The Next Adventure Begins

In 1976 I crewed in the Transpacific Yacht Club's race from LA to Tahiti aboard Irv Loube's newly constructed 49' sloop Bravura.  Also aboard Bravura for that race were Rob Vaughan, who oversaw the boat's construction and was the professional skipper, and Watch Captain Simon Willis from New Zealand.

Fast forward 41 years.  Rob will be sailing his 66' custom cruising sloop, Van Diemen III, from his current homeport of Newport Beach, California, to his childhood hometown of Hobart, Tasmania.  Simon and I will be sailing with him.  We are scheduled to depart Newport Beach in early April with stops along the way in the Marquesas, Tuamotus, Societies, Cook Islands, Tonga, Fiji, and New Caledonia before reaching Australia and heading south along the coast to Tasmania.  We should arrive at our final destination, Hobart, just before Christmas.

Lori has already cruised extensively with me in Tahiti, Tonga, and Fiji so she has decided not to join Van Diemen until we reach the coast of Australia.  I will likely fly home once or twice along the way for a week or two from convenient ports (Papeete and/or Fiji) to take care of business at home, hug my beautiful and tolerant wife, and soak in the hot tub.

I'm hoping to blog about the trip on this site like I have for my past few voyages.  I'm not yet sure how this will work out as the communications hardware aboard Van Diemen differs from that aboard Moku pe'a.  If I can't blog regularly then I will post updates when I can.

4 November - Home

My journey home from Whangarei was a continuation of a great trip.  The bus to Auckland was luxurious and even had free wifi so I could keep Lori updated on my progress.  The infrequent bus schedule necessitated my arriving at the airport five hours before my flight departed.  I checked in, got rid of my luggage, and headed up to the departure lounge to discover a pub showing the World Series on TV.  Wow, perfect timing!  I got to enjoy the best extra innings World Series game 7 ever as well as a couple of pints of craft brew and some nachos.  When the entertainment was done it was time to head over to my departure gate.

Overnight flights are not my favorite.  I had to take the red eye at least once a month during the last ten years of my working career, and I got pretty tired of them.  For my work trips I did discover that some powerful prescription pain medication made the seats a whole lot more comfortable and let me sleep.  I was rummaging through my backpack at the airport in Auckland and was pleasantly surprised to find a little baggie of those pain meds that had apparently hidden there for years.  My flight home was wonderful.

I have been giving the reasons why this cruise was such a success a lot of thought.  It can primarily be attributed to Clay’s leadership.

I have written many times about how critical team selection is on a small boat passage.  Clay hit a home run here.  The team was completely compatible, and their individual skills complemented each other.  A couple of times topics of discussion among the crew ventured into potentially contentious areas and Clay, always on duty to keep us happy, deftly steered the conversation back into safer waters.

Clay’s meticulous approach to preparation and his conservative approach to weather, sailing, and safety optimized the likelihood of a drama free cruise, and that’s what we had.

Of course, a well fed crew is a happy crew.  Gail made sure we were happy with many precooked dinners during the passage, a fully stocked galley, and gourmet meals when she was aboard.

Clay and Gail, when is the next cruise?

2 November - Journey's End

12PM position 35-43S 174-19E. In a slip at Riverside Drive Marina, Whangarei.

The headland on the coast that guards the entrance to the Whangarei River looks a lot like Makapuu. We passed it, made a ninety degree turn to starboard, and started a three hour journey inland through a spectacular natural harbor and river system. First came the bay, protected by the headland, with little fishing boats we had to dodge to get past. In the commercial harbor we passed an outbound 600 foot lumber carrier loaded to the gills with logs. Along the shore were an oil terminal and the lumber depot that had acres of 30 foot high piles of logs waiting to be shipped out. Then came the river delta with a maze of channels and marked shoals. Once past the delta, the river got narrower and started twisting and turning as we worked our way inland. The properties along the banks were mostly residential, but we passed shipyards, marinas, and a yacht club. We even had to pass under the only bascule bridge in the Southern Hemisphere after calling the operator on the radio to open it for us. Finally when it seemed as if the river couldn't get any narrower, we were there at the Riverside Drive Marina.

The tide had been ebbing for our entire journey up river. It slowed us down by a knot, but the real exciting part was getting the boat into the Marina slip which lay across the current on the down-current side of a finger. There was major potential for disaster, but Clay pulled it off like a pro, and the next thing we knew Jambalaya's 7,000 mile voyage from Hawaii was over.

I didn't have time to blog yesterday because we immediately got to work getting the boat ready to haul out. All the sails came off, refrigerator got emptied and defrosted, linens were removed for washing, personal gear removed, yada, yada, yada.

We had an excellent celebration dinner at an Irish pub in town last night with too many toasts and too many shots of scotch and tequila (ouch!), but we all survived.

John and Tom are catching the bus to Auckland this morning to meet their wives. I'm staying a day longer to help Clay remove the headstay and forestay so the travel lift can pick up the boat. I catch the bus south tomorrow, and will be hugging my lovely, patient, tolerant and understanding wife, Lori, at the airport in Honolulu at 6AM the next morning.

Clay and Gail will stick around a few more days to watch the boat come out of the water and make sure it is secure on the jackstands. Then they will head home too.

31 October again - Tutukaka

12PM position 35-37S 174-33E, slip E-13, Tutukaka Marina

I've lost track of what day it is here so you get two 31 Oct posts and yes, I sent the last two out of order. Sorry about that.

Simon's adventures in Patagonia sounded like a lot of fun, but there is no way I would ever do anything like that. I don't do cold. The guys from Charleston who I used to work with in the Navy's dry dock safety program will back me up on that. They used to call me "The Hawhiner" because I complained about being cold on some of our winter work trips.

I'm not exactly enjoying the climate here in New Zealand. It's a beautiful country, but it's cold.

I often find myself thinking about my hot tub in Hawaii, and how nice it would feel to be soaking in its 100 degree water. It's not like I can just warm up here with a hot shower. Water is scarce on a cruising boat. Most of our onboard showers are taken on the swim step at the back of the boat because the boat's shower compartment in the head is being used for gear stowage. The swim step showers have got to be quick to conserve water and out in the open you get cold in the wind as soon as you finish showering.

I'm focused on this topic because we pulled in to Tutukaka Harbor yesterday afternoon, and after securing the boat and having a couple of beers in the waterfront bar, we all took hot showers in the Marina restrooms.

One token gave us 5 minutes of scalding hot water, and it was 5 minutes of heaven. Life was wonderful again.

We decided to stay put in this quiet natural harbor for a second night. The wind is continuing to blow out of the south today, but it is supposed to be northerly tomorrow which will give us a down wind run for the final 37 mile leg into Whangarei.

We are spending the day getting the boat ready to haul out in Whangarei including washing, drying, and folding the dinghy, flushing the outboard engine, and doing laundry.

30 October - Marine Mammals

The two whales we saw yesterday weren't the only mammals seen swimming here. Clay has gone swimming at least once everywhere we've anchored. The water temperature here is 62 degree F, cold enough to freeze the balls off of a brass monkey (google it), but not cold enough to keep Clay out of the water. It's certainly cold enough to keep the rest of us out. He climbs out after his swim saying something like "toasty!" Yea, right. He keeps trying to talk the rest of us into joining him, but we're not biting.

We departed Whangaroa at 9AM yesterday and had a perfect beam reach in offshore winds back down to The Bay of Islands, anchoring in Oke Bay at 3PM. Simon says this is his favorite spot in this area, and I can see why. It's the most remote anchorage in The Bay of Islands, is well protected, and has a huge sand beach at the head of the bay.

31 October - Ten Pounds of Rice in a Five Pound Bag

12PM position 35-27S 174-33E

That's what it feels like sometimes with five of us on this little boat. We function pretty well both in awake mode and asleep mode, but the transitions between the two can be difficult.

Clay and Gail share the master stateroom forward. Tom and I sleep on the setees on either side of the main salon, and John sleeps in "Aftcabinstan", the port aft cabin under the cockpit.

During daylight hours we all use the settees for reading, eating, and socializing so Tom's and my sheets, blankets, and pillows have to be stowed elsewhere. We're keeping them on Clay and Gail's bunk.

There's not enough locker space for all of us, so we are living partially out of our sea bags. The sea bags are all stowed in the half of the double Aftcabinstan bunk that John doesn't use. The lockers we do use for personal gear are in the forward and aft cabins. Clay, Gail and I have lockers forward and John and Tom have lockers aft.

The transition is easier in the morning because Tom and I are usually up first. The first one awake starts the coffee. We fold up our bedding and it stays piled on the settees until both Clay and Gail are up and have set up their cabin for daylight mode. If I want any of the stuff in my drawers I'll wait until the Captain and Admiral are both finished foreword.

The night time transition is tougher. We all have to decide on a common bed time. Everyone vacates the settees, Tom and my bedding is retrieved from the forward stateroom and set up, everybody stows and retrieves gear for the night from the forward and aft cabin, and everyone goes to bed. The last sound before the snoring begins is Tom saying "Good night, John Boy" (Waltons), and somebody grunts.

At the moment we are bashing to weather in 25 knots of wind and lumpy seas trying to get to Tutukaka Harbor. We've got the small jib up and a double reef in the main and 15 miles to go. We should get there mid afternoon.

29 October - Exploring Whangaroa

We decided to sleep in yesterday morning, and nobody stirred from under their deep covers until 730AM. After a late breakfast we moseyed down to the south end of the harbor, about 3 miles from where we spent the previous night, nosing into every bay along the way to look for promising anchorages. We dropped the hook off the little town of Whangaroa and dinghied ashore to explore.

We found the town drunk all alone pursuing his passion in the local pub. He told us that the trail to the top of St. Paul's Peak, which overlooks the town, was down the street opposite the wharf. It was a somewhat strenuous hike for the out of shape crews of Jambalaya and Puanani to reach the 700 foot summit, but the views at the top and beer in the pub afterwards made it all worthwhile.

We decided that the western arm offered the best shelter with its nearly 1000 foot surrounding cliffs, so we returned there taking a slight detour to check out the "water buoy" in one of the eastern arms of the harbor. Some folks in the pub told us about a buoy that had fresh water piped to it directly from a spring on shore. It was placed there so cruisers could refill their water tanks at no charge. We found the buoy but didn't try it out. What a civilized country!

The mother of all headaches woke me up early this morning. My vitamin I was in the drawer under Clay and Gail's bunk and I didn't want to disturb them, so I went for a paddle in the dinghy to try to work through it. Sometimes exercise helps. The water was mirror smooth and there wasn't a breath of air. I paddled around the cove closest to the boat for a half hour and was on my way back when I heard the splashing and breathing of some large marine mammals. A pair of small whales, perhaps pilot whale size, swam right by Jambalaya on a tour of the bay. The noise was loud enough to wake John, who came on deck to watch them. Everybody else in the anchorage slept right through it.

We're headed back towards the Bay of Islands now, and it is a beautiful day. There is a light offshore breeze blowing. It's not strong enough to sail yet so we are motor sailing at present, but the wind is forecast to fill in. I can hear the boys on deck unrolling the Genoa now. Looks like we're going sailing!