Maramaratotara Bay, and Whitianga Town

[Kyle]There was another rough day coming in the forecast. Ordinarily, we would have been content to hunker down through it. This time, however, we had the additional complication of being really low on water. The next place we could fill was at Whitianga, which was far enough down the Coromandel's eastern side that, apart from the sail there, there wouldn't be much time leftover to do much else. The good thing was that since the wind was supposed to be strong, we shouldn't have too much problem eating up the miles.

That was the theory, anyway. Of course, it didn't work out like that.

Almost as soon as we cleared the protection of Great Mercury Island, we ended up with between 50% and 100% more wind than the forecast. That wasn't too big a deal, because my natural cynicism had already prepared me for such a possibility. The thing that really chapped my hide was that the wind was also forty-five degrees further ahead of us than forecast as well. So now, instead of having miserable conditions where we might have to tack once or twice before making it to the downwind turn at the corner, we had to tack back and forth all morning to get to the turn. When we finally made it, we were three hours behind my original estimate for that point.

Then we didn't even get the relief of a fast, downwind sail. Instead, we bore off to a fast upwind sail. The fast part was good, but having our through-the-water speed added to the general wind made the rigging howl and kept the wind chill from climbing to the acceptable levels I was wanting. It felt so unfair to be out there shivering during what was supposed to be the hottest month of Summer.

The marina in Whitianga does not have room for catamarans, since all their berths are built too narrow to fit them. They do have the Fuel Dock (for fuel and water only) and a T-head that are open to one side (that for a fee you an use for an hour).

Our plan, since it was after business hours on a Sunday, was to tie up to the fuel dock. I would purchase some diesel from the 24-hour, automated machine, and then fill Begonia's tanks with water, while Maryanne made a quick dash to the grocery store for some perishables. Hopefully, we would be done with our respective tasks about the same time. Also hopefully, no giant tuna boat would show up and demand access to the fuel dock while we were there (The fuel dock has three other non-catamaran-sized slips available).

We didn't even get that far. Firstly, the credit card reader did not like our US-issued cards, so we could not buy fuel. Then, when Maryanne tried to leave to go to the store, she found the gate was not the usual kind that can be opened from the inside without a code, requiring me to let her in on her return. Instead, the gate was locked with several turns of a motorcycle cable padlock. There was no getting in or out. With this new information, we hastily filled our water tanks, which is what we really needed, and then proceeded to Plan B, the T-head.

Unlike the Fuel Dock, the T-head allows access to shore, albeit a convoluted one. Maryanne was off again, while I stayed behind completing the checklist, and then tidying up, in order to make space for her haul. Use of the T-head requires a small fee and overnight stays are not allowed, so she still had to rush through her shopping so that we would have enough time to find somewhere nearby to anchor before it got dark.

There is supposed to be a zone up the river, beyond the extensive mooring field, where it is possible to anchor. After spending half an hour getting there, we found any space where we could remain afloat for the whole tide cycle jammed full with boats that looked like they were clearly planning to stay until they sank, perhaps to become moorings for the next generation. Ah, the circle of life...

Fine. We left the river entirely and went around the corner to Maramaratotara (Flaxmill) Bay.

Maramaratotara Bay is very pretty, but also just awful in the current strong easterlies. Like in the river at Whitaianga (the Waiwawa), all the good space was taken up by the mooring field. Inside the perimeter buoys, boats bobbed peacefully in the lee of the cliffs above. Outside, where we were, two monohulls were rolling back and forth forty degrees either side of vertical. Even Begonia was rolling around. At least our anchor was holding well. It was getting dark and the next nearest suitable harbor was hours away. I guess this is what our life is like tonight...

By morning, things were looking much better. The cloudy skies had cleared and the wind had both decreased and moved a little further behind the headland, making the motion aboard go from annoying to somewhere at the border between tolerable and pleasant.

Our first task after rowing ashore was to join the trails to the viewpoints at the top of the cliffs overlooking the anchorage, joining many others on their holiday weekend outings. Afterward, on impulse, we popped into a local café for some refreshment. There, we failed in our quest to get a little something 'to keep us going'. Instead, we both ended up with an entire delicious lunch each.

That, in turn, made us decide we were fortified enough to keep going for the foreseeable future. We hiked more trails and climbed more hills, and then took the small but regular passenger ferry across to Whitianga for a walk of the beach, a tour of the town, some light provisioning, and then some dinner before making our way back home.

Walking around the Flaxmill Bay and Lonely Bay side of the peninsula via the Shakespeare Cliff Lookout Trail

And the scenic route across to the Whitianga side of the Peninsula where we could catch a passengery ferry to the town itself provided some great views and access to the site of a onetime Maori Pa (hilltop fortificaton)

Over on Whitianga side of the river we ambled along the beach, and strolled through the small town to find an early dinner

Our Indian meal at Blue Ginger was amazing*.

Oh, you noticed the asterisk, did you? Well that's because the food there is really quite good. It is very, very good. I enjoyed it a great deal. However – we (I) had one little issue.

This came when our server asked me how spicy I would like my selection to be. I answered as I usually do: "As hot as you can make it. Really hot. SUPER hot. If you can make it even hotter than that, do it."

Our server looked at me in disbelief, "Indian Hot?"

"No", I said. Our server looked relieved at the expected response.

"Hotter than that." To make sure my point landed, I looked him hard in the eye so that he could see I was not kidding around.

Then, as extra insurance, because I still wasn't confident he was taking me seriously, I pulled out my friend Geoffrey's trick, spoken slowly and deliberately: "You tell the chef that I think he doesn't know how to make hot food."

When our food arrived, mine seemed initially to be not very spicy at all. Perhaps there will be a delayed effect. You get that sometimes when a bite will tiptoe past your tongue so that it can take your throat in a sneak attack.

Nope. Nothing. What the hell? Maryanne's dish, which she ordered as 'medium', was way spicier than mine.

When our server next passed by, I queried him about this. He had several responses. His first was that he thought I must have been kidding.

Maryanne and I have been married for a while now, so we can do that thing where we can communicate whole essays in quick glances. I shot her one that said, "Hey, Maryanne, apart from my naturally funny-looking face, was there anything in my demeanor or timbre when I ordered that would indicate I wasn't being serious?"

"No, Darling, but then not everybody knows you as well as I do. It's possible that he has previously had to field complaints from other patrons who have ordered their food spicy when they don't actually like it to be too hot. Also, I forgot to get avocados at the store."

"Not now, Maryanne..."

Seeing that I did not seem to be on the verge of a little chuckle, our server tried to pivot to concerns that I didn't really understand what I was asking of the kitchen. 'Indian Hot' is really very hot.

I am aware. That's why I ordered it that way

He then explained that most Kiwis don't like their food that spicy. He then started to move into the economics of operating a restaurant that sells food nobody will eat.

First of all, thanks for confusing me for a Kiwi. That means a lot. I wasn't even trying to have a go at the accent. Secondly, this guy (uses thumbs to gesture at self) would totally buy super-hot food AND get even more to take home with a big smile on his flaming red face. If I ever have a chance to return, I'm digging out the Phaal Curry Monster shirt I got at the Brick Lane Curry House in New York. Maybe they'll get it then.

Anyway, apart from that, the food was really very good. {Maryanne:In hindsight, Kyle's problem was that he ordered a dish that is prepared 24 hours in advance - so when you order it, you get however it was made, there IS no changing the spicyness after the fact}.

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Anchorage location @ Flaxmill Bay >> On google maps

Western Beach of Great Mercury Island

[Kyle]We had pretty firm plans to sail from Kennedy Bay to Great Mercury Island. Then Rick and Nina sent us a message saying they were going to stop in while cruising with friends and our plan became concrete.

Duplicat had a reach from Great Barrier Island. Our morning was spent tacking directly upwind. We arrived just ahead of them at the agreed rendezvous point at Parapara Bay to find it filling up fast, with several others clearly heading for the same place and not far behind. With that new information, we both decided on our backup plan of anchoring in adjacent Huruhi Harbor.

After three tries in tight quarters, we finally got Begonia's anchor to hold, but we weren't really happy. We reported this to Rick, who suggested we go with Plan C and anchor in the open roadstead off White Beach, to the other side of Parapara. They beat us there and, despite being the last to arrive at Great Mercury, Duplicat had its anchor down first. We then lowered ours as close as prudence would allow.

An initial stroll ashore was hastened due to approaching rain

Then the six of us, me, Maryanne, Rick, Nina, and their two guests, Gert and Cristal, went for what was billed as a walk along the beach. It soon became clear that everybody involved had more energy than what was needed for one pass of the beach, so we joined the nearby road for a few kilometers in either direction to take in the views. Afterwards, they all fancied a swim, so Maryanne and I left them to it while we returned to Begonia for supplies for a subsequent meetup on Duplicat. Oh, what fun! We haven't had a cockpit get-together for months and Rick is a dear friend from way back. He has nice friends, as well, with whom it was a pleasure to spend an evening. I was particularly pleased that Maryanne's homemade hummus went over well with Gert and Nina, the two chefs in attendance. I am one well-fed man.

Duplicat had to keep moving so that Gert and Cristal could make their flight back to Belgium. Maryanne and I had the luxury of time, so we lingered at Great Mercury Island for a couple more days.

On the first of these, we joined up with the familiar road. Then we pushed further than the previous day until we were way on the other side of the island, which was also at the top. We left the deteriorating road at a thin path leading into the trees to our left. A few seconds later, we emerged into the light at the top of a 200m cliff of white sandstone. Wow! The whole climb had been a gradual one though dense forest. We had not expected to break out of it with such a great demonstration of our altitude. That was totally worth the hours spent walking from the beach!

The walk included fine forest filled with tree ferns - so classically New Zealand, and those clifftop views!

On the way back, just where we were about to transition back from forest to farmland, Maryanne spotted a Kaka in the Pohutukawa tree to our left. Kakas are an endemic New Zealand parrot species who regularly top lists of most intelligent birds, alongside Greenwing Macaws and African Greys. I've been lucky enough to share precious time with the latter, my beloved E-bird (a name he gave himself). He was hilarious and kind and endlessly entertaining. Seeing any parrot in the wild is always a thrill for me. I root for them as much as anyone I can think of.

For our next day at Great Mercury Island, we decided to take the main road the other direction, towards Huruhi Harbor. That turned out to be less interesting than we hoped, so we curtailed our walk and opted instead to spend our afternoon kayaking to Ahikopua Piont, at the southern end of White Beach.

The water and beach were filled with the egg chains of some form of sealife

That particular point had some interesting geology, which was fun to poke around. By the time we were done, though, the wind had started to pick up. That made for a pretty long, tough, wet paddle back to the boat. After the preceding walk, we were that kind of multi-muscle tired that made us feel no guilt about hoovering up whatever was on our plates later.

And we had a calm day to explore some of the local cliffs and caves from the kayak (getting in some arm exercise!)

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Anchorage location >> On google maps

Port Jackson & Kennedy Bay

[Kyle]Moving on from Double Island, our next stop was at Port Jackson, on the northern end of the Coromandel Peninsula. The bay there is protected from southwest winds. We arrived a few hours before a forecast wind shift to that direction. What we had when we dropped anchor was strong, but decreasing westerlies, accompanied by a swell wrapping around the point. That made for some decidedly unpleasant conditions aboard as we lurched our way around our bucking boat. It was no wonder Begonia was the only boat in the bay. Perhaps this wasn't the best idea after all...

Two hours after staggering to bed (we hadn't even been drinking!), the wind shifted. The motion became tolerable, then comfortable, and then non-existent. By the time we arose in the morning, it felt aboard as if Begonia could have been out of the water, resting on a concrete pad. That is SO much better!

Hankering for some exercise, we rowed ashore to the beach for a circuit of the trails along the Muriwai Walk, which includes some stunning views along the northern Coromandel shore, and also Great Barrier Island, on the other side of the Colville Channel. On our way back, the last bit of the trail passes along the beach and past the camping area there, where we were able to stop and chat with a few nice people therein.

There is a strange juxtaposition between those of us on either side of the water's edge, even though our living conditions share many similarities. For those of us on boats, the Coromandel Peninsula is a big thing that is in the way, so to speak. Anyone trying to go by water from the Hauraki Gulf to the coast to the south has no choice but to pass right by Port Jackson. The Coromandel sticks way out and Port Jackson is the first part you encounter if arriving from the north. It seems almost silly NOT to stop in for a rest. Had the weather been better when we arrived, I'm sure we would have had more company in the anchorage.

For the campers, on the other hand, Port Jackson as way at the end of a long road to the end of land itself. The drive from Auckland can take most of a day. The last few miles of road is unpaved and steep and can probably seem somewhat harrowing in a big RV or while towing a heavy trailer. Thus, while Maryanne and I were chirping away about how Port Jackson made for a nice easy stop as we bopped along the coast, the tone of the RVer's narratives tended to be of surviving a real expedition to get to this most remote and cherished of destinations.

Our first day ashore we found a fine coastal trail to walk to the North of the bay (Muriwai Walk), and we especially loved the Port Jackson beach at low tide

Our next day there, we were looking forward to walking a different loop on the western side of the peninsula. Upon leaving the main road, though, we were confronted with a sign delineating the track as 'private only' for walkers with a specific tour company, the sign hinted you could access "with permission". As it happened, one of the tours was just finishing up now, so we approached one of the employees to see if we might be able to get that special permission for a short jaunt.

Alas, we could not. Even after clarifying that we only wanted to do the very short part at the end of the trail as some variety to the bit of the main road back, it was explained to us that the only way we could do that part of the trail was to sign up for the full three-day, cross-Coromandel hike with them. The cost was $800 – each. The $800 includes accommodation and meals. All we would need to do is the actual walking – no pack required. Uh, no. And not just because we have already catered our own lunch of granola bars and fizzy water. We decided an out-and-back along the public road would have to suffice.

Before climbing the main road, we stopped to marvel at (and lure with food) the eels in the local river

That road walk turned out to be just fine. The wide (compared to a a normal "trail") road allowed us to walk abreast, hand-in-hand, which is a nice luxury. The gradient was steep, but consistent, and in hours of walking, we only encountered half a dozen vehicles. We were even able to achieve a higher maximum altitude than the day before. I was surprised, at reaching that particular point, that Maryanne suggested descending almost back to sea level on the other side, until we could see what was around the corner, even though it would mean a steep climb back up. Since we were not on private farmland, we were also spared the necessity of dodging cattle.

Day 2 had us walking up the hill via the road to see some different coastal view

It was really nice to get some good walking in at last; not huge distances, but great exercise and some fine views to boot

Our days of offshore winds at Port Jackson were about to come to an end. Our previous experience at our arrival told us it was time to move on to better protection. Our destination for the next leg was Kennedy Bay, along the Coromandel's east coast.

Kennedy Bay is rather large. It is filled with fish farms and has wide mud flats between the water and the thin settlement ashore. We decided we would spend our time there aboard.

Well, sort of. On an after-hike swim in Port Jackson, I had noticed an unfortunately widespread covering of Acorn Barnacles on Begonia's newly painted bottom. The water had been too cold to think about dealing with it then, but I knew I was just kicking that can down the road. Donning the full wetsuit and dealing with it was to be our "one thing" for our day in Kennedy Bay.

Ugh - Barnacles!!! On our "new" paint!!!

It wasn't too bad. The barnacles were the only growth and they popped right off when touched with a plastic scraper. The cleaning was over in half the time I had budgeted for the task. Still, it was disappointing that only a few weeks after going in the water with pretty much the best paint money can buy, we were already having problems. Maryanne subsequently contacted our paint supplier, who conceded that all of northern New Zealand is having blooms that are overwhelming even their best paints this year. Apparently, the climate is changing, although that's not what the salesman said when he sold us our new Tesla. It's powered by Beautiful Clean Coal and it's reputed to be a great getaway car because you can't see it from behind.

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Anchorage location: Muriwai / Port Jackson >> On google maps

Anchorage location: Harataungua / Kennedy Bay >> On google maps