Pushing Northward

[Kyle]Ah, the weather... What a pain in the ass.

Looking at the forecasts in Whangārei, our choices for continuing north were narrowing to either spend the rest of summer getting there, and then turn right back around, or do a couple of long days to get north, and then spend the rest of the summer there. Since we were looking forward to a more leisurely period of cruising that didn’t involve daily worry about how we were going to get the next twenty miles, and then the next, we decided to go for the latter.

Our first day out of Whangārei, I was hoping to be able to exit the Hatea completely and get as far up the coast as Tutukaka, which I remember liking very much from our last visit many years back.

Our day ended up being even more ideal than that. We were able to leave the marina at high tide, just when the lift bridge opened after morning rush hour. We then had a flat calm trip down the river, helped by a fast ebb. Almost as soon as we rounded Bream Head, a strong southerly filled in and started pushing us smartly up the coast. We passed Tutukaka just after noon and made it all the way to Bland Bay, just south of Cape Brett and the entrance to the Bay of Islands, right at sunset.

Despite the name, Bland Bay looked like it would be a nice place to spend a few days. The problem with that plan was that our strong southerlies were predicted to start fizzling out by noon. To make the best of them, we were already in the open sea again by sunrise.

After doubling Cape Brett and Piercy Island, we had a couple hours crossing a mess of confused seas coming from multiple directions. These were pushed by swirly winds tumbling over the mountains. Just after noon, as predicted, the wind started to back counterclockwise and decrease. The seas smoothed out, which helped us keep up our speed. We ended up arriving at the Whangaroa Harbor entrance in light headwinds that were just getting far enough forward that we were going to need to start tacking.

Inside the dead-calm harbor, we motored over to Rere Bay, the popular anchorage near the Duke’s Nose viewpoint. Two munohulls were already there, taking up most of the prime space. We poked around on the shallow edge, hoping for a large enough area of catamaran-suitable depth. After deciding it was too tight for comfort, we returned to the deep water at the entrance. We would need all our chain again, but there was just enough room for us to swing without encroaching on the others.

As we were slowing to a stop at our chosen drop spot, a British ketch, skippered by someone of questionable upbringing, came into the bay at speed, wedged up right behind us, walked to the bow, dropped anchor, and then returned to the cockpit, all while conspicuously avoiding eye contact so that he could not see my rude gestures of protest. Maryanne hadn’t even had time to press the ‘down’ button on the windlass controller.

Despite the fact that I was sure the correct response was to yell, “Towanda!” Kathy Bates-style (from Fried Green Tomatoes) and set the throttles to Ramming Speed, Maryanne (correctly, much to my dismay) reminded me that since the rude little wanker had lowered anchor before us, he now had right of way. If we still didn’t feel there was enough room for us to safely anchor, we were now obliged to make other arrangements. Oh, Grr!

Fine. Taking a deep breath, I put the engines in gear and we left Rere Bay altogether for the adjacent, equally deep, but much roomier Waitepipi Bay. With my adrenaline levels slowly returning to normal, I quickly realized Waitepipi was a much better deal. Rere Bay is usually overcrowded with a rolling queue of arrivals and departures, so that worry never really goes away. Waitepipi has plenty of swinging room, more privacy, and better views of the northern part of the harbor, including the Duke’s Nose. The extra distance can be traversed in only five minutes with a kayak. Later on, we met one of the occupants of the original two monohulls in Rere Bay. He told us that the ketch, which ironically has a name like Serenity or Quiet Time, has a really loud generator that they run most of the time. Sometimes, being run out by self-absorbed boneheads can be a good thing.

Arriving in Whangaroa Harbour

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Anchorage location >> On google maps

Whangarei – Again!

[Kyle]Our original plan for our cruising season did not include another stop in Whangārei. After all, we had already seen it plenty around the time of our long haulout.

During discussions about our plans after New Zealand, we realized we would need to be doing some heavy provisioning for long stretches in poorly-supplied areas. After looking at our various options among the towns going up the coast, it quickly became apparent that Whangārei, even though it usually requires a day each to go up and down the Hatea River, would still be by far the most convenient place to stop.

This is, of course, because Town Basin Marina has a giant store right across the street that is so close you can even wheel the shopping cart you used at the store right back to the boat. If they don't have what you want, there are other stores about 2km away (that also deliver), plus hardware stores, electronics stores, all within easy walking distance. There are also several nice eateries steps from the marina and parks galore for just plain ambling. Thus, it wasn't too upsetting to have to cross off a couple of the more remote stops northward to make room for another Whangārei visit.

We even got lucky, if you can call it that, with regard to the weather. It was forecast to be just terrible, although at least terrible in the right direction. While everybody else was hunkered down, trying to hide from it, we dug out our foul weather gear and took Begonia out for a sail.

Some sunshine on passage - A LONG day with a mix of motoring and sailing to make it back to the Hatea River

With more wind than we would ever need, we reefed the sails for medium-fast speed for the long sail from Great Barrier Island to the mouth of the Hatea River. We got there just before slack water, which gave us just enough daylight left to ride the flood all the way to the anchorage by Norsand Boatyard before dropping anchor.

This is where the second part of getting lucky with the weather came in. Since the weather was forecast to be just awful for the next couple of days, rather than go to the marina, where we would be paying good money to be outside running errands in the deluge, we would instead stay here for free until the sun starts shining again. Days off in the rain with nothing enticing us ashore was just what we were getting low on. Our backlog of less-than-desirable, bottom-of-the-list jobs was growing and now we would have a chance of chipping away at some of it. Maryanne started making scary-long shopping lists and I filed our tax returns, for example.

Once the weather cleared and we headed to the marina, we were rested and ready to go. It turns out Maryanne had not been just making lists, she had been ordering stuff and scheduling deliveries. Three quarters of the stuff we were going to be spending a whole day shuttling back and forth to the boat was now being dropped right at the gate, leaving us with only one or two easy trips, which we could squeeze in whenever was convenient. We were able to cordon off Pi Day as a no jobs zone, and even had enough time left over after all our remaining arrands that we had nothing left to do except socialize on our last day there.

Collecting mail and groceries - and squeezing in some time for a wedding anniversary stroll on the Hatea loop Trail and into the forest

A big thank you to Helen Shrewsbery (a fellow sailor that lives in the area) who accepted a stash of parcels on our behalf.

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Anchorage location in the Hatea River >> On google maps

Town Basin Marina >> On google maps

Great Barrier Island

[Kyle]Another strong blow was about to arrive. This one would be the only period of southerlies in the forecast for over a week. Despite the fact that Maryanne and I eventually decided we really liked Whitianga, it was time to get up early and clock up some miles towards our next general cruising region in the far north. This time, we would be leapfrogging over our last anchorage at Great Mercury Island and continuing as far again to Great Barrier Island.

Our sail was much better than the last one. We left the anchorage and sailed the first ten miles under spinnaker. At Needle Rock, we switched to working sail and slowly accelerated away in the building wind on a fast broad reach. We passed Port Jackson, leaving the protection of the Coromandel Peninsula into a building sea, where we would find ourselves occasionally surfing with speeds the low teens.

About the time we were starting to get weary of being constantly thrown around, we arrived at Wellington Head, where we were able to make the downwind turn into the smoother waters of the bay at Port Abercrombie. At this point, we were still far enough from our planned anchorage at Kiwiriki Bay that we didn't need to start warming up our engines for anchoring just yet. Since our speed had been so good during the day, we had the luxury of not being in a hurry to beat the sunset, so that we could take our time crossing the two-and-a-half miles to the entrance to Port Fitzroy, at the far end of Port Abercrombie.

The problem was not the wind. We had plenty of that. The problem was that the surrounding high terrain was making the wind act like a blindfolded toddler on a sugar rush who was playing Pin the Tail on the Donkey. Sailing Begonia across the bay was like sailing a dinghy. Gusts, lulls, and rapid wind shifts required large rudder deflections just to keep us moving. A gust would hit, Begonia would lurch a hundred meters or so at nine knots, then coast to a stop at the other end. Then another one would come from the other side. There was no time to gybe everything over, so we would just go the wrong direction on the wrong tack for a while until that one petered out. Then the whole process would start all over.

After averaging all of these little sprints into a general eastbound movement, we finally made it to the point where we really needed to start the engines and get them warmed up. We had a forty-knot gust, where we held on for the ride. That was quickly followed by a two-knot lull. We used that last one to douse our sails neatly, as if we were demonstrating the process for a boat show inside a big hangar. Whew!

Sailing past Needle Rock (again), and eventually arriving at our anchorage (just before some more rain!)

At Kiwiriki Bay, all the good, shallow spots were already taken by other boats trying to find shelter from the weather. After poking around a bit, we let out a collective groan and resigned ourselves to the big, deep, empty spot in the middle of the bay, where we would need to deploy all the chain we have.

That actually turned out for the best, since the subsequent storm had its wind shredded by the mountains above into what reached the water's surface as everything at once. I think Forrest Gump may have said something about the winds at Great Barrier Island

A total lunar eclipse was a good excuse to be up in the middle of the night and despite being on a moving boat Kyle managed some star photography

Two days later, when the rain stopped and the wind died to nothing, we emerged to a glorious bright morning. Most of the other boats left. Maryanne and I rowed ashore for a hike to the summit of nearby Maungapiko. To make things more ambitious, we cobbled together a loop from several different trails so we could make it an all-day event.

It didn't take us long to wonder what we'd gotten ourselves into. The short connector trail from Kiwiriki Bay to the main one was a bit overgrown. That's to be expected. After that, we had steep climbs and descents through miles of gorse, which is the last thing you want to grab or fall into if you lose your balance.

Even though it is less 'Outdoorsy Mountaineer', I think we were both glad when our scratchy gauntlet changed to a 4WD road for a most of the rest of the climb.

A well enjoyed hike ashore

My favorite part of this section was when we came upon a sign directing us to a Kuari tree a few meters off the road. An old growth Kauri is always a joy to see. Even though they are less massive and don't grow quite as tall as California Redwoods, their long branches and enormous canopies make them seem at least as majestic. Populations here are suffering from Kauri Dieback Disease, so it's always a pleasure to find and share a little bit of time with one of the ancient ones.

Near the summit of Maungapiko (280m), we left the 4WD road and took the short stub trail to the viewpoint at the top. That trail got increasingly perilous as we scrambled over the last few boulder faces to the top. When we got there, we were delighted to find not only amazing views, but an actual bench, where we could sit and enjoy our reward meal of apples and water. Not only that, but the DOC also resisted the opportunity to display an ad for a personal injury lawyer. Good on them!

Having left our 4WD road behind, Maryanne and I joined a regular walking track for the descent back to Kiwiriki Bay. This trail did not have any gorse, but it was also not good. The storm of the previous week had downed several trees and even washed out a few areas, making the going harder than just plain walking. There were also several really steep sections that went on for ages. Doing our loop the other way would have been pretty disheartening through this section. As it was, even though we were going downhill, there were several patches that were bordering on treacherous. It was with great relief that we finally reached the valley floor, where all that was required of us was to occasionally hop over a downed tree trunk.

Back at the dinghy, it was now low tide, requiring a fairly long drag over the mud flats to the water's edge. Coming the other way were a few kayakers who were coming ashore BAREFOOT! Going barefoot is pretty common for Kiwis (and Aussies), but this was nuts! The tidal mud here is impregnated with hundreds of oyster shells, which will slice you open before you even realized you have even touched one. Also, the mud that enters your new incisions is most definitely NOT sterile. You might as well apply the tourniquet now.

They asked us about the trail we had just exited. After a bit of back and forth, they eventually decided against it. We got the feeling that it had less to do with Maryanne's and my descriptions of how perilous and easy to lose the trail was in spots, as it was that there just wasn't time to make it back before dark.

With our muscles and joints telling us that we have walked far enough for a while, thank you, Maryanne and I spent the next day exploring everywhere we could reach in the kayak. New Zealand is interesting from every perspective and, so far, Great Barrier Island seems to be its own mini–New Zealand, filled with chirping birds, interesting plants, and fascinating geology.

During a potter about in the Kayak we met a penguin (a little blue penguin)

We had been given a lead by a friend (thanks Rick!) about a guy who rents out a car in Port Fitzroy, the next bay to the north of Kiwiriki. We had hoped to reserve it over the upcoming weekend, but the guy said the only time he had available was tomorrow. That meant we were up first thing the next morning to get Begonia anchored and secured in time to get the car. It turned out all the nearby space for anchoring was taken, so we needed even more time to anchor way on the other end of the harbor and then do the hike into town.

Our rental agreement was very informal, basically: The keys are in it. Leave the money in the agreed location when you're done.

Unlike Great Mercury Island, Great Barrier Island has an actual paved road that runs most of the length of the island. That makes a day of tourism nice and straightforward, particularly since there aren't that many side roads that aren't driveways. We drove to trails for mountain viewpoints, sleepy surfing beaches, and little, three-road villages. All were stunning.

We visited Windy Canyon (and the ridge just beyond) twice on the road trip - and it was well worth the short walk from the road

Kaitoki creek and the beach/sand-dunes beyond

Blind Bay

Iona Gold mine, long abandoned, the mine is now home to plenty of cave weta (large native insects)

Medlands Beach housed a cafe and an irish pub, both of which we share our money with

The island was home to scattered art (even dinosaurs) but Maryanne was especially delighted to come across so many fun mail boxes

There was a beautiful trail off Medlands Beach

Aotea Brewing Company (an off-the-grid brewery/bar), near Medlands

Back at Port Fitzroy for sunset and a drink at the Boat Club

During our day, we were able to alternate stretching our legs in the hills with nice meals at outdoor cafes and restaurants. After parking the car back at Port Fitzroy we were able to pop in for drink (without worrying about who would drive) at the Port Fitzroy Boat Club. On the trail back to the bay with our dinghy, Maryanne even spotted a Morepork (an endemic small owl) in one of the trees above.

With one more day in Port Fitzroy before the next change of weather, Maryanne and I decided to take an easy day by going to Glen Fern Sanctuary, just on the other side of the bay from Port Fitzroy's ferry landing.

In 1990, Founder Tony Bouzaid bought Glenfern as an 83-hectare farm. He and his wife Mal then set to eliminating invasive predators and reintroducing native species to the peninsula surrounding the farm. Now it is a haven for many of Great Barrier's endemic species.

Glenfern Sanctuary had some hidden gems and viewpoints

Maryanne and I thought a visit to Glenfern would be an easy day, compared to our all-island excursion the day before. What we didn't initially appreciate was that what Glanfern lacks in area, it makes up for with gradient. Collecting the full set of the sanctuary's trails turned out to be quite a thigh-searing workout.

It was worth it, though. We got some one-on-one time with a pair of fearless endemic ducks and finally got to see a whole flock of Kakas. That last one was a bit funny because after spending the whole day peering carefully into the forest at any movement, we found them in the tree right outside the visitor's center.

The highlight was way in the back of the sanctuary, at the top of all the trails, where they had not only a giant Kauri, but they had built a swinging footbridge connecting the adjacent hillside to the tree at canopy level. That was definitely worth the climb!

Boats were now pouring into the deeper inlets of Great Barrier Island in search of protection from the next blast of rough weather. Shimshal anchored next to us and even managed to get in a brief visit as they tried to squeeze in a shore visit before the rain. We hadn't seen Simon and Sally since they left their boat behind to go spend the winter in Scotland. It was good to catch up. Not surprisingly, our complaints about what an inclement, non-summer-like summer we have been having back in New Zealand were met with chuckles. We had a few nights where the temperature got down to almost 10C. They had actual snow. Perhaps we are getting a little soft...

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Anchorage location >> On google maps