DECEMBER 09 We left NZ in sunshine and light winds against us on 10 December. It took us thirty six hours to round Cape Reinga. Then we aimed for OZ between the Cape and the islands. Wrong decision. The current pushed us back to shore. Whatever little wind there was, was not enough to pull us safely through. The islands magnetic force was immense. We altered course back the north in and the next twenty four hours we snail-sailed an almost circumnavigation of Three Kings Islands.
When I got up Sunday morning 13 December, it was still - great powerful stillness. And it is not so often, in fact - seldom, quiet at sea. It was just before sunrise. Crimson, golden, gray and blue hues mingled with a few horizontal silvery striped streaks of cloud. There was not a thought of wind. The water was swaying without making a ripple. I drenched my soul with the spirit of the moment.
The sun came out with the Three Kings Islands looking kind-of-familiar from the other side. Softly the water started babbling like hearing a tiny stream in a short distance. The murmuring chime of water music sounded cathedral in this great stillness. A little later very light winds arrived at us and with that, the regular noise surrounding us in our daily lives, started. MYLADY began to creak and crackle as she moved in rhythm with the water and wind.
We had time to go on a creature safari. White button mushrooms drifted by. A flock of coin-sized see-through white circled jellyfish joined the parade passing MYLADY. Camera in hand we started our safari-watch. Needless to say, if the targets were not out of reach they were either too early or too late for the click of the shutter or on the other side of the boat. Rays of sun sparkled on the rainbow plankton in the water.
It was also a good day, being so calm, to take out half of the stitches on Eelco's chest. He was so nervous, but survived it. The other five stitches we left two days longer and were more difficult to remove on a then bouncing MYLADY. It ended well. The migraine I had must have been evoked by the threat of the atomic looking rain clouds with squalls from the previous night. The new tactic I'm using for my seasickness seems to work.
One afternoon, a pod of bottlenose dolphins speedily turned the sea surface white while dining. In their wake the seabirds gathered and waited patiently for any food scraps from the hunt. Last night again I listened inside the boat to the singing of the dolphins as they rode with us for a while. As yet we have not seen as many birds as we did when going to New Zealand in September.
We have been more than a week now at sea, goofing around here in the Tasman ditch. At first we rode the top of a high with gentle winds. Then we followed its tail-end and are making a big circle downwards to try and catch the top of the next high. Life is almost perfect as we sail along.
Take care.
S/V MYLADY : Home - somewhere on the oceans, where the wind is free.
