Gresham Family Exodus

Originally posted on December 5, 2014, by cruisingrunner

We’ve been here over a week, yet I’ve seen very little. I was thinking that when people vacation, sometimes they only have a week, maybe two, and I’ve already used up a good amount of that time. I guess because we are planning to be here for so long (5-6 months) and also the fact that we aren’t really vacationing so much as moving our life here for a little while, we are a little slow to get out there and see the country. We’ve barely left the marina area, and when we have it’s been to take care of mundane everyday life things like grocery shopping, opening a bank account, and buying a car. We haven’t even gone wine tasting, for crying out loud.

I’m still marveling over being here and still overwhelmed with how life is going to be different for awhile. We aren’t really cruising anymore. We’re just living on a boat. Did I mention we bought a car?

Instead of soaking in the things that make New Zealand special and a tourist destination, I’m getting excited about a coin operated reasonably priced self-serve laundromat where all the machines work and a grocery store that has easily identified meat and a bulk food section rivaling Whole Foods. And yesterday we went into the town of Kerikeri and shopped at a store that could have been “The Container Store” and another the could have been “Home Depot.” I had to resist the urge to stock up on specialty kitchen gadgets like a clip you put on your pot to hold the spoon, so you don’t set it on the counter and get it messy. I guess because I haven’t seen stuff like that for so long, my first reaction was, “I…must…buy!”

Eventually, we will see more of New Zealand, both on the water and on land. But for now, if you ask me how New Zealand is, I’ll likely reply something about how good the internet is and that the apples are to die for.

-D.

Originally posted on December 1, 2014, by cruisingrunner

The running options here in Opua, New Zealand are endless. There are roads and trails going in all directions, and we are currently docked at a marina, so the only effort I need to make to go for a run is to step off the boat. No paddle boarding to a beach with my shoes draped around my neck. No dropping the dinghy and getting one of the boys to give me a ride ashore. Just a large step, almost a leap at times, from Exodus to the dock.

My first adventure took me north from one end of the marina to the other, and I kept going until I noticed a small trail that continued along the water. I had no idea where it would lead or if it would turn into an uphill hike, but I went for it anyway. It turned out to be a pleasant, mostly flat, run along the water. It was a very narrow trail, though, so I had to slow down or move off to the side to get around other walkers, but they were few and far between. Mostly it was a quiet run, and even though I had taken my iPhone with me to listen to the gazillion new podcasts I’ve downloaded since we have internet, I mostly kept it off. I enjoyed the quiet and the lapping of the water against the shore. When it was about time for me to turn around, I came across a smaller trail leading up with a sign that said, “lookout 5 min.” Five minutes was pretty accurate, but it was pretty steep, so I didn’t exactly run to the top. It wasn’t the best view, since there was a lot of obstruction by trees, but had I not gone up I would have wondered about it all the way back home.

For my second adventure I headed south from the marina. There is a bike trail on top of an old railway line, and it is the perfect track on which to do a long run. I was creaky and tired, and I could tell from the beginning that the run would be a slog. We were up late the night before playing card games with friends, and I was a little stiff and sore from the first run after taking so much time off. But it was a beautiful route, and the remnants of the railway are pretty obvious. You can see the rails under the dirt and gravel in many places, and there are many old and rundown wooden signs left in place, intentional for effect, I’m sure. The most obvious, and the most charming, was a short, narrow stone tunnel through one of the hillsides. As I approached, I thought, “how cool, I get to run through a train tunnel,” and as I got closer, I was relieved to see that it was short enough that the light from the other end seemed to pick up before this side gave out, so I would never be totally in the dark. However, as I got closer still, I began to feel scared. Seriously, scared. Irrationally, scared. I talked myself into going through, I mean, there was no way I was going to end my run here and turn around. Without too much thought my pace quickened. Then, when I got about a third of the way through, I saw a dark cutout on the wall on one side of the tunnel, and that floored me. I sprinted the rest of the way with the fury of someone running for their life. When I got to the other side, I laughed at myself for being so silly, but I also learned something. I learned that I wasn’t as creaky and tired and sore as I thought I was. That was just a mental roadblock I was allowing myself to have, but fear in a dark tunnel kicked that roadblock over. The rest of the run was a good one, including the second sprint through the tunnel on the way back.

We are still getting the lay of the land here. There’s not much in Opua besides a marina and boat related vendors and contractors, but there are some nice towns nearby, and we are intending to buy a car, so we’ll be able to do much more exploring soon.

-D.

Originally posted on November 28, 2014, by cruisingrunner

I’ve been silent for a while, because, well, I haven’t been running in a while. Tonga is over a thousand miles behind us, and we are quietly at anchor in beautiful, warm, and sunny Opua, New Zealand. Scratch that. It’s definitely beautiful, but at least today it’s certainly not warm and sunny. It’s gray and cold and drizzly, and you might think I’m missing the tropics right about now, but surprisingly I’m not. During the (mostly benign) ocean passage, I watched the air temperature slowly tick down, and instead of mourning the loss of the warm weather we’ve grown so accustomed to, I found myself excited for the change. And as we neared land, I didn’t have my usual tenseness over arriving somewhere new. There was a sense of calm, and this may sound a bit corny, but it felt like we were going home. This feeling must have been coming from very subtle observations, almost subconscious on my part. I’m thinking at that point it must have been mostly weather related and the fact I was wearing clothes that I would wear at home. Comfortable clothes, like my favorite Lucy sweatpants and my Uggs. As we got even closer and entered the Bay of Islands, the smell of the land was even familiar. Brenden said it smelled like Papa and Nana’s house. Tim said it smelled like the shrubs at Twenty-Nine Palms. We arrived in Opua and tied up to the Q-dock just before midnight, and when I woke in the morning and surveyed our surroundings while sitting in the cockpit drinking my coffee, I felt like we could be sitting somewhere in Central or Northern California (it is too green to be compared to Southern California) and the nippiness of the morning air reminded me of mornings drinking my coffee in the cockpit while we were still in Marina del Rey.

Then, the clearing in process began, and wow, were we quickly reminded that we were back in a first world country. I LOVED Tonga, and I loved the people of Tonga, so I don’t make this statement with any sort of negative judgment or a sense of superiority, I simply say it matter of factly. Because the difference was stark. The process was efficient, thorough, and professional. They arrived promptly. No one asked us for anything. They brought us forms to fill out and then came back (they didn’t sit there and stare at us while we filled them out). They processed nine boats in about 2 hours. I was stunned.

There are other obvious similarities between New Zealand and home, like the language of course, that contribute to my comfort level. But I don’t mean to imply that everything is the same, that would be unfair to New Zealand. It’s a unique place, with it’s own history and culture. They call French Fries “Chips” after all.

I’ve been looking forward to running here, but for now I still wait. When the rain stops the wind is supposed to pick up and blow hard for a few days. But we’ll be here the entire cyclone season, so I’ll have plenty of opportunities to run comfortably in my leggings and long sleeved technical shirts. And I’m sure eventually I’ll be sick of home and be ready for more adventures in less familiar places again.

-D.

The following is the series of daily emails I sent to family and friends during our passage to New Zealand, and more than anything I could think to write about now, this pretty much captures the experience.

Day 1
617 miles to go to Opua, New Zealand
77.9 deg F in the salon at ~8am

Well, this is the passage that has been looming out there for us all season, and so far, so good. We left Minerva Reef yesterday afternoon around 3pm, just after the wind started picking up. It’s been fast and bumpy ever since, with the worst conditions coming about 4-9 am this morning with winds 20-25 kts, close hauled. It’s supposed to taper off over the next couple days and then we will likely have to motor for a while, so although this is uncomfortable, we are enjoying watching the miles tick off.

So far, it’s fish 1, Exodus 0. Something big hit the reel yesterday and Tim fought it for a while. Normally slowing the boat down to 2-3 kts is sufficient, but this time we pretty much had to stop it by hoving to, but then the fish got away without us even getting to see what it was. But at least we didn’t lose the lure.

We crossed 180 deg longitude early this morning, and although it’s not as big a milestone as crossing the equator, we are still celebrating with a pizza dinner. I had the sauce and dough already prepared and in the freezer, which made pulling it all together in these conditions much easier.

We are traveling within VHF range of 3 single handers, so we feel far from alone out here, with all the radio chatter among them.

Don’t forget you can track us on the inReach, if you feel like it. The link is on our facebook page.

Day 2
476 nmi to go to Opua, New Zealand
77.0 deg F in the salon at ~8am

It’s been a calmer day today, with winds primarily in the 10-15 kt range, and right now we are cruising along with 11 kts just forward of the beam. We can move about the boat much more easily, and we even did some schoolwork today. The SSB net we’ve been listening to and using as our primary source for validating (or not) our own weather analysis ended their season yesterday. Yeah, didn’t see that one coming. I guess we are pretty late travelers to New Zealand, indeed. So, I spent some time today figuring out how to receive weather faxes from New Zealand Met, so that in addition to having the grib files, we have some meteorologist’s analysis of where the fronts are, which is important for our arrival to New Zealand. It was actually much easier than when I messed around with the US weather faxes from Pt. Reyes and Honolulu before we left Mexico, so that was a relief. I think I mentioned in a previous email that the boys are doing night watches now, and that is working out really well so far. So, even though I’m my usual lazy lump on passage, I’m not nearly as exhausted as I usually am.

Day 3
357 nmi to go to Opua, New Zealand
69.0 deg F in the salon at ~8am

Brrrr…. it’s getting chilly. I wore Uggs last night on watch, and I’ve been wearing sweats all day today. The humidity is also dropping, and I’ve been reaching for the lotion and chapstick pretty frequently. The wind really dropped off today, and we’ve been motor sailing most of the day. It’s pretty much as expected, so we can’t complain.
Also today, I came out of my passage lazy lethargy funk, and it’s been a great day. I enjoyed my morning watch as I tried to put off starting the engine while the wind was shifting from S to E and from 5 kts to 15 kts. Up-down, Up-down, back-forth, back-forth. I just sat at the helm and continuously corrected our heading so the sails would stay full and we’d keep moving forward. I didn’t nap in the afternoon, but rather worked on the next Gresham Family Exodus video production for Ha’apai and Tongatapu, and Tim’s also made a great video called, “Brenden versus Fish.” Pretty cool. So, we’re in the second phase of the passage where we motor for a while, and keep fretting about the third phase and what weather we will see as we approach New Zealand. At this point we are hoping for a late Wed/early Thurs arrival.

Day 4
260 nmi to go to Opua, New Zealand
73.7 deg F in the salon at ~8am

The wind has picked up today, which you’d think would be good, but unfortunately, it’s just a little too on the nose, so we are still motor sailing. We are giving up some of our westing, but the wind’s supposed to die again, and then we can motor more on the rhumb line. If you are watching our inReach track at all, it may even look like we did a bit of uturn today, and that’s just because we have to go where the wind tells us.

We are all getting excited to get to New Zealand. Brenden keeps asking if it’s going to be like the U.S., and he keeps talking about going shopping, in fact, back in Ha’apai he started making his shopping list. Here’s his list, word for word:

1. Hero-factory lego
2. Lots of yummy chocolate
3. A fish book like Jack’s
4. Thicker wetsuit
5. My own wetsuit top
6. New mechanical pencils
7. More chocolate
8. Skittles
9. New iPad case
10. A double-banded spear gun
11. Bagels with cream cheese
12. Cheetos
13. A big bag of tortilla chips with salsa, yum!

Tim has spent the day mostly reading about New Zealand. He asked me if I’ve read anything, and I told him I’ve read everything I need to in order to navigate safely to the Q dock, after that I have no idea.

Day 5
155 nmi to go to Opua, New Zealand
(I forgot to log the air temp this morning, just know that it’s brrr… Tim wears a scarf.)

We sailed today. Like, actual sailing with no engines or anything. We got a bit of a wind shift to the west for a while, but now it’s back to SSW, so we are motor sailing again, which admittedly is better than pure motoring into a direct headwind. It’s funny, cruisers usually mock each other for motoring, you know, because we ARE sailboats after all, not motorboats. But this is the sort of passage where there seems to be a free pass. I have heard David, the gulf harbor radio weather guy, give the lecture more than once, that on this passage if you aren’t making your target pace, he can’t encourage you enough to fire up the engine and burn the diesel. The wind is supposed to shift back west, and then we should be able to sail the rest of the way, but we’ll see. We have plenty of diesel, and we aren’t afraid to use it.
We had BBQ chicken for dinner tonight, because we need to finish all the meat we have in the freezer before we get there, or they will take it. Fresh veggies and dried beans too. And honey. And lots of other things too, but we’ll see how it really goes when we get there. We eat so much fish you’d think the boys have forgotten how to eat chicken. They were both covered in BBQ sauce. Sadly, I did not get a photo.
It’s looking like a probable nighttime arrival tomorrow night (night of 11/26 or wee hours of the morning 11/27, on THIS side of the dateline). We have a report from a previous vessel who arrived at night, and it’s definitely doable, but we’ll leave it for a game time decision depending on the conditions, visibility, how daring we are feeling, and our desperation level.

Day 6
44 nmi to go to Opua, New Zealand

We’ve had a great sail today, and we are currently zipping along on a beam reach at 8 kts of boat speed. We will definitely arrive tonight, probably sometime before midnight. I’ve been restless today, because I’m excited to get there. I’ve been trying to use my extra energy to tidy up, since we’ll be having New Zealand officials on the boat in the morning, but Exodus is determined to foil me by throwing me into tables and walls and such. It’s much nicer to just sit at the helm and watch the miles tick off. The boys are playing minecraft and they’re building a huge world together, so I keep hearing planning and giggling. I’ve been lax with school on this passage, so I’ll have to tighten the screws when we get there, because Brenden is so close to being done. Tim’s trimming sails and now we’re up to 8.5 knots. He REALLY wants to get there. The motion is really hard on his back. Or maybe the wind picked up a bit. Either way, we’ve definitely sped up.
I’ll make a facebook post when we are safely tied to the Q dock tonight, and then I’ll send out my final passage email some time tomorrow.

The End
Departure from North Minerva Reef: 20 November 14:45
Arrival at Opua, New Zealand: 26 November 23:45
Days at sea: 6 days 9 hours

Max wind: Low to mid 20s for about 5 hours up in the trade winds near Minerva and then again for about 1 hour as we neared the Bay of Islands.

Engine hour summary: 2.75 days with only one engine (motor sailing or motoring with no wind), 11 hrs with both engines (motoring into a headwind)

We could not have dialed up more perfect conditions for our last day and arrival. Like I wrote yesterday, we had a great sail our final day, with the winds peaking right around where we would normally reef the sails, but since we knew it would be very short lived, we allowed ourselves to just zip along. Then as we neared the bay at sunset the wind had died to a comfortable 10 kts or so and we were able to easily get the sails down. Then as we neared the channel down to the marina the wind completely died. I mean zero wind. So, we easily found the dock and tied up without any drama. One of the single handers we met in Tongatapu who was just ahead of us radioed to check on us at about 10pm, and he gave us some info about the dock (very low, put the fenders basically in the water) and told us he’d be there to catch our dock lines. Seriously, this guy had just completed the same passage by himself and was probably exhausted, but he wouldn’t think of not offering to help. I told him how much we appreciated it, but that all four of us were up, so we should be able to handle it, and he should get some much-deserved rest. I think I’ve made this point before, but we are definitely NOT a shorthanded crew. Alex and Brenden do their part, and as a result it’s much easier on me and Tim.

As we were approaching the land, we noticed the water turned a pretty gross green color. We are so spoiled by the pristine blue water we’ve grown accustomed to. I bet this is what the water looks like off of California, we just never noticed it before.

We were greeted by a group of air breathers as we entered the bay. It was so quiet that as one of them came up for air right near the port side of the boat, he actually startled me. I thought they were sea lions by the sound, but Tim said they were dolphins because he got a look at them, and he didn’t think there were sea lions here.

There are a ton of boats here. Right now, there are 5 boats on the Q dock with us. Two were here when we got here, one arrived last night after us, and one of our friend boats from Tongatapu just arrived this morning. The anchorage and mooring field are absolutely packed, and we are looking forward to seeking out friends after we get through the clearing in process.

It’s cold and crisp here this morning. I’m wearing Uggs and a ski cap, and my coffee isn’t nearly hot enough. The smell of the land is different here, but I can’t quite describe it. Tim said it just smells like shrubs, but I like to think it’s something more pleasant than that.

Happy Thanksgiving tomorrow to everyone. Wish we could be home with family this time of year, but I’m hopeful for the internet here, and maybe we can do some skyping.

Our track from Tonga to New Zealand