Finding our Feet in Fiji

Port Denarau, Viti Levu, Fiji

By: Kerry

We ended up spending around three weeks in Savusavu (where I last left off). It took us a week or so to recover from the trip up from NZ – and even longer to recover from the last eight gruelling months of boat sh*te! Plus we had (yet) another period of ‘enhanced trades’ that saw strong wind warnings for all Fiji waters. We’d initially planned to head out east, but as this was right into the teeth of the trades, the more attractive option was simply to stay put, hang out in the yacht-friendly town and just chill. A lot of other yachties had the same idea, and at one point there were around 80 boats in the anchorage!


We used the time to get Damian certified (yes, you may have thought he was certifiable) as a SCUBA diver. Not a bad place to learn to dive: warm water, stunning corals and even the chance of seeing schools of hammerhead sharks on his first open water dive. Unfortunately, the hammerheads took the day off, but the diving was still fantastic. (I got my PADI certificate 25 years ago, so didn’t need to do the course, but went along on several dives).

Eventually giving up on heading east, from Savusavu we headed south to Namena – a tiny island with an even tinier, low-key resort, focused totally on diving. The surrounding reef was proclaimed a marine reserve in 1997 and so the fish and coral life is vibrant, abundant and simply spectacular. I did a drift dive (for more advanced divers) and then Damian came along for the next dive which was called The Chimneys: a series of rock pinnacles rising up from the sea floor to about five metres below the surface. During the dive, we swam in spirals around each pinnacle, working our way up and down the sheer sides, which were covered in floaty purple and white soft corals, lace and fan corals and all sorts of hard corals, all in pristine condition and vivid colours.  In and around the corals there were hundreds and hundreds of fish, all competing for the most lurid body paint, while just off in the deeper water we saw massive dog tooth tunas, big hump head wrasse, barracudas and sharks cruising around.

Overall, it was one of the best dives I’ve ever done, but the decompression stop at the end was far and away the most magical dive experience I’ve had. We floated at five metres, suspended over the top of one of the pinnacles. The water was warn and crystal clear. Shafts of sunlight shone down through the water onto the coral garden that covered the top of the ‘Chimney’ (rock pinnacle). A dazzling diversity of corals in all shapes, sizes and eye-popping colours were crammed in together. Thousands of different, tiny technicolour fish surged and darted in and out of the corals and all around us and as the sun caught them, they’d shimmer and sparkle so that it was like being in the midst of an insect swarm or a cloud of Tinkerbell dust!

(Here are some pix I pulled off the interweb to give you an idea of what it was like).

The Namena Marine Reserve is home to more than 400 species of corals and over 1,100 fish species. We also saw octopus, a turtle and whole gardens of garden eels, which stick up out of the sandy sea floor like a patch of pale asparagus stalks. Above sea level, the island is home to around 400 pairs of nesting Red-footed Boobies. The youngsters  are ridiculously curious and when we were snorkelling they’d come down and try to land on your head or in the water beside you. They are bloody big birds, so at first it’s a bit intimidating, but they’re so goofy you just end up laughing at them.

The only problem with Namena is that Damian is now totally spoilt for diving anywhere else…

We continued south, crossing to Makogai Island, which was a leper colony from 1911 until 1969. Around 4000 patients from all over the Pacific were treated on the island, some living there for decades, so the facilities – for patients, carers and administrators – were substantial. There are still a few buildings more or less intact around what is now a mariculture station and a few local houses.

Fijian tradition – and our Cruising Permit – decrees that, whenever we anchor near a village, we must ask permission from the Chief of the village to swim, dive, snorkel fish, etc in their waters, or to visit the village, go for a hike etc. The permission-seeking process is called sevu sevu and protocol involves going ashore as soon as possible after anchoring, armed with a bunch of dried kava root (known as yangona or grog) and presenting it to the Chief. There is then supposed to be a ritual of grinding up the root, mixing up the kava with water and passing coconut shell bowls of it around to be drunk by each individual, with ritual clapping from all involved. The kava is a narcotic that will send your tongue and lips numb and a really strong brew can knock you sideways if you drink enough of it. To me, it looks and tastes like a puddle, but it’s extremely rude to refuse a cup or not to drain it completely.

Once the ceremony is performed, we are officially welcomed into the village and we are then free to do or go wherever we want, and we will be treated like family. Conversely, if you don’t do sevu sevu, in a figurative sense, you don’t exist.

We did our first ‘sevu sevu’ at Makogai. Being a little unsure of the protocol and not wanting to offend, we figured we’d go for safety in numbers and went ashore with our friends Steve and Michelle, from the only other yellow catamaran we know, Citrus Tart. The Chief wasn’t around, so an old guy with one tooth sat us down cross legged on the ground, closed his eyes and said a few words in Fijian, clapped three times, said ‘welcome’ and that was it. Then he took our bunches of grog and tossed them onto the verandah of the nearest building.

So much for tradition.

That didn’t mean the locals weren’t friendly or helpful, though. The old guy then proudly took us on a really interesting tour of the remaining buildings from the leper colony days. The  locals are slowly recovering the old graveyard from the tangle of vines that has engulfed it and are restoring some of the lovely old houses, churches, and other official buildings. We took a walk around the coastline and along the way, there were numerous buildings, now hidden deep in forest, in varying states of decay. The fascinating thing was that none of the buildings on the island were built as ‘temporary’ structures: the houses had lovely carved wooden details; there were the crumbling remains of a huge concrete structure that turned out to be a cinema; and we found the remains of a jail with around eight separate cells. The isolated island was more of a fully-fledged colonial outpost than anywhere else outside Suva!

We did the last hop to the big island of Fiji – Viti Levu – and worked our way around the north coast, inside the reef. This is the official shipping route, since the strong currents and winds funnelling through Bligh Water (the waterway between the two main islands of Fiji) make for treacherous conditions outside the reef. In fact, inside the reef is just the lesser of two evils: there are reefs and bommies strewn everywhere and, like just about everywhere else in Fiji, our charts (even the electronic ones) are so inaccurate as to be largely works of art rather than fact.

The first rule of navigation here is to only travel between 9 am and 4 pm, when the sun is high in the sky and, with someone stationed on the bow of the boat, you can spot the reefs. Thank the goddess for Google Earth! Apart from actually eyeballing the route from the bow, our main navigational aid has become a Russian computer app that allows us to see our position and track on Google Earth satellite images, which clearly – and accurately – show all the reefs and shallows.

Except when there was a cloud in the way on the day the Google Earth photo was taken…!

The inside passage is narrow, with lots of twists and turns and you have to be vigilant all the time. We have heard of so many boats hitting reefs that we are super careful and so far, so good. But that didn’t mean we couldn’t trail a line – and Damian hooked a fantastic Spanish Mackerel (my favourite fish to eat) which we reckon weighed around 15kg. We had sushi, ceviche, BBQ, fish burgers, another BBQ, Kokoda (raw fish in coconut milk), another BBQ… and still we have a freezer full!

~~~ ><(((°>  ><(((°> ><(((°> ~~~

Bula from Fiji!

Savusavu, Vanua Levu, Fiji

By: Kerry
We made it. Arrived in Savusavu, on the south coast of Fiji’s second-largest Island, Vanua Levu, at 2.15pm on Monday, seven days and two hours after leaving Marsden Cove.

Naturally – for us – it wasn’t the boring passage predicted…

Instead, Bruce Buckley, our weather guru, (who is also the official weather man for the Australian Olympic sailing team), has offered us a job in Rio as wind finders. He reckons we can find and hang on to wind better than anyone he knows. We send him twice-daily position reports and he tells us what to expect, weather-wise. Throughout the voyage, we managed to consistently find 40 knots where there was supposed to be 10.

We had an easy enough start, but quickly found ourselves in our very own ‘squash zone’ between a low and a high pressure system. We had 40 knots plus (75kph) for two days straight, with the top gust reaching 58.1 knots.

The wind finally dropped and we were able to put up our new gennaker – basically a really big headsail, a cross between a genoa and a spinnaker, to be used in lighter winds. It didn’t stay up for long….

I was on watch and Damian was asleep when I saw the gennaker furling drum, still attached to the bottom of the sail, go flying past the saloon window.

This is not a good thing: it is supposed to stay firmly tethered to the bow. I yelled for Damian to wake up, ran out on deck and managed to crash tackle the furling drum (with full, 125 square-metre billowing sail attached) as it wrapped itself around the cap shroud for the second time. By then D was on deck and we managed to lower the halyard and wrangle the sail to the deck.

But in the process of this, the aft-led sheet managed to hook itself over the helm station and under the windlass rocker switch, setting off the windlass. We didn’t immediately realise why the anchor chain was paying out, and buggered a winch handle trying to stop it before D dived for the breaker – by which time we had 40 metres of anchor chain dragging below the boat (luckily we’d lashed the anchor, so just chain).

You couldn’t make this s**t up, really, could you???

Turns out the shackle that attached the furling drum to the prod (bowsprit) gave way – it’s a massive shackle and it’s bent sideways and the pin eye is stretched – ie massive load (see photos, attached). We think it was because it was the wrong shackle for the job (supplied by the rigger). We think it slipped and became point-loaded and eventually gave way. The sail had only been up for about 8 hours at that stage. The furling drum itself is bent, and there’s also some cosmetic damage. Hopefully no damage to the sail – we didn’t see any as we were trying to flake/roll all 125 square, heavy, spectra metres of it – still with luff cable in sleeve – and lash it to the rail…

To cap it off, we then noticed that the first reef leech line had chafed completely through the cover of the rope – again in only about 12 hours. This is clearly due to a design fault with the new mast base – we’ve had on-going issues and various modifications so far.

So much for installing the bullet proof rig to restore our confidence in off-shore sailing! As you can imagine, neither of us slept much that night as the wind peaked at 48 knots and we anxiously worried what was giong to break next!

So there we were, 650nm from Savusavu with no number one reef and no gennaker,  hoping to outrun the worst of the monster low that was making it’s way across the SW Pacific.


I did have a chuckle though: As I dived for the furler, D appeared on deck wearing nothing but the t-shirt he’d been sleeping in. I yelled to him to get a towel – meaning a rag towel to wrap around the drum to stop it banging into gel coat and new decks etc while we wrangled the rest of the sail. D disappeared for a  minute and reappeared wearing jeans: he hadn’t been able to find a towel, he said. I explained what I’d meant – – he thought I’d been concerned for the well-being of his family jewels and  he was a bit peeved that I’d been more concerned about deck than dick!

We’d hoped for an incident-free trip, but didn’t really manage even an incident-free day! The wind picked up again and it was hard sailing most of the way – only one day of light winds in the whole trip. We had a few other things go bang or bent – not surprising given the conditions – but nothing major and no injuries.

We did manage to outrun the worst of the massive low pressure system that swept across the Tasman with gale force winds – though we did still get the edge of it on the last couple of days.

Suffice to say, we were VERY glad to get here!

We haven’t done much yet – still feeling pretty weary – but from what we’ve seen so far, Savusavu is a quirky little town. Really just a main street along the waterfront, which is the mouth of a creek. There are probably 25-30 yachts crowded in here, as it’s the preferred point of entry for anyone coming in from Tonga and the west, or from NZ. Our new yellow is standing out like the proverbial – the Fijians love it and all we have spoken to have exclaimed how we’re brightening up the anchorage. Nice to be able to provide a community service!

We haven’t really firmed up plans at this point, but will probably head out to the east first of all. It’s been raining since we got here, so we’re looking forward to some sunshine! At least it’s WARM rain!

Sorry if this sounds a bit monotonous or confusing – my brain is still fried!

For the sailing tragics, I’ve outlined the trip in a bit more detail, below.

Day 1: SE 20-25K, broad reaching with main and genoa in reasonable seas. Noice.
Day 2: SE 25-35 gusting 50 in squalls. Top TWS: 52k. Broad reaching 2 reefs in both main and genoa, running off when necessary. 199.38nm for the first 24 hours
Day 3: Hit 58.1k TWS overnight. 25-35k SSE throughout the day, gusting 45. Mostly averaging 8.5 knots boat speed, but having to slow down now and then when it got too scary. Still broad reaching, trying to head further north. 199nm for second 24 hours. Apparently, all around us the winds are far less – we have found our very own convergence zone. Decks still dry at this stage.
Day 4: Gybed at 0130 as wind went due S and dropped to 13-18k. Put up gennaker, but not for long… After cleaning up the mess, continued with genoa and full main. Wind SW built to 20-25, gusting 35k. Bruce Buckley offered us a job as wind finders with the Australian Olympic team: “…you can pick up stronger winds than anyone else I know!”. 186nm for 24 hours (including an hour or two of going nowhere while we got the gennaker furler and sail under control).
Day 5: Luckily, we put a second reef in before dark last night. Wind built to 30-35, with periods 40-45. By mid-morning, it was down to 10-12k WSW, then dropped altogether. Motor-sailed through the day, trying to get as far north as quickly as possible, and a bit west of rhumb line ahead of NW winds. 170.3nm for 24hrs.
Day 6: Motor-sailed through the night, with wind turning N and 20-25k on the nose by midnight – slowed to about 6 knots. By midday, close reaching on port tack with 25-30k, gusting 40k. Three reefs in main, two in genoa. Seas rising. Winds 30-35 by evening. Decks a bit damp now… 165nm for 24 hrs.
Day 7: Overnight 25-35k, with apparent getting up near 50K at times. Sick of it, so furled genoa and turned on starboard engine – slow, but much better on the nerves at this point! Approx 160nm for 24 hours.
Day 8: Put the pedal to the metal to get in to Savusavu in time to clear Customs. Motored at 7.5k (2500rpm). 172nm for 24 hours. Arrived Savusavu 14:15hrs – 7 days, 2 hours. 1252.31 nautical miles at average 7.32 knots.

~~~ ><(((°>  ><(((°> ><(((°> ~~~

Fiji, Here we Come!

Marsden Cove, New Zealand.

By: Kerry

Man, it’s been a long time coming, but we’re finally leaving tomorrow for Fiji!

Since the last email, when we just launched, we’ve had further ‘issues’ – including having to be hauled out of the water again because the boatyard hadn’t installed a through-hull fitting properly. The name says it all: ’through hull’. Fairly critical that it’s water tight. But its lack of watertightness didn’t become apparent until Damian tried to fit a pipe to it and the whole thing twisted…Better to find it then than later, but it meant motoring back up the river and yet another week lost.

We finally did our second sail trials last Monday and that all went swimmingly.

We’d have liked to do a more substantial shake-down cruise before we left, but the weather has been atrocious. In fact, it’s been so bad, we’ve effectively done our shakedown while tied to the dock!

We got back in from sailing around 4pm on Monday and by later that evening it was blowing 50 knots. It got worse… and worse… and blew a full hurricane all week. Worst storm in living memory, apparently. The wind topped out at 76.5 knots but that wasn’t just a one-off – it was in the 70s fairly frequently and in the 60s fairly consistently for four days straight. We were – literally – pinned to the dock. Made working on the boat – not to mention doing the provisioning – pretty interesting.

I drove into town on Thursday to do all the provisioning (been holding off, waiting to be sure we’re going, so had to do four months’ worth of food shopping in one day, in a full hurricane). On the way into town, there were waves (white caps) on the flooded fields; I saw a man standing in a puddle up to his neck, and the state highway was a slalom of huge pot-holes.

Anyway, we’re finally sorted and we’re heading off tomorrow for Savusavu in Fiji – on the south coast of Vanua Levu, the second-largest island. We haven’t had time to do any research on what to see or where to go, but we’ll figure it out and I reckon we’ll find somewhere nice to hang out for a while!  Can’t be that hard, right?

We’ve had the forecast from our weather guru, Bruce Buckley and he reckons we should have a nice, boring trip – perfect!! We’ve had enough exciting passages to last us for a while!

Weather depending, we should take around 7 days – it’s 1200 nautical miles as the crow flies, but of course, that’s not how sailing works, but we’re hoping to average around 180-200 miles a day. A 747 sounds pretty tempting, doesn’t it?

~~~ ><(((°>  ><(((°> ><(((°> ~~~

We’re Afloat!!!!!

Urquharts Bay, New Zealand

By: Kerry

At last! It’s been six loooooong months, but on Friday we finally had splashdown. Yes, it was Friday (sailors’ lore: never leave port on a Friday) AND it was the 13th, so considering our luck, we were probably pushing it, but it was also a full moon – and the last time June 13 fell on both a Friday and a full moon was 1909 or something, and the next one is 2049, so an auspicious day after all.

Do I sound a tad desperate???

We have had so many hurdles, high jumps and other obstacles to negotiate, we were beginning to think we’d never float again. Anyway, everything went smoothly and we’re now anchored in Urquharts Bay – just near the bach we rented. That seems like a lifetime ago!

Sel Citron is looking like new, with new paintwork all over (topsides, decks and anti foul); new mast, standing and running rigging; new window screens, signage, solar panels (we can now run a small town with our solar bank); new forebeam, trampolines and lifelines… We’ve done a huge amount of work on the outside of the boat, which is matched on the inside: Damian has spent weeks (literally) running new cabling for new navigation instruments, engine controls and lighting. We have new electric toilets (as opposed to the pump variety we had before); new ceiling panels and – best of all – new upholstery in the saloon! I can finally throw out the horrid covers that were on the couch when we bought the boat.

In keeping with the subtle exterior, the new couch is burnt orange. I have just finished sewing all the new scatter cushions, so it’s all looking very groovy.

It’s been an incredibly frustrating time, with many, many long hours (we haven’t had a day off since Damian’s birthday back in March) and too many setbacks to count, but hopefully we’re now nearly there. We are still waiting on sails, which are ready, but the sailmakers won’t release them until they’re paid for (strangely enough) and we are waiting on the $$$ from the insurance company.

We’re now at the argy-bargey stage with the insurers – there’s already been some back and forth and now Mike, our loss adjuster whose recommendation is what is supposed to guide the insurers’ decision (they are UK-based), has gone on holidays for a month so can’t answer any of the insurance company’s questions…

Ice on the deck in May! Time we were gone...

Ice on the deck in May! Time we were gone…

We are hoping that it all gets resolved this week, and we get our sails. The plan from here is to do some sea trials and – assuming everything works – head to Fiji as soon as we can. Like I said in an earlier email, I’m not doing another Kiwi winter – and it’s already mid-June!

So please keep all fingers and toes crossed for us and hopefully we’ll be tropics-bound very soon!

~~~ ><(((°>  ><(((°> ><(((°> ~~~

Happy Birthday to Me

Whangarei, New Zealand

By: Kerry

So…. 2012, 2013 birthdays were ‘special’ in their own way, but in 2014 my special day started in the boatyard to the sound of Toni Minitankers pulling up alongside. In the freezing cold, I held a greasy diesel hose while we filled the tanks. Other highlights of the day included shuttling buckets of bilge water as we emptied our hot water tanks ahead of replacing the pressure valves, and helping to heave our new mainsail on board. A stellar glamour day, really!!

But on the up-side, I did receive a few large parcels: a new mainsail, two new trampolines and our newly upholstered saloon sofa cushions in a slightly-more-startling-than-expected orange. They look great, very bright!!

Not quite diamond baubles*, but all steps towards getting back on the water SOON!

I was reeeeeaaally hoping my birthday would happen afloat, but alas… We were due to go in on Friday (after every other deadline has whooshed on by), but the weather has turned to poo, and we are still un-anti-fouled, so it’s now looking like Monday. (I am trying hard not to say, ‘I told you so’ since I pushed to do the anti-fouling last week in the beautiful weather, but was overruled). We are still holding out a glimmer of hope for Fiji – will have to see what adventures await once we are afloat. We’ve been out of the water for six months, so not really expecting everything to still work…. Fingers crossed!!!!

Damian took me out for a lovely dinner at Top Sail, over at the Onerahi Yacht Club – lovely meal with a glass of delicious NZ spark and a bottle of lovely NZ Syrah. So all good on the alcohol front this year!

* Baubles arrived a few days late, in the shape of a pair of beautiful earrings – aren’t I spoilt!

~~~ ><(((°>  ><(((°> ><(((°> ~~~

The Big, Black Erection.

Whangarei, New Zealand

By: Kerry

It’s been frustrating. It’s been a steep learning curve. It’s been exhausting. We could have bought a whole new boat for the price of it. But we now have a very big, black, shiny new mast.

It’s quite different to our old mast, save that it’s also built of carbon fibre. This time around, we’ve taken steps to ensure it ain’t going to topple over again: we now have spreaders (as opposed to a free-standing spar) and newly-engineered chain plates on the coach house roof (a failed chain plate was what caused the dismasting) and it’s now black instead of white. There are numerous other modifications, and the erection process was a tad nerve-wracking (see pix) but suffice to say it’s now upright and we’re ready to rock and roll.

~~~ ><(((°>  ><(((°> ><(((°> ~~~

Anyone for a Coming Out Party?

Whangarei, New Zealand

By: Kerry

After being dismasted 925 miles from home in the middle of the night, it’s taken five long months to fix the boat.

This week – at last – we came out of the shed and got to see our new livery in all its blinding glory.

Pretty sexy, huh?

Now all we need is a mast and sails…

~~~ ><(((°>  ><(((°> ><(((°> ~~~

View from the Shed – Part II

Urquharts Bay, New Zealand

By: Kerry

Since we’ve been back we have been flat chat on re-building the boat. While we were away, Sel Citron went into the shed at the boatyard in Whangarei and had her topsides repainted. Oddly, people ask me what colour we chose this time around.  YELLOW of course!  It’s grown on us and now we can’t imagine anything else!  So now we’re even brighter than before.

Unfortunately, that was about all that got done while we were away and now it’s a fight and a race to get all the other repairs done, mast built and sails made etc, and get back in the water in time to sail away before winter sets in. (There is NO WAY I am spending another winter in NZ – just for the record!). We are really up against it, with a huge workload and it just seems to be one step forward, one back.

One of the biggest jobs at the moment involves repairing the decks, which were badly dinged and damaged in the dismasting. The original plan was to cut out the damaged parts and replace them with moulds taken from other sections of gel coat on the boat. To cut a long and very painful story short, that ended up not being possible. We looked at every alternative, but we’ve now resigned ourselves to having to sand all the (acres) of decks back to smooth and then paint them with a non-skid paint. It’s a huge job – weeks worth of work.

To give you an idea of the ‘one step forward, two back’ kind of progress we’ve been making, here’s a précis of a typical couple of days.…

(If it’s less painful to stick pins in your eyes than read this, skip to the *** below).

In preparing for the deck repairs, Damian spent the best part of a week trying to take off all the deck fittings – blocks, tracks, staunchions, pad-eyes, cleats, etc etc – you never realise how many they are until you start taking them off. And of course, none of them want to come off and when they do, they reveal further ‘issues’ underneath…Let’s just not even go there!

We also have to replace the solar panels, since – of course – they don’t make the old ones any more. We actually only ‘need’ to replace two of the eight, but you can’t mix different types, so we have to replace all of them. And the new ones are different sizes, which means the custom-built aluminium brackets that hold them in place on the bimini roof and cabin top have to be re-built, which means the holes in the deck where they were bolted, and the bigger holes where the old electric cables exited, have to be filled, fibreglassed, painted….

Damian spent about a day trying to get the ‘ceiling’ panels off the underside of the bimini in order to access the electrical cables for the solar panels, but couldn’t budge them (someone’s used the wrong glue to stick them on with). So the alternative was to drill yet more holes in the top of the bimini (near the ones that have to be filled from the old solar panels). He started on that, but his favourite electric drill caught fire….Eventually, he cut the holes, only to find he still couldn’t access all the cables, so he had to spend another 2 days getting the ceiling panels off, after all…

Meanwhile, the solar panels have to come in from Australia (of course!) and I spent the best part of a day trying to organise to have them airfreighted – not difficult, you’d think… but you’d be wrong!

And that’s just the tip of the iceberg…

***

Here she is, Glad-wrapped, mast-less, missing trampoline and in the shed…

On the up-side, we finally had our meeting with the mast builder last week. The designer FINALLY delivered the technical drawings – only 9 weeks late – so Bart the builder can now finally get started on building the mast (it was supposed to be done by now). He reckons he’ll go flat out from here, but I reckon it will be 4-6 weeks away, which is starting to cut it fine to get in the water and get away.

We can now also finally push ‘go’ on ordering sails – and hope that there aren’t any delays there!

It took two attempts to fit the new forebeam (the old one was bent and twisted in the dismasting). Here’s the second attempt, with Damian (who isn’t a fan of heights) on the forklift. OH&S would probably have had something to say about the methodology, but it got done at least!

So it’s been a bit grim, but at least we’re not living on the boat while it’s in a snow storm of sanding dust!  I found a little ‘bach’ – a kiwi beach house – in Urquharts Bay, across the river from Whangarei, It’s very simple – as a bach should be – and very cute and right on the water: as I sit here looking through the French doors, I can’t see the water’s edge as it’s so close it’s below the edge of the verandah. Check it out:

http://www.bookabach.co.nz/baches-and-holiday-homes/view/24498

And if there was any doubt as to why we wouldn’t want to be living on the boat, here’s one more reason: this is the state of the saloon…

View from the Shed-5493

It was Damian’s birthday the Sunday before last and we had a few friends over for dinner – beef wellington and orange poppyseed birthday cake with candied orange peel, a la Kerry – and had a fun night. Luckily, Cyclone Lusi had blown through the day before, rather than on his birthday – winds of 67 knots at Marsden Cove (our usual hang) and all the catamarans in the boat yard had to be tied down to enormous concrete blocks, one at each corner. But not us, since we’re ‘indoors’ .

So there’s an upside to being in the shed!

~~~ ><(((°>  ><(((°> ><(((°> ~~~

View From the Shed – Part 1

Urquharts Bay, Whangarei, New Zealand

By: Kerry

Where did the first quarter of the year go? No moss growing on these rolling stones – though it’s quite surprising we weren’t mouldy by the time we left England!

We spent just over seven weeks in Ol’ Blighty and I think it rained on all but two days of it. West Sussex, where we spent most of our time, was flooded from a week before Christmas until we left at the end of January: it actually got worse after we left, which is hard to believe! Wherever we went we forded flooded roads and the surrounding fields were vast lakes. We did get to spend lots of time with Damian’s family, none of whom I’ve met before other than on Skype – they were all very pleased to see the prodigal son and made me feel very welcome as well.

While the weather cramped our style somewhat, we did manage to get out and about, including very special trips to see friends in Derbyshire, Devon and Bath, various exploratories around the nearby countryside, and to see a few of the sights, including having lunch at the very swank Amberley Castle, twice; climbing the Shard in London; and seeing the latest Cirque du Soleil at the Royal Albert Hall.

I haven’t been to London for about 25 years, which I can hardly believe. But even though it was the middle of winter and bitterly cold, it was fantastic wandering around – the very eclectic mix of old and new architecture is fascinating and incredibly impressive. We went up the Shard – the highest building in Western Europe – which seems impossibly high, with uninterrupted views right across London – then discovered that it’s only the same height as Sydney Tower!

We did get a few moments of sunshine here and there, and here are a few happy snaps to prove it…

But this is what it was like more often…

Around about mid January, after a month of being restricted to indoors, shifting from couch to couch – not to mention suffering vitamin D deficiencies – we decided to do that most English of things: take a ‘Mini Break’. I guess we haven’t quite embraced the concept so heartily in the antipodes, since you can’t get anywhere really exotic and back and actually have a holiday in three days (not even Lord Howe!), but that is the beauty of living in Europe with cheap Easyjet flights to anywhere!

Damian gave me about 48 hours notice but didn’t tell me where we were going. Turned out to be a three-day trip to Marrakech, and after a three-hour flight we were in warm sunshine, mad markets and clashing colours – a total contrast to rainy rural England! Spent our time getting lost in the souk, marvelling at the architecture, eating tagines and couscous and getting lost in the souk again. It was great – the only bummer is that, living on a boat, I couldn’t buy a house full of cool stuff!

We flew back to Sydney for a whirlwind visit that – sadly – didn’t include much socialising. It was more about all the boring tasks you have to do annually, but squeezed into the smallest possible amount of time: tax, accountants, dentists, doctors… Damian got very ill in England and then worse in Oz, with a severe respiratory bug that saw us running around getting chest x-rays, CT scans, blood tests etc. Eventually they decided they didn’t know what it was, but that it wasn’t life-threatening, and he should just man up and get over it. Which he did by the time we got back to NZ.

PS. Click on the Images page to see our full England and Morocco photo albums.

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