Sunrise at Roberton Island.

After breakfast we headed for Oke Bay, a storm hole of our choosing providing good shelter from the west. The weather prediction was for 25 knots from the southwest. We spent a rainy day there with naps, a book, and checkers. Mavis and I learned that we don’t remember how to play checkers. I learned that I’m particularly bad at it. This was the only anchorage during our entire charter where Boheme was the only boat. Although we were seldom alone, anchorages were never crowded.

Saturday, November 29 — Jerry discovered bioluminescence in the water at 0400 and got everyone up to see it. We went out on the swim platform and ran the dinghy painter and the boathook through the water. That was a highlight for me. I have always wanted to see this phenomenon. Jerry had discovered that we were swimming in a sea of bioluminescence when he flushed the toilet early that morning and the toilet bowl filled up with what we later referred to as “sparkles.” We had bioluminescence the following day as well when we were out beyond Cape Brett but we did not see it in the closer areas of the Bay of Islands. I thought the bioluminescence was a blue-green in color. Two of our gang thought it was white. And one thought it was multi-colored. It must be “all in the eye of the beholder.”

Cape Brett Lighthouse well up the hill from the keeper’s house would have made any lighthouse keeper a very healthy person!

This was going to be our “whale day.” We had had good luck with dolphins and many wonderful birds. The bioluminescence had been an unexpected bonus. Surely we could spot whales too?

Cape Brett’s Piercy Island is distinctive. An elephant? A mastodon? A wooly mammoth?

The Hole in the Rock. Tour boats — those without masts — venture through, we are told.

We leave Piercy Island at Cape Brett in our wake.

After breakfast we headed for Cape Brett and the hole in the rock on Piercy Island (aka Motukokako Island). We turned the corner and were anchored in Whangamumu Harbor by lunchtime. Although we were alert for them, we saw no whales along the way.

Whaling station remains at Whangamumu Harbor.

If your goal was to drag whales onto the beach, how else would you do it?

A dinghy ride to the beach followed. This anchorage was once a very busy whaling station. The remains of buildings and a short set of rails used for hauling large whales out of the water are still there to see along with a fading explanation of what’s what. We thought it was charming that, although the attitude about whaling has changed, no attempt was made to make this a “teaching moment” beyond offering the information about what happened here. The same thing was true of the Kauri Museum which explained how those magnificent trees had been logged and why they were important to the people of the time. Times have changed and yet there was no need to preach or lay a guilt trip on the current generations.

Chuck and Mavis head for the waterfall.

Our trip to Whangamumu included a couple of trails, one to a waterfall and the other to a lookout. A playful pair of dolphins seem to “own” this bay and were there to greet us when we arrived. We figured that having local dolphins is almost as cool as seeing whales.

Heading toward the lookout, a view of the remains of the whale processing operation.

And the requisite view of Boheme anchored, of course.

Sunday, November 30 — We were up early and off on our next exciting adventure. We thought it was going to blow 20 knots from the southwest later in the day and wanted to make a dinghy landing on the west-facing shore by Russell for a few more groceries. Oh, and wine. We had a great time sampling New Zealand wines. Jerry was particularly fond of Huntaway brand wine, in honor of the working dogs (Bess in particular) on our farm stay.

Piercy Island from the other side: a tortoise perhaps or a large elephant-like ancestor?

We headed back up the shore to Cape Brett and were just as inspired by the hole in the rock and elephant (or was it a wooly mammoth or a tortoise?) from this angle. On the way we passed through a flock of shearwaters (I think they were shearwaters) grouped together on the water. They took off at once – perhaps as many as 400 – in a dazzling display that was over all too soon. Since we wanted to make an “amphibious landing” at Russell while the wind was light, we motored all the way arriving around 0900. Chuck and Mavis went ashore and came back with groceries and wine enough for three more days. We were already counting the final days of our charter. How did the time go by so quickly? We would have to turn Boheme in on Wednesday by noon.

Once we had enough to keep body and soul nourished for a few more days — and most importantly real “formerly live” bait (frozen fish and squid) for our fisherman — we headed to Black Rocks for yet another round of fishing. The wind built throughout the day with periods of gusty and unsettled weather. We drifted downwind from there toward Roberton Island where we’d seen some incredible fishing a few days earlier. We were referring to that spot as Red’s Reef. Still no luck.

Anticipating stronger wind and from the southwest the following morning, we sailed to Parekura Bay, a bay so large it contains three smaller bays. We put the hook down in Waipiro Bay and swung on the hook while shots of wind blew down the surrounding hills like williwaws and whistled in the rigging.

Jerry at the helm. Just like in the Apostles, we had plenty of “cool” weather in the Bay of Islands.

New Zealand’s busy summer season was just beginning. There were many fishing and excursion boats operating. The R Tucker Thompson took a group out and flew all their sails every day, making for any number of photographic moments. Occasionally we’d see powerboats towing parasailors. Then three of the largest cruise ships we’d ever seen showed up. In addition to all this, there were the usual ferries for cars and others just for passengers operating between Russell and Opua and Paihia. It was a busy place. I can’t imagine how much busier it might be when peak season arrives. All the boats on moorings that were not out and sailing while we were there give us a clue about the peak boating population.

The Opua to Russell ferry saves a long drive around the bay.

We never expected to see ships of this size in our cruising paradise.

You NEVER want to see a cruise ship from this perspective.

The little town of Opua is a New Zealand customs and entry port for cruisers arriving from all over the Pacific. We were aware of the cruiser community, but they’re not located near the wharf where Fairwinds Charters operates. Other than one trip back to Opua early in the week, we were out in the islands and didn’t have an opportunity to meet anyone from the cruising community.

They finally caught . . . something! Is this exciting, or what?!

This puts a whole new spin on that phrase: catching a few rays.

This day’s fishing report was a bit more stimulating than the previous ones. Jerry got a ray on the line and it gave him quite a fight from the stern to the bow of the boat. Chuck took over and was very excited by what might be on the line. Once they figured out that they’d snagged a ray, they cut it loose. It provided a good afternoon’s entertainment and woke up a bunch of sleepy, sunburned sailors.

Monday, December 1 — It was cold this morning and blowing 15 from the southwest and predicted to trend toward the south. We had enough early morning wind to sail off the anchor (although you don’t get any “style points” for that since you first have to run the engine in order to run the anchor windlass and raise the anchor). We put up the main and jib and headed up the inlet to Kerikeri on a sightseeing mission. We read in the cruising guide that the sailing club had a restaurant. Having a lunch that we did not make ourselves sounded like a nice change but when I phoned to ask whether they served lunch, we learned that the restaurant was open on Friday nights only until the summer season gets underway in full force.

Next we thought we might find whales and headed for deeper water but were disappointed once more in that pursuit. The lesson here is that the things you find are those you do not seek (gannets, blue penguins, bioluminescence, and dolphins come to mind) but those you seek, such as fish for dinner or an exciting whale sighting, remain elusive. We have been very contented with all the new creatures we have seen. No complaints. All good, as they say in New Zealand.

On this day the weather was gusty and volatile with winds primarily from the southwest. We thought Army Bay (aka Waiwhapuku Bay) on Moturua Island might be a good anchorage but looked it over and turned away for Manawaora Bay. I was particularly taken with the gnarly tree there at the point and named it “the witch tree” after a similar one on Lake Superior. There are many great species of trees that I was unable to identify in New Zealand. At least I could identify some of the remaining kauri trees and the many magnificent Norfolk Island Pines.

The gnarly witch tree of the Bay of Islands (according to Karen Larson).

Tuesday, December 2 — This was to be our last full day aboard. Time spent sailing goes by quickly. The morning temperature was brisk once again but it warmed up with the sun. If we were troubled by the weather at all, we had only to remember how things were going weatherwise at home in Minneapolis. We headed out once more to look for whales with similar results. (See above for philosophy about the elusive quality of things one seeks.)

We sailed all day in a variety of conditions with a full or reefed mainsail. We had what we think was a Northern Giant Petrel land in our wake, however. This is a large brown bird about the size of a goose. And we had one last farewell sighting of the porpoises. It seemed as if they were saying goodbye.

As we headed back toward town, we passed close by two big cruise ships anchored between Russell and Paihia. They were launching small motorboats to ferry passengers here or there on various missions. By way of contrast, not long after, we watched a wooden boat being expertly soloed and had a few words with her skipper. He was in Russell for a wooden boat regatta that was coming up on the weekend. His boat was about 100 years old. He said he’d spent four years restoring her.

The wooden boat we preferred to the cruise ships that were nearby.

By the time we were watching him sail her singlehanded out of the mooring and back, we were anchored near Russell almost exactly where we had spent our first night. It seemed fitting. Chuck and Mavis, who were not sailors when we began, were by this time talking like sailors. They knew what the parts of the boat were called and how they functioned. They knew how the unusual marine systems on the boat worked. We all had become comfortable with this boat and this cruising ground.

Our contented crew.

The Bay of Islands is, in many ways, like the Apostle Islands of home. It was a great choice of a cruising ground. There are several chartering choices in New Zealand. This was the perfect one for the four of us. We’d had a good cruise and were sorry to see it end.

Like our home cruising ground, they even had fog in the Bay of Islands, although we were told fog never happens here.

Wednesday, December 3 — The cruise did end a bit abruptly the following morning. We had switched out the propane tank the night before when it ran out while we were cooking dinner. But the spare tank was running on fumes. There was nothing left in the morning for coffee. There’s a song about “No coffee!” and we could have sung it that morning (even the two of us who are tea drinkers).

We headed back to the Opua wharf a bit earlier than planned in order to have a “proper breakfast” at the Marina Cafe. They hadn’t exactly open yet. The cook had not arrived. But coffee and tea were available on the spot. Life is good. Breakfast was terrific too.

We went through the motions of cleaning and emptying the boat. Check every cubbie! We discovered a couple of things we’d misplaced and had not been able to locate throughout the entire charter. Jerry and Kim of Fairwinds Charters went through the final paperwork . . . and it was time to go.

Chuck and Mavis, who had been acquaintances to begin with, were now lifelong friends. How many friends or relatives would you be willing to spend 10 days with in a small space while facing unfamiliar systems, anchorages, and occasional bits of lousy weather? Our own list is short. Perhaps Jerry and I needed T-shirts: “I survived 10 days on a small yacht with my accountant and his wife.” Chuck and Mavis could have a similar set of shirts made up proclaiming that they had allowed a couple of mere clients — people Chuck normally sees once a year — to make a bareboat charter possible for him. We said good-bye several times. It was hard to let go. Chuck and Mavis had to get back to Auckland and would fly out on the 4th.

Oh, captain, our captain! Jerry at the helm.

Jerry and I had one more day to play in New Zealand. We drove first to the nearby town of Kawakawa, well known for its baroque public toilets. You read that correctly. I could not bring myself to take photos of a bathroom, but here’s a link that helps: http://www.teara.govt.nz/en/photograph/7817/kawakawa-public-toilets. The toilets, and apparently other buildings and spaces too, were designed by an Austrian emigrant named Frederick Hundertwasser. We walked the main street and noticed a number of bizarre architectural examples.

Then we drove west across the peninsula to Opononi to see the Tasman Sea and the very impressive dunes it has built there. From there it was south on the Twin Coast Discovery Highway to see New Zealand’s greatest giant old kauri tree, Tane Mahuta, in the Waipoua Forest with a stop along the way at Baylys Beach. We enjoyed the Waipoua Forest and also the wonderful rolling hills south of there studded with dairy farms.

Massive dunes on the west coast formed by the Tasman Sea.

Tane Mahuta, the oldest and largest kauri tree on New Zealand’s North Island.

We were charmed when a couple of farmers on four-wheelers accompanied by a dog or two maneuvered a full herd of cows across the road for their afternoon milking. Slowly winding our way toward the airport that would send us home, we stopped for the night along the way in Dargaville.

Thursday, December 4 — We landed on this last day at the Surrey Hotel, that was to be our launching pad for our trip to the airport. We had to organize our suitcases back to the proper loads since we could have two carry-ons of only 15 pounds (and these cases weigh 5 pounds empty) and the two large duffels with everything else, essentially one full of clean clothes and one full of dirty clothes.

I walked the streets looking at the shops and available restaurants, but our energy was sapped. We ate at the Surry Hotel and turned in for our last good sleep before another very long flight.

Friday, December 5 — The sigh of relief when we turned in the rental car with nary a scratch on it should have been heard around the world. It certainly took a load off our shoulders.

This day was the longest of our lives because (thanks to the international date line) there were two Friday, December 5ths and both were spent in airports and in airplanes. Our seats on the New Zealand Air plane on the home-bound flight were much smaller and even more cramped than those on the out-bound flight. But the flights were on time even though the long wait between flights in LAX was maddening.

We arrived home at 11 p.m. and took a taxi to friend Pat Morris’ home. Pat kept our car for us so we wouldn’t have to pay airport parking prices for a month. We got our car and got lost on the highways of Minneapolis, due to construction detours. Unfortunately our faithful GPS was stored somewhere in the luggage in the trunk. Once we sorted all that out and stopped at a grocery store so we’d have something to eat in the morning, it was 3 a.m. the following day. It was no longer the Friday from hell. Know what? We weren’t tired!

We spent another hour or so with a glass of wine or scotch in hand and talked about the many experiences we’d had. We’ll be talking about the best parts of the trip for years to come.

Our accountant and his wife: Chuck and Mavis Schwartzhoff.

First though we wanted to meet his wife. Was she an outdoors type or the sort who didn’t want to damage a fingernail? We wanted to see whether the four of us could be compatible in a small space. We wanted to know if anyone was prone to seasickness. So Chuck and Mavis joined us for a weekend sailing Mystic in the Duluth/Superior area. That went well and we decided to share the costs of a more ambitious cruise with them. I couldn’t get into planning a cruise in the British Virgins, however, and upped the ante. How about a cruise in New Zealand? They bit.

A 10-day sail with virtual strangers? Your accountant? Are you nuts?

So there we were in Opua in late November ready to spend intense “together time” never more than 40 feet away from each other for 10 days. Someone asked, when hearing this tale of unlikely crewmembers, “Were these people friends of yours?” My instant response was: “Well, they are now.” We were quite compatible. All four of us had a great time.

Fairwind Charters’ Boheme, a 40-foot Beneteau Oceanis 405.

Our boat was Boheme, a 40-foot Beneteau Oceanis 405. We had asked for this boat because it was the smallest one offered by Fairwind Charters that had forward and aft cabins and two heads, giving each couple a modicum of privacy.

To start, Kim Borgstrom, owner of Fairwind Charters, gave us a checklist of things to find aboard, essentially a list of what’s where. We checked the boat over: deck, cabin, and cubbie. Then we purchased groceries in the nearby town of Paihia and had lunch at the marina. We fussed around renting fishing poles for Chuck, having a final checkout discussion with Kim, and getting Jerry’s signature as captain of the vessel on the document that essentially pledged our firstborn against any damages.

Our flying carpet to adventures in the Bay of Islands.

We were underway by late afternoon and traveled only a few miles to an anchorage and mooring field near Russell. We cooked aboard and settled into the cockpit to identify the Southern Cross, something I’d been trying to do since arriving in New Zealand with limited success. An app I purchased for my iPad should have made it easy — we knew the basic shape it should be — but we were more confused than ever and never did locate it with any certainty although a running joke throughout the week is that there are any number of Southern Crosses in the sky. Since it’s a kite-or cross-shaped group of four stars, it’s easy to find groups of stars that meet the description.

Monday, November 24 — We woke up near Russell to a beautiful day. As soon as we had the anchor off the bottom, Jerry ran Chuck and Mavis through some basic steering and MOB drills. Then we were off.

Jerry’s at the helm and Chuck fishes.

Not long after we turned the corner toward Urupukapuka Island, we were surrounded by porpoises. This welcome was a great way to start the trip. During the day the wind increased from 0 to 15. Perfect. Still feeling a bit like strangers in a strange boat, we first raised just the main and sailed conservatively. When the wind picked up, we had lunch under bare poles and afterward rolled out the genoa (approximately a 110). The sailplan on Boheme is nicely balanced.

Urupukapuka Island was a great place to start with great walks and wonderful scenery.

Of course we had to climb every mountain, ford every stream.

Urupukapuka Island is one of the EASIER names to pronounce!

Why do cruisers feel the need to climb each hill they see?

We anchored in Urupukapuka Bay to the southeast of Urupukapuka Island in time for a hike. Jerry stayed behind while Chuck, Mavis, and I used the dinghy for the first time. It has a 5-hp Yamaha. We landed on a rock and shell beach and followed a trail up a hill and back down next to a sheep pasture.

What a treat to see a blue penguin!

Tuesday, November 25 – From Urupukapuka Island at the eastern end, we raised both sails and headed for the western shore of the Bay of Islands. Along the way we saw several blue penguins. The gannets that soar beautifully and then tuck and dive for their fish like large terns have become my new favorite birds. They’re right up there with the loons I so enjoy on Lake Superior.

Gannets are my new favorite birds . . . along with loons, that is.

Gannet soaring just before a tuck and dive.

We had a nice sail to Rangihoua Bay on the Purerua Peninsula next to the Marsden Cross. Chuck and Mavis took off on an unsuccessful fishing mission while Jerry and I stayed aboard and enjoyed hearing the hiss of the surf on the rocky beach.

The “family car” to get us to shore.

Wednesday, November 26 – We had heard that Black Rocks is a good place for fishing and we saw a number of sport fishers there. Chuck gave it a go when we passed the area on the way back to Opua but was unable to get any bites. As we were headed for civilization anyway for a few things, we decided to give a different bait a try.

Black Rocks is well named.

What? Still no fish?

We returned to Opua because we had forgotten a couple of things in the car and wanted to do a better job with provisioning. Thanksgiving was approaching and we had not caught any fish (as hoped). We had lunch in Opua then took the ferry to Russell primarily for groceries but we also visited the town’s museum and enjoyed walking the town. We stayed overnight at the Fairwinds Charters wharf.

The town of Russell had groceries and a neat regional museum.

“Private Anchorage for patrons of the Pub Building only.” They also have a sense of humor in Russell.

Thursday, November 27 (Thanksgiving) – Early the next morning we discovered that the gaff-rigged square tops’l schooner R Tucker Thompson is berthed nearby at the Opua wharf. We had been seeing this traditional schooner out on the water from afar and were glad to get close to her. Later that day we had a chance to see her sailing at close range.

We made a fuss over her at the wharf. You’d think we’d discovered the schooner R Tucker Thompson ourselves!

Well, she IS gorgeous and was out sailing every day during our cruise.

Once Chuck had bait, we returned to Black Rocks once more to fish but were disappointed again.

We headed toward Motuarohia Island (aka Roberton Island) and were delighted by dolphins once more. Then we noticed a couple of fishermen on a small red runabout named Red hauling in snapper right and left on the shoal to the southwest of Roberton Island. Chuck tried this new spot with his new “stinky bait” but still had no bites.

Roberton Island (aka Motuarohia Island) is a gorgeous Land Before Time island.

The weather pattern while we were there seemed to be to start the day with little or no wind and then fire up to 15 knots out of the west, northwest, or southwest by late morning before dropping again as the sun went down. We had shorts weather during the first few days, but it soon cooled and remained that way throughout the rest of our charter. Nights in this shoulder season between spring and summer were cool. Long pants felt right throughout the daytime hours.

A lovely beach and a trail leading to an overlook with a great view. What more could you ask for?

The Roberton Island overlook is WAY up there and worth every step!

There are stunning views, no matter which way you turn.

We had a great walk to a very nice outlook at Roberton and appreciated the little lagoon there where a red-billed oyster catcher was sitting on her nest protected by a rope enclosure. She was not in the least afraid of those who observed from just outside the ropes.

Red-billed oyster catcher on her nest.

That evening we sat in the cockpit for our Thanksgiving dinner with rack of lamb, oysters, mushrooms, potatoes, and bok choy. Like the rest of our dinners aboard, we finished up with a few squares of chocolate. It’s a perfect ending to any good meal and this one was particularly fine.

It was a Thanksgiving not to be forgotten.

We had acquired about a dozen oysters from a couple of men while we were at the Opua wharf. I had asked them what they had there, as they were offloading large buckets full of shellfish. They told us they use a screwdriver and hammer to harvest oysters from pilings when the tide is low. They do not harvest them near the Opua wharf and ferry landing, but that’s where they were offloading them within sight of our overnight slip. Since we were so interested in the process and outcome, they were kind enough to give us a few. We fried them in a bit of butter and enjoyed them very much as part of the Thanksgiving feast.

It appears that you can’t even raise sheep on the high desert. It seems pretty barren with a special beauty all its own.

Late spring? Nearly summer? It was still snowing in the mountains in Tongariro National Park to the west as we drove north on North Island’s motorway #1 toward Rotorua.

Located in Tongariro National Park, Mount Ruapehu is the largest active volcano in New Zealand. We’re pretty sure this peak is Tahurangi. At 2,797 meters (9,176 feet), this is the tallest peak on North Island.

Rotorua, an hour or two north of Lake Taupo, is a tourist town with two major Maori (pronounced Mau-ri; rhymes with kauri) attractions and quite a few geysers, hot springs, and bubbling mud pits. We visited one of the Maori sites known as Te Puia the afternoon we arrived in town.

Welcome to Te Puia in Rotorua.

Maori carving at Te Puia.

Te Puia is known for its weaving and carving schools so Maori students can learn these important traditional crafts. The weaving is not done on a loom, as I had expected, but is more similar to traditional grass mat and basket weaving in concept, although my simplification does it an injustice.

Example of a Maori garment and weaving style.

Weaving and carving students learn the traditional crafts at Te Puia.

Te Puia also happens to have a large geyser called Pohutu on the grounds. It goes off every 40 minutes or so. The area is surrounded by natural hot springs, bubbling mud pits, and other steam vents. The Maori have used the vents for slow cooking their food for many years.

Pohuto geyser is the Kiwi version of Old Faithful. It goes off every 40 minutes like clockwork. Perfect timing for the tourists who visit.

This place — with its many geysers and hot springs — is a reminder of the intense heat below the earth’s surface that every so often has to escape one way or another. Think about that. Maybe it’s better not to think about it.

There is also a kiwi house where people can see the nocturnal kiwi bird if they’re lucky. We were very lucky. One was digging right next to the viewing window when we were there. Sorry. No photos are allowed or possible in a very dark kiwi lodge.

We also enjoyed seeing our second Maori war canoe. This one was at Te Puia.

Bow of Maori war machine covered with intricate carving.

The stern in the two examples we saw features a little carved fellow reclining.

How the Maori lived at one time.

This sort of raised adn more elaborate construction was about food storage.

Where did the Maori come from? This represents one hypothesis. We were struck by some of the similarities to Pacific Northwest art. We bought into this theory.

Friday, November 21 – We stopped at the Agrodome in the morning on our way out of town. The Agrodome northwest of Rotorua has a show about New Zealand sheep and the dogs that drive them. After watching farmer Neil’s dogs (and sheep) in action, we wanted to learn all we could and enjoyed the presentation and surroundings very much.

A live show with the 19 breeds of New Zealand sheep (all rams). The first four: Texel, Lincoln, Perendale, and Black Romney.

More rams — with the Merino as king. Others include South Suffolk, Romney, Drysdale, Dorset Horn, Corriedale, English Leicester, Border Leicester, Southdown, Coopworth, Dorper, Dorset Down, Poll Dorset, Cheviot . . . I hope I got them all!

We got to see how a sheep is sheared too. It doesn’t take long and the sheep seems fairly accepting of this turn of events even though it only happens once or twice a year and isn’t all that common an occurrence in the life of a sheep.

Perhaps there are some indignities that you just have to endure. This too will pass. Sigh.

In a half minute or less, it’s all over. When they talk about a “fleecing” in a financial sense, think of this sheep.

Jerry, of course, became instant buddies with the dog who is part of the show.

Is there a theme here: Jerry and the dogs?

I, of course, as a weaver, was more interested in the large merino ram we found!

But I did bring home at least one photo of the flightless kiwi bird.

We were off to Wellsford, a small town north of Auckland. This took us through Auckland during rush hour and resulted in a stressful drive for the driver and drivee alike. As we arrived there, I told Jerry I was not sure we had enough scotch to calm our (my) frayed nerves. And I don’t even LIKE scotch!

Saturday, November 22 – We spent the morning at the Kauri Museum in Matakohe on our way north to Whangerei. It’s an excellent museum. We didn’t have enough time to take it all in. An antique car club get together, with the members wearing period costumes, distracted us from the kauri gum exhibit with the story of how these old trees were logged and also bled for gum resin.

The classic car show (with period costumes) was fun at the Kauri Museum in Matakohe.

Even these classic vehicles have the steering wheel on the right. It’s hard to get used to this.

We particularly enjoyed seeing how much fun the owners of the classic cars were having together.

They had examples of beautiful furniture made from kauri trees and many more exhibits with dressed models set in realistic surroundings of the times. Seeing the beautiful furniture made it clear why this wood was valued even though the loggers had to work really hard to bring a tree of this size down. Then how do you move these things and how do you deal with the immense trunks once you get them to the sawmill? They accomplished all that and more because the kauri wood was so highly regarded.

We planned to visit Annie Hill in Whangerei (prounounced Fangerei — The “wh” sound becomes an “f” in Maori speak) on our way to Opua and our sailing charter. Annie has been writing articles for Good Old Boat lately. We knew we’d be in her “stomping grounds” (or should I say cruising grounds?) and we hoped to meet her in person.

Every so often our GPS simply took the day off; the rest of the time it was invaluable. On this day it was not offering useable information. After a crazy search based on very bad GPS information, we settled in at Tealmere Grove Bed & Breakfast owned by a Dutch couple, Anne and Harry Evers. (Note that we’re dealing with an Anne and an Annie here.) The bed and breakfast is very nice. Harry built their home using a real unusual process and created an incredible garden in back. (He doesn’t like to mow lawns.) I had hoped to do our laundry there, but Anne did it for us as if by magic. We certainly weren’t expecting that sort of royal treatment!

This is what happens if a guy REALLY doesn’t like to mow lawns.

We’re talking serious no lawn mowing here at Tealmere Grove Bed & Breakfast in Whangerei.

One more just for inspiration at Anne and Harry Evers’ wonderful home and B&B.

When we arrived at her B&B in late afternoon, Anne had tea and cake waiting. This was also nice and totally unexpected. What’s more she created a marvelous breakfast the next morning.

Before arriving at Tealmere Grove we first wandered over to the harbor where Annie Hill has her boat hauled out and has been working on it. For all you Annie Hill fans, do you think I would have thought to take a photo? I did not.

After checking in at Tealmere, we returned to the harbor to have dinner with Annie and her friend, Marcus, in the boat shed he built on the property. He’s been restoring a Columbia Challenger for his own use while working on other people’s boats at the yard. He has boat design on his resume as well.

Annie, of course, has her own very impressive sailing resume and is the author of at least one very well-known book: Voyaging on a Small Income. It was fun to meet her in her own environment, although it would have been better yet to get together in the Bay of Islands aboard sailboats. Unfortunately her Fantail (named after the wonderful little NZ bird) would not be launched for a few more weeks. We hear she’s out there cruising now. We didn’t miss an on-the-water connection by more than a couple of weeks.

We had our own house for two days.

We expected that this stay would be a highlight and it was. We arrived around noon on Tuesday and spent the afternoon drenching approximately 200 sheep with Neil way up on the hillside where he had built a series of pens to corral the sheep. He had rounded up this group earlier in the day. Now they waited his personal attention, which involved giving an oral dose of worm medicine to each ewe and a half dose to each lamb. They had to be chased — about 30 to 40 at a time or however many would fit — into the narrow chute where he isolated them. He held each one between his knees long enough to give it a dose of medicine and then released it to a pen for later return to its home pasture. He could do quite a few sheep in a minute.

Counting sheep? About 200 hundred were gathered to take an oral dose of medicine.

Our job was to help Bess herd the sheep into a narrow chute.

Bess normally does this by herself. She doesn’t really need assistance.

Who’ll be next? Moms and babies await their trip down the chute for medicine.

Jerry’s and my job, working with Bess, a New Zealand Huntaway mixed breed who normally manages this all by herself, was to drive each new group of sheep into the narrow chute as soon as Neil finished the previous group. Jerry fell in love with Bess, but he’s fickle. He falls in love with many dogs. This one, along with another Huntaway and five Heading Dogs (a border collie derivative also called Eye Dogs), are Neil’s “staff”. Since he’s a sheep farmer, you might just use that word “staff” in every possible sense.

Jerry and Bess during times when Bess was not needed for herding.

Bess took it easy between “jobs.”

The Huntaways are mustering dogs. Their job is to bark and drive the sheep away from the farmer. This pretty much turns a pasture of rather calm sheep into bloomin’ ninneys. They begin to run and aren’t too terribly brainy about direction or obstacles. The Heading Dogs’ job is to keep the group together and moving in the right direction when herding them toward a pen or back to their pasture (paddock). These dogs, working on signals from the farmer as well on their own very good instincts, cut off those that did not follow the lead sheep and headed them back to the flock.

All the dogs worked when it was time to “round ’em up and head ’em back to their paddock.

It’s not easy getting a bunch of “bloomin’ ninneys” to go in one direction.

After he had ministered to all 200 or so sheep held there, Neil and the dogs drove the whole gang back to their home paddock. Each ewe and lamb would go back to its own familiar territory and be reunited there. Running them to their paddock was a journey of several miles. Neil drove a 4-wheeler — with us on the back — on narrow pathways uphill and down, sometimes at some extremely steep angles.

Jerry and Neil follow the sheep and dogs on a 4-wheeler.

I got a chance to ride too! Neil says they used to do it all on horseback. In that case I would have opted out.

The next morning we helped once more (or observed really) as he and the dogs rounded up the next group of sheep for their drenching. It was an experience of a lifetime and the views from his pastures are outstanding.

Gorgeous and hilly country!

What a view even without the special addition of seeing a day in the life of a sheep farmer.

That night we had a marvelous meal that Virginia cooked for us and for two other B&B guests who were staying for one night at the farmhouse along with and their personal driver/tour guide. They left the next morning after a brief farm tour and we headed back up the hill with Neil for our second half day observing a small segment of the life of a sheep farmer. It threatened to rain and turn cold that afternoon. Because we are tourists, we chose to stay home after lunch, while Neil had to go back at it with yet another batch of sheep. He cares for about 2,000 Romney sheep each year with about seven or eight rams. We later learned that there are 19 breeds of sheep in New Zealand. The Romneys are known to be good for wool and for meat.

Jerry and Neil “talk shop.”

The “overworked” rams that must see to it that about 2,000 ewes get pregnant each spring.

Two Angus bulls must make sure that 800 cows give birth each year.

At our invitation, Neil and Virginia joined us for wine and cheese at Hodd Cabin on our second night because we enjoyed their company so much. Then we were off fairly early in the morning, just as Neil set off with the dogs for yet another day with the sheep. If we had arrived a day or two later, we would have observed a day in the life of a beef farmer. As soon as the final cow delivered her calf (and that was imminent), he had plans to administer to each of the new calves. In addition to the sheep, he keeps approximately 80 Angus cows and two bulls.

We enjoyed playing at being a farmer, while Neil Travers works hard at it every day.

We were amazed by the variety of new plants and flowers (most of which were in bloom in New Zealand’s spring in late November), new trees, new birds, and the multitude of place names to remember, many of which are in Maori (very long, very similar, and practically unpronounceable).

We found a nice hotel in Hamilton (a couple of hours’ drive south of Auckland) and settled in. This was the first of several hotels we discovered with kitchenettes. We have been charmed that the proprietors have given us a carton of milk to use in our tea or coffee in the mornings. We don’t take our tea “white,” but this practice is delightful nonetheless.

Being able to cook some of our breakfasts and dinners led us to another kind of cultural experience: shopping at the local grocery stores. We were very impressed with the variety of food available and were glad that it is all labeled in English, as this kind of experience in a foreign language would have added yet another layer of interest, amusement, and — without doubt — stress.

While we’re on the subject of cultural exchange, we purchased a local prepaid phone on our first day in the country. We wanted to be able to contact people we were hoping to meet up with, make hotel reservations once we knew where we’d like to stop for a night, and so forth. It also came in VERY handy in getting in touch with our bank about freezing our bank accounts and creating the thaw. Getting used to another new bit of technology has challenges all its own but we mostly managed. We put NZ$20 in it that lasted us until the end of the trip. I can’t figure out what our actual usage was. I understand that if I had a smart phone to begin with, a new SIM card would do the trick much more easily. But neither my phone nor its operator are all that smart. We’re making do.

Jerry named Hamilton the “City of Roundabouts.” Let’s just say that he met several challenges and had a number of “educational experiences” with roundabouts there. We’re not very familiar with these intersections at home . . . in New Zealand we were doing them backward and in high heels. Two-lane roundabouts with more than the usual four streets coming together got the highest marks on the stress meter.

Let’s see now. You put your right foot in and shake it all about . . .

Monday, November 17 – By Monday we had arrived at the Waitomo Glowworm Caves. It was pouring rain so a cave trip seemed like a perfect way to spend a morning. Google “glowworm caves” for some terrific photos. We weren’t allowed to take photos since the glowworms are sensitive to light.

The tour was great. We had excellent tour guides each time we went the tourist route in New Zealand. This was one of those experiences. The caves and tours are run by the Maori tribe of that area. The glowworms are quite pretty and their life cycle is very interesting. That they’re there at all is amazing. Once the cave was flooded and they had to be re-introduced from another nearby cave. A second time those caring for the cave as a tourist attraction allowed too much ventilation to flow the caves and the worms died and had to be re-introduced once more.

Our tour was followed by a very nice lunch and we were off to Turangi, just south of Lake Taupo for the night. This is a world-renowned trout fishing Mecca.

Lake Taupo is New Zealand’s largest lake. It covers 240 square miles. When you realize that it is the crater of a VERY LARGE volcano, it’s an impressive sight. The first of the volcanic explosions at this site occurred approximately 26,500 years ago. This first one holds the unenviable record as the largest volcanic explosion in the past 70,000 years. Subsequent eruptions occurred over the following thousands of years and impacted other continents in the Southern Hemisphere. It is said to be dormant, rather than extinct, at this time.

An impressive lake by any measure and a real destination for trout fishermen.

What must be remembered is that this is a volcano crater, folks!

What a lot of work the Pardeys have done to make this property a home and welcoming beacon to visitors!

The best way to arrive at the Pardeys’ home would be to cruise in and anchor nearby with your own boat. Four of our Auckland subscribers were invited to a barbecue at Lin and Larry’s home on Saturday night, but windy and rainy conditions determined that we would have the Pardeys to ourselves that night. We had gale-force winds all afternoon and well into the night. The most impressive shots were in the 40-knot range. If anyone could have made it to the mooring field, they could not easily have dinghied from there to the Pardeys’ wharf. We enjoyed two days with Lin and Larry getting a quick introduction to the local birds and island culture, watching the water fill and empty the bay in front of their home, and appreciating Lin’s wonderful cooking and hospitality. Lin is an extraordinary hostess no matter where she is located . . . and nowhere more so than in the comfort of her own home. It was wonderful to see the property the two of them had rescued from a rundown summer cottage site to a beautiful home and shop for maintaining their own boats and those of others. Larry’s health has not been good in the past couple of years so he is no longer working on boat projects for others and Taleisin has potential new owners.

Larry’s boat shed is called 3M, which stands for Mickey Mouse Marine

A lifetime’s worth of boat tools and equipment makes Larry’s boat shed a comfortable place.

Taleisin at the dock.

Taleisin and Cheeky await new adventures.

Lin’s office building is called the Elf Office.

The office space is just right for Lin, who has begun publishing other sailors’ books and is busy in the Kawau Island community.

A map of the Pardeys’ world travels is on the wall of the guest room. “As long as it’s fun,” they always said . . . and it was fun for a long time!

Sunday, November 16 – We met the young and enthusiastic couple who are hoping to become Taleisin’s next caretakers if all goes as planned. Eben and Annie Bryns dropped by to learn more about their intended future cruiser as Jerry and I were leaving on the Sunday-morning ferry. They soaked up every word Lin was saying as she pointed to areas of interest aboard.

Eben and Annie spend time with Lin getting to know Taleisin.

Eben and Annie Bryns didn’t miss a word Lin said.

Then we were off on our next adventure. The town of Warkworth, on the mainland, is the center of civilization if you live on Kawau Island. Lin was, therefore, aware of a small community museum (probably not in any tourist guidebook) and a nearby old-growth forest with a couple of 1,000-year-old kauri trees and a few other old giants as well. Called the Warkworth Museum and Parry Kauri Walk, this is probably one of New Zealand’s best-kept secrets. A track leads down into a ravine and back in time. The overhead canopy of trees and vines is so dense that sunlight barely penetrates. The dense foliage seems to drip as only those trees and ferns in a rainforest should do. I was fairly certain there be dinosaurs in there, even though we neither saw nor heard one. It was exceptionally quiet, however, with the occasional songs that birds make in spring.

You can find a town named Warkworth pretty much anywhere! This sign was outside the Warkworth Museum. Warkworth, Ontario, (the nearest Warkworth to our home)  is a mere 8,880 miles.

One of several 1,000-year-old kauri trees in New Zealand.

We had lunch down the shore in Waiwera and headed south on the motorway through Auckland and out the other side by now “fairly confidently” driving on the left. Driving competently was still a goal, but we were working on it. (Jerry drove. Let’s just say that Karen “coached.” When we were on the road, the mere act of driving took all our attention all the time. Two heads really are better than one in this case. Jerry did not mind my continual reminders. Most of the time, that is.)

From our Los Angeles hotel window we could see this billboard. It reminded me of our heroic attempts to catch the plane to NZ when our connection from Minneapolis was too late to save us.

It’s not easy to catch a plane.

The flight from LAX to Auckland is a 12- to 13-hour event. Air New Zealand schedules flights at night so travelers can sleep part of the way and deal rather well with jet lag. While you’re sleeping, one day of your life vanishes as you cross the international dateline. (We would get one back later in exchange.) Since we spent a day stranded in Los Angeles, we didn’t arrive in Auckland until the morning of November 12.

Once there, we spent the next month being five hours behind Minneapolis time . . . but one full day ahead.

The city by the sea in the land of the long white cloud welcomed a pair of weary travelers.

In its attempt to stay on our plane with us, our luggage was shuffled onto and off of any number of luggage trams and baggage carousels. As a result a piece of Jerry’s duffel went missing and was later found damaged. We were reimbursed NZ$70 for the damage. This was a good thing, as it turned out, because our credit card had been turned off by our bank due to “suspicious activity” in spite of attempts in advance to prevent this sort of travel hassle. During our first two days, our only source of money was this small donation from Air New Zealand.

The last test — we had anticipated it for weeks with dread — was having to drive on the left side of the road. The way you learn to do it is to just . . . start driving. At highway speed. Think of busy intersections with annoyed drivers who know where they’re going (why don’t you?). Think of roundabouts. Think stress.

Jerry was getting into the routine of driving on the other side of the road toward the end of the first week. By this time we could remember where the steering wheel is located and where the driver sits.

Wednesday, November 12, 2014 – In need of an attitude adjustment, we set off for Bavaria Bed & Breakfast in Auckland’s Mount Eden district one full day late and a few NZ dollars short. Host and owner Eileen Devillers offered the comforts of home and restored our sanity.

Still terrified of driving, we rode a bus to town, walked the city and wharf, and visited Marianne Bosman and Janet Lewis at Boat Books on Westhaven Drive. This lovely marine bookstore, located in the heart of a very boat-focused commercial district, carries Good Old Boat on the newsstand. We had to see that and to meet Marianne, the woman who made it possible. We believe this is the only newsstand in the entire Southern Hemisphere that carries Good Old Boat.

Marianne makes sure Good Old Boat is front and center on the newsstand at Boat Books.

Thursday, November 13, 2014 – The next day we bravely set forth with the rental car to visit the Auckland War Memorial Museum. While it recognizes the role played by New Zealanders in the world wars and those that followed, it also has a very good Maori permanent exhibit, a natural history floor (dinosaur fossils and many stuffed native birds), and an informative and absolutely frightening exhibit about the volcanic nature of New Zealand and the fact that a volcanic eruption could come again soon or any time within the next 1,000 years (and notes that if it did what the impact would be). This exhibit and the Maori war canoe were the highlights of our visit. The canoe, built from a single log, was built to carry 100 warriors. It’s 85 feet of beautiful Maori carvings.

We liked the Maori carvings. The anchor is shown in the foreground. We’ve come a long way in terms of ground tackle.

Eighty-five feet of lovely carvings and meant to carry 100 strong paddlers, this Maori war canoe is a well-preserved piece of Maori history. For perspective, that’s Jerry in the yellow jacket standing at the bow nearly 85 feet away.

Friday, November 14, 2014 – In the morning we drove to Mount Eden, an extinct volcano only a few blocks from Bavaria Bed & Breakfast. It was windy at the top and we watched a cloud roll in over Auckland, covering it in a mist of rain.

The crater at Mount Eden reminds us that New Zealand was formed by volcanoes, some of which are still active. And it offers a great view of the city.

Once our guests had gone (See: Summer vacation, part 1) and our boating buddies had also left (See: Summer vacation, part 2), Jerry and I were left alone for another week or so of independent cruising. We did more walking and reading together than we’d had time for previously. We spent several peaceful nights at anchor. We did more exploring on shore and on the water. I walked a couple of trails I’ve never walked before. And yes, we finally focused on maintenance projects we had been ignoring, such as what do do with that clanging spinnaker halyard.

You don’t mind a tapping spinnaker halyard until its chatter keeps you up at night.

We had two long and excellent sailing days in perfect weather. We had one close encounter (of the non-stressful kind) with a 1,003-foot laker . . . the sort of encounter that makes one appreciate AIS technology. One night we were able to attend a very nice potluck at Roys Point Marina, our home marina (where we own a slip but haven’t been based for more than five years).

One of the highlights had to be our sighting of the pretty ketch named Manitou all dressed up in her party clothes. As we met her near the marina where a friend keeps his yawl, we thought we were seeing Steve Lien and his lovely yawl, named with a nod to the Minneapolis area attraction: the Mall of America. His boat is the Yawl of America. As Steve singlehands his boat most of the time, we were amazed to see the main, jib, and mizzen sails swiftly doused for much more colorful replacements: a matching spinnaker and mizzen staysail. She was all dressed up for the dance and looked gorgeous.

We’ll send our photos to owners Bob and Katherine Jensen.

As we neared taking photos, we learned this was not the Yawl of America after all, but a ketch we’d never seen before, one with three crewmembers aboard to do the busy work required to lower three sails and raise two new ones. Her owners, Bob and Katherine Jensen, and a friend did a nice job of making it all look easy as she ghosted along in light wind.

They must have had a great ride as they floated down the West Channel for more than an hour under spinnaker and mizzen staysail.

Our time aboard ended all too soon. In fact, it ended two days earlier than we expected because some heavy weather and big winds were predicted. (We are also very grateful for the weather information available through WxWorx, the satellite weather service operated by Sirius Radio.) Rather than be late to arrive home, we took our opportunity before that weather was upon us and sailed toward Superior, Wisconsin, where Mystic will be hauled out for the winter at Barker’s Island Marina. That last passage is always a long one (between 8 and 12 hours) and — call us crazy — we prefer to do it whenever we can in settled conditions.

That last day was one of our memorable sailing days. So the month-long cruise ended on a high note. The predicted heavy weather did arrive in great force later that night and blew like crazy all the next day as we were emptying the boat and loading the car for our trip back home. We considered it our good fortune to be tied up at the dock following another just-in-time arrival.

The good old boats (and a few new ones) — just in Bayfield’s Port Superior and Pike’s Bay alone — are an impressive sight.

Dock walking, for example, is about as good as it gets in Lake Superior’s Apostle Islands. Until we visited Annapolis, in fact, we’d never seen a greater concentration of good old boats. We can’t help ourselves when walking docks. We want to identify every sailboat we see.

It becomes a challenge we can’t ignore. Cove stripes help. Little designer flourishes and specific identifying marks help, such as the taffrail on the Bayfields or the wishbone cat rig on the Nonsuches. Manufacturers’ plates help. Bold lettering helps (our thanks to all manufacturers who do that!). Logos help. Sometimes the mainsail cover provides clues.

Since our C&C 30 has an identifiable C&C cove stripe that it shares with every other C&C (and even, unfortunately, with the Vikings designed by C&C), we knew there was something to this cove stripe thing and concentrated our efforts on those. I started taking photos of the cove stripes as the bow and at the stern of as many good old boats as I could find. Then I posted those images — http://www.goodoldboat.com/resources_for_sailors/boat_identifiers — and other sailors chimed in sending photos of their boats’ cove stripes and helping to identify those we posted as “unknowns.”

It’s been fun. I always meant to add more as a part of our relentless dock walking, but haven’t had access to as many docks with boats until spending time this summer once again in Bayfield, Wisconsin. We’ll post our additions later this fall and hope to hear once more from other sailors who can identify the “unknowns” and post further rare or hard-to-find sailboats we’ve missed.

If we ever complete our “collection” of boat identifiers, as we call them on our website, we’ll still enjoy walking the docks with our printed out “code book” in hand. Seeing the modifications people have made and the designer variations that are possible from sailboat to sailboat is a delightful way to spend an afternoon ashore. We attend the real boat show, as far as we’re concerned, every time we walk the docks.

We’ve had some great sailing weather for the past several days! In addition, an extensive serenade by sandhill cranes in Madeline Island’s Big Bay has got to be the highlight for me. But I’ve also gloried in the wonder of loon calls and fishing boats trailing veils of seagulls.

If we can’t feed the wildlife, we joke, what is it that gulls know about fishing boats?

I’ve walked the squeaky sands of Julian Bay on Stockton Island. (Most call them the singing sands.) I’ve appreciated a lighthouse or two. It seems I’ll never tire of good sailing days, beach walks, fishing boats swarmed with gulls, lighthouses, and loons.

She’s a big girl for a small town like Bayfield, Wisconsin.

We were also thrilled by the arrival of the big cruising ship, Yorktown, at the tiny town of Bayfield, Wisconsin, and had a chance to fly our spinnaker for several hours one day, the longest we’ve ever had that sail out of the bag. So we’ve experienced wonderful events on several levels during phase two of our cruise.

Mystic flies her chute. Photo by Tom or Sandy Wells.

Buddy boating

The significant part of this report is that we spent five days sailing in companionship with friends. As loners who’ve never done this sort of thing before, we’re pleased to report that they’re still friends. Tom and Sandy Wells joined us from Saturday through Wednesday, chartering a Tartan 34 named Loon. Before we got underway as a parade of two boats, we spent an evening in the shelter of Rocky Island with Michael and Patty Facius, who were sailing their C&C 30, Callisto, over the weekend.

Michael Facius, Tom Wells, Jerry Powlas, Patty Facius, Sandy Wells, Karen Larson. Photo by Tom Wells.

As a newbie to buddy boating, I offer my preliminary postulations (nothing more than observations really).

1. You’re never alone.

This is good news some of the time. It’s also bad news some of the time. All things in boating come with advantages and disadvantages. Part of this is in the attitude.

2. You’re always racing.

Don’t deny it: whenever two boats are going in the same direction . . . The good news is that this lets you compare your boat’s ability to point and make improvements in sail trim.

3. The more buddies you have, the more complicated decision-making becomes.

Let’s face it: as captains of their own vessels, all sailors are leaders. This will create differences of opinions on just about any subject. The larger the number of sailors present and the wider range of opinions expressed, the more likely that nothing at all will be accomplished. (We got along famously as a foursome, but I can foresee the problems if we had been 6 or 8 or, Lord help us, 10.)

4. It is not necessary to sail within sight of each other compensating your speed to accommodate all sailboats involved.

See Corollary Number 2. You’ll all wind up at the agreed-upon anchorage in the end. Probably.

5. Someone will have whatever it is you’re missing aboard.

This is handy. Two heads are better than one and so on. Supplies, parts, and knowledge abound when there are more involved. If you absolutely need a lime in order to make Dark and Stormies, someone will have it aboard!

6. Many meals will be potluck affairs.

A community meal can make short work of whatever fresh foods must be eaten up soon.

7. You’ll learn some things about your own boat and other people’s boats as well.

Spending time in companionship with and aboard other boats gives you a much better idea of their advantages and disadvantages than you’ll ever have by walking the docks or looking at boats at anchor. See Corollary Number 1.

8. You may be encouraged to push the envelope.

Because there are others around who do things differently, you may be compelled to try some foods, activities, or sailing styles that you wouldn’t otherwise try.

9.  You’ll share some wonderful cruising memories (and possibly frightening experiences) together.

Having experiences in common draws people together. It contributes to bonding in ways that you might not expect.

Conclusion (just my two cents’ worth): good time was had by all.