We had a little burst of outdoor activity. Our kiwi friend Debs came to stay and we went up Mount Herbert. It required getting the hourly ferry service across Lyttelton harbour to the other side of the bay. It wasn’t until just before 10am. We had loads of time to get our act together but somehow we almost missed it.

It was a bit of a slog up across farmland to the highest point on the Banks Peninsula, rewarded by far reaching views and a cheese and pickle sandwich. I’m always amazed at how quickly I cool down and can get instantaneously chilly once the top is reached. That extra jacket and hat were needed even though the hill isn’t super high at 919m and it was a sunny-ish day.

We then headed down to Oamaru in a hire car. Dave had a dentist appointment there and we planned a few days away. There wasn’t a definitive plan, the weather would dictate. We had car camping stuff. Our thin £5 Aldi sleeping bags ruled out any camping but we had kit for staying in huts.

A fun time was had. A night with Rob and Kate, a night in the New Zealand Alpine hut just below Mount Cook village, a night and Twizel and some time in a hut above Ohau lake.

We climbed, (well I did one and then went for a walk up to the Tasman Glacier while Dave and Rob cracked on with some harder routes). Sebastopol Bluff sits just below the village at Mount Cook with great views upto snow capped peaks. The location is stunning, catches the sun and felt, at least to me, quite adventurous as it’s a while (years) since I shared a hanging belay.

The following day, Dave and I then took the hire car as far as we could along an off road track reducing the walk in towards the hut. It was all good until it wasn’t. The gravel track dropped down into a river bed. I hopped out to check the clearance underneath the vehicle as Dave inched forward. I glanced back and the car was on three wheels. At this point the excess damage charges on the hire car loomed large so we decided to park up and walk.

We cranked the fire up in the hut till it was good and warm. The four others there all had good quality down sleeping bags so likely had a very very warm night. Our Aldi specials did the job and we both had a warm night. Note to self. Bring down sleeping bags back to the boat from the UK when we next fly back.

The joy of steps. These are four words I’ve never previously considered joining together in a sentence. I said “hi’ to a woman as I walked into town in Lyttelton. She had just descended a set of concrete steps by the port. Beaming she said, “Hi, these steps are just brilliant, they’re lovely to walk down. In fact I’m going to go up and come down again”.

And off she went to repeat her descent, full of happiness and joy. That was the extent of our interaction. My usual random and often benign chitty chat conversations share a fine view or cracking weather. Steps. That was truely a first and I loved it. Later that day, curiosity got the better of me so I checked out the steps myself, and blow me, the riser – tread relationship was indeed perfect. Her words were truely spot on.

Grace’s photo made the local press in Oamaru. It must have been a slow news week. If I recall correctly the words said something akin to ‘she’s a beauty’. Well that’s kind but the dock where we were tied was a pig. Even on a quiet weather day there was surge coming in under the dock and Grace would ride backwards and forwards straining her lines. And I was somewhat paranoid about our shiny paintwork and wooden piles and grimy tyres. Even with fender boards it was bum clenching.

In the end we went to anchor opposite the entrance but muddy as the floor was, it was the ‘wrong type of mud’ and we couldn’t get the anchor to set. So we then anchored just off the moorings further into the harbour. The anchor was grand there but it was all a little tight with not enough swinging room so we ended picking up a mooring that the harbourmaster had told us wasn’t big enough for Grace. And we were fine as the wind had dropped by then.

So Oamaru was a bit of a kerfuffle. We did however catch up with our ping pong UK friends Rob, Kate and family who pinged back to the UK last August, planning on recreating a life there only to pong back to NZ in February. Apparently ping pong Brits are a thing here.

Rob came aboard and helped us sail about 45 miles down to Dunedin. Grace was flying in probably 30 knots by the time we came through narrows towards Port Chalmers. Can’t say exactly as our wind instruments arn’t currently working. Three reefs in the main and a well reefed headsail were all we had up. It was good fun and lovely to have Rob on board for the day.

Kate drove down to meet us but we couldn’t launch the dinghy for an hour as we waited for the wind to abate. The pub called. We had dinner. I had intensely glowing red cheeks.

The wind stayed high for a few days. Enough to tip the dinghy upside down. We went ashore for a walk and on our return, the dinghy was half on, half off the dock, the outboard submerged under the water. Arse. We rowed home and Dave worked on the engine the following day and managed to get it running.

And we rubbed shoulders with some You Tubers. We last saw Colin and his catamaran, Parlay Revival in Panama. They’d just been struck by lightening the day we saw them. We stopped by to say hi and blagged a cuppa. He’d managed to blag a go on one of the Sail GP boats that had been racing the previous weekend in Lyttelton. That’s what fame can do for you. He described it as incredible. I’m paraphrasing there.

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. 😀

On our last sail before departing Nelson to head south, the autopilot decided to neither pilot or demonstrate any auto features. Its symptoms included veering massively off course of it’s own wilful accord, showing the boat icon on the chart plotter screen 180 degrees the wrong way round and refusing to change between auto and standby mode. It appeared to be buggered. I’m expressing a mild version of dissatisfaction here.

Dave spent most of the following day trying to diagnose the fault. We went out on a sea trial and tried to recalibrate instruments by driving round in circles. I did question in my head whether this was actually a real thing to try and fix the problem or was it designed and written by an electronics engineer with a wry sense of humour. Really, you want me to go round in circles??!

Try as we could, it appeared our 20th century high end electronics had decided to retire themselves. We know they are at least that old as we have all the old paperwork on board. And we all know how much wires and electrons have changed in 24 years. Meaning ours certainly aren’t manufactured anymore and the company that make them, offer no help and support to maintain them.

However, there are techies out there reclaiming old parts, checking them and selling them on. Dave found one item in Wisconsin in the States and another in Denmark. Hopefully just what we need. While waiting for these items to jet themselves to NZ, we took ourselves back to the Abel Tasman Park and had a lovely time swimming and walking and enjoying what a fab place it is. It is a fab place. Believe me.

Entertainment, provided by Starlink, was logging in each day to see where our new – old electronics were in the world. The computer ‘box of brains’ went to Hawaii and Sydney before getting to Auckland. We have them here now and Dave fitted them this afternoon. Tomorrow we get to drive round in circles. Hopefully not ever decreasing one’s.

Our worldly possessions are diminishing. The car has gone. The bike rack has gone. The bikes have gone. A spare sail cover is ours no more. Must mean it’s time to say goodbye to Nelson and crack on with getting south. 

Nelson has been our base for the last year and we both really like the place. It’s held us very easily. Could six months here and six months somewhere else be in our future? 

We left Nelson a couple of days ago and are in a sweet bay called Wairangi on the edge of the Marlborough Sounds. Grace does have an addition though, a satellite dish. Our internet will come from Elon’s ‘Starlink’ trickery henceforth. We’ve resisted until now but know when we head south there will be no phone reception. We actually bought the equipment about a year ago as there was an early bird offer in town. It’s been waiting patiently in a box.

Our experience so far has been pretty impressive. Download an app, put the kit together press a few buttons, watch the dish orientate itself and bingo we have download speeds like we’ve never seen before. If you’re a techy bod, the numbers said 292Mbps. Internet from the sky. 

In order to mount the dish on the boat, rather than just having it perched on the deck, there some adjustments to be made, notably drilling a hole in the back of the dish to be able to disconnect the motor. Doesn’t seem right and proper drilling holes in your electronics. But having the dish fixed in a flat aspect means it’s much easier to mount and it uses less amps. Which always keeps Dave happy. 

We did squeeze in a fine day walk with friends before departing.  Mount Arthur sits in the Kahurangi National Park and bulges its way to 1,795m above sea level or 5,889ft if you like your units in old money.  All good walks finish at a pub with alcoholic beverages and bowls of chips. Marvellous.

As I type, we’re drying Grace out again against a couple of piles. We want a clean hull so Grace can slide through the water and make best speed and this is the cheapskate way of going about it. It’s a waiting game now till the water recedes enough so we can clean the hull.

Then we’ll be good to go. Whether we go east about or west about depends on the weather. Stewart Island is the goal and hopefully Fiordland too.  Ideally we’d like 3 to 4 good forgiving days to get westabout down to Milford Sound. 

And finally, here’s a sentence I may never ever have uttered previously. I have been accessorising. I desired new cushions to complement the new upholstery. They are gorgeous, frivolous in Dave’s opinion, totally unnecessary and I love them.  

WARNING. I’m starting this missive with a mini rant. Stop reading now if you’re easily offended.

It’s just swimming. Not “Wild Swimming”, a marketing invention to sell books or fancy ‘wild’ clothing or bespoke flip flops. Yes. Please go swimming in the sea or the river or the lake or your Aunty Madge’s pond at the bottom of her garden. Have a fab time. But, don’t give it an unnecessary moniker that merely adds a smugness. As the cliché says, It’s not big and it’s not clever. 

Rant over. On with the story. And yes Poirot, you have deduced what’s coming next. We’ve been swimming in the Maitai river for several evenings now. It’s been hot and humid so a dip and a splash in the evening has been most welcome. 

There are a couple of holes deep enough to swim in on the edge of town. They’re popular as they’re easily accessible with car parking and grassy areas. It appeals to my sense of what’s right and good and free about the world to see people having an enjoyable time by the river as the sun sets. I like it. 

Having driven up the Maitai valley for a walk earlier this week, I’d spotted a couple of other places in the river for a dip. It’s a few kilometres drive up a gravel road but the reward was worth it. We found a spot with its own natural slide and a pool plenty big enough to swim in. 

If you’ve never had the pleasure of watching Dave get into cold water, I can only sympathise with you. It’s an utter delight to see him squirm and grimace and creep deeper at a glacial speed. Yes, it’s probably a bit mean of me to write this. It does amuse me though and if you have a little bit of pleasure too imaging him tippy toeing squeaking ‘ah, ah, ah’, that’s all good. 

He was just fine when he got in and we plan to go back again tonight. I’ve got 30 minutes to finish writing this before we head off. A few boaty chores today. Dave whizzed up the mast to re-rivet the wind indicator as a particularly chubby bird had dislodged it. We cut some new clear plastic vinyl for the windows in the cockpit tent as the current ones have had their day in the sun, literally. A kind Frenchman gave us the ‘extruded Japanese plastic’ for nothing.  It’s a high end product so that’s a boon.

We’re gearing up to leave Nelson at the end of the month-ish and head down to Fiordland and Stewart Island. It’s pretty remote down there so we need to be in good shape before we depart. The ships biscuits need to be plentiful. 

It’s been a regulation Saturday here in Nelson Marina. 

• Get up.
• Drink tea. Drink more tea. 
• Cycle to my hill.
• Walk up hill in a sprightly fashion. Morning is good for this as it’s still pretty cool.
• Cycle to market and buy freshies for the week. Summer is here so plums, cherries, apricots, strawberries, raspberries are all crying buy me, buy me.  I’m delicious. They have a point. 
• Continue with sewing project. (Dave is rebuilding the hatch garage as we have had a leak.)
• Feel disappointed and frustrated with my level of sewing incompetence.
• Forgo tennis as I want to finish my project.
• Do finish. It’s a 6/10. Much effort but glitches, errors and imperfections abound.
• Head out together for an evening off road cycle ride. Much more fun than sewing.
• Come back and have to move the boat as the marina have erred in the berth they have given us. We decided to move this evening rather than leave it till tomorrow morning.
• Dave cooked veggie stir fry and we drank a couple of the free beers a fellow cruiser gave us (unnecessarily) in return for us lending him our car.
• It’s now 9.55pm and the day is almost complete. 

We have done a little day sailing recently and have decided the bottom end of Tasman Bay collects square waves. 

We’d committed to meeting some friends on New Years Eve up in the Sounds about 30 miles away from Nelson. It was one of the worst sails ever. The wind was maybe 20 -25 knots but the square waves lined themselves up at 4 to 5 second intervals with a vicious metronomic evil streak. We very nearly turned back but having Grace to live on when we arrived was a big incentive. I felt grim, green and ghastly. Far worse than any recent sailing ‘icky memories. 

I know the UK has been drowning recently and now it’s proper chilly. Summer has definitely arrived here in NZ. (Slight gloat). We went to the beach last night and it’s felt ‘reet summer-y’. A couple of bands were playing in the park, folk were still in the sea, the pub garden was full and I very happy to ride my bike there.

Some **** nicked my back wheel this week. We found a discarded wheel with a bald tyre and a flat tyre in bush a few hundred yards away. Reckon the perpetrator decided my wheel looked better than theirs and purloined it. Their wheel (which turns out is a better wheel than my original) fits okay. It’s a little bigger than mine so I have a knock off chopper now. Cost me a few dollars for a new inner tube and tyre and a bunch of irritation but it’s good to have wheels again. 

I am now on the look out for a bike with my old wheel on it. Mis Marple is on the case.

If you’re going on a 4 night, 5 day walk, how many tea bags do you need to pack? It’s not a joke where the punchline involves an Irishman or a priest or an Ayrshire duck. It’s a very serious contemplation when heading off into the bush / forest / hills for a leg stretch before Christmas.

The fantastic news to report is, I packed enough. We finished the Old Ghost Road yesterday, Christmas Eve. (Today is Christmas Day so make sure you have a good one please).(Update….It’s not anymore, time has ticked on, but I sincerely hope you had a good one.😀)  

It’s an 85 kilometre trail from Lyall to Seddonville, all either rediscovered or built afresh and finished in late 2015. This was a big gold mining area back in the late 1800’s and a long forgotten map from that era seemed to suggest there was a trail link over the tops and down a river between these two outposts. 

On investigation, meagre trail evidence for the first 8km’s had returned to the bush and after that, a massive clearing, construction and blasting job lay ahead. I find it hard to comprehend the motivation and determination of the small team of 4 volunteer guys who led the project, raised funds, worked with many interested parties, recruited volunteers, braved the weather and sandflies, built huts and bridges and stayed the course over 10 years to make it all happen. Hats off to you. A monumental effort with an amazing output. 

We avoided blisters, endured Hamish, the snorer in one of the huts, ate enough oats and pasta and rice for a month, had darned good weather with some stunning views, met a mix of folks and enjoyed scoffing the venison pie and hot chocolate when our friend Debs took us to a café on exiting the trail. 

Tramping, as this kind of walking is called in New Zealand, is very popular. Huts abound, some serviced, some not. It’s one of the welcome attractions here if you like getting out and about. Families will walk to a hut for a night then walk back the next day. Dads will bribe their kids to carry beer in for them. We know this to be true because we met a kiwi dad doing this very thing. 

Our friend Debs told us about a remote 30 day hike she did when the group got supplies dropped off by helicopter part way along their walk. That’s quite an undertaking. Kiwis are hardy people. 

The festive season has happened. 2024 is here. I’ve not written anything for a while but I have a couple of pieces almost ready to post. But here’s a stop gap post. With a few piccies.

Before Christmas we spent more time in the Able Tasman Park plus did some walking in the hills behind Nelson. I bought new boots in anticipation on a multi day walk and they needed testing.

There’s a walk I like to do at least 4 or 5 times a week here if we’re around Nelson. It’s my daily stomp. I cycle to the Botanical Park then walk up the hill to the Centre of New Zealand. It called the centre as that’s where the local area surveying started, not because it is the centre. It’s not far, but it’s all up. Till you turn round, duh! When I started walking in late October it took me 13 minutes and 45 seconds to the top. I timed myself the other day and it took 12 minutes 51 seconds. There was I admit a warm feeling of accomplishment. 

Stand by for more. And here’s wishing you, yes you, a totally fab and lovely 2024. 🍾🎂🍷⭐️☀️😀⛵️