Trickster. The description could be assigned to me at the Akaroa Yacht Club. But thankfully there were just smiles and laughs…..I think. 

We are in Akaroa after an enjoyable time in Lyttelton and Christchurch. Lots of walking and exploring. We met up with Chris, a friend from Derbyshire, who now splits his time between Mongolia, China and Bali. We had about 20 years of catching up to get though over an evening chat in a Christchurch bar. It was fab to see him and sad to see him turn left to his hotel as we turned right to go to the bus stop. Till next time special chum.

Another celebration was happening back in the UK. My big sister won the competition of getting to 60 first. We weren’t in the country so couldn’t raise a glass in person. Many happy returns sis. Thanks for the photos. One here of you with a beverage.

Our 40-mile trip from Lyttelton to Akaroa was a wildlife extravaganza. We had hector dolphins with us pretty much the whole way south. And seals pretending to be dolphins. Plus an albatross gliding around the boat. I caught a fish so dinner was taken care of. The Banks Peninsula is a stunning bit of coastline with high rock faces and deep valleys formed by volcanos 8 to 12 millions of years ago.  In bad weather it would be brutal. 

Some history. Akaroa is a small tourist town with Gallic overtones. French settlers arrived here in 1840 and founded the settlement. But the Brits got a bit concerned and quickly signed the Treaty of Waitangi, an agreement between the British Crown and Māori chiefs. As I mentioned earlier the French influence is still evident today across the restaurants and shops. I will also point out that the French did beat England by one point at rugby on Saturday.  Dave was gutted.

Walking round the hills that surround the inlet and town, it looks remarkably similar to the Lake District in the UK. We took the trail to find the rhino on the hill and set out with good intentions to walk the ridge line taking in Misty Peak. The clue however was in the name and as a rain shower rolled in, the peak and ridge disappeared. We decided to retreat as the view would have been non existent. And that was the reason for going there. 

Akaroa Yacht Club have a number of moorings so we picked one up. They are the equivalent of £5 a night, money which goes to help support the club. We went in to surrender our dosh on Sunday afternoon. The bar was open and about 20 people were around post racing, having a beer and a sausage sandwich.

We chatted to a local doctor who occasionally worked as an expedition doctor on ships going down to Antarctica. Frank Worsley, captain of Endeavour, Shackleton’s ship was born in Akaroa so the town has strong links to the continent. The doc was fun to chat to and during the chat we were cajoled into buying a ticket for the meat raffle. This meant picking a number between 1 and 99.  I went for 42. After all it is the answer to life, the universe and everything.

A bag with numbered balls was then thrust towards me as a visiting guest. Just pick a number. So I did. 55. It hadn’t been sold. Go again. 42. I had this feeling it was going to happen and so it did. I don’t think I’m a trickster but we do have lamb steaks for tea. 

In the space of a few days we transited a few of New Zealand’s maritime hotspots. French Pass, Alligator Head, Cape Lambert, Cape Jackson, Cape Koamuru, the Cook Strait and Cape Campbell. If you’re a boatie bod look them up. They all have their own reputations. We read evocative words as part of our passage planning.  “Strong tides, whirlpools and dragons live here”. “It could be the second windiest place in New Zealand”. 

A couple we chatted to in passing said, “Oh we got knocked flat going round Cape Jackson”. 

We saw no dragons. Was I little disappointed? We must have got our sums and times right this time. Slack tide is your friend. Avoid the wind over tide shenanigans. French Pass was quiet. We took the inside passage through Cape Jackson between the headland and the lighthouse. We had a few hundred meters of bouncy-ness and could easily imagine how truly hideous it could be in strong winds. 

Then it was a fast run down the Cook Strait with just the headsail up. Wind and tide behind us. 

Today finds me in the library in Lyttelton, a slightly kooky (in a good way) place, a 20 minute bus ride from Christchurch. Lyttelton is surrounded by hills which provide fine walking and great views. I know, I’ve been up there. 

We had a city day, learning about the earthquakes in 2010 and 2011. I didn’t know about liquefaction. (It’s a process whereby the shaking of the earthquake causes the soil to behave more like a liquid than a solid.)  Watching footage of individual personal stories was powerful. 

We spent the afternoon wandering around the botanic gardens which are just lovely. In the UK you’d have to pay to be in such a space. Not so here, a great asset to be enjoyed by all. 

Tomorrow we are meeting a friend in Christchurch who we knew in Derbyshire but haven’t seen him for many years. He moved to Mongolia and we think he lives with his family in Beijing now. We’re very much looking forward to seeing you Chris. 😀