After New Zealand
JJMoon Diary
Barry and Margaret Wilmshurst
Sun 7 Jun 2009 00:18
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It was a terrible wrench to leave New
Zealand. Not because it is a beautiful country, although it is. Not
because there are lots of interesting things to see (whisper it: there aren't
too many), but because the people are as friendly as it is possible to imagine,
particularly to Brits, and their laid back way of life is wonderfully
attractive. The Joneses, with whom so many of us Europeans strive to keep
up, have never emigrated to New Zealand and most people seem happy and contented
with a comfortable life free from raging ambition. Largely due to Mags'
social skills, and often arising from her attendance at St Paul's
church in Paihia, we made lots of good friends and enjoyed a varied and
interesting social life. For me, I think our experiences at the golf
club were typical of the country. Originally just to keep Mags company I
joined her in investigating the pleasures of golf and the facilities at the
Waitangi course. We took a lesson with the assistant pro. and were
encouraged to join his weekly "clinic". There were between
2 and 10 attendees each week, some beginners, others club members who
had been playing for some time. The cost was about £4 each and they would
lend us a club and 20 balls to practice with as often as we liked, free.
When we became confident enough to try a few nine-hole rounds (a full round
would have taken us all day!), the green fee was about £12 each and they let us
borrow a set of clubs and a trundler, again free of charge. Not only that
but the senior professional would select the clubs we preferred, load them on to
the trundlers for us and send us away with a cheery word. All for a couple
who were due to leave in a few weeks and would never become members of the
club. Of course, we tried to behave well and always let "real"
golfers through, but they never passed without a word of thanks and some
cheerful encouragement. I have to admit I thoroughly enjoyed myself.
I know practically nothing about golf elsewhere but I cannot imagine better
treatment at less cost.
Beautiful country; great people.
Mags says she could happily live there but I would not go that far. It is
a small country, population 4 million, and I would miss some of the
opportunities, the facilities and the "buzz" of the medium sized countries of
Europe. There is nowhere like Bath in New Zealand, or Wells, or Totnes, or
London. When sports-mad Kiwis are reminded that Twickenham holds 82,000
people, that 76,000 fans sit down at Old Trafford for every game their eyes
glaze over. However much I was enjoying myself during recent months I was
still as keen as mustard to read The Times on Line every day. But for
Brits with six months to spend there cannot be a more congenial haven and we
have spent two extremely happy seasons.
This year we sailed north with a
crew. We "caught ourselves unawares", as my mother might have said, having
been softened up by a nice French boy who was touting his skills round the
marina. When our good friends Garry and Maureen put in a word on
behalf of Garry's son we quickly agreed to meet him and, all being well,
give it a go. It worked out well. Clinton is a 36 year old pilot
with some time on his hands looking for adventure. We explained that we
took all possible steps to avoid adventure but I think in the event there was
enough incident to satisfy him. We enjoyed his company and really
appreciated the additional sleep at night and time to socialize during the
day.
 Our last view
of Opua wharf with our friends Maureen and Garry ready to wave
farewell.
The passage was much easier than last
year; we enjoyed light winds and had to motor a good deal. The new
reefing winch worked well - we didn't have to tail with our teeth - and
stood like a fine little stainless steel sculpture on the aft cabin top.
 Proudly stands our new winch.
However, we had our problems and plenty
to keep us on our toes. A few hours out of Opua I realised that the engine
was not charging the batteries through the large alternator. I started the
generator but after a few seconds it coughed and died. This was a
potential turn back situation - we need battery power to navigate through
the computer, make drinking water, and communicate with the outside world.
After considering the options I realised that I could charge the house batteries
by switching on the link to the engine start battery and charging the lot with
the smaller alternator. This worked fine and we would have proceeded with
confidence except that at about the same time the autopilot became temperamental
and we had to steer by hand throughout the first night. Boring. We
set up the wind-vane self-steering gear but this only works when there is a
sailing breeze, not under power. The autopilot's performance
improved as time went by and the fault became no more that
intermittent. We learned to live with it. We slowed down
deliberately during the last twenty-four hours while we enjoyed good sailing
winds and arrived at the pass just as dawn was breaking to light our way among
the islets and reefs within the lagoon. We tied up soon after the marina
office opened on Sunday morning , a little under seven days after leaving
Opua. We were reminded that if one loads the boat with wonderful
labour-saving electronics and electrical devices one must have back-up, and
back-ups for the back-up.
 Northward
Ho! Clinton at the wheel as we head to Noumea.
  Just 2 nice
photos as dawn breaks and we arrive inside the reef at the Passe de
Boulari.
Since we arrived in Noumea we have had
to install a new course computer, the brains behind the autopilot, and
a new alternator. Very expensive. Both items are probably
repairable, but not here and not in the time available. The fault in
the generator was traced to a broken wire. We are running out of time if
we want to get to Darwin in time to have a few days with Aussie friends
Ross and Sue before the start of the Sail Indonesia Rally on 18th
July.
So far we have been too busy to
enjoy Noumea to the full. In addition to the faults that arose on the way
we have disconnected and reconnected the diesel filler pipe (we found fuel
in the bilges during re-fuelling in Opua) and repaired a fault in one of the
winches. As I write a new technician is repairing one of the
fridges. The technicians arrive on board commendably promptly but they
never have good news. And things are very expensive in New
Caledonia. Now the forward holding tank or its pump is blocked.
Ugh!
It is not all bad. We have re-met
some old friends and are enjoying the warmer weather and the French
atmosphere. We were particularly pleased to bump into the owners of
Ocealys, Maurice and Sophie Conti, the heros of
the Timella rescue last October. I was able to shake their hands
and offer our congratulations as they filled in some further
details.
Now we are getting ready for something a
bit more challenging. To meet our schedule we must put some serious
miles beyond our wake so we are heading for Thursday Island in
the Torres Strait. This is the northernmost port of entry to Australia,
just north of Cape York, about 1,600 miles from here. It should take us
about two weeks so we can look on the last passage as a "shake down". Bob
McDavitt the weather guru has predicted a depression crossing New Caledonia next
Tuesday and Wednesday and has suggested we leave on Thursday 11th. In
spite of our anxiety to be under way I think we shall wait. From
Thursday Island we shall probably sail directly to Darwin, another 700 miles
away.
UPDATE: Friends who have visited
Opua will be glad to know that our local restaurant (see previous blog) has
enjoyed a partial recovery. The new signs have been torn down, the
original signs restored together with the old standards of cuisine and service,
albeit with a reduced menu. We enjoyed several good meals before we
left and wish the proprietors
every success.
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