Harmonie's Home - Whangarei, New Zealand
Harmonie
Don and Anne Myers
Sun 9 Nov 2008 09:52
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35:43.716S 174:20.053E
On November 1st, we left Parua Bay on a rising tide
and had no more trouble with mud bottom collisions and/or
instantaneous zero velocity. The incoming tide pushed us ten miles up the river
and just when our charts ran out of information (showing just a blob of
blue where the river was supposed to be and no depth information), the depth
sounder registered a mere one foot of water below the keel. We
motor-crawled along behind Lady Kay (we learned the 'let the boat with the
shallower keel go first' lesson well) and tried not to look at the depth meter
as we rounded two hairpin turns in the river - which by this time had
become more like a creek. We puttered through the second
turn and there it was, tiny Riverside Drive Marina unfolding before us.
Its brochure touts room for thirty boats in the water and another thirty on
land. We saw about fifteen boats in the water and thought it looked
pretty jammed. I called the marina on the radio while Don surveyed the
area for potential docking options. No one answered the radio, but a
guy acting like he owned the place (he does) was spotted waving his arms in a
big way on the main dock (there is only one). After a few more arm waves
and half-heard instructions, Don backed us in perfectly while I randomly threw
dock lines to the small crowd of boaters that had gathered around
the marina owner to help us in. Ok, the dock lines weren't really
thrown all that randomly, but docking always feels slightly circus-like,
especially in front of an audience.
Later that day when the six foot tide went out, we
realized just how snug we were in this tiny marina parked on the side of
this little creek-like river that turns into a mud puddle at low
tide. No complaints though - the owner is friendly, the charges
just what we were told they would be and the other boaters just as
friendly. There are several other American boats here, some whose owners
have been in New Zealand for several years. From what we've seen so far,
we can see why boaters might choose to stick around for a while - it's
relatively cheap, secure, usually good weather, friendly people and a
laundry room. What more could you ask for?
Lady Kay kept on going up the river another
half mile or so to the Whangarei Town Basin, where the waterfront has
recently been redeveloped into a pleasantly quaint collection of cafes, craft
shops and bars, completely jammed with boats tied to pilings, docks and each
other (and it isn't even high season yet). All very nice, see picture
1.
We've spent the past week getting the boat ready
for haul-out - cleaning, engine and generator maintenance, taking sails
off, packing, etc., etc. But we did take time out to watch the New Zealand
coverage of the US election. New Zealand had their own big election
yesterday (just four days after ours), but the media here seemed to enjoy
talking about the US election more. New Zealand news covered the US
election for at least five hours - broadcasting ABC and CNN news as well as
their own. In general, the New Zealanders seem happy with the outcome of
the US election. Not sure how they feel about the outcome of the New
Zealand election though. As far as Don and I are concerned....I'm trying
not to gloat while Don has been as gracious about McCain's loss as McCain
has. No complaints here.
We have had time to do a little bit of sightseeing
in and around Whangarei. Just yesterday I went on a walk with Michael and Jackie
into the forest nearby to see the mighty kauri tree. In picture 2 Jackie
and I are looking up at the kauri, which doesn't even come close
to fitting in the picture. We are standing on a walkway built about
forty feet above ground and still the kauri's branches can barely be seen above
us. The kauri is native to New Zealand and doesn't reach its full
height of hundreds of feet until it is thousands of years old. Back in the
1800's, the visiting westerners harvested the mighty kauri for timber.
Today the kauri trees are protected. This one seems happy about
that.
Picture 3 is the top of a tree fern taken
from the walkway forty feet up.
Oh, and I should mention that the taxi
driver Jackie, Michael and I had yesterday looked like Tiny's larger,
older, Maori cousin. Maybe even a much larger, older, Maori cousin from
what I could see of the belly sticking out from under his shirt.
The first thing he said to us after determining where we wanted to go was, 'Will
you sing me a song??' lots of laughing. 'I always ask everyone
that. I've been driving taxis for sixteen years and I think people should
be happier and sing songs.' more giggles, the taxi swerves slightly to the
right. 'I pick up this judge from the airport all the time and he gets in
the car and starts looking at files and papers and all that stuff. I say
to him, 'What's with the papers? Leave them for the office. For now
sing me a song.' more snickers, the taxi slows down and swerves slightly to the
left. 'And one time he did. The judge sang me a song.' big laugh,
the taxi speeds up and straightens out. Good advice we thought - singing
vs. dealing with papers.
On Thursday afternoon, Ray the marina man stopped
by to say they decided to haul our boat that very afternoon instead of
Friday. Mild panic. Don was in town buying boat things
and since we live in a world where we don't each have cell phones (why
bother? we are always together - scary, but true), there was no way to
call him. Over the next hour, Ray the marina man stopped by five times to
see if Don was back yet. I envisioned piloting the boat into the haul out
dock by myself. Then I envisioned disaster. Then I stuck my head out
the cabin doorway every three minutes or so to scan the immediate area for
signs of Don. Then Don showed up. The immediate panic dissipated,
but a new panic associated with general apprehension related to overall boat
hauling set in. Good thing we had to rush. That way the new panic
never had a chance to reach uncontrollable body shaking, heart palpitation
level. Don backed us into the haul out dock perfectly while I stood around
dumbly with no lines to randomly throw (not needed). Ray the marina man's
son and equally young buddy were the haul-out team. They probably were not
all that young, but certainly seemed so as our floating home began to
levitate. Imagine watching your home, chuck full of all your worldly
belongings, being lifted six feet in the air, swinging, lurching, swaying,
tilting. Strange noises coming from the device doing the lifting - chains
grinding, Kevlar straps squeaking, groaning. Don silent. The marina
man's son confident and smiling. His pal directing him with casual hand
movements - to the right, left, bow up, down, perfect. Harmonie hanging in
the balance. Don silent. Me taking pictures as a cover for panic
associated with general apprehension related to overall boat hauling. The
boat is up, the travel lift rolls so the boat is now hanging only a foot or so
above solid ground. Not too bad.
The haul out guys power washed some of the
gunk off the boat as it quietly swayed. Then we remembered that we
had forgotten to fill up with fuel before hauling the boat out.
Oops. 'No worries!' said the haul out guys. We'll just roll the boat
out over the water so the fuel hose will reach and you can go up there and fill
her up! Don was elected to climb a ladder up onto the swinging boat,
ride the boat while the haul out guys rolled it back out over the
water (picture 4), haul up the fuel hose and fill up the tank. Twenty
minutes later, the fuel hose came down, the boat was rolled back over land
(phew!), the ladder brought, and Don removed. Panic associated with
general apprehension related to overall boat hauling somewhat
subsided.
The haul out guys then maneuvered the suspended
boat through the tiny boat yard to Harmonie's waiting resting place right next
to her sister, fellow Amel Super Maramu Lorna, from Sweden (picture 5).
After more maneuvering by the haul out guys, the boat was placed in its cradle,
shifted slightly this way and that to ensure it was level, and the travel lift
removed. Haul out done. No disasters. Panic associated with
general apprehension related to overall boat hauling fully subsided. Don
took a breath.
Yesterday, while I was taking pictures of the tops
of tree ferns, Don was scraping the residual gunk off our waterline with a
little bit of help from some acid. He filled me in when I got back.
'I think the black stuff is from the Panama canal, then the brown stuff is from
the oil in Ecuador, then the green stuff grew on top of the brown stuff.'
A multi-colored collection of sludge picked up over time in exotic places
to form a general crud collage around the water line. Nice. At
any rate, it was gone by the time I got back from kauri tree viewing, making the
boat look a little more like itself again. Picture 6 is Harmonie in its
new home with clean water line, but badly in need of some new bottom
paint. All in good time...we'll take care of it when we get back in late
February.
Speaking of leaving...The bags are packed, the food
cleaned out, the refrigeration shut down, good-byes said to Michael and Jackie
over an excellent dinner (we'll see them when we come back), the curtains
closed, the hatch covers set up, the sun cover folded and stowed, the
bathrooms clean, the power shut down, the batteries disconnected, the hatch
closed, the boat locked.
Yes, it's true we are going home to see
everyone we have missed seeing for more than a year, but at the same time we
can't help feeling like we are leaving home.
Anne |
