M/Y Iron Lady

Taking the advice of our cruising guide, with another day of good weather we stayed on in Half Moon Bay while things remained placid. On our first day, we stopped by the local information center in Oban and planned a day of exploration around Oban that included renting a car, touring on all of Stewart Islands 20 odd kilometers of road (roughly 10 of which were off limits) as well as doing several walks in the area.

On arriving at the information center, we were advised that the fare for renting our car was around 65 Kiwi (roughly 50 US) including the gas. As an aside, we found car rentals to be uniformly reasonable thru out New Zealand (excluding gas which hovered around US $8.00 per gallon). The formalities completed, we were directed to go outside and find the “Rat”.

Seems the Possum, Ferret and Weasel had already been taken (and I am serious). Our first destination was Ackers Point – keeping an eye out for errant penguins of course.

Here are a few shots along the way.

The walking trail out to Ackers Point light was about 1 hour return (Kiwi for 1 hour round trip).

Ackers Point was named after a Lewis Ackers – a boat builder by trade who settled here in the early 1800’s with his Maori wife.

He built this small stone cottage where he and his wife had and raised 9 children.

Given the cramped conditions, it would be interesting to know how they managed to cram 11 people into this small house (much less have the privacy to conceive 9 children).

Here are some additional views on the way out to the point.

The area is also part of the annual migration route of the Sooty Shearwater – a remarkable bird now in decline that completes a remarkable circumnavigation of the Pacific. Also known as Mutton Birds – the Maoris harvest the young as a food source.

From there, we took the Ratmobile onward to the track to Lee Bay – a walk of some 2.5 hours return.

Stewart, according to an ancient Maori legend is also known as Te Puka a Maui – anchor to Te Waka o Aoraki (the great ancestral canoe) and the Maori name for the South Island. A plague and stylized anchor chain commemorate this at the beginning of the track to Lee Bay.

The following are shots along the track.

Along the way we spotted this fellow – a monstrous seal who was throwing around an equally monstrous fish that he had caught.

Some of the other locals.

And some shots of the tidal creek at Lee Bay.

Some beautiful wild flowers along the track.

After a good day of hiking, we headed back to the hotel in Oban for a wonderful cup of chowder and world famous fresh Bluff Oysters from the Foveaux Straight – best (and largest) oysters I have ever had. With the Rat safely back in its nest, we headed out to Iron Lady for the night and an early departure to Patterson Inlet the next morning.

Once we had the anchor adventure sorted it was time to head to town.

Our cruising guide to Stewart Island by the Mana Cruising Club strongly recommends that you complete your affairs in Oban and head for more protected waters as soon as possible. Half Moon Bay is exposed to the weather and would be no place to be in a blow.

The population of Stewart Island is concentrated in Oban and numbers something under 500 people. The center of town sports a 4 Square grocery, the Hotel and local watering hole, the visitors center and a small museum which looked interesting but was closed.

We stopped by the visitors center and rented a car for the next day to tour all of Stuarts 10 miles of roads – about half of which you are permitted to take the rental car on. The rest of Stewart is accessible only by boat.

Then it was back to the boat to grab the fishing gear as we had a hankering for blue cod for dinner. Joe and I headed just outside Half Moon and dropped the anchor on Beer Can and it took only a few minutes to pick up dinner. There is a “slot” limit on blue cod and we tried to comply, but the locals promptly finished off anything that we tried to throw back in (with a vengeance and much squawking and squabbling).

Meanwhile, back at the ranch (I mean boat), Deb was preparing for a feast while we (I mean Joe) cleaned up the fish.

The Kiwis have a really great smoker that users denatured alcohol and wood chips to smoke things in around 30 minutes. Some of our blue cod went into the smoker with Manuka wood chips (even better then mesquite).

So to commemorate our voyage to almost 50 south, we had smoked blue cod, pan sautéed blue cod in Panko break crumbs, sautéed zucchini and onions, and roasted kumara (I have no idea why we can’t get it here in the US as it is FAR better then potato or sweet potato). And, oh yes, a bit of nice red wine. (That red wine in the background must have been left over – right?)

The good ship Iron Lady and crew slept well after a very long but good day.

Next post will be on our Rent-a-Rat adventure.

In my flying days, we used to have a saying that the most dangerous time to climb into my F33 Bonanza was just after somebody else worked on it. That is one reason that my good friend, who was a certified A and P guy, and I did our own annual inspections and most of the work on the plane.

The wisdom of this was brought home to me on one particular occasion when I had flown to Columbus to have some avionics work done. When the work was complete, a friend flew me back to Columbus, I tested the avionics and found them to be in order and got my clearances to head back to Pittsburgh. Shortly after take off, the cockpit filled with smoke along with an intense electrical smell. A fire in flight is a certain death sentence. I quickly shut off everything electrical except one radio, contacted Columbus tower, declared an emergency and requested immediate permission to land. They gave me permission to land down wind (not a problem on a 10000 foot runway) and scrambled the fire brigade. Long story short, the smoke dissipated with the electrics shut down and I made a normal landing. Back at the avionics repair facility, it was determined that someone had gotten too ambitious with the solvent used to clean the circuit boards and the latent solvent had boiled off as the electronics heated up.

At the end of last year, I asked Ian (our Captain) to pull all the chain out of the chain locker on Iron Lady, make sure all the twists and kinks that accumulate over the course of a cruising season were out, re-stow it and secure the bitter end with a short length of line. I have always done this so the line could be cut and the chain dumped overboard in the event of an emergency – much easier to cut thru a bit of line then high strength chain.

I never inspected the work and, unknown to me, Ian had used a 10 foot piece of Spectra to secure the bitter end. Two problems with this. The first being that Spectra line is most difficult to cut which defeats the purpose of being able to easily cut the line in an emergency. The second being that 10 feet of line is way too much and the line becomes tangled up in the chain.

When we anchored in Half Moon Bay off Oban in Stuart, the holding was not the best so we put out extra chain. Enough extra that the Spectra line was dragged up with the chain and lodged in the hawse pipe and windlass effectively jamming everything. We could neither let out or bring in the chain.

The exercise to clear things involved securing the chain after the windlass so nobody would lose their fingers, removing the pipe that feeds the chain from the chain locker to the windlass, using the other foredeck windlass to generate enough slack in the chain to remove it from the chain gypsy, gradually free the line working on it from both above and below decks and when we finally had enough freedom on the chain, put the chain back on the gypsy and jog it slowly to feed out the remainder of the jammed line.

This could have been fairly serious if the anchor had not held during the time it took to clear things. Fortunately, it did.

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.

Another resource we found throughout NZ that is worth mentioning is their tourist information kiosks known as i-sites. We found them to be a great local resource of information, maps, brochures and activities. Akaroa was no exception and the i-site was located just up the street from the dinghy dock. We asked if there was someone who could take us around and give us a tour of the region beyond the town. A few quick phone calls and we were hooked up with Rosey – a walking local encyclopedia and tour guide.

Our first destination was Purple Peak – the highest point locally.

While we didn’t make the trek to the top, we did hike around the area and met some of the locals.

As we toured, Rosey would talk about the history of the area as well as stop at some of the most scenic overlooks.

This idyllic valley had a good bit of history behind it. In earlier times it was home to a Maori village. Seems some unscrupulous merchant traders traded them a leaky and decrepit boat for Maori items of value. Some of the villagers took the boat to sea and the boat sank – all those on board were lost. The remaining villagers put a curse on this valley and left. Rosey said that the Maoris are reluctant to come here even today.

Finally, some views looking back down on Akaroa and the harbor.

(And Iron Lady sitting at anchor – always have to try and fit one shot of her in)