Pink algae, green waves, baby sharks and yet another birthday

A happy little Jack

Current location: Fairway Bay Marina, Gulf Harbour, 36 37.2 S  174 47.6E

We are back in Fairway Bay, where we began this adventure in March last year.  This is the place where the children and I first set eyes on Victoria.  (Angus had already seen her some months earlier).  It was our home for several weeks while we were getting ready to set sail for Tonga, which feels like such a long time ago now.  We have all come a very long way since then, both literally and metaphorically.  Angus and I were amazed by our crew as we approached the dock when we arrived;  all three were on deck, bursting with energy and keen to help us.  Eloise stood at the bow, Jack amidships, and George at the stern, each confidently clutching their coiled ropes, ready to throw or pass to me once I was on the pontoon.  They jumped ashore as soon they could make the leap, and were extremely proficient in tying the lines around the cleats.  We could hardly believe what awesome crew they had become.  And then ten seconds later, they all set off down the dock at a run, disappearing to find their friends on board “Max”, and we recognised their enthusiasm for what it really was – relief to be alongside a pontoon for the first time in over a month, and joy to be back in a place where they have fond memories and firm friends.  We haven’t really seen much of them since then; they have been catching and trying to sell shrimps, whittling sticks into spears with their penknives, climbing a huge tree and playing on the rope swing beneath it, and only returning to base when they drop a knife or a net to the bottom of the marina, or notice that they are hungry. 

The children are so much more independent than when we were here back nine months ago.  Jack, now 4, is unrecognisable from the slightly clingy 3-year-old who started this trip with us.  He doesn’t like to be helped with anything, insists on doing his own suncream and lifejacket buckle, and can pretty much swim (although he makes little forward progress, as he is permanently “goggling down” as deep as his little legs can kick him).  In the past couple of weeks he has started to ask to go kayaking by himself, and takes enormous pride when the conditions make it possible for him to get to the beach and back unaided.  He’s extremely stubborn and pretty mad, regularly starting fights with George, but they are great friends and make up very quickly.    

George’s love of fishing goes from strength to strength, even though we are not very good at it by kiwi standards.  He recently undertook his first solo fishing trip in The Cove, an incredible anchorage on Arid Island, off the east coast of Great Barrier Island.  He put a lure on his rod, and set off in his kayak to some rocks, which he had identified as a likely spot for an unsuspecting fish.  Once he’d pulled “Yellow Banana” up out of the water, and tied her painter around a big rock, he got to work with his rod.  By the time I returned from a fairly brief kayak cave exploration, he had landed a gurnard all by himself – no mean feat without a net or a bucket!  On another occasion, he and two of his six-year-old friends paddled their kayaks to the beach for a spot of boys' fishing.  Half an hour later, George returned alone to Victoria – a tough paddle against an increasing headwind.  He tied up and climbed aboard.  “Hi guys,” he said, breathless with exertion and excitement, “I’ve just come back to get my snorkel and mask.  We’ve got the fishing lure stuck on some rocks so I need to dive down and get it.  It’s not very deep so I think I’ll be able to get it.”  We suggested a wetsuit might be a good idea too, and persuaded him that I should come ashore with him to supervise the sub-aqua operations.  He led me straight to the lure (which was no longer attached to the fishing rod as they had pulled so hard to try and free it) and together we managed to retrieve it.

Eloise recently read the whole Harry Potter series for the third time – she has a lot of reading time on the boat..  This coincided with a prolonged period of slightly chilly and extremely windy weather, and as a result, we rather lost her to her kindle.  At times she was so engrossed in the magical tales of Hogwarts that she had no interest in the rest of us.  Fortunately, she got to the end of the last book just as the wind started to calm down and the weather warmed up, and we got our old Eloise back again.  She is responsible enough now to lead dinghy trips with George and Jack.  She can start and drive the outboard engine, choose a good landing spot, and make sure the dinghy is either anchored or tied up.  We were lucky enough to find ourselves in Tryphena harbour, on the south of Great Barrier Island, at a time when there were hundreds of baby sharks there.  Some hugely excited teenagers near us were snorkelling off their boat and feeding snapper to a 2m “bronzie” (bronze whaler shark).  Despite their fearless recklessness, none of the teenagers were so much as nibbled, and as most of the sharks in the bay were considerably smaller, we figured we were quite safe as long as we left the sharks to their own devices.  I went for a paddleboard near the rocks, where the reef met the sand, kneeling down and peering into the water below, and was mesmerised by baby hammerheads swimming less than a metre beneath me.  We cajoled the kids out of a deliciously warm rockpool on the beach and sent them out in the dinghy to see for themselves, with Eloise in charge of the expedition.  She motored out into the deeper water, then they rowed and drifted back over the shallows, squinting into the water beneath them.  They met some other shark watchers doing the same thing, and returned in high spirits, reporting a sighting of a 3m school shark!!  So much for "baby" sharks – luckily nobody fell in…

Pink sea! - the algae bloom wafting past us in Owhiti Bay, Waiheke

If seeing so many sharks was not amazing enough, we were treated a few days later to what is known as an “algae bloom” in Owhiti Bay, on the north-east coast of Waiheke.  The sea had been murky with plankton that day, but otherwise gave no indication of what was to come that evening.  By late afternoon, the sea all around us was streaked pink.  When we looked towards the horizon, we could see swathes of coral coloured patches of water drifting our way.  The pinkness floated past the boat, coalescing, intensifying and piling up on the beach, and before long, the water at the shoreline was no longer blue at all.  As day turned to night, pink became green; the plankton and the algae created the most wonderful phosphorescence.  It wasn’t just a few sparkles and twinkles in the sea; it was like the water was alive with lime-coloured flashes.  Every wave that broke on the shore painted a fluorescent green swoosh along the beach, as though someone had spilled a huge vat of glow in the dark paint.  Where fish darted around us, we saw day-glo green bullets shooting through the water.  It was beautiful and incredible – nature at its most wonderful.  George collected a cup of plankton and algae by paddleboard, and we examined drops of it using his pocket microscope (thank you, Godfather Freddie).  It was absolutely fascinating – masses of single celled organisms (presumably the plankton?), with the algae looking a bit more complicated, and other tiny little creatures whizzing about as we watched.  We could have done with a book about cells, and funnily enough we had seen an ancient one, in german, at a book swap a few days previously, but had no idea we would ever be needing it on Victoria.

Art on the shore

We have had a big push on restarting home school since Rosie and Serena returned home to the UK, and the children must have made some secret new year’s resolutions for 2020, as they have been much more co-operative than last year.  With Jack, we are practising letters and numbers, simple counting, holding a pen/pencil, drawing shapes and patterns, recognising sounds (we play a lot of I Spy), and story-telling using pictures.  Eloise and George are brilliant at helping Jack with his learning.  George is amazing with mental maths, absorbing a lot from Eloise, but although he knows many of his times tables, he still has to check every time which way around to write a 3 and a 5.  He reads lots of stories to Jack, and is reluctantly accepting reminders to use small letters rather than shouting capitals all the time when he writes.  I’m not sure we are going to manage joined-up writing anytime soon, but I’m sure he can pick that up in Year 2.  Not thanks to any effort on our part, his reading is very good; he loves to study fact books, and for bedtime reading is currently working his way through The Midnight Children by David Walliams.  As mentioned previously, Eloise will soon be ready for mastermind, as long as she can have Harry Potter as her chosen specialised subject, but a lot of wider reading will be required to make any headway with the general knowledge questions..  She is working her way through science, maths and english workbooks aimed at year 5, with mixed enthusiasm and speed.  Her presentation is a bit slap-dash (she is definitely the opposite of a perfectionist!), but has improved since I told her that we will need to show the books to her teachers when she restarts school.  All in all, things are going well and everyone is progressing.  The children are all keen to return home and restart school in September so that is what we are aiming towards; we have just applied for Jack’s place in Year R. 

An alternative location for multiplication practice: Smokehouse Bay, Great Barrier Island

George returning from his "secret place" to show me his fractions book

That's Jack, doing his workbook on the bath house roof, having swung up there on the rope swing!

I just had my 41^st birthday and Angus organised a fantastic party for me.  The invitation, sent by last-minute email, was for a birthday drink on Victoria at 6ish.  After a “full english” birthday breakfast and some handmade birthday cards, we got stuck into a full day of marina jobs, and didn’t give my big day or the evening party much further thought.  Angus gave Victoria’s decks a much needed wash, did some chart returning and borrowing with our friend Warren, and went to the supermarket.  I fiddled around down below, sorting laundry, cleaning, tidying and vacuuming, meanwhile emptying our tanks of all the slightly salty water we had carefully collected from our decks on a rainy day in the Barrier.  (It turned out that we should have allowed time for a little more rain to wash the encrusted salt off our decks before we blocked the scuppers and opened the filler caps!)  The children wouldn’t drink the water from our tanks after that.  Jack spat it out in disgust and declared, “That is BILGE water.  I am NOT drinking it!”  Fortunately, we had several bottles already filled with drinkable water in the fridge, plus we have a gerry can for emergency use (which we didn't need to use).  Even our tea and coffee tasted a little bit salty though.  It’s great to have our tanks full now with deliciously fresh water.

Anyway, back to the birthday party.  As 6pm approached, Victoria was looking shipshape for once.  Our great friends from Max wheeled their BBQ round and set it up on the pontoon.  We had a few beers and sausages ready in the fridge, some corn on the cobs ready to go on the hob, and a couple of bowls of crisps on the cockpit table.  That was about it as far as preparation went.  Then people started arriving.  The cockpit filled up, and still people came.  Soon there was an overflow party on the aft deck, and a BBQ gathering (of men, of course) on the dock.  The kids returned from their latest fishing escapades and got a movie going in the aft saloon.  We hadn’t realised how many friends we had; friends from the marina, friends from the rally, friends from the RCC (Royal Cruising Club).  There were even friends who we hadn’t invited, who just happened to be in the area and heard we were having a party.  At our maximum, we had 27 people on board; 18 adults and 9 children.  The best thing about boat parties is that everyone comes laden with offerings – nibbles, salads, drinks, and even glasses, plates and cutlery – so it is always a feast, and usually fairly effortless.  The other incredible thing is that people take everything almost away with them again, so the clear up is very easy.  In normal life, having 27 people round for drinks and dinner, starting at 6pm, with the stragglers leaving at 1am, would seem like a huge headache.  In fact, I would think it was too many people for our house, which is absolutely massive compared to the boat.  But somehow it was all very easy, and made us realise once again how lucky we are to be part of this wonderful boating community.  A washing-up fairy even snuck below and did the dishes while we chatted in the cockpit (thank you, Anne). 

Hope it’s not too freezing cold at home.  Lots of love to everyone.  Fingers crossed that Boris and those in power can do what is needed for 31^st Jan.  Onwards and upwards..!

Love from all the salty seadogs on the Good Ship Victoria xxx

More rock climbing - one of our favourite extracurricular activities

PS.  I was a bit slow to post this.  We have actually left Gulf Harbour now and headed a few miles north to Sullivans Bay in the Mahurangi River, for the Mahurangi Classics Regatta.  There are at least 100 boats anchored in the bay already, with another arriving every few minutes.  We can almost step on to some of the boats around us - it's going to be fun if the wind gets up a bit!  We are eagerly awaiting the arrival of several of the rally "kid boat" friends – Calypso, Casteele and Moon River.  It’s a beautiful afternoon and we’re looking forward to another wonderful weekend on the water.