he finished second and next day came over to us with some pampelmousse from his garden. He didn’t want anything in return for these huge sweeter than usual grapefruits but his eyes lit up with some tins of paint that we can do without. We’re hoping multi coloured go faster stripes will see him into first place next year. Go Jim!

As I said these canoes with the stabilizing outriggers are surprisingly steady and after anchoring at another bay (about 100 meters from the shore) we had four children rowing out to the boat. The eldest 11 years with the youngest no more than two! Mothers the world over, take a tablet and lie down awhile and don’t even think about swimming lessons or life jackets. The children learn a different set of dangers here.

We went a walk through their village of basic houses constructed of wooden poles and woven palm leaf walls and roofs. No soft beds or over stuffed sofas. They sleep on the ground on woven palm leaf mats. A few of the children guided us to the gardens that were a half hour walk away through pretty much jungle following the narrow well trodden paths taking the correct fork every time there was a choice.

On the way back the troop of kids stopped to eat the cacao fruits sucking the juice from around the pips. These pips cleaned and dried are used to make chocolate but not here where they are spat out in whatever direction feels right. The best was watching these youngsters cracking open the pods (a good adult handful size) with a 60cm long machete! Holding the pod in their one hand and whacking it with the machete in the other. Somehow they still had all their fingers.

Life is simple here and full of joy and fun. The trader boat comes into the bay most days and the regular visitors on another cat signal arrivals and departure by a loud melodious drone from a conch shell. We joined in giving 3 blasts on our horn. Sounds like a duck in distress but it got lots of hoots and cheers. Soon other yachties also joined in with their hooters and tooters. The locals created a vocal hooting tooting racket especially if we were late or forgot to sound our horns. Toot toot toot, quack.

James and Lorna

Arrived in Vanuatu safely.

Some rough wet weather, some calm stuff. Lots on the nose so we didn't pick the right time to leave. Some stitching has come undone on the main so a bit more sewing to do. By hand.

Be in touch soon.

Lorna and James

Close encounters of the reef kind

We have had our moments, first hitting a sand bank where our one stub keel was stuck solid in the sand, the other hull floating free in a few feet of water. Fortunately the tide had just turned and was rising; we pushed the boat off sideways, standing in waist deep water after about 40 minutes. It is so hard to pick up the reefs as the visibility with sun reflecting makes it very difficult to see. Our charts give a good indication of where the dangers are but the positions are not exact. One minute you are sailing in 50’ of water and the next you can be on a reef. The cruisers that are familiar with Fiji say there are 2 types of sailors out here, “those who have hit a reef and those that have yet to hit a reef”.

My version is, “those who admit hitting a reef and those who lie”. We came so close on 2 occasions, once due to a misunderstanding between Lorna and me. We just missed this reef with inches to spare under our keels but I am sure a layer of anti fouling paint has gone. If it was not scraped off it was frightened off.

The other occasion was a few nights ago, we had just experienced our roughest 24 hours out here. We were anchored in a divine spot, sheltered by a reefs and a small mountain. The wind and waves could not possibly get to us. The 20 knots of wind raised barely a ripple. That was until late afternoon when the crew of Different Drummer and another cat were aboard Mind the Gap. The wind picked up to over 40 knots and we were all convinced that we were experiencing the worst of it.

What a night that was, hardly any sleep, Lorna and I did anchor watch. If anything went wrong we could deal with it right away. Just as it got dark one half of our bridle that secured the anchor chain, snapped with a bang and we felt the boat lurch. I started the engines and gingerly motored forward into the darkness and lashing rain. Lorna took in chain, unclipped the bridle and tied another piece of rope to the snapped bridle rope then reset the bridle. Unsurprisingly these events never occur at a good time but Lorna dealt with the situation very competently. It was a rough night with gusts regularly well over 40 knots. I dread to think what it would have been like without the protection as the ripples at 20 knots became waves at 40. How could they build up like that with so little water surface between us and the land and reefs? During the daylight hours we could see the wind lift the top layer of water and turn it into spray blowing it into a cloud along the water surface. When it calmed down to the mid 30s it felt like a lull.

The next day things calmed down a bit and Drummer left to head south, we decided to stay another day as did the other cat. That night at about midnight we were awoken by the anchor alarm. We always set this alarm as soon as we have anchored. This alarm is part of the GPS system, it monitors the boats position to within a few feet and if it moves out of that range the alarm goes off until it is reset or it goes back within the range setup. It was pitch black outside, no moon or stars with low cloud and a bit of rain. The only thing that was visible at the time was the lights of the other cat, now in front of us. We knew that we had swung due to a change in the wind direction.

All our observations and instruments over the next few minutes confirmed that the wind had shifted about 180 degrees. Our transoms were getting dangerously close to the reefs, about half a boat length away. The wind strength was not a concern as it was windy but not wild, in the 20 knot range.

The other cat was in a similar position but when they went to bed before the wind had shifted they were behind us. With the wind shifting they were just in front of us. We were concerned as they appeared to be getting closer to us all the time. I called them on the VHF and asked them to check if they are dragging as they were getting very close to us. As soon as they started moving forward so did we and we shortened our chain a bit so that we were a boat length or 2 clear of the reef. We did not realise that they were completely disorientated. To make matters worse they panicked. They did not have any instruments on, no depth, no wind direction, could not see their compass or land or reefs, only our lights and we were now not in front of them but behind them. They did not ask for any information but upped anchor and headed straight towards us and the reef. They were intent on getting behind us again and re anchoring near our transoms – on the reef!

Encounters of the reef kind

Lorna was desperately waving a very powerful torch about trying to point out the sand bank which lay just beyond the reef and shouting. I was shouting into the Vhf, “GO BACK, STOP, YOU ARE HEADING STRAIGHT FOR THE REEF!” To no avail, they turned close to our transom and crunched and shuddered onto the reef. The crew was frantic on the VHF – “Please help us we are on the reef” As I prepared to launch the dinghy they managed to break free as they still had their engines going. Having hit the reef once, it seemed like they were intent on coming back for more. Lorna and I launched our dinghy and with torch light guided them to a spot where it would be safe for them to anchor.

It was fortunate that the tide was rising and they were not locked hard onto the reef and subsequently suffered no more physical damage than a few scratches and minor chips to the one stub keel. More damage was done psychologically but thankfully lessons can be learnt without it being too costly. It can happen so easily and these were experienced sailors that have sailed more than halfway around the world.

Despite all the anguish there was the lighter side too. During this incident there were divers, snorkellers on the reef from the local village hunting lobsters. They were swimming along the reef just behind our boats with their torches glowing clearly under water. One or two were standing waist deep in water watching the turmoil unfold aboard the cat as they crashed into the reef. With the crew stressed and frantic, they hear this voice from one of the locals a few feet from their boat call a friendly “Bula”. What reply was he expecting? “We just wondering if you have any lobsters for sale”

Anyway we had good experience sailing to Fiji from New Zealand, others did not have it so good. Some disasters I have already written about, but there were also some scary moments as experienced by Slapdash. See their account after a few days out from New Zealand.

James

We are anchored comfortably at Blue Lagoon about 50 miles north west of Lautoka, along the Yasawa island chain. It is a beautiful spot just off the reefs that surround the island of Nanuya-Sewa. There are villages nearby as well as a number of resorts that cater for backpackers as well as the more upmarket holiday makers. We yachties are not welcome at the more exclusive resorts but we have the best of both worlds as far as we are concerned. We have great accommodation and the best of what the bays offer. Ferries and small cruise ships are regular visitors here.

We sailed north from Musket cove, island hopping and stopped at whichever bay took our fancy and some have been stunning with good snorkelling although anchoring in deep water is always a concern. We get as close to the reefs that surrounds the islands as we dare. The water is then still 50’ deep, we hope that we do not snag coral as free diving to that depth to untangle and release a stuck anchor is beyond the capabilities of Lorna and me.

James

We left Opua the same time as a rally fleet, some heading for Tonga and others for Fiji, same as us. We proceeded slowly along the rumbline. Before we knew it the fleet had gone over the horizon with their engines running leaving us far behind. By day 2 the wind had filled in a little and we overtook boat after boat. We had the spinnaker up 4 days and nights, ever since we left NZ when we overtook the leading boat. The wind died again, changed direction and we were yet again overtaken as we waited for the wind but the impatient cruisers just ran motors day and night until they were running on fumes. I keep my engines for emergencies and don't regard no or little wind as such. The leaders arrived in Fiji in the morning and we arrived that night. We had a good trip but blew out our spinnaker yet again. This time about 6 miles before the cut through the reef when entering the Fiji coast. We were reaching along quite nicely doing about 10 knots with 90 deg apparent wind angle, 22 knots of wind and the next minute bang. Well we have had that before. Again it was dark, about midnight but we cope very well with this now as we have had lots of practise.

So for all those that are green with envy consider our recent reality check. It's not all about relaxing, working on your marguarita recipes, ensuring you don't have any tan lines, lying in a hammock and doing nothing all day. You schedule your watch, sleep, eat, change sails, then do it all again, and again, and again.

Besides the routine sailing stuff, there was a major problem every day. Fix blocked toilet, try to fix broken fridge, fix solar panel lights, replace shredded fan belt on engine, no sun therefore no power, fix the SSB radio that suddenly went dead, fix the link 10 battery monitor instrument that suddenly went dead, deal with a fishing line we found wrapped around a prop and just before we left the inverter packed up. OK it's not a massively expensive item but unbugeted for nevertheless - about $130.

Everything has a knock on effect or story. Consider the simple matter of just getting another inverter. It's blowing and raining so we get the dinghy to the dock from the wet and wild ride from the boat which is out at anchor. We find a new inverter at the marine chandlers in Opua, but the plug fitting had to be adapted to fit our european style plugs. Arrange for them to hold it until we can find an adapter. Walk a half a mile to a shop, no they don't have any. Try another shop 2 miles in wet and blowy weather in the other direction. Nope they don't have one either. So the chandlers ask, "Can you drive a truck?" Borrow the truck to get 5 miles off to Pahia where they do have adapters. This minor problem now sorted and the truck safely returned, by the time we get back to the boat (hours later) it looks like we've been out swimming. I won't even go into the toilet fix but with all the problem it still beats the life we left behind.

Fix autopilot just before leaving Opua (emergency trip to Auckland by car) to brother in law Terry that sorted out the instrument. Hand steering in almost 30 knots all day from Whangarei to Opua was bad enough we did not want to do this all the way to Fiji.

Look forward from hearing from you all.

James and Lorna

We have become blasé about our sailing and every now and again get a reality check. Just before we left Opua (NZ) a boat that was planning to leave for Fiji same time as us - called '3 Amigos', hit the rocks coming into Opua (Bay of Islands) at night and sank in 3 minutes, the people were rescued but ended up in hospital.

When we left New Zealand, friends on the boat 'Scarlett O Hara' turned back with engine problems. They missed the weather window for the dash North and were therefore delayed for a week or so. They eventually left with a bunch of other boats, then, 2 or 3 days out picked up a mayday from a boat called Elusive that must have been in VHF range - that boat started to take water and sank! (We feel a bit more secure in a cat without that lump of ballast lead to drag us down) 'Scarlett' rescued them (took the couple and their son onboard) Their son had just joined them for a cruise as he was made redundant from his job in New York. Very sad for them to have lost their yacht but fortunately got off unscathed. 'Scarlett' has just now made it into Fiji, we have just spoken to them via VHF and they are fine but had a fairly rough trip encoutering bad weather along the way. Had to run before a storm that took them way off course and suffered some gear damage. We have to be really careful out here in Fiji and not relax our guard. The reefs are not all on our charts. They are treacherous, hitting one can be unforgiving. See the "rescue of 'Timella' crew" in our prevoius blog entry. Having said that we are now in a particularly nice sheltered bay just off a reef in Fiji just off Malolo island near musket cove. Check Google Earth 17.44.3S and 177.08.8E

James and Lorna

What a sailing paradise this place is! On shore, everything is available for sailors, and offshore there are some of the most beautiful anchorages in the world, the choice is staggering. We mostly headed south along the east coast, half way down the Coromandel peninsula we turned back and headed towards Auckland.

Starting from where we checked in, Opua, situated in the Bay of Islands, there are many bays and inlets one more stunning than the next, each with its own unique features or characteristics - E.g: beach, flora. The water is not as clear as some seen in the pacific islands. As a sailor what struck me most is the is shelter all along the coast. If the wind turns nasty you can anchor in a bay or cove. No matter what the wind strength or direction there is an inlet providing respite. There is also a continuous weather forecast transmitted via VHF (called “now casting”), which gives current wind and sea conditions, plus a 3 to 4 day forecast.

Places we have been and seen so far:

Bay of Islands and Hole-in-the-Wall rock: An enormous rock marking the southern side of the bay. This rock has a massive gap in the middle where the water gushes through. If you are brave and/or stupid you can sail your boat through, but you might loose more than just your mast.

Tutukaka: Moving south along the east coast Tutukaka is a great place for a stop, very picturesque, with a marina and town surrounding the bay.

Poor Knights Island: Just a few miles offshore is a marine reserve and top dive site, but we did not stop there, yet!


Whangarei: A big town (close to where we did our haul out at Norsand boat yard) with very pretty yacht basin in the centre of town, many good anchorages along the 15 mile river that leads into the town. We stopped at Smugglers cove, McLeod bay and just off Marsden cove marina.


Kawau Island: A favourite stop is Mansion House Bay, we had Christmas Day and dinner on the boat here with Renee, Lynn, Bryan, Ben and Terry.



Great Barrier Island: We sailed here after Christmas Day. It's a must see stop with ideal cruising in the most wonderful bays. We spent over a week exploring, caught snapper and were given a few crays.






Great Mercury Island: Stopped here for a New Year’s Eve party laid on by the owners of the island who welcome the yachties to their private island. Met Hayley Westenra and had a brief chat to her, what a lovely person she is, approachable, down to earth and what a credit to New Zealand.





Whitianga: Stopped at Cathedral cove. We were the envy of many of the people on the beach as they had to walk a few kilometres to get to this magnificent spot. It is not accessible by road, only by sea in good conditions. Proceeded a few k’s on to Whitianga to pick up some supplies.




Whangamata: Stopped here for almost 2 weeks. This is Lloyd and Ngaire’s home base when not sailing. They built an apartment block here and have the pent house. They overlook the beach and have breath taking views of the bay and the nearby islands (Clarks and Doughnut) Clarks you can walk to at low tide and Doughtnut has a gap in the side which you can enter by dinghy, the inside seems completely enclosed and has a tiny beach. We climbed up the inside and walked around the rim, real adventure stuff.


Lloyd and Ngaire took us out and showed us some of the local beauty spots, including Hotwater Beach, Onemana and Cathedral Cove by car. We have spent some of our best times with them, they are such generous people and superb hosts who are justifiably proud of their country.




Slipper Island: Stopped for a night great spot, lovely bay and walks.

We have had a wonderful time with family and guests on board almost non stop since we arrived. We are now on our own again, relaxing at Kawau Island’s Mansion House Bay for a few days before going on to Auckland.



James and Lorna