It was now just after the autumnal equinox in New Zealand (March 22nd). At 44 degrees south, the hours of daylight were becoming noticeably shorter each day, the nights were getting colder and even during the day, the air had a certain bite to it. Wearing a fleece, even during the day, was not uncommon now.
We enjoy sleeping when the boat is cool at night, so we left the heat off and the inside temperature would drift down to around 50 degrees. The first item of business in the morning, however, was for me to scurry to the electrical panel to turn on the Kabola boiler and heater fans to warm the boat and provide hot water for that wake up shower.
It was all in all preparation for Stuart Island which lies at 50 degrees south. Joe and I had been watching the weather. The more or less constant procession of gales down south had abated as a very large, stable and slow moving high pressure system moved in over the Tasman. The forecasts suggested it would remain in place for some time to come so it was our decision time. Head for Stuart now or back track. With a favorable weather window, our decision was to go. Steaming time to Stuart from Akaroa was calculated to be around 30 hours at a conservative 9 knots to allow for exiting Akaroa harbor, entering Half Moon Bay at Stuart along with some allowance for adverse current enroute.
Our target arrival time at Stuart was noon. Our logic was that if we made better time, we would still arrive around dawn and if things were against us, we would still make safe harbor before dark. This meant a 0600 departure form Akaroa. To expedite things, Joe and I made ready for sea the night before. The dinghy was brought aboard and secured, the decks were cleared (almost), and the jacklines installed, all the hatches were secured, the awnings stowed, the interior made ready by putting things away and latching all the cabinets and, finally, all the engine room checks were performed. The only items left for morning were to fire the electronics and the engine and get underway.
At 0530, Joe and I were up. We decided to run from the fly bridge. While there was no moon, our night vision was still significantly better from there and the Furuno multifunction display provided us with radar and electronic chart displays should we need them. We were cautious as we exited the harbor as a New Zealand Navy patrol ship had anchored nearby late the following evening and there were several shoal areas that also needed to be avoided.
One of Joe’s friends was aboard the patrol boat and they had talked by cell the night before. The boat had been sent to Stuart and the Foveaux Straight to search for survivors from a lost vessel. None were found and the search effort had been discontinued. Against the Harbor Master’s wishes and the advice of experienced locals, a commercial cray boat had left Half Moon Bay stacked high with cray pots, cargo and passengers in gale conditions. She went down in an area known for its overfalls and 7 souls were lost. Tragic ending to a bad decision.
As the sun came up for us, we were reaching the mouth of the harbor and Deb appeared with hot steaming mugs of coffee. None to soon as Joe and I were both about frozen from the cold night air. With daylight and being clear of the harbor, we all retired to the warmth of the salon.
The trip south was happily benign. It was, however, the scene of the great Herbageddon (or Plant Requiem in one of our our prior posts). While Joe and I had prepared the boat for most eventualities before going, the dirt, sludge and debris of the potted plants got unbearable even though they were on the back deck – hence their departure overboard much to Debby’s dismay. (I think I hear Taps again).
Outside of the plants demise, our timing was impeccable and we made Half Moon Bay just before noon – glad the conditions were nice as the reefs and rocks could have been formidable in worse conditions.
This is Ackers Point Light marking the entrance to Half Moon Bay. It also marks a dangerous offshore barely submerged rock with sector lighting.
Once safely in the bay, we had an anchor adventure, but more about that next time.