Gale Force Winds Over Great Barrier Island
Sunday, January 31st – By the time of our March 1st return to the States, Avante will be at the Opua Marina in the Bay of Islands. Leaving Great Mercury Island, thus, ends our exploration of new territories and starts our journey north into mostly familiar areas and anchorages. We will make a return visit to Great Barrier Island for a few days, look for the right weather window and then cut across the 80 or so miles NW to the mainland aiming for the old whaling station in Whangamumu Harbour just south of Cape Brett.
0830 – With a tinge of regret, we leave our beautiful bay on Great Mercury Island. Under mostly cloudy skies and with 15 knots of wind, we raise sails and sail SW around Sister Rocks. Once clear, we gybe to head NW toward Great Barrier Island.
The First Mate sets out the fishing rod. She has been totally unsuccessful in all attempts at hooking a fish either by trolling a line behind the boat or by fishing from the anchored boat. It is most discouraging to this determined fisherwoman who wants to put food on the table. The Captain is a fly fisherman, and he regards ocean fishing with an entirely different perspective. Fly fishing to him is an active sport requiring knowledge and skill. Ocean fishing to him is boring. Throw out a hook and hope something is stupid enough to strike. While fishing to her is all about food, fishing to him is a contest of teasing a fish into taking the fly, reeling it in and then setting it free. “What good is that?” she thinks. (Sorry dear fly fisher people friends!)
0935 – Zing! Holy cow, we have a fish! The Captain springs to the rod while The First Mate turns the boat into the wind and brings in the jib to slow the boat down so The Captain can reel in the fish. It’s a fighter and strong! We can’t tell what kind of fish it is just yet, but we know it’s a good sized one. Hopefully, it will be a good one to eat, too. Suddenly, The Captain exclaims, “Oh, no! He’s gone!” After straining to reel in the line, it suddenly goes dead, limp, nothing there. Oh, wait, yes, it’s there! It must have been swimming toward the boat. The Captain keeps reeling, but though there is weight on the line, the fight has gone out of it. Minutes later, we learn why.
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We did have a big fish, probably a nice King Fish, but something bigger ate it. We are left with the head and gills. What an ignominious end for our fish! Snagged on one end and eaten on the other! Poor thing.
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We have heard other cruisers tell of this same sad event, but it had never happened to us. What a disappointment! We throw back the head and set out the line. A short while later, we have another fish, but this one spits the hook. Guess it just is not going to be our day.
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Some days later, talking to a fisherman on the dock in Whangaparapara Harbour, The First Mate learns that though it may have been a shark that ate her fish, it could also have been another King Fish, for they tend to swim in schools. A hooked fish is struggling and becomes a target for any near-by bigger fish. It’s not uncommon, but that does not ease the sense of loss. That was her fish!
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Rounding Shag Point and approaching Tryphenia Harbour as we sail along the western coast of Great Barrier Island, we see dark grey, ominous clouds rolling towards us. No way are we going to escape this one. Rain jackets on, hunkered under the dodger, wind and rain pummel us. Winds are 19 to 21 knots. Avante races along at 11.0 knots. 10 knots we see quite often, but not 11. That was a thrill even with the rain.
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We sail into Whangaparapara Harbour and take down our sails to motor over to a small cove behind Lighthouse Point on the left side of the bay where we had anchored last time. There usually are fewer boats here, and it’s away from the more congested inner part of the harbor near the dock. The bay we are in is nicknamed Grave Yard Bay because there is a very small, old gravesite perched on the hill.
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The plan when we left Gulf Harbour Marina was to cruise for 3 weeks with no expectations of a place to get rid of our trash. Plastic containers, like the ones berries and eggs come in, are a bulky problem. They do not stay compressed when stomped on, popping back up obstinately. We need a trash compactor. Never fear! The Captain has devised one. An empty juice bottle is the holder, the wooden handle of a spatula is the plunger, and The Captain is the ramming rod. Cut up the containers into smaller pieces and just keep stuffing them in the bottle until it’s about busting. Who needs a heavy, stinky trash compactor?
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Monday, February 1st – It’s a great day for a hike! We dinghy over to the dock to start a trek around and across to the other side of the harbor to the site of an old logging mill. The harbor itself looks serene under the amazing blue sky.
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Huge, gnarly trees with large bromeliads clinging to their thick limbs grow along the shoreline and provide welcome shade.
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We leave the road to follow the trek out to the old mill. A field of wild flowers reminds us of our summer hikes in the mountains of Colorado, except it is winter there now. With reports of 30+ inches of fresh powder on those ski slopes, we are jealous, for this is a winter we are spending most of our time on the boat. Hopefully, the snow will be good for the one week in March we will be there!
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A wooden bridge across a stream takes The First Mate’s mind off those thoughts. Bright hydrangea, one of her favorite flowers, grow wildly along its banks.
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The trail starts out well-maintained and lined with tall fern trees. It’s delightful walking along the graveled path in the dappled shade.
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Even a meandering walk to the other side of the bay here in New Zealand becomes an uphill/downhill slog. The trail degenerates to a dirt track which winds steeply and muddily up hill. Taking a resigned deep breath and grabbing any available branch or vine in case of a downward slip, The First Mate tromps on following The Captain who does occasionally look back to make sure she is still there.
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Shortly before reaching the site of the mill, we find an old steam engine to which someone had given a good coat of Rust-Oleum. It is quite the artifact standing there all alone in the woods.
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The mill site proves to be a disappointment. The area is swampy with logs and tall weeds blockong any approach, and there are no informative signs indicating what once was. It was a good hike, though, with a few nice views of the bay.
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Stopping to buy a carton of long-life milk at Great Barrier Lodge, The First Mate notices that they sell fish bait. That’s what she needs! For the snapper which are supposed to be everywhere in the Hauraki Gulf, we have been using something called soft bait which kind of looks like a Gummy Bear Fish with a hula skirt. What self-respecting fish would go after that? Obviously none because she has caught none. She purchases a box of frozen squid. Okay, fish, here she comes!
After dinner, the two set out in the dinghy to fish off the point at the entrance to the harbor. The Captain has a rod set with soft bait. The First Mate’s rod is loaded with bits of sweet-smelling squid tentacles. At least, she figures squid must be sweet-smelling to a snapper, and she uses the tentacles because she imagines that the wiggling wisps will attract them further. Within minutes she has a bite. Whoopee! She reels it in enthusiastically. Too small. Back it goes. Another bite. A keeper. Before long, two good-sized snapper are flopping in the bottom of the dinghy, both from her squid-stocked rig. Dinner tomorrow night is assured. The Captain’s soft bait pulls in nothing. We continue fishing into the evening, for it is pleasant sitting out there in the boat just drifting along. As darkness settles in, we rev up the engine to head back to Avante. At the same time, we notice from across the bay the lights of a motorboat coming towards us. Does it see us in the gloom? We make an abrupt change of direction. It swerves toward us. What is going on? The First Mate looks at her two fish. Maybe we have done something wrong, and this is a Game Warden boat or something like that. We slow down and turn toward the boat because obviously it is us they are chasing. It turns out that a concerned couple on their anchored boat thought we were in trouble bobbing around off the coast so late into the evening. We thank them profusely and tell them we were just enjoying the evening with a little bit of fishing thrown in for fun.
Tuesday, February 2nd – A trek to the Hot Springs is our goal for today. The Maori considered these hot springs as very special places and used them for spiritual cleansing, especially after battle. The trek is a combination of well-maintained trail and muddy dirt track with a few really dicey areas to navigate. Along the way, we are pleased to see many young Kauris. In an out-of-print Kindle book The First Mate is reading about a British sailor who ended up the only survivor of a ship that was raided and destroyed by a Maori tribe, there is a description of an ancient Kauri forest.
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Back then, walking through a Kauri forest was an impressive undertaking. In every direction massively thick trunks could be seen. The undergrowth would have been thick and dank, for the thick green foliage of the Kauris would have kept the sun from shedding light onto the forest floor. What an experience walking among those ancient Kauris must have been!
We stop to admire a Kauri growing not far off the trail.
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The Hot Springs area is prettily laid out with benches to sit upon and a picnic table, though it is a bit too manicured for our tastes. The Captain takes a dip, but The First Mate is not that interested. While sitting at the picnic table for lunch, a couple appear walking down from a trail across the stream. They tell us there is a “locals’ pool” down that path. “It’s hidden but easy to find. Just follow the path to its end. Then walk up the stream to the pool.
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We do just that and find a hidden pool amid a jumble of rocks and overhanging branches. It’s all quite off the beaten path. “This is more like it,” announces The First Mate who climbs right in after The Captain. It’s perfect body-temperature water, and there’s even a small cascading water fall.
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Returning to the dock, we meet Katherine & Keith Smith who are anchored near Avante. We invite them over, and an intended short visit goes into several hours as we enjoy the conversation. They live in Gulf Harbour, and their boat is berthed in the marina. We assure them we will find them when we return to New Zealand and Gulf Harbour in two years. For the most part, yachties tend to stay to themselves and do little visiting to encourage new friendships. We are as guilty of that as the next boat. However, whenever we or anyone reaches out, the meetings are always invariably good. We should do more of it!
Wednesday, February 4th – Destination: Bowling Alley Bay. What a strange name for a watery cove! The First Mate pictures something like a fjord: a long, narrow bay with steep rocky sides, but Bowling Alley Bay proves to be very large, round and open. Bowling Alley? She would love to know the origin of that name. There are 2 spots of interest here. One is a fresh water stream with pools that can be used for bathing. The other is a cave at the entrance to the bay.
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Studying the shores of the bay, we locate the stream. Well, really it is more of a rivulet that trickles down and over a rocky ledge. Climbing up, we find 2 small stagnant pools not at all conducive to bathing.
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The First Mate is determined to follow the stream into the woods for at least a little while. It leads into a delightful glade with the stream trickling through it. What a great place for a picnic — if only they had not already eaten!
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Back in the dinghy, we motor out the harbor to the outer wall where the cave is said to be located. We have seen many such caves created by the heavy-duty action of ocean on rocks. Another cave? Ho-hum. We almost did not venture forth, but what a surprise awaited us! This was more than a cave. It was a tunnel going through the cliff to the bay on the other side. Our sailing book had not mentioned that. All it said was that kayaks and swimmers sometimes enjoying going inside.
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The opening is narrow, maybe too shallow. Can we slither through in the dinghy? We do! What a treat to be inside. The current pulls us gently into the quiet darkness.
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On both sides of us, rough, sharp-edged boulders line the narrow corridor. Fortunately, the current is slow enough that The Captain has no problem steering us clear of them.
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Slowly The Captain turns the dinghy around in the small pool. Exiting the narrow cave, it is a relief to be back in the wide, bright bay again
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That evening as we are finishing up a peaceful dinner anchored amongst 4 other boats all nicely separated, our AIS starts its high-pitched alarm. Something is bearing down on us! We look out toward the opening of the bay. No! It cannot be! A cruise ship is coming around the corner and heading for Bowling Alley Bay. Fortunately, it is not a BUFF as cruisers jeeringly call the really large cruise ships. Big Ugly Fat F – – – er — The First Mate leaves the final word to the reader’s imagination. This one is a much smaller cruise ship, but it is big, dwarfing everything else in the bay and potentially invading our peace. It anchors practically on top of a motor yacht causing it to later move to a safer distance. The First Mate figures that the captain of the tour boat had a big X on his chart with GPS coordinates. That was where he was told to anchor and that is where he is going to anchor. So, he did. End of discussion!
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Staring at the tour boat, grateful that it is nowhere near us, we notice a vast rippling of the water out near the boat. What’s that? Dolphins! The tour boat brought in the dolphins! So there is one nice thing we can say about this cruise ship.
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For 45 minutes, they swim and leap around the bay. What a display! We had not seen anything like this since Fiji. Two kayaks from a neighboring boat set out into the bay with them. What a thrill that must have been!
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Thursday, February 2nd – With continued radio updates warning boaters of gales force winds coming from the NE tonight, we are going to Port Fitzroy where we know we can find shelter in one of its many bays. Under overcast skies, we head out and are shortly able to raise the jib, turn off the engine and sail. For close to an hour, we sail though a grouping of stoney, eroded islands aptly called Broken Islands.
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This is not an area one would want to be wandering through on a dark and stormy night, but for us, though the day is dismal, the way is clear and the passage is deep. We sail on fascinated by the changing shapes.
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1135 – Sail furled, we motor through Man Of War Passages into Port Fitzroy.
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1205 – Anchored in Kiwiriki Bay with a number of other boats seeking shelter from the coming gale force winds.
Thursday night’s gale force winds? Nada! Nothing! All 15 or so boats swung around haphazardly on their anchor chains. Now nobody likes gale force winds either at anchor or at sea so we would not wish for them, but both The Captain and The First Mate wonder how the forecast could be so wrong!
We stay in Kiwiriki Bay another day, for they are calling for gale force winds again tonight, and one really doesn’t ignore such warnings. Plus it is overcast with occasional bouts of rain. Where would we go and why? We stay put.
The First Mate talks the reluctant Captain into taking out the dinghy for another round of fishing. Captain’s Log: We went out fishing in the dinghy and brought back 4 snappers. Sue was the champ with 8 fish and 3 of the 4 decent sized ones. First Mate’s note: We have figured out snapper fishing: use squid! The Captain dispatches the fish, guts them and hands them over to The First Mate to descale. Two nights’ worth of dinners we have. She is so delighted!
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Still in need of something to do, The Captain hauls out our inflatable kayak (aka: Sharky), inflates it and sets off across the bay. We have not had Sharky out in years and were pleased to see it had not rotted and still floated!
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Friday’s gale force winds? A bit gustier at about 10 – 15 knots. Hardly gale force , but we are not complaining.
Saturday, February 6th – Weather conditions have not improved, but in need of a change of scenery, we motor around the bend, a short 4 miles, and drop anchor in Forestry Bay. A boat we know is also at anchor. Diana from Eniki II had kayaked over to meet us when we were all in Whangaparapara Harbour a few days ago. Launching the dinghy, we motor over to invite them for cocktails aboard Avante that evening and then head into the enclave of Port Fitzroy for a short hike and to buy a few groceries at the tiny convenience store.
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Later on Avante, we joke with Diana and Alex about the gale force winds that never showed. They look at us in amazement. Last night, while we were peacefully floating in benign conditions a mere 3 miles away as the crow flies, they were enduring 40-knot gusts barreling down on them. Both bays are the same orientation and offer the same shelter, but one caught the wind and the other did not. There was nothing magical in our choice of bays. We just lucked out!
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Sunday, February 7th – For the past few days, our plan has been to leave Great Barrier Island and sail NE to Whangamumu Harbour. Though not officially part of the Bay of Islands, it is a lovely anchorage on the mainland just below Cape Brett. Today had looked to be the first day this 80-mile trip could be possible with a weather forecast of clearing last night and decent winds from the E allowing us a good sail. We wake up, instead, to rain and low visibility. Add in gusting winds, and it’s a discouraging decision to stay put for another day. Not until late in the afternoon do we see any blue sky giving us some hope that we can leave tomorrow.
Monday, February 8th – 0730 – We are on the move! Though still mostly cloudy, winds are from the NE at about 5 – 8 knots. We raise the main and motor-sail into Port Abercrombie under light and variable winds that are partially blocked by the land. Once we round the western end of Port Abercrombie and are heading out to sea away from land, winds pick up to 8 – 10 knots. Jib is pulled out. Engine is off. We’re sailing!
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Though clouds remain heavy over land, the further out we sail, the better the weather becomes as the clouds lighten allowing sun to shine through brightening our day. Winds continue to increase to 10 – 15 knots and then to 20 – 22 knots. It’s a great sail, though The First Mate begins to feel the affect of the swell from the ocean as we clear the protected waters of the Hauraki Gulf. She keeps it all together by sitting in her favorite perch with the cool wind blowing. Lunch is instant Cup-A-Soup and sliced apple. That’s all she can muster up and handle!
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The fishing line is deployed. Our hopes are set on a King Fish. Two strikes, but reeled in, they prove too small. It’s a chore and a challenge in heavy winds and seas to turn the boat into the wind, slow her down and to reel in a fish in those conditions. A third strike yields a keeper. It’s not a King Fish. It’s some kind of tuna, but by now, we are tired of the drill and also aware that we have a long day ahead of us if we want to reach harbor before dark. By mutual consensus, we agree that we will not attempt fishing when winds and seas are this heavy. It is just too much of a job on a sailboat, especially for The Captain who also has to gut it and cut it up on the rolling ship. The First Mate stores the fish in the freezer while The Captain washes down the aft cockpit with buckets of sea water. Yes, definitely too much work and too much mess in rough seas!
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1300 – Captain’s Log: We are halfway there. Winds have been 18 – 22 kts. for the last several hours, and we are making good speed.
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Relaxing in the cockpit with sails up and autopilot on, The Captain is fully at ease.
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By the time we reach the first of the Poor Knights Islands winds have dropped to 14 – 16 kts, and our speed falls accordingly as we continue our NW trek toward Cape Brett. We have been sailing right of the rhumbline to keep the jib flying, but with the need to turn left if we want to sail into Whangamumu Harbour, we furl the jib so we can sail deeper into the wind.
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1810 – Captain’s Log: We gybe and sail a course straight into Whangamumu Harbour.
1845 – Anchored in Whangamumu Harbour with 4 other sailboats. The trip across was 81 miles and took 11 hours. Long day, yes, but what a great sail!