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
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