End of May is a bit late in the season to start crossing the deep Southern Ocean on the long journey to British Columbia. But sometimes that's how it is. We cleared from New Zealand with clear skies and no wind. At the heads of Whangarei we drifted the whole day on mirror water. Large schools of fairy penguins were about and we watched them playing and hunting. I just love the sound they make. Sundown a thought of wind filled the sails lightly, sometimes. Came dawn the next morn, we could still see the coast. During day two, the winds became steady and MYLADY flew. All the work skipper has done on her underwatership is visible. Day three, lovely. By late afternoon the wind was gone. With suspicion skipper paraded in the cockpit, snifing the air. On the weather map we seemed to be borderliners - not belonging to any of the high or low pressure systems around us. Skipper decided we should stow the used spinnaker pole. Whilst on deck with this job the wind sprung up from another direction. Unbelievable but during a count of ten its force was a dissasterous 40 knots. I finished the job on deck while skipper went to try and steer MYLADY. Fortunately the genoa was furled away and the mainsail already with a double reef. Bounching seas shook us around in pouring rain. The boom came over in a crashing gype. Flew back and crash gype again, smashing its travel stops open and took the travelrunner with it, trailing all this valuables at the end of the main sheet in the sea next to the boat. We were both outside and in danger zone but thank God, were spared the feared, neck-braking hit. Forecasted only more headwinds, lows and blows. Recollecting ourselves afterwards in the cockpit we wondered how can we be like our friends Valhalla, contentedly pottering about? One answer is - go downwind - not against. We turned MYLADY on a new course - towards hopefully an easier life - and in search of a homeground where also we may potter around.
