North Isand, New Zealand
12/09/2004 - 12/18/2004
Robin takes the helm as we sail out of Opua Marina in search of our first great anchorage. A forecast gale for the next day (25 gusting to 40 knots) helps us select our first stop, Waipiro Bay.
Leaving Opua Marina
After a month in Opua Marina, we finished our North Island land travel (for now) and it was again time to move along. Before sailing to Auckland, we wanted to spend a few weeks in the Bay of Islands. The large bay on the northeast side of the North Island between Cape Brett and the Purerua Peninsula contains six large islands and a few dozen smaller islands. The mainland-side peninsulas, bays, and river outlets (between these capes) are dotted with dozens of anchorages. The hiking ("tramping" in kiwi-speak) is superb with lots of groomed trails ("tracks") through the forests ("bush").
Our first attempt to have a discussion with a Kiwi (the person, not the fruit/bird) about the bay of Islands was an adventure in linguistics. Even though we all speak English, our slang, accents, and local dialects have conspired to make conversations harder than anticipated.
Whisper's Route. Nine days in the Bay of Islands provided us with a great overview of the islands and the mainland shore. From Russell (lower left), to Oke Bay (far right), we explored both island and mainland bays. Of the "visited" islands, the first island on the left is Roberton. The two middle islands are "the M" islands of Moturua and Motukiekie, and the rightmost-lower of the stack of three islands on the right is Urupukapuka. The arrow (upper right) is our departure route from Oke Bay toward Cape Brett. Waipiro Bay is the lower right bay on the mainland, and the three small bays in the lower center are small bays under the Orokawa Peninsula where se sought refuge from high winds. The loop at the top is our trip near Whale rock.
The schooner R. Tucker Thompson appears around Tapeka Point and Fraser Rock.
While relaxing in Tonga, we met a Kiwi couple staying on a chartered yacht. When we asked them where they were from, the husband said "Nauk". Duncan said he wasn't familiar with it, "Where is it located? North or South Island?" To this the Kiwi-husband responded, "eee'zonly the beegis-sitty'n the hole kun ree." After a few seconds pause, we (four Americans, working together on this) were able to translate that to "It's only the biggest city in the whole country". To which we responded, "Really? We haven't heard of Nauk, we thought Auckland was the biggest city...". To which Kiwi-wife replied, "That's wot-eee sid, Nauk'lin!
Ahhhh, the four American's chorused together -- "in Auckland!"
The exasperated Kiwi-couple did not find us in any way amusing and promptly dropped all further attempts to communicate.
With another Kiwi in Tonga, we said we were going to sail around the north part of the North Island of New Zealand, to which he replied, "you'll love the bee'o violence". Quickly we tried to decipher why this new strain of killer bee might be something we'd love. Processing... processing... translation possibility: "Bay of Islands". That's it! "Yes, yes, we'll love the Bay of Islands" we'd say in an overly excited, self-congratulatory way. Kiwi's must get a kick out of communicating with Americans. Say something. Watch the American while momentarily dumbfounded (as they stare just beyond your left ear for 3 to 10 seconds), then suddenly resume eye contact and excitedly answer your question or respond to your statement with a goofy smile and self-congratulatory head nodding.
The R. Tucker Thompson passes Whisper on a beautiful afternoon sailing between anchorages.
Heavy Traffic
After months of relaxing in quiet tropical anchorages and wrestling with only a few ferries and renegade powerboats, we have been thrust headlong into a very popular boating region. Suddenly, we are looking not for the occasional freighter, but literally dozens of boats (of all kinds) that are plying the same waters, on the same routes, but at speeds in excess of anything we've seen -- well, since the Maupiti Express anyway.
Numerous tourist boats operate in the Bay of Islands. One, the Mack Attack, travels the 10+ Nautical miles out to the "Hole in the Rock" at Cape Brett in about 20 minutes. These guys move fast. Ever time we moved anchorages, we dodged numerous commercial vessels and a few dozen private powerboats on our way around the Bay of Islands. As a slow moving sailboat, we have learned to stay out of their way.
The day sailing catamaran Carino NZ motors by on its way to Russell.
Dolphin Discovery blasts around Tapeka Point on their (several times) daily rounds of the Bay of Islands.
The Mack Attack flies by Whisper on its way to "Hole in the Rock" and around the Bay of Islands. The competing go-fast boat Excitor was in the boat yard for repairs, so Mack Attack had all the local jet boat business.
The large power cat Tiger III, operated by Fullers Tours was a popular way to see the bay of Islands. The $2M NZ ferry was lost on the rocks at Cape Brett on December 18th. More on this at the end of the log.
On The Edge, a speedy day sailing charter catamaran zips up and down the bay each day.
The Tangaroa III visited Whisper in every anchorage we settled in. The vessel sought calm anchorages every day in order to serve afternoon tea.
Many homes and small vacation "bachelor" homes (or "bach's") covered the mainland and some island hillsides and beaches.
Our first Bay of Islands anchorage destination Paraenui Bay was described as one of the cruising guide author's favorite -- with a "good beach on shore with pine forest behind". Obviously, the guide was written before this bay was logged clean. Not a pine remains.
So, we moved on to Waipiro Bay, just around the corner. The Douglas Fir is still standing here (for now) and the bay is full of moorings and boats. We anchored behind the point on the right and were fairly protected from two days of strong west winds.
Nestled on this pretty point overlooking Waipiro and Parekura Bays are several beautiful homes.
One of the homes, barely visible in the photo left, appears among the trees when the telephoto zooms in.
From Waipiro bay, the back-side of the logged out cove. The land has been grazed smooth, to create hundreds of horizontal terraces in the grass.
Dozens of these Banded Galloway's (an interesting bovine with a white band around its belly) covered a hillside of Waipiro Bay.
Tea time on Tangaroa III. While sitting in Waipiro Bay, Tangaroa III came by for a tour of the bay and to enjoy afternoon tea. In one bay, they hovered abeam of Whisper and we had a nice chat with the skipper.
Of our almost three days in Waipiro, all of them were windy, and one day we saw gusts to 36 knots. Robin enjoyed the weather, reading or working on her new "Kiwi-theme" needlepoint. Her first needlepoint project ever.
Duncan huddled below avoiding the wind and gloom. He read and worked on the website, emerging only to take an occasional photograph when the clouds and rain cleared (which Robin claims happened for at least a whole afternoon).
We did not inflate the dinghy and we didn't go ashore, so in this respect Waipiro was kind of a dud, but it was nice to be out of the major wind and fetch. By the 12th, the clouds cleared, the rain stopped, the seas calmed, and we were ready to move out to the islands. We were also anxious to get off the boat and explore ashore.
Urupukapuka Island
Our first choice with the best protection from the next forecast northwest blow was Urupukapuka Bay on the southeast corner of Urupukapuka Island. We had a nice motor-sail over, anchored, inflated the dinghy, and finally made it ashore. Although a cloudy and cool day, it was dry and the hiking was fun.
From the top of the hill on Urupukapuka Island, we have a great view of the Otehei Bay where the ferry drops off passengers at the small camp resort on the island.
The beach in Urupukapuka Bay. This is the bay where Whisper spent her couple of days on Urupukapuka.
Urupukapuka Island Hike
The Urupukapuka hillsides were covered with sheep (and sheep dung) and the hikers roam freely with the sheep. The sky was overcast, but the ground was dry, so we took advantage of the weather respite and went for a hike.
We found the ferry landing and the only restaurant, store, and camp on the island. We had lunch and relaxed while contemplating our plan for the next day or two.
All of the Kauri forest and most of the native bush has been removed from Urupukapuka Island. The Kauri was in great demand for early shipbuilders and the native bush was cleared for grazing.
Another view of the same bay. Water visibility is about 20 feet and it's cold! We never saw warmer than 60° F. This doesn't deter the hearty Kiwi's from taking a nice refreshing swim!
Shout (our dinghy) rests high and dry on the sandy beach. A 6-9 ft tidal range requires more vigilance when picking an anchoring depth.
One of hundreds of sheep roaming Urupukapuka Island. The hiking trails wound up, around, and over the sheep (poop) covered hillsides.
A brief period of clearing sky provides a sun spattered view of Whisper (center), the Bay Of Islands, and east toward Cape Brett. We will climb the 1200 ft high peak in the background -- Pukehuia, when we are in Oke Bay.
Ancient Maori forts or defensive villages called a "Pa" were located on most strategic geographic "points" on the Northland and its islands. This is a view south from one Pa site.
The view from the Pa site overlooking a pretty bay to the west. Looking southwest toward Russell and Opua.
Another view from the same Pa site looking west. The head of same foreground bay in the prior picture.
Robin stands next to one of the enormous Pohutukawa, or "Christmas Trees" on Urupukapuka Island. The red flowers on the tree blossom around Christmas time, thus the name.
Two destructive introduced species. The purple thistle and a sod webworm. Maybe they'll kill each other?
We saw some evidence of introduced species (beside humans and livestock) and there is an ongoing possum eradication program. There were very nice pit toilets and showers on a few of the larger beaches. Camping groups arrive via boat and set up for their holiday camp on shore. Camping fees are $6 NZ per person per day.
After hiking the island, we took the dinghy around the eastern shore of the island and found lots of cliffs, cracks, crevices and caves. The beaches were very rocky with waves surging in and out of the crevices, so we did not venture ashore, but the landscape was interesting.
That evening, new friends Jeff and Deirdre on Vesper invited us over for wine and snacks, and we ended up staying on for a delicious dinner. Since it is their second season here, we learned about all sorts of cool improvements they made to Vesper while in New Zealand last year.
Urupukapuka is a recreational destination for thousands of Kiwi boaters as well as the few visitors/campers that get out to the islands via ferry. It was our first Bay of Islands "island experience" and we were looking forward to exploring more of the islands -- on sunny, warm summer days.
The weather was forecast to clear the next day. We were getting low on provisions and our mail drop arrived at the Opua Marina. We decided to return to Russell for a day before exploring other islands.
Needing a quick trip into Russell, we grabbed a mooring for the day.
Russell, Paihia & Opua Day Trip
After a few days in Waipiro and Urupukapuka, it was time to re-visit civilization. Our mail arrived at the Opua Marina office, we had some shopping to do, and we needed a trip to the Internet cafe to check on some "South Island Travel Plan" things.
We decided to split up the tasks, leaving Robin in Russell, while sending Duncan to Opua via the Russell-to-Paihia ferry. Once in Paihia, he Duncan caught the round-trip shuttle van to Opua Marina, He got the mail and caught the same shuttle van back to Paihia. Duncan was back in Russell by lunch time, and Robin was finished with Internet travel planning and ready for lunch.
Paihia from the Russell-to-Paihia Ferry. Paihia is the most "touristy" of all the towns in the Northland. It is a hub for most Northland tourist activities.
We had an excellent lunch at a local cafe, then finished our shopping. With a dinghy-load full of provisions, we motored back to the boat.
It was only 3 PM on this exceptionally beautiful day -- one of the best we've had in New Zealand -- so we decided that with at least 4-5 hours of daylight left (summer here, it gets dark after 9 PM), we could make it out to Roberton Island.
Roberton (Motuarohia) Island panorama -- looking east from the viewing platform on the center hill of the island. Whisper swings at anchor on the right.
Roberton (Motuarohia) Island
We left Russell in the late afternoon and motored over to Roberton (Maori name "Motuarohia") Island. We needed a couple days of settled weather to enjoy the fairly exposed "Twin Cove" anchorage on the south shore.
The forecast for a couple days of decent weather, sent us immediately to the island and on an afternoon hike ashore.
On our way ashore, we stopped to say hello to the folks on Water Dragon. A fellow Baja Ha-Ha boat from the "class of 2002", and good friends of friends Ben & Lisa on Waking Dream, we finally got to meet them (well, Taryn anyway). Water Dragon came to the South Pacific last season, so they already have the experience of one summer in NZ.
Once ashore, we found a great, well marked, well maintained trail that went from the beach to the top of the island. At the top of the hill, we discovered a viewing platform that provided some great 360° panoramas and photo ops.
Unlike Urupukapuka, Roberton has suffered little impact from grazing livestock -- probably because it is smaller, narrower and steeper than Urupukapuka. Much of the native bush was intact, and the groomed trails wound over the dramatic geography of the island. Cooks bay, just to the west of our anchorage provided Captain Cook with one of his first landing sites in the Bay of Islands over 200 years ago.
An easterly view of the Roberton anchorage and the from the top of Roberton.
Roberton is probably the prettiest island in the Bay of Islands. Several aerial views of the island are featured in postcards at the tourist shops. It features clear water, sandy beaches, and interesting tidal pools that form at high tide on the windward side of the island.
Here again, the water was too cold (for us) to swim in, and the great weather held for only one day.
Another forecast low (blow from the northwest) sent us to nearby shelter behind the Orakawa peninsula. After blowing 20-30 knots from the northwest, the wind was supposed to shift around 30-40 from the west-southwest. Finding protection from all directions became the priority.
The view across the Albert Channel to Pukehuia (the big hill/small mountain) on the mainland toward Cape Brett.
Duncan shoots all the great views from the top of Roberton.
Including this one. Robin relaxes on the nice deck-platform. The deck and the long stairway up the hill was built by the Kiwi Army.
The view off to the west on a late afternoon. There is an incredible house on the top of the upper left peak. This north shore offers no protected anchorages.
Whisper swings at anchor off Roberton Island.
A couple gulls enjoy the sunset on Shout's stern. This particular type of red-billed gull is very beautiful and polite compared to the larger scavenging gulls of the west coast of North America.
Sunset illuminates a schooner off Roberton..
One of the better sunsets we've seen in New Zealand.
A "Swim with the Dolphins" boat off Roberton. It looks cold and clumsy to us as the giant net scoops up the shivering snorkelers (okay, so we couldn't see them shivering). We could barely see the dolphins they were trying to swim with.
Run from the Wind
We don't have any great pictures of the next couple of days. We left Roberton to the protection of the Orakawa peninsula. Winds were predicted in the 30-40 knot range with gusts to 50 knots. We spent two and a half days waiting out the blow without incident.
Robin continued to work on her Kiwi needlepoint and we started working on the web site update. We actually don't mind the big winds because we have an excuse to nap, read a book, work on a needlepoint, work on the website -- whatever -- without feeling like we need to be go-go-go exploring.
Once the weather cleared, we decided to make a run for it and either stop in the "M" islands or move on toward Oke Bay in preparation to round Cape Brett and head south toward Auckland.
Many days in the Bay of Islands brought clouds, light rain, and lots of wind. Locals say this is unusual. "It is usually nicer in December", they said. We heard a lot of that. In November and December we saw 1/3 sunshine, 1/3 gloomy but dry, and 1/3 lots of wind, gloom and rain. Allegedly, this is the coldest, wettest December in 50 years.
The north coast of the Bay of Islands around the Purerua Peninsula. On this cool, clear day it reminded us very much of the California coastline.
The tip of one of the "M" islands. Between Urapukapuka and Roberton lie the Moturua and Motukiekie islands. Lots of submerged rocks off these points.
Oke Bay
On agreat, clear day with a brief window of nice weather, we escaped the mainland anchorages of the Orakawa peninsula and motored over to the "M" (Moturua and Motukiekie) islands to check them out. As we motored between the "M" islands, we decided not to stay at them. Instead, we chose to enjoy the mellow morning cruise (we did a lot of motoring between islands). Leaving the "M" islands, we motor-sailed up and around the large group of three islands -- Urupukapuka, Waewaetorea, and Okahu islands -- rather than trying to pass between them. We could see breakers in the passages, so we decided not to risk the passes by "going around" the group of islands to the north.
"The Whale Rock Incident"
Once we rounded the north end of Okahu Island, Duncan asked Robin for a bearing to Oke Bay. Robin went below and looked at the electronic charts and discovered we were heading directly toward a large underwater rock -- "Whale Rock" -- that is barely submerged at low tide. There was no sign of the rock in the water, but the morning sunlight was making viewing difficult.
"You are heading right toward Whale Rock", came the information from below. Duncan turned 90 degrees to port. "How's this", he asked. "You're still heading right toward it.", came the revised report from below. "I can't be" came the emotional (i.e. voice raised) reply from the helm -- while turning another 90 degrees to port. With emotion now running high, helm-to-navigator communications degraded. When Duncan raises his voice 5 decibels above the maximum cooperation threshold, Robin focuses on thoughts of mutiny.
"Well, you're going to hit it", came one of the final communications from below. With Duncan worried (translate: freaking out) he was going to hit Whale rock while steering tight circles over the top of it, he just picked a spot on the Okahu island and steered toward it -- hopefully away from the unseen rock -- announcing what he's doing. "Good idea" came the response from below.
We did not hit Whale rock. We never saw Whale rock. A subsequent zoom-in on our track logged in the navigation software revealed us heading east right toward it, then just a few feet away from it, executing a tight 270 degree turn to the north, over to the west, then south. We were very lucky.
It was not one of our better cruising moments. Since this event, we agreed that the navigator only communicate to the helms-person the course to steer away from the danger.
Once safely anchored in Oke Bay -- a beautiful protected bay on the mainland-west side of Cape Brett, we decided to enjoy some time off the boat on a nice hike ashore. The lovely white-sand beach was just awaiting our arrival. A nude-sunbathing back-packer took a quick swim, packed up his gear, and left the beach as we arrived. There was only one other boat in the bay, so we looked forward to some solitude swinging at anchor in the clear green water. We were very excited that we could see 15 ft to the bottom! My how our standards have changed since Niue.
Once in Oke Bay, we decided to go ashore to explore, take a little hike, and snap a few photos.
This mellow beach looks like a great place to land the dinghy. Small waves. White sand. A tree to tie the dinghy to. Nice.
Splashdown!
For the second time in one day, Duncan found himself feeling he should have stayed in bed. A simple beach landing in about a one foot high surf jammed the dinghy bow into the soft sand and sent the stern and outboard high into the air. Both of us ended up soaked in the cold water with sand encrusted up to our waists. Shout was full of water and sand. Our hiking boots were soaked and filled with sand. The backpack got wet, but the camera gear in the hip-pack on Duncan's waist was spared -- one of the few times we had not put the camera in a dry bag. Who would have thought. Look how mellow this beach looks...
At this point, laughter was the best medicine. We drained the water and some of the sand from Shout. Attempts to remove the sand from our shoes and socks were futile. Oh well, let's go hiking. Upon return from the hike, Duncan claimed his feet were the softest and cleanest they have ever been. The moral of the story is to put sand in your shoes while hiking to get the ultimate spa foot exfoliation.
Here is another dingy leaving the beach after our surf landing debacle. Shout (right-high on beach) is safely tied to a tree. We nose-dived onto the soft sand, filling the dinghy with lots of sand and water. We were soaked up to the waist with sand everywhere. Time for a nice hike.
Looking northeast out toward Cape Brett, gusty southwest winds sweep Oke Bay. Whisper rests at anchor in the foreground. We enjoyed a couple beautiful days in Oke Bay in preparation for our trip around Cape Brett and south.
From the same hilltop as the previous picture, but with the view off to the southwest -- over the Bay of Islands. This is the view of the islands from about a 100 ft elevation. It improved as we climbed the Cape Brett track.
At the entrance to the Cape Brett track, Robin practices her "Haka", the Maori "intimidation dance". The tikis above are impressed.
The well-groomed trail of the Cape Brett track. A 20KM overnight track can be broken into smaller day hikes.
At about a 400 ft elevation, the views improve dramatically. A steady climb will take us to the 1200 ft peak in about two hours. It only took about an hour to get back down. This was one of our top five days so far in New Zealand -- even after our two traumatic events of the day. It all balances out.
The dense "bush" of tree ferns, palms, and scrub.
The view toward Cape Brett. The next day (the 18th) sitting out a blow in Oke Bay, we hear a reluctant "Mayday" call from the Tiger III tour boat near Cape Brett .
A nice panorama from about 700 ft looking northwest across the Albert channel. The bay on the far-lower right is Oke Bay where Whisper is anchored. Urupukapuka Bay is visible on this side the first big island on the middle-upper left.
Looking west, the top of the hill pay-off. The view from Pukehuia -- at about 1200 ft elevation. The "M" islands are visible in the center-right, with Roberton visible just beyond. The sky was beautiful!
Returning to Whisper after a great hike, Tangaroa III stops by for afternoon tea (again).
This 35 knot gust inside Oke Bay indicates it is probably gusting to 40 knots outside.
Tiger III - On The Rocks
We waited out another strong blow in Oke Bay. We need to point out that the hearty Kiwi's think nothing of going boating in 30 to 40 knots of wind -- as long as it is above 50° F (and we're not sure that matters). With temperatures in the 60's and low 70's, we had several visitors in Oke bay when the winds outside the bay were piping to 35 knots. All of the tourist ferries were working in these blows. A fact which surprised us, it seemed it would be asking to get cold, wet, and seasick. Whatever floats your boat -- so to speak.
Here is Tiger III before she went on the rocks.
Routinely, we listen on channel 16 on the VHF. It is a safety, hailing, and emergency channel. On the afternoon of the 18th, we heard the Tiger III calling for assistance.
It seems they'd lost an engine and had drifted hard aground, just under the Cape Brett lighthouse - less than 4 miles from our anchorage - and they were wondering if anyone might be able to assist them with the offload of 59 passengers (and three crew aboard, too).
The skipper explained, he wasn't sure it was "safe to put them on the rocks", and he wasn't "keen to put them in the water". He was also interested in receiving help to get him off the rocks, but he suspected the damage might be too severe. The first attempt to have another ferry pull them off resulted in a broken tow-line.
The maritime radio dispatcher asked the skipper, "would you like to call a mayday?". VERY reluctantly, the skipper conceded, that this was (probably as good a situation as any to call) a mayday -- so a mayday it became. At that point, forces mobilized to get the passengers off the boat, onto the rocks, then onto another (empty) passenger ferry. This created a whole afternoon of radio drama. Listening to the radio is what cruisers do when you don't have a TV.
We heard they got the people safely transferred and back to Paihia/Russell on another boat, but it wasn't clear until the next day whether they were able to re-float the boat. They were not. We passed Cape Brett on our way out of the Bay of Islands on the morning of December 19th, and there was Tiger III. Reminiscent of the wrecked ferry in Maupiti, it reminded us that this is the second ferry we've seen lost on the rocks in less than six months. How often does this happen? Do these skippers lose their jobs? They must feel terrible.
At first glance, maybe they can just tow it off the rocks.
Closer look. Nope. With the stern hard aground, it would not budge. With surf pounding it higher onto the rocks, it will be a total loss and now a job for a salvage operator. Bummer.
A few days later, we read in the paper that Tiger III had been declared a total loss, and the $2M NZ ferry was a goner. Fullers said this would not impact their business for the year and they were fully insured -- for loss of the boat and the lost income. Now that's an insurance policy!
Heading South
It is time to get moving toward our final boating destination for 2004, Auckland New Zealand. We have been moving steadily south for the last 9 months of 2004, and we are ready to stop moving south. It is getting too cold! At almost 37° south latitude, it is reminding us of Northern California, with the weather reminding us of Oregon or Washington -- in the WINTER!
We will enjoy the coast of the Northland between the Bay of Islands and Auckland for the next few weeks. Then, we'll proceed to our marina in Auckland. In January and February, Robin has planned an awesome five week land trip to New Zealand's South Island.
Systems Update
After a few attempts to equalize the failing AGM batteries while plugged in at the Opua Marina, the batteries were holding a charge better. We also cranked up the alternator and genset voltages. The batteries will make it until Auckland. We have the contact info for a Lifeline AGM rep there who has been know to resurrect nearly-dead AGM's.
The watermaker is working well, but the cold water has dropped the 13-15 gal/hr production back to 11-13 gallons per hour. Duncan will "pickle" (extended storage) the watermaker once in Auckland.
The genset has been working, although only at a reduced 180 amp output. There is a Fischer-Panda genset dealer in Auckland that will help get the unit running correctly. Any serious boat work is being deferred until we return from our South Island trip.