So when I received an invitation to help deliver a 45' Bakewell-White from Sydney to New Zealand (~1000nm or 2000km) in October 2019, I jumped at the opportunity.
On October 22, I walked down to d'Albora Marinas in Rushcutter's Bay to meet the owner-skipper, Blair and his boat.
At the coffee shop taking our last cappuccino for a week or more, I met Andrew, the third member of the crew, recruited like me through www.findacrew.net.
 |
| Parting view of Sydney |
By noon, we were heading out the Sydney Heads, sails set for a port tack, course heading east. And we held that course and tack for about six days!
By the end of the first day, the mainland had pulled out of view although the glow of the city was visible in the evening. By the next day, we were surrounded by 10nm (~20km) of ocean in every direction - and so it remained until we sighted the land of New Zealand six days later.
The three of us, strangers on October 22 at departure, seemed to get along well.
The skipper-owner, Blair, was a lively character, a capable commander (he trained as a navigator and is currently an airline captain) with a solid dose of down-to-earth, hands-on practicality.
Andrew, the other crew member, had a great deal of experience in sailing dinghies and keel-boats around Sydney Harbour. He was aboard to get himself some open-ocean experience, in particular, a voyage at least 250nm offshore providing him with useful qualifications and credentials as the member of a crew on a boat competing in the Sydney to Hobart race in December 2019.
We saw a couple of whales as we left the Australian east coast as they returned to Antarctica for the summer.
More disturbingly, I saw what appeared to be a very large shark that had been half-eaten. I wanted to know what ate it - and even more importantly, where it was now. Very scary!
When I finally got back to land about a week or so later, I discovered that what I had seen was very likely a submerged sunfish. Sunfish are very large bony fish that are often misidentified as a large, half-eaten sharks!
During the six days, we saw a couple of pods of dolphins out in the middle of no-where that came to meet us and play, a number of sunfish (with their rather disturbing fins making them look a lot like a shark), and lots of seabirds (albatrosses - or something like that, shearwaters, and others) miles from land. The birds were fascinating and were soaring on the lift from waves which fascinated me as an amateur pilot and a starting point for an interesting discussion with Blair, an airline pilot.
We also sailed close to a couple of pods of whales as we approached New Zealand on the other side of the "ditch."
The one animal that was barely sighted during the six days crossing were humans. Even the indicators of humanity were just clues. A little light pollution from the city of Sydney on the first evening, a few contrails from planes for a day out from Sydney and a day before arriving NZ, but otherwise, no other humans than those on board.
The sailing was wonderful. Steady breezes from the port beam for the whole distance. We managed to fly a "code zero" (cross between a genoa and asymmetrical spinnaker designed for close-hauled sailing) and a spinnaker for segments of the voyage.
The humans on board got along well, especially seeing as it was two Aussies with a Kiwi owner-skipper. Lots of laughs, lots of typical cross-Tasman taunting although we were smart enough to keep quiet when Blair sat up to listen to reports sent by his daughter via satellite-phone about the New Zealand vs England Rugby World Cup game. New Zealand was convincingly dismissed, and we all switched to talking about car and sail racing.
Blair, the Kiwi, held the Aussies at bay quite powerfully. In addition to the unspoken threat of throwing them into the ocean to swim home, he would end any heated discussion with "Argo." On the first occasion, I asked "Argo?" And he responded with a laugh and delight at my having walked into the trap: "Argo f@ck yourself."
On another day, he ended some Kiwi-Aussie banter by going down below to make us all a cup of tea. Suddenly, his head popped out above the companionway, and he asked: "You know what I like about you?"
I shook my head.
With glee, he replied "Nothing," and turned and went below to finish making us all a cup of tea.
The nights were pretty easy with each of the three of us taking turns keeping a three-hour watch. My preference was for 3-6am so I could see the sunrise each day - and apparently that suited the skipper and other crew-member, so I got that watch most nights.
The toughest sailing was perhaps the last two nights which began as we reached the northern tip of New Zealand and we had to change tack for the first time in six days. For the next 36 hours, we were mostly head-to wind although mostly pretty gentle except for early morning on the very last night.
The view of the coast of New Zealand during the day was glorious - when we could see it through the clouds and rain!
As we sailed down the east coast of New Zealand, we were treated to some more animal sightings - seals waving hello (or pretending to be a piece of kelp seaweed - see photo below), and strange little birds that danced on the water for little apparent reason. Like most strange animal behaviours with no apparent reason, it was probably a mating display.
On the morning of the eighth day since our departure, I awoke to the boat pounding through short chop as we were head to wind and fully powered up trying to get to the entrance into Whangarei. Good thing we saved the roughest part of the trip to the last couple of hours.
We docked at customs, cleaned up, enjoyed our first cappuccino in eight days, and headed down to Auckland, each of us returning to the life we had led before the crossing.
Andrew, the other crew member, had a great deal of experience in sailing dinghies and keel-boats around Sydney Harbour. He was aboard to get himself some open-ocean experience, in particular, a voyage at least 250nm offshore providing him with useful qualifications and credentials as the member of a crew on a boat competing in the Sydney to Hobart race in December 2019.
 |
| Shark or sunfish ? |
More disturbingly, I saw what appeared to be a very large shark that had been half-eaten. I wanted to know what ate it - and even more importantly, where it was now. Very scary!
When I finally got back to land about a week or so later, I discovered that what I had seen was very likely a submerged sunfish. Sunfish are very large bony fish that are often misidentified as a large, half-eaten sharks!
During the six days, we saw a couple of pods of dolphins out in the middle of no-where that came to meet us and play, a number of sunfish (with their rather disturbing fins making them look a lot like a shark), and lots of seabirds (albatrosses - or something like that, shearwaters, and others) miles from land. The birds were fascinating and were soaring on the lift from waves which fascinated me as an amateur pilot and a starting point for an interesting discussion with Blair, an airline pilot.
We also sailed close to a couple of pods of whales as we approached New Zealand on the other side of the "ditch."The one animal that was barely sighted during the six days crossing were humans. Even the indicators of humanity were just clues. A little light pollution from the city of Sydney on the first evening, a few contrails from planes for a day out from Sydney and a day before arriving NZ, but otherwise, no other humans than those on board.
The sailing was wonderful. Steady breezes from the port beam for the whole distance. We managed to fly a "code zero" (cross between a genoa and asymmetrical spinnaker designed for close-hauled sailing) and a spinnaker for segments of the voyage.
The humans on board got along well, especially seeing as it was two Aussies with a Kiwi owner-skipper. Lots of laughs, lots of typical cross-Tasman taunting although we were smart enough to keep quiet when Blair sat up to listen to reports sent by his daughter via satellite-phone about the New Zealand vs England Rugby World Cup game. New Zealand was convincingly dismissed, and we all switched to talking about car and sail racing.
Blair, the Kiwi, held the Aussies at bay quite powerfully. In addition to the unspoken threat of throwing them into the ocean to swim home, he would end any heated discussion with "Argo." On the first occasion, I asked "Argo?" And he responded with a laugh and delight at my having walked into the trap: "Argo f@ck yourself."
On another day, he ended some Kiwi-Aussie banter by going down below to make us all a cup of tea. Suddenly, his head popped out above the companionway, and he asked: "You know what I like about you?"
I shook my head.
With glee, he replied "Nothing," and turned and went below to finish making us all a cup of tea.
The nights were pretty easy with each of the three of us taking turns keeping a three-hour watch. My preference was for 3-6am so I could see the sunrise each day - and apparently that suited the skipper and other crew-member, so I got that watch most nights.
 |
| View of the east coast of New Zealand |
The toughest sailing was perhaps the last two nights which began as we reached the northern tip of New Zealand and we had to change tack for the first time in six days. For the next 36 hours, we were mostly head-to wind although mostly pretty gentle except for early morning on the very last night.
The view of the coast of New Zealand during the day was glorious - when we could see it through the clouds and rain!
As we sailed down the east coast of New Zealand, we were treated to some more animal sightings - seals waving hello (or pretending to be a piece of kelp seaweed - see photo below), and strange little birds that danced on the water for little apparent reason. Like most strange animal behaviours with no apparent reason, it was probably a mating display.
On the morning of the eighth day since our departure, I awoke to the boat pounding through short chop as we were head to wind and fully powered up trying to get to the entrance into Whangarei. Good thing we saved the roughest part of the trip to the last couple of hours.
No comments:
Post a Comment