Ah! New Zealand! (continued)

We should have stayed in New Zealand!  If we had known what lay ahead of us upon returning to the States, we would have stayed on the boat.  

There’s a downside to everything, and the downside to leaving one’s home shores to sail the world is that no matter how much one divests oneself of the ties that bind, there is always something or someone back home that binds.  Most cruisers sensibly reduce those ties back home to as small a number as possible.  They sell the house, the car, pawn off the dog, tell kids and family they are now on their own and take off across the oceans.  Cruising truly becomes their life and their lifestyle.  We on Avante have done none of that.  As The Captain likes to say, “We have another life.”  “Or two,” moans and amends The First Mate.

Thursday, December 9th, 2010 – We land at LAX and groggily take to the LA streets for a short visit with close friend, Bliss Krekel, in Manhattan Beach.   The next day, we briefly visit with friends, Barbara and Martyn Temple, in Anaheim Hills on our drive out to Ontario for dinner with son, John.  In the morning, we board a flight to Phoenix where we have allocated ourselves 3 days in our Scottsdale home.  The prime objective here is to load up on all the grub and stuff we will need for the Holidays in our Telluride home.  A secondary objective is to pick up Jake, our 9-year old Golden, who has been vacationing at Kelly’s, a friendly lab owned by neighbors, Del and Dave Rowley.  In between countless shopping stops, we fit in an evening with granddaughter, Berlin.   From this one paragraph alone, it must now be blatantly obvious that this cruising couple has not followed the tried and true path of most cruising couples.  We have not reduced our lives to the simplest equation.  We are encumbered by houses, cars and dog.  Family still needs us, and we need them.  The same rings true for friends.  Our life is full (good) and complicated (bad).

Thursday, December 16th – We load car, dog and squeeze in us for the 9-hour drive to Telluride.  The ranch looks in good shape as we approach the house.  Our 2 cats, fat, sleek and healthy, saunter out from the barn where they are consigned when we leave for extended periods and race us to the door.  (Yes, on top of a dog, these 2 dumb world-wide cruisers have 2 cats!)  Jake dashes out of the car for his first roll in the snow, but where’s the snow?  There are huge patches of brown dirt.  This does not look like any December out on the ranch that we can remember!

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A busy Holiday week goes by too quickly.  On January 2nd, the Brown family flies home, and us Gruns load the car for a quick trip to Arizona to return Berlin in time for the start of school. 

All the above was good and fun — now for the bad.  Phooey!  Suffice it to say that issues and concerns with family hit us, as well as a health insurance policy that was cancelled due to an error by the insurance company and could not be reinstated and a Scottsdale house that became the explosive relief valve when sewer contractors dumped a whole tanker load of chlorinated water into a sewer line that they had just abandoned.  Overlooked was the fact that our house was connected to this line.  Rugs, bathroom cabinets, drywall and even tile floors were damaged, necessitating the removal of all furniture and personal effects before extensive and costly repairs could begin. The First Mate was left wishing the house had exploded or imploded.  Life would have been easier then.  Remove the debris and rebuild from scratch!  Ah, well …. On another tack, world problems did not make returning to home port with its 24/7 access to news any nicer.  The list of sad tidings runs on and on.  Floods, earthquakes, tornadoes and tsunamis of a natural phenomena.  Political maneuverings, financial hardships, Middle East unrest.  Countries doing their own exploding and imploding.  More wars “righteously” waged over questionable reasons and gains.  What a dismal start to 2011 for the world, and for us onboard s/v Avante, we have never had so many trials hit us in such a short time!  The First Mate is not by nature a pessimistic person;  yet she cannot quite get rid of an uneasy sense of foreboding.

Monday, March 28th – With brand-new health insurance cards duly processed, the Scottsdale house left in capable hands, family concerns somewhat resolved, cats left to their own devices and dog dropped off with his buddy, Kelly, The Captain and The First Mate fly to New Zealand where Avante is patiently waiting.   New Zealand is as up-to-date as any country could wish when it comes to being in tune to and connected to world events, but where we are now tucked away in the Opua Marina, we might as well be on the far side of the moon.  Internet connections on the boat are weak and intermittent.  The only radio station we receive on the boat speaks in the Maori language.  We cannot connect our TV because of the power differences, and not even the one cafe in the marina has a TV.  We are effectively out of touch.  Our worries and concerns, though always present, lessen.  One learns not to cogitate over things over which one has no control — or at least to “push them mostly to the back of one’s mind” thinks The First Mate who is looking forward to a full night’s sleep cradled on her gently rocking boat.

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We set the autopilot and prepare to settle back to watch the scenery unfold, but the autopilot has a mind of its own!  Taking control of the wheel, it starts to turn us in a circle.  We quickly turn it off and grab the wheel before we gybe.  What’s wrong?  We try again.  Same thing happens.  This could ruin our whole trip.  We cannot and will not take off for the islands without an autopilot.  We sail on to our intended anchorage for the night, Oke Bay, where instead of a much-anticipated rest, The Captain is going to have to trouble shoot the problem with the opinionated autopilot.

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The next morning, all morning, The Captain works on the autopilot.  He determines that a rudder position reference device (RRU) on the autopilot is way out of calibration, but he has no idea how to recalibrate it. His creative ingenuity and the system manual both fail him.  We must return to Opua in order to contact the people that serviced the system to find out what they did or did not do to it.  Back to the marina we go.  The much-irritated Captain calls the B&G dealer that did the recent $1300 overhaul of the autopilot system, and as the previous blog (Fueling the New Zealand Economy) details, the New Zealand B&G dealer is not helpful. He does not know how to recalibrate the RRU and insists that his people would not have touched it. The Captain finds this absurd, as you have to remove the RRU to take apart the unit that was allegedly overhauled. The Captain sends out emails to B&G headquarters in England and to some contacts in the States.

Wednesday, April 13th – First thing in the morning, The Captain receives two emails. B&G headquarters suggests we may have to buy a new unit (Huh?) and a friend from the States sends directions on how to calibrate the RRU. Calibration done, we head out to test it. Clearing the last channel marker, with fingers crossed, we turn on autopilot.  It works!  Though The Captain was fairly positive the adjustments he had made would work, we had to be out on the water for the real test.  What a relief!  We are now set to go!

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With 6 large islands and about 140 smaller islands, the Bay of Islands is aptly named.  None of the islands are now inhabited, though the area was once densely populated by the Maori prior to the arrival of the Europeans.  It remains an important area to the Maoris, for it was here that the Treaty of Waitangi was signed in 1840 giving Britain sovereignty of the nation in return for protection of the inhabitants.  For the rest of the Kiwis and tourists alike, the islands and mainland coast comprise a scenic wonderland to be explored by car, by boat and on foot.  We soon discover that there are trails cutting through and around most of the islands and on the mainland, too.  One of the activities we have missed the most as we crossed the Pacific is hiking.  Though one can always trek along a dusty, hot road on the islands, few of them have what one would call a hiking trail.  New Zealanders love to hike.  It’s a national pastime, and we are more than ready to take part.  Ah …. New Zealand …. it is a wonderful country!

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Returning to Avante, we raise anchor to do a bit of exploring along a few coastal bays before dropping anchor in Waipao Bay on Moturua Island.   It is just after 4:00, yet we decide to head ashore to hike the island.  There is a great trail that circumnavigates the island.  Can we make it around before dark even with The First Mate’s frequent stops to take pictures?

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Friday, April 15th – A low is coming in over New Zealand.  A storm warning with winds gusting up to 50 knots has been issued.  Our next planned stop had been the rugged Cavalli Islands.  The Captain decides that they are too exposed and that we are going to head further north to anchor in one of the bays of Whangaroa Harbor.  With an expected trip of almost 40nm, we raise anchor at 0830.  Leaving the shelter of the island, we encounter good winds, raise sails and have a wonderful passage.  At 1420, we are motoring through the entrance to Whangaroa Harbor.  The harbor itself is huge with several smaller bays.  We turn right into Pekapeka Bay and then continue on to anchor in Waitepipi Bay in the northwest corner.

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We spend 3 days snug in the harbor.  It is rainy, but winds inside rarely reach 30 knots.  We work on our usual boat projects and get ourselves more organized for the passage ahead.  In between rain showers, we dingy up a nearby river and tour the harbor below the town of Whangaroa. 

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Leaving Whangaroa Harbor, we head south, and in light winds, we motor to the north end of Motukawanui Island (aka Big Cavalli Island) where we drop anchor.  Launching the dingy, we motor around the island before heading ashore for a hike.

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The First Mate would love to see a Kiwi in its natural habitat, but they are nocturnal creatures.  We would have to return to this island at night, and The Captain has absolutely no interest in crawling around the scrub at night looking for a bird.  The First Mate understands.  Leaving a cozy boat to take to a dark sea to land on a dark coast to hunker down in a dark hollow to wait for a dark, not particularly attractive, squatty bird to walk by might not be everyone’s cup of tea.

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A bit further on, there is a map of the trails crisscrossing the area.  We head off on one, but it soon becomes more of a bushwhacking venture as we scramble up along the ridge line following a faint trail that obviously had not recently been used.  Not being ones to turn around and with no one around to ask directions even if we (The Captain) were inclined to do so, we continue up through the bramble, for up is the way we know we have to go. 

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The trek meanders along the ridge of the island.  If we had overnight gear and had booked ahead with the park service, we could have hiked all the way to Cape Brett and spent the night in a backpackers’ hut.  We figure it is something like a 9-hour hike just to get there.  Maybe next year!

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Knowing that there is no way we can make it all the way to Cape Brett and back in one day, we decide to do a loop that will take us to Oke Bay where we will leave the trail to follow the road to another trail that will take us back across to Whangamumu Bay, our anchorage.   This is going to give us a longer hike than we had anticipated, but the alternative is to turn around and retrace our steps.  Who wants to do that?  Not us!  We stop for lunch overlooking Oke Bay and then hike down and out to the road.  It is a hot, long, dusty hike up the road.  The Captain thinks he knows where the trail should cut off to lead us back to our bay, and it should be marked as everything so far has been well marked — but what if it isn’t?  The hike up the road becomes a drudge.  Our one bottle of water each is running low.  “Plan ahead” was definitely not the MO for this venture.  It’s hot, dry and dusty.  “Are we even going the right way?” wonders the directionally-challenged First Mate.  All her faith now rests in The Captain because after all the ups and downs, ins and outs, and windings arounds of this trek, she has no idea where home (Avante) is located.

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Friday, April 22nd – Our short “vacation” cruise of the area around the Bay of Islands is over.  We must return to Opua Marina to attend to the final details of our up-coming passage to Tonga. 

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As we near the slot, we see kayakers paddling up to and around the rock.  “That would be fun to do,” thinks The First Mate who has already decided that an inflatable kayak is going to be with her on their next return from the States.  The Captain is near to apoplectic about the amount of stuff she has packed on his boat.  It’s the classic age-worn scenario.  His stuff is necessary.  Her stuff is excess baggage.  Somewhat resigned, as he must be, to the fact of the impending kayak, he quips that she has plenty of hot air to blow up the thing.  Calmly and reasonably, she explains to him that one does not blow the kayak up with one’s internal air, hot or otherwise.  One uses a foot pump which we just so happen to already have on the boat.  It inflates the dinghy.  If it can blow up that thing, it certainly can inflate her much more svelte kayak.   He remains skeptical.  She remains determined.

Sailing into the passage between the mainland and the island, the winds become flukey.  They are being blocked by the island.  We adjust the sails accordingly.  We have plenty of room to maneuver, and we feel we have enough forward movement to get us through the passage without having to turn on the engine.   Slowly, we edge pass the island, and the winds fill in steadily again.  We ease the sails and head for the entrance to the Bay of Islands. 

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We pass Tapeka Point and Fraser Rock.  Approaching the first of the channel markers, we turn the engine on and drop sails to motor up Veronica Channel to the marina.

1520 – Captain’s Log:  “Tied up in Opua Marina, Dock B-30.”