February 8, 2022 (a couple of weeks ago)
Before leaving Tauranga, we’d had a discussion about where we’d go next. With Whitianga not an option, the next closest possibility would be to do some cruising around Great Mercury and Great Barrier islands. Rich was amenable to the idea, but I was not. This was yet another area that, wonderful as it is, I was just feeling done with. After our recent stop at Great Mercury Island’s Hururi Bay, I didn’t feel like going back there. I told Rich I just wanted to head straight back towards the Hauraki Gulf, with no stopping at either Great Mercury or Great Barrier.
Friends, we went to Great Mercury and Great Barrier. Our plan was actually to stop at an anchorage at the top of the Coromandel Peninsula, Port Jackson, which I’ve always wanted to do but the weather is never right. Looking at the weather forecast from Tauranga, it looked do-able. But we also decided if conditions didn’t look good, we could continue on Colville Bay a few miles further, or to Waiheke Island and arrive around midnight. Plan A, B, and C all set! (God was probably having a good laugh at this point!)
Although we set out under overcast skies, the conditions were perfect in some ways. The wind was on a broad reach, 13 to 15 knots dropping as the afternoon went on. There were visible squalls, but only with misty rain and not much wind. The one condition that was far from perfect was the sea state. Not only had the squalls made the seas rather lumpy and confused, we also had meter-high swells with a short period between them, right on our beam. It was a reminder of just how important it is to take the sea state into account when looking at the wind forecast. We knew what the numbers would be, but we were still surprised at how uncomfortable this ride was. And we had just enough of that misty rain to keep things damp and cold, adding to the misery of this trip.
As the afternoon went on and things didn’t get better, Rich was thinking this swell would probably be wrapping around and into our destination anchorage, Port Jackson. Most likely, we’d have to continue past to Colville Bay. I hoped that making the turn to go over the peninsula would make the swell more comfortable, but I now had to wonder—would we be able to stop at Great Mercury for the night and have agreeable enough weather to continue this trip tomorrow? Rich was already looking into that possibility. We’d have higher winds the next day, but they’d be from behind us and the seas would be better. We decided to make a final decision as we neared the island.
I went below for Rich’s watch and fell into a deep sleep, surprising in that conditions got pretty rough for awhile. When I woke up, things felt so much calmer. I went outside into what looked like a dream world. The sky was overcast with low clouds and scattered rainy areas, the seas were relatively calm, and we were surrounded by so many little islands. Rich told me we were now among the Mercury Islands and they were providing protection from the seas. I don’t know if it was the low-cloud weather altering the usual view, but this area looked like nothing I had seen before in my life. Rich agreed. We’ve made several trips between Great Mercury and Tauranga and didn’t remember it ever looking like this. It was bizarre, like reality had shifted. Even stranger, this looked so much like dream I had years ago, a dream so wonderful I still remember it. Maybe this was a good omen.
We now considered our options. Soon we’d be heading out of the protective effect of these islands, but we’d be turning and putting the swells behind us. Suddenly, we got smacked by a surprise big swell that snuck up on us. Decision made: we would stop for the night and give ourselves a break.
With that, I had an idea. We were looking at a week of nasty weather ahead of us, including a direct hit from the remnants of a tropical cyclone heading our way. We planned to take refuge in various anchorages in the Hauraki Gulf islands, but now it occurred to me that Port Fitzroy, a well protected harbor at Great Barrier Island, would make finding a suitable storm anchorage an easier task.
So I said to Rich, “I have an idea; maybe we should go to Great Barrier.” Rich responded by staring at me as though deciding whether to have me committed or toss me off the boat himself. After all, I’d gone from refusing to go to suggesting it as though it were my own new and interesting idea. In my defense, though, I had said no to recreational cruising there, but now I was looking at it as a storm refuge. After recovering from my sudden turnaround, Rich instantly agreed. We could now stay at Great Mercury a night or two then head to Great Barrier, a much shorter trip than going to the Haruaki Gulf.
We could smell Great Mercury as we approached it, a wonderful smell of a New Zealand forest and dried grass. It was so calm as we got in the lee of the island I was able to make dinner as we headed in (we’d barely eaten today in the rough conditions), having it ready for us after we dropped our anchor.
As we got in sight of our favorite anchorage, Parapara Bay, we were surprised and delighted to see it was completely empty! It seems the weather forecast had sent people home. We had a squall pass over us as we anchored, a final blast of wet misty rain, before heading below, getting out of our foul weather gear, and relaxing while enjoying our chili-and-rice dinner and an episode of Broadchurch (our current TV show).
We could later hear the wind gusts outside, but the bay remained calm. Later when I stepped out into the cockpit I was met with an impressive chorus of chirping crickets! I love this sound but don’t often hear it in New Zealand, so what a nice surprise, especially since it was actually louder than the wind.
After a sound sleep, we woke the next morning and checked weather. It turned out we could spend another day here, then have good weather to get to Great Barrier in time to find a place in which to ride out the coming cyclone remnants.
This was good news because I was able to sit outside off and on during the day. The clouds were low, but the day got lighter as it went on. Oh my goodness I had forgotten how beautiful this bay is! When we talked about coming here, I’d said “No” to the idea of a busy anchorage or worse, a make-do bay, and the mild depression that comes after losing the sense of wonder for a place. But these issues weren’t a problem now! In spite of, or maybe even because of, the cloudy skies, combined with the isolation of having this to ourselves, this bay felt enchanted.
We were surrounded by golden grassy hills, thick batches of pohutukawa trees, and low cliffs that dipped down to a white sand beach at the head of the bay. The bay itself felt so peaceful, and well protected from wind that we could sometimes hear but could hardly feel. What we could hear was birdsong and the buzzing of cicadas during the day, and at night, those crickets! The water around us was calm and had as many sea birds as I’ve seen an any given place. Gannets in particular were a standout, diving into the water around our boat to catch fish, then preening themselves before taking off for another round. (Below, a few photos from this cloudy but lovely day; click on any photo to enlarge.)
What stood out overall here was a feeling of peace and beauty. Did I say I didn’t want to come back here? Now I felt like I could stay here forever. Tomorrow, alas, we’d be moving on. –Cyndi
