Tuesday, May 14, 2013

Whale POO


The gale was whipping the waters white with foam when we went anchor up midday in New Zealand. The neighbour yachties were all 

on their boats, watching.  We motored out of the port of Opua and then rolled out half of the furling genoa. The gale subsided slowly 

but surely.  Apart from the tall ship Tucker Tomson who had a youth school class on board, we were the only boat out there. Just 

before dark, the yacht Mizar which was going the same direction, passed us. The voyage was good. There was a big high spreading all 

over our sailing grounds and we had light, little or no wind for days. We enjoyed it. An unexpected storm got us in a tight knot, but it 

blew over quick enough. Light winds again but all from a good direction. Then a low popped up, just on top of us. We were two days from reaching our destination. But the low was apparently going to interfere with head winds the last part of our trip. So we decided to sail with the low, round the bottom and up the west side of it, where the winds would be the good direction. 

Unfortunately for us, the low stalled and grew and grew and went a different direction. It pulled us into its hell hole and gave us the ride of our lives. 

Needless to say, my prayer-line to heaven was non-stop open and we received blessings untold. We arrived in Tonga 17 days after leaving New Zealand all in one piece. Just the nameflap on starboard side got a torn in one corner.