A life on the ocean waves

Heading ashore in the dinghy in Oneroa Bay, Waiheke Island Brow furrowed over my supplies spreadsheet, I pause to ask Angus if he thinks that 12 sheets of loo paper per person per day will be about right.   He sighs and tells me I have asked this loads of times; he doesn’t know, but surely I must know the answer by now.   I don’t, but let’s be honest, I’m sure they sell loo roll in the South Pacific Islands, so it’s no big drama if we need to re-stock.   I’m not so sure they’ll have 1kg bags of powdered milk, each of which makes 8 litres, or 1l vats of factor 50 suncream, so those calculations are perhaps more crucial.   We are in the process of “stocking up” for six months in “the Islands” as they are affectionately known here; Tonga, Fiji, Vanuatu and New Caledonia.   Obviously, we will be close to land for much of that time, and we can visit the big islands for supplies, but many of the small islands don’t have any people, let alone shops, so it’ll be easier if we take most of

It’s a beautiful evening here.   The half-moon is illuminating the water, revealing almost perfect reflections of the surrounding boats, and it is absolutely silent, except for the occasional huge splosh of an enormous fish jumping.   It is six weeks since we left the UK, and five weeks until our earliest planned departure date from New Zealand to Tonga.   This is, of course, weather dependent, so we won’t know more accurately until nearer the time.   Five weeks sounds like a long time, but with each day that passes, the air of urgency on board is becoming more palpable. On deck in Shark Bay When I last wrote, we were on our first little adventure and had made it safely to Shark Bay, Kawau Island, where the anchor held perfectly, the junior crew slept on deck and the weather was idyllic.  We had Angus’ friend Brett with us, who barely allowed himself to leave the galley during his entire stay, except to entertain the children, take amazing photos, or sneak away on yet another

I struggled to finish this blog last night when I sat down after dinner to write it.   Somehow, we just didn’t seem to have quite enough news to make it worth posting.   We had been living on the same boat, in the same spot in the same marina for over a week and had gone nowhere.   What on earth had we been doing for all this time?   I really couldn’t think.   We’d come to the other side of the world for an adventure, but were stuck in the usual cycle of normal life – cooking, clearing the table, washing up, putting things back where they belong, home-schooling, refereeing sibling squabbles, and then time for the next meal (again!).   It seemed hard to make any headway at all in terms of our boat preparation.   We have growing lists of jobs, checks, kit, supplies and spares that we need to work through, but our three little time-eating-offspring ensure that dawn slips seamlessly through to dusk, day after day, with every job taking three times as long as it should, and items appearin