Tuesday, February 10, 2026

Kirita Bay (Coromandel Peninsula)

[Kyle]The Waitangi Day weekend was over. As we weighed anchor in Hook Bay, just after sunrise, Begonia was one of only about half a dozen boats left. By the time we were underway, three others were heading smartly toward civilization and presumably their jobs.

We were up early ourselves because the forecasts had what little wind remained dying completely by afternoon. I was hoping an early start would at least allow us to sail most of the way across the open gap to the Coromandel Peninsula.

This worked out pretty well for us. The wind stayed just below reefing speed as we exited the lee of Waiheke Island. The forecast swing to headwinds happened earlier than expected, which caused us to have to slowly bend a course away from our destination. I was worried the extra miles needed would give the wind more time to die off, but it held all the way across the gap. I didn't mind sailing twice as far if we could actually cover the distance by sailing, and we had nowhere else to be, so it was a good chance for us to let Begonia kick up her heels a bit.

At the other end, we pulled into Kirita Bay. The place was not marked as an anchorage on the charts and did not seem to be popular with local sailors. This could mean that there was something we didn't know about the place, like the holding was terrible, or the topography funnels wind and chop into the bay.

We couldn't see anything obvious. The bay was a good depth for anchoring and the bottom was marked as thick mud. There was plenty of room for swinging at anchor and the hills that form a bowl around the bay were just lovely. We set anchor, which held just fine, and enjoyed a peaceful night of unusual solitude as the only boat in the bay.

At the northern headland, Kirita has a few sea caves that are slowly eroding away from under the hills above. It is possible, at high tide, to clear the sill at the entrance and take a kayak or dinghy into and through the caves. That was our plan, but since high tide wasn't until afternoon, we decided to start our day with a walk ashore.

Our hiking app indicated there were viewpoints at the top of each of the two roads leading out of the valley. We decided our pre-cave plan was to make a loop by climbing one road to the first, joining the highway to the second, and then taking that road back down to the bay.

As we were getting ready to do that, Maryanne spotted a bird sitting low in the water. At first, we assumed it was a penguin (we had seen a few when we were coming in the day before). Second examination revealed it to be a juvenile tern.

Terns, while seabirds, have feathers that would be better termed 'water resistant', instead of 'waterproof'. This poor thing had lingered on the surface just a little too long and was now waterlogged and drifting towards Begonia. Maryanne changed into swimming gear, and was just about to go in the water to affect a rescue, when it became apparent the bird was going to drift right by the boat. We each tried throwing a float on a line to it, but it seemed too tired to try to get hold of it. After a couple more minutes, the bird actually passed close enough to the boat for Maryanne to scoop it towards us with a boathook. When Maryanne scooped it out of the water with her hands, the bird offered her no resistance.


Helping out a passing tern that seemed to be in distress

We gave the bird a bath, to get the salt out of its feathers, and then allocated it a quiet spot on the transom where it could rest without being disturbed, warm up in the sun, or hide in the shade. When we left Begonia in the kayak, the bird had its wings spread to dry in the sun and was starting to look around with a curiosity that looked to us like it was only a little on the tired side of normal. It was such a huge improvement from only a few minutes before.

As we were tying up our kayak on the beach, a local woman, Elaine, who was finishing up a beach walk, came up and introduced herself. She explained that we were welcome to use the beach, but that all the property above the high tide line was private. The bay is basically divided between two different farms. The side where we were now was in a section that had been subdivided into plots for baches.

We explained that we were just hoping to walk up one road or the other to get to the viewpoints along the highway above. Would that be okay?

"No, sorry. The roads are both private."

"You live here, though?" Maryanne asked.

"Oh, yes. That's our bach up there."

"So..." Maryanne continued, "would YOU give us permission to use the road?"

"Ah!" Elaine replied, "Yes, of course I could. Sorry. Feel free to use the road. You don't seem like the kind of people who would do anything."

And with that, we were cleared to climb to altitude.

The walk was actually very pleasant. The road was empty and was graded to be shallow enough to allow for the towing of the occasional motor home. The climb was unrelenting, but in a mild way, with the views getting better and better with each meter gained.


A walk ashore (with permission)

At the top, at the intersection of highway 25, the Coromandel Peninsula's main road, we passed through the gate at the top, making sure to diligently close it behind us. There, we were surprised to find the parking area packed with campervans and busses. It turns out the Manaia Road Saddle and Lookout is one of the main stops on bus tours taking in the beauty of the area.

It's certainly easy to see why. New Zealand really is a beautiful country in general. This area looks kind of like Scotland, only with warmer weather and weird trees. Several people, seeing us come through the gate at the private road, asked us where we had come from and how did we get here. I think they were hoping we would tell them the road isn't really private, but that was definitely not the impression we were given.

The nature of the road was that it disappeared over a crest to an unseen, but tantalizing valley below. Begonia was just visible in the middle of the bay. When we explained that we came from there as an excuse for how we got to use the private road, that only seemed to increase curiosity about what exactly was down there. I'm afraid it's not a secret government missile base. It's just a bunch of baches and a sheep farm. We've got a boat, so we don't need no stinking baches!

Anyone?

Back at sea level, we spent a few minutes giving the rundown of our walk to Elaine and her husband, Jan, and then boarded the kayak for a paddle to the caves.

The caves were interesting and more extensive than is apparent from the bay. Our skeg just cleared the sill, so we were able to go right in and marvel at the geology. This whole area is made up of conglomerate that was clearly all created in one massive volcanic event. What must that day have been like?


Exploring from the kayak

Once we were out of Kirita Bay and into the Hauraki Gulf, we just couldn't resist going up and down the coast a bit to check out some more caves and a few little islands. At one of these, we headed over to a disturbance on the water to see what was going on. A bunch of little fish were fleeing from something.

Soon, that something appeared, gave us a little look, and then resumed fishing. It was a Little Blue Penguin! It seemed completely unconcerned with us and kept fishing just out of arm's reach for several more dives. After the last one, it parted with a little honk. Well, that was worth the extra paddling!

Upon our return home, we found that our little tern had gone. We couldn't find any signs of distress, like missing feathers or unexpected smudges that would indicate the poor thing had fallen back in or been taken by a predator. We hope that is good news and the bird is out enjoying its life again with a little more wisdom.


Anchorage location >> On google maps

Sunday, February 08, 2026

Waiheke Island

[Kyle]Another short northerly blow was coming. McKenzie Bay would not have been safe in it, so we moved on to Oneroa Bay on Waiheke Island. To be honest, Oneroa didn't look like it would be a great place to be either, since it is also north-facing, but in this case, it would be uncomfortable vs. dangerous. We decided we could stick it out aboard for a day or two until the westerlies returned.

Idéfix had also been in Oneroa for a week or so. We were hoping we could catch up with them before they left.

They ended up being gone when we arrived, along with most of the other boats in the bay, all headed for calmer anchorages. Most of the party boats that remained left before nightfall, leaving just Begonia and six other boats. After a somewhat rough first night, we emerged in the morning to find four of them heading out into thick rain and fog. We know our anchor is dug in. We've seen worse, and when the sun and crowds return, we'll be in a prime spot. There are times when it is good to not have to be anywhere and be able to just ride out a bad day or two.

Sure enough, after the weather cleared and the wind swung back to its more usual direction away from the beach, boat after boat appeared around the headland and Oneroa Bay and the anchorage started refilling. By the time the third or fourth one had dropped anchor, Maryanne and I had already rowed the dinghy to the beach for a day on the island.


Oneroa (on Waiheke) is a quaint and colourful tourist town, with a nice selection of restaurants and stores - including gelato!

New Zealand is pretty well known for its wines. Waiheke Island is its own little micro-region for winemaking. As such, once Maryanne and I had fortified ourselves with a nice Vietnamese lunch, we decided to link together some of the wineries in our own Waiheke wine tour. It is possible to book several of these on a wine tour bus, but we figured walking would not only offset some of the calories of the wine, but also slow down our consumption as well.


Cable Bay Vineyards

We started with Cable Bay Vineyards. They are about a kilometer out of town on a pretty hillside overlooking the vines below. When we arrived, we were told the views were for restaurant patrons, wine tastings are in the cellar.

The cellar was nice enough, I suppose, but our table (an old barrel) was overlooking the production floor. That was interesting in its own way, but was hardly the rolling green hills we had hoped to enjoy. As for the wine, it was wine. It would fit right in with any other mid-shelf wine. Since their retail price for take-home bottles was about triple that, we decided the backpack I had brought 'just in case' could remain empty.

After Cable Bay, we hiked over to Mudbrick Vineyards. Wow! What a difference. The whole place is just beautiful, with lots of cozy places to sit and enjoy a glass of wine or a meal, while looking out over the sun-dappled gardens and the green valley below.

The service wasn't great, though. As Maryanne and I presented ourselves for a tasting, I specifically asked for a selection of the worst wines they had, in the hopes of offsetting the amazing atmosphere a little. That is not what we got. Instead, we were given generous portions of positively scrumptious wine, all delivered with friendly good cheer. Apparently, you can't have everything. With our new data set of two, we quickly decided to advise anyone who only has a day on the island to head straight for Mudbrick. Ignore the other places, get yourself a table on the verandah, and spend the day watching the shadows of the clouds gliding across the fields. You will not be disappointed. As of the time of this writing, several wineries later, that advice still stands.


Mudbrick Winery


A nice walk (not exactly a shortcut, but avoiding the traffic) through beautiful forest and countryside

After taking the long way back to Oneroa via a very nice nature trail through the adjacent reserve, we realized we still had enough time left in the day to take the excellent public bus service to Waiheke Whisky Distillery, in the center of the island.

This place was also very nice. While most of the other patrons were enjoying beer flights at the beautiful restaurant, Maryanne and I presented ourselves as the sole takers for a whisky tasting at the distillery building. Our server/guide, who is an immigrant from Northern Ireland, was super-knowledgeable about not only their products, but whisky/whiskey in general, and could not be stumped. I was genuinely surprised to learn later that he did not have an advanced degree in all of this. He seemed to appreciate that Maryanne and I know perhaps a bit more about whisky than their usual guests and may have added another millimeter or two to our pours, although I can't be sure.


Waiheke Whisky Distillery

The whiskies were all very good. Had you presented me with any of them in another setting, I could have easily thought they were Scottish single-malts. They had one more expensive variety, however, that I was interested in, but wasn't included in the tasting. I was considering ordering a small, taster portion, when Maryanne told the guy to go ahead and bring us the whole high-end tasting flight. Well, alrighty then...

I often say that whisky is like sandwiches. Technically, they are a similar kind of thing to each other, but individual ones can taste wildly different. Imagine the difference between a cucumber sandwich and one made of goat liver and onions. Each is a sandwich, alright, but eating one is likely to be a very different experience from eating the other.

It turns out the stuff I was looking forward to trying was not particularly to my liking (I still finished it. I'm not a monster). One of their other varieties, which they finished off aging with two years in Chardonnay barrels, was just magnificent. I was looking forward to popping a bottle into my backpack for the trip home when I noticed they want $300 for it. Okay, remember the exchange rate.

No, still too much. Perhaps if my birthday was coming up; More specifically, my LAST birthday. Since Maryanne's face was offering no clues as to whether she was expecting that one to also be my next birthday, we decided to skip the purchase after all.

Luckily, tasting portions are not full portions. After just missing the public bus back to Oneroa, we decided to wait for the next one at Postage Stamp Vineyards, next door. We both gave that one a firm meh! It wasn't bad. It wasn't great. That was made up for afterwards, when we had dinner at an Indian restaurant that looked meh! from the outside, but was surprisingly delectable.


Postage Stamp Vineyard/Winery

The next day, feeling more chipper than I was expecting, and not planning to be doing a whole lot with our day, other than a quick provisioning trip, Maryanne informed me that she had been doing some research and had found more highly-recommended wineries to patronize; we could stop off at the Woolworths (grocery store) on the way back. Fine, I'll go, but only because it will delay any heavy shopping.


Stonyridge Estate/Winery


Tantalus Estate/Winery


Te Motu Winery/Vineyard; like many on the island they also grow sunflowers

All of her choices were very good; much closer (in experience) to Mudbrick than Cable Bay. Our last and favorite of the day was Tantalus Estate, which not only had nice wine in a great setting, complete with boardwalks through the forest, but also amazing food as well.

The marvelous weather and the approaching Waitangi Day three-day weekend (which was only two weekends after the three-day Auckland Day weekend. I think a five-day workweek must be pretty stressful to a kiwi), was starting to make busy Oneroa Bay a little too crowded and festive for comfort. A wind shift was coming after dark and we had little confidence there wouldn't be pandemonium from all the overlapping swinging circles. We decided to get out and move to the quiet, but less well-protected bay next door, Sandy Bay, for the evening.

It was a good thing we did. When we weighed anchor at Oneroa, the boat in front of us had to start engines to move out of our way so we didn't hit them in the process. They hadn't even been the closest ones to us. Our new spot in Sandy Bay, with just enough motion to feel, was at least only ours.

Our main reason for coming to Sandy Bay was so that we could return the tools Nic had lent Maryanne for her big shelf projects while Begonia was in the yard. Alas, Nic wasn't there, but his old school chum, Alistair, and his wife, Jen, have a bach there. They promised to get Nic's tools back to him when their holiday ends and they go back to the real world down in Wellington.

Like Nic and Caitlin, they are also great fun and easy to get along with. After a good, long talk, beginning with the abbreviated versions of our respective life stories, we all agreed the rest of the world had gone crazy around us, while we were just trying to live our lives. What everyone could use is a little more time at the beach and less time screaming at each other. With that in mind, they headed out for a swim. Maryanne and I were swum out, so to speak, so they told us to make ourselves at home, and even offered to let us do a load of laundry, while we explored the local forest reserve and the Sacred Blessing Sanctuary Garden and Sculptures.


Enclosure Bay was the favourite of the locals at Sandy Bay township (we failed to get photos of our heros Alistair and Jen!!!


Sacred Blessing Sanctuary Garden and Sculptures provided some tranquil surroundings

The forest was nice. It's always good to get the blood flowing and some fresh air into our lungs. This is particularly true in New Zealand, with its unusual flora and fauna. The sanctuary was also very nice, in a more manicured sort of way. It had lots of lovely sections, many with nice verandahs or gazebos from which to enjoy the views. It had much more the feeling of being somebody's very large and very nice back garden than any sort of public space. I have a strong suspicion it came about as a way of monetizing an increasingly expensive gardening obsession on someone's part.

We could have stayed at Sandy Bay longer, but there were real tailwinds in the forecast, so we decided to move on to the northeast corner of Waiheke Island at Hook Bay.

Since we had plenty of time, we unrolled the jib and had an easy sail at two-thirds speed, while being passed by more fully-canvassed boats all around us.

Hook Bay is close enough to popular Man O War Bay to act as an overflow for those with fast tenders. Thus, we weren't too surprised when we came around the corner to find it quite full. Also, it was Waitangi Day weekend, so there were probably even more boats than usual for the end of the work week.

Most of the land around this end of the Waiheke Island is private. However, after what was apparently a pretty lengthy back-and-forth with the local council, the ranch surrounding Hook Bay has now marked a trail so that walkers may now transit to the Stony Batter DOC site at the top of the hill.


Views on our walk to Stony Batter

Not really knowing what Stony Batter was, Maryanne and I planned to do the walk as an excuse to get some exercise while taking in some views along the way.

So what is a Stony Batter. Well, (I had not previously known this) a 'batter' is the narrow bit of an island between two opposite-facing bays. This particular batter was apparently named such because it does have a lot of big stones lying around. Since this site also provided strategically useful vantagepoints of the entrance to the Hauraki Gulf during WWII, a whole military encampment was constructed here, all connected with long tunnels to connect to big cannons. Even more impressive was that since the government was trying to keep construction of the site a secret, the whole thing was dug by hand so no one would have to explain where all those diggers were going.

The stony part of the site is mostly open farmland, containing a few sheep or cattle, which we were free to wander at our leisure. Tunnel tours, on the other hand, run to a schedule and require a fee.

To be honest, there's probably not much to see of the tunnel site, apart from a few badly corroded relics and of course, the tunnels themselves. They total over a kilometer as they cross from one gun turret to the others. The DOC has done a pretty good job jazzing up the site a bit. One section of tunnel has cool lighting, complete with lasers. In one large room, they are hosting an art expo. The one when we were there was of some amazing astrophotography. One bit of levity was the refracting telescope in the corner, next to the piano. The part of the sky to which it was trained was blocked by sixty meters of rock.


The Military tunnel system was mildly interesting (we've done a LOT of such things), but this version was enanahced with some fun lighting and art exhibits to stumble upon on the tour

Also fun was our guide, who was Mr. Enthusiasm himself. Think Steve Irwin with two pots of coffee in him. This guy LOVES everything about his job. He loves the history, the construction methods, the artifacts, the kids, the old codgers, the pretty women. He loves giving tours and loves that his job includes miles and miles of walking and stairs. He seems like the kind of guy who does a hundred pullups to warm up for pushing his truck up the hill to work. He loves setting new pushed-my-truck-up-the-hill personal bests. He loves saving his paychecks for a heavier truck.

And then, even more quickly than it started, our tour was over. Our group of a dozen or so were shown through one last door, it was shut behind us, and we were all suddenly standing at the bottom of a dark glade, which seemed really bright to us because we were now also suddenly outside in the daytime. Mr. Enthusiasm was no doubt sprinting through the darkened corridors and up the stairs in a bid to get back to the office by minute's end.

After spotting a sign directing us to the exit, Maryanne and I decided we were in no hurry, so we just hung out and enjoyed the shade, while the rest of the group moved on. While we were sitting there, listening to the sounds of the forest, we heard the unmistakable sound of a Kakapo.

The Kakapo is the world's heaviest and only flightless species of parrot. This particular bird is often cited as an example of why New Zealand's endemic animals often struggle to survive after the introduction of invasive predators. (I think David Attenborough may have mentioned something about them in his “The Life of Birds” series)

Kakapos originally didn't have to worry too much about predators. Studies of pre-Polynesian times suggest they were once New Zealand's third most common bird. To keep their population levels sustainable, they have evolved a very slow breeding cycle.

Then there is their call. For mating, male Kakapo build acoustic bowls. They stand in these bowls and let out a very low frequency booming sound. The frequency of these calls makes them travel long distances. With others thrown in, it can be very hard for a female to pinpoint the direction from which they come. This, in turn slows down the meeting/mating process even further. This used to be a good thing for them, but now, having calls that can be heard for miles by dogs and stoats only makes them easier for these more fleet-footed animals to find, particularly since the male Kakapo, who can't fly away, is just standing in the bowl waiting hopefully for a female to come to him.

The Kakapo are still here, though, and are even recovering with our help. Their population is now estimated to be somewhere in the 200s, all in places that have been diligently cleared of introduced predators. The New Zealand government has taken that very seriously. Maryanne and I had no chance of spotting the actual bird making the calls. The best we could do was narrow down the source to somewhere nearby. It still feels like it was a huge privilege to hear it, though.

While the Stony Batter tour guide was busy meeting his last group of great new friends for the day, Maryanne and I enjoyed the pleasant downhill amble back to sea level and our waiting dinghy in Hook Bay. The weekend was now almost over and the place was starting to thin out noticeably.


A different route back to Begonia


Anchorage location Oneroa Bay >> On google maps

Anchorage location Sandy Bay >> On google maps

Anchorage location Hooks Bay >> On google maps